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ilwonuu · 9 months ago

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𖥔 ͙ࣳ hate the club. k. mingyu

this fic is inspired by this song so pls listen to it <333

“tired of going out, scared ill run into you”

“damn you know i hate the club, but i came cuz i know you’d show up”

summary 𖡼 your friend group goes out every friday. you never feeling up to joining them. you always find an excuse not to come. but now you’re sitting at home with nothing to do. so why not drink a little and hangout with your friends at the club?? what could go wrong? seeing your ex could definitely happen..

warnings- ex to lovers!!, alcohol consumption, smut with semi plot. switch!mingyu, switch!reader, oral sex f.receiving, fingering, riding, pet names- baby,princess,unprotected sex(don’t do it), creampie, multiple orgasms, lmk if i missed anything pls<3

authors note- i read over this like once so if theres any spelling or grammar errors pls let me know!!! i hope u guys love this i loved writing it!!!!

you feel bored with no company tonight. not loving the presence of nothing of your apartment and stuff animals as you usually do. sending seungkwan a quick text telling him you’ll be joining him, seokmin, and chan tonight. getting a sassy text back as usual

kwannie😓- what the fuck. girl don’t play????

kwannie😓- u better not be lying because seokmin and chan are actually gonna be the death of me.

kwannie😓- be ready at 9 ok.

you- im not kidding hoe and yes i am already ready ish???

kwannie😓- ok ill be there at 9 😘😘😘

you smile to yourself continuing to get ready. checking to see if you have a good amount of time to finish your hair. happy to see you have enough time with it only being 8:15.

finishing everything you need to do finally making your way outside after getting a text from seungkwan saying that they have arrived. walking to his car somewhat nervous about what the night has in store for you. you never know you could meet someone? or see someone you absolutely hate.

getting into the car immediately being greeted by your best friends. “y/n!!!! i feel like im seeing a ghost you never fucking leave your house” chan says laughing causing you to send him a glare. “shush be happy im here for once okay”

“no seriously i thought my eyes were deceiving me when i read your text” seungkwan says quickly starting to head to the club they always go to. “ok guys thats enough let her live she doesn’t have to come out with us every time.” seokmin says giving you a slight smile.

“thank you seokmin. the only one who appreciates me” “okay but yes of course she doesn’t have to come out everytime. but she doesn’t come out anytimes!!! this is her first time in like 10 years” chan says laughing with seungkwan as he also finds chans joke hilarious. causing them both to receive a glare.

“very funny chan!!! i will get out of the car and walk back home.” you say looking at him threatening him playfully. “you’re dramatic” kwan says finally pulling into the parking lot of the club.

“im also very nervous to be here.” “if we see anyone we don’t like it’ll be fine y/n we don’t have to interact or anything” chan says knowing exactly who you were thinking of getting out of the car having the rest of you follow his lead into the club.

“yea you’re right..” you say slowly walking behind them into the loud crowd of people dancing. “ok first things first drinks!!!!” seungkwan yells dragging you all to the bar. chan seokmin order vodka shots happily, quickly running to dance in the crowd of people. “can we just get two shots of tequila each?” seungkwan asks for the both of you. smiling at the bartender when his drinks are set in front of you two. “okay lets drink these then lets dance!!!” seungkwan smiles at you quickly taking his shots now waiting for you to do the same.

you nervously take the shots making a grossed out face after downing it with a sip of water. seungkwan pulling you towards the crowd as soon as you were ready shortly finding seokmin and chan. “how do you guys get drunk so fast?” you laugh at seokmin and chan completely lost in the song dancing dramatically. “they are fucking lightweights” seungkwan says causing you both to laugh at them.

“i fucking wish. i only feel a little tipsy” you say scanning around the club with your eyes. “do you want to get more drinks or wait a bit then??” seungkwan asks while pulling you close to dance with him. “nah we can wait” you say over the loud music.

you are really trying to have a good time but this isnt really your thing. you were hoping that the drinks would losen your nerves up a little bit but you were so wrong. now you are dancing completely soberly with seungkwan. trying not to ruin your best friends night. “im gonna go to the bathroom real fast kwannie” you whisper to him before disappearing to find the bathroom. you quickly use the bathroom heading back over to the bar to get a couple more shots. “fuck why did i do this to myself” you say under your breath quickly downing the shots without water this time. feeling a little better making your way back into the crowd searching for any of the three boys you arrived with.

pushing through the crowd trying to find them. you accidentally push someone a little to hard quickly going to apologize. “i am s-so sorry.” you say realizing exactly who you bumped into having them turn and look down at you. “jesus you push fucking h-“ mingyu immediately freezes after seeing you. “fuck y/n? what are you doing here?”

“well this is a public place and a club so i would assume we’re here for the same reason.” you say sarcastically while trying to push past him. “well what are you doing by yourself?” he asks concerned stopping your movements. “where is seungkwan?” he looks around the club quickly scanning seeing if he sees anyone who looks like the boy. “well actually im not sure so if you’ll excuse me i will be continuing to look for my friends.” you say finally trying to push past him again.

“wait just let me help you look for them. it’s kinda depressing being here alone.” he says once again finally letting you push past him to continue looking. he follows behind you slowly. “so uh how have you been?” you scoff stopping to look at him. “are you serious right now? i really would rather not pretend to like you right now okay? just help me find seungkwan and then you can go back to whatever you were doing.”

you say sighing going back to looking for you friends. mingyu doesn’t say another word and just follows you quietly. “why don’t you call him?” he suggests. “i left my phone in seungkwans car like the bright fucking person i am.” you say getting more annoyed as the situation goes on.

“shit you wanna use my phone then? i still have his number from you know..” he says nervously handing you his phone after clicking on seungkwans contact. “y-yea thanks” you take his phone letting the memories wash over you. you patiently wait as the phone starts to ring and shortly someone picks up. “seungkwan??? where did you fucking go??” you are now getting more uncomfortable with the fact that you lost all of them in the span of 10 mins. “um what the fuck mingyu you sound like y/n also why the hell are you calling me?” seungkwan slurs over the phone questioning you. “seungkwan ur drunk. also this is fucking y/n im using mingyus phone dumbass!!” your voice sounding annoyed more now. “girl what? why are you using his phone? are you guys…? um back together?” he asks loud enough for both you and mingyu to hear.

you sigh looking at mingyus eyes go wide at what he just heard. “s-seungkwan can you just fucking tell me where you went? you know what fuck it im just gonna get an uber home okay im tired.” you say slightly tearing up at the stressful situation. “we just went to the bar upstairs y/n. are you sure you wanna leave already we’ve only been here for like an hour.”

seungkwan asks through the phone sensing that something is wrong. “do you want me to send seokmin with you? he said he will come with you.” he offers. “kwannie its fine ill just order it off mingyu’s phone. will you just drop off my phone tmr? i left it in your car.” you say finally after ending the call after hearing his okay.

“mingyu do you mind if i use your phone to order a uber?” you turn to mingyu hoping he will say yes. “yes of course y/n. but you don’t need to do that. cheol said he was here to pick up me and shua but im guessing shua is with some girl so cheol can just drop you off.” he says smiling at you. “okay um let me make sure i have my keys and fuck i don’t they are also in seungkwans car.” you say realizing as you feel your pockets. “wanna just stay at my place tonight?” he blurts out quickly. “mingyu- i- what?” now your confused, tired, and annoyed. “just come sleep at my place. its not that weird y/n. what’s the chance seungkwan is gonna come unlock his car rn? come on i’ll drop you off in the morning i swear.” “its not weird to you? we haven’t spoke in like a year.”

this was not a great idea. you and mingyu ended on somewhat bad terms. he wasn’t willing to commit to you. he ended up treated you like shit because of it. you know this has nothing to do with what he asked but it’s obviously on your mind. you are now confused, tired, annoyed, and overwhelmed.

“y/n i kinda need a answer now. cheol is outside.” he says snapping you out of your thoughts and back into reality. “u-uh okay yea lets go” you say immediately regretting it. mingyu smiles grabbing your hand making the way out of the club to cheols car. quickly getting into the back seat.

“whats up mingyu. hey y/n. y/n????? oh shit hi” he says now realizing that is is actually you. “hello cheol nice to see you” you say softly laughing. “yea you too. um are you guys back together?” he asks out of the blue. “nope!!” you quickly say hoping he doesn’t ask anymore questions. “just drive cheol.” mingyu says and mentally thank him because cheol didn’t ask anymore questions driving silently. you two make it to mingyu’s house after a 10 minute car drive. “ah fucking finally these heels are literally the worst” you say walking into his house kicking them off as you go. “you can borrow some clothes. i think i even have your old pjs in my room.” he says taking off his shoes as well. “im surprised you even still have those.” you say making your way to his room. the memories coming back as you seen his room looks the same way it did when you guys were together. you grab the pajamas making your way to his bathroom quickly changing heading back into his living room. “you want to take my bed? i can sleep out on the couch.” he says throwing a pillow and blanket onto the couch. “no mingyu its fine i can take the couch. you can have your bed.” you say laughing at him slightly going to sit on the couch. “or you can sleep in my bed with me.” mingyu says looking at you cautiously. now leaving you pressured at what he is offering right now. “mingyu. what are you doing? you know that isn’t a good idea. we aren’t together anymore.” you say laying down getting comfortable. “i know we aren’t. but fuck y/n have you not been thinking about us at all? or anything that we had. i miss it. i miss you.”

you look at him with a blank expression. what the fuck do you say? of course you think about him and your relationship. more than you should. “mingyu i do okay. i never stopped really but im not in the mood to get hurt again okay.” “i fucking promise you i will never treat you the same way i did okay?” he moves to sit next to you on the couch moving to grab your hands. “let me make it up to you? let me show you i can be there for you. i want to be the boyfriend you deserve. will you just give me a chance?” you think for a couple seconds.

he seems genuine. you did miss him a lot. a chance doesn’t hurt right? “okay mingyu. i will sleep with you in your bed okay. but i swear if you do anything like how you did before the break-“ he kisses you softly shutting you up. “i promise.” he says holding his pinky up

you wrap your pinky around his smiling as he lifts you and carries you to his room. softly throwing you onto his bed and climbing next to you. “you don’t know how much i missed you. i thought i was never gonna see you again.”

“yep that was the plan until i saw you at the club.” you state not wanting to lie to him. “well im so glad i saw you.” you smile at him. “can i make it up to you? ill make you feel so good y/n if you let me please.” hes already begging and you guys haven’t even done anything but a kiss.

he was always like this. he would immediately get needy after one small touch. mingyu was definitely a fucking switch. most of the time he loved being in control and seeing you beg for him. but everyone knew mingyu always leaned towards the subby side. he will listen to your requests always. if you’re happy he’s happy.

you nod softly at him watching him quickly shift between your legs pull down your shorts and underwear in one swift movement. kissing up your thighs slowly making your breath hitch under his touch. “fuck you’re so wet and i haven’t even touched you baby.” slowly moving his fingers up your slit inserting a finger in. his fingers immediately hit your g-spot causing you to already squirm until his firm touch.

“fuck you’re so tight. i can barely move my finger babe.” watching you closely as he inserts a second and third finger quickly watching as you get wetter from his touch. “g-gyu please more i need more.” you beg him hoping to add something extra to get you closer to your high.

“shh baby let me take my time i promise you’ll get everything you need okay?” he says sweetly pulling his fingers out of you with the noise of your squelch filling the room. “you hear yourself baby? you’re making a mess on my bed already hm?” he coos at you shifting so that his head is in between your legs. gently grabbing your thighs to spread your legs. “i bet you taste as sweet as i remember hm? could eat you for fucking days.” he immediately dives into eating your pussy. licking your slit as he slides one of his fingers back inside you.

“g-gyu oh my god.” eyes rolled back having your back arched as he absolutely devours you roughly sucking your clit fucking his finger into you quicker. looking up at you through his eyelashes not stopping his movements. not even to praise you. he is too pussy drunk and doesn’t want to stop anytime soon. grabbing a hold of his hair pulling on it when his finger hits that spot again making you go crazy. “m-mingyu i’m gonna cum please don’t stop.” and he doesn’t he sucks on your clit harder keeping up his pace with his finger. you come all over his tongue and his fingers. fucked out completely as you watch mingyu lick up your cum and hum.

“you taste so sweet princess. fucking delicious baby.” he smiles at you again moving up to kiss your lips. tasting yourself on his lips.

“what do you want baby? i will give you anything you want.” pulling his shirt over his head looking at you waiting for your answer. “can i ride you? g-gyu please i need you so bad.” he nods quickly. “m’course you can” he moves so he’s sitting up against the headboard of the bed. watching as you move onto his lap.

you have never seen mingyu take his pants off quicker. immediately pulling his dick out pulling your face closer to peck your lips. smiling into the kiss lining up his dick with your entrance slowly sinking down onto him.

mingyu is always more subby with this position immediately begging and pleading for your touch. “f-fuck y/n please move i need it so bad please baby.” he begs you trying not to fuck his hips into you.

you slowly rock your hips into his moaning at the feeling holding onto his shoulders for support. “you’re so tight im gonna cum so quick. i-i’m fuck i’m sorry” grabbing ahold of your hips to move you quicker on him. “i’m so close baby fuck.” he says feeling you bouncing on his dick now trying to chase your own high. “m-me too.” he groans lowly feeling his dick twitch inside of you. “f-fuck can i cum inside or where do you want it?” “inside p-please.” he doesn’t have to be told twice immediately cumming inside of you throwing his head back lost in the intense pleasure

you don’t stop bouncing on him. “babe i’m so sensitive fuck.” he says to you still fucked out holding onto you.

you nod. “i know baby but please you can last a little longer right? for me right? my good boy.” you try to turn him on with your words knowing it will go straight to his dick. he moans at your words pulling you into a quick kiss. “y-yes i’m so good for you.”

you smile at him quickening your movements now really needing his shoulder for support as you feel yourself coming. “f-fuckkk look at you c-creaming on my cock oh shit im gonna cum again.” you feel his cum shoot immediately into you. moaning at the feeling riding out both of your highs.

slowly climbing off of his lap laying next to him. “i missed you so fucking much.” he says pulling you under the covers with him kissing your forehead. “i missed you too but i don’t miss how you think i just want to lay here feeling your cum leak out of me.” you say playfully shifting to show him the puddle that is now under your crotch.

“its fine baby we can shower in the morning. plus what if we fuck again. you’ll just be full of my cum again.” he says with a straight face. you roll your eyes burying your face into his neck.

“i guess we’ll have to explain to seungkwan and cheol why we told them we weren’t back together…” you think out loud before falling asleep in your boyfriends arms.

#Spotify #mingyu #mingyu smut #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #mingyu x reader #mingyu fic #svt hard thoughts #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt smut #svt #svt fanfic

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hardly-an-escape · 8 months ago

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what's in a name? | Dream/Hob | 9300 words | rated E

this is my submission for @designtheendless's 3K commission giveaway: a Dreamling fic based on their fanart above!

tags: alternate universe - human, photographer Hob Gadling, artist Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, model Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, strangers to lovers, snowed in, only one bed, light dom/sub, oral sex, face fucking, anal fingering, anal sex, anonymous sex, Dream of the Endless is a horny little weasel, and Hob is no less of a horny little weasel, brief Princess Bride references, alcohol consumption, impulsive decision making, callous disregard for the geography of northern California, they go from 0-60 because they’re both nuts, neither of them are in a great place but they do make each other better rather than worse

Hob is on an ill-fated road trip through California. He’s making his way slowly down the coast toward Los Angeles when, trapped by a snowstorm in a small town near Mount Shasta, he meets a mysterious stranger in a diner. They share a night of anonymous passion – but when the sun rises, Hob finds that he can’t just leave the stranger behind…

this story developed partially from Picture Perfect, one of my Fluffbruary 2024 fills. I also incorporated some of designtheendless's other suggested image prompts, so do make sure you check their original post! and thank you so much for extending the deadline, it meant I had time to get my CHBB fic submitted before pivoting to finish this... and even so I'm still barely getting it done in time just because of who I am as a person :D

Hob leans forward over the steering wheel, brows furrowed as he peers through the driving snow at the street ahead. The windshield wipers are going like mad; he’s seen a plow or two out, but they seem to barely be making a dent, so traffic has slowed to a crawl. Which is, frankly, for the best, since the weather is bad enough that only a true nutter would be out in it at all.

Well… nobody’s ever accused Hob of being sane.

His GPS instructs him to take the next right and informs him that his destination will then be on his right. He can just make out the neon sign through the thick flakes: Townhouse Motel. “Vacancy,” it says below the old-timey script, blinking on and off. In the distance, the sun is just beginning to settle behind some mountains that he’s sure would be beautiful if they weren’t hidden behind such inclement weather.

He pulls in the driveway. The lot is nearly empty, so he parks right next to the office door and jams his winter cap on his head before hurrying through the flurries.

The bored teenager behind the front desk barely looks up from the reality show playing on her tablet as she runs Hob’s credit card and gives him his door key – an actual, physical key. Room 1389. He decides it’s not worth it to ask why the room number has four digits when the motel has maybe a dozen rooms total.

He does ask if there’s somewhere nearby to get a bite to eat and a drink.

“There’s a diner across the street and down a block,” the teenager says, “but they don’t serve booze.” Then, finally looking up, perhaps seeing the bags under his eyes and his generally downtrodden demeanor, she relents. “There’s a liquor store about two blocks past that. You can bring stuff back to your room, I guess. It’s not like anybody is going to ask questions around here.”

That, Hob thinks as he heads back outside and moves his rental car a little closer to his door, is obvious. There’s a general air of neglect clinging to the motel, and indeed to the whole street, from what he can see: the buildings are a little more weatherbeaten than can be plausibly explained by a cute vintage aesthetic, and at least one storefront seems to be permanently boarded up. The recession has clearly hit Northern California just as hard as it has the rest of the United States.

What a time to be playing tourist. What a time to be – well, he won’t think about that right now.

His room is clean, at least. Someone, at some point in time, has made a half-hearted attempt to decorate it with a seaside theme. The bedlinens are various shades of blue, rather than your typical beigey-white. There’s an unfortunate painting of a mermaid hanging over the outdated television, and a slightly less unfortunate painting of a lighthouse above the bed. The bathroom wallpaper has little seashells on it.

Hob leaves his camera bag on the desk and his duffel on the end of the bed, grabs his wallet, turns his collar up against the cold, and heads back out into the snowy evening.

The diner is, as promised, only a short walk down the street, but Hob is shivering by the time he gets there. The wind cuts right through him – silly British man that he is, he thought California would be warm, even in winter. He hadn’t really reckoned with unpredictable mountain weather, or with the cold front that was chasing him down through the southern end of the Cascades. The weatherman on the radio had been calling it “freakish.”

A little bell tinkles merrily when he pushes open the door. A waitress calls out a greeting, tells him to sit wherever he likes and she’ll be right with him. There’s only one other person in the diner, a slender man dressed all in black who is hunched over a cup of coffee at the counter. He glances up and immediately back down as Hob stomps the snow off his boots and takes an empty booth far enough away from the front door that he won’t feel the rush of cold air if anyone else comes in.

The waitress bustles over, bringing him a cup of coffee without even asking. Hob wraps his fingers around it gratefully. He doesn’t normally drink coffee this late, but it’s been the kind of day that calls for it: so cold, so uncomfortable and distressing, that the sturdy ceramic mug is exactly what he wants. The bitter note of slightly burnt coffee is tempered by the cheap, artificially flavored vanilla creamer he only ever uses at this kind of greasy spoon diner. He breathes deep and feels something inside him start to thaw.

When the waitress comes back with a menu, he warms up even more. She is middle-aged and comfortable, nice and no-nonsense, the sort of person with an indeterminate American accent who could have come from anywhere: Illinois, or Florida, or five minutes down the road. She recommends the olive burger with fries, and a side of fried pickles, because they’re the best in the county, and then her excitement simply bubbles over.

“I’m just so darn tickled to have two Brits here in the same night!” she enthuses. “Oh gosh, is that okay? Can I call you Brits or is that rude?”

“No, no, it’s fine!” Hob laughs. “Two of us, eh? That is a coincidence.”

“I know, right? Okay hon, lemme just get your order in and I’ll be back to warm up your coffee in a sec.”

She bustles away again, and Hob looks curiously at the man at the counter. He must have heard her comment, but he hasn’t turned around, or indeed acknowledged Hob in any way since he came in. He shrugs mentally and turns away to look out the window at the thickly swirling snow. It’s dark enough now that streetlights have come on, casting cones of light in which the flakes dance like a very slow sodium-tinted tornado.

He wishes he had a book. Or a crossword puzzle, or one of those packets of crayons they give to kids at restaurants. Something to keep his hands occupied and his mind off of everything that was threatening to consume it, off of the last few days, off of her –

Then the man from the counter slides into the booth across from him.

“Hello,” Hob says.

“Hello,�� the stranger says. His voice is surprisingly deep and resonant, coming from his slim frame, and he looks to be in his late twenties, perhaps a few years younger than Hob. He is very pale. His dark hair is sticking up rather wildly and his eyes are a cold, clear blue that reminds Hob of the way the sky had looked this morning, before the clouds had descended.

“Who are you, then? Aside from a fellow Brit?” asks Hob.

“No one of consequence.” He’s lugging around a small backpack, which now rests on the bench beside him.

“I must know,” Hob says in a very bad Inigo Montoya accent.

“Get used to disappointment,” the stranger says with a smirk, and Hob laughs.

“Oh, we’re going to get along just fine,” he says, holding his hand out across the table. “My name’s Hob, yes that’s my real name, and yes, it is a long story.”

The stranger shakes his hand briefly. His palm is warm from cupping his coffee cup, but the tips of his fingers are cold. “Pleased to meet you, Hob.”

“And do you have a name, stranger?”

“I do. Several, in fact.”

“Any of them for public consumption?”

The stranger shrugs. “Will you forgive me if I maintain a certain level of mystery?”

Hob shrugs too. “That’s your lookout, mate. No skin off my nose.”

They chat. About the weather, and how odd it is, and how different to England. About books – the stranger appears to be a voracious reader, and Hob had loaded up an old iPod with audiobooks in preparation for a lot of driving, which sparks a lively debate on the merits of printed books vs reading aloud. In the midst of this, Hob’s food arrives, and he is derailed momentarily from the conversation by an overwhelming need to unhinge his jaw and stuff as many chips into his gob as humanly possible. The stranger watches in amusement.

“Hungry?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Hob says, muffled by his burger. “Been driving pretty much all day and I didn’t really want to stop, so…”

He’s suddenly self-conscious, very aware that the man sitting across from him is slender and willowy and dressed all in black, and that he himself is very much… not that. Dressed for comfort and warmth in slightly baggy jeans and a flannel shirt and his puffy jacket balled up on the bench beside him. But the stranger seems unbothered, simply smiling slightly and snagging a fried pickle off the plate between them, which Hob had invited him to share moments after it had arrived.

They are good; crispy and salty and uniquely American. Hob is certainly prepared to believe they’re the best in the county.

“So are you staying here in town, or is that shrouded in mystery as well?” he asks, once he’s slowed down a bit.

“I’ve been staying in a cabin up the mountain, a little way out of town. With my family.” He said the word family as though it is faintly dirty. “One of my siblings thought it would be good for us to get away together. But I have found it… trying.”

“Up the mountain, eh? Are you going to be able to get back in this?”

Hob tips his head toward the window. It is very dark now, and the snow is falling more thickly and wildly than ever. A crease appears between the stranger’s eyebrows.

“To be honest, I had not thought that far ahead.”

“Do you have much experience driving in the snow?”

To Hob’s surprise, the stranger actually blushes, just a gentle stain of pink across his cheekbones. “I… walked.”

“You walked?”

The waitress, stopping by the table to warm up their coffees, echos Hob’s surprise.

“Oh, honey,” she says. “In this? How are you fixing to get home?”

“I was planning to walk back,” the stranger says with some asperity. “But I admit I was not anticipating this kind of weather.”

“Let me check on the roads for you,” the waitress says kindly. “Which cabin did you say you’re at? My brother-in-law lives up that way, I’ll give him a call. I’m sure we can find you a ride.”

She goes back behind the counter and picks up the phone.

“I’m happy to give you a ride,” Hob says quietly. “If she thinks it’s safe.”

“You do not have to do that.”

“‘S okay. I want to.”

“Bill? It’s Jan. I have a question for you,” says the waitress.

Hob realizes, suddenly and with some surprise, that it is quite true, that he is not just being polite: he does want to help this mysterious stranger, who talks like a 19th-century Byronic hero and dresses like a college goth. His stomach is doing the tiniest little swoop every time they make eye contact, and he doesn’t want it to stop.

The waitress calls over to him.

“You got four wheel drive, hon?”

Hob thinks about the little Honda Civic in the motel parking lot. Thinks about mountain roads and snow. Shakes his head no.

Scraps of the waitress’s conversation float across the diner and Hob takes another bite of his burger.

“– well they’re foreign, Bill, they don’t –”

He snickers just a little; can’t help himself, really, because the waitress is just so kind and helpful and also clearly more than a little bit befuddled by their presence in her diner. These two Brits, total strangers, so unalike one another – and yet here they are, sharing a booth and a plate of fried pickles, five thousand miles and change away from home. He exchanges a look of camaraderie with the stranger and eats some more chips. They’re good too.

“– and tomorrow? What’s the overnight –”

After another minute or two the waitress thanks her brother-in-law and hangs up the phone. Her face is serious when she comes back to their table.

“Well, boys,” she says, “I don’t think anyone is going anywhere tonight. Bill says it’s pretty bad up there, and only getting worse. The plows aren’t even going out yet on account of the snow’s still coming down so hard, it doesn’t make sense to try and clear anything. You going to be able to find a place to stay?” she asks the stranger.

He looks at Hob. “Did you mention a motel?”

“Yeah, the Townhouse?” Hob says, and the waitress nods along. “I don’t know for sure if there are rooms available, but it didn’t look like the parking was full.”

“Probably not, this time of year,” interjects the waitress. “It’s a fine place, and Paulie can certainly use the business. I’ll bring your checks by in a minute, guys.”

She leaves them again. Her sensible sneakers squeak against the floor tiles as she walks.

“Thank you again for your offer of a ride,” the stranger says quietly. “That was very kind of you.”

“Course. I’m just sorry you won’t be able to get home tonight,” Hob says.

“It is my own fault. I should not have behaved so impulsively. But my siblings…” The man frowns. “As I said, they can be difficult. I would have done something regrettable, had I remained in the house.”

Hob waves a hand. “Ah, it happens to the best of us. Especially around family. You should hear some of the fights I’ve had with my sister, we can scream the paint off the walls when we get going.”

“Indeed,” the man says darkly.

“I’m glad you did come to town, though. It’s been kind of nice,” Hob says tentatively. “Having someone to talk to tonight.”

“Indeed,” his stranger repeats. But this time one corner of his mouth lifts in a tiny smile. “It seems to have worked out in my favor.”

Hob smiles back. “So, are you really not going to tell me your name?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Fun, eh?” Hob glances down at his own hands, folded on the table, back at the stranger. “Is that what this is?”

The stranger smirks. He leans forward and plucks another fried pickle from the plate. He opens his mouth, sticking out his tongue just a little bit farther than necessary to pop the slice into his mouth. He chews, and smirks some more, and gives Hob an unmistakable up-and-down appraising glance, and underneath the table he presses one ankle against Hob’s instep.

Oh. Hob feels a surprising but not unfamiliar spike of arousal in his gut. So that’s where this is heading – has been heading, since he pushed open the door and the stranger had glanced up at him. Had he blushed, when his eyes met Hob’s? Or is he applying more detail to that brief interaction after the fact, now that he thinks he knows what his stranger is thinking?

And when had the man become his stranger?

“I see,” he says, and presses back against the bony ankle under the table.

Ten minutes later, they’ve settled their bills – his stranger had apparently eaten a club sandwich before Hob had arrived, and he’s weirdly relieved that the man has consumed something more substantial than coffee this evening – and are gearing up to head back into the cold. Hob is zipping up his coat when he realizes the other man appears to have only a thick black hoodie and a knit beanie (also black, of course). He glances out the window, where it’s still snowing pretty hard, and raises an eyebrow.

“You going to be okay in just that?”

“You said it is only a couple of blocks? I will be fine. I tend not to feel the cold. And,” he adds defensively, “when I originally walked down the weather was not quite so… inclement.”

“If you say so,” Hob says as he opens the door. The waitress calls out a good night and he waves to her over his stranger’s shoulder. Wonders, just for a moment, what she thinks of the fact that they’re leaving together, or if she will ever think of them again at all. They step out into the snowy evening. “The girl at the motel said there’s a liquor store down the street. Mind detouring there? I was thinking of picking up some whiskey, or something. Something to keep a man warm.”

The man chuckles and they head down the street. It’s not until they’re away from the diner windows that he takes Hob by the elbow and gently draws him just outside the circle of a street lamp.

“Surely,” he says, voice low, stepping into Hob’s space, “there are many ways for a man to… keep warm.”

And he kisses him.

His lips are warm and dry, a little chapped. It’s a simple kiss, a chaste one, just their lips touching and the barest pressure of the stranger’s belly and chest pressed against Hob’s, swathed in layers of winter gear. It lasts for a heartbeat, two, and then the man steps back with a hum of satisfaction.

“Oh?” says Hob, giddily. “It’s like that, is it?”

“Obviously,” responds his stranger.

“Well, I don’t know, mate,” says Hob as they make their way down the street. He resists the urge to link their arms together. “Maybe you play footsie with every guy you meet in random diners in Northern California.”

“Perhaps.”

The liquor store is a brief respite from the wind and the snow. Hob selects a mid-range bottle of whiskey and they trudge back to his motel room. The snowflakes and the streetlights and the swirling wind make everything feel more than a little bit surreal, like something out of a dream or a fairy tale. The two of them could be adventurers, explorers, wading through an arctic wasteland in search of shelter. The mountain looms behind them, dark and mysterious, like a great castle or some monstrous beast.

“Do you mind if I take a shower?” asks his stranger, kicking off his boots dropping his backpack by the desk. “I’m afraid I did get rather sweaty, hiking down earlier. I wouldn’t mind cleaning up.” His gaze, beneath his long eyelashes, feels heavy and significant.

“Go right ahead.” Hob gestures toward the bathroom. “I’m just going to nip down to the lobby and get a bit of ice.” He retrieves the ice bucket from the desk, brushing close to his stranger as he does. The brief contact jolts him back to the real world. They’re not in the arctic waste; this handsome, ethereal man is here, in his motel room. He is pulling off his somewhat sodden hoodie and draping it over the back of the chair, and sniffing dubiously at the sweater he wears underneath it. He is real.

Hob waits until he hears the shower turn on to slip out the door.

Although he has his moments of cluelessness, Hob is not a stupid man. He knows where this is going. He recognizes the signs, the coy little dance they’ve been doing around each other for the past two hours, and no, he’s not a stupid man, but if he were a better one he might be able to resist the temptation of falling into bed with a beautiful stranger who won’t even share his name.

But there’s something about this man. Hob wants him. Already can’t resist him. Wants to wrap him up and keep him warm and kiss his collarbones and, yes, wants to fuck him, wants to feel him shudder and moan and wants to watch his cheeks flush and his head fall back in ecstasy. He hasn’t felt like this for a long, long time, and now it’s come out of nowhere to slam into him and hook into his gut, this wanting.

He throws a few scoops of ice from the machine in the motel lobby into the bucket and goes back to the room.

He’s kicked off his boots, unwrapped one of the shitty plastic cups, and poured himself a couple fingers of whiskey by the time he hears the shower shut off. There’s the usual shuffling noise of towels, a brief blast of the cheap hair dryer mounted to the wall. Then the door opens and the stranger emerges, and Hob is slammed from the real world right back into a surreal dream.

The man is even more beautiful without his clothes on: Hob would compare him to an elf or a fairy prince, but he’s too busy choking slightly on the spit that’s suddenly flooding his mouth at the sight of long, slim limbs, a narrow waist, and a temptingly well-defined Adonis belt that disappears under the cheap motel towel wound around his hips.

There’s a long moment of silent eye contact. Hob’s leaning up against the desk, cup cradled in one hand. His face heats as he watches his stranger’s eyes travel slowly down the length of his body and back up, pursing his lips slightly. His mouth is very pink, with the kind of full bottom lip that’s made for nibbling on, and the rest of his skin is as pale and smooth as… well, as snow, with just a touch of redness from the heat of the shower spreading across his chest.

Hob downs half of his whiskey without even thinking about it. He can’t look away. He can’t think, can’t even blink. He’s afraid that if he does, this vision will disappear and it’ll just be him, alone, a saddish man alone in a motel room with a bottle of booze and a bag of expensive camera equipment, and then who knows what will happen?

His stranger gives him one of those tiny half-smiles, suggestive, not quite a leer, and stalks across the room toward him.

He widens his legs and his stranger steps in to stand between his feet. He takes Hob’s drink out of his hand and tosses back the last swallow of whiskey before setting the plastic cup aside. Then he hooks one finger into the collar of Hob’s flannel shirt and pulls him into a kiss. His mouth is a study in contrasts: warm from the whiskey and cool from the ice, soft tongue and sharp teeth. They sink briefly, gently, into Hob’s bottom lip, and Hob pulls the man close against his chest and returns the favor.

The kiss is turning wet and messy when the man pulls back far enough to start fumbling with Hob’s shirt buttons. He’s pulled the tails of the shirt out of Hob’s jeans and has it about halfway unbuttoned when a phone starts ringing.

It’s not the room phone – it’s coming from a pocket of the man’s backpack.

“Ignore it,” he mumbles into Hob’s neck. “We are busy.”

The phone rings three times; four times. The stranger has finished with Hob’s shirt and is pulling the tee beneath it out of the waistband of his jeans by the time it finally stops.

His fingers are toying with Hob’s belt buckle and ghosting over the seam of his fly when it rings again.

The stranger groans audibly.

“Do you think,” Hob says with the carefully deliberate cadence of the very turned on, “that your family might be worried about you?”

“I do not care,” his stranger grumbles, and sinks gracefully to his knees.

Eventually the phone stops ringing again.

He’s worked Hob’s belt and fly open and is nuzzling into the opening of his jeans, nosing at the base of Hob’s cock through his underwear and Hob is panting, his stranger’s hot breath so close to where Hob wants him most – when the phone rings a third time.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” snarls the stranger, and stands.

He fishes a slightly battered-looking BlackBerry out of an outside pocket of his backpack and stabs at the call answer button.

“What.”

He turns away, so all Hob can see is the furious, stiff line of his stranger’s back. He can’t hear the other half of the conversation, and he doesn’t think he wants to; every fibre of the man’s body radiates anger and discomfort and perhaps a little bit of shame. Hob adjusts himself discreetly, rezips his jeans, and tiptoes over to sit down on the edge of the bed.

“Obviously I am alive. I am fine.” A pause. “I took a walk.” Another pause. “Yes. Yes, I know what time it is. No, I am assured that the roads were too bad to make it back to the cabin. I am in a motel room in…” He looks over to Hob. “What is the name of this place?”

Hob supplies the name of the motel, and that of the town as well, just for good measure. The man relays the information into the phone. There is another long pause.

“That is none of your business. Shut up. You have no idea what you’re talking about. And if you speak to me like that again I will hang up the phone.”

There is another, longer pause, during which the stranger’s face grows progressively redder. He is very deliberately not looking at Hob.

“No. I said no. I will arrange for my own transportation in the morning. I –”

The person on the other end of the phone must say something truly outrageous, because his strangers eyes bug out in a way that looks almost uncomfortable.

“Do the entirety of the known universe a favor and crawl back into whatever slime hole you emerged from and leave me alone,” he hisses. “Goodbye.”

Hob can’t quite muffle a snort at this crowning line. Siblings.

His stranger hangs up the phone with a vicious jab of a button and slams it down on the desk; then seems to reconsider, retrieves it, and shuts it off entirely before throwing it into his backpack. He sighs, a surprisingly tired sound.

“I will have another drink, if you don’t mind,” he says. “And then I would like it very much if you would fuck me. Please.”

Hob’s cock, which had been feeling distinctly neglected, gives a twitch.

“I think that can be arranged,” he says. “Are you –”

The stranger waves a dismissive hand. “I am quite sober enough to have sex with you. And I could easily afford my own room, if that’s a concern. I am here because I want to be.”

“Glad to hear it, but that actually isn’t what I was going to ask,” Hob says mildly.

“Oh,” the man says. A faint blush rises on his cheekbones. He scoops up the whiskey bottle and uncorks it, taking an unceremonious swig. The towel hangs dangerously low around his hips. “What were you going to ask?”

His stranger pauses with the whiskey bottle against his lips. Hob watches the long line of his neck work once, twice, as he swallows, and figures he may as well put his cards on the table.

“I was going to ask if latex condoms are okay. For when I fuck you into the mattress in a minute here.”

The man clears his throat. “Oh,” he says again. “Yes. Latex is fine.”

“Good. Anything you don’t like? Hard boundaries?”

He pauses. “I do not enjoy being choked. Or having my hands restrained in any way. But I like… I like it a little bit rough. It feels good. To be used.”

Hob leans back on one elbow. “Is that what you want me to do? Use you?”

“Yes.”

The word drops into the quiet room like a handful of snow might drop off a tree branch – soft and muffled and sending the same delicious shiver down Hob’s spine.

“I can do that.” Oh, yes. Hob can use this beautiful man, if he is offering himself up to be used. “C’mere, then.”

His stranger walks slowly across the room to where Hob is half-reclining on the bed, feet still planted on the floor. He kneels between Hob’s legs and runs his hands slowly up and down his thighs from knee to hip. “And you?” he asks. “Your boundaries?”

Hob considers. “I’m with you on choking, not a fan,” he says. “I’m not big on pain, generally, but I can give it to other people, if they need it.”

“Alright.” His hands are still rubbing up and down Hob’s thighs, a slow, hypnotizing rhythm. When he speaks again his voice is thick. “Would you consider the preliminary negotiations to be concluded now?”

“Don’t you have anything better to do with your mouth than spout off like a horny nineteenth century robber baron?” Hob counters.

His stranger smiles, a proper smile that crinkles the corners of his blue eyes, and unzips the fly of Hob’s jeans.

In short order he’s pulled them open and pushed Hob’s boxers down just enough that he can get his cock out. He’s not quite hard, not yet, but he gets there quickly between his stranger’s gentle, surprisingly soft hands and the way he immediately buries his nose in Hob’s pubic hair and breathes deeply as he looks up through his eyelashes.

Then he opens his mouth, and wraps his tongue around the head of Hob’s cock, and Hob’s brain makes a noise like radio static.

Oh, he is good at this. Unfairly good. Supernaturally good. He teases Hob for long, long minutes, working up and down his shaft with light touches of just his lips and tongue, ducking down now and then to mouth gently at his balls, until Hob is twitching and swearing and straining, perched on the edge of the bed. When he finally has mercy and takes Hob’s cock fully into his mouth, it is barely a relief. He is so wet, so hot, and he sinks down on Hob with no resistance, no trace of a gag reflex. Before he can stop himself, Hob’s hips jerk forward that final fraction, and suddenly his stranger’s nose is brushing his pubic bone and his throat is contracting around the head of Hob’s cock.

He’s expecting the man to pull back, to splutter in indignation, but instead he makes an encouraging noise and squeezes Hob’s thigh before folding his hands almost primly in his lap.

“Fuck,” Hob mutters. He makes an experimental shallow thrust into the tight, wet heat of his stranger’s mouth. “Really?”

His stranger can’t nod, not with Hob’s prick in his mouth, but he moans. Hob feels it vibrate all along the length of his shaft and has to stifle a whimper of his own. He sinks one hand into the soft riot of the man’s hair, still a little damp from the shower, and cradles the back of his skull. The bone feels sweet and finely formed in his hand.

“You want me to fuck your pretty face?” he asks, soft and just a tiny bit mean. “Yeah? That’s what your mouth is good for, isn’t it?”

He thrusts again, in and out, and the stranger’s eyes roll back a little in his head, so he does it again, and again. Soon he really is fucking his face, not too hard but deep, fingers tightening in his stranger’s hair as his eyes fall nearly shut, narrowing to crystalline blue crescents.

Hob pulls back briefly to let his stranger breathe. Runs his thumb along his bottom lip, dripping with spit, before he pushes back in. He doesn’t stop until he can feel the first tendrils of orgasm beckoning to him; but as tempting as it is to keep going, to empty himself into this perfect mouth, he’s made a promise. And Hob is a man of his word, so he pulls the man off his cock by the scruff of his neck. He makes an obscene noise as he goes, and another thing string of saliva dribbles from his puffy mouth. His eyes are slightly glassy as he looks up at Hob.

“Get up on the bed, baby,” Hob orders gently.

When the man stands up the towel is just barely clinging to his narrow hips, and his erection is stiff and straining against the terrycloth. He’s so hard, Hob thinks wonderingly, just from having Hob’s cock in his mouth for a few minutes, and his own prick throbs in sympathy.

“Hands and knees,” Hob says, and the man crawls up on the bed. The towel falls away as he goes, languid but obedient, so that he’s entirely naked when Hob positions himself behind him. The contrast between Hob’s clothes and the other man’s nudity is delicious – Hob’s rough denim against the man’s soft thighs, Hob’s hairy wrists poking out from worn flannel as he runs his fingernails along sharply elegant shoulder blades.

He allows himself one long, gentle caress, from the nape of his stranger’s neck down to the shallow dimples in the small of his back, before he grabs at the man’s buttocks and unceremoniously spreads him open.

His hole looks surprisingly loose and relaxed already. Hob runs the pad of one thumb over it.

“Were you prepping yourself in the shower?” he asks, delighted. He presses gently and the furl of muscle gives, just a little, pink and fluttering.

“Hng,” says his stranger, shuddering. “Yes. I thought – I thought about your hands. Oh. I liked the thought that you were just outside the door. While I had my fingers inside myself.”

“Impatient little minx,” Hob says fondly. He kisses one of the lovely knobs of his stranger’s spine and pinches his backside for good measure before pulling away. “Stay here.”

He has to dig down to the bottom of his duffel bag in order to find the box of condoms and the little travel sized bottle of lube. He’d felt a little self-conscious when he’d packed them back in his flat in London – like he was presuming something – but then again he had been preparing for a supposedly romantic road trip with his girlfriend.

He’s glad, now, that he has them.

His stranger has remained on his knees, pitched forward to rest on his elbows, face pressed into a pillow and cock hanging heavy between his legs.

“Good boy,” Hob praises, and runs his hand along the man’s flank. “Beautiful. Oh, darling, I’m going to make you feel so good. And then you’re going to make me feel so good, aren’t you? You already have,” Hob coos, drizzling lube directly onto his arsehole. “And I know you’re going to keep being a good boy for me, aren’t you?”

Before the man can answer, Hob slips a finger inside him, right up to the first knuckle. He’s rewarded with a whimper and the feeling of his stranger pushing back against him, silently begging for more.

And then not so silently. “More,” moans the stranger. “Fuck. More, please.”

Hob strokes his finger in and out, petting the velvet inside his stranger.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “You’ll get more.”

He tries to spend as much time torturing his stranger with his fingers as his stranger had spent torturing him with his mouth, but by the second finger he finds his resolve dissolving like so many snowflakes on warm skin. The man is making such wanton sounds, and his knees skid wider and wider on the slippery motel bedspread, opening him inexorably to Hob’s hungry eyes and questing hands.

“Oh. Oh,” he says. “Oh, yes, fuck,” he moans. No more well-crafted phrases or erudite words; the only thing dropping from that perfect mouth are noises, guttural and breathy by turns, only half-muffled by the pillow his face is smashed into.

“Please,” he begs, “please, in me, I – please, I need –”

Hob obliges.

He’s pretty sure he’s never been harder in his life as he shoves his jeans down around his thighs and rolls the condom on. He has to do it one-handed, clumsily, because some frantic corner of his brain is convinced that if he lets go of the stranger’s hip then the man will disappear, between one blink and the next, and this whole night will turn out to have been some snowblind fever dream.

But his stranger stays where Hob has put him, desperate and writhing, begging for Hob’s cock, and when he finally pins the man down to the mattress and pushes into him, that first hard thrust is enough to silence both of them.

The room is utterly still for a heartbeat, and then another, and then one more, until Hob pulls out in order to thrust in again and his stranger wails and then Hob is fucking into him in earnest, fucking him hard, until the sound of their skin slapping together almost drowns out the sounds his stranger is making beneath him.

Almost.

His stranger moans and pants, and Hob answers him, thrust for thrust and moan for moan, Yes and Ah and Christ and Fuck, fuck me, use me, yes. He grips his stranger by the hips, so hard that his fingers leave little white divots behind when he shifts his grip, so hard that he worries he might leave bruises, and still the man pushes back against him and begs for more.

He comes, when he finally comes, untouched, rutting gracelessly against the mattress. Hob stills, grits his teeth, not wanting to overwhelm the other man as he seizes in pleasure, but his stranger continues to move against him, if anything even more desperate, even in the throes of orgasm.

“Don’t stop,” he gasps, “don’t, oh God, fuck me through it, don’t stop –”

So Hob hauls him up and pushes him down, one hand on his waist and one shoving his chest down into the mattress as the man’s hands scrabble at the sheets and he sobs and Hob pistons into him until he empties himself, until his prick is oversensitive and his stranger is twitching around and beneath him, and the room is finally quiet.

Then Hob takes the condom off, knots it and tosses it towards the wastebasket. He rolls them both away from the wet spot with only middling success, but he’s too tired to care. He shucks the rest of his clothes off. He is boneless and spent, and his stranger is inserting himself relentlessly into Hob’s personal space. They lie there for a long, long moment, sweaty and panting, until their breathing starts to even out and the desperate closeness has receded into normal cuddling. Hob presses a kiss to his stranger’s sweaty temple and marvels at his luck.

“I realize I neglected to ask you why you find yourself in Northern California,” his stranger says, tucked against Hob’s side, voice drowsy and hoarse. “Do you care to share?”

“It’s a long story,” Hob says. “I was – well, I am – on a road trip. With my, ah. With my girlfriend. Well. Ex-girlfriend, now. Actually.”

His stranger tenses slightly, and Hob doesn’t blame him; he knows how it must sound. “It sounds like there is a story there?” the man says, almost tentative.

“Yeah, we… we came over together, about two weeks ago. We flew into Seattle, were planning this whole big trip, right down the coast and all the way to Los Angeles. See the redwoods, do some wine tastings, the whole bit. I’m a photographer, I was thinking I could turn the whole trip into a photo essay, maybe even a book.” He sighs. “Then she heard about this yoga retreat, ashram sort of place. Bit culty, I don’t really go in for all that, but she absolutely had to check it out, so we did. Two days later, out of the blue, she tells me our chakras are misaligned and gives me the boot. Turns out Guru Todd Thingummy, who ran the retreat center, was very aligned with her chakras. As well as other, less… metaphysical things.”

There’s a sound from the vicinity of Hob’s armpit that he realizes with delight is a snort. The snort blossoms into a chuckle, and then his stranger is laughing, a frankly horrible honking sort of laugh, shaking in Hob’s arms with it, and Hob laughs along.

“I’m sorry,” his stranger gasps. “I shouldn’t – I shouldn’t laugh at you. It’s just… Guru Todd.”

“I know!” Hob snickers. “You can picture him, right? White boy dreadlocks and a fucking… shell necklace. Utter tosser.”

“I feel like I’ve probably met someone almost exactly like him, truly.” Eventually his stranger’s horrible laugh subsides. He shifts against Hob, playing idly with his chest hair, curling it around one finger. “In a way, I am also escaping a recent ex. She was the first person I dated after some… difficult experiences I had about a year ago. But in the end I was far more invested in the relationship than she, and she became. Uncomfortable. With my ardor.”

“She’s a bloody idiot then,” Hob says automatically, and his stranger looks up, startled.

“Do you think so?”

Hob briefly considers backpedaling. Don’t come off like a madman, he thinks to himself. Not when he’s finally talking to you. But there’s no hope for him. “Well, yeah. I mean, I’d say your ardor is my favorite thing about you so far.” He lets one hand drift down and gives his stranger’s arse a cheeky squeeze, and is rewarded with a squeak and another snort.

“You are kind to say so,” the man says, and interrupts himself with a yawn.

“It’s true. I… I’m really glad I met you,” Hob says honestly. Too honestly. He can’t help himself; the man is just so beautiful, mouth kissed red and limbs loose, fucked out and soft everywhere he’d been hard and prickly before.

Hob still doesn’t know his name.

“I’m glad I met you, too,” the man says softly.

Hob snuggles them both down into the lumpy motel pillows and pulls the blanket up firmly around their shoulders. The wind blows outside, he reaches up to switch off the lamp, and they fall asleep.

He wakes in the night and stumbles to the bathroom to take a piss. When he comes back, his stranger has starfished out and is taking up a full two-thirds of the bed, sleeping like a stone. Hob manages to reinsert himself into the remaining third and then simply lies there for a long few minutes, looking at the other man.

The skies must have cleared, at least a little, because there’s a few strips of moonlight filtering through the blinds. The pale light turns his stranger into marble, a work of art; he practically glows against the blue sheets. Hob’s fingers itch for his camera.

“You’re going to fuck me up,” he whispers. “I’m going to wake up next to you and never want to leave, and it’s going to fuck me up so bad.”

The sleeping man does not respond, of course; doesn’t even stir. Hob lies there, and gazes at him, until he slips back into sleep himself.

When he wakes again it’s fully morning. The sun is that peculiar thin shade of blue that you get on very cold mornings, but when Hob peeks out the window, the sky is clear and the snowplows have clearly been out making the rounds. He tries to tamp down a sudden feeling of disappointment.

He gets a drink of water, and when he returns to bed his stranger is stirring. First one blue eye opens, then the other.

“Morning,” Hob says.

The man hums and stretches luxuriously, rolling from his belly to his back. The sheets fall down around his hips, revealing one elegant hipbone and a tempting glimpse of dark curls. His pale skin practically glows against the blue sheets in the morning light.

“Enjoying the view?” his stranger asks, and his voice is rough with sleep and slightly hoarse.

“You could say that,” Hob says. He puts one knee on the bed, reaches out to run a hand lightly down the long, lean line of the man’s thigh. “God, you’re… you are so beautiful.”

“Come here to me,” the man says, beckoning to Hob.

Hob ducks his head and kisses up the ladder of the man’s ribs, takes one pert nipple gently between his teeth.

“Can I take your picture?” he says suddenly. “Not in a creepy way. I can even keep your face out of it if you like, I just… there’s something about you, in this light.”

“I don’t mind,” the man says.

Hob’s heart leaps.

A few minutes later, he’s gotten his camera out and adjusted. The room is so quiet, so still, that each click of the shutter sounds almost sacrilegious. He shoots in black and white. He thinks the sheets will show dark, almost black, and the man’s skin will show light and luminous against them. His stranger poses like a dream, languid and biddable, moving here and there on the bed, wherever Hob arranges him.

“You’ve done this before,” Hob accuses. He’s kneeling above the other man, shooting straight down, and his stranger has one arm thrown over his face so only one eye is visible. “Posed, I mean. You know how to move for a camera.”

“I have,” the stranger admits. “Mostly for life drawing classes, though I imagine the principle is more or less the same.”

“Incredible. Are you an artist, then?”

“I suppose.”

Hob tugs the sheet a little lower, so that it’s just barely covering the stranger’s prick, which has plumped up a little – whether from the attention of Hob himself or of the camera, he’s not sure, but it’s one of the sexiest things Hob’s ever seen. The neat patch of dark hair blending into the dark sheet. The gentle swell beneath it. His mouth waters.

“You suppose?”

“I find it difficult to call myself an artist. To claim that title. But I make art. If that is the same thing.”

“Hmm. I reckon so.”

Hob pulls the sheet another fraction of an inch lower. He can feel himself getting distracted. The itch he’d felt to photograph the beautiful stranger, now mostly satisfied, has transformed into an altogether different kind of impulse. He takes one more shot, barely paying attention to the framing. Catches himself licking his lips.

“Hob.”

“Yeah?”

“Put the camera down.”

He hastens to obey.

He’d pulled his boxers back on at some point last night, but they do little to hide his arousal as he slides under the sheets and slots himself in behind his stranger, rubbing his nose in the riotous bedhead and kissing his neck as the man tilts his head to one side to give him better access.

“I like how you say my name,” Hob murmurs. He grinds against his stranger’s narrow arse and reaches around to make a loose fist around his hardening cock. “You’re really not going to tell me yours, are you?”

“Mine?”

“Your name.”

“I –” The man’s breath hitches as Hob tightens his grip, stroking slowly up and down. “I haven’t – decided yet.”

“Well,” Hob says against the smooth skin between his ear and his shoulder. “Let me know what you decide.”

They writhe together under the sheets for a few minutes, until they’re both fully hard, until Hob’s chest is slightly tacky with sweat where it’s rubbing against the stranger’s sharp shoulder blades. He’s grunting, underwear pulled down, making quick little thrusts in the crease of the other man’s thigh, sticky and warm and so good.

“Fuck me again,” his stranger says. “Please.”

“Don’t be a madman,” Hob chides. “You’ll be so sore.”

But he doesn’t say no. And he slides a finger between the man’s arse cheeks and pets over his hole, still a little loose from the night before.

The stranger twists his neck around to look Hob in the eye. “I don’t care. I want you,” he says. “I want to feel it.”

And Hob tries his best to be a good person, he really does, but when confronted with this bald-faced desire he is only, after all, a man. So he mumbles Fuck, okay, yeah, okay against his stranger’s shoulder, and tears himself away to retrieve the lube and a condom. He fingers him open, as slowly and as carefully as he can bring himself to do it, and rolls the condom on, and he fucks him again. Face to face, this time; one knee hooked over his elbow, and long arms clinging to him like a drowning man, and panting, open-mouthed kisses that are as much simply breathing the other’s breath as they are real kisses.

The stranger comes first, his beautiful face screwed up in ecstasy, and Hob follows him over the edge mere seconds later.

The other man falls back into a doze almost immediately, drifting off as soon as Hob has disposed of the condom and wiped them down with a handful of tissues, but Hob is buzzing with too much energy to lie back down. He cleans himself up, splashing water on his face and brushing his teeth quickly, before dressing quietly and creeping down to the motel lobby to look for breakfast.

There’s a coffee machine, a few muffins – prepackaged, not fresh – and a rather sad fruit bowl with some mealy-looking apples. He assembles what he can and shoves some creamers and sugar packets in his jacket pocket. He asks the bored teenager at the front desk (a different one than the night before, although bearing a distinct family resemblance) about the weather report, and learns that although it’s supposed to stay cold, no more precipitation is in the forecast. Then he goes back to the room.

His stranger stirs again at the rush of cold air when Hob lets himself back into the room.

“I come bearing provisions,” he says, setting the coffees on the bedside table and dropping the rest of his meager bounty in the man’s lap.

“Foraging for our survival?” he asks dryly.

“Something like that. It’s slim pickings out there, I’m afraid. But hey –” he picks up a muffin and wiggles it “– chocolate chip!”

His stranger snorts and mutters something about being spoiled.

Hob is very careful not to say anything about how he’d like to spoil this man very much, actually, for the foreseeable future and possibly beyond that, because Hob has so longed for someone to care for, and because this man so obviously needs it. Hob eats his muffin, and very carefully does not say anything reckless or emotional.

They finish their motel snacks, and drink their coffees (Hob’s with a little creamer and one sugar; the stranger’s with no cream and an absurd amount of sugar). And eventually Hob broaches the subject that’s obviously hovering between them.

“So,” he says. “What do you want to do now? I’m still up to give you a ride to your cabin, if that’s what you want. The roads are supposed to be cleared by now.”

“I suppose I should,” the stranger says, fiddling with his styrofoam cup, not meeting Hob’s eyes. “I did tell my sibling that I would return in the morning.”

“Okay.” Hob clears his throat. “Alright then. Whenever you’re ready.”

It takes them another hour to leave the room. Hob showers, and then his stranger decides he needs to rinse off as well, and then there’s a frustrating search for car keys that turn out to have been kicked or dropped halfway under a bedside table at some point the night before.

Then the stranger stops Hob in the doorway with a hand on his elbow and kisses him, long and slow and wordless, before they step out into the brilliant snowy sparkle of the late morning.

The drive is very quiet. The stranger directs Hob out of town and along a rather steep road that winds up the thickly forested mountainside. It’s certainly not a road that Hob would have wanted to drive in last night’s weather, and even with clear skies and plowed roads he takes it slow, acutely aware of the grip of the rental car’s tires on the snowy highway.

Only one time does the stranger wince and shift uncomfortably when Hob cannot avoid a bump in the road. Hob smiles, and swallows his smile, and deliberately wrenches his mind away from the vivid memories of just why his stranger might be wincing and shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

His stranger is silent, except for when he briefly tells Hob when and where to turn. The farther they drive up the mountain, the stiffer he becomes, until he’s gripping the seat with white knuckles and his mouth is one firm line.

Hob doesn’t think it’s the wintry roads that are making him so tense.

They pull over, eventually, at the base of a long driveway. Through the trees Hob can see a large house – not really a cabin by any stretch of the imagination, but built of logs, and with a wisp of woodsmoke floating up from a picturesque brick chimney. They both gaze up at it through the trees. Hob puts the car in park but doesn’t turn it off.

“Well, here we are,” he says.

“Indeed,” his stranger says, and his voice sounds tense and slightly strangled. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Hob waits for him to open the door and walk away.

The man does not move.

A minute stretches by, and another, and another, and still his stranger has not opened the car door.

Hob dares to hope.

“Come with me,” he says suddenly.

His stranger looks up, startled.

“I mean it. Come with me. Go get your stuff and we’ll just. Drive away. Go down the coast, find somewhere it’s actually warm. Or don’t even get your stuff,” he adds hurriedly, aware that his voice is sounding increasingly unhinged. “Say the word and I’ll just turn the car around. We’ll go. Anywhere you want, just… come with me.”

The man looks at Hob with an unreadable expression for a long moment. “You know nothing about me,” he says finally.

“I know I like you. A lot,” Hob says. “I know last night was one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time, maybe one of the best nights of my whole life. I know I’d regret it if I didn’t at least ask. So, I’m asking. Come with me.”

“I haven’t even told you my name,” says his stranger. “I could be a serial killer.”

“You could be, yeah. But I don’t think you are. I think… I think you just want someone to want you.” Hob reaches across the gear shift and briefly touches his stranger on the cheek. The man’s eyes flutter closed and Hob doesn’t think he’s imagining the way he leans ever-so-slightly into the gentle touch before he looks down. “I want you.”

There’s another long silence, punctuated only by an occasional call from the chickadees flitting through the trees.

“My name is Morpheus,” he says to his hands, clenched in his lap. “But some people call me Dream. People – people close to me. Call me Dream.”

Hob smiles. “Can I call you Dream, then?”

Dream nods. “Let’s go,” he says. Hob’s smile widens.

“Want to get anything from inside?” he asks.

“No. I think not,” Dream says. All of a sudden it’s like the tight strings of his body are loosened: he leans back in his seat, crosses his ankles, looking relaxed for the first time since they’d gotten out of bed. He lolls his head to one side and peeks at Hob and his face looks fey and happy in the afternoon light. “I believe I have everything I need for now.”

Happiness wells up in Hob’s chest, a rushing feeling like a mountain spring swollen by melting snow. He puts the car in gear and reaches over to take Dream’s hand.

“Right then,” he says. “Let’s go.”

Read on AO3 >>>

#dreamling #the sandman #my writing #designtheendless

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munsonkitten · 2 months ago

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read on AO3 | rated T | sick fic

Eddie groans on the other side of the room. He’s curled up on the recliner with a pillow hugged to his chest. Beside him, a half eaten bag of chips and an unopened Mountain Dew can sit on the side table. He groans again and shifts in his seat, drawing his knees up higher to his chest like he’s trying to crawl inside himself.

“You okay, baby?” Steve asks from the couch.

A quiet grunt comes from the mess of curly brown hair covering his face. He unravels himself slowly, crawling out of the chair without bothering to put down the foot rest. The pillow gets left where it is, and the chips and his drink lay forgotten where they are.

“I’ll be back.”

Eddie disappears from the living room, and the bathroom door clicks close. He’s gone for a little while, and Steve’s about to get up to check on him when the bathroom door opens again, and then he hears Eddie step out and the bedroom door clicks shut instead. When Eddie finally comes back, he’s replaced his jeans for sweatpants, and he has one of his blankets wrapped around his shoulders.

“My stomach hurts,” Eddie says, his voice sounding miserable.

It’s a common occurrence at this point. Steve’s used to Eddie being so up and down — he has good days and bad days, and he eats too much junk food for his stomach to handle. Most days something hurts, and Steve wishes he could wrap Eddie up and keep him safe and away from the pain forever.

In the few months they’ve been together, and the year before that they were friends, Steve’s seen more stomach aches, headaches, painful periods, heartburn and other various ailments than he can count. And he knows Eddie can feel completely miserable over the smallest things — he doesn’t handle any of it very well, moaning and groaning and sighing while he looks for tums and ibuprofen and whatever else he needs.

Steve hums empathetically, sitting up in case Eddie wants the spot where he’s laying. “Can I get you anything?”

Eddie shakes his head.

“Is it period cramps?”

Eddie shakes his head again.

“Good old fashioned tummy ache, then,” Steve says.

Eddie shrugs, wrapping his blanket tighter around himself. He turns around and goes into the kitchen, and Steve hears glasses clinking in the cupboard, and then the sink running. Eddie comes back with a glass of water, taking small sips as he comes toward Steve.

He places a damp hand on his forehead, and then his cheeks, cooling his pink skin. He might have a fever, too, Steve thinks. Something’s been going around, and it’s knocked out each kid one after the other this week — it was only a matter of time before Eddie or Steve caught it too.

“C’mere, kitten,” Steve says, opening up his arms.

He lays back down, gesturing for Eddie to come lay with him on the couch.

Eddie fits himself half on top of Steve, the rest of him slipping between Steve and the back of the couch. The blanket covers them, and Steve can tell Eddie took off his binder when he left the room, too. It’s rare for him to take it off during the day, even if it’s just them at home with no other plans, so he knows Eddie must really not be feeling good.

“Are you sure you don't want a ginger ale, or something?” Steve asks. He slides his hand up and down Eddie’s back, trying to soothe away the pain.

“Don’t have any.”

“I can run to the store.”

“No,” Eddie says. “Only cure is cuddles.”

“Is that so?” Steve snorts.

“Don’t make fun of me. I’m being attacked by my immune system. I’m sick, Steve. You would make fun of someone for having an illness? Shame on you.”

It’s obvious Eddie’s heart isn’t really in it. The teasing doesn’t feel like it usually does because Eddie just sounds tired. He burrows his warm face into Steve’s neck, and sighs, a quiet groan slipping out along with it.

“I’m sorry you don’t feel good, baby,” Steve murmurs.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers. “Always so sweet to me.”

“Just say the word, and I’ll go get some stuff for you, okay?” Steve offers again.

Eddie just hums noncommittally and curls impossibly closer to Steve’s body. He’s snoring softly within the next few minutes, and Steve just turns his attention back to the TV, allowing Eddie to get some rest.

They lay there together for a long while, and Eddie comes in and out of consciousness ever so often. Sometimes he mumbles out quiet words of ‘don’t feel good,’ or laughs at jokes on the show they’re watching, and falls back asleep again.

There’s a warm swell of love in Steve’s chest. The fact that Eddie’s comfortable with him, even when he’s miserable like this, makes Steve fall in love with him even more.

Each nuzzle of Eddie’s warm face against his neck, and each curl of his fingers in Steve’s shirt, or each slide of his leg over Steve’s hip as he gets more comfortable — it all makes Steve feel like the luckiest guy on earth.

The afternoon slips away into evening, and Eddie dozes in and out for most of it. By the time Wayne’s about to leave for work, Eddie’s awake again and groaning in discomfort each time he shifts on the couch.

“I take it someone’s not feeling well,” Wayne comments as he leaves his bedroom. “You need anything before I go, bud?”

“No,” Eddie says, lifting his head just enough to talk to Wayne. He drops it back down with a heavy sigh when the fatigue decides he’s done enough. “Steve’s taking care of me.”

Wayne lingers for just another second, probably waiting to see if Eddie changes his mind, and then he says his goodbyes and tells them he’ll be back in the morning, like always.

Eddie mumbles out a goodbye and a ‘see you later,’ just as Wayne walks out the front door.

He uncurls himself from Steve’s body, then, and worms his way into a sitting position. Steve shifts to give Eddie more room, and raises an eyebrow at him.

There’s a sheen of sweat on Eddie’s face, his forehead glistening and his cheeks a rosy pink. He pushes the blanket off of them and sighs, head lolling back against the backrest of the couch.

“It’s too hot,” Eddie bemoans.

And it’s not, really. It’s winter, and there’s a chill in the air, even inside. Eddie’s like a furnace, though, and his forehead is warm when Steve lifts his hand to touch it.

“You might be really coming down with something,” Steve says.

“You should probably go home,” Eddie says. “Don’t wanna get you sick.”

Steve frowns and shakes his head. “I’ll take care of you.”

Eddie sighs, loud and long. “You shouldn’t have to.”

“I don’t feel like I have to,” Steve says, simply. “I like taking care of you. Figured you’d have noticed that by now.”

Eddie drops his head down to Steve’s chest and moans quietly in his throat. His fingers curl around Steve’s shirt and he holds on, curled in on himself.

“Fuck,” Eddie grunts after a few seconds. “Sorry. Just had, like, a wave of nausea.”

“At the thought of me taking care of you?” Steve jokes.

“Shut up.”

“C’mon, let’s get you to bed, baby. You’ll be more comfortable.”

“Give me another second. Please.”

“Take your time,” Steve says, rubbing a hand up and down Eddie’s back. His shirt is damp with sweat, and he’s radiating feverish heat.

Whatever Eddie has is coming on quick because he was fine this afternoon when Steve first came over. That’s why Steve thought it was just a regular junk food induced stomach ache earlier, and that Eddie would be fine after some tums or a nap, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

He’s been around for headaches and stomach aches and other little ailments, but he’s never seen Eddie sick. Not like this.

Eventually Eddie uncurls himself from Steve, and unsteadily makes his way to his feet. There’s exhaustion in his movements, and Steve is quick to wrap an arm around his waist to help him. It might not be necessary, but Steve can’t help it — he wants to take care of Eddie in any way he can, and making sure he doesn’t pass out in the fifteen feet from the couch to his bedroom seems like a good place to start.

He gets Eddie situated in bed, fluffing up his pillows and making sure his blankets are within reach. Eddie takes one and pulls it up to his chin, rolling over to lay on his side. If he didn’t look so miserable, Steve thinks this would be really cute — Eddie being all cozy and cuddly always makes Steve smile and want to take a picture to save forever.

“I’m going to the store,” Steve says, regretting that he has to leave Eddie alone, but knowing he needs more than they currently have to get through this. “I’ll get you some soup and some ginger ale, okay? Anything else you might need?”

Eddie shrugs. “Just be quick.”

“Of course, baby.”

He bends down and presses a kiss to Eddie’s sweaty forehead, running his fingers through his damp hair, and then he finds his shoes and keys and leaves.

At the store, he picks out a few cans of soup and some ginger ale. He tries to remember what his mom would do for him when he was sick as a kid, and thinks of long nights with a cold towel pressed to his forehead, and a regularly refilled cup of ice for him to chew on. He doesn’t know how much ice Eddie has in his freezer, so he decides he’ll just buy a bag instead of worrying about finding ice trays or how long they’ll take to freeze.

His basket is full by the time he gets to the check out, and he knows he’s been gone for a lot longer than he meant to be.

He gets back to Eddie’s, and finds him still curled up in bed where Steve left him. Steve gives him a Gatorade and a cup of ice before leaving to put the rest of the groceries away.

“Here, try eating something,” Steve says gently, watching as Eddie’s big eyes give him a look that says he wants to do anything else. “Just a few crackers, okay? And I’ll make you some soup in a little bit.”

Steve leaves him to it, a napkin of saltines on his nightstand, and goes to wet a washcloth from the bathroom. He folds it a few times and moves Eddie’s bangs so he can lay it over his forehead.

“Thanks,” Eddie whispers, bringing a cracker to his mouth to take a few small bites. He finishes it and moves to lay down on his side, now holding the cold washcloth to his forehead.

“Do you need anything else while I’m up?” Steve asks.

Eddie takes a few small sips of his Gatorade, and then a few more before answering. “I’m okay.”

With that, Steve climbs into Eddie’s bed, settling between his boyfriend and the wall. He pulls a magazine out of the crevice between the bed and the wall and flicks it open to where he left off the last time he was here.

“You’re supposed to be cuddling me,” Eddie huffs, looking over his shoulder at Steve with as playful a look he can muster. “It’s the only cure.”

“How could I forget?”

Steve puts his magazine back, and turns on his side so he can spoon up behind Eddie. His hand settles gently on his stomach, rubbing up and down in a way he hopes is soothing for him.

It’s pretty likely, Steve thinks, that he’s going to get sick soon, too. This stomach bug has wiped out most of their friends at this point, and being this close to Eddie means it’s definitely going to jump to him next.

He finds that he doesn’t really care. There’s no place he’d rather be right now, and there’s no way in hell he’s leaving Eddie to ride this out on his own.

“So sweet to me,” Eddie murmurs sleepily. It isn’t the first time he’s said it today.

Steve presses a kiss to the back of his warm neck. “Get some rest, baby.”

“Mhm,” Eddie hums. “Tired.”

Sleep tugs at Steve, and he lets himself succumb to it, Eddie held safe in his arms.

(please leave kudos on AO3 <3)

#steddie #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #sick fic #trans eddie #my fics #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve/eddie #stranger things #trans eddie munson

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complete-clownery · 10 months ago

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Okay I wont get to work on this any longer tonight so imma just post this

So this morning I have realised some stuff about my Macaque home hc

So first of all you can see the human disguised Macaque with Bai He,

and so Bai He wasnt there or "planed into the house" three days ago, but I decided that, that just wont do, I want her with Macaque, so im going to have to go back and alter my original ideas so it would fit the concept of Bai He also living there with Macaque (I have quit a lot of ideas for that, but ill get to them when I have the time)

But its not the main reason I wanted to talk about this even with half finished ideas under constructuion in my head

The big thing you already saw the random old lady and the antic Store/shop, so its no suprise im going to talk about that a for a bit,,, not a lot tho cuz I dont really got the energy for this

Soo--- She does not have a name, but Ill work on that, shes not fully thougt out, but nothing really when it comes to my ideas and headcanons (its kinda like eating halfbaked dough)

so shes 73 years old divorced lady running a little antic shop in the outer cirkles of Megapolis. I was thinking maybe it was her who originally selled the whole building to Macaque and rented the free space under the dojo.

She has a daughter and a grandkid (didn't decide on gender yet)

Shes kinda inspired by @/ladygreenfrisbee's oc in the fanfiction sunbreak, a snarky but sweet old lady whos not taking any shit from the brooding, shadow the hedgehog wannabe.

When she was younger she worked in a Museum in Megapolis, working with antient historical artifacts and megical weapons, but she pretty much knew everything about anything in there, with history and old stories being one of her passions,

Thus after she retired she decided to open and antic store. Even tho its an antic store, she can be one of those people that you bring an old piece of furniture or object in and they can tell you if its legit or not. She is also willing to trade and buy stuff from you if its to her likings. She's fair and not a con artist, she has just enough money for herself and thats completely fine by her, shes a simple woman when it comes to living.

She has a ton of degrees, Dr. And Phd tytels and what nots, extreamly smart and knows a lot about history and mytology and different eras of the past, making it easier for her and Macaque to connect over old stuff.

Also I was thinking, even tho she couldnt tell that Macaque was the Six Eared Macaque himself, she knew that they were wearing glamours, She studied artifects and worked with demons who were experts on the field of magics and glamours, she knows her shit

And even tho She had a decent relationshipp with Macaque I dont think Macaque would willingly let her see his true form, maybe after he was very exhausted, and injured after a fight they couldnt hold it up and were like-- fuck it who cares (maybe it was after the final fight with LBD) and she obviously knew who they were imidietly seeing his Six ears (that even tho he let her see one time hé continued to glamour like he would usually, only letting go of their human disguise)

So after that she would start asking him a whole lot of questions about the past and what was it like, carefully avoiding the questions involving the great sage equal to heaven, cuz she knew what happend from jttw

But yeah Macaque found it funny how a child and an old lady are looking at him with similar shimmer to their eyes as they interrogate him on the past

She loves a good tea and has her own little blends that calm the nerves and ease muscle pain and stuff like that. After She and Macaque became more friendly with eachother she gifted them some tea that helps him fall asleep better and relax. Macaque checked them for poison twice and couldnt find anything, but still wasnt willing to drink from them until he had a very fucked up breakdown yippeee ✌️

After Macaque lived there for some years they somewhat warmed up to eachother, they would hold little tea paties and talk about stuff (annoying husbands and divorce) after Bai He started living with Macaque these tea parties increased in numbers, sometimes the ladys grandchild joining in when Grandma was watching over them, maybe they get along well with Bai He, maybe they had a rocky begining to their friendshipp, but they warmed up to eachother and now are pretty good friends (maybe, ill think about it more)

BUT!!! this was it for now its already 2:40 am and im waking up at 6:40 so even tho I have more to say ill be going now

Bye thank you for reading ✌️☺️

#clowning ∆#clown does art #lego monkey kid macaque #lego monkey kid #lego monkey kid oc #lmk headcanon #lmk bai he #lmk #lmk oc

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s0wh4t1f1l1ft · 4 months ago

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Tip for l1fting skincare/makeup/haircare/etc.

When i go out and lift i always hit şěpħøřą AND úłțà in order to get the biggest haul, think about what brands are úłțà exclusive, what brands are şěpħøřą exclusive, and what brands are at both. Then think about how comfortable you are lifting from the store, do u feel more comfortable lifting more from úłțà or şěpħøřą? Then i make a list of brands/products i want and which store ill get them from:

Ex:

şěpħøřą: glow recipe, one size, summer fridays, rare beauty, amika, saie, huda beauty, tower 28, gisou etc (basically i just go for the şěpħøřą exclusives because i there is a bathroom where i can make sure eveything is detagged, sometimes if i cant pull something off at ulta ill try to get it here)

úłțà: drunk elephant, charlotte tilbury, tarte, too faced, ouai, sol de janiero, etc (i go for the easier stuff at úłțà thats still good quality, concealing is a lot easier because of ulta blind spots but checking for tags is super important)

when looking for tags on products i pretend like i am examining the package to make sure nobody else has used it, i do this on the decoy products that i dont borrow so it looks like something i do for everything.

I also tend to browse a little but try not to go back to the same section more than twice, DONT BE AFRIAD TO SWATCH, swatching looks natural and can ensure your getting something youll actually wear and can help SAs think that your really thinking about the products your going to perchase.

speaking of looking natural when l1fting makeup and skincare PLAY THE PART, do a full face of makeup, esp if you can make yourself look different. SAs see someone wearing makeup and often assume if your wearing a lot of makeup you obv have money to purchase more makeup. I hate to say this but dont do too much either, you need to look basic still, unassuming, so if your alt it may be a good idea to have a “basic” persona for lifting.

Dont forget for the biggest and safest haul park far away to avoid cameras and empty your bag between stores, into a bag from the last store if you can so if anyone looks in your car it looks like you just bought it all

THIS IS A ROLEPLAY ACCOUNT THIS IS NOT REAL FAKE ADVICE

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eepwriting · 5 months ago

Note

Hi! Can I request IV X reader where reader gets sick and he takes care of reader?

Nurse IV Headcanons

Warnings: none really, just mentions of sickness/illness

Hiiii thank you for your request!! I love cute stuff like this 🤍

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚

✶ He knows immediately when you’re not feeling well just by your demeanor.

✶ Lowers his voice when he speaks to you, rubbing your back as you tell him how you’re feeling.

✶ If he’s able to, he’ll drop whatever plans he had going on to stay home with you. If not, he’s calling or texting every hour to check on you.

✶ Insists on dressing you in his hoodie and sweatpants before tucking you into bed.

✶ Puts on your comfort show/movie, fluffs your pillows and practically swaddles you up like a baby.

✶ Definitely the type to make you homemade soup while you nap.

✶ Begs to spoon feed you and does it with such care and love if you let him.

✶ He makes sure you have plenty of liquids to sip on and ensures that you actually drink them.

✶ “I want that glass of water finished before the end of this episode.”

✶ Runs out to the store to grab anything and everything you want or need.

✶ Will surprise you with a cute stuffie he saw in passing.

✶ “Look, love! How could this little guy not make you feel better?”

✶ He doesn’t care if you could get him sick and still gives you plenty of kisses and hugs.

✶ Runs a bath or shower for you, helps you undress and washes your hair.

✶ Puts your fresh clothes in the dryer for a couple minutes so they’re nice and warm when you get out.

✶ When you do start to feel better, he’s very serious about making sure you’re healthy.

✶ “Nope, I heard another sniffle, you’re not better just yet.

✶ “Your temperature is still a little high…maybe you should lay down.”

✶ Sometimes he needs a little hint that you can take care of yourself but you always make sure he knows how grateful you are for his time and attention.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚

Just the sweetest sweetums there ever was.

Thank you again for this cute request!!

K. Bye bye.

#sleep token #sleep token worship #sleep token fic #sleep token x reader #sleep token iv #iv sleep token #iv x reader #sleep token headcanons

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senbbonzakura · 7 months ago

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hii!! don't be shy posting anythin, that's cool when new people appear who write south park stuff! 🤍 can i request (f!reader) picnic headcannons with kenny, stanley and kyle? it can be platonic or romantic(sure, aged up), idc

sure!! thank u sm for being my first headcannons req anon !! 🤍 ill try my best with these bc i never was on a picnic so i have to use my imagination on how it works.. also i made this romantic, theyre like 17-18 here

⋆ PICNIC WITH MAIN 3 :

✩ — STAN !

this guy was so flattered when u asked him to go do a picnic with u

he was so excited he couldnt sleep

brought cookies and dr pepper...

its because he was walking around the store for like 30 minutes in denial of what would you like to eat 😭😭

like.. will u like it? what if youre picky? mostly everyone likes cookies so cookies it is

butttttt he brought money to the picnic too in case you need something

he picks a nice outfit for himself!!

and by that i dont mean a suit or anything like that... its just a tee that you once said you liked and his fav baggy jeans

so nervous before meeting u for the picnic. mostly bc of the food. what if youre not happy with the food he brought☹️

he brought a picnic blanket too tho!!

he tries to settle it himself but its sort of windy and he drops the blanket...

it flies away

but dw luckily he got it!!

he tries to settle it ahain but DONT trust him with that bc its gonna fly away again so help him pls😭

once its all settled he tries to make it romantic somehow?? he doesnt know how to be romantic without it being corny tho😕

so he just passes u everything u ask for!!

totally did not put the picnic basket next to himself on purpose..

with stan its mostly just giggles and stuff. he will hold your hand or hug you there and there but he enjoys just talking with you like he would with a best friend, if you know what i mean??

he kisses your cheek and thanks you for all the effort you put in everything <3

✩ — KYLE !

he suggests the picnic 🤗

kyle is the most organized one of them all

before the picnic he knows what to bring and what food you like

like what??? how did he know that?? did he put cameras around ur house or smth

or maybe ur parents just like him a lot so they told him stuff..

keeps checking if he has everything

he also brings you a flower!!

hes a gentleman😭

somehow manages to settle the blanket himself??

he also picked the perfect time of the day so it would be sunset

puts sm effort in to show you how much he loves you!! hes so sweet

brought like a backup hoodie for you just in case youre cold😕

he doesn't really like touching you in public, so expect a hug and a kiss from him only after it gets darker after the sunset

or if he thinks no one is watching

ike definitely wanted to go with you two

kyle said no

he wants it to be a moment just for you and him

ike still comes along with sheila "on accident" but for like a few minutes bc kyle begged them to leave you two alone😭

HE WAS SO EMBARRASSED THAT HIS MOM CAME TOO💔

he apologizes to you

its not like hes embarrassed bc of sheila, its just the fact that his MOM came, if u get what i mean

what more can i say?

besides that its all perfect !!

✩ — KENNY !

you suggest the picnic

he thought abt it before and wanted to ask you too but money... 😕

he immediately said yes and saved money just for that occasion

he knows what food u like

its because usually when you two hang out he randomly asks you stuff like "whats your fav food?" in that case

and he remembers every answer u give him🤗🤗

he brought food and you brought the blanket

he actually made sure to bring enough for the two of you

thats so sweet😕

he doesnt gaf abt public, he will show his love to you everywhere

so he has his arm wrapped around you most of the time

and also kisses your shoulder or cheek sometimes !!

he would do the rizz thing with "hey you have something there" while pointing at ur chest and then he would grab ur chin so u look at him and he kisses u

its just a joke tho😭

thats not a great way to flirt in his opinion

he would also chuckle before kissing u !!

sweeeeeeeet

after the picnic he offers to walk you to your home <3

he also holds your hand while walking

when youre about to leave he hugs you and thanks you for everything too🤗

fill my requests up guys!!

#south park x y/n #south park x you #south park x reader #south park #stan marsh x y/n #stan marsh x you #stan marsh x reader #stan marsh #kyle broflovski x y/n #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle broflovski #kenny mccormick x y/n #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny mccormick

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the-timewatcher · 1 year ago

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A disgruntled Tumblrina (gender-neutral) made a website and why you should too.

Or "reject social media, return to personal websites".

PART 1: THE PART WHERE I CONVINCE YOU TO MOVE TO PERSONAL WEBSITES

So, the Web 2.0 social media infested landscape seems to be crumbling before our very eyes. Reddit's leadership is increasingly greedy, Twitter is sinking under the weight of Elon's massive, yet increasingly fragile ego, Tumblr is slowly turning into another lifeless corpo-fest, complete with the layout, Instagram continues to be vapid and soulless and Facebook seems to be going the way of MySpace.

(feel free to check the alt text on these, btw)

In these troubling times, where everything looks the same and you're expected to be milked for every dollar you're worth, what is a disgruntled Internet surfer such as yourself to do? Move to an untested alternative that's bound to get overrun by fascists thanks to poor moderation? Stay the course on the sinking ships you're used to?

Well, what if I told you that we've solved this problem way back in the 90's and early 2000's and were merely duped by the Big Zuck into forgetting our legacy? What if there was a cure for the sanitized, dull social media hellscape?

It takes a bit of work, when compared to just using a social media site, but even if your particular use case makes switching difficult (ex. an artist looking to promote their work), it's still a good secondary option to consider.

The core appeal is the ability to customize and individualize, make a corner of cyberspace unabashedly yours,

It can also be an exciting avenue of creative expression, giving whatever you want to say a unique coat of paint,

Most website hosting services are a bit more lax about what you can do on them, due to changes in the profit structure (rather than depending on advertisers and investors, they either have a premium option to give supporters perks, have another product, or, in the case of paid services, you renting that space IS the product),

If you want your website to be more accomodating and accessible, you don't have to file tons of feedback - do it yourself,

If you'd like to connect with other webmasters and promote each other's websites, we have webrings - sets of circular links that connect websites with something in common, be it a topic, aesthetic or friend group,

You're less likely to have your stuff purged by an ill-advised change in policy (especially if you have a backup of your files somewhere),

The more people do it, the less power those massive social media corpos have over the internet,

It can be a load of fun!

If I have you convinced, keep reading into part 2. If you just wanna see what I did, skip to part 3. If neither, feel free to continue scrolling. I won't hold it against you. You'll be missing out, that's all.

PART 2: SO, YOU WANNA MAKE A WEBSITE!

Good choice, here's some resources!

sadgrl's absolute beginner's guide to Neocities - what it says on the tin!

W3Schools - a more in-depth tutorial site, a learning resource so excellent it substituted for what I was supposed to learn in technical highschool (because our teacher just told us to go on W3Schools instead of teaching us shit)

A list of free layouts for your website - whether to use as a base to learn from or to simply take for yourself,

Neocities - the posterchild for free website hosting for personal websites. Doesn't allow video or audio, but you can get around that by linking those files from elsewhere. Beginner-friendly to a fault - once you have an account just drag and drop your files in,

Gitlab (& Gitlab Pages) - a more advanced option, but it has a few advantages of its own. Gitlab is a website hoster second and a version control service first - which is programmer speak for "keeps track of changes in your code and stores a backup of it online". it helps a lot when working on multiple devices or co-writing with a friend. And secondly, you can use Gitlab Actions to automate putting your website up (even on Neocities, like I do!)

My askbox - I am not joking, if you have any questions about any of this, I'd love nothing more than to help you out!

But with most of my indie web propaganda out of the way, it's time.

PART 3: Welcome to Timewatcher OS.

Of course, because I couldn't be normal when it comes to making a website, I had to turn it into a fake operating system. Each subpage is an "app", opened in a separate embed window. It has unlockable wallpapers (no pay2win, prommy). There's bideo games on it! I even made a music player for it so I can share my incongruent music tastes!

Like I said in my Tumblr bio, if I ever go radio silent for more than a month, it means I've gotten fed up with this hellsite and moved to my own homepage permamently. And I highly advise you make an option like this for yourself too! Lastly, if any of y'all would like to start a webring, do let me know in the askbox - I'm down to manage it if I'm not alone in there.

Anyways, I hope I convinced you to make a website, or at least check out some of the cool sites you've been missing out on! Hope to see you on the Old Web!

#webdev #web development #old web #neocities #webcore #indie web #codeblr #resources #save

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the-witch-of-one-piece · 1 year ago

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Dia De Los Muertos 18+ Taiju Shiba x Fem Reader Halloween Collab: 31 days of Horror w/ @fuyuswifey Resident: @enchantedforest-network Masterlist WC:2.7k TW: Angst, N/sfw, death, illness, making out, Fingering, slight masturbation, Penetration, Taiju being rough, orgasm,pet names, breast sucking, hickies, creampie, suggestive language and suggestive them (unedited) MINORS DNI

“She is late again..” He looked at his watch as it was close to 6 o'clock. Sticking his hands in his pocket he took off of work early to celebrate something that meant something very special to you. He never celebrated something like this before. Taiju walked to the glass shelf in his living room where a photo of his mother was placed. Looking at the photo for a moment a sudden rush of memories from his childhood came to him. The way his mother smiled, how soft her voice was, or the way she made his favorite dishes. When she became sick he wouldn’t let anyone see his weak side trying to be strong for his parents and his younger siblings. As he saw his mother's illness becoming worse he was mentally preparing himself for the worse. In a matter of weeks, his mother was gone from his life. All the emotions he had in him were locked up and never released. He never spoke about how he felt when his mother passed to anyone. He was hard on himself and his siblings at a young age. His father constantly works endless hours to provide for him and his siblings. He had to be the man of the house and he had to admit he wasn't a pleasant teen, his hardcore demeanor and ego getting the best of him. They all had their issues of being a dysfunctional family that they overcame as they got older, and periodically they would check up on one another as they got older.

Taiju picked up the photo of his mother, walking back with it as he sat on the couch. Thinking about if she was still around things would have been different. But that was a dream that would never come true. He heard the door knob jiggle and turned his head to see you open the front door “Sorry I know I’m late but I went to the store before going home.” you placed the bags on the floor as you closed the door.

Taiju saw the bright orange flowers along with a few other items. “You know it’s just me and you right? Are you expecting more people?” he raised his brow looking at the items than you. “I know but all this stuff is necessary! Help me with the bag please?” giving him a smile. He placed a photo of his mother on the coffee table as he got up to help you with the bags. Taking them into the large dining room. You had a table that was empty you were going to use. Taiju saw how you began to decorate the table placing items in certain areas making it look as aesthetic as possible. He had some idea of what Dia De Los Muertos was and what it stood for but the little things with the flowers and the mass amount of them piqued his curiosity. “Why marigolds?” He picked up one of the orange flowers twirling it by the stem.

“Marigolds are traditionally the flowers used for Dia De Los Muertos. When you pair them with just the right candle they say the spirits can find their way back into the living world to see their loved ones on this specific night.” plucking the flower from his hand “you can feel the presence when they arrive it's like a sudden rush of comfort. That’s how I could explain it.” Taiju, hearing you explain it, was a bit skeptical. You were more open with your feelings and emotions compared to him. The saying opposites attract applied to you both when you guys started to see each other. You tried to make him open up more but you didn’t want to push him too. He hardly talked about his family to you since you could tell it was a topic he wasn’t comfortable with. But all you knew was his mother passing at a young age, his father always working and him having two siblings younger than him. In your bag, you pulled out a photo frame. Taiju looked over your shoulder to see the photo of your parents. It was a photo of their wedding day. “My mom said this was one of the best days of her life, she was marrying her best friend,” you remembered your mother's words. Every time she looked at this photo she would say those same exact words every time. Taiju saw the smile on your face begin to fade the more you looked at the photo. “She is now reunited with the love of her life.” you tried to shake off the sadness you were displaying hiding it with a smile. You placed their photo on the decorated table. “Do you have your mother's photo?” you asked him. “Yeah let me grab it.” He walked back to the coffee table picking up his mother's photo and bringing it back to where you were. He placed her photo next to your parents. “Your mother is beautiful.” you looked at her photo. Taiju’s sister Yuzuha took a lot after her mother.

“Thank you.” in his pocket he pulled out something that belonged to his mother, he kept it with him since he was a kid. It was a necklace she would often wear. She gave each of her kids something before her passing. “This necklace was given to my mother by my father when they first started to date.” He placed the necklace right next to her photo. He missed her, he wished he had her for a bit longer in his life. You grabbed the match as you began to light the candles next to their photos. “What memory do you have of your mother that is special to you?” you asked him. You tried to pry a bit to see if he would respond. He stood silent for a moment, you thought he wasn’t going to respond to your question. He let out a low sigh. In that time frame of you asking him the question he was thinking of one specific one. “I don’t know how old I was but I remember I didn’t want to go to school this was before she was sick.. She took Yuzuha and Hakkai to school and daycare. She ended up taking me to the Aquarium. It was empty in the Aquarium since it was a weekday with each exhibit in the Aquarium she would pronounce each fish in the tank and point them out….” he stopped for a moment then proceeded to speak “I remembered just being amazed she knew them all….she promised me she would do this again with me…..” he took a deep breath “but then she got sick...” his hands in his pocket as he looked at her photo then at you. You could sense that memory held a special moment for him. “Your mother would be proud of you Tai. You worked hard to get where you are for everything you have. You accomplished more than most people.” You reached for his hand. Taiju smirked, “Thanks, there is more I want to accomplish in my life but it will come later on…”

“You have your whole life planned out it seems.” you teased him. “Not all of it… There are some areas in my life that I’m still trying to figure out.” Taiju yellow orbs looked down at you. “Like what?” you blinked a few times. “Me and you, I'm still finding out so many things about you that I wasn’t aware of. Getting to know you more and more of you” he placed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Oh, Tai there is much more. You are just getting a taste of it.” you chuckled he gave a low smirk sound. “Hopefully you would do the same. I want to know more about you.”

“What do you want to know?” he asked. “I… I want to know how you feel at times or what you are thinking about….” doing a dry swallow before continuing to speak “I noticed you don’t really let your guard down even when we are alone. I’m not sure if you think it's some kind of weakness to do so, I don’t think it is. We have been together for some time now and being a couple we should be open with one another. I want to continue growing our relationship strong where we can come to one another whenever.” “Is that what you want?” Taiju looked at you. “I do more than anything,” you responded with a bashful tone. “You will have to give me time on that… I can’t do it all at once with a snap of a finger.” He had to make that point clear. “But I will try.” his hand reaches the top of your head bringing you a bit closer, placing a kiss on the crown of your head. You had a bit of a relieved smile on your face. “Thank you, Tai.” A few moments passed before Taiju got a whiff of something he hadn't smelled since he was a kid. The perfume his mother used to wear. Something came over him that felt what you described earlier: it was comforting and relaxed his body. ‘She is here’ looking at his mother's photo. He wasn’t expecting her presence to be this strong. It hit him like a tidal wave. He closed his eyes and he got the image of his mother. He couldn’t hear what she was trying to say but he could read her lips. ‘I’m proud of you Taiju.’ his eyes shot open. It was becoming too much for him to handle all at once.

You saw he looked a bit distressed “Taiju what's wrong?” you asked him. “I just… need some air, I’ll be back,” he said. He walked away towards the backyard.

You watched him head towards the backdoor. You assumed he felt his mother's presence. It would take him a moment for him to let it sink in. The cool brisk air hit him as he stepped outside. Lighting a cigarette to relax his nerves he kept replaying the image of his mother in his mind. All those years of blocking his emotions he couldn’t keep blocking this one. After the discussion he had with you that happened. “Fuck.. Is this your way of getting me to open up to ______, Mom?” He looked at the sky as if he was waiting for a response from her. After about 30 minutes Taiju came back in, he took a seat in the living room. When you heard the back door closed you walked into the living room. “Tai? You okay?” you walked towards him. “I’m fine.” he looked at you, his hand was extended out to you, and he brought you to his lap. “What you said earlier... I felt it... I hadn’t felt her presence since the day she passed…it was a lot to handle…” “I see.. Tai, I know she is still watching over you even when you think she is not. You may not feel her all the time but she is there.” you gave him a soft smile, and your fingers ran through his hair.

He nodded “It gave me more conformations on what I want in my future.” he brought you closer to him. “What do you want?” asked him softly you looked into his eyes then his lips then back at his eyes. “You will have to stick around and find out.” Taiju’s hands rested on your hips. Both of you leaned as your lips met, you could taste the cigarette he smoked just a few minutes ago. Your arms drape around his neck as he pulls you closer to him, pressing you against his large chest. His tongue dominantly invaded your mouth. His hands roamed your body, his hands sliding up the hem of your dress touching your exposed soft skin. You nibbled on his bottom lip playfully would earned you a low groan coming from him, his hands found your panties pushing them to the side. “Such a good girl you are.” His large finger began rubbing between your damp folds. The moans spilled out of your mouth. “How does that feel? Do you want me to continue?” he spoke in a deep voice that was low. You nodded at his question. “I need to hear you say it. Come on, I know you can.” “Yes Tai~~~please continue~~~ mmmmmm” You were focused on his fingers. As he was making you squirm in his lap. You gripped his shoulders. The bulge began to form in his pants. You couldn’t help yourself as one of your hands began to rub his encaged cock. “Fuck.” he grunted as your hand continued to rub his clothed cock. “Tell me how bad do you want my cock deep inside you?” Taiju needed that bit of control at this moment as he slipped his finger into your wet cunt. “Shi~~~ mmm….” you couldn’t respond at that moment as his finger pumped into you. “Really bad Taijuuu~~~” the moan lingers as you get to his name. “I want your cock in me~~~ please give it to me~~~” your glossy eyes looked into his.

Hearing that desperation in your voice as you begged for his cock was more than enough for him. He slid his finger out from your moist warm cunt. He undid his pants letting his large thick cock out. The tip of his cock was damp due to the precum as you were rubbing him. You felt his tip rubbing against your pussy. Grazing against your throbbing clit. He continued to tease you for a moment. “I want you to look at me as my cock slides into that tight pussy of yours. You began to lower your hips as his cock began to penetrate you. “Don’t you dare close your eyes baby girl.” he let out a husky moan. You followed his orders as you kept your eyes on his. Your pussy was throbbing a bit as you were able to fully have him inside of you. It took you a moment to catch your breath. His hands rested on your hips as he began to help you move up and down his cock.

“Taiju~~~” You moaned slightly, rocking your hips back and forth.

Throwing his head back on the couch “ Yes baby girl?” holding you steady. “Are you enjoying yourself?.” He pushed his pelvis up a bit more and he was pushing you down a bit harder. The slap of your skin began to fill the room.

“Yes Taiju shit you're making me so wet,” your juices were sliding down his cock.

Taiju slid the traps of your dress down exposing your breast. He began to suck on your breast switching back and forth leaving hickies traveling up now to the neck leaving the same love bites. He loved leaving his mark on you. “Fuck I love you so much” his hand resting on the back of your head bring you to his lips as he began to kiss you hard.

You couldn’t even say it back as his lips were dominating yours. The string of saliva broke you both separate from one another trying to catch your breath. Your forehead rested against his. “I love you Tai~~”

“Say it again” He moaned louder, moving you faster as he gripped your hips tighter. The intense sensation in his lower abdomen approached he wasn’t going to last much longer as the sweat trickled down his brow. You weren’t going to last much longer either.

“I - love you, Taiju Shiba.” You moaned the phrase over and over. Your body began to shake as the sudden rush of your orgasm approached. “Fuuuuccccckkkkkk!”

The way your pussy constricted as your orgasm hit around his cock his hot seed shot in deep he pressed your hips down all the way on his cock as he let out a loud animal-like moan. He clenched his jaw tightly and poured every ounce of semen he had in his body into you. Only so much was able to fit into your cunt as some of it began to seep out from inside of you running down his own cock. Taiju's sudden rush was coming down his grip loosening on your hips. The look of satisfaction hitting his face as he his hand reaching for your chin brings you closer as placing a gentler kiss.

Tags: @the-haitani-baton, @satanlovesusall666, @galactict3a, @ratlovecat, @niko-ash, @iluv-ace, @captainmycaptainn, @strawberrychrome, @missgab, @anxious-chick, @livefromraleigh, @kei-b-gurlll, @spookiisopium, @bontensbabygirl, @txna04, Interested in joining the taglist please fill out the form below to get a notification of your favorite characters when they are being posted! Link here ->taglist

#taiju shiba #taiju x reader #shiba taiju #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers #taiju smut #tokyo revengers taiju #halloween collab #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev smut #tokrev

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arolesbianism · 9 months ago

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Y'know now that I'm seeing a small handful of ppl actually giving a shit abt oni lore it's making it so much harder to not become a nerd emoji every five seconds anytime I see someone talk abt oni because I forget that every source of oni information is comically outdated

#rat rambles #oni posting #I have had my fair bit of mistenteripitations as well I have to fight myself every day to not go and delete a bunch of old posts #I wont delete them because they are a catalog of me getting into oni and thats rly important to me but also aghhhhhh #I was wrong abt so much shit that wasnt even because of misenterpretation just me being bad at reading lol #Im still learning new things every time I revisit the logs because I am that prone to misreading and glazing over things #which is why I Really need to finish up and post all the logs so that other ppl can double check with me lol #well in theory theres still not That many ppl interested in lore and Im not even sure if said ppl would see my catalog #but I still want ppl to have an actually complete source for this stuff so Ill probably start cleaning it up more tomorrow #I also will have to go double check that I didnt miss anything because it's very likely I did #it wont be too hard to clean up just annoying since its copy and pasted from the code #again its just abt cleaning it up so that its a bit more readable #I will keep in the name of each log in the files because I think thats information that ppl should be able to access #yknow in case you wanna read it in game without having to hunt it down #for context you can manually unlock a log in one of the oni folders where log unlocks are stored #you can just open it on a note app or smth and add the logs you wanna unlock and it should add them #I haven't done it myself but Ive done similar stuff and its not hard as long as you know the file names #not saying ppl Should cheat in the logs just that I want those who want to to have the option #now my biggest problem is that I dont actually know which logs are spaced out logs #idk maybe theres a way to tell in the files but chances are Ill just have to leave it unspecified for now #I also might end up digging up any set piece item descriptions since while the vast majotity of them are very much not lore relevant #I know at least 2 (3 To Me) are and if I include those and not others thatd just feel weird #its a similar thing I had with the artifacts where the line between lore relevant and not gets blurred the more I include #so yeah Ill start with just logs and artifacts and Maybe do setpiece building descriptions if I feel up to it #but if any of you find the jackie's office setpiece in your saves then know that you have access to both my favorite setpiece and one of my #favorite lines of text in the game Period #its maybe not that big of a deal but it is 2 Me Ok #and to be clear its not jackies desk although I do love that one too girlie is not over her divorce #anyways time to shower and think abt sploon toon some more since well yknow

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sil3ntfr34k · 7 months ago

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I cannot sleep and having postal brain rot 🫶

Postal 1 Dude Boyfriend Headcanons

• Homie has been living alone with his borderline psychopathic thoughts since he was about 19, absolutely 0 social skills. But he kinda likes it like that, although it’s not good for him, but when has anyone ever liked what’s good for them???

• It was a miracle that you ever saw him to begin with. This man hasn’t left his run down home in 3 weeks and you just so happened to catch him at the grocery store buying ‘supplies’ as he calls it. You had helped him find a certain canned item (he doesn’t eat a lot so he needs something that will last for a while) and also helped him at the check out.

• Romantic love is a very foreign concept to him. As someone who doesn’t feel a lot of emotions other than fear and confusion, anything that makes him happy is something he so desperately wants to keep around. So meeting you was like a breath of relief

• It’s very hard for him to understand what he’s feeling, the constant mood swings don’t help either. One minute he’s spiraling downward, but when he thinks of you, he’s suddenly overwhelmed with this warm comforting feeling. For a while he’s convinced you must’ve put a spell on him, before you finally visit his house

• Champ, his baby boy, immediately takes a liking to you, his strong tail hitting against and knocking things over around him as he approaches you to give you sloppy kisses. Since Champ is sort of like a emotional support dog, Dude trust his judgement which ultimately leads him to be more comfortable around you

• It takes a longgggg time before Dude even thinks about getting into a relationship with you. He’s never felt this way about someone and it terrifies him. Being anti social and all makes him very skittish, so you’ll have to ease him into such a intimate relationship

• As the relationship progresses, you really start to see why no one ever talks to him. He’s weird. Like, he has a concerningly large dead animal collect, even feeding them to Champ if his food gets too low and Dude is too paranoid to leave the house. Dude also has a large weapons collection with some military grade stuff. Not to mention his expansive knowledge of the human body after death and the various ways to skin various animals (and humans, but he hasn’t told you that yet)

• Since this whole relationship thing is new to Dude, he has no idea what to do or how to do it. He never plans dates, doesn’t give you any big gifts, and hardly ever says “I love you”. Although he does love to have you around and hold you when he’s comfortable enough with it.

• The amount of illness this guy has baffles you. It’s like he’s nothing but a sick mind and weak mindset. Good luck trying to give him any sort of medication, he will run away and lock himself in the bathroom with Champ. Fully believes that any sort of pill will make ‘corrupt’ him, especially if it’s from a pharmacy.

• Having to deal with this guy during any sort of episode is EXHAUSTING. Yes you love him, but everyone has their limits. His schizophrenic episodes are the worst of them. They usually force him into a paranoid and clouded state, his mood becoming fragile and his actions more aggressive. Usually during these episodes he believes that there are people out to hurt him, to kill him, so he has to kill them first. It’s a doozy and a half trying to stabilize Dude, desperately trying to tell him he’s safe in a his home and getting Champ to sit with him.

• It’s very hard to get Dude outside of his house. His paranoia always gets the best of him and drives him right back inside the familiarity of his run down walls. Wanna go for a walk around the city to bond with him more? Good luck with that. Wanna go grocery shopping with him because he’s been living off the same can of peas for 3 days now? He’d rather starve. Wanna go shopping for his wardrobe? He has enough clothes. Although you could probably lure him out with the promise of bone hunting with him in the local forest area.

• There aren’t many dates with Dude. The entire relationship is mainly just you two relaxing on his couch watching tv. Of course y’all still do ‘fun’ things like playing board games and helping him clean up around his house, but it’s mostly just sitting in peace with him. It may not seem like a lot to you, but to him it’s the most calm and relaxed he’s been in years

• Dude doesn’t give many gifts, but he likes to give you little wooden figures he’s made. Living alone for years and having nothing but free time really gives you the ability to learn a new skill. He took up widdling and wood carving as a hobby to make hard chew toys for Champ since those rubber bones never lasted and the real bones were too expensive. Dude will give you little shiny rocks he found around the house too. He’s kinda like a crow, shiny attractive

• Trying to cuddle or hug Dude is a task. Due to his childhood, he thinks anytime someone is going to touch him it’s gonna hurt. You’re gonna have to ask him, and then slowly reach out for him. Any sudden movements will make him nervous

• Despite all these bad traits, he’s rather clingy and possessive of you. Sure he doesn’t want you to touch him a lot, but he still wants you around. Just having you in his house is like having his own personal angel. Anytime you want to leave he gets incredibly sad and starts to make up excuses of why you can’t leave. “The evil ones, they’ll hurt you if you step foot out there! Stay here with me, where it’s safe.“

ok that’s all I can think of I sleep now

#postal #p1 dude #running with scissors #postal x reader #postal 1 x reader #x reader #postal x male reader #postal Headcanons #headcanon

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kingshovelbug · 3 months ago

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forrest!! SOS!! i have no good food to eat!! ik u can cook so can u tell us some yummy recipes?

oh god i feel like senshi because im so so very late to this ask because ive been in a slump with cooking myself and youve definitely eaten by now. BUT i have a few that i make either when i want comfort food that still checks some boxes of being kind of nutritious or that are just fast

i. spam musubi but its not actually

spam musubi are these awesome hand held things. sometimes they have egg sometimes they dont but i will eat a whole can worth in one go. so i do it as a bowl instead

i start jasmine rice in our rice cooker and chop the spam into cubes vs slices like it would be for musubi. fry them on medium high until theyre crispy. then ill julienne an onion and add it to the spam. once the onion is starting to soften ill add the sauce. the recipe i saw was 2tbsp soy sauce, 1 tbsp mirin with like a spoon full of sugar (honestly it was probably just under a tbsp) but ive been cheating recently and using a japanese bbq sauce i found at our local asian grocery store. once everything is coated i cook it a few mins so the sauce thickens up. by then the rice should be done and then you just take a scoop of each and i add seaweed on top

i know its not proper but since will doesnt like the sweet savory combo and im the only one eating it this way is easier for me to handle. i can store the rice and spam separately so nothing gets mushy and even refry the spam when i want to heat it back up

ii. black bean, pepper and cheese quesadilla

this is actually how i got will to try beans. i just take a can of black beans and dump the whole thing into a pot and cook on medium until i can smash them. ill also fry peppers and onions on medium until they have a little char. spices are honestly up to you and how spicy you want it. i usually put salt, pepper, cumin, paprika, chili powder and garlic in with the beans. once the beans are mostly smashed and the peppers cooked ill throw them together and smash them more just so everything is easier to spread onto a tortilla. that plus you can add your cheese. ive shredded my own and used grocery store mixes so its up to you!

iii. spicy garlic tofu

almost no notes on this. i use less maple syrup than the recipe calls for so 1tbsp of everything in the sauce. and instead of gochujang i use a chinese chili paste, imo it ends up less ketchup flavored but if you like ketchup then just use gochujang

iv. https://thecookiewriter.com/roasted-mushroom-pot-pie/

i dont make this as often but this is a recipe i use as a base and then cheat. i swap in frozen veggies and it speeds everything up

v. hotpot

i love making hotpot at home. its super easy skill wise it just takes some time. you can buy premixed hot pot bases from the grocery store if you have an asian grocery store near you and you just dunk stuff in the soup until its cooked. you just need to watch out for the spice level of the broth

will and i will usually get thinly sliced beef, rice cakes, udon noodles, fish cakes, bok choy and mushrooms. all you do is bring the broth to a boil and cook your ingredients. sometimes i dunk with chopsticks other times i cook with a small strainer lol

#asks

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kekaki-cupcakes · 1 year ago

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Hellooooo

I saw that ur requests are open so here I am :)

Can I request a leo valdez x hermes kid reader please? (Not headcanon I hate it 😅)

Here you go <3 [there wasn't a lot of info in the ask so I sort of created a plot and stuff, sorry it took so long]

No head canons as requested :)

┈┈┈┈┈◦•✩•◦┈┈┈┈┈

Despite the fact the gods were absolute [REDACTED] little [REDACTED]’s, your father had at least had the courtesy to not make you allergic to strawberries. The green stems still scratched your ankles as you strode through the fields, but that was a given, and you’d taken to wearing yellow gumboots as you collected the crates

At least three quarters of Camp Half-Blood were kneeling in the dirt, gloves and wide brimmed hats on as Pollux and Katie directed them around the rows of produce they were supposed to be picking.

The warm summer air carried the scent of the berries strongly, and disguised the stench of Pegasi poop fertilizer, thankfully. You adjusted your beaded camp necklace and looked around for Clarrisse, who was supposed to be in charge of getting the Ares kids to load the crates of strawberries into the van. She was found quickly, yelling at one of her brothers to ‘stop lazing around and get your ass moving!’

You tucked the clipboard under your arm and strode over, stepping over a discarded spear, “hey, all the crates packed?”

“For the first lot,” she grumbled, picking up the spear and jabbing at one of the kids who had taken a bite of the strawberry in their hand. “These buggers won’t be finished in time for the second one today- hey you! Yeah you, get your gods-damn ass up and quit whining!”

You rocked on your heels for a moment, and then decided to make an escape before she put that spear to use. All of the order’s in the first lot were for surrounding roadside cafes and grocery stores, so it’d only take a few hours. Argus chucked you the keys as you made your way over to the pink van, which had a large ‘Delphi Strawberry Farms, Long Island Sound’ logo printed in a darker shade of pink. “Thanks dude.”

He just grunted back, and you opened the door, checking behind you that none of the crates were out of place. The perks of being a child of Hermes were far and few, extra bunkmates that didn’t want to be there and general shame on your cabin because of a certain scarred blonde never helped, but now you were the oldest, save Connor and Travis, which meant roads, traveling, and trades was your area of expertise.

That's why you were listening to the jingling of the Totoro keychain on the van keys and the radio, wondering if the nearest drive through was open. It’d be a busy afternoon dropping crates of the red berries off and signing clipboards, but anything was better than dishes duty, so you volunteered happily, as one of the only demigods who could [legally] drive.

You were out of the Camp Half-Blood border when you heard the first thump behind you, but to be fair, there was a pothole, probably because of a monster, so you ignored it, assuming a strawberry crate had tipped over. Then there was a more alive like sort of sound, and you were already reaching for where your perfectly crafted weapon sat on the passenger seat.

The rearview mirror didn’t give away what sort of monster was hiding in the back of the van, so you eased off the accelerator and gulped, keeping one hand steady on the wheel and the other on your weapon. ANother glance to the rearview mirror, and you caught a glimpse of the monster's shadow, lit up by the soft afternoon sun.

Then the van skidded on the road a little from lack of attention, and you whipped back to the front. You heard a loud screech behind you. Your ill-used weapon flew from your hand as the wheel spun out of control. The seatbelt cut into your chest as you were yanked forward.

There was a sudden impact, a crash, and then a heavy silence.

Your breathing was only just audible over the pounding of your heart, and you wiggled each of your limbs one at a time, but all that you felt were dull thuds of pain and shock through your bones.

The next thought came to mind when smoke billowed in front of you. The bonnet was on fire. Of course. Then something fell in the back of the van, and you were scanning the trashed front seats for something to defend yourself with.

“Holy Hephestus, that was intense.”

“Valdez?” You felt the muscles under your eye strain as a twitch formed. You turned slowly to see a sooty son of Hephaestus wiping a squashed strawberry off his cheek. The eye twitch turned to a glare. “You are so dead.”

“How is this my fault?” He scoffed, sitting up a bit and prodding at the nasty looking bruise on his jaw with a grimace.

“You literally hid in the back of the van without telling me, and then scared the life out of me, and we hit a,” You peer through the billowing smog outside and see a brown and green shape. “Tree.”

“In my defense, you were the one that was steering the-” He must have noticed your expression, because he narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips slowly. “I’m gonna stop talking now.”

“And then fix the van.”

“RIght, imma go fix the van,” He nodded quickly with a grin, like this was just a fun outing, and after a few pitiful tries, slid the door open. “Good idea.”

┈┈┈┈┈◦•✩•◦┈┈┈┈┈

Leo Valdez was an interesting boy. If interesting means a greasy annoying know it all with a cute face and a knack for fixing slightly dented strawberry vans.

You were unloading all of the previously stacked wooden crates to see which ones were still sellable, and which ones would be taken back to camp and served as strawberry pie. Once that was done though, and a few orders were crossed off the list and added to the lot two clipboard, you sat on a crate going back to camp, and watched him in a totally not creepy way.

You masked it with a firm glare, which he only winked at. It was infuriating really, but then he’d stick his tongue out as he concentrated on whatever had happened under the bonnet, and maybe you could look past that.

It wasn’t your fault you were so drawn to him, it’d been him who’d showed up at the camp shop five minutes before closing to restock the windchimes the Nyssa had been making for Katie, who ran the store. And Katie was the one who’d asked you to stay behind and lock up once he was done.

Although it sort of was your fault you’d sat on the bench organizing the cash register for half an hour and bantered with him, then taken two ice creams out of the freezer and handed one over, which only resulted in the boy trailing after you like a lost but content puppy for the following weeks. It wasn’t too bad, he was funny, and brought plates of bread, cheese and olives when your shifts at the camp store ran through lunchtime.

Somehow that friendship had blossomed into stalking and van crashing, although the latter was being reversed as you basked in the sun, watching it glow from behind Leo like a halo.

He brushed the grime and oil off his hands and onto his cargo pants, smiling at you and oblivious to the greasy handprints now decorating his legs. You just raised your eyes back with a little smile and stood up, carrying the crates you could still deliver without getting sued to the back of the van.

You slid them into place, and turned around to see Leo’s arms shaking as the wooden box he held slipped a little, his face screwed up with effort. The determination on his face stopped you from rolling your eyes, instead, you took it off him. Well, tried to take it off him, but you accidentally grabbed the bit he was holding, stopping him from moving his hands away.

Leo had the faintest patch of little freckles along the bridge of his nose and his cheekbones, which were flecked with scars.

“Uhm, sorry” he sputtered, freckles hidden by a deep red in mere seconds, and tugged his hands away, shoulders tensed. “I was just tryna-”

You blink, and realize you’d been staring a little. Then you whipped around with the crate in your arms and prickling skin. Was it obvious that you wanted to find out the story behind each of his faint scars and maybekisseachofhisfreckles? “Thanks.”

There was silence behind you as the rest of the crates were put into place, and you pulled the door shut, finally finished. You swing the van keys around your fingers, “so why were you stalking me?”

“Was not!” Leo argued, “I was…shopping.”

“...In the back of the Delphi van.”

He sighed, pulling a list out of one of his many magic pockets on his toolbelt, and handed it over. “I was gonna sneak out of the van when you stopped and go get everyones stuff, cause Chiron said we can’t go out this week, cause it's strawberry picking.”

‘I am Kenough’ hoodie [Piper]

Giant wolf teddy [da bad boy supreme]

Peanut MnM’s [Nico]

Bluetooth speaker [Thalia]

“Thalia’s tryna get him into her music,” Leo explained, hands in his pockets, “she thinks Taylor Swift should be illegal.”

“Huh?”

“It’s Jason’s birthday, the day after next. I was elected for present buying, cause I’m the smallest and best at hiding, and Piper thinks I’d get in less trouble. Dunno why.”

Oh gods.

His friends knew that you liked him, that’s why he’d been sent to get the presents and hide in the back of the van. Piper was a daughter of Aphrodite, of course she knew. But Piper was nice, not that you knew her very well, but still… she wouldn’t use you… Would she?

You took a shaky breath and turned around, frowning. Then you squinted at Leo, “how were you planning on getting back after you snuck out of the van?”

“I… To be fair I wasn't in charge of planning, and I'm more of an act then think about what i fucked up kinda guy anyway.”

“Yeah, I figured.” You mutter, and open the driver's seat door, hopping in and starting the engine. The smoke billowing from the bonnet was long gone, and the van smelt of warmth and strawberries instead of fear. You pull your seatbelt over your chest and click it into place. When you glanced out the window, Leo was still standing outside in the grass, looking lost.

You beep the horn twice and roll down the window, “you gon’ walk back to camp or you gon’ hop in?”

A grin split across his face, making your chest light and fluttery.

┈┈┈┈┈◦•✩•◦┈┈┈┈┈

“Does it matter which coloured wolf it is?”

You turn to Leo, holding up the two fluffy wolf teddies, one on either side of your head as if you were one as well. His smile wobbled across his face and he held up another one, “What about green?”

“Shrek Four, more wolves.”

“How original,” he teased, throwing up the green wolf into the air and then failing to catch it, instead the toy face planted onto the shiny floor of the store and rolled. The Shrek wolf let out a long pitiful squeak.

They both froze, until you squeezed the pink one in your hand, and it made another sound like a dying kitten. Leo blinked a few times. “Are they- did we… Are they dog toys?”

“We are the dumbest humans alive,” you choke, and toss the pile of multicolored dog toys back into the rack, along with the rubber balls and bone shaped plushies. Now that you actually thought about it, it was pretty obvious these weren’t for humans.

Leo ran a hand through his hair. “Where else are we gonna get a wolf teddy? All the shops will be closing soon anyway!”

“Will he know?”

“What?”

“Will Jason know it’s a dog toy?” You ask, raising your eyebrows apprehensively. Leo’s warm eyes widened, and a little smirk turned into a big smirk in a matter of seconds. “I mean, does he mind squeaky things?”

“I mean, he was raised by wolves, maybe he’ll like it?”

┈┈┈┈┈◦•✩•◦┈┈┈┈┈

“Last one, you’re kinda good at this,” you note, passing Leo the clipboard and pen, then clambering into the back of the van to grab the last two crates, which were being delivered to the cafe between Camp Half-Blood and the closest Mcdonalds.

Leo grinned over his shoulder as he headed to the girl in a fluorescent yellow jacket tucked into a pair of overalls waiting at the back of the cafe. “It’s my natural charm!”

You jump back out holding the stack of wooden boxes and follow him, rolling your eyes, which you had been doing far more than you usually did in the last few hours. Then again, your cheeks were sore from smiling so much, and the electricity you could feel in your veins hadn’t faded yet.

“You have no natural charm, Valdez.”

“Course I do,” He winked, then handed the sheet to sign to the girl. “You put up with me right? I’ve definitely charmed you.”

You freeze, and then move to the palettes by the back door and dump the strawberry crates, giving the Delphi Strawberry Farms stamp on the pale wood one last look, and then getting back into the van. Only then could you let out your breath and sink into the leather seat a little, eyes wide.

Was he catching on? Or just joking around?

There were a few more moments of silence and thoughts spinning like a whirlwind, before Leo scrambled up into the passenger seat, letting out an exaggerated sigh when he made it up. “Man, are these things built for giants or something? What normal person is expected to get up that high?”

You just shrugged, checking behind you in the rear view mirror as you pulled out of the car park. “Dunno.”

The atmosphere changed immediately as Leo glanced at you with wide eyes. He’d probably been expecting you to make a short joke at his expense, hell, he’d set you up for it. He looked away though, while you turned up the staticky radio and drove you both onto the small highway.

The seconds ticked by painfully slowly, trees, clouds, and green hills of flowers whizzing past the windows. You could feel eyes on you every few minutes, but didn’t look back.

Was this all at your expense?

Was Leo in on Piper’s pretty obvious now when you thought about it, plan? Was he using your soft spot for his faded freckles and stupid smile to get out of Camp Half-Blood unnoticed?

His tapping got annoying after a while, on his legs and the seat and the door. Chewing his fingernails and pulling bits and bobs out of his toolbelt. They stopped suddenly, and a second later he turned to you, gulping. “Did I say something wrong?”

You turn the radio down til all you could hear was your heartbeat in your ears and Leo’s desperate ramblings. “I kinda do that a lot, it’s a bit of a problem, but if I said something bad I didn’t mean to make you angry. Was it when I teased you about me charming you? It was just a joke and-”

“Was it?”

Leo faltered. “What?”

Your knuckles were stiff on the wheel with how hard you were gripping it, and you had to take deep breaths so that you could focus on the road in front as well as the friendship you were messing up. “Did Piper… Did she use her powers on me to find out? Is that how you know?”

“Know what?”

“Don’t be thick, Valdez. You know what I'm talking about.” You snap, then shut your mouth tight, guilt trickling into your veins. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. Just forget it.”

“No, no.” Leo interrupted, “Piper’d never do that, she’d not like… She wouldn’t do that, I promise. And it really was just a joke, but…”

“But what?”

“Pull over,” he blurted, reaching for where your hand sat on the wheel quickly. You check behind you, heart racing not just in your ears but everywhere, pounding through your body, dragging nerves and fear through your limbs.

There was an inkling of monsters, always monsters, in the back of your head as you pull over to the side of the road, stopping the van in the grass. But, there was another thought in there as well, a mere fantasy, really, but- but that thought was wiped, along with every other one in you hear when calloused fingers pressed against your jaw, moving your head so-

Leo unclipped his seatbelt in a second you didn’t even register, because time stretched out and squeezed back into place like a yoyo, until you didn't know if the kiss had been a peck, or hours of soft lips and tight chests.

His eyes were warm and brown and fearful as Leo shrunk back a little, like he was only just registering what he’d done as well.

“You kissed me.”

“I’m sorry you were just saying all this stuff like I didn’t kinda sorta really like you back and I kinda sorta wanted to kiss you as well for ages but…”

“You were kinda sorta scared?” You filled in his silence, and Leo dipped his head, nodding a few times. You didn’t have enough time to sort out all the emotion in your head at that moment, so instead you unbuckle, and lean back over the console.

Leo was still looking down, so you had to tilt his head up. “Well… Why don’t we practice til it isn’t scary?”

All you got in response was a wide eyed stare, and you backed down after a moment, shame curdling in your gut. The moment you let go of his chin, Leo was moving forward, your orange shirt balling in his fist and his other hand reaching to cup your face. You let him.

One of the many things you found out about Leo as you kissed him, apart from the fact his lips were chapped and he really liked tracing his fingers along your jaw, was that he had been eating strawberries on the sly all day. You could taste the berries in and on his mouth, which moved against yours in sync, like you were one and the same.

You pulled away gently, and looked down, not even knowing when your arms had slipped around his waist, but he was pulled a lot closer then he had been at the start. You didn’t mind. At all.

“Better?”

His eyes were lidded and he was quite possibly the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. Leo grinned, his lips puffy, and tilted his head to the side a little. “Maybe a more practice. Just to check.”

“Good idea,” you mutter into another kiss. There was a little thud, and Leo moved over the gear stick between you and onto your seat, never breaking the contact. Contact between everything, really, your lips and his. Between his arms and your neck as he held you closer. Between your hands and the soft scarred skin on his sides that was warm under your fingertips.

He shivered as you circled your fingers, ducking his head and taking a breath. When he looked back up at you, his eyes were hazy. “So, like… I'm guessing this means you aren’t mad at me anymore?”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“I might’ve convinced everyone I should go buy Jason’s presents cause I wanted to hang out with you…” Leo smirked, his eyes crinkled and sparkling. You sighed, but you weren’t annoyed with him, and you didn’t think you would be again. Unless he caused you to crash the van again, then she would rain hell down on the boy.

You pressed your lips against his softly, and pulled away again. Gods, you could do this forever. “You’re an evil genius, Valdez.”

“But I’m a good kisser, right?”

#pjo fandom #pjo #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #leovaldez #leo valdez #leo valdez x you #Leo Valdez x child of Hermes #Leo Valdez x reader #leo valdez x y/n #but no use of y/n dont worry lol

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