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eu-nicola · 2 months ago

Text

two months

summary: JJ and you broke up two months ago but there are still things between you to solve

warnings: violence, I guess

word counter: 2757

author's note: english is not my first language

Two months had passed since that night. Two months since you decided to break up with JJ. And even though it had been your words that had ended what you had, it still hurt as if he had been the one to break up with you.

That night was still as fresh in your memory as if it had happened yesterday. You had asked him as calmly as you could muster, but the tone of your voice betrayed what you truly felt.

"JJ, are you in love with Kie?"

He hadn't answered you right away. JJ had always been quick with words, always had a joke or an excuse ready, but at that moment, his silence was so loud it left you breathless. When he raised his gaze to meet yours, the guilty glint in his eyes was the confirmation you didn't want to receive.

"I don't want to hurt you." Was all he said.

That was enough for you. You had nodded at him with tears gathering in your eyes, turned around and walked out of his house without saying anything else. You knew that if you stayed one more second, you would break down in front of him, and you promised yourself that wouldn't happen.

Since then, things had never been the same. Being part of the same group of friends made getting away from him almost impossible. JJ was still JJ: charming, loud, the life and soul of every moment. But for you, he was a constant reminder of what you had lost.

And now, you were sitting on the dock, your feet dangling over the water, watching the reflection of the sun dance on the waves. Getting lost in that landscape was one of the few things that helped you distract yourself from your thoughts.

"What are you doing here all alone?"

JJ's voice interrupted your peace. You looked back and saw him approaching with that carefree smile that used to melt you. Now, he only managed to remind you of how much you had tried to forget.

"Thinking," you answered without much enthusiasm.

JJ sat down next to you, so close you could almost feel the heat from his skin. “Thinking, huh? I hope it’s not about sad things.”

You didn’t answer. You knew if you did, he’d start asking questions, and you didn’t want to give him that power over you.

“Are you going to the party tonight?” he asked after a moment of silence.

“Yeah,” you answered simply. It was easier than explaining why you’d convinced yourself you needed a distraction.

“Good.” JJ smiled, and there was something about his expression that made you uncomfortable. “It’ll be fun. You know it always is.”

You nodded, though you weren't sure it was true. Ever since everything had ended between you two, fun was the last thing you felt when you were around him.

That night, after your brief conversation with JJ at the dock, you decided you weren't going to let his presence define how you felt. Maybe it was pride or maybe the need to prove to yourself that you could move on, but when you got home you decided to look better than ever.

You put on a dress that always made you feel confident, tight in all the right places. You left your hair down, letting it fall in soft waves, and opted for simple makeup.

When you arrived at the party, the place was already packed. The music was loud, the house filled with laughter and the scent of alcohol and cigarettes. You greeted a few friends as you made your way to the kitchen to pour yourself a drink. Slowly, the atmosphere began to relax you.

After a while, a boy approached you while you were dancing with a group. You didn't know him very well, but you'd seen him at other parties. He had a kind smile and a charisma that made you feel comfortable almost instantly. After a couple of songs, he offered to get you a drink, but you declined with a laugh, saying that you were fine for now.

Soon, he extended his hand, inviting you to dance again. You hesitated for a moment, but decided to accept. You were here to have fun, weren't you?

As you danced with him, you began to feel more free. He moved confidently, keeping just enough space so that you didn't feel uncomfortable, but close enough that you knew he was interested. You laughed at something he said, letting the worries of the day melt away for a moment.

What you didn't know was that JJ was watching you from across the room.

At first, he had tried to ignore you. Sipping a beer and laughing at his jokes, but he couldn't stop his eyes from searching for you in the crowd. When he finally saw you dancing with that boy, something inside him tightened.

As much as he tried to convince himself that he had no right to feel that way, the truth was that he couldn't stand to see you with anyone else. When he saw you laughing and noticed the way the boy lightly touched your waist as you danced, something inside him snapped.

JJ stood up abruptly and crossed the room before he could think about it.

"What do you think you're doing?" he snapped at the boy, pushing him lightly in the chest.

The boy, confused, raised his hands in a sign of peace. "Excuse me? We were just dancing, dude."

JJ didn't let him finish. "I'm not your friend, and she's not someone you can play with."

The tone of his voice was threatening, enough that several around started to look. You noticed the commotion a second later and turned to find JJ facing the boy.

“JJ, stop it!” you screamed, trying to intervene, but by then it was too late.

The boy, tired of the taunts, pushed JJ back, and that was all it took to spark the fight. JJ threw a punch, connecting with the other’s jaw, and within seconds, the two of them were trading blows as the crowd tried to pull them apart.

“Stop it! JJ, stop it already!” you screamed desperately, but your voice was lost in the noise. Finally, a couple of friends managed to step in and pull them apart. JJ was breathing heavily, his hair messy and his lip split, but his eyes were still fixed on the other boy with fury.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you screamed at JJ, advancing on him. “Why do you have to ruin everything?”

JJ turned to you, still agitated. “Seriously, him? That guy? What are you doing?”

“It’s not your problem who I dance with,” you snapped, feeling the rage and frustration starting to consume you. “You have no right to intervene in my life!”

“I don’t care if I don’t have the right,” he replied, his voice lower but laden with emotion.

You shook your head, feeling tears burning in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall in front of him. “You know what, JJ, I’m done. Sick of you. I’m leaving.”

Before he could respond, you turned around and walked out of the house, ignoring the stares from everyone else. The cool night breeze hit your face, soothing the burning in your cheeks a little as you walked home.

But you didn’t notice JJ following you.

“Wait,” he called from behind, but you kept walking, trying to ignore him.

“Hey.”

Finally, you stopped, turning to him with your arms crossed. “What do you want now, JJ? Wasn’t ruining my night enough?”

He stopped in front of you, taking a deep breath. “I didn’t want to ruin anything. But I can’t… I can’t see you with someone else. Not when I still love you.”

His confession landed between you like a bomb. You looked at him, unsure of what to say, as he watched you with an expression that was a mix of despair and hope.

JJ’s words hung in the air, too heavy to ignore, but also too painful to accept that they still affected you.

“JJ, you can’t say things like that after everything that happened,” you said, your voice barely a whisper, as you crossed your arms over your chest as if that could protect you from what you felt.

“But it’s the truth,” he insisted, taking a step closer. “I know I have no right to say it. I know I messed everything up, but I can’t just keep quiet. I’ve been screwed these past two months, and I can’t keep this up.”

“And you think I don’t?” you snapped, your voice cracking. “You think it wasn’t hard for me? I was the one who had to end it because I couldn’t stand that you loved someone else! And now you show up, saying these things… It’s not fair, JJ.”

“I know,” he replied quickly, his tone filled with regret. “None of this is fair, but I swear… I swear I didn’t realize how I really felt until I lost you.”

You looked into his eyes, searching for something, anything, to tell you if he was being sincere or if he was just saying what he thought you wanted to hear. But all you saw was the naked truth: he was hurt, just as much as you were.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "Look, JJ, I can't just keep doing this here, in the middle of the street. Come home. At least let me treat those wounds before we argue any further."

"Are you sure?" he asked, hesitant.

"Yeah," you replied in a softer tone, though still laden with exhaustion. "I don't want you to end up with an infection because of me."

Without saying anything else, you began walking toward your house, knowing he would follow you. He did so, silently, with his hands in his pockets and his head down, as if he were gathering his strength for what was coming.

When you arrived, you opened the door and gestured for him to come in. JJ sat in the living room, nervous, while you went to the bathroom to get the first aid kit. When you returned, he looked at you with a mix of gratitude and something you couldn't quite place.

"Let me see," you said, pointing at his face. JJ complied, leaning forward as you sat across from him.

You took some cotton and soaked it in disinfectant. When you started to clean the cut on his lip, he hissed in pain, but didn't pull away.

“That’s what you get for getting into pointless fights,” you chided him softly, trying to maintain the emotional distance you so desperately needed.

“It wasn’t pointless,” he murmured, his eyes locked with yours. “I can’t just stand by while someone else tries to take my place.”

You shot him a serious look. “JJ, no one is taking your place. You left it empty. It wasn’t my choice for this to end like this.”

He looked down, his jaw clenched. “I know. And I’ll never stop regretting it.”

You finished cleaning the cut and began applying some ointment to his knuckles, which were red and swollen from the blows. The silence between you grew heavier and heavier, until JJ broke it.

“I miss you,” he said quietly, as if he was afraid the words would fall apart on the way they came out.

He had told you he missed you, but you didn’t answer him. What were you supposed to say? He had been the one who had broken your heart, the one who hadn't been able to reciprocate when you needed him the most. So why did his words now make you feel like all the armor you had built these past few months was suddenly crumbling?

When you finished bandaging his hand, you carefully let go, trying to keep the distance you had been struggling to build for weeks. But in that instant, JJ took advantage. Before you could move, you felt his hands around your waist. The strength of his grip wasn't rough, but he wasn't letting you escape either.

"JJ, don't do this," you whispered, trying to sound firm, but your voice came out cracked.

"Please," he said in a tone you had never heard from him before, one filled with desperation. His eyes were glassy, and you noticed a tear falling down his cheek. “I need you. I can’t go on like this. I’ve tried, but nothing works. I think about you all the time. I see you in every place, in every thing I do. I need you, more than I’ve ever needed anything.”

Your breathing quickened as you tried to stay calm, but emotions were starting to take over you. “JJ, you can’t tell me this now. It’s too late. You made your choices, and I had to learn to live with them.”

You tried to pull away, but he held you tighter. Before you could say anything else, he rested his head on your stomach, enveloping you in a hug that nearly knocked the air out of you. His breathing was heavy against you, like he was fighting back the tears that were now falling freely.

“Please,” he murmured, his voice muffled against you. “Tell me there’s still a chance. Tell me you don’t hate me, because I couldn’t stand it.”

Your hands shook at your sides as you tried to process what was happening. You didn't know what to say to him, or how to react. Everything in you wanted to give in, you wanted to comfort him, but you also knew that opening that door again could mean another, more painful fall.

"JJ, I don't know what to say to you," you finally whispered, your voice shaking.

He lifted his head to look at you, his eyes filled with pain, still keeping his hands on your waist and, before you could protest, he made you sit on his legs. His grip was firm, as if he was afraid you might disappear if he let you go.

"Listen to me," he said seriously, his eyes locked on yours. "It's not too late for us. It can't be. I screwed up, I know, and I'm not going to justify it, but I'm here now. I think about you every day and every night. I'm here because I can't imagine my life without you."

You gulped, feeling tears begin to build up in your own eyes. “JJ, even if you wanted to fix this, how would that ever work? You left me thinking I was never enough for you.”

He shook his head quickly, his expression filled with guilt. “Don’t say that. You’re everything I ever wanted. I was just too stupid to realize it before.”

You shook your head, trying to pull away from him, but JJ held you tighter again. This time, his hands moved to your cheeks, forcing you to look at him.

“Please,” he murmured once more, his voice cracking. “Give me one chance. Let me prove to you that I can be better, that I can do this right. Just one. Just one.”

Before you could respond, before the words could even form in your mind, JJ closed the distance between you and kissed you. It was a desperate kiss, full of need and regret. For a moment, your thoughts shut off, and all you felt was him, his warmth, his sincerity.

But then, you pulled away slightly, breathing heavily. “JJ, this doesn’t solve anything,” you said, though your voice lacked the firmness you’d planned.

He nodded, his hands still on your cheeks. “I know,” he replied, his eyes searching yours. “But I’m not giving up. Not until you know I’m sincere, that I love you more than I thought I was capable of loving anyone.”

You fell silent, your heart fighting your mind. Part of you wanted to believe him, but the other knew that trusting him again would be the biggest leap you’d ever taken.

#fanfic #oneshot #imagine #x reader #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fic #obx x reader #obx #jj obx

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warping-realities · 5 months ago

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Beautiful Things

Hey, everyone! This story is part of the Viral Transformation funfarre proposed by the one and only @occamstfs, in celebration of hitting 2K followers! Congrats, bro, you totally deserve it. He’s one of our top authors and never fails to bring the best stories.

Before I dive in, I gotta give you a heads-up that this is a story about corruption, where good people turn into the worst kind of folks. If that’s a sensitive topic for you, I’d recommend not moving forward. Trust me, in the original project, things were way worse, but after chatting with the MAN himself, who helped me with some edits, I softened the tone of the story a bit. If you’re interested in the original version, I can post it later, but this is the final cut.

That said, I hope you all enjoy it and join me in celebrating this awesome author!"

Alois was strolling mindlessly in the morning towards the student exchange center in Seattle, where a bunch of fresh-off-the-boat students from all over the world were gathering for the adaptation phase of their exchange semester. The eighteen-year-old Austrian was loving the experience of taking a gap year before diving back into his studies in Vienna, where he planned to become a doctor. As he walked down the busy street, on what should be the only sunny day of the year, he spotted one of those types he had seen around the city. They were all buff and tall, with wavy, well-groomed hair, and the big ol' mustache that defined them, giving off the vibe of some douchebag brotherhood or whatever. This one in particular was jamming out to music on headphones that looked straight outta the nineties, just like his outfit, which consisted of Levi’s jeans, a white tee, a dark jacket, and combat boots. The whole look cranked the douche factor up to eleven, making Alois's heart race a bit as a shiver of attraction ran through him. When the guy passed by Alois, he shot a look at the smaller red-headed man, dripped with arrogance while a smirk played at the corners of his lips, like he knew some secret that Alois was clueless about. To make things worse, the music blaring from his headphones was so loud that Alois couldn’t help but catch a snippet.

“Please, staaaayyyy…”

That stupid song again. At first, Alois thought it was kinda interesting, despite all the religious preaching in it, which rubbed the young atheist the wrong way. What he didn’t realize was that the singer was all about filming a lot of TikTok videos to promote his work, videos that inevitably flooded the social media feeds of a gay dude with an unfounded attraction to that type of guy. A type that seemed to be multiplying on the streets of Seattle every damn day. Sure, Benson Boone was from Monroe, just a few miles away, but still… Maybe he was looking at things from the wrong angle, maybe it was the singer who was cashing in on the style of the group he and his fellow exchange students had dubbed the Mustache Gang.

The fact is, after several months, the hype around the song should’ve died but apparently that was still far from happening. Trying to leave the discomfort aside Alois headed to the coffee shop that had quickly become his favorite spot during his short stay in the city. As he walked along, head down like most introverts do, he got lost in thought about what kind of work the exchange agency would hook him up with, until his daydreaming was interrupted when those familiar chords hit his ears again.

“I want you, I need you, oh God…”

But this time, someone had slapped a cheerful electronic beat onto the song, which not only butchered it but also made it even more annoying. Looking for the source of that cacophony, he lifted his head and glanced to the side. He could’ve sworn he saw a chubby dude coming his way, but now there was no sign of him, just another one of those big-mustached douchebags strutting around with the swag all of them seemed to have, along with the usual cocky grin. Dressed in a white tank that showed off his defined arms and hairy chest. There was no one else close to Alois on the street at that moment, which was a blessing, since his dick was starting to stir at that sight. But that also freaked him out. Where the hell did that damn music come from? Was he seriously imagining things now?

Distracted and worried about his sanity, he stepped into the coffee shop. At that moment, the place was almost empty; there was just an old dude, well past his prime, fiddling with his phone, looking like he was in a bad mood while he seemed to be listening to something that deeply disgusted him through the giant headphones he was wearing. Apparently, the use of those things was a trend around there.

Passing by the old guy, Alois headed to the counter and ordered his usual coffee with cream and sugar. As he made his way back to the exit, still freaking out about his mental state, disaster struck. Clumsy as ever, he tripped and faceplanted on the floor, coffee spilling everywhere and staining a good chunk of his clothes.

“Alois, du bist dumm…”

He said stunned in embarrassment, as he turned to the side, starting to get up. His view landed on black combat boots that ended in large calves covered in denim, leading up to thighs as thick as they come. But the old man was wearing a suit, no? Clearly not, since the Levi’s pants had been replaced by a black hoodie that concealed a massive chest, which the sleeves were stretched to the limit by powerful biceps. The grand torso gave way to a handsome face framed by wavy brown hair, and right in the center, the ever-present slick mustache that even the guy’s prescription glasses couldn’t diminish the douchebag effect. With his eyes closed and a focused expression, he didn’t even seem to notice what just happened right next to him.

But Alois couldn’t help but wonder, where the hell did that old guy go? While trying to figure out when the old dude left the shop and the Mustache Gang member took his spot at the table, the man seemed to wake up. Smiling and fixing his hair, he finally noticed that a kid was trying to get up from a puddle of coffee right next to him.

“Need a hand, little bro?” he asked, though not with a genuinely empathetic expression; on the contrary, the grin he shot at Alois did little to hide how much he found the situation hilarious.

“No, I’m good, thanks!” Alois replied, finishing getting up and bolting out of the shop as the guy burst into loud laughter behind him. Apparently, this dude wasn’t just rocking the look of a douchebag. Rushing to wipe the coffee off his hoodie, Alois continued his march to his destination. Luckily, no other mortifying events unfolded along the way. Upon entering the classroom, he passed by Charles, a French dude with long blonde hair and delicate features, who was checking something on his iPad while also rocking a pair of those old-school headphones. Not wanting to disturb his classmate, he didn’t say hi and headed further back in the room, where bis friends Arjun and Qian, hailing from India and Taiwan respectively, were hanging out. As he passed Charles, he heard that stylized version of Benson Boone’s song again.

“I found my mind, I'm feelin' sane

It's been a while, but I'm finding my faith…”

Apparently, he wasn’t going crazy after all. He quickly turned towards the source of the music only to find one of those big-mustached douchebags and no music font at all. But he could’ve sworn that… wasn’t there another person there? A kid with long, well-kept blonde hair? Well, his hair was definitely blonde and well-kept, just like the his mustache. Wearing a tank top that showed off his arms and staring at everyone in the room with an air of immense superiority that made Alois feel torn between attraction and disgust.

Resuming his path back to his friends, he discreetly adjusted his boner in his sweatpants while sitting down and trying to forget about that damn song.

“So, who’s the jerk sitting at the front of the class like he owns the place?”

“We’ve been wondering that too, man,” Arjun, the skinny Indian boy with long limbs replied.

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” continued Qian, who was more compact, as their teacher, Mr. Sizemore, spoke to the class.

“Guys, today I brought the manager of one of the establishments where you might work. Chuck works at a pub called Shooters; it’s an opportunity we typically offer to our students over twenty one. However, the place has expanded and now also has a Hookah Lounge, the Puff Palace. Although I must say the best option would be for no one here to inhale anything, this is still a decent job opportunity. Without further ado, here’s Mr. Chuck Morris.”

The guy smiled arrogantly before stretching and scratching his neck, causing the lightweight, almost see-through fabric of his tank top to expose his nipples, which didn’t seem to bother him at all. He took his sweet time getting up, like he was in some kind of private show.

But in Alois’s opinion, it would’ve been better if he had stayed seated and shut up, because the first words that came out of his mouth to the class raised a wave of utter dissatisfaction.

“Hey there, guys! Happy to finally leave your miserable countries behind and be in the greatest nation in the world?” The conversation didn’t get any better after that, and Alois was sure that whatever happened, he’d never set foot in that bar called Shooters.

After class, he was chatting animatedly with Arjun as they headed back to their dorm.

“I’d love to know what that illiterate would do if he knew he was talking to future doctors, engineers, journalists… while he’s gonna spend the rest of his life working in a bar serving people like him,” Alois commented.

“Probably nothing would change. People like him always think they’re superior just because of how they look and because they were born here in the States. Doesn’t matter if they live in a trailer and rely on government assistance.”

“True, ahhh, I want a coffee; I spilled mine all over this morning. Do you want one too?” Alois asked as they passed by his favorite coffee shop again.

“No, I’m good. I’ll go ahead; we’ll catch up later,” Arjun replied, continuing on while Alois entered the coffee shop. After carefully getting his to-go coffee to avoid a repeat of that morning’s fiasco, he turned and headed to the exit when he heard the synthetic chords again, accompanied by that familiar lyric.

��Don't take these beautiful things that I've got…”

This time, he saw where the sound was coming from—a Latino guy a bit older than him was listening through those giant headphones. Feeling sure he wasn’t losing it, Alois allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief, only to get a major scare. In the blink of an eye, where the guy had been, now sat one of those big-mustached dudes, this one bigger and more muscular than the others, but with the same wavy hair and infamous mustache.

Alois was stunned, staring at the man, who in turn pointed a finger at him as if to assert something and gave him a smile that freaked the young guy out to his core.

Not knowing how to handle that situation, Alois bolted from the shop, trying to make sense of what he had seen. Still in shock, he entered the room he shared with Qian in the dorm, where his friend was sitting on his bed, fiddling with his phone, still dressed in the button-up shirt and khakis he wore to class.

“Dude, you won’t believe what just happened. You’re gonna think I’m crazy, but… I... I forgot... How bizarre, I'm sure it was important Qian! Qian? Is everything okay? Qian…? You good?” he asked, realizing his friend hadn’t heard a word he said, just to see his face contort and his eyes roll back as if he were convulsing, and then… puff. Right in front of him stood another member of the Mustache Gang, wavy hair, slick mustache, a chiseled face and a muscular body on display.

“You good??? Qian? Who the hell is Qian? I’m Ken, you foreigner dumbass.” Said the young man of Chinese descent, the irony of using that kind of comment not even crossing his arrogant and brutish mind. “You’re here only because I couldn’t score with an American ass. But a hole’s a hole…”

“I… what…?”

“You just accept a quick hookup on Grindr man, It's not that difficult. Gonna act all shy now? Here in America, that kind of behavior doesn’t fly. Either you do what you came to do or bounce, but then you'll miss out on all this,” the guy replied, flexing his powerful muscles while giving him an arrogant grin. Alois was thinking about where exactly he was and what he was doing there.

“So ginger, what's it gonna be?”

.....

When he got to the dorm for international students after getting his ass wrecked by the massive schlong of his Grindr hookup, who he discovered was co-manager of Shooters and Puff Palace alongside Chuck —those two even shared an apartment above the pub—he hated himself for getting into that mess just for a quick lay. Yet, at the same time, it was the best fuck he’d ever had. As he stripped down and got ready to shower and wash off the sweat and sex smell from his body, the distinct ping of a Grindr message caught his attention. Opening the app, he found a new message from Ken Lee.

“Hey ginger I think you’re gonna like this.” Ignoring all common sense, thinking it might be a nude, he clicked the link the other guy sent along with the message. Strangely enough, it was a clip from a podcast where a young woman interviewed a flamboyant man, who was wearing a bright and flashy suit, both chatting animatedly. Everything about them screamed obnoxious starting with their shrill voices that didn’t stop talking for a second. Losing interest and wondering why a guy like Ken would send that to him, Alois let the video play as he headed to the bathroom in the room he occupied alone in the dorm.

“… so, Benson Boone? He’s such a total hottie, girl!”

“Don’t even get me started, Yasmin! I melt for a guy like that! I’d do him in a heartbeat.”

“Me too, Nico! But with that whole Christian boy vibe, I’m not sure he’s got the moves.”

“Girl, it’s just marketing. A guy like that, with that body? And anyone rocking a mustache like that knows exactly what to do with a girl… or a man.”

“Nico you slut, I heard some rumors…”

“I know, girl! I wouldn’t doubt he’s hooked up with more than a few, after all, a man has his needs, and to a guy like him a hole’s a hole like my brother used to say”

“Oh, my brother always said the same thing. What’s going on that there aren’t any more men like him in America?”

“I’ll tell you, I don’t get it either. Everywhere I look, I only see snowflakes and wimps. They say they are our allies, but this talk about toxic masculinity has turned all of them into whiners. Of course I prefer not to be attacked in the street by a bunch of homophobes, but sometimes all we want is someone to fuck us senseless And no one does it like a good douchebag, and don't come to me with that talk that this is a white, cis man's thing, yada yada yada... all due respect to the cause, but we need more men like this hottie, not less. Real American men, who know what they want and make it happen, I don't care what they do with their lives as long as they fuck me right. So I vote for more douchebags, of all races, creeds and sexual orientations, sis!

“True, Nico! I wish I could make that happen…”

“Me too, girl, but how about we listen to his updated song while we wait for the real American men to come back?”

“Sure, girl, this version is way better and more danceable, perfect for a man to sweep me off my feet. Play it!”

Then, the chords that had been haunting Alois all day started playing, and he quickly turned on his way to the bathroom to stop the video—there’s no way he’d want to listen to that on his own.

“Mm. Please stay. I want you, I need you, oh God…”

As he turned towards the source of the sound, he froze, hearing it as a feeling of numbness invaded his head and took over his body, barely letting him take a step back before being flooded with memories and sensations that weren’t his. His childhood in Austria was being replaced by one in Virginia, time spent studying swapped for sports practice, the memory of a skinny physique giving way to a powerful, muscular body, atheism giving way to worship at church every Sunday, even if he spent most of the time distracted, checking out the girls present. And speaking of girls, nights of sex, just banging them in the ass to keep his virginity intact, and when a girl refused, there was always a twink willing to step in. After all hole’s a hole. Then there was the end of school five years ago and the move to Seattle, working as a personal trainer during the day and a bartender at Shooters at night, the apartment shared with Chuck and Ken, and all the possible and imaginable orgies they had . He knew that, as a good Christian, he’d eventually have to give it all up, settle down, and start a family, but until then, the single life was too good to pass up, and he was gonna enjoy it. And even after he gets married if the desire arises, well a man has his needs and one thing he has learned is that no one is a better bottom than a slut boy desperate for a fuck.

“No… no… what the hell…. This can’t be real…” Alois grumbled as he tried to move towards the phone that he now knew had to be the source of this whole bizarre situation. However, with every step he took, his muscles expanded. His skinny chest exploded into slabs of meat that are now pecs, below his abs form into six brick-like blocks, and his arms and legs thicken to a considerable size. His hair grew longer in well-kept waves, and that infamous mustache sprouted and grew on a more masculine and angular face. At the same time, the room he was in transformed, and he found himself on the other side of the city, in the place he had just left a little over 40 minutes ago.

When he got to the phone, Allen adjusted it, fixing the camera angle. That video was gonna be perfect for his TikTok, especially with that new version of Benson Boone’s song, one he’d used in a bunch of other videos, but this remix version was fire.

Fixing his hair and flexing his powerful muscles, he smiled at the camera.

“Yo, what’s up, fam? Today’s heavy lifting day and a wild night at Shooters. If anyone’s interested in what I’m packing here, just swing by or hit up the link to my OnlyFans in the bio. Only for the grown folks, are you really gonna miss out on this?” he wrapped up, crossing his arms in front of his body and flashing one of those grins at the camera.

“Damn, that looks so good!” he said, posting the video on TikTok and heading towards the living room of the apartment he shared with Chuck and Ken, not even bothering to shower. He had a new client coming to the gym in the next hour, so why waste time on more than one shower? “Tonight’s gonna be lit for sure, guys,” he said, talking to his roommates.

“Are you talking about the Indian skinny boy who’s training with you?”

“Ugh, definitely not. Dudes like him are for when there are no other options. But it wouldn’t be a Friday night if Big Al didn’t get some real action.!” He said grabbing his cock and balls over his shorts, laughing. "I can't wait to get some ass." He concludes while shaking his huge cock out of his shorts and making everyone burst out laughing.

“We’re all gonna get some, man. Chuck’s been spreading the word in an exchange class; soon, it’ll be packed with foreign slutty chicks and twinks looking for an American dick, and we can bang them all we want, Red.” Said Ken with a mischievous grin.

"And God bless that! "Chuck added beside him with an identical smile, which was also mirrored on Allen's face.

...

Allen was sitting on a bench in front of the gym, waiting for his new student, a scrawny Indian dude from the exchange program named Arjun.

“You coming, bro?”

“Sorry, I’m on my way. Got held up.”

“So, meet me in the gym locker room so we don’t waste time. In the meantime, check this out,” Allen said, sending the link to Yas and Nico podcast, she was a hot babe even if she seems as dumb as a rock. Not that he cared much about that at all; she was hot, and that was good enough for him, and that Nico had a very fuckable butt. He didn’t even stop to think about why he was sending that video; it just felt like something he should do.

.....

While he was chilling on a bench in the gym locker room, mindlessly scrolling on his phone, he didn’t notice the transformation happening to his student right behind him. The skinny Arjun was rapidly inflating with muscles and attitude without Allen even realizing it. It was only when he looked up and saw a dude of Indian descent with silky hair and the infamous mustache, wearing nothing but gym shorts, casually scratching his powerful pecs.

“Art, you still haven’t finished getting dressed, you asshole? We gotta workout, take some pics of our pump for OnlyFans and hit the bar shift afterwards.”

“Chill, Al, I’m getting ready. It’s not like your muscles are gonna disappear because of a five minute delay in your workout.”

“Five minutes is already too much,” he replied, flexing his arms and smiling arrogantly. “Tonight, I want the max pump in these Beautiful Things I’ve got.”

#occam2000 #male tf #mind change #reality change #jockification #mental transformation #corruption #musclegrowth #gay to bi #douchebag tf #my story

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glasswinggames · 1 year ago

Text

Visual Novel In Progress

Discord || Ko-fi || X

Dear Reader,

Congratulations! You have been selected for a chance at a new life in another world!

Archelia is a place of magic, mystery and more! This city may have many Twisted Secrets, but it's a place where dreams can be made reality... though of course, all things come with a price.

So, complete your missions, trigger the Catalysts to change the world, and maybe, in the midst of it all, find your Ever After...

You, our beloved Reader, have been brought over from Earth by a mysterious being who only seems to communicate with you through a blue screen that only you can see. You've been chosen as the representative of the God's who wish for change to the story of a world that has long since gone stagnant.

If you succeed in unlocking your power and creating change with the help of the Catalysts, beings at the centre of change identified by the God's, you can have anything you wish for...

But only if you give a satisfying ending.

As the screen disappears, you're left to your own choices, to shape your new life in this fantasy world, where magic and mystery exists around every corner, and to become whoever you want to be. Will you stay as a reader, letting the story pass you by? Will you be a supporting character, helping the hero or villain as you choose? Will you become a protagonist, bringing change by your own hands?

... Or will you become something more?

Features

Ever After: Twisted Secrers is an 18+ Visual Novel set in a historical fantasy inspired world following eight different stories exploring a variety of themes.

🦋 Customisable MC 🦋

The MC of Ever After: Twisted Secrets is completely customisable. There is a customisation screen to choose name, pronouns, gender, sexuality, and physical appearance, including disabilities and much more. You can set preferences for physical touch, and personality is defined through optional flavour choices.

🦋 Different Relationship Dynamics 🦋

When you meet each interest, you will get to choose how you feel about them, whether it's dislike, disinterest, friendliness, or attraction, and there will be options to deepen these feelings throughout the stories. This gives more opportunities to give depth to your MCs personality: dislike a character but want to be nice to their face or even manipulating them to love you? There are options for that.

At the start of each route you will be asked whether you want to play the platonic or romantic route, this will determine your potential relationship statuses in the endings. For platonic you can become best friends or even be in a queerplatonic relationship.

In Jedreks route, there is the option to be in a poly relationship with Jedrek and the side character Oliver. You can choose the dynamic, whether it's a V or a triangular relationship. It is not possible to be in a relationship solely with Oliver.

🦋 Choice Driven Stories 🦋

There are three types of choices:

Flavour Choices: Don't impact the endings but dictate your characters personality and influence how people react to you. These choices are optional, if you turn these off then it will follow [redacted]'s selections throughout.

Relationship Choices: Impacts the endings for whether the interest likes/loves or dislikes you.

Catalyst Choices: Impacts the endings for whether you were successful in triggering enough change within the world.

There are four different endings per interest, not including bad ends throughout the prologue and routes and additional epilogues, which are unlocked once you meet the requirements.

🦋 Extras 🦋

CGs - There are 16 CGs in the prologue alone! Each route will have several CGs which you can collect and view in the gallery.

Compendium - Throughout the routes as you discover more key terms and information will be stored in a Compendium which you can access at any time to learn more about the world and its history!

Original Music - For the prologue, there will be an original song written for idol group Boo-K, with plans for the full game to have even more music for you to listen to!

Achievements - There are several achievements you can get throughout each route! Maybe something will happen if you unlock them all...

As you can choose to play platonically and define your own relationships, I refer to the different route options as Story Interests!

Meet the Catalysts of change below!

'I'll have my own following with blackjack and hookers--'

Pronouns: They/them

Sexuality: Demisexual

Age: 30

Height: 6'2"

Cairen is known as being the irresponsible, frivolous rake of the Palace, the fallen second star of Archelia, the charming elven heartbreaker of the city. When they aren't gallivanting around the city and avoiding their royal duties, they can be found tending to their butterflies in their private greenhouse... also avoiding their royal duties.

Perhaps it's a good thing that their uncle still holds into the throne? That the position of heir has gone to their war hungry cousin?

However, as you will see with Cairen, things aren't always as they seem in the floating Palace, and the one who has long since been underestimated has poisonous plans of their own to take back what has been stolen from them, with interest.

Despite Cai's playful, frivolous demeanour, they are smart, cunning, and very ambitious. They know their worth and believe the crown may not be enough to showcase it anymore: they need to ascend even higher and create a new world where they stand above all else.

Will you join them at the peak? Or will they push you off along the way?

'What's a historical fantasy without a cold Northern Duke?'

Pronouns: He/him

Sexuality: Bisexual

Age: 28

Height: 6'

As the ArchDuke, Helios is the leader of the most powerful family outside of royalty, though even they have little control over him since he became the Shayan, the head of the magic tower and the most powerful mage in the Kingdom.

Helios has used his magic and intellect to contribute to the Kingdom, advancing technology through magic stones that are widespread in transport and improving medical care to reduce dependency on the church.

However, his sharp tongue, impossibly high standards and stubbornness haven't earned him many friends, even if his criticisms come from a place of care. Though this doesn't seem to bother him, as he still has what is truly important: his family, his reputation and his magic.

But, when Helios stands to lose everything, and the world he helped turns against him, will he be able to stay true to himself, or will he be driven to revenge?

'Do you want to get magically stuck together? Cause that's how you get magically stuck together!!'

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Bisexual

Age: 35

Height: 5'6"

The Witch of the Forest of Yulis is a mysterious woman. Though she visits the city often with her beautiful seeing eye dog Orion leading the way, she maintains enough of a distance that not too many know much about her.

Nature, animals, and the souls of the dead wander by her side now, but there was once a time when the forest was a haven for others in the city. But as technology has taken over, and more of nature has been destroyed to expand the city walls, the forest and its resident witch have been affected by some strange unknown force and nobody has been able to get close.

Farren is a kind woman, with a tendency to do her best to help others, especially those who can't help themselves. She is gentle, but firm in her boundaries, and a woman with a strength underneath her softness.

However, in the face of death, how long will her gentleness last, and will she take matters into her own hands to save the nature she loves the most?

'[J.Jonah Jameson voice] GET ME PICTURES OF THE BOOGEYMAN!'

Pronouns: He/him

Sexuality: Bisexual

Age: [Redacted]

Height: 6'3"

At some point or another, everyone has either heard or told stories of the Boogeyman. Parents who tell their children to behave lest they be whisked away, friends who hunt for him as a test of courage, and rumours that spiral whenever somebody goes missing. But everyone knows this is just a myth, a legend of a monster that doesn't exist.

Or does he?

Despite his notoriety, nobody knows the face of the Boogeyman, or the fact that he is back.

He feeds on fear, finding joy in their panic, and with his laughter filling the streets as he claims another, it may just be that the title of monster fits him better than you realise.

You've taken a job as a reporter, alongside your new friend Oliver, to hunt him down for the latest scoop, and when you get close enough to snap a photo you find that the playful monster of a killer enjoys the limelight.

Will you be able to keep him entertained long enough to find out what he's doing with the bodies? Or will you end up just another victim on his path?

'Spencer Reid if he was the unsub... and an idol'

Pronouns: He/him

Sexuality: Bisexual

Age: 24

Height: 5'10"

A previous otherworldly traveller like yourself brought the concept of idols to Archelia, giving it a classical twist to fit in with the worlds tastes.

Illium is part of the five member group, Boo-K, an incredibly popular boy group inspired by flowers, with Illium the red flower member alongside his brother, the yellow flower, Zephyr.

He's known as the Prince of the group, the untouchable idol who keeps everyone at arms length with his universal kindness and gentle smile. Fans have pictured him rescuing animals, especially fallen birds, with a soft smile that matches his gentle voice.

But behind his pretty words and soft demeanour, he is still searching for a reason why he exists and something to be truly passionate about. As you spend more time together, he believes you may have the answer to his prayers.

However, you start to notice a trend to a string of attacks and murders... they are all people who have wronged you no matter how small the altercation. Surely the sweet, with his princely charm, Illium could have nothing to do with it... right?

'Your flirting mind tricks don't work on me, only money!'

Pronouns: Dependent on presentation, he/they when masc and she/they when femme.

Sexuality: Bisexual

Age: 48

Height: 6'2" (Masc)/5'9" (Femme)

A large building towers in the city's shopping district: the Bedisa Lounge, home to a large casino, and the Bedisa Family led by the one and only Eos.

On the surface they are a legitimate business and entrepreneur, who supports all the businesses in the city, providing protection, preventing crime and making profits for all. Underneath though, the Bedisa Family is a large criminal organisation who manage the black market, the flow of information from the Underworld, and work under the eyes of the law to steal and con nobility to line their own pockets.

It's so easy when the short tempered, cocky leader can shapeshift and become anyone, even those you think you know well.

Unfortunately for yourself, you make an enemy of Eos when you walk on their turf, and if you want to win this war between the two of you, and even change your status from enemies to lovers, you're going to have to bring all you have.

Though, when they start dabbling in darker businesses, will you stand by them on top of your shared riches... or will you be swept up in their shadows.

'You like heroes? You like himbos? Excellent /breaks him'

First Locked Route

Pronouns: He/him

Sexuality: Bisexual

Age: 25

Height: 7'

The first person you see in this chaotic world and the one who will support you above all else, Noah is the true hero, and not only to yourself. He is known for being a walking ray of sunshine, helping others and protecting all from danger, not even realising when he gets hurt himself.

It's the 'everyday heroics' he likes to say, believing that no matter how small the action is, you can do something to save someone.

A member of the church, he is your rock in the midst of political arguments and infighting between factions. Noah wants to make your dreams come true above anything else.

But underneath that happy go lucky demeanour are anxieties he cannot squash on his own, and a darkness that threatens to swallow his and your light.

What lengths will Noah go to be a hero? Will you be able to save him before he ends up losing himself?

(´｡• ᵕ •｡`)

Second Locked Route

Pronouns: She/they

Sexuality: Bisexual

Age: [Redacted]

Height: 5'7"

Ranked to determine strength, S class mercenaries are few and far between. Fortunately for Archelia however, one resides within their lands. Though unlike others who seek fame and coin, the Mercenary Queen only accepts payment in the form of books and stories.

The quiet Athanasia can always be found with her head in a book, losing herself in the pages regardless of it's contents.

But a life lost in the world's of others is often a lonely one, and they have become no more than an observer, a reader of reality, rather than a main character.

However, as you join this mercenary as she experiences her very own horror, fantasy, romance and more, revealing secrets of the world that have long since been forgotten, what role will she play in this story?

And who is she to you?

#ever after: twisted secrets #vn #visual novel #amare #dating sim #indie dev #otome #glasswinggames #introduction post #intro post #introduction #introductory post

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smuttysabina · 2 years ago

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Motherhood, with Jihyo

(Male Reader x Jihyo, 1900 words) Pregnancy, pregnant sex, milk, creampies, Mommy fetish, motherhood.

Jihyo has always been a "Mommy". Her voluptuous curves, her stern yet nurturing nature, her kindly face, her charismatic domination, her enormous breasts; all of these factors helped to define Jihyo's maternal inclinations. But after getting impregnated by Once, these inclinations have blossomed into something that transcends common motherhood. Jihyo is no longer simply a Mommy, she is The Mommy of Idols, the undisputed matriarch of breeding and love. Along with a boost to her charisma, pregnancy has bestowed upon her physical gifts as well. Her already capacious breasts have swollen even larger to accommodate the milk being produced within them. Her toned body has been sheathed in a fresh layer of flesh to fuel the new life within her, rounding out her curves in a most attractive manner. And of course, her toned belly has swollen outwards, bulging from beneath her breasts as it nurtures the child within her. Taken all together, Jihyo now resembles an ancient fertility goddess, benevolent and beautiful, filled with desire and love...

Like all idols, Jihyo has a depthless sex drive, a gaping abyss of desire fueled by the constant acclimation she receives. Unlike many of her ilk though, Jihyo effectively channels her lust into her ambitions and beliefs, making her a superb leader in dance and song as well as in ah, breeding. Like all idols, Jihyo's natural instincts and fetishes have been blown all out of proportion by her condition; resulting in a perverse affection towards impregnation. Due to the more, benign direction of her sensuality, it is rarely noticeable aside from an implacable insistence on creampies. Jihyo is not a whore-goddess like Jennie, indifferent atop a mountain of drained fans as she mechanically fucks them into unconsciousness. This restraint has kept her fellow members of Twice in check as well, if their leader is not visibly outrageous in slaking her lusts on stage, how can they be? Not that Twice is not riven with degenerate fetishes, merely that they keep them more subdued far better than other groups.

So it is a crisis then, that as Jihyo's belly swells ever larger, so does her sexual appetites. Her pregnancy has driven her nearly mad with lust, and it is all Twice can do to keep their beloved leader from doing something... drastic. And no, getting bred on live tv by nearly a thousand fans is nothing to get excited about; its positively banal compared to Rose pegging a government official during her speech before the public. Thus, Twice feed an ever growing river of fans into Jihyo's room, desperately throwing bodies at the problem in the hope that she will be satisfied until birth. All the while though, they worry about their own condition, soon all of them will follow suit and get knocked up by Once. And when that happens, Twice will become insatiable... but perhaps Jihyo will discover a solution to the coming cataclysm. The girls can only hope that their leader will save them once more; but until then, Jihyo continues to fuck with all the virility of a young mother.

An atmosphere of panic fills the Twice suites, staff hurrying everywhere, the girls directing the chaos with barely restrained hysteria; Jihyo has awaken from her slumber and requires... entertainment. All around you a febrile stir of lust passes through the fans gathered for today's session, all of you keen to experience Jihyo's motherly love. Through the grace of God (Jihyo), you have managed to secure a place at the front of the line, and are more than a little excited to make love to her unsullied sex. Jihyo's bedroom door suddenly slams open and Chaeyoung staggers out, her cheeks ballooning as she hurries over to a potted plant were she noisily voids her stomach. Nayeon and Momo rush over to comfort her, and from what you can hear Chae was forced to gorge upon her leader's pussy, drowning in her squirt and turgid cum until her stomach was filled to bursting. Momo courageously flings herself through the door to buy her compatriots time to organize the fans into proper order for upcoming gangbang. Nayeon dashes to you, dragging you towards the bedroom with unseemly haste, her eyes wide with terror as she gabbles unclear instructions. Then you are practically flung through the doorway, and finally encounter her.

Jihyo is radiant, everything you could possibly dream of. Her breasts hang heavy over her swollen belly, her thick nipples dark and erect, her thighs curve seductively to support a staggeringly large ass. Every inch of her is sheened with sweat and oil, accentuating her beautiful skin and giving her a softly radiant glow. A dark, tangled path of hair shrouds her pussy, already soaked through with heady juices. Even the scent of her is enough to send your reproductive system into overdrive, your hind-brain blaring at you that the woman before you is fertile. Jihyo wears a sweet, welcoming smile with ease, wordlessly inviting you to spend your virile seed inside of her again and again until you are drained... As you move to embrace Jihyo, your eyes flicker to the side of the bed, where Momo sprawls; ass in the air, a truly gargantuan dildo juddering in her pussy. As she hugs you tightly, Jihyo discretely tosses her blanket over her fellow Twice member; there's no need to worry about Momo, just focus on Mommy...

Your tongue wrestles with Jihyo's as she slowly maneuvers you towards the bed, caressing her inflated belly and groping her hefty breasts. With a sudden bump, she collapses backwards onto the bed, already opening her legs wide in anticipation of your rigid manhood. Faced with such an alluring proposition, you don't bother with any more foreplay, and simply plunge yourself into her. Jihyo's pussy is soaking wet. Her slick, sticky juices tenaciously cling to your cock, providing you with euphoric lubrication as you fuck her. Any idol can get wet, but Jihyo is positively dripping all over your cock, smearing your balls with her creamy fluids, thrilling your cock with exotic sensations. Motherhood truly becomes of her, so it is only natural that you moan her true vocation to her as you fuck her. Jihyo herself gasps with pleasure as her pussy devours your cock, reveling in pleasure as your hands grasp her swollen belly for leverage. The sloshing noises reach a crescendo as you increase your pace before orgasm, before subsiding to slow loud meaty slaps as you climax. Both you and Jihyo groan as your thick seed spews into her, coating her pussy in another layer of murky cream.

It seems a profane disservice to pull out of Jihyo, but at her urging you allow your cock to feel the cold kiss of the bedroom's air once more. But your dick is not kept cool for long; rolling onto her side to support her weighty belly, Jihyo motions you towards her flush lips. You happily comply, letting Mommy slurp your conjoined juices off of your shaft with startling enthusiasm, lowering yourself until you are parallel on the bed beside her. Gradually, you find yourself on your back, while Jihyo works your cock until it is once more stiff at attention. With a dreamy look, she scoots forward until her breasts engulf your entire dick, smothering them in warm, soft flesh. Squishing them together, Jihyo kneads her boobs as she uses them to stroke you, until tiny pearls of liquid weep from her nipples. You sigh with pleasure as Jihyo uses her milk to lubricate your tittyfuck, your tip now bright red when it peeks out from between her tits. Spotting this, she promptly latches her mouth around your cockhead, her cheeks hollowing even as she relentlessly uses her breasts to massage your length. Your second load fountains directly into Jihyo's mouth, filling it with such quantities of seed that she is forced to swallow twice.

But Jihyo is not done with you yet, pulling herself atop you she kisses her way up to your face. She grinds her soggy crotch against your own, eager to receive your long hard love once more. Her heavy breaths moisten your neck, as she urges you to get it up once more for her, to get it hard again for Mommy. Combined with the aphrodisiacal fluids marinating your cock, Jihyo's entreaties allow your manhood to make one last heroic stand; defying your mortal limitations for the goddess atop you. Who in appreciation of your efforts, will do the draining without taxing your already exhausted body. Leaning back, Jihyo moves your cock along her sodden sex, your tip hidden within her bush and she massages it with her folds. Then, to your surprise, she moves it even further back, and promptly sits on your cock, burying it within her ass. You nearly cum from sheer excitement, Jihyo's anus is far tighter than her pussy, rapaciously forcing you deep inside of her with every thrust. She bounces atop you, the child within her adding extra heft to her ride, slamming against you remorselessly. Such is the force of Jihyo's fucking that her pussy lips open themselves, revealing to you the pulsing pink hole you so recently were plowing. Jihyo uses one hand to balance herself, while the other plays with her hair, before descending to massage her leaking breasts. With an animalistic grunt, Jihyo cums around your cock, her coils clenching tight around you as she leaks all over your chest. Now her ride is punctuated by wet slapping sounds that reverberate around the room, an announcement to all of your lovemaking abilities. It is all too much for you; your balls mightily exert themselves one final time, depleting your last reserves of sperm to impregnate Jihyo's infertile guts. Who only stops her steady bounces when your flaccid cock flops out of her vice-like asshole, she pouts down at you, surely you have more for Mommy...?

Jihyo lowers herself down onto you, wide ass in the air, resuming her motherly blowjob as she encourages you to rise to the occasion once more. But your cock is utterly spent, shriveling within her mouth even as her suction grows ever more stringent. You are rescued from a horrible fate by the sudden arrival of another fan, who plunges within Jihyo's exposed pussy without warning. She groans at the unexpected pleasure, forgetting about you for a moment as she enjoys the raw heat building within her belly. Strong hands yank you off of the bed, Momo's strained face fills your vision as she pulls you to safety. She drags you through a back door, into a room filled with cots and stocked with enough supplies to satisfy an army. Dahyun glances up from a couch where she was busy cleaning her nails, an eyebrow cocked in elegant bemusement. Which quickly turns to dismay as Momo collapses beside you, messily extruding the massive vibrator still within her pussy with a gush of fluids. Dahyun gingerly tends to her fallen group member, ignoring you entirely until her friend has been taken care of. Only then does she drag you onto a bed, before giving you a speculative glance. You know, Dahyun does have some aphrodisiac laying around if you want to... Oh never mind, you're about to pass out anyways...

#kpop smut #twice jihyo #Twice smut #jihyo smut

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jessmaybank · 2 years ago

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Cardigan - Part one; hand under my sweatshirt

Based on the song Cardigan by Taylor Swift

Series Masterlist

Navigation

Paring(s): Rafe Cameron x Fem! Reader.

Word count: 5.2k

Summary: in which coming back from college and seeing him again, ruins everything.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drugs & violence, cheating, SMUT (a little), mentions & implications of public sexual acts, nipple play.

AN: lots of mutual pining, angst, jealousy and everything in between. Ex’s to lovers again. Flashbacks are in italics!

When you are young, they assume you know nothing

But I knew you

The day she had been dreading had finally come. Ever since she left for college, ever since she abandoned the life that was once all she knew, she wondered how it would feel coming back to outer banks. Coming back to the place where it all started.

She left for college about a year ago, eager to escape the harrowing memories of her past, and the people she lost along the way. That’s what she told her family anyway, that she needed a fresh start. That she needed to get away from all the familiar faces who chewed up her kindness and spat it straight back out, again and again, without a second thought. but in reality, the only person she was running away from was her ex boyfriend Rafe.

Her mind had been permanently plagued with memory’s of him since she left, tainted by the deep-seated pain of her first love, and as much as she would love to avoid him forever, summer in obx was something she didn't want to miss, and she missed her family. So, inevitably, she sucked it up and got a flight home.

She wished the memory of him would dissipate into the evening breeze as she sat in her mothers car, watching the horizon pass her by just as quickly as it came as they drove home from the airport. The radio played quietly in the background as she gazed into the golden skyline through the window, and the closer she got to figure eight, the more the memories started flooding back, like a whirlwind reminder of what could have been.

“3, 2, 1, go!” Topper shouts from his seat on the camping chair next to her, the light crackling of the fire filling her ears as the flames devoured the wood that they had gathered.

The beach was littered with drunk teenagers, and numerous crowds of tents to house everyone for the weekend, as part of the annual camping trip which graced the Outer Banks beach every year, to mark the start of summer. This tradition also just happened to be her favourite.

Topper opens his beer as quickly as possible, wasting no time in tipping the liquid down his throat, gulping it down swiftly. Everyone else followed suit in chugging down the beverage, and her eyes screwed shut as she got about half way, the questionable taste making her regret the decision to partake in these games.

As always, Kelce finishes his drink first, scrunching his can in his hands and chucking it into the fire, the smile on his face an indication that he’s clearly impressed with himself. She envied his drinking skills as she gave up, retracting her lips from the can when only about a quarter was left, her face scrunching up as she swallows the last of the liquid in her mouth.

“Has beer always tasted this bad?” She says, not sure if she’s asking herself or her friends around her.

“If your a pussy Y/N, just say that” a male voice taunts, and she didn’t have to turn her head to know who it was.

Rafe made his way towards the group, a backwards baseball cap sitting on his head rather lazily, as the sound of his footsteps trudging in the sand got louder and louder.

She was thankful she was wearing sunglasses as she took in his shirtless state, her jaw threatening to drop as she gawks at her boyfriends washboard abs, the defined muscles practically staring back at her.

He halted his movements as he stood right next to topper, just in time to watch her stick her middle finger up at him, a fake glare hidden behind her sunglasses. The corners of his lips turned upwards into a devious smirk, the sun painting his face in a golden hue, and she had to poke her tongue into the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling at him.

“I thought you couldn’t come until later?” She says, reaching to get another beer from the cooler, the condensation from the can running down her fingers, before she extends her arm to pass it to him.

“I’m good at sweet talking” he says smugly, sending her a subtle wink that only she noticed, before taking the beer out of her hand, their fingers touching briefly. She rolled her eyes, even though he couldn’t see it, but it wouldn’t of mattered anyway. All he was concentrating on was the small grin that graced her features, her sweetness practically radiating off her. Rafe couldn’t believe someone as sweet as her would want to be with someone like him.

He thanked her for the beer with a quick peck on the lips, ignoring the gagging noises from Topper at their affections. She had been with Rafe for a while now, and although they had got used to the teasing from their friends, she wondered how much longer they would keep up the act for.

“Debatable. I bet you just didn’t wanna help set up the tents, so you lied about being busy” Topper says, used to his best friends lazy tactics.

“You think so low of me, Top” he says, a cheesy grin on his face as he adjusts his hat, before opening his can. He takes a swig, relishing in the cool liquid which contrasted heavily to the beaming sun which reflected down on them.

“Right, I’m going for a swim before the beach gets too crowded” she says, standing up from her chair and finishing the rest of her beer. She took off her rings that previously decorated her fingers before lifting her shirt over her head, blissfully unaware of the stunned expression on her friend’s faces as they admired her body.

Rafe, on the other hand, was all too aware. His clenched jaw was hard to miss as he slapped Toppers chest, sending both him and Kelce a glare.

“Wait for me” Rafe shouts as he watches her begin to walk down to the shore, almost loosing his balance as he observes her hips swaying from side to side. God, he could get used to that.

“Wait for me” Topper and kelce say at the same time, the mocking tone in their voices evident as they both laugh. And if they weren’t making fun of him, Rafe would of been impressed at how unionised they were. Rafe held his middle finger up, trying his best to maintain a serious look when Topper raised his arms up in surrender, a small smirk painted on his face.

The water was cool when she got in, her muscles relaxing almost immediately. She sighed as she fully submerged herself into the water, swimming deeper into the sea, but her relaxed aura disintegrated when she felt something wrap around her foot. She screamed as she turned around, her fearful expression contorting into a glare as she realised it was just Rafe, clearly trying to fuck with her.

“you make it too easy for me, baby” he laughs, pulling her body towards him, in awe of the freckles which danced along her cheeks, and all the way along her nose. But as her chest was pressed flush against his, she realised just how exhausted he looked, the bags under his eyes making her cringe a little.

“Are you okay?” She asks, concern laced in her voice as she runs a thumb along his slightly sunburnt cheek, just below his eyes.

She knew his dad had been putting him under a lot of pressure recently, and it pained her to see him like this, all tired and deflated. Even though he did his best to hide it from her, she could always tell.

He nodded, melting into her touch as he tilts his head, relishing in the gentle feel of her skin. His eyes shut for just a second as he snakes his arms around her waist, and it was moments like this she realised just how different he acted around her, compared to everyone else. And as much as she wished he wouldn’t put on a front all the time, she was grateful he let her see the real Rafe.

“Nothing I can’t handle baby. I just needed to see you” he says, and she couldn’t help but smile at her boyfriends sweet words, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

“I can’t believe Topper and Kelce are going to be cock blocking me all weekend” he says, and she rolled her eyes at his vulgar statement, his sweetness evidently short lived.

“Like that’s ever stopped us before” she says, a tight-lipped smile on her face as she tries to hide her smirk.

Rafe had a shit-eating grin on his face as he recalled their past public escapades, reminiscing about the numerous times they indulged in public, even when their friends were too close for comfort. He just couldn’t help it sometimes, and neither could she.

She giggled as he grabbed her thighs, giving them a gentle squeeze before wrapping her legs around his waist. The gentle waves crashing around them drowned out her gasp as she felt his cock press against her clothed pussy, already starting to harden underneath her.

“Well, in that case…” he trails off, his smile never wavering as he takes a quick look around, making sure no one was too close before he tightens his grip on her waist, dipping his head to claim her lips in a harsh kiss.

And as she tangled her fingers into his hair, making him hum into her mouth almost immediately, she knew she wouldn’t be able to resist him.

“Have you thought about the summer camping trip yet sweetie? Seemed like you really enjoyed it last year” Her mother asks, ripping her gaze away from the road ahead, and it was moments like this where she had to question if her mother could read her mind.

She turned her head to meet her mothers gaze, scanning her features as if to look for signs that she was in fact a mind reader. She noticed that she had a certain look in her eyes that she couldn’t quite place, but whatever it was, was tinged with concern.

“Im not sure, i'll think about it” she says, fidgeting with one of the threads on her jumper sleeve, one of the many tells of her anxiety.

“Okay. Oh- I forgot to say, I know you didn’t want to do anything big for your birthday, but I just couldn’t help myself…” her mother starts, and the side eye she gave her was unmissable.

“Oh god. What have you done?” She says, eyes wide with fear. She never really cared for her birthday, and therefore never made a big deal out of it. She hoped this year wasn’t an exception.

“I’ve invited some families around for a small party, nothing crazy. The Thorntons, the Cameron’s, the-“

“The Cameron’s?” She says, her voice raised as she draws in a sharp breath, head snapping to face her mother so fast, she could of got whiplash.

Her eyes were wide as she attempted to register what her mother just said, her muscles tensing with fear as she felt her heart practically sink to her feet. She was going to have to see him again. And as soon as her mother took one look at her daughters face, she knew she had fucked up.

She wanted to blame her mother, but she couldn't really. To her mothers knowledge, there was no hostility towards her and Rafe, and their breakup was mutual. In other words, she has never told her mother the real reason they broke up, or the fact that they don't talk anymore. At the start, it was just too painful, and telling her meant it was actually real. Now, it was like bringing up old news, and she didn't want to revisit the ghosts of her past.

She spent the rest of the journey pleading with her mother to un-invite them, but she wouldn’t budge, claiming it would be too rude to tell them they couldn’t come now, and the damage had already been done. Although she had always had soft spots for Sarah and Wheezie, she knew seeing Rafe again would break her into pieces.

But that didn’t matter now, she thought to herself, eyes trained on the raindrops which had started to trickle down the car window, the moody clouds a reflection of her own dismay. Using her mothers words, the damage had been done, and it was now time to face the music.

I knew you

Hand under my sweatshirt

Baby, kiss it better

She tapped her finger erratically on her leg as she sat on her desk chair in her bedroom, trying drastically to calm her nerves. This was officially the worst birthday ever, and she knew the worst was yet to come.

She finished the last of the wine she stole from her parents cupboards, the alcohol warming her insides as she inhales a deep breath, exhaling slowly, before checking her appearance in the mirror once again, ruffling her hair to give it more volume. She had already changed her outfit multiple times, wanting to make sure she looked good. But no matter how many times she checked her makeup, or fiddled with her hair, nothing felt sufficient.

She practically jumped out of her skin as the sound of the doorbell engulfed the house, her breath hitching in her throat. She sprayed her perfume on herself as her mother called her name, and gave herself a small but reassuring mental pep talk, before making her way down the stairs.

Her shoulders dropped with relief as she saw it was just the Thorntons, and she extended her arms out to embrace Topper as soon as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Happy birthday! How is my favourite mai tai drinker?” Topper says as he hugs her, reminding her of the time she threw up after a long night of Mai tai’s and joints at his house; something that seemingly, she has never been able to live down.

“God, don’t remind me” she says, cringing at the memory.

“But that’s what friends are for?” He says, more of a question than a statement. His features held a playful expression, and she realised then she had missed her friends more than she thought.

She greeted Toppers parents, the familiar faces calming her anxiety a little as they all made their way to the garden, the music from the speakers getting louder and louder.

“This looks amazing mum, thank you” she said, a bright smile on her face as she hugs her mother, admiring all the decorations. Although this is definitely not what she wanted to be doing on her birthday, she could tell her mother put in a lot of effort, and she didn’t want to be ungrateful.

“Of course. Happy birthday darling” she says, before retreating in the kitchen to sort out a few things.

Once her mother was out of the sight, she pulled on Toppers arm, dragging him further down the garden, away from his parents “Top, I’m freaking the fuck out”

"what? why?" Topper says, his eyebrows furrowed.

"because, my moms invited-" her blood runs cold as she hears the doorbell again, and just by the look in her eyes, Topper instantly knew what was going on. “Rafe?” He asks. She nodded her head.

Luckily, it was just some old school friends, and she allowed her body to relax once again. She wondered how many mini-heart attacks it would take for Rafe to actually show up.

Her question was left unanswered as an hour past, and the Camerons still hadn't shown up. She didn't know whether she felt relieved or disappointed, but based on the heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach, she definitely felt uneasy.

Despite this, she was actually having a good time. Kelce and the rest of her school friends turned up, and lets just say her mums wine stash was growing lesser by the minute.

"okay everyone, inside for the cake!" her mother yells, and everyone followed her inside promptly, taking a seat on the large dining table. She was just about to offer to help her mum cut the cake, when the doorbell went again. Her eyes shut in defeat, knowing there was only one family that was yet to turn up.

"ah! your just in time for the cake! come in, come in" she could hear her mother mumble from the hallway, and her heart dropped.

Low and behold, the Camerons waltzed into the dining room, and suddenly, she was stone cold sober. Ward was absent, which wasn't exactly unusual. He had missed so many of Rafe's important milestones growing up, so it wasn't a surprise he wasn't interested in hers.

Her eyes grew soft as they met Rafes gaze. He looked pretty much the same, although his hair had grown, and the way his dirty blonde locks fell in front of his face was doing something to her that she couldn't quite explain.

She hadn’t seen him for so long, that the memories she had of him where that of a timid ghost; one that always lingered but never pounced, and never allowed her to fully heal. But as she was standing in front of him now, in the flesh, everything felt so much more real. And it was clear his ghost had come back to haunt her, as vicious as ever.

But as he got closer, and she got a good look at his face, her insides started to twist in the worst way possible. The skin of his cheek was bruised purple, his eye was basically black, and the numerous cuts and scrapes that danced along his skin were accompanied by a cut lip. She bit the inside of her cheek to hold back a gasp, and she was sure everyone else was doing the same.

Rafe's heart skipped a beat as he saw her, his rationality crumbling before his eyes as he glanced at the girl who was once his everything. It was like their whole relationship flashed before his eyes in that very moment, and it was hard for him to breath. He tore his eyes away from her as the overwhelming emotions became too much, finding solace in staring at his feet instead. She wondered then if this was as hard for him as it was for her.

Wheezie was first to approach her, giving her a big hug as she wished her happy birthday, before Sarah and Rose did the same. And then, it was Rafe’s turn.

“Hey” she says, her lips turning upwards into a small smile. God, he had missed her smile.

“Hi. You look nice” he said in a soft voice, hands hidden from her as he fiddled with something in his pockets, a hesitant look in his eyes. It may of been a while, but she still knew the boy inside and out, and just by the deflated look in his blue orbs, she could tell he wasn’t doing well.

“Thanks” she said, giving him a tight lipped smile in response. There was so much she wanted to say. But with so many people around, she couldn’t.

The next twenty minutes were extremely awkward. Rafe didn't say a word to anyone, and you could practically cut through the tension with a knife. Her eyes were glossy as she blew out her candles, and it took everything in her to fake a smile and hold herself together. She had a good poker face, but Rafe could see right through her as he sat across the table, a pit of dread in his stomach as he observed the sadness that lay behind her eyes. He poked and prodded at his untouched piece of cake as he matched her dull expression, before Sarah decided to break the silence.

"so Y/N, hows college? are the people nice?"

"um, yeah" she says, swirling her fork around her plate. She really wasn't in the mood to elaborate.

"she's made lots of friends, haven't you sweetie? she even has a new-"

"mom" she says, more as a warning, looking up from her plate now.

"what? as i was saying, she as a new boyfriend" her mother says, as oblivious as ever, pausing to take a sip from her wine glass.

her eyes shut in defeat for a second, but she didnt miss the way Rafe's eyes snapped up, his jaw clenching at the revelation. she's moved on.

it was true, she had a new boyfriend. The relationship was new, but he was sweet. She would be lying if she said he made her feel the things Rafe did, though.

"oh, thats wonderful! whats he like?" Toppers mum says, blissfully unaware of the chaos she was provoking.

"um-" she was cut off with a clang before she could even start her sentence, everyones eyes darting to Rafe as the sound of him dropping his fork on his plate fills the room, his fists balled on the table.

"excuse me" Rafe says, not waiting for a response before he jumps up, storming out of the room without so much as a glance. She mumbles a quick "fuck" under her breath, her guilty conscience getting the best of her when she too sprang up, following him out of the room without giving it too much thought.

She walked down the hallway and into the kitchen, her movements coming to a halt when she spotted him outside, staring at him through the glass doors that led to the garden. She grabbed a random sweatshirt from one of the kitchen stools, and took a deep breath before heading outside.

He didn't look at her as she walked out, but he knew she was there. instead, he gazed at the pool in front of him. "new boyfriend, huh?" he says, shoving his hands in his pockets, his jaw still clenched.

"Yeah well, atleast he can actually look me in the eyes" she says, folding her arms over her chest. He took that as a dig, and turned to look at her then, his adams apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. It was painfully obvious he was still in love with her, hell, he probably always would be. But who could blame him? It was the kind of love you only saw in the movies, the same kind of love Rafe never believed in, until he met her.

"what happened to your face?" she says weakly, just above a whisper, as if it pained her to say it.

he opened his mouth and then closed it again, like a gulping fish, debating whether to tell her the truth or not. His mouth opened once again, ready to speak before his eyes trailed down to her sweatshirt. And just like that, he froze.

“You kept it” he says, and her eyes followed his, peering down at her sweatshirt before she too froze. Holy shit, she forgot it was his.

She walked with Sarah out into the garden at the Cameron house, taking a sip of her vodka orange as she walked past Rafe to the sun beds. He was watering the plants, no doubt a chore his dad asked him to do before he left the house this morning. But given his shirtless state, she definitely wasn’t complaining.

They had just started seeing each other, but they hadn’t told anyone yet, not wanting to deal with the agro from their friends. But again, she wasn’t complaining. As it turns out, sneaking around was a lot of fun.

“Have you no shame? Uncle Reggie doesn’t even drink this early” Rafe taunts, referring to his alcoholic relative Reggie, who had a reputation for always ruining family events.

“Debatable. I once saw him use tequila instead of milk in his cereal” Sarah says.

“Bite me, Cameron” she claps back at Rafe, smiling sweetly at him before perching on the sun bed.

I’d love to, he thought, but he bit his tongue at the presence of his sister. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her summer dress, the flimsy material just daring to be pulled down her body as he glanced at the flirtatious look that danced in her eyes.

“That’s a dangerous thing to say to a man with a hose” he threatens, his signature smirk gracing his cherry red lips. She wasn’t sure she could get used to his smile even if she tried.

“You wouldn’t dare” she says, confident in her words as she laid back in the chair with her eyes closed, letting the sun drench her skin.

“Wouldn’t i?”

her eyes shot open as she felt cold water being sprayed all over her body, a loud scream leaving her lips.

“Holy shit!” She screams, springing up from the chair to run away from him, a breathy laugh leaving her lips. He stopped eventually, once he had his fun, but the amused look on his face turned into a stunned expression, his mouth agape as he noticed the way her dress had become somewhat transparent.

“Perv!” Sarah says to her brother, eyeing the way he was shamelessly staring at her wet figure. She mentally cursed him then for his lack of control, he didn’t even try to hide it.

She went inside to change, grabbing the first thing she saw in the laundry room, which happened to be a pair of sweatpants and a blue sweatshirt. It wasn’t the most flattering outfit in the world, but it would do. When she opened the door to make her way back into the garden, she found Rafe on the other side of it.

“Scale of 1 to 10?” He says, a cheeky look on his face.

Whenever they would bicker or annoy each other, they would always ask the other to rate their rage in a scale of 1 to 10, as a way of gaging whether the disagreement was serious or not.

“A strong 9. I’m plotting my revenge as we speak” she says, a smile painting her face that made all of his defences crumble. He let out a genuine chuckle at her remark

“Your wearing my sweatshirt” he observes, a cheesy grin on his face as he raises his eyebrows.

At this point, their secret relationship was lacking a label, and she wasn’t sure if they were at the clothes-wearing stage yet. “Oh, sorry. I’ll take it off” she says, her voice weak. She went to lift the material over her head when he stopped her.

“No, no, keep it. You look good in it” he says, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling her closer.

“Plus…I want you wearing it when I do this” he says, guiding her backwards into the laundry room and shutting the door with his foot. She giggled as he began peppering sweet kisses on her neck, and her hands immediately clung to his hair, relishing in the feel of his soft lips. He just couldn’t help but smirk into her skin as her breathing got heavier and heavier, and it dawned on him then that, label or not, he was hers. “Your smooth Cameron, I’ll give you that”

“Of course I kept it” she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. And to her, it was.

His features softened at her words, and he came to the realisation then that maybe, just maybe, all hope wasn’t lost. He tried to stop himself from stepping towards her, but he just couldn’t. And as soon as the smell of her perfume invaded his senses, he knew he was a goner.

“Does your boyfriend touch you like I did?” He asks, his voice low as he dips his head to hers, eyes focused on her glossy lips. One wrong move, and his lips would be on hers.

She couldn’t deny the way her insides melted as her eyes widened slightly, a certain intensity laying behind his eyes that made all of the blood rush to her head. The lust within his blown out pupils only added fuel to the fire as he brought his hands up to her thighs, tracing his fingers upwards along her skin, before his hands reached under the hem of her sweatshirt.

Her breath hitched in her throat as his hands dipped under the material, roaming around her bare hips, pulling her closer to him, if that was even possible. One hand then settled on the small of her back, whilst the other creeped up to her clothed breast. He swiped his thumb over her hardened nipple, and as she let out a small whimper, he had to bite his lip to suppress a smirk.

“I-“ her words turned into mush as he pushed the top of her dress aside, making her jerk against him as he pinches her nipple. The cold metal of his rings cooled down her burning skin as he touched her breast, and she felt like her knees were going to give way at any moment.

“I bet he doesn’t” he whispers in her ear, taunting her even further, even though based on her reaction, he already knew her answer. She could feel his smirk when he placed a kiss on her head, his familiar after shave making her question why they even broke up in the first place. She knew then that she was screwed.

The sound of the garden door opening snapped her out of her blissful trance, and she pulled away from him, ignoring every urge in her body that wanted to pull him close again. The loss of her warmth almost made him frown as the distance between them increased, and when he saw topper standing at the top of the garden, he never wanted to punch his best friend more.

“Uh, your mum wanted me to check if everything is alright” Topper says awkwardly, scratching the back of his head as he tried to ignore what he just walked in on.

“Yeah, um, we should probably head back in” she says, refusing to meet Rafe’s eyes as she turns on her feet, making her way back inside.

“Top, give us a minute” Rafe says, and she halts her movements, turning back around to face him. Topper nodded his head swiftly before treating back indoors.

“I just- I got you this. Happy birthday” he says, walking over to her, before pulling out a small box in his pocket. It was wrapped in blue wrapping paper, finished off with a small white ribbon, and she couldn’t help the wide smile that escaped her lips. He got her a present.

“Oh. Thank you” she said, taking the box out of his hand. Their fingers brushed briefly, and she couldn’t ignore the butterflies she felt in her stomach.

“We should…” she starts, gesturing her hand towards the house.

“Oh. Yeah” he says, his voice somewhat shaky. It was strange how he could go from dominant to a nervous reck in the space of a few seconds. He hated what she turned him into. She was the only one that could break his defences by the click of a finger, and it was terrifying.

He wanted to grab her hand, or yell for her to stay, but he didn’t. Instead, he waltzed back up the garden steps behind her, before entering the dining room again with one question on his mind.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how much did you miss me?

#obx #outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #drew starkey #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x y/n #rafe x female!mc #rafe smut #rafe obx #rafe x reader

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menlikeair · 8 months ago

Text

WASH MY LOVE. [eddie vedder x fem!reader]

mdni. smut kinda fwb, fingering, oral f receiving, unprotected sex, marking, rough-ish sex, slight voyeurism.

words: 2k

the barricade swayingly pressed against your ribcage in waves, each time pushing a huff of breath from your lungs as the crowd swayed and moshed with each song.

the long-haired frontman swinging from the rafters of a club they’d long since outgrown as artists didn’t help the excitement of the youthful mob shoving you forward.

finally, after encore, the lights dimmed and the antsy crowd seemed to slowly disperse. a handful made their way around the side of the stage, flashing their working or backstage passes to the burly cross-armed men guarding the dimly lit entrance. you obliged to the ritual and flashed your own to make your way down the graffitied hallway.

behind you, a voice rang out and you slowly turned on your heels,

“so…” a woman grinned mischievously. her heavily ringed fingers brought a cigarette to her stained lips, remnants of clinique black honey. she blew the thin stream of smoke up towards the ceiling before meeting your gaze again.

“you and vedder, what’s the situation?..”

you grinned and shook your head. news traveled fast in certain social circles. the woman pushed strands of her jet-black pixie cut from her eyes as she searched your face for any further answers.

“we’re just friends… that’s all.”

she hummed in a dissatisfied tone, a slight expression of disbelief flashed across her face, “and you’re a bad liar.” she nudged your shoulder as you walked together down the hallway closer to the room at the end of the hall buzzing with chatter and music.

the room looked like a barber's worst nightmare, nothing but wild long hair and drab flannel as far as the eye could see. your eyes grazed over the group of chattering bandmates, roadmen, friends, and groupies until they landed on the man to the side with his damp shirt thrown over his shoulder. you watched his large hands, one clutching to a dark green beer bottle, as he laughed and retold stories to a group who hung onto every word.

you floated around the room and said your hellos, took tokes that were offered until a familiarly strong hand landed on your shoulder. he teasingly squeezed, pulling your gaze directly to his defined face.

the aura from the man was almost overwhelming. with his pupils blown with adrenaline, you almost didn’t recognize him. you noticed as his surprisingly broad chest quickly rose and fell. you imagined the mound of muscle behind his ribcage quickly thumbing against its strong wall.

in the scene, you’d learned why musicians quickly fell into cycles of drinking and drug abuse, it was nearly impossible for the artists to just go home with a cup of tea and rest on the couch. the epinephrine coursing through them as the aftermath of a packed show was visceral.

eddie leaned to sit his beer down before his hand grasped yours and pulled you through the chattering crowd. he stepped into the hall and closed the door behind the two of you. his grin slowly spread across his face,

“haven’t seen that mug around here in a while,” he leaned closer to press a sloppy kiss against your tense cheek, teasingly rubbing the sweaty dampness from his tanned skin against you. you lightly squealed as you pushed him away playfully.

“well, i don’t like seeing this mug swinging twenty feet above my head,“ you grinned, letting your smooth hand trail down his arm, grasping his and pulling your shirt up,

“see? too wild for me anyway.” the rail of the barricade pushing against your upper rips had already made its mark. light stripes of purple and red marked your skin as you glanced up at his reaction, his skillful fingers brushing over the marks.

“hm, let me see.” eddie crouched lower, placing his hands on each side of your waist as if to examine the marks as you held your shirt up to show the evidence.

“oh, baby, look at you...” he hummed deeply, almost mischievously as he flashed a familiar smirk, his pupils still blown with post-show adrenaline as he glanced upwards to meet your gaze. the man brushed a wild curl behind his ear before pulling your shirt over his head, his breath warm against the skin of your torso.

eddie’s teeth grazed the growing bruise, forcing you to suck sharply through your teeth before his hands slid to your back, teasingly tugging at the hooks of your bra strap, “but too wild for you is a stretch.” he murmured deviously.

“eddie!” you clutched his shoulder tightly, feeling his methodical fingers unclipping the material, “eddie, stop that!” you whisperingly muttered, squeezing his exposed shoulder tighter.

“shh,” he shushed beneath the fabric of your shirt as his hand trailed back to your torso, his fingers feathering over your hardening nipple.

“what if someone sees,” you swallowed down nervously, feeling your knees weaken as his perfectly straight teeth grazed your nipple teasingly,

“nobody’s gonna see,” he muttered deeply, taking his head out of your shirt to stand, keeping his hands beneath the material as he wrapped them around you to tightly press you against his chest, leaning his head to press faint kisses along the side of your neck,

“you haven't missed this?” he muttered, barely more than a raspy whisper, “haven’t missed me?”

your heart fluttered, the answer hidden on your tongue, where it had been hidden for weeks, but you couldn’t muster the words.

you could only think of the first time you’d met the man, the first time you’d seen him on stage. his face flushed a deep red, he could barely look out into the stagnant crowd as he sang; a stark difference to the man in front of you now.

but he wasn’t going to prod more, he wanted to feel your answer. he pulled his lips from your neck and turned to guide you to the corner, hidden behind large stacked cases full of equipment.

“this okay?” his gaze flashed to you as you nodded quickly, his head dipping down as he lifted your shirt once again, his tongue sliding across your hard nipple. his lips trailed down further, and his palms pressured your chest, forcing you to sit on the equipment case with your back against the wall. his palm slid between your legs, parting them with ease before his fingers hooked and ripped the dark pantyhose beneath your short skirt.

“look at this,” his words made the bundle of nerves between your legs ache with impatience. eddie pulled back to gaze up at you from between your legs, his fingertips slid between the wet folds between your legs. your face flushed as he teasingly tsked at the sight of you, short skirt, no underwear, the answer was right in front of him, words weren’t necessary.

his mouth fell agape in mock surprise, his eyes not daring to leave yours as the pad of his thumb rubbed small circles against your clitoris, “what happened, forget them at home, baby?” he grinned, a deep crimson crept across your high cheekbones.

“i... i just..thought we —” you whined sweetly, your hand instinctively going down to entangle your fingers with his brown curls,

“mm..” he hummed knowingly, interrupting your useless whispered explanation. his hands roughly grasped each thigh to part them as he lapped an agonizingly slow stripe against your soaking womanhood, his eyes focused on the sight of your flushed cheeks and lidded expression.

your breath hitched in anticipation as he dropped his head, allowing his tongue to slowly circle your sensitive clit, his tongue dipping down to lap up the drips of wetness sliding down your slit.

“right.. there, please...” you whined sweetly, rolling your head back in an attempt to string any conscious thought together as he slipped two fingers inside and out slowly.

your legs attempted to press together, but eddie’s strong fingers dug into the soft skin of your inner thigh as he forced them open, his tongue working against your clit busily, entirely enveloped by you. your scent. your skin. warmth against his mouth and around his fingers. exactly where we wanted to be.

“eddie,” you moaned, rolling your hips against his busy tongue. each movement from him was mindless and uncalculated, allowing his instinct to guide each action. he wanted to force you to show him just how much you’d missed him and you were doing that.. beyond expectation as your movements became tense and your orgasm approached swiftly. you held his tongue in place and rocked your hips against him as his fingers and mouth coaxed you further, his fingers still working you over.

your legs shakily closed as eddie stood and wrapped his hands around each hip to guide you and help your weakened legs stand. he turned you, allowing your hands to rest on the equipment case for grounding as his two middle fingers parted your swollen lips from behind. he forced your mouth open, letting the slickness of your tongue guide his fingers back into your mouth. your taste flooded your tastebuds as you wrapped your lips around him and sucked his slick fingers clean, “mm, just like that.” his words were course and deep, an extra layer of baritone to his already strong voice.

you heard the undoing of his belt buckle and felt his thickness pressed against you from behind, heavy and hot against your skin. his tip leaked with pre-cum and he reached down to align himself with your sensitive entrance. he slipped inside slowly, an almost unintelligible moan escaped from his parted lips as your tightness wrapped around his thick cock. his fingers fell from your lips and his hands roughly grasped each hip to slowly guide you back further onto his cock.

he let you adjust to his size as he filled you from behind.

you weakly turned your head to the side as he leaned his chest completely against your back and joined your lips. his tongue sloppily slipped into your mouth as the slow rhythmic movement of his hips quickened, one free hand trailing up to run his fingers through your hair before grasping a handful at the root. he forced your head back further with a tug as both his cock and tongue deepened inside.

he parted the kiss, allowing breathy moans to fall from your flushed swollen lips, “feels so good,” your eyes rolled back as his lidded and darkened gaze observed each movement from you almost primitively.

“listen to you… everyone’s gonna know how much of a slut you are, getting fucked out here in the open, is that what you want?” he muttered against your ear as he increased the pace, the harshness of his pounding and grasp on your hair becoming relentless. his wide palm fell against your asscheek, his fingers gripping you tightly as a sharp burning sensation filled the spot of his hand. and another swift spank followed behind.

you whined inaudibly and sunk your teeth into your bottom lip in a failed attempt to stifle your needy whines and groans. you tip-toed to push your ass against his tense naval as you gave him the perfect angle to slide deeper with his cock. the man hummed in approval as his lips dipped down to press warm kisses against the side of your neck once more, sucking the thin skin and sinking his teeth to leave small marks in place of his lips; a keepsake, your souvenir. he knew you weren’t one for overpriced band shirts anyway.

you arched your back as another wave of ecstasy hit you like a brick wall without warning. your name fell from his lips like a hopeless prayer as he followed suit seconds later. eddie’s strong grasp released you as his forehead fell against your shoulder in his orgasm, his thrusts slowed lazily and his moans deepened and went hoarse against your skin. you both panted weakly, your body weakened and limped beneath his weight.

“i really did miss you.” your words were almost incoherent as you turned to face limply towards the man adjusting his belt and and quietly tucking an unruly curl behind his ear before nodding in knowing.

with a satisfied smirk, he leaned down to press a soft kiss against your lips, snaking his arm around the small of your waist to pull you closer to his chest.

“i know,” he mumbled into your hair as the burning question on his tongue was answered now, and not only physically.

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angellayercake · 1 year ago

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The devil is no stronger than a man

Raphael x Haarlep | Raphael x FemTav | NSFW

Tav suffers the consequences of making a deal with the Incubus Haarlep and stealing from their master! Warnings: dubious consent, spanking, face fucking, masterbation. Spiritual successor to this This fic was sponsored by this version of Hellfire

The tavern they had chosen to pass the night was filled with raucous noise. They were not the only group of adventurers seeking rest and refreshment there. The air was buzzing with stories being shared, songs being sung while ample food was passed around and the ale flowed. She lingered over her tankard sloshing the contents around within as the day's events were recounted by her companions. It could only be considered a success, having secured the hammer, avoided signing her soul over to a devil and escaped without having to face his wrath but she still couldn’t bring herself to join in the celebrations. Something felt wrong, felt off. The deal she had made with the Incubus was on her mind but she couldn’t truthfully say she regretted her actions. No, she had enjoyed their attentions thoroughly so much so that she could still feel the pleasurable tingles of their touch, just remembering how they had used their borrowed hands on her body.

She sighs, downing the rest of the warm ale, giving up on trying to join in the festivities. Because she had reached the crux of the matter. The actual owner of the form she had enjoyed so much only a few hours ago. They had done the right thing, breaking into the House of Hope. No matter how benevolent Raphael liked to make his assistance out to be, he wanted something she wasn’t willing to give. And that’s without taking into account what convoluted caveats and loopholes he might weave into any contract she might sign. She had no doubt that the century’s old devil could twist terms in a way that would take any law man a lifetime to untangle. She had seen the debtors imprisoned in his House of Hope, after everything she had fought and overcome that was not the fate she wanted for her eternal soul.

She couldn’t help but feel something about the end of their relationship, whatever it was that they had had previously. Something that she couldn’t quite define. At best he would be furious with her, at worst he would be on his way to take back what she had stolen and she would be forced to fight him. She had known this before taking this course of action and yet now it was done she almost felt regret. He had liked her, he had said so himself and despite every good reason against it she had liked him too. Truly, if she was honest with herself it went even deeper than that, the visceral attraction she felt leading her to succumb so easily to his Incubus. Haarlep wasn’t him and yet when they propositioned her using his face, his voice she was powerless to resist. And that memory was all she would have after what they had done. If she was already dwelling on what if’s and could have been she should probably just retire for the night and mope by herself. She bids her companions a good night edging around the bustling tables to the rickety staircase at the back of the room.

A touch brushes over her ass and she turns abruptly to catch the culprit but no one is there. Perplexed, she continues climbing the creaking staircase when a harsh slap sends her tripping up the final steps. Still there is not a soul near her and yet she can feel the imprint of a large hand burning on her ass. He grips the hand rail, knuckles white as she pauses to let the sensation pass but she can’t suppress a shiver when she feels clawed fingers trace across the would be mark. She glances back at her companions, surely if one of them were responsible, pulling a trick on her they would be watching ready for her reaction but they are paying her no mind. Hurrying up the last few steps to the narrow corridor above she presses her back to the wall, watching her surroundings as she makes her way to one of their shared rooms. It is thankfully empty, giving her the time she needs to understand what is happening to her as she presses her forehead to the warped door waiting for the feeling to subside. Her breath catches in her throat when she feels those same phantom clawed hands digging into the flesh of her ass spreading her open to some unknown voyeur's gaze. Except they are not unknown are they. With Haarlep’s words wringing around her head she suppresses a moan, another hard slap landing directly on top of the first. She knows exactly who is using her.

__________________________________

He had managed to keep his composure as he had returned to the House of Hope. As much as a significant part of him was screaming to go straight to the boudoir he fought the impulse. He needed to get his house in order before turning his attention there. The hammer was gone as he suspected but surprisingly there was little else missing. His prisoners and other prized possessions were where they should be, some of his papers had been rifled through and read but almost everything else was in place. He was calmer then he had anticipated, this betrayal of his favourite tempering him somewhat. The disappointment at the end of their tenuous friendly acquaintance dampening the fiery anger that should be burning through him. He at last, heads for the boudoir, surprisingly filled with trepidation at the form he will find lurking within. Haarlep is lounging on the bed, already in her form, but covered in their usual outfit of leather and chains and it is too much he needs to see all of her.

‘What do you think, Master?’ They ask looking at him with their usual brazen provocative manner but it fits ill on her face. His little mouse would never look at him like that. He watches frozen as they run their hands over her borrowed body, up her arms, strong for a mortal but he knows without trying that he could easily restrain her with just one hand. Their fingers trail over her chest dancing around the curve of her breasts cupping them in their palm and thumb stroking over the already hard nipples but they barely linger. Skimming down the curve of her waist and hips before sliding down her thighs dropping her legs open as they reach her knees, revealing her already slick cunt to him. He can’t look away, fighting the urge to take everything he wants right now so it takes a moment to register the fingers drifting up her inner thighs to her core.

‘Don’t!’ She doesn’t deserve to feel pleasurable touches even second hand as they are. ‘Take it all off and turn around,’ he barks, feeling the expected anger bubbling within him but for entirely different reasons. It is not her in front of him, stripping down and baring herself to his gaze and the knowledge burns him. He transforms into his cambion form too fraught to maintain his human facade, needing to feel somewhat at home in his body even as this unwanted and unexpected feelings itch under his skin. She is there for the taking but it is not the same, not right. But he can do something at least, show her his displeasure. She has left him the key to her undoing and despite his turmoil he will not squander the opportunity she has handed him even as she betrayed him.

Haarlep finishes removing all their straps and chains, dropping them at the foot of the bed before crawling into position. They arch her back dropping down onto their elbows giving him a perfect view of her rounded rear. Without even thinking he administers a hard quick slap, the crack of flesh meeting flesh resounding through him. Haarlep moans, pushing back into his hand for more but he doesn’t give in yet, admiring the blooming mark he has left, covering her cheek in an angry red. He follows the outline with his claws lost in the thought of all the different marks he could leave on her skin. He notices then, Haarleps heaving breaths, giving him pause. Perhaps in his efforts to punish her he has instead stumbled upon something that causes her pleasure even through the discomfort.

‘Oh my, little mouse,’ he murmurs as he grasps her ass, spreading her open before him. If it was really her he would have had to taste her, to lap at the beads of slick leaking from her but as good a replica as Haarlep could create, the taste would not be true. It seems he needs to change tact if he wants to punish her however. Ignoring her needy cunt he slaps her again, hitting exactly over the mark he had already left her with.

‘Get up and get on your knees. Now.’ Haarlep rushes to obey, sensing their usual cheek would only infuriate him further. He didn’t want his incubus now he wanted his naughty little mouse. He looks down at her, looking up at him obediently and it makes his stomach churn. He had been hard since he had laid eyes on her body, displayed just for him. He fumbles at his trousers to free his cock, smacking their hands away as they reach to assist. He doesn’t need their help.

‘Don’t look at me,’ he hisses at the incubus. It’s all wrong, her face but not her soul. Never had he been more aware of his Incubus’ limitations. ‘And open your mouth.’ Obedient again, they open up for him and he wastes no more time. They may be using her body but Haarlep’s talents were still very much apparent as he can sink to the hilt with little struggle. She would gag around him, especially in this form, her face turning red due to her mortal need to breathe. Her wide eyes would be watering from the strain, blinking up at him and beseeching him to allow her air. He pulls out watching the strings of spit break and paint her pretty face, her lips shiny and swollen already. Haarlep breathes evenly but she would be gasping even as he wound his fingers into her hair to direct her back down his cock.

Her warm mouth welcomes his length, sliding down her throat as he watches her neck bulge to accommodate him. He imagines her distress wherever she is currently camped out, gleefully celebrating her success over him. He would put a stop to that though, thrusting into her harshly. Her gang of miscreants would panic as she choked on the phantom of his length, nothing they could do to ease her suffering. She would be fine though, loathe as he was to admit. He clenches his teeth attempting to stave off his climax and continue her punishment as long as possible. But maybe, his traitorous mind supplies, she would enjoy this too. That even now she would be moaning and writhing for him as he violated her double. She wanted him somehow he knew, requesting Haarlep use his form to fuck her only hours ago. His imagination betrays him, providing the perfect picture of her knelt, grinding on her own fingers as she swallowed everything he gave her.

He cums down her throat, caught off guard by the strength of his pleasure. A groan rumbles from deep within his chest and he shallowly thrusts through his orgasm but already he can sense he is far from sated. He pulls out of Haarlep, the frustration in his chest solidifying as he tucks his cock back into his trousers. He runs his fingers through his hair pulling at the strands in an attempt to ground himself. He knows not why he is so agitated but he does know it is all her fault. He glares at her form still knelt at the foot of the bed.

‘You are to stay like this until I command you otherwise,’ he demands of the incubus, turning to stalk out of the boudoir. He needs to work this out of his system, this distraction he can not afford. So many of his plans had fallen through thanks to her petty betrayal, there was much he must reevaluate now she was now longer a piece on his lanceboard. He had to shake these irritating feelings and soon or he would quickly find himself in trouble.

__________________________________

She had crawled her way to the cot somehow during the onslaught and lies there shaking as everything seems to have stopped. She should feel angry or disgusted or repulsed by his use of her but the only feeling she can muster is frustration. Her body burns, not just from the aftermath of his touch but in need. She could feel how damp her thighs were as she pressed them together in search of any relief. If this was to be how he punished her she wasn’t sure how long she could bear it. Instead of satiating her need for him, her time with Haarlep had only fanned the flames, not satisfied with just having his facsimile. And in her desperation to rid her self of her persistent need she had inadvertently given him the very means to torture her with to his black hearts content. Her hand slips between her legs as she berates herself for ending up in this situation, even as she half hoped that next time he would use her more thoroughly.

She imagines him fucking her cunt with the ferocity he had used her throat as she slips her inadequate fingers into her soaked hole. Would he fuck her in his human or cambion form? Was there a difference between them? She bites down on the heel of her hand to stifle the moans that want to spill from her mouth as she imagines him taking her. Haarlep had fucked her to maximise both of their pleasure but everything she had learned about Raphael lead her to believe his goal would be his own pleasure. He would take and take and take from her until he was satisfied but she wanted to be used by him, she could admit that now as she shudders and cums around her own fingers. Her limbs go weak as she lies back to catch her breath but even as she comes back to herself, clarity returning, the burning need remains in her gut. She is in so much trouble.

#my writing #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #raphael bg3 #raphael x reader #raphael x tav #raphael x haarlep

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aller-geez · 6 days ago

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Snow Daze (part 1)

Written & illustrated by allergeez

Spent 3 days struggling to draw a cover for this series and I can’t say that I love it, but I couldn’t handle trying again right now so it may change for Part 2, but we’ll see~ Part 1 of a new series, (first Vaelyn series 🖤) 6k words, cold denial at a ski resort, starts out with only Vee sneezing, but eventually turns into a group sick fic 🖤 (I’m not as funny as @thekinkyleopard tho so don’t expect miracles.😂 this’ll be my first group fic so I hopefully you enjoy it 🖤) Part 2 is almost finished already, so it’ll be posted a bit later~

As always, Kezzi owns Kalypso 🖤

The studio had become a warzone over the past six months, its once-vibrant energy now stifled by tension and exhaustion. Empty cans of energy drinks littered every available surface, and the sharp tang of stale coffee permeated the air. Rexar’s guitar lay abandoned in one corner, a testament to the countless nights where inspiration had stubbornly refused to strike. The whiteboard that usually bore bold, scribbled lyrics and ambitious song structures now held a few frustrated lines scratched out so violently the marker had almost bled through.

Vaelyn sat hunched over his guitar, fingers absently plucking at the strings. His blue eyes, usually sharp and vibrant, were dull and shadowed from sleepless nights. Across the room, Rexar paced like a caged animal, his grey-and-red eyes flashing with irritation every time Vaelyn muttered a half-hearted suggestion.

“You call that a riff?” Rexar snapped one night, his voice dripping with frustration.

Vaelyn’s jaw tightened. “You got something better, front man?”

Their arguments had grown sharper, less playful over time. It wasn’t just creative differences anymore; the stress of delivering a career-defining album had sunk its claws into them both. Even their last-ditch effort—a chaotic acid trip that ended with Rexar setting the studio curtains on fire—had produced nothing but more frayed nerves.

Kriia had watched the downward spiral from the sidelines, her patience dwindling with each passing week. She was the glue that kept them from tearing each other apart, but even she had limits. After another screaming match between the two left her shaking her head in exasperation, she knew something had to change.

Late one night, armed with her laptop and a glass of wine, Kriia scrolled through endless vacation deals in a desperate attempt to find something—anything—that might salvage their sanity. That’s when she found it: a honeymoon package at an upscale ski resort tucked away in the snowy mountains. The photos were stunning—cozy cabins with roaring fireplaces, gourmet dining, private hot tubs, and panoramic views of snow-drenched peaks.

It was perfect.

“This is it,” she muttered to herself, clicking through the details. “Luxury, relaxation, and no studio in sight. They can’t argue in paradise, right?”

There was, however, one glaring problem: the honeymoon deal was strictly for couples. Kriia had no issue dragging Rexar along as her partner—it wasn’t the first time she’d posed as his wife to get what they needed—but Vaelyn was only sort of taken…

He was going to have to bring Kalypso.

The thought made her stomach churn. Kalypso, with her dramatic flair and endless scheming, was the last thing this fragile group needed, but there was no way around it. If the band was going to survive—and finish their album—Kriia had to make peace with inviting the chaos agent herself.

The tension in the studio was thick enough to cut with a knife. Rexar had his arms crossed, leaning against the wall with his sharp grey-and-red eyes narrowed in defiance, while Vaelyn sat slouched in his chair, absently tapping his guitar pick against his knee. The two were seconds away from another eruption when Kriia stormed in, laptop in hand and her green eyes blazing.

“Alright, enough!” she snapped, cutting through their brewing argument like a whip. “I can’t listen to another second of you two bickering over chord progressions or whatever the hell this fight’s about. You’re both impossible, and frankly, this album is driving all of us insane.”

Both men fell silent, Rexar quirking an eyebrow while Vaelyn rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I found something that’s going to fix this,” Kriia continued, planting the laptop on the table. “We’re going away this weekend. All of us. No studio, no album, just snow, mountains, and some much-needed space to not hate each other for a few days.”

She clicked open the details of the ski resort, the screen filled with images of plush cabins, roaring fireplaces, and luxurious buffets. Rexar’s mouth tugged into a smirk as he leaned over to get a better look.

“Snowboarding? Hot tubs? Hell yeah, I’m in,” Rexar said, already imagining carving down the slopes with the wind whipping past his face.

Vaelyn perked up slightly, though he remained guarded. “I mean… sure. Could be nice,” he muttered, trying to mask his curiosity.

Kriia folded her arms. “Good. Because you’re both going, no arguments. You need this, we need this, and we’re doing it together.”

The two exchanged a glance, their shared enthusiasm for snowboarding softening their usual edge. For a moment, the tension in the room began to dissolve—until Kriia dropped the other shoe.

“There’s just one thing,” she said, a little too nonchalantly. “It’s a… honeymoon… package.”

Rexar’s smirk turned into a full-blown grin. “Oh, this just gets better. Kriia and I get to spend a weekend soaking up the perks of being fake married, and Vee—oh man, Vee gets to bring Kalypso.”

Vaelyn’s head snapped up, his face contorting with immediate horror. “No. Absolutely not. There’s no way I’m bringing her. Do you have any idea how exhausting that’s going to be? I’m supposed to relax, not babysit.”

Rexar burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the studio. “You’re the one who’s dating her, dude. Sounds like a you problem.”

Kriia’s patience had worn razor-thin. “Listen, Vaelyn,” she said sharply, her tone brooking no argument. “You’re the one who decided to date Kalypso, so you can deal with her for a few days. I don’t care how annoying she is. We’re doing this, and you’re not backing out.”

Vaelyn groaned loudly, running a hand through his already messy hair that fell around his shoulders freely. “Fine. Whatever,” he grumbled, yanking out his phone and shooting Kalypso a quick text.

Vee:

Yo. Want to go to a ski resort this weekend? 😒😒

He didn’t elaborate, didn’t mention the “honeymoon” detail. She would find out sooner or later, but that was a problem for future Vaelyn to deal with. For now, he just needed to survive the fallout from this forced vacation.

Rexar leaned back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head, a rare look of contentment softening his sharp features. “Man, I can’t wait for this. Just think about it—snow, slopes, hot chocolate, and actual quiet time. No riffing, no deadlines, just Kriia and me in full honeymoon mode.”

Kriia raised an eyebrow at him, though her lips quirked into a smile. “Honeymoon mode? Don’t get too comfortable, babe. You’re still going to have to deal with Vee and Kalypso.”

“Yeah, but watching those two argue is like its own form of entertainment,” Rexar said with a laugh. “Plus, Vee’s gonna have to shred the slopes with me. You know, when he’s not busy trying to keep Kalypso from going full drama queen.”

Kriia shook her head fondly, while Vaelyn let out an annoyed huff from the other side of the room, his attention flicking to his phone as it chimed with a notification.

The screen lit up with Kalypso’s response:

Kalypso:

Duh, what kind of a question is that? 😒 But what’s the catch?

Vaelyn groaned loudly, running a hand down his face. “Of course,” he muttered, his thumbs flying over the screen.

Vee:

“There’s no fkn catch, Kal. Just don’t be TOO annoying. We’ll pick you up at 9 am. And don’t make us wait hella long on your ass AND DON’T expect me to carry 1200 pounds of YOUR luggage. Pack appropriately.*

He hit send and tossed the phone onto the table, sinking back into his chair with a sigh that practically oozed frustration. “Why do I do this to myself?” he muttered under his breath.

Rexar, ever the opportunist, couldn’t resist. “Because you secretly like the chaos. Don’t worry, Vee. I’m sure this will be the romantic getaway you’ve always dreamed of.”

Vaelyn shot him a glare sharp enough to cut steel, but Rexar only grinned wider.

“Rex,” Kriia chided gently, placing a hand on his arm to pull him back. “Be nice.”

Rexar shrugged, his smirk softening slightly under Kriia’s amused gaze. “Alright, alright. I’ll save the teasing for the car ride. Plenty of time for it then.”

Vaelyn rolled his eyes but didn’t bother responding, already resigned to the chaos this trip was about to bring.

The morning greeted Vaelyn like a sledgehammer to the skull. He groaned as consciousness crept in, his body aching as though he’d been dragged through gravel. His head throbbed with a dull, relentless pressure, and his sinuses felt like they’d been stuffed with cement. A damp sniffle escaped him, wet and miserable, and he wiped at his nose with the sleeve of his hoodie, only to feel the fabric grow uncomfortably damp.

His throat burned with each swallow, raw and scratchy, and his limbs felt leaden as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The old springs creaked under his weight, the sound echoing in the stillness of his room. He pressed his fingertips into his temples, trying and failing to ease the congestion pressing against his skull.

“Vee, you up?!” Kriia’s voice rang down the hall, too chipper for how early it was.

Dragging himself to his feet, Vaelyn stumbled toward his closet, his balance wobbly from the lingering dizziness. He grabbed random clothes and stuffed them haphazardly into his suitcase, pausing every few seconds as his nose twitched violently. He barely had time to lift his elbow before the sneezes overtook him.

“Hhh—Eishh!-ishh!-ish!-’shh! …hehhHH! -EEISSHHuh!!” Each fit bent him forward, his lanky frame trembling with the effort. The sound was harsh, echoing off the bare walls of his room, and left him gasping for air.

A sharp knock on the doorframe made him glance up, his bloodshot blue eyes meeting Kriia’s concerned gaze. Her dark purple eyes narrowed as she leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

“You okay?” she asked, her voice soft but laced with worry. “You sound awful.”

“Fine,” he rasped, his voice barely above a whisper. He cleared his throat, wincing as the action sent a fiery scrape through his raw vocal cords. “Suitcase is just dusty,” he added, waving her off with a dismissive hand.

“Uh-huh,” Kriia replied skeptically, her gaze lingering on his red, swollen nose and the way he swayed slightly when he moved. She didn’t push, though, letting it slide as Rexar’s booming voice erupted from the living room.

“C’mon, Princess! The car’s not loading itself!”

Vaelyn’s jaw clenched at the nickname, and he shoved his suitcase shut with more force than necessary. “Hilarious,” he muttered under his breath, grabbing the handle and dragging it down the hall.

In the driveway, Rexar leaned casually against his hummer, his sharp grey-and-red eyes gleaming with amusement. He gestured toward Vaelyn with a lazy flick of his hand as the guitarist stuffed his suitcase into the back.

“Bless you, by the way,” Rexar quipped, his smirk widening. “Hope you’re not coming down with something, or this trip’s gonna be real romantic for Kal.”

Vaelyn shot him a withering glare, his reddened nose twitching ominously. He paused, sniffled thickly, and then barely managed to growl, “Shut up, Rex, you know she likes my sneezes anyway…” before his breath hitched again.

“Hhh—hhH’EISSHHHhhuhh! ” The sneeze doubled him over, leaving him clutching the side of the hummer for balance.

Rexar chuckled, patting Vaelyn on the back. “You know, Princess, I think she’ll get over that reeeeal quick if this is any premonition…”

Vaelyn’s muffled groan was all the response he could muster.

The bitter winter air stung his flushed, feverish cheeks, and he could feel the congestion tightening behind his eyes like a vice. With every step, his boots crunched against the icy driveway, matching the soft hiss of his strained breathing.

The ride to Kalypso’s house was nothing short of torture for Vaelyn. The hum of the engine felt like it was reverberating directly through his skull, amplifying the dull, relentless pounding in his head. Rexar’s voice, normally loud but tolerable, felt grating today as he chatted away with Kriia in the front seat. Every joke, every laugh, felt like sandpaper against Vaelyn’s already raw nerves.

Slumped against the window, his dark green hair spilling messily over his face, Vaelyn let out a soft groan as another tickle bloomed deep in his sinuses. He sniffled uselessly, his red nose twitching against the itch. He scrubbed at it with his sleeve, muttering a faint, “Ugh… just kill me now,” under his breath.

When they finally pulled up to Kalypso’s house, Vaelyn forced himself to move. His legs felt like lead, and his joints ached with every step as he trudged to the front door. He muffled a couple of wet, itchy coughs into his elbow, wincing as the motion sent another wave of dizziness washing over him. His knuckles rapped against the door, the sound sharper than he intended, and he instantly regretted it when a sharp throb rippled through his temple.

The door flew open in record time, revealing Kalypso in all her gothic glory. Her jet-black hair, streaked with vivid lime green, fell in choppy layers around her pale, angular face. Her emerald green eye gleamed with its usual sharpness, but the moment her gaze landed on Vaelyn, her smile faltered.

“Jesus, you look like dog shit,” she said bluntly, her tone matter-of-fact as she leaned against the doorframe, one hand on her hip.

"Good to see you too," Vaelyn muttered back, his raspy tone doing little to hide his irritation as he turned on his heel to start walking back towards Rexar’s waiting vehicle without waiting for her. His throat was burning, every word scratching painfully, and he had half a mind to just shove her back inside and leave her there.

Kalypso grabbed her bag and followed, closing the door behind her with a loud click. Sliding into the back seat, she didn’t bother hiding her amusement as she leaned back, crossing one leg over the other.

“Sup,” Rexar greeted her with a lazy nod from the driver’s seat, his sharp grey-red eyes flicking to her briefly before returning to his phone.

Before Vaelyn could follow her in, his nose surged to life once more. He froze mid-step, head tilting back as his breath hitched wildly. “Hh-! Hh’ISCHHh! EISHhh! H’ISHHhh! —ish! shh! —sh! ………………hh’EISHHhhhuhh!” The sneezes tore through him, rapid and relentless, each one sapping the little energy he had left.

Finally, a soaked, waterlogged sniffle followed that did nothing to clear his sinuses, Vaelyn sighed to himself, exhaustion settling deeper into his bones. His red nose was practically glowing against the pale flush of his skin as he opened the hummer door and dropped into his seat like a puppet with its strings cut.

He leaned his head back against the seat with a groan, wiping his nose with the edge of his hoodie sleeve.

Kalypso wrinkled her nose, scooting an inch farther away from him. “You better not get me sick,” she warned, her voice dripping with exasperation, but her eyes told a different story as she smirked in slight arousal.

Vaelyn gave her a sidelong glare, resting his temple against the cold glass of the window. “I’b dot sick.” Vaelyn croaked, his voice hoarse and heavy with congestion. “By suitcase was id the back of by closet and was dusty as fugk. I have allergies if you rebebber.”

Rexar chuckled from the front, glancing at Vaelyn in the rearview mirror. “Yeah, okay Vee. We definitely believe you.”

Vaelyn shot him a glare, his reddened nose twitching with the ghost of another sneeze. “Shut the fugk up, Rex.”

With a grin, Rexar hit the gas, and they were off, the car filled with a mix of groans, sniffling, and Rexar’s relentless commentary. Vaelyn closed his eyes, trying to ignore the pounding in his head and the constant tickle in his throat. The trip was already shaping up to be exactly as miserable as he’d expected.

The ski resort was every bit as picturesque as Kriia had promised. Snow blanketed the rolling hills and pine trees like a perfect postcard, and rustic yet luxurious chalets dotted the landscape. The main lodge stood proudly in the center, its towering stone chimney sending plumes of woodsmoke curling into the icy air. Inside, guests lounged on plush couches by roaring fireplaces, sipping steaming mugs of hot chocolate or nibbling on an assortment of gourmet pastries from the buffet. It should have been paradise.

For Vaelyn, it was pure hell.

The moment he opened the car door, the icy air hit him like a freight train, biting into his fevered skin and making his already-clogged lungs seize painfully. A sharp cough rattled out of him, and he wrapped his arms tightly around his torso as he stepped out into the snow.

Kalypso, who had to hop down from the high seat of Rexar’s Hummer, landed with a dramatic bounce, brushing invisible snowflakes from her black jacket. Behind them, Rexar and Kriia climbed out as well, giggling quietly about something Vaelyn was too sick and too annoyed to decipher.

The cold wasn’t the only thing weighing him down. As Rexar opened the trunk and started pulling out their suitcases, Vaelyn muffled yet another violent sneezing fit into the neckline of his hoodie.

“Hhh! Hhh’EISHhh! Ishhh! hh—shh! …hhehh—hh’EESHHHHuhh!”

The wet, marshy sound was enough to make him grimace, his bare chest damp where he’d pressed the fabric to his face. He swiped at his raw, angry nose, sniffling miserably as he tried to regain some semblance of composure.

When he finally looked up, Kalypso was standing in front of him, her emerald green eye gleaming with amusement as she held out the handles of her two enormous bags.

“Still holding to the ‘it’s allergies’ excuse?” she asked with a smirk, shaking the bags slightly to get his attention.

Vaelyn sighed loudly, his aching shoulders already screaming at the thought of carrying anything heavier than himself. “Yes. It was fuckigg dusty,” he snapped stubbornly, grabbing her bags along with his own. The combined weight nearly knocked him off balance, and he had to take a moment to steady himself before trudging toward the lodge.

The warm air inside the lodge was almost too much after the biting cold, and it immediately set off another round of sneezing.

“Hhhhh-! Hihhh—godda… sdeeze! Hh’ISCHHh! EISHhh! H’ISHHhh! —ish! shh! —sh! ………………hh’EISHHhhhuhh!”

The sound echoed embarrassingly through the grand lobby, drawing a few glances from other guests. Vaelyn bent forward, bracing his hands on his knees as he rode out the fit, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

Rexar, who was collecting the room keys from the front desk, raised an eyebrow and muttered loud enough for only Kriia to hear, “You sure he’s not patient zero for a new plague?”

Kriia shot him a sharp look, elbowing him in the ribs. “Rex,” she hissed before turning her attention back to Vaelyn. Her voice softened with genuine concern. “You okay, Vee?”

“Peachy,” he croaked sarcastically, though his voice was barely audible over the congestion clogging his sinuses. His feet dragged as they followed Rexar toward the elevator, and he swayed slightly with each step, his body teetering dangerously close to giving out.

The elevator ride up was silent save for the occasional sniffle or cough from Vaelyn. Kalypso leaned against the mirrored wall, clearly more interested in scrolling through her phone than acknowledging his misery. Kriia, on the other hand, kept stealing worried glances his way, but she knew better than to press him.

When they finally reached their rooms, Rexar handed out the keys, flashing Vaelyn a pointed look. “Try not to die before we hit the slopes tomorrow, yeah? I don’t feel like carrying your ass back up the mountain.”

Vaelyn glared weakly at him, fumbling with the key card before muttering, “You’d let be freeze for a laugh and you dow it.”

Rexar just grinned. “Yeah, but I’d take a great picture first.”

Kalypso rolled her eye, grabbing her bags from Vaelyn’s shaking hands and pushing her way into their shared room. “Try not to sneeze all over everything while I’m unpacking,” she called back with a laugh.

Vaelyn didn’t even have the energy to retort. He leaned against the doorframe for a moment, his head pounding and his chest tight, before finally dragging himself into the room, already dreading the hours to come.

As he stepped through the doorway and closed the door behind him, Vaelyn winced as another powerful fit ripped through him, his entire body snapping forward at the force. “Hhh… Hh—Hh’EISSHHhh! hh’EISHHHH! —shhh! ...hhh’IESHHHuhh!” His breath hitched at the tail end, as if daring him to endure another round, but he managed to stave it off for a few precious seconds. Bracing himself against the edge of the fireplace mantle, he clung to it like a lifeline, his knuckles white against the smooth wood. His red-rimmed eyes were watery and distant, and his nose was an angry shade of pink, throbbing in time with his heartbeat. Every shallow breath rattled through his chest, heavy and wet, as if his lungs were wading through molasses.

Kalypso’s single emerald eye fixed on him with a glare sharp enough to cut glass. “God, can you stop for five seconds?” she snapped, her voice as biting as the winter wind outside. She sat perched on the couch’s armrest, her black nails tapping an impatient rhythm against her thigh.

Vaelyn groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Stob complaiding,” he shot back, though his voice was hoarse and broken, making his retort sound far less intimidating. “You’re dot the ode—hh—IESHhh!—sufferigg here.”

Another sneeze barreled out of him mid-sentence, interrupting his words with a desperate, breathless gasp. His knees buckled slightly, and he leaned harder against the mantle to steady himself, blinking furiously to clear his vision. The humiliation of his own body betraying him made him bristle even more.

Kalypso shot up from her seat, her chains clinking with the movement. “Jesus fucking Christ, Vaelyn! Just lie the fuck down already!” Her tone pitched higher as her frustration boiled over. “You’re walking around sneezing like a goddamn germ factory! I swear to god, you’re so fucking useless!”

Vaelyn blinked at her outburst, too caught off guard—and frankly too sick—to respond with his usual snark. He looked like he wanted to argue, but his shoulders slumped in defeat, the exhaustion weighing on him. “Wasn’t askig for you to babysit,” he muttered under his breath, though his congested voice robbed the words of any bite.

Kalypso threw her hands in the air. “Yeah, well, too bad!” she snapped, grabbing a plush pillow from the couch and hurling it toward the bed. “Instead of enjoying the hot tub or actually relaxing on this stupid trip, now I have to deal with your dumb, germy ass. You’re a fucking nightmare, Vee. Just lay down before you pass out or something. And if you do, I’m not calling for help—I’ll leave you here.”

Vaelyn sighed dramatically, muttering curses under his breath as he shuffled toward the bed. Every step felt like dragging himself through wet cement. He collapsed onto the comforter like a marionette with its strings cut, his long frame sprawling awkwardly. Kalypso stalked after him, glaring down at him with her hands on her hips.

“Happy dow?” he rasped, turning his face into the pillow to stifle a harsh, chesty cough that left him wincing.

Kalypso rolled her eye and grabbed the tissue box from the nightstand, tossing it squarely onto his chest. “Ecstatic,” she muttered dryly. “Now blow your nose before you drown in your own snot, dumbass.”

Vaelyn groaned but complied, blowing his nose into a crumpled tissue with a wet, gurgling honk. The action left him lightheaded, and he slumped back against the pillows with a dazed expression. “This trip… is gonnuh… hh—godda sdeeze… hhH—hh’IESHhh! hh’EISHuhh!” He barely managed to grab another tissue in time before dissolving into a fresh fit.

“God, you’re exhausting,” Kalypso muttered, stalking toward the kitchenette. She yanked a bottle of water from the mini-fridge and shoved it into his hand. “Drink. You look like you’re about to keel over, and I’m not dealing with you dying on me.”

“Thadks,” Vaelyn muttered, though his tone dripped with sarcasm. He sat up before cracking the bottle open with trembling hands, taking a small sip as Kriia poked her head into the room.

“Everything okay in here?” she asked cautiously, her deep purple eyes scanning the scene with a mixture of concern and amusement.

Kalypso threw her hands up in exaggerated exasperation. “Oh, yeah, totally fine! Just playing nursemaid to this walking biohazard instead of soaking in the hot tub like I planned!”

Kriia smirked knowingly, turning her gaze to Vaelyn. “Vee, you good?”

He waved a hand weakly, his fever flushed cheeks standing out among the eggshell colored bed linen. “Alive,” he croaked, though his voice cracked painfully.

Kriia chuckled softly. “Well, that’s something.”

Kalypso flopped dramatically onto the couch, grabbing her phone and muttering loud enough for everyone to hear. “I’m charging him for this emotional labor.”

Vaelyn’s lips twitched with the faintest hint of a smirk before he buried his face in another tissue, sneezing again with a force that made Kalypso groan audibly from the couch.

Kriia sighed, giving Vaelyn one last concerned glance before shaking her head and standing. “Alright, well, try not to die before dinner,” she teased lightly, stretching her arms over her head. “We’ve got reservations in a few hours, and I’d rather not have to explain to the hotel staff why my roommate perished from self-inflicted stubbornness.”

Vaelyn grumbled something unintelligible into his pillow, punctuated by a sluggish sniffle. Kalypso barely spared him a glance as she scrolled through her phone, her legs stretched out comfortably along the couch.

Rexar, who had been uncharacteristically quiet up until now, finally spoke up from behind Kriia, arms folded behind his head. “Man, I can’t wait to see you attempt to be a functioning human at dinner.” He smirked. “It’s gonna be like watching a zombie try to blend in at a five-star restaurant.”

Vaelyn groaned and sat up just enough to glare at him, his blue eyes watery and rimmed with exhaustion. “I’b fide,” he muttered, voice barely above a congested rasp. He wiped his nose against his hoodie sleeve—much to Kalypso’s audible disgust—and slumped back against the pillows.

“You’re so not fine,” Kriia corrected, rolling her eyes as she grabbed her bag. “But whatever, it’s your funeral. I’m gonna go get ready. Try to make yourself at least look alive before we leave.”

Rexar stretched with a dramatic groan, cracking his neck. “Yeah, yeah. Guess I’ll make an effort too. Gotta look good for all the rich tourists.” He shot Vaelyn a teasing wink. “You, though? Maybe just invest in a lot of concealer.”

Vaelyn lifted a middle finger in his general direction before turning onto his side, burying his face back into the pillow.

Kalypso, still stretched out across the couch, gave a lazy sigh. “Well, I guess I should get ready too.” She glanced toward Vaelyn’s miserable heap of a form and smirked. “You need help picking out an outfit, Princess? Or do you just wanna roll up in that hoodie, all sniffly and tragic? I hear pity gets you free drinks.”

Vaelyn let out a weak, muffled groan that was quickly swallowed by another harsh sneezing fit. Kalypso yelped, dramatically recoiling as if he’d just unleashed a biohazard into the room. “Oh my God, you’re a disaster,” she griped, running a hand down her face.

Vaelyn grinned lazily, eyes half-shut, barely listening. “Fuggk you,” he rasped, sniffling damply into the tissue he barely bothered using. “If I suffer, you suffer.”

As Kriia and Rexar left the room to go get ready, Kalypso tossed another tissue box toward Vaelyn’s head, which he barely managed to catch. “At least try to contain yourself before we go.”

Vaelyn exhaled heavily, rubbing at his sore, twitching nose with the back of his wrist. He sniffled again—so deep and murky it made her physically recoil.

Kalypso huffed, dragging herself up from the couch and grabbing the remote off the nightstand. The room was already suffocating under the weight of Vaelyn’s sniffling, coughing, and dramatic, wet sneezes, and if she had to listen to another one echo off the walls like a goddamn shotgun blast, she was going to smother him with a pillow.

With a sharp click, the massive flatscreen flickered to life, flooding the dim room with artificial light. She flipped through the channels quickly, searching for something—anything—to drown him out. Antiques Roadshow filled the room, the refined voice of an elderly appraiser describing a “rather exquisite 19th-century silver tea set.”

Perfect. Boring. Unbearably dull.

Behind her, Vaelyn was doing his absolute best to be as obnoxious as possible.

First came the exaggerated sniffles, loud and congested, dragging through his sinuses in a long, drawn-out snnrrffk that made Kalypso’s eye twitch. He followed it up with a few pitiful little coughs, as if testing the waters, before escalating to full-on dramatic wheezing.

“Oh my God,” she groaned, pressing the volume button until the television nearly shook with the sound of an auctioneer rattling off bids. “Could you not?”

Vaelyn barely looked up from where he was sprawled across the bed, his long limbs tangled in the blankets like a man who had fully accepted his slow, miserable demise. His blue eyes—bleary and heavy-lidded with exhaustion—flicked toward her, glinting with pure mischief beneath the mess of his overgrown bangs. Utterly unrepentant, he slumped back against the pillows, his lips parting as he blinked dazedly up at the ceiling. His breath hitched softly again, teasing another fit, and Kalypso braced herself for another obnoxiously loud assault on her eardrums.

Instead, he sighed—deep, stuffy, and pitiful. “I cad’t stop,” he groaned, His voice was a wreck—hoarse and strained, thick with congestion. “Feels like a billiod bees crawled up by dose add are havigg a party.” He croaked, dragging the back of his hand against his red, irritated nose. “I’b just… hh—hhiihhh… suffering.”

Kalypso turned up the volume again.

The booming voice of an elderly man filled the room, his tone enthusiastic as he gestured toward a faded porcelain vase on the screen. “This fine specimen dates back to the Qing Dynasty and is valued at approximately—”

Kalypso smirked, dropping the remote onto the nightstand triumphantly. There. If Vaelyn was going to make her life hell, then she was going to bore him into submission.

But to her absolute horror, Vaelyn perked up.

“Ohhh, dude, that’s actually sick,” he muttered, sniffing sharply as he propped himself up on one elbow.

Kalypso blinked. “Wait. What?”

Vaelyn cleared his throat, scrubbing at his nose with the edge of his hoodie sleeve. “Look at the detail od that vase,” he continued, his voice thick and nasally. “The glazi’g is idcredibly well preserved—Dt’ISHHh! Ishh! Ish! Ish!—shh! —sh! …… …Hehh’ISHHHhew!”

The sneezes burst out of him in rapid, itchy succession, folding him at the waist where he sat. His shoulders tensed as the last one left him gasping, and he clumsily pawed around for a tissue with his free hand, eyes fluttering as the aftershocks of the fit shivered through his sinuses.

Kalypso rolled her eyes. “Okay, that’s it, I’m turning it off.”

“Wait—do’d’t!” Vaelyn whined, snatching the remote before she could reach for it. His voice was breathy and uneven, still tangled in the aftermath of his fit. “You hadda start it—hhHh! Hh’ISCHHh!—so we gotta see what it’s worth.”

Kalypso let out an exaggerated groan and flopped back onto the couch, rubbing her temples. “You are such a loser, oh my God.”

His brows furrowed slightly in concentration, his mouth parted just enough to suggest actual, genuine curiosity. He was watching the screen like it held the secrets of the universe.

And then, right when she thought he had finally shut up, he pointed at the desk being appraised and muttered, “Dude, I’b telling you—that’s worth at least forty-five grand.”

Kalypso blinked. “…what?”

Vaelyn sniffled, wiping his nose halfheartedly on the sleeve of his hoodie before jabbing a finger toward the screen. “See how the ha’dles are carved? That’s high-quality shit, Kal. Bet you adythigg—hhehh… Hhhiihhh... eishh!-ishh!-ish!-’shh!... —hehh’HH-EESSSHHHhhuh!—nnngh… fuggk.” He sniffled again, swiping at his nose. “I bet you it’s—Hh’ISCHHh! EISHhh! H’ISHHhh! —ish! shh! —sh! …ugh!”

Kalypso groaned, kicking at his leg. “Geezus, Vaelyn. Would you just finish sneezing before you start making bets?”

Vaelyn let out a weak little wheeze of a laugh, rubbing furiously at his irritated nose as he sniffled again. His lashes fluttered, lips parting slightly as if the tickle wasn’t quite done with him yet.

Kalypso watched, exasperated, as he hovered on the edge, breath hitching lightly—waiting, waiting—before his face crumpled and—

“hh—huhhh—HHHIESHHHHhhuhh!!”

It was violent, his body snapping forward with the sheer force of it. His hair, already a wild mess, flopped into his face as he barely caught the sneeze against his wrist.

He flopped back into the pillows with a congested, miserable groan. “Fuggkid’—dew that was godda be a big ode…”

Kalypso shook her head, unable to suppress her smirk. “You are so dramatic.”

Vaelyn lifted a lazy middle finger. “Add you love it.”

Kalypso would have argued—should have argued—but instead, she snorted, giving his shin a halfhearted kick. “Shut up.”

Despite herself, she found her gaze drifting back toward the screen.

“—so, given its pristine condition, I would estimate this piece at… forty-two thousand dollars.”

Vaelyn let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Shid, I was close! That’s insade,” he muttered, pressing a tissue to his nose with a congested sniff.

Kalypso groaned again, though there was less bite to it this time. “Great. Now you’ve infected me with your nerdiness.”

Vaelyn smirked sleepily. “It’s just the adtiques getti’g to you.”

They fell into a rhythm after that—an uncharacteristic truce forged in the fires of pure boredom and mutual disdain for moving. Kalypso, despite herself, started throwing in snarky commentary every time some rich idiot gasped at the worth of an old clock. Vaelyn, for his part, got more animated the longer they watched, pausing only to sneeze or blow his nose before launching into another half-baked analysis on “just how sick that carvigg techdique is, Kal, you dod’t get it.”

And—against all odds—Kalypso actually found herself laughing, tossing in occasional commentary that had Vaelyn snorting through his congested nose. And, surprisingly, the more they joked, the more relaxed she felt.

It was subtle at first—a scoff here, a smirk there—but as the minutes stretched into an hour, she found herself shoving his arm lightly when he said something particularly dumb, or shaking her head with a half-smile when he barely managed to get through a sentence before another sneezing fit tore through him.

He was so fucking pathetic, but somehow, it was starting to get… kind of endearing?

She shook the thought away as quickly as it came.

Vaelyn, too sick and tired to keep up his usual bravado, leaned into her warmth without hesitation, his fever-flushed skin hot against her shoulder. His sniffles never quite ceased, his breath hitching every few minutes as his nose betrayed him over and over again, forcing him to press his face into his hoodie sleeve with another helpless, “hhh-HHhh—! Eh-hh! EISHHh! —ISSHHh! ISHH!-ish!-’shh!... HH—……HH’EISSCHH’uhhh!”

Kalypso, who had been deeply irritated by the sneezing at the start of the night, found herself less and less bothered as the evening stretched on. Maybe it was the fever that made him so compliant, or the way he melted against her shoulder every time she bumped into him, but something about the way his body jolted with each sharp, breathless release made her stomach twist in a way she didn’t quite hate.

And maybe—just maybe—she didn’t actually mind the way he leaned against her, warm and pathetic and entirely at her mercy…

To be continued…

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dustedmagazine · 2 months ago

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Tsunami — Loud Is As (Numero Group)

Tsunami rolled over the 1990s like the natural phenomenon it was named for, swamping conventions about what punk should sound like, who should make it, how it should be delivered to its audience and what subjects it should tackle. Coming out of a DC hardcore scene defined by an angular, aggressive hyper male sound, Tsunami was half-female, dauntingly intelligent, haunted by melody and smothered in fuzz. A new box set from Numero documents the band’s eight year run, including three full albums, 11 singles and some unreleased four-track demos. An exhaustively researched history by Joe Gross comes illustrated with contemporary photography, concert flyers, backstage passes and album art. Four pre-eminent female music critics—Jen Pelly, Evelyn McDonnell, Gina Arnold and Ann Powers—offer personal reflections on individual Tsunami albums. It is a gloriously complete retrospective. If you’re not cherry picking favorites and reliving memories from the first time around, expect to be overwhelmed. It will require some time to get a handle on this.

It began in Arlington, Virginia, at a punk house called Positive Force, where Jenny Toomey and John Pamer first met in 1990, and shortly after that, encountered Kristin Thompson. Toomey’s college band, Geek, was winding down, and she had started her own label, Simple Machines. A last hurrah, summer tour for Geek, supporting Superchunk and Seaweed, threw her into contact with Andrew Webster, soon to be Tsunami’s bass player. The band came together after their return. Toomey and Thompson played guitar, with Toomey singing, and Pamer sat in on drums.

Things moved quickly after that. A nine-song cassette called Cow’s Arcade came out early in 1991, followed by the Headringer 7” later in the spring. In August of that year, Tsunami toured with Velocity Girl and played at the International Pop Underground Convention in Olympia, Washington, alongside Beat Happening, Bikini Kill and Fugazi, still less than a year into their run as a band. It was about this time that they wrote and recorded “Genius of Crack,” still one of Tsunami’s best known tunes and a wonderfully noisy but languid meditation on alienation. “We're so slack, we come off like geniuses on crack,” Toomey belts against a beautiful roar of feedback-addled guitar tone.

A spate of singles and compilation tracks took Tsunami through 1992, and in 1993, the first LP, Deep End appeared. That full-length takes up the entirety of LP 1 in this five-album set. Side one ends with the furious drone and churn of “460,” whose explosive energy and shimmering textures cross the Replacements with, oh, I don’t know, Bailter Space. That same year, 1993, Tsunami toured with Superchunk, opened for PJ Harvey once or twice, and got invited to play at the Primus/Alice in Chains/Dinosaur Jr. headed Lollapalooza.

Heart’s Tremolo, in 1994, interspersed lyrical intervals with blaring guitar mayhem, very much in the loud-quiet way of the mid-1990s. Songs like “Fast Food Medicine” simmer disconsolately before they flare to life, and the song “Fits and Starts” begins its brief life as a folk song, full of squeaky string slides and earnest poetry. “Quietnova” is the album’s opener and a statement of purpose; the most dangerous stuff isn’t always the loudest.

The third LP encompasses the 1995 singles/B-sides/compilation tracks compendium World Tour and Other Destinations. It includes another version of “Genius of Crack,” the wonderfully noisy “Kickball Babe,” Tsunami’s surprisingly sensitive (and only holiday offering) “Could Have Been Christmas” and their full-throated Minutemen cover “Courage,” among others. A Brilliant Mistake, from 1997, expands the instrumentation further, with jazz-leaning bass and Luther “Trip” Grey’s intricate and unhinged drumming (check out the opening to “David Foster Wallace”).

This review, of course, can’t describe any more than a fraction of what Tsunami puts on offer here. The set includes 62 songs, more than three and a half hours of music, in-depth history and analysis and loads of imagery. Tsunami may have roared into the culture like a tidal wave—and retreated almost as quickly — but this expansive box set reminds us (or perhaps informs us in the first place) of what made them special.

Jennifer Kelly

#tsunami #loud is as #numero group #jennifer kelly #albumreview #dusted magazine #dc hardcore #jenny toomey #lollapalooza #punk #fuzz

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sinfulsalutations · 1 year ago

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𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙 𝕒 𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖𝕗𝕝𝕪, 𝕝𝕖𝕥 𝕚𝕥 𝕘𝕠 ⋆*･ﾟ 𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕙𝕦𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣

ᴘᴛ ɪ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴇ. ᴘᴛ ɪɪ ꜱᴛᴀᴠᴇ. ᴘᴛ ɪɪɪ ꜱᴛᴜᴅʏ. ᴘᴛ ɪᴠ ꜱɪɴ. ᴘᴛ ᴠ ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛ. ᴘᴛ ᴠɪ ꜱᴇɴᴅᴏꜰꜰ.

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ꜱᴇʀɢᴇᴀɴᴛ ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ☆ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴇɴᴛᴀɴɢʟᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴀ ꜰʟᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ ꜰʟɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴄᴀᴍᴘ ᴄᴏᴜɴꜱᴇʟᴏʀ.

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ ᴄᴀᴍᴘ ᴀᴜ, ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʀ ᴡᴀʀꜱ ʀᴇꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴇɴꜱᴇ, ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, (ᴍᴜᴛᴜᴀʟ) ᴘɪɴɪɴɢ, ᴀᴡᴋᴡᴀʀᴅɴᴇꜱꜱ, ɪ ꜱʜɪᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ ʜᴏꜱᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴅᴏɢ (ɴᴏᴛᴇ: ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴀɢꜱ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ/ʙᴇ ᴀᴅᴊᴜꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ)

➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ☆ 3ᴋ

➼ ᴘᴏᴠ ☆ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ

⋆ ★ ᴍʏ ʙʀᴀɪɴʀᴏᴛ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴀᴜ ɪꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜʏ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ.

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

You try to avoid Hunter at all costs.

The task pertains to be quite difficult, seeing as how frequently your cabins get paired up. And how he (unknowingly) makes you fawn over him even more whenever you spend time with him.

But he stays the same. Relatively. That makes things just a twinge easier.

He still has that gorgeous way he holds himself and the sweet way he is with the campers, giving the kids piggyback rides and exchanging friendship bracelets until his wrists are ill-defined under all the string, but that same sense of his eyes on you is all too common now. He knows something’s up; you’re acting strange—more strange than usual, at least. (You're always a bit of a mess around him).

The point stands, though; you can’t help but feel like you’ve violated his privacy, even if it was an accident. Especially since you can’t get the view of his bare chest and hips out of your mind, how the droplets perfectly cascaded down his skin, and how his strong arms reached up to pull his hair back, taking a deep breath of salvation when he broke through the water. Before you go to bed, in your depraved thoughts that help lull you to sleep, you feel him, how his muscles contrast with the softness of his expression, how his lips might feel against yours, then trailing over your skin lower and lower, to where your heat pools in a sopping center, all belonging to and due to his doing. Oh, to be pressed up against him; to not feel salaciously dirty imagining such fantasies with a fellow camp counselor.

You keep it on the down-low. Spend your time having fun with your campers and gossiping with Mona, finding new locations to sing about in ‘Once there was a Jedi’ before the boys complain the song is getting old. Help Omega finish a lanyard to add to her growing keychain collection adorning her backpack.

Hunter asks you about your behavior eventually, in passing and almost half-heartedly, when your groups cross paths on the way to and from the archery range.

His eyes linger when he walks past. You tense up and anticipate the worst.

“Hey,” is all he says at first. You blink hard, deciding to focus your stare right on his shark-tooth necklace. “Are you okay?”

You nod, unable to form coherent words. He doesn’t respond for a moment, studying your face to see if there’s anything else hidden underneath the surface.

“Are you sure?” He asks, more serious this time. “You just seem a little quiet recently. Avoiding something.”

Hunter barely finishes his sentence before you’re shaking your head aggressively.

“I’m sure!” You sound a little too enthusiastic about your statement, and Hunter frowns. Your eyes widen a little but don’t allow yourself to show your panic any more than that.

“Alright,” he finally says with a shrug, turning to walk away. “See you around, then.”

You let out a sigh of relief, though feel a little bad when he turns away and walks off without a single glimpse back at you. Despite this little detour of awkwardness, you wouldn’t like to be unfriendly. Or not hang out with him at all.

But your campers don’t give you time to think about that when they’re already racing ahead of you, yelling that they can’t be late to the range or else Crosshair will chew them out.

You huff and suppress a loud yawn, wiping the hair that’s stuck to your face from all the sweat. The day turned into a restless chase as the girls saw a deer while practicing their archery skills, quickly abandoning their bows and arrows to instead go find the animal they affectionately named Philomena.

They never found Philomena, but instead found what happens when you’re exhausted and stressed.

“You’re all going to stick by my side, understand?” You emphasize, blocking the door so no one can leave before they listen to what you have to say. “No scurrying off because you see a critter.”

The girls don’t look too happy about it, but you’re not about to chase after them again.

You let them out, watching as they trudge in front of you while you wave Mona and Hunter over, both groups already looking like they’re waiting for you. With a tender apology, followed by a ‘not necessary’ comment from Hunter, you all begin to make your way to the trail.

Steady steps and melodic marches keep you sane in the silence save for chirping birds and crunching leaves, the girls oddly silent as you make your way through the bramble. The boys wait for them to speak, and when they don't, they begin to get testy.

"I'm bored!" Ryan whines, head lolling to the sky.

"Hm, are you now?" Jackie, one of Mona's campers, deadpans.

"Shut up!"

"Ryan. What did we talk about?"

Hunter's stern ream puts Ryan back in his place, and he half-heartedly mutters,

"...Sorry."

It’s not long before the boys' boredom starts to claw at their skin and they begin a game.

“The topic is… fruit!” Nate declares.

“Apple!”

“Banana!”

“Uh… Cantaloupe?”

“I thought that started with a K!”

Omega and Betty erupt into giggles, and you and Mona exchange looks.

The older girls aren’t as nearly interested in playing any silly games and find more enjoyment in talking about their plans when they go home and see their boyfriends; Mona has to reprimand them when their recollections get too suggestive for the ears of the younger kids.

Meanwhile, you remain healthily spaced out, your gaze often drifting between the cartoon clouds softly floating in the sky and the back of Hunter’s hair where his bandana is tied, too tired to focus on anything else. You’d be completely fine and enthusiastic even if the campers just decided to go up to the spot they’d been planning to go to, watch the sunset, and go back without any deviations in between. That is not how it goes, however.

Your attention is piqued fully when a strewn tree branch renders the walking path clear.

“Hunter!” Cam whines, pointing at the brown twigs and leaves that’d been knocked to the ground beside the larger branch. “I can’t step over it!”

Hunter turns his head a little, which just manages to get you a glimpse of how he bites his lip and lets out a deep exhale before going to help.

He rolls up his sleeves and lifts the branch of the path easily, tossing it to the side brush.

Your eyes almost instantly (and embarrassingly) lock onto Hunter’s forearms slipping out of his rolled-up flannel, the light hair neatly brushed, the tanned and rough skin so perfectly contrasting to the pink and yellow friendship bracelets on his wrists. Fuck, you can’t look away.

Which makes you acutely unobservant of your surroundings.

You step right on a rock and your foot slips.

In your surprise, you almost yell out a rather inappropriate curse word, but you yelp weakly instead as your entire body slides down under the unbalance of your feet and you fall off the path. The dry, rough texture of the ground suddenly turns wet and rather smooth as you fall further, with the entire side of your face getting smushed. You quickly lift your head and sputter out the disgusting taste suddenly covering your tongue.

“Maker!” Is all your grit, jaw slack as you just process what happened to you. Over your shoulder, the sound of small snickers graces your ears, and you want to scowl in whatever direction they’re coming from. No doubt, it’s from Mona’s campers. Teenage girls are mean.

Wet steps come from your side, and you feel a hand on the arm not covered in mud.

“Are you okay?”

The question is pity-doting, worried, and from that voice again. You’re unsure if you should be more embarrassed that you’re drenched in mud or that you’re drenched in mud because of your shameless ogling.

“Yeah, I’m fine." Your words are barely pushing out of your chest as you try to get up. Hunter still has a steady grip on your arm to help you up. “Damn it!” You curse under your breath. Your hand covered in mud brushes your sodden hair out of your face, and you watch his pronounced frown as he looks down at you. “I should uh, probably head back.”

“Want me to come with you?”

It’s the initial reaction of surprise that almost makes you fall back down again.

“I think I could make it back on my own,” you insist, shaking your head as you try to leave his grasp. Hunter moves, remaining in front of you so you can’t leave.

“Are you sure? Because, well, I don’t want you falling again. Your vision’s a little impaired.”

Without any regard for how soiled and gross you are right now, his thumbs reach and softly wipe away the dirt covering your face. Your eyes flutter but remain half-lidded, with the blaring sun right in your line of vision. Hunter’s eyes are on you again.

You feel your heart jump a few notes ahead as his gentle touch sends a shiver down your spine. Taking deep, long breaths to steady your breathing, he continues to wipe away the dirt and mud from your face, and you become suddenly unsure if the heat in your face is from the glare of the sun or your blush.

“Thanks, Hunter,” you finally manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nods.

“It’s not a problem. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

That moment, entirely your own, gets tragically interrupted by Mona.

“You two head on back,” she says before gesturing to the campers. “I can handle them myself.”

Hunter whips his head around and yells back, “Are you sure?”

She lets out a dismissive ‘pssh’ sound, waving a hand in the air.

“Absolutely! Just make sure she doesn’t lose her way.”

You chuckle, flashing a daring look in Mona’s direction, before all of your thoughts cease with the feeling of Hunter’s fingers slowly interlocking around your wrist.

“Come on, Maple,” he says, tugging you gently. “Let’s get you back to camp.”

The walk stays relatively silent, save for Hunter’s occasional grunts and your yelps when something eludes your line of sight.

His hand remains locked around your wrist, keeping you no more than a few inches apart as you walk, but you still consciously try and keep a relative distance; this is a burden on him, isn’t it? Hunter’s walking you back to camp while you're covered in mud when he could’ve been watching the sunset and enjoying his night with his campers. You don’t want to make it worse by getting him all dirty too.

Yet you get that same oh-so-familiar feeling again; why does it feel like his eyes are perpetually fixed on you?

When you arrive on your porch, you hesitate before entering. Hunter looks at you, tilting his head while you rock back and forth on your heels.

“Something wrong?” He asks you.

You whine squeamishly, shifting your weight from one foot to another.

“...Don’t wanna track mud inside.”

Hunter's jaw slacks, nodding slowly as he considers an alternate option to wash you off. His scanning, drifting eyes, drinking in your appearance at long intervals, are nothing to read into, you try to assure yourself. How dare your brain indulge in this silly crush when he's simply just a kind person?

“I can just go through the backdoor; it’s fine." You begin to pull away instead, but he tightens his hold and pulls you back. You almost fall into his chest, which would frankly make you feel even worse.

He proposes a new idea.

“How `bout we grab you a hose?”

You blink, then snicker. A smile threatens to crack your expression, and small giggles bubble out of your throat as you try to suppress them. Something in his face is deadly serious. You notice it starkly after a moment, even without the clue his eyes might’ve given you.

“What?” You say, breathy and stunned.

“I’m serious!” His expression softens as he laughs. Your chest doesn't have to be so tight, but it remains stiff under your skin. “It’ll be an easier way to get all the mud off. Then we can wring you off, and you can take a proper shower in your cabin.”

You giggle again, still processing his audacious offer.

“Alright, that could work." You finally settle, still snorting softly to yourself as he lets go of your wrist and leaves you on the porch.

“Don’t move, alright?” He rests a hand in the air, eyebrows raised in an affirming manner. You grin coyly and nod. “I’ll be right back.”

You shrug.

“There’s no place for me to go, really.”

That manages to get a genuine laugh out of Hunter before he scurries off.

When he returns, he gestures to the side of your cabin with two towels in his arms that he sets on the porch while he uncoils the hose from the side. You drop your backpack, shaking off glops of mud that have been collecting on your clothes. You flash Hunter a meek smile when he points the hose at you, still trying to fathom how damn comedic yet productive this is.

“Ready?” He asks with a smile.

You nod, laughing again.

“Fire away, Hunter.”

He turns on the hose.

The first rush of water hits you like a bucket of ice. Your eyes close and your jaw slacks, limbs tensing up. You gasp and shiver, shielding your body with your arms. Hunter laughs.

You gasp at his temerity, tilting your chin up to gawk in what you believe to be his direction.

"Hunter!" You call out his name; the circumstances melt away that strange fear you held to even say it.

"What's up, Maple?" He answers nonchalantly. You mean to gasp in offense again, you really do, but you can't stop your giggling.

“It’s freezing!” You squeal, eyes shut, as you shiver again.

“Colder than the lake water?” He asks, and if your eyes were open you would’ve let them roll to the back of your head.

“Yes! Really damn cold! Kriff !” You allow yourself to swear, not caring about watching your language when no one else is around. He laughs again, but it’s sweet and feels warm in your body in contrast to how cold the water is.

You tilt your head back as Hunter moves the hose over your face, then your hair, getting the last bits off before he turns it off. His eyes are on you; you can feel it, as suddenly there’s one last spray poured onto you that makes you squeak.

Both of you erupt into giggles once he finally decides to stop tormenting you; your eyes are still closed when you feel a towel wrapped around you.

“You alright?” There are calloused fingers by your face, brushing your hair aside and tucking it gently behind your ear. You’re smiling like a damn fool; you know that. But you let yourself, let your eyes flutter open softly, and look into his eyes for the first time.

They’re brown, just like his sister’s.

“Yeah, I’m fine." You respond softly, gripping the towel close to your body. Your clothes have begun to stick to your body, fitting your form and revealing way more than what's appropriate. You shiver again, adjusting to the temperature, and Hunter runs his hands up and down over your shoulders.

Your eyes flutter once or twice, feeling the way his hands run up and down you, soothing your nerves as you steady your breath.

“Good,” He smiles, and you grin back. You bet there’s a sparkle in your eyes, based on the way your stomach leaps and your heart beats in your ribcage. If you look closely enough, you might think you see his eyes flicker like fireflies as well.

The world dissolves; singing birds, rippling water, and the sound of distant campers by the activities cabin are no longer background noises as you look into his eyes. How did you manage to stave off capturing his stare for so long? They’re beautiful. Kind and soft and endearing, like the perfect reflection of afternoon sunlight on sudor. You don’t even dare to blink, lest you waste a single moment getting wrapped in his gaze.

Hunter is the one to break eye contact, breathing deeply and looking down. He licks his lips, keeping his gaze down for a moment before tilting it up again. Your jaw slacks.

“Uh, you should probably take an actual shower now,” he says, stagnating and labored. You take a step back, shoulders slumping.

“Yeah, I should,” you tell him. That smile of his comes back again, and that moment of uneasiness leaves you. He's not unhappy, far from it; looking into his eyes lets you know that.

"Maybe when you're done..." He trails off. Your head follows his movements when he circles you, turning toward the direction of the mess hall. "We can hang out together."

You tilt your head.

"Yeah?"

Hunter shrugs half-heartedly, his smile a little weak with a new sense of insecurity in his actions.

"I mean, we didn't get to see the sunset," he brings up. Your jaw slacks, and your lips part.

"We didn't," is all you say.

He nods, clicking his tongue.

"We can find our own thing to do." Hunter says it like a statement, something that is sure to happen. He doesn't ask for your input, seeing in your eyes the wistful hope you carry while he stands there. You want to spend time with him. He wants to spend time with you.

"Yeah. Yeah."

Clearly, you've learned from before that you should probably use more words around Hunter before he thinks you're an imp. That doesn't seem to cross his mind as he grins.

"Let's circle back to it when you're out of the shower."

You nod a little too aggressively and speak a little too meekish.

"OK."

Hunter's grin widens to a smile.

"See you soon, Maple."

With his wave, you turn your back and skitter into your cabin; it's only as you're stripping off your damp clothes still insistently clinging to your body do you realize Hunter had been able to see your bra through your white shirt the entire time.

tags: @starstofillmydream @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @badbatchbabe @ladytano420 @jediknightjana @sleepycreativewriter @shinyshayminflower @thebahdbitch @secondaryrealm @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @kimiheartblade @followthepurrgil @wolffegirlsunite @starrylothcat @blueink-bluesoul @aconstructofamind @padawancat97 @littlemissmanga @starqueensthings @anxiouspineapple99 @freesia-writes @wings-and-beskar @clio3kantarella @secretthegriffin @idontgetanysleep @523rdrebel @dystopicjumpsuit @mandos-mind-trick @sunshinesdaydream @clonemedickix @andrakass2 @jesjestraverse @ladyzirkonia @multi-fan-dom-madness @moonlightwarriorqueen

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transtalesofdoom · 11 months ago

Text

The Label Thing - personal experience

I've talked previously about labels I've considered, used, or decided not to use in passing. Let's talk about it in a bit more detail!

I like labels. It's a personal preference, and I understand why someone wouldn't, but I like having words to describe myself with. I like having a handful of terms to explain my experiences quickly. I also like knowing that there's more people with these experiences, grouped under my label. Makes it feel a little less lonely.

Before the whole gender thing, I had already picked out the labels of biromantic asexual. Gender never really meant anything to me, and why would I care about stuff like genitals if I didn't intend to interact with them. Opted for bi over pan because it sounded nicer and the flag was prettier.

And then the gender thing happened and I suddenly had an entirely new experience to describe. One that was still developing.

The first day after I had come out to myself, I neither liked the term "man" nor "trans" for myself. Both seemed too solid for what I was. I was a dude or a guy, but a man? There's the whole societal aspect to it, how trans men can get treated poorly for "becoming the enemy", that I won't get into here, but it definitely was at play. And "trans" had an oddly definitive feeling to it. Like I had a gender and goal in mind, when I very much didn't. This was weird to me, because I knew that's not how the label is used. Anything that isn't cis can be labeled as trans. But at first it felt like I was appropriating it.

Nonbinary was a pretty safe catch-all. I was, by the very definition, not binary. Nor did I think anyone else was, but that was beside the point. Genderqueer was another option worth considering, since my gender was most definitely queer, but something about it didn't really click with me. Maybe it was the flag and the fact that certain trans-exclusionists used the same colors because they fancied themselves suffragettes.

I became a little more comfortable with it as the compound of transmasc. That was me. I was transing into the masculine. Not very committal, but a descriptor of what I was up to with the gender.

I still liked the term "woman", weirdly enough. Having watched so many Woman-Power movies (shoutout to Oceans 8 and Birds of Prey specifically), it had taken a while for me to fully embrace that label to begin with, and once I had managed to find it empowering, I didn't want to let go of it again. Even if I was transmasc, "Woman" by Kesha was too good of a song to leave behind. I was a motherfucking woman!

I did a bit more snooping around into other labels to see if anything would stick. I found and read the comics by ND Stevenson, and came across the ones where he describes being bigender. And I liked that description. It resonated with me. Especially because he references the Kesha song, I guess. 'Vibrating between genders too fast to see' felt relatable. So maybe I was bigender?

But I wasn't vibrating between male and female. Those were a part of it, sure, but there was more. And also less. I was every gender and no gender simultaneously. And while that is a possible subgroup of bigender, it once again felt like using the term, although I liked it, wouldn't properly convey my experience.

That night I decided to coin "fuckgender", only to discover that not only did this label already exist, but it also described exactly what I was feeling. (Not to be confused with genderfuck.) And yet, while that was a fun little anecdote, it wasn't what I wanted from a label. And the fact that other people were using it, thereby turning it into a functioning microlabel, made it less appealing to me, somehow.

Instead, I decided to embrace "trans" as an umbrella term for the time being. I didn't really need to define it any further. "transmasculine nonbinary" worked well enough to convey my identity to others. I could elaborate for those who wanted to know more. For myself, the label was the same as my gender. It was kinda there and kinda not, both everything and nothing all at once. More of a general vibe than an actual word.

And that works for now. Maybe that will change. Probably, even. I might embrace bigender, or multigender, I might find my trans experience to be binary enough to go by trans man. Maybe I'll do a U-turn and become a nonbinary woman.

There's only one way to find out and personally, I'm excited for it.

#trans #transgender #personal #crimes against the gender convention #genderqueer #lgbtq #nonbinary #queer #nb #enby #transmasc #transmaculine #bigender #multigender #labels #label #microlabels #trans positivity #trans experience

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nerdallwritey · 2 months ago

Note

For your end of year asks!! 🫶🏼❤️❤️ (Sorry, I pretty much asked every single one 🥲)

1, 3, 4, 6, 9, 11, 16, 18, 19, 20, 21, & 25!

LET'S GOOOOOOO!!! Omg THANK YOU.

Questions found here.

1. Song of the year?

GREAT question. I am absolutely dreadful at music, I typically find a few songs and then listen to them on repeat without branching out 😅 BUT! I think this year for me it's "The Ballad of Jane Doe" which is a song from the musical, "Ride the Cyclone." I listened to it a lot earlier in the year when I was dogsitting for a friend's boss and it was what I was really listening to when I started writing An Evening to Ourselves! Which kicked off my whole fic writing journey! I wouldn't say it has ANY similar vibes to my writing, but I listened to it so much around then that now it just reminds me of writing 🥰

3. Favorite musical artist / group you started listening to this year?

Hmm I think this one's pretty basic but Chappell Roan? My roommate has been a fan of hers for years but I really started listening to her once my sister started getting obsessed with her. My beta also got married this year and she said that her favorite part of her wedding was singing Chappell Roan on the dance floor with me and our dnd group! So yeah, probably Chappell!

4. Movie of the year?

Gotta go look to make sure but I THINK probably Wicked. I LOVE musicals, and Wicked is one of the first ones I ever listened to with some of my childhood friends growing up. We'd sing "Defying Gravity" in my best friend's bedroom and switch off who sang for who. I've seen it twice now and loved it both times!! I can't stop listening to "No One Mourns The Wicked" lol.

6. Episode of tv or webisode that defined the year for you?

This is super tough. The only thing I can really think of is the episode of Fantasy High: Junior Year where the Bad Kids take part in The Last Stand. Basically, Fantasy High is an actual play dnd show by Dimension 20 on Dropout and this year they aired their third season of this particular campaign. In the Last Stand episode, the party was taking a test to see if they pass Junior Year and it was just EVERYONE at the top of their games and playing so smart and funny and well. My roommate and I were like "this is our superbowl" 😂 I wouldn't say it DEFINED the year for me, but it definitely sticks out as one of the more memorable things I watched this year! Plus, I love playing dnd with my friends and seeing the performers from D20 perform around town :)

9. Best month for you this year?

I think I'll go with November! That was my birthday month, and I got to spend so much time with my friends. We went to Medieval Times and were put on the evil Green Knight's team and it was SO MUCH FUN!!! I also spent Thanksgiving with my roommate and her family which was a nice change that I absolutely adored. We had great food, decorated for Christmas, went to the movies, went shopping, and watched Finding Mr. Christmas on Hallmark. Which! Is a HILARIOUS show. They're trying to find the next male lead in a Hallmark movie. We made a bracket of who we think will win and everything. Just an overall fun time 🤩

11. Something you want to do again next year?

HMM........... Another tough question. Mostly because I have the memory of a goldfish and I have to try and remember what I've done this year lol. I'd honestly LOVE to go back to Medieval Times at some point and then go to the Pirate Adventure theater across the street this time! (There's another themed restaurant down the street that's pirate themed and I'm VERY interested in seeing a show there too). OH!!! And I want to keep writing. Idk if I'll get Part 7 of Beauty and the Bard out before the new year, but I'm SO excited to continue writing!!!

16. Post a picture from the beginning of the year

OOOOOH I like this one. Please hold. How about a face reveal? Here's me at the local Ren Faire back in April! Ignore whatever weird thing is happening with the angle of my foot, but this is my attempt at Birdie, my Tav, cosplay! Birdie started as my dnd self-insert character and so this is more of that version of her than her BG3 counterpart. It was really hard finding pics of stuff I did at the beginning of this year because for the most part, I was working from home so there were mostly pics of my cat. But Ren Faire is a blast! Highly recommend going to one at least once.

18. A memorable meal this year?

Not to sound like a broken record, but probably Medieval Times! You're supposed to eat with your hands but my bestie brought plastic silverware. You got chicken, potato, corn, garlic bread, tomato soup, and an eclair! It was really so much fun watching knights ride horses while eating a hearty meal 😂

19. What’re you excited about for next year?

I'm going to two weddings next year in Europe! One of my cousins is getting married in Italy in May, and another cousin is getting married in Ireland in October! I'm in sort of a weird place work wise, but hopefully I'll be able to get time off and attend both! I've already said yes to Italy which I'm really excited about! I'd love to go to Ireland too, but again, idk what the state of work will be at that time. We shall see!!

20. What’s something you learned this year?

Again, here's where my goldfish memory kicks me in the ass. I guess I'd say I learned that I can write pretty well! I kind of always knew that based on what and how I did in school, but it's nice to share my goofiness with people other than teachers, myself, and close friends! I was being really hard on myself because I'm trying to eventually become a screenwriter (someone who writes for TV) and I've been struggling to get there while my roommate (who I love and adore and support wholeheartedly!) has been getting some pretty cool accolades in the writing sphere. Point is, I was feeling kind of down about my abilities, but I learned that there's a wonderful and supportive group of people on Tumblr who want you to succeed! And I'm so happy to be a part of it <3

21. What’s something new about your place of residence (room, home, or general location) now vs the start of the year?

Omg SO glad you asked this one: My roommate and I just bought a HUMONGOUS couch for our apartment. Our previous couch was pretty cheap, in that it was foam and springs and we'd sat on it so much that the foam had begun to sag and we could feel all the springs. We got this new couch from a friend for pretty cheap BUT it took us FOREVER to get it into our apartment because of narrow halls and doorways that we forgot to measure. One piece of the couch had to be hoisted over our balcony (luckily we're only on the second floor but YIKES!)! In total it took 5 hours and LOTS of money to pay the movers lol. But DAMN if this new couch isn't the most comfortable thing in the world. We were honestly thinking of moving somewhere cheaper because our rent is SO expensive, but now we're like "well, guess we have to stay here forever since we can't get this couch back out!" 😂

25. Did you create any characters (in games, art, or writing) this year? Describe one.

I did!! Besides Reader in Beauty and the Bard, this year, my roommate ran a western themed dnd campaign and I played the Dumbest Warlock Ever. Her name is Zaddie Zipper (named purely because I thought it would be hilarious to have my friends unironically call me "Zaddie") and she was in a cult of this guy called Ol' Zupp. They're in the middle of the desert and yet everyone wears white robes, live in caves, and nobody talks - they all communicate telepathically, which gets Zaddie into trouble when she meets the rest of our adventuring party (she got punched in the face for saying "hi" to someone in their head 😂). Zaddie thinks she's a cleric to Zupp, but instead she's actually a Warlock who signed her soul away to him during her "Zupp-mitzvah!" She can't read so she names all her spells; Eldritch Blast is "Big Zap," Misty Step is "Poof!," Identify is "What's That?" etc etc. EVENTUALLY she gets her memories back, realizes she was KIDNAPPED, kills Zupp and becomes a Wizard. My DM told me NOTHING about Zaddie's actual past, so her getting her memories back was me actually learning about her life for the first time! I love her so much, she's so fun to play. We just did a great one-shot Christmas special and are hoping to keep playing season 2 of this campaign in the spring! This is the art I use of her, from Sarah Johnson on Pinterest!

Thank you SO MUCH for these questions Ali!!! This was so much fun and it was really fun to reflect on the year :) Hope you have a wonderful holiday season and a happy new year!!