#not the dude but the actual action of dreaming

[zolo-san]

I know I just rambled in the tag, but if you took the time to read all that, might I direct you to this post & my ramblings there as well~

Something about Zoro being one of the most misunderstood and mischaracterized characters in One Piece is funny (not haha funny, funny sad) to me because?? That’s literally how his introduction starts?? With people misunderstanding him and thinking he’s some big, monstrous demon who kills with cause and cannot be trusted or tamed.

Meanwhile the actual Zoro is a driven guy who is often both literally and figuratively directionless in life and found his goals in life through good people (first Kuina and then Luffy). He's tied up in the Marine base not due to those actual crimes he commuted (well not inherently anyway) but because he ‘disrespected’ a Captain's son and stood up for a little girl. He accepts the challenge they present to him and because Zoro himself is a guy that puts his money where his mouth is he assumes the Marines will uphold their end of the deal and let him go (note the actual shock when Koby tells him the truth)

He joins Luffy's crew but also outright says he’s not gonna let his goal take second place to Luffy or anyone else's for that matter, he bears the weight of two people's dreams, his heart isn’t going to be swayed by some pirate.

Speaking of Kuina, her impact and influence on Zoro's life isn’t talked about enough for my liking. She was Zoro's first friend, his first rival, his first goal. He looked up to her so much and his reaction to her passing cracks my heart in half every time because you can seem him just..go numb. Kuina, dead? Kuina, the strongest person he knows, gone? Kuina, who swore to him just yesterday they’d race to the top of the world together, doesn’t exist anymore. His blank face only cracking within the privacy of his sensei before he begs. He begs on his knees, tears streaming down his face please please please let me take Kuina's sword with me. Let me take our dream to a high neither of us could imagine. I won’t let her name die here.

On top of gaining the Wado Ichimonji that day Zoro also gained…fear. Not of death, well at the very least not his own, he gained his fear of not being enough. Kuina kicked his ass every way a person could and still died, what could someone like him do? So he trains…and trains…and trains some more. Overly, obsessively, constantly telling himself he’s not enough, he’s weak, he can’t protect anyone like this and everyone's death would be on him.

As for Zoro being cold and stoic that’s just…not completely true? He’s not stone, he can be excited or sad or angry just as much as most characters he just sucks at showing it canonically (Kuina thinks he hates her before their final fight after all). Sure he’s not as forthcoming about it as some of the other Strawhats but Zoro's more of an action guy anyway, he'll show his love with his protection and unwavering faith.

In conclusion, Zoro is a ridiculously stubborn, incredibly loyal, mildly emotionally constipated, do what you say/say what you mean kinda guy.

(Also that whole ‘Zoro would kill the whole crew if Luffy asked him to’ thing? Top ten stupidest things I’ve ever heard from the fandom and that’s saying a lot. He’s loyal not brainless and heartless guys if Luffy asked him to do that, he would never but I digress, Zoro would square the fuck up with him so fast. DPMO.)

[no-romo-hoes]

How to enslave your brain-damaged son?

Yooooo so I just had this crazy dream, right? It’s a How To Train Your Dragon dream. but it’s like, reaaaaaally dark.

Ok so most of the plot is the same. Hiccup is horribly mistreated and neglected by his father, meets Toothless, plans to run away (which would have been an awesome film of its own) but doesn’t, tries to prove dragons are actually pretty neat, fails, blah blah blah you get it. But in my dream, when the vikings capture Toothless in the arena, Hiccup gets a pretty nasty blow to the head and suffers some freaky brain damage. And I’m not talking concussion, or even comatose, I’m talking lose-90%-of-your-memory-and-rewrite-your-personality type brain damage. 

So Hiccup has kinda lost his macaroni, he’s basically become a human-hating violent-ass kill-on-sight maniac, and Stoic has to chain him up so he doesn’t hurt anyone. Also he’s somehow really good at hitting people with a wooden staff, so that’s a thing too. Now the vikings are still dicks and Stoic is even worse than is canonical, so they wonder.

“Hmm... ah wonder what to deur with mah psycho son who’s completely bat-shit crehzy and his psycho dragon pet. Oh! Ah know! Ah’ll mek ‘em gladiators!!” 

(Stoic decides to make Hiccup and Toothless gladiators for those who can’t read Scot)

So now Toothless and Hiccup are enslaved by the vikings and forced to fight other vikings and dragons as entertainment. Hiccup (who again doesn’t remember anything except the fact that he loves Toothless) is forced to wear a helmet that looks like the one he wears in httyd2 that’s linked to some sort of device that Gobber controls. Whenever Hiccup gets too close to the crowd or hurts his opponent too badly, Gobber turns a dial that injects iron from the helmet straight into Hiccup’s bloodstream. truly truly vile, especially when you can actually feel the blood thicken and weigh you down. it hurt, honestly.

Anyway yeah that was my dream. someone can use it as inspiration for a fanfic, I don’t really care as long as you credit me :)

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

”he shouldn’t have had to apologise” he was fucking misogynistically blaming a woman for shit her grown ass son did and expecting HER someone COMPLETELY UNRELATED to the situation to do something bc she was a woman and woman have to take responsibility for what men related to them do actually. he should apologise bc messaging sarah at all is misogynistic as shit. like imagine if people sent dream's mums dms if he did shit they didn’t like that’d be obviously horrible and invasive and misogynistic as shit bc why you blaming a random woman for shit men did. he should be on his fucking knees begging bc he did like misogyny 101 blaming women for shit men did.

[yappacadaver]

you know they were about to go so hard on emmy's personal quest. they didnt. but at least someone in that writing room wanted to give us that good good

[angelic-writer]

Mavis made his way through the sea of people to get to his locker. No one spoke to him. No one paid any attention to him. He didn’t mind this, actually. It allowed him to pass through undetected like a ninja. It was a perk of being one of the quiet kids. Although, sometimes, he wished he had more than just four people to talk to.

He spotted Carter through the crowd and gave him a quick “Hey!”. He waved back in response, smiling at him.

Compared to Mavis' drab appearance, looking like he just got out of bed, Carter’s hair was combed back in a neat fashion, his eyes sparkling like he just got a good night’s sleep. His attire consisted of a black shirt, blue jeans and a red flannel jacket. He was a bit of an anomaly at school. Most girls talked to him, but he had never gone out on a date with them. He was popular, but he was always seen talking with Mavis. People had asked him to hang out with people of his social status, but he always turned it down. “I don’t want to leave my friend alone, you know?”

Carter grew concerned when he saw that Mavis' eyes were droopy. “You okay?”

“Oh yeah. I just didn’t get enough sleep last night.” He answered, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh… Did you…” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Dream about it again?”

Mavis let out a shaky sigh. “Yeah. I thought I got past that. I thought it had gone away in middle school.”

“Listen, if you need to talk, I can come over and we can. Or if you don’t want to, we can just talk about whatever. I’m fine with anything.”

Mavis smiled. Whenever he was around, his mood would improve a bit. They had both been friends since they were kids and they bonded over their family struggles. With Mavis' family, his parent’s feuds that constantly aggravated him. With Carter’s family, his mother having medical problems. He remembered the day of a particularly nasty fight where Mavis' mom and dad got into a screaming match. He had gone to Carter's house, crying, wondering if his parents didn’t love him anymore. “Is it my fault?” He asked him in tears. “Is it my fault mommy and daddy are constantly arguing? Weren't they supposed to love each other?"

Carter was quick to rescue him, offering a shoulder for him to cry on, reassuring him that his parents still love him. For the rest of the day, they played some of his favorite video games, played hide and seek outside with Mavis hiding in the shed, and even let him play with some of his action figures. Even though he felt uncomfortable about barging into his house unannounced, the fact that his friend was there for him in his time of need made it all worth it.

Mavis and Carter both got their textbooks out of their respective lockers and were about to walk to their classes when they heard a familiar voice.

“Hey guys! You lookin’ pretty snazzy today!”

They both turned to look at the source and their smiles widened. There they are. Tyler Lechner and Gavin Ozpin. They were both seen as the punk kids in school, always getting into trouble with school faculty. That was definitely why Charlie hung out with them. Tyler had a hoodie that had the logo of a rock band on it while Gavin was all decked out in his scene kid gear - ripped, black jeans and a ripped, denim jacket. He had multiple piercings in his ears and one of his eyebrows had a shaven mark on one side. He even got himself a tongue piercing which Mavis couldn’t help but cringe at. He remembered how he reacted the first time he saw Gavin's new look.

“Whoa! Dude, you look... Different. What'd you do?” He had asked him on their first day of sophomore year.

“Well, Charlie and Ty took me to a few places. We thought it would, y’know, change our status quo a bit.” He fluffed up his hair. “Gave me some curls too.”

“What status quo?” Carter asked.

“Uhhh���.”

Tyler stepped in. “He just wanted to look different this year.”

“So, spent another boring night without internet?” Gavin asked, leaning against the lockers.

“Actually, it’s pretty beneficial. It allowed me to catch up on some reading.” Carter said.

“Pfft! Who has time to read anyway? There could be so many other things we could be doing. So many TV shows we could be watching. But thanks to the mayor’s bone-headed decision, our rights are slowly being taken away!”

“Gavin, you know there’s a reason behind the curfew and electronics rule.” Tyler said.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s because they’re trying to keep us safe from the mimics. But I mean, they didn’t have to say that we can’t use our cell phones after 9, right?” He waggled his cell phone. “I mean, I doubt someone’s face could appear on something like this and kill you.”

"I mean, it could be possible considering what they can do."

“Well, it’s best to be safe and follow the rules. You don’t want to get fined again, do you, Gav?” Mavis asked.

“No…”

“Good.”

They changed the conversation to something more suited for the morning. The point Gavin made about the cell phone restriction made Mavis think… There hadn’t been any reports of mimics coming through phones as of yet. Now that he thought about it, there wasn’t really a good reason for this rule. Maybe the mayor caved in after several paranoid calls from parents. Something about their children being influenced by Satan or the mimics. Business as usual in Crestwood county.

Other than that, life resumed as usual for the teens. Tyler and Gavin were talking about who knows what while him and Carter started quizzing each other to prepare for Mr. Bentley’s test.

"Hey Tyler? Where's Charlie?" Gavin asked.

"She's probably hanging out with her gal-pals. She always want to keep up the bad girl attitude." Tyler responded.

"Hmm."

Although he said that, they already knew who Charlie was.

Project Mimicry (Vol 1) - Chapter 1

"In the beginning, God created the heaven and the Earth." - Genesis 1:1

1983

"This is a test. This station is conducting a test of the Emergency Broadcasting System. This is only a test."

A long, screeching noise blared from the old TV. The Markson family had a different program on when they announced the test. It was some cowboy show their dad loved so much. For eleven year old Jade, it made her stomach churn. It was an odd sound, different from the sounds of horses and gunfire that came from the living room while they were doing family worship. It made her want to jump into her mother's arms and pray to Jehovah for the noise to stop.

Her mom, dad and brother were silent as the attention signal droned on. After a minute, it stopped.

"This is a test of the emergency broadcasting system. The broadcasters of your area in voluntary cooperation with federal, state and local authorities have developed this system to keep you informed in the event of an emergency. If this had been an actual emergency, the attention signal you have just heard would have been filed by official information, news or instructions. This station serves the northern Alabama area. This concludes this test of the emergency broadcast system."

Jade fiddled with the pages of her book, trying to think of the right words to say. Her brother, Caleb had resumed work on his drawing, seeming to not care about anything. Her mother let out a small sigh. "I swear, can they not scare the kids like that?"

"Mom..." Jade quietly said. "Why do they send out something like this? What if it hadn't been a test? Are... Are we gonna die?"

Opal got up from her chair and pulled her into her arms. "Oh sweetie, we're not gonna die. Everything's gonna be okay. This whole thing will blow over in no time."

"Well Jade," Opal's husband, Simon, chimed in. "They played the test on our TV because they want to inform us on what's happening. The world is at a very turbulent time at the moment so they are doing their best to keep us informed. If we were actually under attack, we would've been hiding in the basement." He let out a small chuckle.

"Well, what can we do to make it better?" Jade asked.

"Pray to Jehovah, of course. Our safety is his priority and if we pray to him, he'll protect us."

Jade smiled and snuggled into her mother. Jehovah is the only thing she knew. She may not be like the other "worldly" kids, but she didn't need all those material goods. She didn't need to see the latest movie or buy the newest toys. As long as she had her family and Jehovah, she can get through anything.

Caleb let out a soft coo.

"Oh, we didn't forget about you!" Simon lifted him out of his baby chair and gently rocked him. The whole family began to giggle.

This was their life. This was their routine. Jade was determined to be a good older sister to Caleb. And soon, he will be baptized.

-------

December 24th, 1983

"This is an important message from the Crestwood police department. This is not a test. I repeat, this is not a test. The Crestwood police department has issued a Shelter-in-place Warning for the county of Crestwood until further notice. Reports of unknown figures have been confirmed by law enforcement and the Department of Babylonian Crusaders. For your safety, until 5 PM to 6 AM, stay home, lock all doors and windows and, in the event of a break-in, have access to a loaded weapon at all times. Do not call 911 unless you need to report an emergency. The Crestwood police department and the Department of Babylonian Crusaders thanks you for your cooperation.

Stay tuned for a message from the representative of the Department of Babylonian Crusaders."

"Hello. My name is Dr. Lloyd Evans from the Department of Babylonian Crusaders. We have been receiving reports of unknown organisms that we've decided to call mimics. You may have already gotten the alert from the EBS about this phenomenon, but we're here to tell you about what those mimic types are and what you can do to protect yourself.

The first type are the defensive mimics. They are a sub group of mimics that take on the role of a protector when they find a human. Some pose as aggressive mimics to ward off other humans or they deceive humans they perceive as harmful with their harmless look and kill them. Think of it as a predator camouflaging itself in order for them to eat their prey.

There are three types of defensive mimics. There are Batesian, Mullerian and Emsleyan or Mertensian mimics.

Batesian mimics are harmless. They pose as a harmful mimic to ward off anyone they tries to hurt them or their human.

Mullerian mimics are two or more mimics that advertise themselves as harmful to ward off predators. These mimics often work in groups of two or three.

Emsleyan or Mertensian mimics take the form of a less harmful mimic to deceive the predator and kill them.

These ones can be considered safe, but you should still be wary of them. Aggressive mimics are the ones you need to watch out for. Now, aggressive mimics are the type of mimic that pose as humans to kill them. These types use mind games to toy with their victims. If they haven't committed suicide, the mimic will finish the job.

Predators are a mimic group where they take the form of a loved one, deceive them into thinking they are the real person and then use psychological manipulation. Those are the most dangerous types of mimics and we strongly advise to avoid them at all costs.

Parasites are [REDACTED DUE TO SIGNAL GLITCH]

Now, here's what you can do to keep yourself safe. Stay in your homes after 6 PM, lock all windows and doors and keep a loaded weapon with you at all times. In the event of a mimic attack, follow the S.A.F.E. principle.

S - Secure yourself in a room.

A - Access the situation. Learn how the mimic operates.

F - Fire your weapon. If the mimic attacks, do not hesitate. It can mean life or death.

E - If possible, escape. Do not let them win.

We hope this message keeps you safe. We're very sorry for the interruption and we hope you have a Merry Christmas!"

Though this message was broadcasted to most TVs, some of them reported the S part saying something different. According to reports, it said "Surrender yourself to the Lord."

--------

1987

The young man's back was pressed up against the wall. The shotgun he had in his hands had one shell left. The creature that was at his door kept calling out to him in a mockery of his wife's voice.

"Ralphie... Please let me in... I'm sorry for sca-a-a-aring you back there. You know how I am."

His grip tightened. That wasn't her. That wasn't his wife. She was dead. And now, he was going to die too. His eyes started to fill with tears.

Marla... I'm so sorry... I couldn't protect you... I couldn't save you from these things.

The image of his wife sprawled out on the kitchen floor flashed in his mind. Her neck that was gushing blood... He swallowed, trying to hold back his vomit. They had followed the rules. They had done everything the broadcast said. What did they do wrong? They had to have done something wrong for something like this to happen.

He gritted his teeth. Pondering over this won't help him now. Remember the S.A.F.E. principle, Ralph. Remember.

He secured himself in his bedroom, grabbing his shotgun so he could protect himself. He analyzed the situation. The creature, the mimic, was trying to use his wife's voice to lure him out, using his nickname. Ralphie was what she would call him when he came home from work. The way she said it made his heart soar. However, when it said his nickname, it felt like nails on a chalkboard.

The high school sweethearts had moved into the rural Alabama town after they had gotten married in New York. They thought getting away from the bustling city life would help them. They were in the talks of starting a family when the broadcast came on, talking about reports of mimics.

"Talk about bad timing. On Christmas too." Marla had said while bringing out the cookies and milk. "Let's hope Santa gets there okay."

"I hope so too. But hey, look on the bright side. This lockdown will end at 6 AM tomorrow. We've still got time to celebrate, right?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Besides, anything's fun with you." She gave him a light peck on the cheek.

A low sob escaped him. There was so much they wanted to do together. So many things they had planned. Their entire life... They were now gone.

Oh Marla... Why did they have to take you? What did we do?

God, please... Please help me.

He wiped his face. No, crying and pleading to some higher being isn't gonna solve anything. I have to survive. I have to live on for Marla! If I can get out of here, I could alert the police.

With a sense of courage taking over, he pointed his shotgun at the door. The mimic had begun to claw at the door, no doubt leaving scratch marks in the wood. "Ralphie... Please... Let me in. It's so cold. My neck hurts. Help..."

"Shut up... You're not her..."

The doorknob rattled.

"You're not her. You're not her! You're not her!!"

There was a sudden loud banging making him jump. "Ralph, open the goddamn door! You'd really leave me out here with these things?! How could you?!" The thing screeched.

"You're! Not! Her! Leave me alone!! You killed her, you monster!! You're not- You're not her!" He screamed, tears streaming down his face. "Just try and get me! I dare you! I'll fucking shoot you if you try anything!"

"Ralph..." His 'wife' had begun to cry. Normally, it would cause him to go over and hug her, but he will not be swayed. What it was doing, it was disgusting. It's desecrating his wife's memory, his image, his everything. The nerve of the creature...

The door flew open, allowing Ralph to see the monster. Though it was hard to see through the darkness, what he could see made him freeze.

Its form was tall and lanky, its arms and legs stretched out to an almost inhuman degree. What little hair it had on its head was beginning to fall off. Its skin was beginning to sag. Ralph could swear he was beginning to see bones. The mimic looked at him with empty eyes yet it pierced his soul with an intense glare. It opened its mouth to speak, but all that came out were rasps and gargles.

Ralph began to shake, his aim wavering as he stared at... He didn't even know what he was seeing. It was human, but at the same time, it was not. It looked like his wife, but it was like looking at a decomposing carcass. The smell... It smelled like rotten eggs left out on the hot sidewalk. Bile threatened to come up his throat, but he held it in.

One shot. He had to make it count. If it failed...

The creature began to laugh. It was the kind of laugh that made you cringe. It was an ear-piercing, gurgling laugh that was like if you tried to imitate a toy clown on its last legs.

Ralph pressed his finger on the trigger. Taking a deep breath, he screamed out.

"I will not let you kill me!!"

The gun went off.

--------

2017

The group of kids stared at the small house as their two older brothers talked to the movers. The smallest one of the bunch hugged her teddy bear. Though leaving their home state of Florida didn't seem like a huge deal at first, Catherine still had her doubts. Sure, they were free from all the hurricanes, but they still had friends there. They still had people they could talk to.

But now, she and her brothers moved to a new town. There was no one she knew there. And there was... an abundance of churches. Lots and lots of churches.

@chibisrpblog

[occamstfs]

Man Of Your Dreams

Wallflower Dylan is gifted a new psychedelic from his friend. Used to watching frat bros from afar he finds the pill seems to affect far more than his mind.

Intended this to be plot light but so it goes! Probably going to take this week off to avail myself to other authors entering my Viral Transformation Challenge! The next story will likely be my own take on the theme so look forward to that next week alongside those from a litany of other stellar TF writers! Until then! -Occam

Dylan was fairly straight-laced, going into his senior year of university he hadn’t strayed much at all from class besides tagging along with his friend from high school to some of the more boisterous frat parties. Said friend Tony was quite more of a wild child, often invited himself because he was the source of some of the more illicit substances to be found at these parties. He’d invite Dylan whenever he’d need a more sober pair of eyes, namely if he was planning on rolling or otherwise getting high on his own supply. Despite his mild manner, Dylan always hopped on the chance, going to ragers was supposed to be part of the whole college deal right? And besides, he didn’t mind the chance to ogle brazen men he would under normal circumstances be fearful of making eye contact with.

Knowing of his friend’s meek disposition, and repressed hunger for the most vulgar of men, when Tony hears of a crazy new psychedelic on the market he has a feeling Dylan might finally let his hair loose. Reviews say the stuff makes reality feel like a waking dream. Anything seems possible and to your body it might as well be. Steamier sources swear that dreaming about sex on the stuff is even better than the real thing. Tony, never concerned about side effects of his material, gets straight to hitting up the usual channels to see what he can get and is able to scrounge up a single pill of the stuff. He wonders if he should try it out himself first before deciding he owes his friend at least first dibs.

Dylan is floored at how quickly he agreed to taking the pill. After initially being standoffish at Tony’s suggestion that he use it to fuck frat bros in his mind, once his friend started explaining what he’s heard Dylan couldn’t pass up the opportunity to really live out his fantasy. He’s not going to outgrow being a wallflower, nor is at all confident that any of the performatively masculine men would fuck him. Staring at the pill the only thing holding him back is Tony’s vapid instructions. ‘Just have a blast dude, fuck your way through those bros hah!’ Dylan’s asking about the side effects falls on deaf ears as Tony just crassly humps the air to try to convince his friend to go out on a limb. Despite his qualms and fears, and the lack of confidence inspired by Tony’s actions, Dylan feels sure that his friend wouldn’t give him something actually potentially dangerous.

Holding tight to that misplaced confidence, as soon as Tony departs Dylan pours himself a glass of water and chokes the pill down. The small tablet leaves a metallic taste in his mouth, quickly hidden by the copious amount of saliva and bile starting to rise in the back of his throat as he immediately feels the urge to vomit. Man of will despite appearances, he keeps it down and just as soon scowls as he thinks about the lack of preparation offered by his friend and prepares to tear into Tony as soon as the trip is over. Standing up he feels the room spinning around and murmurs in shock, “su- surely it’s shouldn- work this… fas-” He stumbles over to his bed and falls face down as he feels his body growing sweaty.

Before his well-practiced anxiety response can rise his mind is flooded with every pleasant hormone it’s able to produce. Every muscle in his body tenses and he feels his cock struggle to force itself erect in the awkward position he’s fallen in. Dylan moans as every sensation sends signals so intense and potent that his mind can barely maintain consciousness. Indeed he finds himself struggling to even hold his eyes open as his eyelids grow weighty. Even perfunctory bodily functions feel erotic as he begins to fade, the burning of cold air in his stretching lungs, the sound of his own heartbeat and the warmth of blood coursing through his veins. Drool immediately pools under his head as he crests into a stuporous induced unconsciousness, far too unprepared for what awaits him in his trip, and the new world he is to encounter afterwards.

Dylan is sitting in a chair across from a man he knows too well and not at all. Face to face with Ben Harrington, president of Beta Delta Alpha, Dylan has to push down the immediate rush of fear. Taking a breath he reminds himself that this is a dream, one that Tony swears he should have pretty lucid control over. As the president stands opposed, leaning on nothing he flexes his arms and the pastel button up Dylan usually sees him clad in changes into a t-shirt with the sleeves torn off. He smirks as he pushes sunglasses up his face and speaks in a tone intoxicated, under the influence of nothing but Dylan himself. His raspy voice sends a shiver down the meek man’s spine as he feels himself unable to retreat, “So, uhh, Dylan is it?” 

Approaching enough to touch him, Ben puts an arm over Dylan’s shoulder, exposing his clearly unwashed pit. Dylan takes a deep breath and forces his eyes closed from the burning over-stimulation of this man baring down on him. Still, from the sticky breath blowing across the face it's clear he is continuing to inch even closer, “You want me do you?” Dylan gulps as the man gets even closer, Ben’s lips almost touching his own, “Or do you just want to be me?” This takes Dylan out of it as he steps back away from the imposing man. Eyes opening he tries to manipulate the scene as Tony implied he should be able to. The Ben of his mind tilts his head and tsks, “‘Fraid you’re not the one in charge here after all.”

Ben closes the gap once more and throws his arm around the easily manhandled Dylan pulling his body against his own sweat stained form. He smirks and leans in directly to whisper something into the dreamer’s ear, “and if you do really wanna fuck me, well. You’re gonna have to become something more my type. Yeah?” Dylan blinks in surprise, he’s heard of bad trips and the like but something seems decidedly wrong here. Before he’s able to come to any cogent conclusion the dream Ben reaches down his free hand into Dylan’s pants. His sweaty hand instantly wraps around the smaller man’s balls and squeeze. Dylan hasn’t a chance to scream in shock he feels himself lose control. Of his body, his mind, and the world around him as he begins to fall back.

He’s humping the air as he’s falling into an abyss. He doesn’t feel the fear that this descent should evoke. Usually nightmares that turn this way immediately blast him back to consciousness, instead it fills him with adrenaline that only heightens the delight coursing out from his cock. Sure that he’s now laying face down in a pool of his own semen in the real world, Dylan does what he can to focus on the pleasure as intended. 

The sound of wind tearing past him makes him unable to hear his moaning screams as his clothes are shredded by the searing gale. Rapt in delight, the blaring gusts begin to slow. Air caresses him like a full body hug and suddenly he is deposited onto soft ground. Dylan doesn’t quite repose as his body continues convulsing. Cum begins to sprinkle down on him from the plethora of loads released during his descent and he finally finds wherewithal to paw at his crotch. Grasping at his balls he finds them unmistakably larger, “Wha?” No longer falling, Dylan opens his eyes and seems to be back in reality.

Dylan awakens and blearily rubs his eyes with clearly semen stained hands. “Oh what the, ugh- Am I awake?” His eyes take a few seconds to adjust to the lighting of a room that is decidedly not his bedroom. “Can’t be right?” Shaking the mess off his hands without a second thought he stands to his feet with a grunt and feels his cock bobbing, still impossibly rigid. His hands return to this turgid beacon before they almost happenstance fondle his balls. His sluggish mind struggles with how heavy and large they feel, nothing like the ones he has in reality. He smirks as the last words of Ben snake through his mind- “Become something more my type.” Who’d’ve thunk the president was into horndogs.”

Sniffing the air he begins to inspect the room surrounding him. Dirty clothes litter the floor and he finds a pervasive musk filling the air. Something in the back of his mind itches that there should be a can of axe around somewhere to cover it up, which he ignores for a number of reasons. He should be able to will the room to stop stinking. He certainly wouldn't do so with cheap body spray, and for the life of him he can’t bring himself to want to. Each deep breath of the stink he finds himself growing even hornier. Dylan feels his balls churning as he grasps them, he’s already cum a good number of times and yet he still craves release. 

He imagines the firm ass of a frat brother and leans against his dresser he uncontrollably begins to hump once more. Something flickers at the back of his mind yet again and he rips into an open drawer. Throwing clothes onto the pile of dirtied garments already littering the floor, Dylan removes a fleshlight which he proceeds to make exuberant use of. No time for his mind to question why he’s suddenly a top as his cock fills the sex toy more with every grunting thrust. 

Pubes scratch against his thumb as his crotch shifts into one that would instantly render a razor unusable. Likewise hair that has never even had to be controlled on his ass begins to thicken, growing itchy as a true jungle of curls begins to flourish on both sides of his waist. Soon enough his cock grows large enough that the toy is rendered unusable, with a furrowed brow and ungrateful grunt he tosses it to his room leaving it dripping on the floor as he somehow remains just as sexually unfulfilled as when he began, “Fuck I need the real thing…”

The real thing not present Dylan looks down at his cock and gasps as he sees what has become of his package. He doesn’t have a ton of sex but he usually keeps it clean and pretty hairless down there just for his own sake. Beyond the forest of pubes thick enough to get his hand stuck in, he covers his mouth in shock as he sees a veiny cock larger than he’s ever seen on a man with the low hanging massive balls to match. He does his best to focus up on anything besides how horny he is, but as pre continues to trickle from his hardened cock that becomes increasingly difficult. He bites his lip and looks past his throbbing cock at the floor. If he puts it away perhaps it’ll quiet of its own accord.

Dylan doesn’t pay heed to which clothes are clean or dirty as he throws on whatever best could hide his cock from his hands and mind. Nor could he notice just how far cleanliness and decency have fallen as priorities for him as he struggles to fit his package in clearly stained sweatpants. Itching at his waist as his pubes begin creeping up into a treasure trail racing to mee the spreading curls beginning to decorate his chest, his dull awareness finally notices that his whole body has begun changing. His thin arms have clearly put on powerful muscle from his mindless sessions of self-love, veins trailing down them make it difficult for him not to get straight back to masturbating at the thought of his own strength.

Similarly his eyes latch onto a chest that has somehow exploded into pecs without his knowing. Muscle that has never begun to grace his body now jiggles with every movement. He clenches his jaw hard trying to muster willpower not to give into his most basal urges, but as he feels his thighs fill the sweatpants he just threw on he wonders how long he could possibly hold out. His cluttered mind struggles to recall that he is on some kind of psychedelic trip as he fails to remember how long Tony said it would last. Instead swimming through dulling memories the voice of his, er, the frat president speaks up. “Ah god… You’re looking fucking good Big D. How’s your mind hangin’ in there?”

It takes a few moments for the words to sink in before Dylan can reply, “My, unh- mind?” His balls pulse as his eyes dash across the room while he struggles to think. God he’s been struggling to think this whole time. His cock lurches as he’s able to realize that every thought in his mind has been growing increasingly clouded. “Big D?” Dylan can’t help but smirk as his beyond impressive cock strains his sweatpants at being called Big D. He grunts as he tries to shake off the lusty delirium, “Need to chill out. Ugh. Sober up.” He hears the president tsk at him yet again, waiting with bated breath for the mans words his pecs bulge even larger on his chest. “Too late for that bro, just give in. Why have a trip into true unadulterated ecstasy when you can have a lifetime. You can finally be the man of your dreams.” 

As soon as the words of Ben, his president, are spoken in his mind it becomes clear that Big D doesn’t even have the ability to fight back against the ever-present urges that now control his body. He tears off the sweatpants that were barely holding in there as he fully give himself to whatever is calling out for him, the drug, Ben Harrington, whatever. His body bulks beyond measure to become man enough to carry the vulgar package that lies in his crotch. He masturbates into the leg of his sweatpants torn asunder as his torso bulks up, evidence of his endless celebrations as a man of Beta Delta Alpha.

Bestial body hair begins to cover his torso as his beard grows thick and dark. The tangle of hair in his pits thickens and spreads enough that it, nor it’s dominating musk, could ever be hidden. Muscle bulges on his arms large enough to haul kegs and toss out fuckers that get to rowdy at their festivities. Beyond apathetic to manicuring his appearance as he knows he’ll have people lining up at his doorstep regardless of needless things like hygiene or cleanliness he rubs his thick sweat covered thighs and feels how sensitive every inch of his skin has become. 

He smirks as he imagines, recalls rather, how constantly he gets to enjoy the sensual opportunities offered by his new form. He’s got all he needs dangling between his thick thighs and everyone who matters already knows it. The president certainly does. Big D smirks as he thinks of their vacations together on the frat’s dime. He puts his arms behind his head and sniffs his musky pits as he lays in repose, a thick cloud of musky sweat surrounds him as he begins to hear the sound of festivities breaking out on the floor below him and someone’s fervent footsteps racing up the stairs to his den.

Suddenly there’s a knock at the door and Big D imagines that some couple is looking for an empty room with urgency. He paws at his crotch excited to join in on their fun. Instead he sees some nervous looking guy who freezes as soon as he sees the behemoth, fear in his eyes. “D-Dylan!? I- That drug, there was something, something s-” He stutters and his hands shake as Big D rolls his eyes and stands almost two heads taller than he should over Tony, one of their frat’s little party drug dealers. Still, he wouldn’t have come up here for no reason. Big D silences him with a finger and slams the door shut behind him. Tony’s brow furrows as he looks around the room in confusion. Even his perpetually drug-addled mind can tell something unreal, something impossible has happened to his friend. “That pill can’t have done this right?” Tony takes nervous breaths and Big D’s musk rapidly fills his lungs, distracting him from whatever petty issue brought him in. Who cares about concern when his small cock is beginning to rise from simply standing near the priapic titan.

Big D’s voice rumbles through Tony, making him weak at the knees, “You wanna have some fun don’t you?” The drug dealer can’t help but nod and swallow the drool pooling in his mouth as the bestial Adonis stands over him, cock dripping ever-ready for another round. Tony isn’t sure if he’s started tripping himself or what, but as he begins making out with the frat bro he finds himself not minding as memories of whoever Dylan was disappear. After all pleasure is the most important thing, and no one is better at spreading heady delight than Big D.

[bearforcecaptions]

The spell worked, sort of, but not how I wanted. I did have the body of my dreams – I was Garrett now, but I didn’t realize the catch was that I wouldn’t be able to control what I’m doing unless I’m totally alone. And Garrett, or, me, I guess – I’m nearly never alone! The frat house pretty much always has someone in it, and I’m super popular, too. I thought being Garrett would be fun and easy, but stuck like this, it’s torture!

I figured out the ritual from this old book I found at that occult shop downtown, thinking it would be a quick way out of my boring life and into something… well, something way more interesting. Garrett had it all, or so I thought. Girls loved him, he was in the best shape, and everyone wanted to be his friend. But nobody told me about this weird restriction, or maybe I just didn’t read that part carefully enough. I guess the idea was I’d “experience” Garrett’s life, but it’s like watching a movie, except I’m the star and I can only move on my own terms when no one else is around.

And god, my roommate, he’s actually so stupid. When I can’t control my actions, we bro out all the time, but he’s so vapid. I guess I’m not much better, but it’s actually infuriating. You’d think we could have a conversation that’s not about girls, parties, sports, or video games. But no, every time he starts talking, it’s like Garrett’s body just falls right into the rhythm of it, responding automatically. I tried fighting it at first, but it’s like this autopilot takes over, and I’m just... stuck.

I’ve been scouring the room whenever I get a chance to control things, like right now, looking for any sign or clue on how to undo this. There has to be something I missed. I rummaged through his messy closet, which is packed with clothes, gym stuff, and random junk, none of it useful. The guy keeps his stuff in total chaos, and I feel weirdly exposed, like I’m actually pawing through my own things.

Shit, no, is that the door jangling? I thought I would have a couple of hours to try and figure out how to fix this. Who the hell knows when I’ll get another chan-

Fuuck, bro. Why’s my roomie home early? Thought he went to his ‘rents for the weekend. I was just about to jerk one out too. Ah well, maybe he’ll be down for some Call of Duty or something. I could use a beer.

“Yo, dude, what’s up? You back already?” I say, grinning like an idiot as I lean against the door frame, flexing a bit without even realizing it. Dude probably thinks I’m just chillin’, but nah, I’m feelin' like a boss.

He laughs, dropping his bag by the door and shrugging. “Yeah, man, got bored at home. Figured I’d head back early. Parents were driving me nuts.”

“Oh, for sure, dude,” I nod, grabbing a can of beer from the mini-fridge by my bed. “Parents, am I right? They just don’t get it, bro.” I crack it open, chugging half of it in one go, feeling the cool rush. Damn, that’s good.

He slaps my shoulder, laughing. “Dude, I swear, it’s like every time I go back, it’s the same speech about responsibility and blah blah blah. Like, whatever, right?”

“Oh, totally, man,” I laugh, shrugging it off. “Why they gotta be like that, y’know? We’re just out here living, they don’t get it.” I toss him a beer, feeling that chill vibe kickin’ in, like nothing in the world matters but just hanging with my bro. This is what it’s all about – no worries, no drama, just cold beers and good times.

“Bro, I’m feelin’ a COD sesh,” I say, grabbing the controller off the couch. “You down?”

He grins. “Hell yeah, let’s wreck some noobs.”

We crash down on the couch, controllers in hand, beers in easy reach, and it’s like all the worries in the world just melt away. I’m trash-talkin’, throwin’ down taunts, and we’re both laughing so hard my sides hurt. I don’t even remember the last time I felt this alive.

“You’re so bad, dude,” I laugh, jabbing him in the ribs as I get another kill. “How are you still this bad?”

“Shut up, bro!” he shoves me back, laughing too, and I’m grinning like an idiot.

Fuck, life is good, I think, as I take a gulp of my beer. I got my bros, I got my beer, and I got my games. What more does a dude need? Life’s good.

[mnnuni]

Domestic

Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean's perspective of Sam and Reader's relationship; Sam and Reader are two cutie patooties Words: 1450 Warnings: none, very fluffy Author's note: I actually don't know if I love this or I hate it

A solid faithful relationship into the hunters' field was almost rare: if they were married they were either consummed for loss or full of affairs and if they had boyfriends or girlfriends they will fight for the distance or the different visions of life. And then there was the rarity, the true love cases, the one in which they would share their life of hunters as easily as a piece of bread.

Dean Winchester never really believed in those rareness, never really believed in love in general... that was untill he really saw Sam and (Y/N) together.

Their love started slowly, it was one of that things that people would say "we already knew" when they eventually announced their relationship.

Dean was convinced that Sam's heart decided from the very beginning of their story that he would beat out of his ribcage only for her in his entire life; Dean saw it in the way Sam didn't just pass (Y/N) the milk and sugar for her coffee for her second cup of that day on their first case together, but he put them in her mug while she read out loud some articles for Dean. Sam didn't put much thougth in that action, but when she realized (Y/N) blushed because he remebred the exact order and amount of products she used after only one time.

But Dean also knew that he approved of their relationship when it was him that proposed to Sam to pick the impala and take (Y/N) somewhere special, just because she deserved all the effort his brother could put in a date and even more. Sam wasn't so surprised about that because he also saw how Dean had grown fond of (Y/N), to the point she was the only girl ever that didn't receive the "hurt my brother and I will end you" speech but it was the other way around.

When (Y/N) confined in Dean one night he really wasn't expecting what she was telling him, after more than an year of being officially with Sam.

"I know he loves me" that was her premise, and Dean could have screamed "WE ALL KNOW" but he let her keep going "but sometimes i whish things were easier" at this the Whinchester quirked an eyebrow and Y/N started rumbling then "I'm not saying it isn't easy with Sam, I just want to say that ... there's never a period of peace in our kind of lifes and we all accepted this when we decided to be hunters, but sometimes I find myself of dreaming one night together without running from something or cleaning up eachother scars... I need normality"

Dean knew that this was also Sam's dream, his little brother wanted this since Stanford, but he also knew that both of them needed to hunt because that was what gave them the hope to make the world a better place and the adrenaline that every man and every woman would need to go throu life.

After this conversation with (Y/N), Dean almost ran to Sam to order him to organize something special for his lady; he wasn't surprised to find him already writing a list of things he wanted to do with her, "I know I didn't give her the right amount of attention these past weeks, shoul I go for a picnic or romantic restaurant?". Dean tried not to smile at his answer, even if he really admired how Sam could know how his girlfriend felt withouth even say anithing and his commitment to their relationship; "The picnic is cute, but not for this time of the year. No reastaurant. She needs something calm, be domestic dude"

He left him like this to think of something, he was sure his brother would have find the right thing.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day Sam was adjusting one of the bunker's biggest room, he bought a projector and a too big amount of movies -even if he thought that he could never do too much for (Y/N)-

He asked Dean to help him put her favorite couch in there and order a lot of her favourite snacks.

Dean was really proud of how Sam behaved with (Y/N) and for (Y/N), never saw him so whipped for no-one.

When (Y/N) got out of her shower, she was ready to jump into Sam's bed and sleep for two days if she could; instead she found Dean in the kitchen with a blindfold in his hands, "I promise, you will lovee what you'll see after this" he winked and then put it on her face.

"I swear to God Dean, if you're tricking me..." they were walking a pat she never did in the bunker "oh please you love me too" "if you think so...", Dean stopped her in front of a purple metal door and took the blindfold off "oh i know so" he whispered and then proceeded to walk away from there.

(Y/N) was left to wonder what the hell was going on when Sam opened said door and smiled "Hi", it had the same emotion he carried during their first date, (Y/N) smiled too and got on her tiptoes to give him a light kiss. He grabbed her hand and walked her into the room, she would have cried if she realized sooner everything there was in that room.

"You did all this for me?!"

It was clear in her voice that she was emotional in that moment and Sam hated the fact that she underestimated her value for him, "baby, that's nothing. Perhaps I should have done something sooner when I first started to notice you needed some time alone" "thank you". Sam smiled and gave her a kiss.

When they finally settled onto the couch (Y/N) was analyzing every detail there was in Sam's preparation: he put three blankets on the couch 'cause he knew he was too tall to tall for them both be covered entirely just by one and also added few pillows because (Y/N) loved the fluffy feeling of them while watching a movie; he made a little table with every kind of chips the market sold and four bottles of her favorite soda, on the shelf under it there were two or three packages of cookies too. Sam also organised something like fifteen movies, all divided by genre and number of stars (Y/N) gave them when they first talked about it.

Sam chose the first movie of the night -obviously a musical- and settled next to his girlfriend. She was so fucking happy about all Sam had done for her.

(Y/N) put her head on his chest while Sam's arm was around her shoulders, drawing figures on her arms to make her relax some more.

Dean snuck in after the first two songs of the musical and rested with one shoulder leaned on the doorframe to look at them: they were adorable. At first when they were on their honeymoon phase Dean felt the need to puke every two seconds, but now he loved to look at them from afar and be happy of their happiness

(Y/N) lifted her head to look at Sam: he was so focused on the screen,the lights of the scenes illuminated his face in a way that made his eyes sparkle.

"I love you", she whispered and Sam's face turned instantly. She still blushed when Sam looked at her that way, "and I love you".

Dean didn't see the kiss because he closed the door immediately after his brother said those words, that was another of the things that made Dean root for them: they never said "I love you too", like they had to say it just because or to not be in an embarrassing situation; every time they proclaimed their love for eachother they made sure to let the other know how much they actually loved eachother and how they really believed in what they said with that "I love you".

Sam and (Y/N) watched another movie and a documentary, they finished almost all the chips and sodas. After about the half of the documentary (Y/N) fell asleep snuggled up to Sam, who was massaging her head -he already knew that after one cookie she was about to pass out, so he made sure to get her in the most comfortable position and help with his hands in her hair to allow the sleep to finally set-

Dean never got back in that room, because he knew that they would have fallen asleep eventually. He made himself a burger and drank one too many beers, but it didn't matter because that night Dean too slept so well knowing that his brother and his sister were okay.

[prod-ddeonu]

UNDER THE COVER | s.jy

MDNI! MDNI! MDNI!

pairing: librarian!Jake x fem!reader

cw/tw: librarian!Jake, badboy!Jake, smut, fluff, mentions of assault and sa, drugs, sex in a public building, pet names, praise, face fucking, masturbation, kissing, mentions of murder (one line)

synopsis: Love was never your goal, preferring to keep your nose in a book while sitting in an isolated corner of your favorite library. But then you met Jake Sim: the quiet librarian who wore sweaters and button downs, the man who treated every book like a treasure, the man that you felt was perfect for you. You knew better than to judge a book by its cover, but who would have known your quiet library crush was the exact opposite of what you'd expected?

featuring: jay and sunghoon (iconic bffs!)

wc: ~6.9k

PART 2

Buy me a Ko-fi!

“Finals are kicking my ass, man,” Sunghoon stretched his arms above his head as he dramatically groaned.

Jay nodded, his notes every shade of the rainbow from his color coded highlighting method of studying. “You can say that again,” he capped the red highlighter and put it behind his ear.

“Finals are kicking my ass, man,” Sunghoon repeated, laughing when Jay threw the yellow highlighter at him.

The two turned to you, your head falling as your eyes began to shut. “Y/N!” Jay shouted. Sunghoon pressed his finger against his mouth and shushed him. “Piss off, Hoon. We're in a soundproofed study room,” Jay sneered.

Your head shot up, hands flying into the table to catch yourself. “The proper function is forty-four,” you mumbled as your eyes opened. “Oh, sorry. I had a dream I had already taken the final,” you rubbed your eye with your wrist.

Sunghoon put his hand over your forehead. “Y/N, if you don't sleep enough, your score’s gonna be a forty-four,” he said, his tone laced with worry.

You smiled, pinching the bridge of your nose. Sunghoon ran his hand over the ponytail you held your hair in, bringing the hair over his head. “Jay, you think I could work long hair?”

“I don't even think you can work basic algebraic equations,” he scoffed. Sunghoon frowned, sitting back upright.

He looked at his notes before groaning in agony. “I'm done for the night, guys. It's, like, seven at night and I'm tired,” he whined.

“Yeah, I think I'm gonna head home, too. You coming, Y/N?” Jay asked as the two stood, packing their notes and pencils.

You shook your head. “No, I'm gonna get a little bit of reading therapy in,” you smiled, thinking of your favorite character.

The two boys looked at each other with a raised brow. Sunghoon wiggled his at Jay, the other returning the action to create some sort of impromptu language. “Are you sure it's therapeutic reading?” Jay asked tenderly.

“Or is it ‘I wanna fuck that hot librarian’?” Sunghoon finished the point, sliding onto the table in front of you.

Your ears turned red, the mental image Sunghoon painted making you sweat. The two burst into laughter, clapping loudly and pointing at you. “She totally does! Y/N has a crush!” Jay shouted.

You slapped your hand over his mouth. “It's soundproof in here, not a solitary confinement cell! They can definitely hear your walrus laughter!”

Jay faked shock, slapping his hand against his chest and holding the table for support.

Ignoring him, Sunghoon leaned his elbows against the table next to you. “So, whatcha likin’ about this dude?”

You squeaked. “I- um-”

Jay returned to his position on the other side of you, his hand on your shoulder. “Is he loud, badass, smokes a lot of weed and parties all night, muscle tees and ripped jeans, maybe a print-”

“Alright, alright!” You shouted. “Remind me to put some soap in your mouth, Jay,” you wagged your finger in his face. He snapped his jaw at you, following your finger. “He's the exact opposite, actually. He's quiet, really kind, he’s not into the party scene, he doesn't wear anything too showy-”

“So he's just like you?” Sunghoon interrupted, pulling the edge of his sweater onto his shoulder.

You nodded, a cheesy grin coming over your lips. “And how do you know all this?” Jay raised his brow. “I doubt you've hung out with him.”

“I can just tell,” you sighed dreamily. You kicked your feet underneath you in excitement.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “Ah, yes. Because you read minds.”

Jay clicked his tongue at you, crossing his arms. “Y/N, did nobody ever tell you not to judge a book by its cover?” He asked. “What if you get your hopes up, and then you find out that he's some rager that breaks your heart?”

You shook your head. “I don't think so, he seems pretty genuine from the way he looks.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes playfully again, “Delusion is one of your few flaws, Y/N. Your other one is reading for fun.”

You sat with your knees against your chest in a small corner of the library. The seating arrangement in that corner was a long, wooden bench that wrapped around the corner of the room. You liked to sit against the corner, your back to the wall and feet facing the shelves in front of you.

In the book you were reading, the main character had gone out with her boss in order to escape her manipulative boyfriend and catch him cheating. Her boss was icy, tall, and young. You'd barely managed to catch it, but it seemed that he was younger than her. The main character was a happy woman who let her naïvety get the best of her, which her boss had helped her get past.

You were in the scene where her boss confesses to her, but you weren't sure where the story was going. He told her he was falling in love with her, which she reciprocated, but he was holding her so close, and the word “heat” and “member” kept appearing in sentences.

You saw a shadow loom over you, shading your book from the light. A large hand rested on top of the book, tilting it back. “Are you enjoying the book so far?” A deep voice with a thick accent asked.

You nodded, not looking up. “It's really good, I'm just a little confused as to what's happening. I don't know who this member is and why they're so hot, but it doesn't make sense for her to be kissing them and not the main guy,” you rambled.

The person let out a deep chuckle. “Cute,” he said under his breath. “This is my favorite part, actually. If you don't know what all of that means, though, maybe you should skip that scene. It's not really important to the plot, anyways,” he continued.

The dim light above you bounced off of his rings, his long finger tapping on the spine of the book lightly in a fidgeting manner.

“I want to know what it means,” you sighed. “Can you explain it to me?”

When the person didn't respond, you looked upwards. Your breath caught in your throat as you squeaked.

The librarian you'd been harboring a secret crush on stood above you, his mouth slightly agape and his cheeks pink. His eyes grew wider with shock the longer you looked into them.

You turned back to the book, your eyes not really reading any words. “I can figure it out myself, sorry,” you whispered.

The man scratched the nape of his neck, a shy laugh leaving his lips. “No, it's okay, that scene is just…”

“Just what? Confusing?”

“Just not something you'd want a stranger to explain.”

“If you love the book, though, wouldn't you be good at explaining it?” You asked, curiosity bubbling up inside you.

He took the book from your hands, folding the corner of the page you were on and closing it. “Let me go check this out for you. I'll tell you at the counter, then you can read the rest at home, ‘kay?”

You nodded, willing to do anything he suggested. He walked you to his counter, scanning the book. “That scene you were reading is probably one of the most well-written sex scenes a reader could ask for,” he casually commented, smirking when you covered your mouth. “You can Google the words you don't know, but tell me if you still enjoyed the book when you return it!”

He placed the book in your bag, waving to you and leaning against the counter.

You sound around, mouth open to speak. “Name’s Jake, by the way,” he smiled handsomely at you, nodding his head up once. “I was gonna introduce myself to you properly, but you kinda jumped the gun on that one, miss sex book girl.”

You blushed, looking away in embarrassment. “You don't have to call me that,” you barely whispered.

“Yeah?” He poked his tongue at his lip with a teasing smile. “What can I call you, then?”

“Y/N,” you looked at the floor before spinning around and walking to the door.

Jake waved behind you, a smile still prevalent on his face. “Have a safe night, Y/N,” he called out behind you. “Hope you enjoy your book!”

Oh, you enjoyed that book alright. With Jake’s words looming in your head, and a trusty Google search (turned out, member did not mean another character), you finished the book with a foggy mind and a whole lot of nervous swallows.

Jay and Sunghoon sat across from you at your local cafe, your bag on the table and notes strewn about. “Hoon, I think you should change majors,” Jay sighed, his palm against his forehead.

Sunghoon chewed his straw nervously while the other reviewed his notes and practice exam. “Why? I thought I was good with my pre-med stuff,” he grabbed the paper from Jay’s hands.

“‘What do you call a row of stitches holding together the edges of an incision?’ was the question, Hoon.”

He looked it over. “I don't see what I did wrong.”

You peeked your head up from your notes, reading the question. “You wrote ‘satire,’” Jay deadpanned. Sunghoon cursed under his breath and erased the answer, writing suture in its place.

“Could've sworn I put suture for that,” Sunghoon mumbled. You pat his back reassuringly, a small frown on his face. “I think I'm just burning out, I've been studying all of this for so long. Jay, gimme your card, I'm gonna go buy us a round of espresso.”

Jay swatted Sunghoon’s reaching arm away. “Dude, no! Use your card, I'm not rich,” he scoffed.

“Oh my gosh, Jay, please,” you whined. “I'm so tired, I barely slept last night.”

Jay’s brow flew to the top of his forehead, the corner of his lip lifting. “Is it because of a certain librarian you stayed late to see?” He lightly punched your shoulder jokingly.

You held your shoulder and cried out in pain dramatically. “C’mon, Jay, you owe her now,” Sunghoon waved his fingers at Jay to make a grabbing motion. Jay sighed, rolling his eyes and giving the card to him. “First round’s on Jay!”

Sunghoon skittered off to the counter to order the drinks, leaving Jay to interrogate you further.

He scooted his chair closer to yours, his arms folded over his chest. “So,” he started, “what's the reason you were up all night?”

You squeaked nervously. He laughed, placing his hand over yours softly. “I was reading a book Jake said was good,” you almost whispered.

Jay shot backwards into his seat, letting out a loud gasp of shock and earning concerned stares from the rest of the customers. You shushed him, to no avail. He spun in his chair, calling out to his friend. “Hoon! Hoon!”

Sunghoon turned to face him with a scowl. “What?” He mouthed.

“She got the hot librarian’s name!” He shouted, not caring whose morning he disturbed.

Sunghoon ran out of line, sliding back into the chair across from you and resting his hand against his chin. “Soooo,” Sunghoon dragged out, “what's his naaaame?”

You shrunk into your seat. “It’s, um-”

“It's Jake!” Jay shouted, leaning over the table.

Sunghoon and Jay brought their hands together, ooh-ing in a high pitched tone as they wiggle their fingers. “Anything else happen? Did he hold the door open for you?” Sunghoon swooned at you.

You shyly laughed. “No, he just told me to read this book,” you blushed, pulling it out of your bag. “He told me what some of it meant, and it really helped!”

Jay flipped the book open to the folded corner, reading a paragraph quickly. He closed the book, furrowed his brows, reopened the book, re-read the paragraph, and turned to you, pointing at the pages as he let his mouth hang open. “He told you what this meant?”

You nodded, blushing. “I was a little embarrassed, but he was super nice about it,” you crossed your ankles and swayed slowly.

Jay shut the book and slid it into your bag, Sunghoon reaching in and pulling it out as he turned.

“Y/N, my dearest, sweetest, bestest friend,” he placed his hand on your shoulder with a smile. Suddenly, his grip turned hard, squeezing into your collarbone. “HE IS FLIRTING WITH YOU!” He seethed.

You swatted his hand away. “Then what do– ow, that actually hurts still– I do?”

Jay peacefully made a tent with his hands against the table. He blew his bangs out of his face, the brunette pieces flying upwards. “You go back there, and you ask him out,” Jay smirked evilly. “And then, you come back and relay everything to us.”

You nodded, saluting and grunting in comprehension.

Sunghoon gasped loudly, causing you and Jay to whip your heads to him.

He slammed the book against the table, scattering Jay’s highlighters and your pencils. “THIS IS A SEX BOOK?!” He shouted.

You blushed while Jay put his hand to his mouth in order to stifle his laughter. Sunghoon slowly turned to you, disgust apparent on his face. “You're such a nerd you read porn?”

“Hey, man. She reads it for the plot,” Jay snickered.

After your embarrassing exchange with your friends, you went back to the library to return the book (and stare at Jake). You held the book in front of you, sad to part with it. Jake had opened a door to a new world that you'd never heard of: the world of erotic romance books.

You blushed at the thought of the genre being his favorite. Swinging the door open, you took in the scent of paper, dust, and the slight hint of lavender you always caught when you walked in. Your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting.

Jake scanned a book at the counter for a woman, his long, black hair being accessorized by his usual pair of round, metal-rimmed glasses.

You watched silently from in front of the door as he performed such a melancholy task in such a charming way. The sleeves of his blue pullover came to the edges of his palm, his white turtleneck beneath covering his skin. You watched his pouty lips curve into your favorite smile, a slight wink being thrown to the older woman.

The woman slipped the book into her bag, giggling and walking towards the door. Jake’s eyes met your own, a happy wave being sent your way.

You felt yourself begin to melt at the sight.

You waved back, walking towards where he was standing. You placed the book into the counter as he smiled at you. He laughed lightly. “Guess it wasn't your cup of tea, seeing as you're bringing it back the next morning?”

You shook your head, “The opposite, actually. I finished it all last night, I just couldn't put it down!” You smiled.

Jake raised a brow, putting his elbow onto the countertop and resting his chin in his palm. “Yeah?” He asked with a thick accent. “What made it so enjoyable?”

This is the flirting Jay was talking about, you thought to yourself.

You bit the tip of your tongue, looking around the room in thought. What could you say to add to the flirting? You hadn't been in a serious relationship in years, you had little to no current experience.

“I guess I really liked the main character's chemistry with her boss,” you smiled at him, “and how he had a different side to his character that he only showed her.”

Jake nodded, leaning back and rocking onto the heels of his feet. He slid the book across the counter with a low whistle escaping his lips. “You're the first person I've met that tried to find something romantic in this book.”

You mentally facepalmed yourself. “Is that not what I was supposed to do? The writing was really good, I just-”

“Hey, hey,” he laughed. “Don't worry your pretty self over that, I think it's cool that you didn't just admire the smut aspect of the book,” he scanned the barcode on the back cover and placed the book onto a cart.

“I did enjoy that part a little, it just felt awkward to read,” you lied. You actually re-read that section of the book three times after finishing the book.

Jake’s tongue swiped across his bottom lip to wet it with a smile. He walked around the counter, pushing his book cart in the direction of the young adult section of the library.

You turned to walk to your usual corner of the library, ready to surrender this golden opportunity to your awkwardness. You took a step forward, spinning back around quickly as Jake coughed.

You made eye contact as his mouth opened to speak. “Can I have your number?” You blurted out.

Jake’s mouth shut with squinted eyes. Rejection.

“Can you read my mind or something?” He asked.

You shot him a confused look, a toothy grin splayed across his face. “I was-” He cleared his throat nervously, “I was just thinking about how I wanted to ask you to hang out after I close up, sorry if it came out weird.”

You felt clouds lift your feet, making them take even steps before landing in front of him with your phone out. He chuckled as he put his number into your phone. “Doesn't this place close late, though?” You asked.

He nodded. “It closes at nine, but if I'm being honest, fun never really happens until after dark.”

You laughed, thinking he was joking. He was not.

He shrugged, continuing to push the cart. “Just text me your address, I'll pick you up. I'll make sure it's a date that you'll never forget,” he smiled.

Your heart soared. It raced. It pounded. More importantly, it stopped. Time stopped. “Date?” You squeaked out.

He laughed, his ears turning red. “Yeah, I figured it should be a date. Don't wanna waste a good time with a pretty girl like you, y'know?” He scratched the back of his neck.

You nodded eagerly. “It's a date! What do I wear?”

“Just some comfortable clothes, you don't have to do much to impress me. I'll be wearing what I usually do, anyways,” he placed a book onto the shelf, examining the next book.

You walked to the cart, grabbing a book from the other side. “I know it's not very romantic, but can I help you put away the books? It might help you close faster,” you smiled.

He pulled the cuffs of his pull-over off of his hands. “I find it very romantic that you want to do the most boring part of my job with me, actually,” he joked.

That same lavender scent you would get hints of came flooding your senses as the two of you worked closely. You closed your eyes, taking a long breath. Jake smelled like lavender, and god, it made your knees weak.

Jay and Sunghoon, although strongly against the date, showed up to your place at seven sharp to help you get ready for it. “I mean, what kind of guy asks a kind and unsuspecting girl to go out after nine?” Sunghoon asked as he curled your hair.

He looked up into the mirror, eyes locking on yours. “A sex offender,” He released your hair from the contraption, waving the wand in the air as he spoke.

Jay groaned as he laid different outfit combinations across your bed. “For the tenth time, Sunghoon, he wouldn't be able to work at a public library if he was a registered sex offender!” Jay tapped his toes in thought before throwing a red shirt of yours onto the growing pile of clothes on your floor.

“Maybe he's not a sex offender yet,” Sunghoon replied, “but our little Y/N could end up being the body they find in the ditch.”

You sighed as Jay struggled to not throw a hard object at his friend. Sunghoon and Jay had been going at it since they arrived, Sunghoon erring more on the “worried mother” end of the argument.

“Sunghoon, stop worrying so much. He's super cute and sweet, he probably just wants to watch a movie or something,” you smiled.

Sunghoon clicked his tongue. “Let's recall what he said. ‘Wear something comfortable’, because tight clothes cause you to bleed out slower. ‘A date you'll never forget’, because you'll be dead by eleven.”

“‘I just want to have sex with you and then send you home at four in the morning,’” Jay commented. “You make it sound like she's going out with Michael Myers. Don't forget, Hoon, she already agreed to share her location with us in the groupchat.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, running his fingers through your curls. “So we'll know what corner of the road her body ends up on, but what about her head?”

“Oh, God, you're going off the deep end,” you pressed your hand to your forehead.

You stood from the chair, doing a small twirl for the two. You had already done your makeup before the two arrived, but you were a lost cause with fashion and hair.

Jay clapped, his lower lip jutting out in an impressed expression. “Wow, Hoon. Maybe you should drop out of college and become a hairdresser,” he commented, earning a threatening jab with the hot iron from Sunghoon.

You unplugged the appliance, taking it from his hands and carefully placing it down. Jay held a shirt and skirt to your body, nodding for the other man to look at the combination.

Sunghoon patted the man on his back, a smile on his face. “See, if I had to send my only daughter off to possibly go missing, this is the outfit I think she'd want to go in.”

You walked out of your door at exactly a quarter past nine, Jake’s text message reminding you of a drunk message from Jay.

Hey um he uh, um out sigh in the blocker period sore we eve this cumster you we're, um using speech to text period

You figured it translated roughly to, “Hey, I'm here, I'm outside in the black car. Sorry if this comes to you weird, I'm using text to speech.” You just couldn't figure out where cumster could've come from.

You giggled as you sat in the car. Your purse clinked loudly with the pepper spray, pocket knife, seatbelt cutter, lockpick, whistle, and body reflectors Sunghoon wouldn't let you leave without.

You closed the door, turning to Jake. You audibly screamed when you saw the man in the front seat. He jumped, looking into the backseat and out of every window. “Shit, Y/N, what's wrong?!” He shouted, equally as scared as you.

You looked at him in disbelief. “Jake? Is that really you?”

The man who was sitting next to you was wearing a black wife-beater and baggy jeans with large tears at the knees, a small book pendant hanging off a gold chain. His body, now uncovered by layers of clothing, was covered by layers of ink. He had a paw print on his inner arm, the name Layla written inside of it, along with many music tattoos and smaller symbols across his arms and chest.

You looked down, noting that it seemed even his legs had art on them. His eyes followed yours, a small gasp leaving his mouth. “Oh, yeah. Guess I forgot to mention all that,” he smiled. “They're everywhere, but they all mean something.”

You looked up at him, your eyes wide. You may have painted him as a modest man, but you'd be lying if you said the Jake in front of you didn't make you feel butterflies. “They're pretty,” you commented, reading the tattoo on the side of his neck.

“Love is a great beautifier.”

Jake self-consciously ran his hand over it. “It's from Little Women,” Jake smiled softly.

“I love that book,” you commented, continuing to admire his look. His hair had fallen messily over his forehead, his glasses seeming to have disappeared.

He sucked a breath in through his teeth. “Me too, actually. It's what got me into reading,” he looked forward as he put his seatbelt back on. “Look, if you find that I look too weird like this, I can put a jacket on or something-”

“No! I like it, actually. You look… good,” you blushed as you put your seatbelt on.

Jake reached his hand under your chin, lifting your head to look at him. “Look me in my eyes and say it again,” the corner of his lip lifted. “I want to see you say it, don't hide your face from me.”

You mumbled, “You look good.”

“I'll take it,” he smiled fully, throwing the car into drive and pulling into the road. “Just know, I don't let pretty girls hold their tongue around me.”

You looked out the window in an effort to hide your nervousness. Jake turned his radio on, playing a band you didn't know.

He started humming along to the song as it got closer to the chorus. He had a beautiful voice, which only added to your nervousness.

“Where are we going?” You asked, noticing a familiarity in the direction he was driving in.

He tested his elbow against his center console as he drove with one hand. “I figured I could take you to the library after hours, y'know? We'd be alone but it wouldn't be like you didn't know the place. I can show you my favorite spot, too.”

You shot a glance in his direction. “Jake, isn't it closed?”

“Yeah, and?”

“As in, we can't be there?”

“Yes we can,” he smiled.

You rolled your eyes. “If you're trying to break into a building, I think we should call this off.”

“Relax, sweetheart,” he laughed, his accent shining through, “it's not breaking in.”

“Entering with a key doesn't count.”

“It does when you own the place,” Jake pulled up to a stop light, wiggling his eyebrows at you before laughing loudly. Your jaw was to the floor, an unreadable expression in your eyes. “I've never made it obvious that I owned it, because it was given to me by my grandmother when she retired, but I've owned it since I moved here. My cousin opens the place on weekdays while I go to college, but I close every night and spend the whole weekend there.”

“You'd have to live there to pull that off,” you rolled your eyes.

“I do,” he responded. “My place is right next to it.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Of course you're handsome, funny, good at singing, and you own a business.”

You felt his hand land on your leg, his fingers tapping rhythmically to the music. You turned to him, your eyes trailing up his arm. “You can continue,” he said with a shit-eating grin.

You lightly hit his arm, pointing to the road. “Light's green,” you turned to hide your blush.

Jake walked you into the familiar building, a small smile on his face as he pulled a projector from the office room. “Come and sit down, pretty girl,” he plugged a handful of cords into the device and turned it on.

You walked past the nonfiction shelves to see pillows forming small seats on the floor, a basket of movie snacks and drinks in the middle. Jake had thrown some last minute fairy lights into the mix, wrapping them around the seating area and putting some candles on the ground. “Jake, this looks amazing.”

He sat on a pillow before laughing and motioning to the other. You ran over, sitting down and immediately putting on a movie.

You didn't watch a single moment of the movie. Although Jake seemed immersed, you couldn't take your eyes off of him. Your eyes took in the slight shine against his skin from the movie, the light in his eyes looking like stars. You didn't miss the way he chewed his tongue when he got focused, or when his hair was blown awry by the air conditioner.

Your brain took a turn for the worse as a more romantic scene in the movie arrived. Your eyes raked over his exposed skin, feeling like a Victorian man who had just been introduced to short sleeves.

You looked at his tattoos, really looked at them, and saw countless music notes with small letters in them, a guitar, small pictures or animals, and a lot of book references. You never expected Jake to have been fully inked up, but you also never expected to find that as a huge turn-on.

You squeezed your thighs together to hide the fact that a simple doodle in perfectly smooth skin had put you in such a predicament. Jake turned to you, wrapping his arm around you and pointing to the screen. “See that actor?”

“Yeah, what about him?” You asked.

Jake let his hand fall onto your lap, turning to you. “Even he can tell you're not paying attention,” he pushed your hair behind your ear. “Wanna tell me what you like so much that you've been staring at me the whole time?”

You gawked. You geeked. You'd fumbled.

Jake slid his hand onto your back, and in a moment he was above you. “Tell me, sweetheart, what's so attractive that it's got you squeezing those pretty thighs so tight?”

You gulped, your thoughts having gone anywhere but where they should. He tapped his finger against your lip, a sinful smile on his face. “Your tattoos,” you whispered.

Jake leaned back, messily pushing his hair out of his face and laughing darkly. “You like my tattoos so much that you're getting wet over them?” He asked, looking down at you.

You nodded. “I like how cool you look, wanna see the rest.”

“You want to see the rest of the ones on me, sweetheart?” He asked in that thick Aussie accent you couldn't get enough of.

With a small squeak, you nodded again, feeling smaller than usual in his gaze. He looked at you the same way you'd assume a predator stared at its prey in its final moments, but you felt a strange sense of safety with him.

He slowly leaned in, his arms caging you in as he pressed his lips to yours. He held your hip with his large hand, his fingers gripping your ass while his palm held you down. He slid his thigh over your core, pressing into where you needed him most.

Your lips parted, letting out a moan. Jake swallowed it whole, sliding his tongue against your own slowly and sucking on your bottom lip. The two of you built a slow rhythm, his thigh grinding into you as you arched your back like clockwork.

His hand never left your hip, holding you in place to keep you victim to his torturously slow lips and thrusts. He loved every noise that left your mouth. Jake pulled away from you, his eyes taking in your wet, puffy lips. The two of you were breathlessly panting to catch your breaths.

His lips parted in thought. “Didn't think you'd be such a good kisser,” he mused. “Almost like you were made for my lips.”

You giggled, pushing him off you as he went to press more kisses to your lips. “Jake, I want to know more about you,” you whined.

“For one, I'm a really good kisser,” he wiggled his eyebrows jokingly as he settled back into his seat. His arms came behind him for support. He seemed to not worry about covering his obvious boner, leaning back and looking at the ceiling.

You hit his arm. “I know that already,” you fussed. “But, like, what are some hobbies of yours?”

He jut his bottom lip out in thought. “I play guitar,” he shrugged, “and there's nothing I love more than getting high and reading a good book.”

You blinked slowly, his eyes coming to yours with a smile. “What does being high even have to do with reading?”

“Makes the experience more realistic. Feels like you're there, you start feeling what the character feels and all,” he sighed. “I like to read romance books, though.”

You bit the back of your lip. “Does that really work?”

“Wanna try it?"

Jake had lit a joint for you, showing you how to hold it and even going so far as to hold it for you while he played with your hair.

The world started to move slower, certain colors waving in your vision. “Do you feel it?” Jake asked, running his hands through your hair. You nodded, looking around the room. “The rest’ll hit soon, just know I'm right here if you need me.”

He put his arm around your shoulders as he took his own hits, resting his head against your own.

He put the joint into a small ashtray, standing with you and grabbing one of the many books he'd brought into the soundproofed study room off a table.

The two of you read through it, laughing when one of you wouldn't be done with the page as fast as the other. Suddenly, the book began to describe a racier scene, one with hands all over the main character's body and kisses being pressed over her.

Jake watched you closely, taking note of how you squirmed in your seat every time the girl felt a new sensation. “What's wrong, Y/N?” Jake asked in a low voice, leaning into you. “You seem… worked up.”

You swallowed hard. “N-No! I’m just cold,” you lied. Jake clicked his tongue, closing the book and holding you by your thigh.

He used his hand to pull you closer, his lips connecting to your own. “Sure, sweetheart. I believe you,” he lied with a smirk. He glanced at your lips again before wrapping his fingers around your throat, pulling you in to continue his rough kiss.

A groan slipped from Jake's own throat, his body reacting before he could. He pulled away, his hand sliding up your closed thighs. “Not,” he continued, connecting your lips again. You opened your legs slightly, giving Jake the ability to use his hand and pry them open.

He ran his fingers up and down your clothed slit, just barely giving you the friction you craved. You felt how hard he was through his jeans, his crotch subtly grinding against your leg. He continued his assault against your lips, never once stopping for air.

You hit his chest, moaning into his mouth as he pulled away. “Jake, stop teasing me.”

“Oh, I'd never tease you, darling,” he responded with a mischievous grin. “Just wanted you to feel how good you're gonna feel with me.”

Jake took his hand off your skirt and brought it into your other hand. He brought his lips to your neck, biting down and tracing the marks with his tongue. You moaned out his name, making him groan lowly into your neck.

“I can't wait anymore,” he said as he stepped back and began unbuckling his belt. “I need to feel your throat around me.”

You stood, walking to be in front of him and pushing his back to the table. His breath caught in his throat as you sank to your knees in front of him. He hurriedly finished unbuckling his belt, reaching his hands to his waistband to pull down the rest of his clothing as you held his hand to stop him.

“Wait, Jake, are you sure about this? We're both high and in a study room in the library, what if the cameras pick up the noise?”

Jake leaned against the table behind him, his hands holding onto the edge of it at his sides. He looked at you with such an intense heat behind his gaze, you could feel the lust of it gathering into your underwear.

He slid a hand into your hair, pulling you to him and smashing his lips to yours. He brought his thigh outwards to catch your body between your legs. Your eyes shut at the feeling, the messy kiss fogging your brain.

“These rooms are sound-proof for two reasons. One, for studying or reading. And two, so I can fuck your throat as hard as I want.”

He released your hair, making you fall back to your knees. He pushed his pants and boxers down to his knees, giving you a grand view of his cock.

It was veiny, thick, and the tip was such an angry red that the precum leaking from it almost screamed for you to lick it all up. Without warning, you grabbed it and took it between your lips.

Jake threw his head back, a moan bouncing off the walls of the room. You heard him suck a breath in through his teeth as you sucked on the tip. You let your tongue glide over his slit, collecting his precum and swallowing it.

“Fuck, Y/N, you're so good at this,” he moaned. Your wetness was dripping down your legs, you felt it. You moaned around him as you took more of him in with hollowed cheeks.

He held the sides of your head, forcing you to look into his eyes. “Remember what I said, sweetheart. Wanna fuck your face, if that's okay.”

You hummed on his dick, giving him the go-ahead. He slowly began to thrust into your mouth, not pushing in all the way. When you began to bob your head further, Jake took it as his sign to go deeper.

He added more force and speed to his thrusts until you were taking him whole, each thrust hitting the bottom of your throat and making you gag around him. Your saliva was dripping down his balls and onto his legs as you used one hand to rub your own clit.

You were so close, but you wanted to wait until his cum was pouring down your throat to finish. “Such a good girl for me, so sweet for taking my dick down her throat,” Jake hummed, his eyes never leaving the sight. It all felt so good.

Jake’s legs began to shake as he let out more moans. Jake was not afraid to be loud, nor was he afraid to speak his mind. He constantly praised you between his little moans.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “‘M so close.”

You moaned against him again, his hips jolting forward. “Gonna make me cum down your throat like that, bet you want that don't you?”

His tip slammed into the back of your throat, his thrusts growing erratic. With each thrust he gave to the back of your throat, you circled your clit faster. “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” he groaned.

His hips stuttered to a halt, warm liquid spilling into your stomach. “Taking it so, so good,” he sighed, his hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead. “Atta girl, my girl, so beautiful with my cock down her throat.”

You moaned as you felt your orgasm take over you, moans spilling around Jake’s cock and slightly overstimulating him. He thrusted one more time into you, a lazy smile on his face. He pulled out of you, watching bits of spit and cum dribble down your chin.

You looked like an absolute wreck, your hair messy and your mascara running with spit down your chin. Jake loved it. You looked stunning to him.

“Y/N, that was amazing. Thank you,” he pulled you up to sit you in a chair. He ran out of the room to get water for you, as he'd told you when he walked out.

Your eyes darted around the room. You opened your phone to see four missed calls from both Sunghoon and Jay.

You dialed Jay’s phone number, a groggy smile on your face. “Hey, what's up?”

“Y/N, are you still with Jake?”

“Yes, why?” You asked, stretching in the chair.

He sighed over the phone. “We've been waiting outside the library for half an hour, get the fuck in the car.”

“Jay, I'm capable of bringing myself home-”

“Y/N. Get out of there, now,” Jay said, his tone cold. “I don't know how to say this, but-”

“Jay, you can't control me. I'm an adult,” you rolled your eyes, pacing around the room. “If you're so uncomfortable with me dating someone-”

Jay interrupted you, saying a sentence you'd never think to hear about anyone, much less the guy you sucked off less than three minutes ago. His words had you quickly grabbing your belongings and running out of the building, hoping Jake didn't see you go.

“He’s wanted for murder, Y/N.”

notes: MURDER?? oh boy.. didn't see that one coming ;) expect the next part to be... Eventful. Originally, Jake was supposed to be a camboy, but I figured that possible criminal Jake would be better LMFAO. I reccomend listening to Arctic monkeys or chase Atlantic when you read this series.

tags: @heesitation @vizstars

likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated, and thank you for reading! stick around for part 2!!

[sepublic]

So in Willow’s debut, it’s established that Abominations is considered as having better career opportunities than Plants. And in hindsight, it makes sense now; Abominations are valued by the coven regime in the way Blight Industries does them, as industrial Abomatons that can be controlled, as a means of military power and not magitech medicine as Alador shows in the epilogue. Belos buys them from Odalia, he practically assimilates Blight Industries.

This is because Abomatons don’t think for themselves, they’re servants that can replace covenscouts in areas that would challenge morality, and they lack the sapience to be targeted. They’re beings Belos can control without having to learn more of the magic he despises to do so; All of this is in contrast to how Darius or Amity use Abominations as a reflection of their own skill, the individual.

We see how the Abomatons aid the coven regime, and esp see through the Day of Unity; The Abomatons can be programmed, and do nothing without orders; They’re not going to become witches and demons in their own right, they’ll maintain those walls and then do so for the end of time.

They don’t need to be targeted for genocide as victims of the draining spell who would be incapacitated, so they can do their job while that happens. They keep witches corralled because the closer to the ritual, the faster the covenbound die. Of course, those who haven’t collapsed might try and stop the spell by removing the coven heads, which would place them within weakening proximity anyhow…

But that paranoia over covenbound who aren’t yet unconscious is justified; The Abomatons’ own creator rendered their role in the Day of Unity and the regime as a whole obsolete, because he had the strength away from the ritual to help the kids reach the skull, which allowed King to free the Collector and undo everything.

Plus, Belos is loathe to the isles; He depletes its natural resources, he wants all life to die and devastating the ecosystem is another way to do so. Hunter suggests growing Palistrom wood and he’s furious at the idea. So of course Plant magic is devalued, because it’s focused on life, on sustainability, with keeping others alive.

It’s the exact opposite of the cold industrialism that will make the Day of Unity happen and leave the land barren afterwards because the Abomatons themselves are barren in that sense, lacking magic and with little to contribute to the ecosystem, if anything. Plant magic is half of nature, the other being Beastkeeping, I wonder if that is also devalued by the regime?

Makes sense the Demon Hunters have to resort to menial city jobs instead of their traditional livelihood, forced to assimilate into an urban society if their environment has been depleted by colonialism. Adds to Darius and Eberwolf being rebels. And with Terra, it shows how much she’s willing to throw her fellow witches under the bus for utopia.

I remember speculating it since I was a Teenage Abomination; Abominations really is STEM, down to being used for military applications. Given TOH’s critique of the American education system, you can see how this metaphor extends when the work of creating a sustainable society and environment is secondary to destroying enemies and establishing supremacy and capital (As established with CEO Odalia’s motives).

Because it’s fun and easy to destroy, rather than do the banal yet meaningful work of actually building and healing and feeding people, thinking of how society can be sustainable. It’s easy to talk about how you can destroy witches zombies in an apocalypse, instead of how to keep a community of survivors alive; All that talk about how dudes bored with their lives dream about being an action hero at the expense of society’s collapse, without understanding what the world really needs is builders and not destroyers, and that they’d be nothing without the people who do this ‘boring’ work, is so very Belos.

[black-rose-writings]

Things I have gathered about Danny Phanton without having ever watched the show (from posts and fanfics):

There's ghosts and they're kind of assholes, but they're also all friends and have christmas parties. Their presence is treated as a mild annoyance by everyone except the ghost hunters.

The main character is a dead 14yo. Sometimes. He's also trans.

There are adult professional ghost hunters around. Literally all of them seem like they are just taking out their serial killer urges on ghosts. "Man is the real monster" trope in action. At least some of the ghost hunters are a Men In Black parody.

The dead 14yo actually the most competent at removing ghosts from the mortal plane.

There is another 14yo who is not dead and also hunting ghosts. She's somehow also more competent at it than the adults.

The MC's parents are ghost hunters and want to torture him into perma-death. That is somehow not the biggest problem with their parenting.

(Like, I get that adults in kids' media need to be kinda dumb and immature for the premise of the show/book/movie/whatever to work, but I'm getting the feeling the adults in this show cross the line of 'plot necessary dumbass' into 'fucked up and abusive' territorry.)

One of the ghosts is tiny, piloting a giant mecha suit and dedicated to skinning the MC and hanging his skin on his wall. He somehow also has a cool rocker girlfriend and thinks this will impress her. Jury's out on whether or not that's a good strategy.

There is a ghost called the Box Ghost, who demands to be taken seriously. Nobody takes him seriously.

The MC's nemesis is another dude who is sometimes dead. He looks like a vampire and swears in food. He also wants to kill the MC's dad (for mostly valid reasons) and bang his mom (for no good reason at all) and adopt the MC as his son(mostly because of his hangups around the parents, not because said parents suck at being parents). In a villainous and fucked up way, because he's the main antagonists. He's also a billionaire, has a cat, and is weirdly obsessed with american football (IDK jack shit about american football, but the level of obsession is treated as not normal by the characters so I will assume it is weird and just how americans be like).

There were 3 seasons, but half of the fandom is convinced the third one may have been a fever dream because it's so bad.

There was a finale that everyone pretends didn't happen because it sucked.

There is at least one time travel fix it episode and the time travel ghost wears way too many watches.

The MC has two living friends - Wade from Kim Possible, but thinner and leaves his house, and a jewish goth vegan.

The MC has a clone and she's a baby and a gremlin.

The ships all have the weirdest fucking names.

Somehow half the named characters being dead is not the angstiest part of the show.

I kinda want to know how someone came up with it and what drugs they were taking. IDK if I want to try some or avoid them, but it would be good to know either way.

[unfinishedslurs]

gay bar (steddie)

“Well, well, well,” says a voice from behind. “Steeeeeeve Harrington. I must be dreaming.”

Steve turns around to see a guy, dressed in black and chains. Rings decorating his fingers, studs in his ears, curly hair pulled back in a ponytail. He’s hot, yeah, but something about him has Steve squinting, trying to figure out why he looks so familiar. 

“I know you from somewhere,” he says, pointing out the obvious. The guy knows his name.

The not-a-stranger snorts. “Of course you don’t remember me. Why would the likes of King Steve stoop to—“

As soon as the nickname leaves his mouth, Steve’s brain lights up. “Munson!” He exclaims, snapping his fingers. “You used to climb on the lunch tables to give speeches.”

It was so obnoxious, too. The kind of thing that had him and Robin reminiscing late at night, celebrating some of the weirder shit about Hawkins that didn’t come from monsters, or Russians, or government conspiracy. Remember that one asshole? Yeah, he stepped on my lunch one time!

Condolences to Robin’s pb&j. She never sat at that table again.

Munson’s whole face turns pink. “Seriously? That’s what you remember?”

“It was pretty fucking memorable, dude. Like, gross, doesn’t this guy know not to put his feet where people eat? Dustin thought you were so cool for it too. I had to nip that in the bud before he started imitating you or some shit.”

“Oh,” he says, voice gone flat. “Because God forbid some poor kid try to immolate the freak.”

Steve gives him his bitchiest, most deadpan stare. “Feet,” he says slowly. “Nasty, fifteen year old boy feet. On my kitchen table. He almost slipped and cracked his skull, and I would have sent you the hospital bill.”

He had to get creative to make him stop, too. Stood there, hands on his hips, and made Dustin tell him exactly how many germs he thought were on his shoes. Then when he tried to do it barefoot, decided the only course of action was to stuff Dustin’s abandoned sock in his mouth and ask if he wanted that shit with every meal. Erica still has the photos. 

Munson has the decency to look embarrassed, face flooding an even brighter red that wouldn’t be out of place in a tomato patch. “What are you even doing here, Harrington?”

What does he think Steve’s doing here? It’s a fucking gay bar, it’s pretty self explanatory. “My friend is here somewhere,” he says, waving out at the crowd of people. “She’s going through a dry spell, so…”

“Right,” Munson says. Steve squints at him. Does he look disappointed?

Eh. Doesn’t matter. 

“You gave my kids the best freshman year of their nerdy little lives,” he tells him, because he knows Dustin would want him to. Plus, the guy was Mike’s gay awakening. He should probably get some credit. “So thanks for that.”

He lights up. “Yeah! How was Hellfire in my absence?”

“I had to hear them bitch and moan for months about how it ‘wasn’t the same,’ but it’s doing pretty all right. Erica Sinclair is running it now.”

“Erica Sinclair…” Munson mutters, snapping his fingers. “Lucas Sinclair’s little sister? Lady Applejack?” He beams when Steve nods. “She kicked ass. Best finish to a campaign my entire high school career. How’s Lucas, anyway? And the rest of the runts.”

“He’s doing great,” Steve says. “College basketball at Yale. Pretty sure he’s dying under the workload, but that’s what you get for majoring in physics. Dustin’s at MIT, and Mike’s taking a gap year.”

He whistles lowly. “Yeesh, I don’t blame him. How about Byers?”

“Which one?”

“Zombie boy.” Steve’s hackles raise, but Munson just grins. “God, that nickname was badass.”

“How do you even know about that?”

Munson taps the side of his nose. “A magician never reveals his secrets. Besides, all it took for you to remember me was calling you by your high school nickname.”

“That wasn’t my nickname.” Steve rolls his eyes. “Literally three people ever actually called me that, and you were one of them.”

He has a feeling it was Tommy who started it, bitter and vicious. Told himself Steve was self possessed, high and mighty, above it all. That’s why he left his old friends behind. Not because he was in love, or because he wanted to be better. No, King Steve just sits alone in his castle, looking down on the peasants with contempt. 

Billy must have taken his angry ramblings and run with them. After all, what better way to get a start in a new town than declaring yourself royalty? Never mind that Steve hadn’t cared about anything like that for almost a year by then. 

Munson had just been a drama-loving asshole. 

“That can’t be right.”

“I stopped being popular in junior year. Why the hell would anyone call a sophomore King?” Steve points out. 

“You were Prom King.”

“Again, in junior year. Pickings were slim. Who else would it have been? Tommy?” He has to laugh. 

Luckily, Munson takes the hint and swerves the conversation into new territory. “You know, I always figured you’d be homophobic.”

Steve snorts. “What, and get kicked out for nothing?”

Munson stares at him, and Steve furrows his brow, looking into his glass like it will have the answer to why the hell he said that to this guy he barely knows. He just decided he wasn’t going to spill all his daddy issues to a near-stranger in a dingy bar, dammit. Is he already on his fifth drink?

Actually, this might be his sixth. That tracks. 

“What?”

“My dad caught me kissing a boy,” he says. If he’s going to give Munson his life story, he might as well commit. “Can you believe that boy ruined my life in three different ways? Two of them didn’t even have anything to do with the gay thing.” 

Maybe four ways, if you accounted for the way he broke his goddamn heart, but everyone and their mother saw that coming a mile away. Even Steve. Especially Steve. 

No offense to Jonathan. None of those things were really his fault. Or actually life ruining, but it sure fucking felt like it at the time. 

He should give him a call soon, actually, see how he and Argyle are doing. He misses the guy. Maybe he and Robin should save up for a visit to Cali. Get Nancy on it. They could see San Francisco while they were there, that’d be cool. Apparently it was the queer capital of the country. 

He’s thinking about asking the bartender for a napkin and a pen to write down the plans he’s forming when Munson speaks up again. Steve honestly forgot he was here. 

“I thought you said you were here for a friend.”

What?” Steve blinks, confused, and then catches on. “Yeah, to get her laid. I’m not in the mood right now.”

Munson cocks an eyebrow. “Wearing that? Could’ve fooled me.”

Steve looks down at his Springsteen T-Shirt that Robin cropped, and picks at the frayed hem of his shorts. Okay, yeah, they’re on the skimpy side, but in his defense it’s summer and even if he’s not cruising Steve likes being looked at. “Yeah, yeah. What about you? Here for anything in particular?”

“Just to talk to some pretty boys,” Munson says, leaning on the bar to flag down the bartender. Steve smirks, reaching out a hand to tug at the hanky in his back pocket. Pinned, damn. 

Munson whirls around, a flush starting to crawl onto his ears. 

“Wearing that?” Steve echos snarkily. “Could’ve fooled me.”

He swears that for a minute Munson’s eyes darken. 

He’s almost tempted to follow through, high school reputation be damned, when someone crashes into his side and nearly sends him careening. 

“Steeeeeve,” Robin yells happily into his ear. “This is Bernie, she’s gonna take me home, see you la—oh, hi!” She says, noticing Munson. “I know you from somewhere.”

“Eddie Munson,” Munson greets. “Steve and I went to high school together.”

“Munson! That’s it, you climbed on tables and had shit music. I’m Robin. Okay, I’ll call the apartment and leave a message when we get there. Bernie’s waiting on me, it’s-nice-to-meet-you-bye!” Just like that, she’s gone. 

Munson’s mouth has dropped open. “You told her I had shit music?” He demands. “Wait, you talked about me?”

“She went to school with us, dumbass,” he says, as if he can talk. He still barely remembers her as more than a vague, glowering figure in his peripheral. “It’s not my fault you blasted your screamy music for everyone in the parking lot. Such a fucking headache, God.”

Munson turns his nose up. “Sorry for having offended your jock sensibilities.”

“Oh, I don’t play anymore,” he says, and knocks on his head. “Concussions, yanno. Apparently brain damage will fuck you up. Who knew?”

“What, like the fight you had with Byers? He did you that bad?”

“He did me just fine,” Steve blurts out, before he can stop himself. Munson chokes. “Shit, sorry, I’m kind of a horny drunk.” Weird thing to say, Steve. “Also, I cannot stress enough how much I needed to be punched in the face. It was a monumental moment for me, you know. Started me on the path for changing my entire worldview. Plus, he was my first guy crush.” He swirls his empty glass, lost in thought, before brightening up. “I should call him!”

Munson is staring at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish. 

“What?”

“You’re drunk.”

“Well, yeah. Duh.”

“I should probably stop you from booty-calling the guy who punched you in the face.”

Steve wrinkles his nose. “It wouldn’t be a booty-call,” he says. “He and Argyle are happy together, man. I’m not gonna ruin that.”

“Oh, so you’d call him because…”

“I call him all the time,” Steve says, confused as to why this is such a big deal. “We’re friends.”

“Jonathan!” He yells happily into the pay phone. Munson is standing to the side, looking on in annoyance. Whatever, it’s not like Steve asked him to do this. “Jonathan, man, how are you?”

“…Steve?”

“Yeah!”

“It’s like…” he hears something clatter in the background, like Jonathan is looking for something, “two in the morning there. You okay?”

“I’m doing great!” He exclaims. “How about you? It’s been ages, man, I miss you.”

“This is so fucking weird,” Munson whispers behind him. Steve ignores him. 

“Are you drunk?”

“No,” he says. “Well, maybe a little. Do you not miss me too?” He pouts, and Jonathan sighs loud enough he hears it over the phone. 

“I just talked to you yesterday.”

Steve frowns. “Yesterday? That can’t be right, it’s been, like, forever. Oh, hey, have you heard from Nance lately? How’s your mom? I love your mom, she’s so fucking cool. Does she know I think she’s cool? How’s Will? It’s been so long, is he taller than me yet? How’s Argyle doing with his degree? I miss you guys.”

“We miss you too, Steve.”

“Awww, Byers, getting soppy on me? Gross, man.”

“You literally just—yeah, okay. Are you alone?”

“Nah, I’ve got this guy with me, he’s walking me home. Oh! Dude, do you remember Munson?”

“Munson?”

“Yeah, Eddie Munson! From high school! The one who used to climb on tables and shit, remember him?”

“Jesus Christ,” Munson groans. “Please let that die.”

“No one is dying,” Steve informs him seriously, and turns back to the phone. Munson sighs. 

“Wasn’t he a drug dealer?”

“Yes! Yeah, drug dealer Munson! Did you ever buy from him?” He turns to where Munson is looking around furtively. “Did Jonathan ever buy from you?”

“How about we not talk about this here,” Munson says through gritted teeth. Steve sighs and turns back to the phone. 

“Never mind, he says he doesn’t want to talk about that. Not like we can judge him, but whatever. Maybe the guy’s turned into a prude—“

“Okay, give me that.” Munson wrestles the phone out of his hand, and Steve whines at him. “Hey, Byers,” Munson says. “Yeah, it’s Eddie. Or Munson. Whatever. Listen, I’m getting kind of sick of standing here watching Harrington slobber all over the receiver, can he call you tomorrow? What? No, I don’t sell anymore—yeah, total bummer, whatever. Listen, I’ll get him home safe—no, I’m not going to serial murder him. He’s gonna be fine, he’ll call you tomorrow—Nancy Wheeler? Like that girl he dated? Didn’t you—shoot me? Jesus, okay! I’m not gonna kill the guy, Christ. He’s gonna be fine, oh my God. He’ll call you tomorrow. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yeah, okay. Bye.” He slams the phone into its holder with more than a little contempt. 

“Hey!” Steve protests. “You didn’t let me say bye.”

“You can call him tomorrow and apologize,” Munson says. “Now c’mon, Harrington. I’ve been tasked with getting you home safe, and if I fail, apparently Nancy fucking Wheeler is going to shoot me in the balls.”

“Oh, yeah, she’s really hot when she does that,” Steve says fondly, and Munson splutters. 

“What, does Wheeler just go around shooting people? Does she even have a gun?”

“Of course Nancy has a gun.” Steve frowns. It was one of the sure things in the universe at this point. The sky is blue, Hawkins is fucked up, and Nancy Wheeler has a gun. “And she doesn’t shoot people, stupid. Well, she shot at Billy, but he deserved it.”

“Billy?” Munson mutters, starting to usher Steve in the direction of home. “Who the fuck is Billy?”

“He was trying to kill her first!” Steve defends. “I hit him with a car before he could, so she was okay.”

“Okay, yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t you hit some guy with a car? 

“It wasn’t some guy,” Steve says. “It was Billy. He was, like, possessed or some shit. Oh, and he beat me up. Total psycho.  And that was before the melted flesh monster.”

Munson stops and stares at him. “You know what, sure. Demonic possession. Yeah, okay. Some guy named Billy kicked your ass—wait, are you talking about Billy Hargrove?”

Steve lights up. “Yeah! You remember that? That’s one of the concussions I was talking about. I gotta wear glasses 'cuza that shit. Man, fuck that guy.”

“Didn’t he die?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve frowns down at the ground. “Shit, I’m, like, speaking ill of the dead, aren’t I? Max wouldn't like that. Unfuck him, or whatever.”

“You wanna come up?” He asks. “For old times sake?”

Munson stares at him like it’s the craziest thing he’s said all evening. “‘Old times’ was your asshole friends calling me a satan worshiper and pushing me around in hallways, Harrington.”

“I know.” He grins. If he was sober he’d definitely feel worse about that, but as it is he’s pretty single minded. “Don't you kind of want to make me cry about it?”

Deer in headlights isn’t usually a good look, but Munson’s got the eyes to make it work. Or Steve is drunk. Either way, it’s kinda cute. 

“You’re drunk,” he finally says, stumbling over the words a little. If Steve pays close attention and ignores most of reality, it almost sounds like he’s trying to convince both of them. “You’re so incredibly drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk.” He totally is. 

“I just had to supervise you calling Jonathan Byers so you didn’t say something you’d regret in the morning.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asks, offended. “I love Jonathan! I tell him all the time. Just because I said he ruined my life—“

“That was him?”

“Did I not say that? Huh. Whatever. Point is, I’m not that drunk.”

“You’re definitely drunk,” Munson says. “I’m not—yeah, no. I’m not coming up.”

“Damn.” Steve shrugs, not too put out about it. It’s a bummer, sure, but he handles rejection like a champ. Just ask Robin. “Worth a shot. See you ‘round, Munson.”

“Don’t kill me,” Steve says. 

“Oh, god, did you punch him?”

“No, I, uh.” Steve rubs the bridge of his nose. “I think I tried to fuck him.”

He has to hold the phone away from his face so Dustin’s screeching doesn’t break his eardrums. 

“Your exes are weirdly protective of you,” Munson says blandly. “Also, didn’t they date?”

“Yeah,” Steve shrugs, not exactly eager to start spilling his life story again now that he’s sober. Munson doesn’t need to know more about his dating history than he already does. “We’re all a little weird about each other, sorry.”

“Weird about your exes,” he hums. “No wonder you’re single.”

“Oh, fuck you. It’s not like that.”

He raises an eyebrow. “No?”

“Are you always this nosy?” Steve asks, a little waspish. 

“Absolutely,” Munson replies without hesitation. “I’d say sorry, but I’m not. When did you even date him?”

“Dude.”

Munson just cocks an expectant eyebrow, hip resting against the bar. He can’t imagine why someone would be so interested in the romantic lives of their old high school classmates. It’s not like Steve is about to ask what was going on between him and Chrissy Cunningham. 

“Well, Harrington?”

“First grade,” Steve answers, deadpan. He grins when Munson chokes. “Nah, it was actually after he and Nancy broke up. Fall of ‘86.”

Arms squeeze him from behind, and Robin slides into view, leaving one hand wrapped pointedly around Steve’s waist. She gets clingy when she thinks someone is bothering him, or when she’s just on the side of drunk that she gets possessive. She told him, embarrassed and hungover, that it’s because she registers someone he’s getting along with as infringing on “her Steve time.” Steve thinks it’s hilarious and kind of sweet, an obvious lesbian trying to pretend he’s her date. Especially because he gets the same way when he’s tipsy and feels like he doesn’t have enough of her attention, so she can't yell at him for being a cockblock. Cuntblock. Whatever the lesbians call it.

He wonders what category she thinks Eddie is. Of guy, that is. Not block-anything.

He'd actually be pretty damn happy if the guy miraculously changed his mind and decided to sit on his cock instead.

“What’s going on here?” She asks, almost cattily. He loves when Robin gets bitchy. It brings him back to their Scoops days, except he gets to see it turned on someone else. 

“I’m telling Eddie my life story,” Steve says blithely.

“Ugh. Who would want that?”

Eddie grins. “I’m curious about the adventures of a former king.” He dips his head in a bow, waving his hand in a flourish. “I don’t know if you remember me from last time, I’m Eddie—“

“Munson, I know. You stepped on my lunch in junior year.”

Eddie turns beet red in record time. 

“Aww, Robbie,” Steve almost coos. “Leave him alone. I wanted to be the one who made him blush like that.”

“It’s not my fault your boy’s easy.”

“Not my boy, clearly,” he mutters under his breath. “And if he were easy, I’d have gotten fucked by now.”

Eddie’s mouth drops open with a choked little sound. Whoops. Steve forgot volume control again. 

Robin takes one look at Eddie’s face and bursts into cackles. 

“He was asking about,” he waved a hand in the air, “the whole Nancy-Jonathan thing.”

Her eyebrows jut up. “You told him about the threesome?”

“The what?”

Steve sighs. “No, Robin. I did not tell him about the threesome.”

“…oops.”

“When?” Eddie demands. 

Robin gives him the evil eye. “Why are you being weird about this? It’s not gonna make him fuck you.”

Steve wisely keeps his mouth shut. 

Eddie does not. “Your boy here already asked,” he smirks, leaning closer. “I said no.”

Then, as an added punch to his ego, he twirls a strand of Steve’s hair around his finger and tugs slightly. Steve’s too stunned to protest. 

Robin watches the exchange. “Oh, no thank you,” she says. “Nope. I’m out. I don’t want to see whatever this is. Ugh, stop making me hear about your sex life.”

Hypocrite. “We have thin walls, Buckley,” Steve reminds her. He turns to Eddie and stage whispers, “She likes her girls loud.”

“Steve!”

“You do!”

“Oh, because you’re so quiet,” she snaps, smacking him. “How many times have I had to bang on the wall because you couldn’t keep it down? You wanna talk about loud? I know more about you than I ever wanted to.”

His mouth drops open in mortification. “You know it’s rude to be mean to the man who told you how to eat out,” he hisses. 

“I’m not dying without fucking Eddie Munson,” he declares. “I mean, his high school nickname was literally ‘The Freak.’ He’s got to be good in bed, right?”

“I think that was mostly because everyone thought he was communing with the Devil or something.”

“Maybe the Devil gave him sex magic.”

“Of course he thinks I’m cute.”

“I do?”

“Do you not?” Steve turns to him, widening his eyes in the same pout that always has Robin throwing something at his face, or the kids reluctantly agreeing to do what he wants. He’s found it’s useful for guys too, especially if he ducks his head to seem smaller and looks through his eyelashes. Makes them imagine him looking like that on his knees. 

Munson is no exception. He melts faster than Steve can say gotcha. “You’re very cute, Harrington,” he purrs, and Robin snorts into her drink. 

“You’re a weak, weak man, Eddie Munson,” she tells a blushing Eddie. Then she kicks Steve. “Stop bringing out the ‘fuck me’ eyes when I’m around, I’ll gag.”

“You could leave.”

She gasps, affronted, and kicks him harder.

“So you would fuck me if I wasn’t drunk?”

“Uh…” he looks everywhere but Steve’s face, which is just rude. He has a very nice face. He’s been called dreamy before. 

Which made Robin laugh so hard she fell off the couch when he told her, but he’ll take the lesbian’s opinion with a grain of salt. 

He makes his way onto the dance floor. He’s not a particularly good dancer, but he shakes his ass like he means it. Gets up close with a guy, stares at Eddie the whole time. Keeping eye contact as the guy puts his hands on his hips. 

Look, he means to say. This could be you. You could lose your chance if you’re not careful. 

From the burning in Eddie’s eyes, he gets the message. 

The message is a bunch of bullshit. It’s been over four months, he’s in too deep to go fuck off with someone else now. Still, he enjoys the way Eddie’s hands flex on his thighs, like he had to stop himself from reaching out. 

The thing is, Steve’s not an asshole. He can take a hint. No means no, and all that jazz. If Eddie really didn’t want him, he’d fuck right off and find someone who did. He even started to.

Except Eddie pouted up a storm when he flirted with someone else. Got even clingier when Steve tried to back off. At this point, he’s accepted that Eddie does want to fuck him, and maybe even be more (no one flirts with someone as long as they’ve been doing without wanting something like a relationship out of it. At least, he hopes there’s something more on the horizon), but has some weird hang up about Steve being even a little bit buzzed when it happens. Even though they only ever see each other at this fucking bar.

The problem is Steve has no idea when Eddie will be at the bar. He’ll stay sober one night, hoping to see him, and then go home alone only for next time to be when he sees telltale curls and a wide smile. It’s driving him up the wall. 

Robin has been similarly affected.

“It’s been six months,” she growls as Steve looks eagerly around. “Six fucking months of you two dancing around in the worlds most annoying mating ritual. I’m going to kill both of you.”

“We’re not that bad,” he says absently. 

“You don’t even have his phone number. It’s pathetic. I swear to God, if you see him again and don’t get laid I’m reviving the scoops board. I will go out and buy a whiteboard to keep track of all the times you strike out with a man who used to walk on tables. He stepped on my lunch, Steve. Do I need to keep bringing up the fact he stepped on my delicious, nutritious PB&J? I can’t believe that’s the guy you decide to be obsessed with, that’s so fucking embarrassing for you.”

“Embarrassing? You mean like your crush on my ex girlfriend?”

She screeches wordlessly, pulling her keychain off her belt loop and attacking him with it. 

Naturally, that’s how Eddie finds them. 

“I swear you guys get weirder every time I see you.”

Steve grins guilelessly at him, holding a flailing Robin in a headlock. 

“Eddie! Hey! It’s been a minute.” He hasn’t been able to come in a month, and it’s been longer since he’s seen him. It’s honestly one of the deciding factors on whether it’s a passing fancy or a full blown crush. He still went to sleep every night thinking about Eddie. It didn’t even have to be about sex. 

Although maybe not sleeping with anyone else for half a year should have tipped him off sooner. 

“Sure has, big boy. I was starting to think you were getting sick of me.” It’s a joke, but Steve catches an undercurrent of insecurity. 

“That’d make my life easier,” Robin snorts. She finally wiggles her way out of his hold. “I saw Arty somewhere around here, I’m gonna see if I can crash at her place tonight.” She levels Eddie with a look. “He hasn’t had anything to drink. If you don’t put him out of his misery, I will. And it won’t be the good kind. It will be the bad kind. With bad screams. Lots of screaming, and someone will call the pigs, and I’ll be arrested and jailed for life. Do you want me to go to jail, Munson?”

Eddie shakes his head dumbly. 

“Good! Then do something about it.” She slaps Steve’s back, a mocking echo of his jock days. “Go get ‘em, slugger!” 

With that, she’s gone, disappearing into the crowd. 

“She is,” Steve remarks with amusement, “the worst wingman on planet Earth. Mars too, probably.”

“I dunno, I think it might be working.”

“I’m not doing anything without a condom,” he says, eyes narrowed like he’s waiting for an argument. 

“Me neither,” Steve agrees. “Robin has, like, this big fear of diseases. Totally got me with it. She pulled out the library books, those pictures were fucking disgusting. Shit showed up in my dreams, man. Neither of us do anything without protection.”

“I’m going to be totally honest with you, because I haven’t been and it’s starting to eat at me,” Eddie says, hovering above Steve. 

Steve wrinkles his nose. “What is it? Are you a spy or something? Are you Russian? Do you have superpowers? Is your name not actually Eddie?” He pauses. “Oh, God, you’re not even Eddie Munson, are you? I’m just some asshole who’s been calling you by my old classmates name and you were too embarrassed to correct me. Shit, we made so much fun of you for walking on tables too—“

“What?” Eddie covers his mouth, expression hovering between amused and baffled. “What the fuck, why would I go along with that? No, Jesus, I’m Eddie Munson. Moved to Hawkins when I was eleven, took senior year three times, walked on the fucking tables, could you let that go?” He moves the hand covering Steve’s mouth to play with his hair, looking annoyed for a minute before it smoothes to trepidation. “No, I, uh, I just felt like I needed to tell you that I used to have a hate-boner for you in high school. Like, I used to jack it to the thought of kicking your ass and making a mess outta you. In more ways than one.”

Steve stares. 

“Also, that’s kind of why I approached you in the bar in the first place,” Eddie blabbers on. “And then you said you were just there for a friend, and I was disappointed but it’s whatever, yanno? And then then you told me about your dad, and threw my expectations to the fucking wolves, and then you asked me to come up to your apartment except you were drunk and you probably didn’t mean it. But then the next time I saw you, you kept flirting with me, which you were not supposed to do, and I kept pretending that wasn’t the reason I even talked to you in the first place, and, uh, yeah.” He smiles nervously. “Surprise?”

“I mean, not really.”

“You’re such an asshole, fuck off. At least pretend to be shocked.”

“It’s not my fault you stare at my legs all the time,” Steve says, affronted. “I know I didn’t do too good in school, but I’m not dumb enough to miss that. Like, hello, my eyes are up here.”

Eddie lets his arms give out, flopping on top of Steve heavily. Steve wheezes. “Am I really that obvious?” He whines into his shoulder. 

“You got sad and pouty when I even looked at another guy.”

“You could’ve fucked him,” he mumbles. “The guy you were dancing with. It wasn’t any of my business. I’m a big boy, I can deal.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to fuck him,” Steve says. “I wanted to fuck you. Can we go back to that please?”

“Thought I was fucking you.”

“Someone’s getting fucked or Robin will kill both of us. I’d like to live tomorrow morning. And not have to deal with any more of her teasing for having no game.”

“You have unfortunate amounts of game,” Eddie sighs, tracing the side of Steve’s neck. It tickles. “It’s kind of embarrassing for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, are we using those condoms or not, Moodkiller?”

“Oh, I’m the mood killer?”

“Yes,” Steve says matter of factly, and pulls him in for a kiss before he can protest.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - So Many GREAT Kisses!

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

(Please notice I am now using 6 dots in all ellipses because according to Taiwanese BL that's how we queers roll. Who am I to argue?)

Sept 2024 Week 3

Ongoing Series - Thai

Jack & Joker (Thai Mon IQIYI) ep 2 of 12 - A most excellent glow up. And it’s still a great show. And I cannot wait to see the many different faces of War. Bring on the Leverage of One action-packed mess. I'm waiting.  

Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) ep 9 of 12 - I’m gonna say this because it drives me crazy. Why are boys in BL, when out and about the countryside, always dressed inappropriately for Thailand? If it’s hot, takeoff your damn jacket. I don’t mean to be crass or crazy or whatever. But don’t wear a jacket when it’s 90° with 90% humidity. In Thailand, jackets are for malls. Meanwhile, I’m an extrovert and that still seemed like an exhausting trip. Although, I suppose they didn’t show all the drive time in the van, when everyone is asleep.

Meanwhile, why are the sides so frustrating in this show? Authentic friends-to-lovers is always a slog. Finally a kiss! And a decent one.

New character? Aw! Hi Yu!!!! Gosh Putter is so cute.

Where were we? Oh yes, Beer is now heartbroken. Always the great fear in F2L that the friendship will be destroyed as a result. And it’s a decent fear. 

On a completely different note, I cannot help but wonder when somebody’s chue len is Beer, if that is because beer was involved in their conception. Like, it’s the name you give your "oops baby" from that drunken night at the club. Don’t mind me. I’m just over here in the corner being crass.

Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 8 of 12 - That was one of the cutest wake up sequences ever depicted. Utterly adorable. And now he’s blind again? Oh my God this is such a soap opera, I can’t even. Meanwhile, wicked ice prince finally made his move. Gah! Why aren’t we getting more of this couple? I always love the sides best with this production house.

I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 10 of 12 - I love a hard fraught game of badminton. Even though we actually didn’t see play. YoIng claiming was so cute!!! And their shower kiss was v hot. Yay little show! Also cute use of the punishment trope!

Kidnap (Fri YT) ep 3 of 12 - The weight upon the shoulders of our idiot good guy kidnapper continues to pile up. So does the affection. The dude playing Q has sanpaku eyes. Cool. He’s not a particularly good actor though. Rough because everyone around him is giving their very best.

The problem is. I'm noticing. I shouldn't be noticing all the talent trying so hard. That usually means there is something wrong with the story, or there was something wrong on the set.

I don't know what to say at this juncture except I have the sinking suspicion this might not actually be a good show. (Covers head and cowers. Don't hate me.) I'd loved to be proved wrong, but my faith is GMMTV is only about 50% these days. And it probably should be lower.

Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 6 of 10 - I was so confused by how we suddenly got on a trip together, that I went back and re-watched the previous installment. And it still isn’t explained. So I have no idea why our leads are on a trip but apparently that’s the next trope to hit. I also have no idea how they're suddenly boyfriends. I’m just generally confused by this episode. It’s like an alt reality. We skipped over all of the stuff where they actually got into a relationship. In general I wasn’t wild about this episode.

The Trainee (Sun YT) ep 12fin - The most realistic thing about this show is that everybody is everybody else’s ex on any given set. I feel that in my bones. Or do I mean boner?

Frankly, both actors look better after a glow up and I guess pretending to be more their actual ages suits them? Considering what was actually done to invoke youth (a lot of the shine and gloss) aging them was an anti-glow up. A great mattification? Well...... this was a somewhat lackluster finale. (Thank you, thank you, the pun was unplanned. It's a gift.)

I don’t know. I guess I wanted to see Jane suffer? Work HARD to get the kid he abandoned back? I would’ve liked to have seen Ryan a little bit more competent and capable and his job. Maybe dating someone else. But I also do not want any more episodes. This was more than enough. So instead no separation, just boyfriends and a montage of their lives together, getting new and better jobs, moving in together, being supportive and sweet, etc... LOOK: It’s never a good sign when I immediately want to rewrite the show that I just saw.

In conclusion:

A story about a group of interns at a commercial video production company. While I genuinely love OffGun, I’m not convinced this was a good vehicle for them. Is it terrible for me to say, I miss their PickRome days? I don’t think they’ve ever had rolls that suited them better. Still, theirs was the best storyline in this ensemble piece masquerading as a BL, although they still fumbled the ending. Thus, I enjoyed about a 1/3 of it as much as possible, and 2/3 of it less than conceivable. 7/10 and I seriously considered dropping it to a 6/10 so don't push me.

Love Sick 2024 (Thai Sun iQIYI) ep 1 of 15 - Not gonna lie I was very skeptical. But I like it fine. Better than I expected because it’s been changed just enough. But it does need to stay changed. I don’t know what I’m trying to articulate here but…... I guess we’ll see.

Live in Love (Sun Gaga) ep 3 of 5 - It’s cute in a weird disjointed way. I’m enjoying it enough, I guess. I do like how forthright and direct Kla is. 

Bad Guy My Boss (Thai Sun Gaga) ep 1 of 10 - Ah. Bully romance. My old frenemy. Of course making this office based means +10 for workplace harassment. Well well well. This will be red flag party town I see. How VERY old school yaoi. It’s all very Cdrama CEO = dudes in suits walking on parquet (minus all the gay sex of course.) The jumping around between times and unfinished scenes is very strange. Is this Starhunter chaos only applied to a timeline?

Imma say this so they hear it at the back. YOU HAVE TO CHANGE THE HAIR. If you do time jumps: change. the. hair. It's the easiest and best clue if you aren't going to apply a filter or other cinematography tricks. JUST CHANGE THE DAMN HAIR STYLE.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

The On1y One (Taiwan Thurs Gaga) eps 9-10 of 12 - And now we all start using six dots in our……? A new coded way to indicate that one is into BL? I did think we were in a slight mire with ep 9, too much teacher filler. Not enough time spent with our boys. Meanwhile, sports day. Pouty Baby utilizing the power of Ge, in front of all of the classmates who do not realize how hard he is flirting and activating babygirl = one of the greatest things ever to happen on my screen. Essentially this was a version of the claiming trope, only nobody knew it but the two of them. Fucking genius. Yes, I watched it multiple times. Then babygirl is injured, the carrying and the flirting!!!! Gah!

I don’t mean to trivialize the show, but this is me and I can trivialize everything even something as brilliant as this. But that conversation about history at the beginning of ep 10...... Was that about topping and bottoming? Because it sure seemed that way.

And then...... Possibly the best only one bed trope twist ever?

This show is so fucking amazing.

And I am so worried about the end.

Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun grey) ep 7 of 10 - I love the kinkyness of our baby boy’s fantasy. Where he is the gift and his boyfriend is in uniform. Very nice. Thank you Japan. Never one to let kinky dogs lie. Also, the premise continues: one half thinks that they are already boyfriends and acts like it, and the other half is still trying to become a boyfriend. It’s absurd in that way that only Japanese miscommunication extraordinaire can be absurd. Also could Kyosuke be any more under his boy’s thumb? 

Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan Tues Netflix?) 1-2 of 10 eps - Shiba is a top lawyer, angular aggressive bespectacled workaholic cat-type (Kitten? Babygirl? Tsundere? Some unholy combination of all 3?) I am reminded I should be more considerate of my potted plants. OMG the teasing and the little tongue sticking out. Haruto is such a flirt. I love this dynamic. What fun! Manic pixie dream boy but MAKE HIM EVIL! Or very high? Or a grifter? I have absolutely no idea what’s going on. But I’m enjoying it. It’s very...... very

First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) ep 7 of 12 - Oh! Good kiss. Smart to have the younger character initiate. I also like that he put a stop to it and then went and had a long conversation with a friend about it. Cautious boy. Also shows how in control of the situation Sea is becoming. It works for this BL since he has the stronger personality. I don't care what the characters say, this is about Sea becoming a rock for Neil.

But the secondary couple is actually winning this show. I want so much more of them. 

Seoul Blues (Korea Fri? YouTube) ep 8fin - I’m not sure that blackmailing and entrapment, especially of your ex, necessarily justifies cheating. Plus I never like it when it’s gays against gays. But what did I expect from this show? This whole series was basically Korea’s version of messy gay. If you liked Only Friends you’ll probably enjoy this bullshit. And they were quite pretty. I, however, am monumentally displeased. 4/10 FATALLY FLAWED but still, basically, BL, however…... do we want to support this kind of behavior?

KOREA PLEASE GIVE US A NEW PROPER BL!! WHERE ARE YOU? WE ARE SAD AND LOST WITHOUT YOU.

It's like now they discovered boys can kiss they can't be happy.

It's airing but...

The Hidden Moon (Sat WeTV) ep 1 of 10 - This is a supernatural romance (my ghost boyfriend trope) by Violet Rain (I Feel You Linger). A man is hired to write an article about an old mansion in Chiang Mai being converted into a café. He sees the ghosts of people who died at the mansion, falls in love with one of them. Was substantially recast. I loved IFYLITA except the ending so I think I'll let this one run it's course you can tell me if it's work tracking down... if they managed to land it. I have my doubts.

Happy of the End (Japan Tues Gaga) - A boy is disowned for being gay, dumped by his boyfriend, and ends up in a dysfunctional co-dependant relationship with his would-be kidnapper. We were due for another messy JBL and it's exactly as expected. I do not like it at all. And ya know what? There is plenty airing. DNF 

In case you missed it

I FINISHED Meet You at the Blossom (China). I ate crow, binged the fucker, and live blogged the experience. I enjoyed it a lot and got quite witty (I think) there are also puns (warning). But if you don't wanna slog though it, here are my final thoughts:

This was undeniably a wuxia and most definitely a BL. Evil stunning princely Cheekbones meets and falls in love with the bisexual disaster Dimples of his dreams. There’s a lot of floaty fighting, tangled plot, and overworked emotions. From start to finish it is exactly as it claims to be, including more than the expected amount of sexual claiming (dubious conscent to the point of rape). I’m not wild about the wuxia genre, but I will tell you what I do like: Very pretty men in flowing robes + eye makeup + hair ribbons wafting about stabbing and kissing each other plus ridiculous soap opera machinations. I also like cheekbones and dimples. AND I love a stupid gay sleeve, okay? There was also truly epic levels of stink-eye, and that too is to be lauded. This show left me grinning like crazy. Was it great? Not really, but it was a great experience and I enjoyed it immensely. 8/10

4 Minutes (Gaga) Ended - Spies reported in to say the ending was not-exactly-unhappy and mostly lackluster. I'm torn over whether to watch. My natural disinclination to binge, meets my dissatisfaction with wishy-washy, is going up against my love of high heat and pretty men. Oh the age old struggle between art and lust.

Mitsuya-sensei no keimakutekina ezuke finished and it’s reported to be solid. Age gap treated with respect. I'm curious, so I'll check it out if I can get hold of non-G-drive subs.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

Still Coming Sept 2024:

9/28 Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YouTube) ?? eps - oh I don't know just Ba Vinh doing his thing with pretty boys again.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

I love love love this execution of the punishment trope. What's Ai going to do to you, Yu? Ride you to death?

I Saw You in My Dream indeed.

Sigh. This show. (Addicted Heroin)

All praise one of BL's best-in-show glow-ups. Nicely done, Jack.

James, on the other hand. Never needs a glow-up. Still the prettiest. Has been since Oxygen. (Battle of the Writers)

He's playing the role of Saint in this show, thank you very much. Speaking of which, wouldn’t that be just the most gorgeous pairing in the entire universe? Saint and James? I’ll be in my bunk. 

Taiwan giving us a boop! Reminds me of Be Loved In House I Do, right up there with TharnType as chronic boopers.

Why is he SO GOOD in this show?

All Frist Note.

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many at-ings.

[snoopychris]

warnings: this is almost 1000 words of chris being a fucking dick to cheerleader!reader. there actually is use of y/n in this, imagine that as your full name instead of your nickname. this is in the nerd!mattiverse but crazy enough matt himself isn’t all that mentioned here… so. no tags! only taglist

in which… it all comes crumbling down after the new year’s party.

when your phone lights up with a notification from matt, your heart sinks. it shatters. you begin to panic and before you know it you’re speeding over to the sturniolo house. you’ve always been able to barge in like you own the place, but ever since New Years you weren’t too sure. When your hand reaches the handle, it all comes back to you.

“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me sweetie.” Chris spits, pulling you away from Matt. you swallow at the action, shaking your head. your voice is shaky but you still manage to speak.

“Chris…” your eyes are pleading, but Chris isn’t having it.

“and you? are you fucking kidding me?” he’s looking at matt now, and you flinch when Chris stomps towards him. he throws a punch towards Matt, and it’s clear that it’s more alcohol than Chris at that point, but Nate interferes nonetheless. matt flinches, but sighs when he never feels an impact.

“Okay man maybe it’s time we get you to bed.” Nate speaks, his eyes widening.

“no im not going to fucking bed! it’s my fucking house. MY fucking party.” Chris yells, trying to escape Nate’s grasp. when the clock strikes 12 and Matt pulls you aside to kiss you anyway, chris is practically a walking cartoon character with steam leaving his ears. he manages to escape Nate’s grasp and grabs your hanging car keys, throwing them out the front door and into his lawn. “go.” your eyes widen at his words, shaking your head.

“c’mon man she’s been drinking.” Nate speaks, pushing Chris away from you.

“i don’t fucking care. she has legs doesn’t she? she can walk.”

matt speaks for the first time in minutes, albeit hesitantly, but he speaks anyway. “chris it’s dark out and it’s dangerous. come on dude just… wait to do this tomorrow.”

“you can walk her then.” Chris spits, shaking his head and walking away from the conversation. there’s tears in your eyes at this point, but every ounce of pride you have is gone and you walk out the door anyway. Matt walks behind you as pick up your keys, walking you home hand in hand. it was only about a 15 minute walk, but it felt like an eternity to you.

you push it all aside and push the door open anyway. when you see chris on the couch, your heart sinks. you begin to make your way up the stairs until he speaks. “i’m forbidding you from seeing him.”

“you forbid me? you forbid me? i’m a grown fucking woman chris you can’t forbid me from dating anyone.”

“when it’s my brother yes i fucking can. and i’m doing it now. you can’t see him.” he stands up and meets you in the middle, your place on the stairs making you equal eye level. you scoff at his words, shaking your head. you avoid his gaze as much as possible, staring at the wall.

“the kid just got waitlisted from his dream school and you think now’s the best time to do this?” you whisper, afraid that if matt hears the argument he’ll break down more than he already was.

when you finally lock eyes, it all clicks. your face drops and your lips part.

“look me in the eyes and tell me that me dating matt has nothing to due with the nate situation.”

chris laughs, no, scoffs at your words and looks away from you. “you’re fucking ridiculous sweetie.”

“christopher i said look me in the eyes and tell me this has nothing to do with those stupid seven minutes in heaven i spent with nate.” you never used his full name. it was an unspoken rule. it was the same way he never used yours.

his hand rubs over his open mouth as he sighs and begins speaking. “so what if it is? you fucked my best friend. and i’ve had to act like it doesn’t fuckin matter for the last two years. he was hurting because of you and you didn’t give a shit! i mean y/n who does that? sleep with someone and then act like nothing happened.”

you let out an exhale at his words, pushing at his chest. “first of all, you literally weren’t even fucking there. second of all, i didn’t fuck him. i gave him head. there’s a difference. third, it’s a fucking children’s game. fourth, and the thing you just cannot seem to comprehend is that nate is the one who told me not to mention it.” you spit, pushing him away. “you can’t forbid me from shit. especially nothing that has to do with my love life. friends don’t do that.”

“well then i guess we’re not friends then.” he mumbles. he tries to keep it quiet but you catch it anyway.

you try your best to keep it together, not for yourself but for matt who’s still waiting for you upstairs, and nod at his words. “guess we’re not then.” chris’ grip leaves your wrist, a hold you didn’t even realize he had, and when he sits back down on the couch, you realize that you’ve just lost your best friend.

tags! : @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbrat @wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @chrisscoraline @m4ttg1rl @princessesgarden @ikyoudreamofme @allylovescody

a/n: it’s always have chris and sweetie ever had a history and never have nate and sweetie ever had a history. you all wanted this.

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔙𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔶 𝔰𝔲𝔭𝔭𝔬𝔯𝔱

Mike munroe x male reader

A request that I received from a really nice person here on tumblr: a small idea I liked for a fic if you like the idea as well. Nothing too big, just a fic about Reader and Chris being brothers and constantly nagging each other about their crushes on Ashley and Mike.

I expanded the request a bit, sorry if I went overboard with it. Hope you enjoyed it.

Tags: set before the event of the game. Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. Chris and the reader are brothers. Some very quick shifts of pov between characters. Jealousy. Mike and Jess/ Emily are not together in this. Friends to lovers. Mike is a flirt.

Words count: 4000

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

𝔉𝔯𝔬𝔰𝔱𝔟𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔱𝔥

𝔉𝔦𝔯𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢'𝔰 𝔞 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔪

𝔗𝔴𝔬 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔞��𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯

𝔄 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲

𝔍𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔶 𝔞𝔱 𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔐𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥 Part 2 of it

For anyone interested, I took inspiration from this clue that you can find while playing as Chris.

The music thumps in the background, a mix of bass-heavy beats and voices blending into a dull roar. You and Chris sit at a small, round table near the back, well out of the action but with a good view of everyone mingling.

"So," Chris says, taking a long, dramatic sip. "You actually spent the whole night staring at Mike. Dude, seriously, you're lucky your eyes didn't burn a hole in the back of his head."

You scoff, leaning back in your chair with a mock sigh. "Like you're any better. When are you actually gonna talk to Ashley? She's cool, she's cute, she's well, out of your league but hey, a guy can dream.”

"Hey, I do talk to her," Chris retorts, feigning offense.

"Uh-huh," you say, raising an eyebrow. "It’s a lot if you can manage to squeak out a sentence before turning red.”

Chris chuckles, crossing his arms. "Fine. Why don't you go up to Mike and tell him what you think? 'Hey, by the way, I've been thinking about how perfect your jawline is all night!’ I'm sure that'll go over great." He did a horrible interpretation of your voice to mock you even further.

You roll your eyes, feeling your cheeks flush just a bit. "First of all, I would never phrase it like that. And second, at least I actually know things about him beyond his favorite book."

"Oh, really? Let's see who knows more about their crush. No cheating. No wimping out. Winner gets bragging rights." Chris leans forward, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

"Bragging rights? How about you admit I'm objectively hotter than you when I win?" you echoed, folding your arms.

"Sure. Whatever fantasy helps you sleep at night," Chris said, grinning as he dramatically cracked his knuckles. “I'll go first since I know you're just dying to hear all the juicy Ashley knowledge."

You chuckle. "Go with your in-depth research, Sherlock."

Chris clears his throat, sitting up straighter. "Fine. For starters, her favorite color is purple."

You make a face, unimpressed. "That's it? You think knowing her favorite color makes you the expert here?"

"Let me finish, smartass. She loves thriller movies. She also has this little habit of chewing on her nails when she's nervous."

You raise an eyebrow, genuinely impressed but unwilling to give him the satisfaction. "Okay, okay, not bad. But that's kid stuff. Let me show you how it's done."

Chris rolls his eyes, clearly not expecting much. "Alright, hotshot. Give me your best Mike trivia."

You sit forward, lowering your voice like you're letting him in on a secret. You have always been good at noticing things. Maybe it was a result of growing up with Chris and when it came to Mike Munroe, your crush, the small things were more than just interesting, they were revealing.

For one, every morning, without fail, he was up before the sun. He’d go for a quick run to stay in shape. You’d always catch glimpses of him at college heading back to his room in a tank top, earbuds in, eyes focused ahead and glimpses of sweat on his forehead.

He had this tough, confident exterior. He wasn’t loud like some of the others in the group. He had a way of using humor to deflect, to keep people from getting too close. You saw it when he’d brush off any talk about specific topics.

And then there were his tastes.

He likes his coffee black. Pretends it's macho. He had a surprising amount of nostalgia in his preferences. You couldn’t forget the time you’ve talked together casually on the lodge, his face lighting up as he talked about his love for old action movies.

Chris raises an eyebrow. "Alright. Maybe you’re better equipped than me. But, let's be real, you wouldn't even know where to start."

"Better than starting with nothing," you counter. "Besides, I could charm him if I wanted to."

Chris raises an eyebrow. "What would you even say?"

You grin, leaning in like you're revealing a grand plan. "I'd just walk up and ask him about his football season. Mention that time he scored the winning touchdown. You instead are hopeless"

Chris nods, pretending to take you seriously. "Oh, sure, because that'll definitely make him swoon. Hopeless? Me?" Chris laughs, leaning back with a smirk. "At least I don't have to worry about being mistaken for a stalker."

You both burst into laughter. For all the banter, you know neither of you would really judge the other for these harmless crushes. It's what makes the night so much fun.

From across the room, you caught sight of Ashley standing awkwardly near a table stacked with half-empty snack bowls and crumpled napkins. She shifted from foot to foot, clearly trying to blend into the background.

"Hey, Romeo. This is your chance," you said, leaning closer and nudging Chris with your elbow.

Chris snapped out of his trance, his head swiveling toward Ashley. His brows furrowed slightly, the corners of his mouth tugging upward in amusement before settling back into a more thoughtful expression.

Chris groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "What am I supposed to do? Walk up and make everything even more embarrassing?"

"News flash: she knows you're a loser," but she clearly likes you anyway. Stop overthinking it. Just go talk to her. Be romantic for once. She loves that whole 'awkward and sincere' thing you've got going on."

"First of all," Chris said, pointing a finger at you, "I'm not awkward. I'm, uh, charmingly self-aware. Second, what if I say something dumb? Or worse, nothing at all? I can't just walk up to her and-"

"You're a coward," you interrupted, shaking your head in mock disappointment.

"Yep," he said, popping the "p" and lifting his cup in mock toast.

You were scanning the room until your gaze landed on Mike Munroe.

He was leaning casually against the wall, drink in hand, chatting with a girl you vaguely recognized from English class. His tuxedo fit him perfectly, tailored in all the right places, the dark fabric catching the light just enough to highlight his athletic build. The black foulard tied loosely around his neck was an elegant touch, a little different from the usual bow ties and neckties most guys wore. His hair was perfectly tousled, like he hadn't even tried but still managed to look effortlessly handsome.

You felt your chest tighten. For a moment, your imagination betrayed you, painting a picture of Mike turning toward you, smiling like he did when he told one of his dumb jokes when he got elected class president. You could almost hear his laugh, warm and inviting, as if it were just for you. But reality snapped back into focus when the girl he was talking to leaned closer.

"Mike would never look twice at me like that." You mumble more to yourself without thinking, unable to keep the disappointment from your voice.

Chris, placed a hand on your shoulder. His touch was light but reassuring. "Don't do that to yourself. You're a catch. If Mike doesn't see that, he's an idiot."

You looked up at him, grateful but unconvinced. Chris stood up, brushing imaginary lint off his jacket. "I'm getting us drinks. Let's make it through the rest of this night together, yeah?"

You nodded, watching as he made his way to the bar. You glance around, your gaze landing once more on Ashley and an idea strikes you. Chris is now far away from your position. It’s your chance to do something.

You stride over to her, flashing a friendly smile, keeping your movements casual so you wouldn't startle her. Her eyes widened slightly when she noticed you, but she relaxed as you softly took her arm.

"Hey," you said, grinning playfully as you gently guided her away from the corner.

Ashley laughed, the sound light and genuine. "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice tinged with amusement but no resistance as you led her toward your table.

"Come on, you can't let Chris and I have all the fun sitting in the corner judging everyone." you replied, glancing over your shoulder with a mock-serious expression.

"That's what you two have been doing all night? Very productive." She scanned the place as you reached the table and she managed to spot Chris at the bar, meticulously mixing something with an unusual level of focus. But then her gaze shifted, catching Mike watching the two of you.

Jaw set, lips pressed into a firm line, eyes tracked the way you gently tugged Ashley along. His gaze lingered on your hand before flicking back up to your face. Lips pressed together in a faint, almost imperceptible scowl, as though something about the sight of the two of you together unsettled him. There was a slight tension in his posture, the way his shoulders seemed just a bit too stiff for someone casually enjoying a party.

Chris returned with two drinks in hand. "Okay, I've done it," he announced dramatically. "The ultimate drink. If you don't like it, I'm never speaking to you ag-" He cut himself off mid-sentence when he saw Ashley sitting at the table, smiling up at him.

"I... uh..." Chris stammered, turning an impressive shade of pink.

"You made this for me?” Ashley asked sweetly, taking the drink from his hand before he could respond. “Thank you, Mr. Bartender."

Chris blinks and he lets out a nervous laugh, giving you a quick glare as he hands the drink to Ashley.

She giggles, taking a sip and you watch as Chris visibly relaxes. They share a smile and there's a warm, unspoken understanding between them, a quiet moment that you can't help but feel a bit envious of.

The music shifts, slowing into a softer, more romantic melody. Couples move onto the dance floor, swaying together in a slow embrace. Ashley’s eyes light up as she turns to Chris, her cheeks flushed with a faint rosy tint from the slight inebriation she feels. "Come on, Chris," she says, tugging at his hand. "Want to go there for a bit?"

Chris's eyes dart to you, searching your face for reassurance, his expression almost apologetic. He's asking, without words, if you'll be okay.

You manage a smile, giving him a nod.

Chris lets out a laugh, his tension melting away as he lets Ashley pull him onto the dance floor. They disappear into the crowd, leaving you alone at the table. You watch them go, feeling a bittersweet pang in your chest as you take in the sight of them together, laughing and smiling, fitting together so effortlessly. Chris fumbling his way through the first few steps before finding his rhythm.

They looked so happy.

And you were here instead, alone at the table, your thoughts inevitably drifting back to Mike.

Chris feels his heart race as he stands on the dance floor, his hands resting lightly on Ashley's waist, her arms draped over his shoulders as they sway to the gentle rhythm of the music. Her gaze meets his every so often, a smile warm and genuine, making him feel like the only person in the room.

"I didn't know you had these moves." she teases, her eyes twinkling.

Chris chuckles, shaking his head. "Oh, trust me, I don't. I'm just doing my best not to crush your toes."

Ashley laughs, her grip tightening on his shoulders as she rolls her eyes. "You're doing just fine. I don't mind if you, you know, relax a little."

"Relax? Yeah, I can... I can do that," he says, voice faltering as he tries to ease into the rhythm, matching her movements as the song continues.

His focus wavers after a while, gaze drifting over her shoulder as he catches sight of his brother sitting across the room at one of the tables with Matt nearby.

There's something off about the way you're holding yourself. You're smiling, sure, even laughing at something Matt is saying, but Chris can tell that the smile doesn't quite reach your eyes. It's the kind of forced expression he's seen on you before, usually when you're trying to act like everything's fine when it really isn't.

Matt, on the other hand, seems entirely oblivious, leaning in a bit too close, his face lit up with that typical over-eager grin. He's almost leaning into your personal space as he chats away, looking way too thrilled to have your undivided attention, his eyes never leaving yours. The proximity feels a bit too familiar, too comfortable, with his arm casually resting on the back of your chair.

Chris feels a pang of protectiveness twist in his gut. He glances around the room, half-expecting Emily to appear and pull Matt back to the dance floor, but there's no sign of her. Instead, he spots her on the far side of the room, tipsy and laughing as she spins around with some stranger she's apparently mistaken for Matt. She's caught up in the music, oblivious to the fact that her boyfriend is practically glued to your side.

Ashley notices his distraction, her gaze softening as she studies him. "Chris?" she asks, her voice gentle, bringing him back to the moment. "Is everything okay?"

He blinks, snapping his attention back to her, guilt creeping in as he realizes he's been distracted. "Yeah, yeah, sorry," he says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Just... got a lot on my mind."

Ashley smiles, tilting her head as she searches his face. "You sure? You can tell me, you know."

Chris hesitates, glancing around the room one more time. His gaze lands on Mike, who's slow-dancing with the girl in glittering dress. She's leaning against him, her head resting on his chest, but Mike's attention isn't on her.

His eyes are locked in your direction, his brow furrowed and his jaw set in a subtle scowl that's hard to miss. There's a tension in his gaze as he watches you and Matt together. There's a faint scowl tugging at his mouth, a subtle clenching of his jaw that makes it look like he's holding back the urge to step in but doesn't quite know how to act on it. His brows are drawn together and his eyes flick between you and Matt with a guarded intensity.

Chris frowns, glancing back at you. It's clear now that something is brewing beneath the surface, something he doesn't fully understand but can sense all the same. He looks down at Ashley, his expression softening as he makes up his mind.

"Hey, Ash?" he asks quietly, feeling a bit awkward but determined. "Would you mind helping me out with something real quick? I, uh... I owe someone a favor.”

You were mid-laugh at something Matt had said about his latest sports practice when a shadow loomed over the table. You looked up to find Mike standing there, holding his drink loosely in one hand and the other casually tucked in his pocket.

"Hey, Matt," Mike said, his tone light but carrying a subtle edge like he's asking for a favor he already expects to be granted. "Mind if I steal him for a bit?"

Matt's smile falters, and he glances at you, a bit reluctant, as if he doesn't quite want to let go of the moment he's carved out. "Uh... well, we were just-"

"Looks like Emily's about to make out with that guy," Mike interrupted, tilting his head toward the dance floor. "You might wanna handle that before it gets messy."

Matt whipped his head around, his face paling slightly as he spotted Emily drunkenly giggling and leaning far too close to the stranger. "Shit," he muttered, scrambling to his feet. "I'll, uh, catch you later." he says to you, giving you a quick nod before he disappears into the crowd.

"Yeah, sure," Mike said smoothly, his smirk widening as Matt hurried off. You glance back at him just in time to catch a wicked grin flash across his face as he watches Matt weave his way toward Emily.

He turns back to you and without a moment's hesitation, he slides into Matt's now-empty chair, shifting it even closer to yours with an obnoxiously loud scrap of wood against the floor. He dropped into the seat with a satisfied sigh. His arm resting along the back of your chair but soon sliding fully around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him.

The warmth of his body, the faint scent of his cologne, earthy with a hint of spice, made your thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. From this close, you could see every detail of his face: the light beard perfectly trimmed along his jaw, the sharp angle of his cheekbones, the infuriatingly perfect way his smirk tugged at one corner of his mouth. He was leaning into his persona, that cocky, playful charm cranked up to eleven and it was doing things to your brain you weren't sure you were ready to admit.

"Well, this is cozy," Mike said, his voice low and smooth. "Didn't think Matt was ever gonna leave. Guy's got some stamina for talking, huh?"

You blinked, struggling to form words. "Uh, yeah. He's chatty"

Mike chuckled, the sound warm and teasing "Chatty? That's the nicest way to put it. Bet he's been boring you to death, huh?"

"Not entirely," you said, though your voice was far too shaky to be convincing. "He's enthusiastic."

Mike raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying how flustered you were. "You're too nice, you know that? If I had to sit through more than five minutes of that guy's rambling, I'd be asleep in my chair."

You laughed, though it came out a little too breathy. "Maybe I'm just better at pretending to be interested."

"Pretending, huh?" Mike's smirk widened. "So, what about me? Are you pretending to enjoy this little moment we're having?"

Your brain short-circuited. "I... I mean, no. I-uh... you're not boring. Definitely not boring."

"Good to know," Mike said, his voice dipping slightly as he leaned in just a fraction closer. "I'd hate to think I was putting you to sleep."

"You're not," you managed to say, your face burning.

Mike grinned, clearly reveling in your flustered state. "You're cute when you're nervous, you know that?"

“I’m not nervous,” you said quickly, though your gaze flickered away from his, betraying you.

“Sure you’re not,” Mike murmured, his fingers brushing just a little too close against your shoulder, the touch lingering for a beat longer than necessary. “What were you and Matt talking about? You looked a little bored." His tone was smooth but there was a faint edge to it now, like he was testing the air.

You noticed the subtle shift in his expression. His jaw tightening just slightly, his eyes narrowing for a fraction of a second as if he didn’t quite like the idea of you and Matt sharing a private moment.

You shrugged, trying to sound casual. "Just sport stuff and his latest victory for his team. He was just being friendly,” you added, trying to sound indifferent.

You didn’t miss the slight tightening of his jaw, the way his eyes flickered just briefly toward the ground before locking onto yours again.

Mike’s lips quirked into a knowing smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, he looked real friendly.” The smirk that followed didn’t help, pulling at the corner of his mouth as if he was more amused than you thought he should be.

You raised an eyebrow, narrowing your eyes at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

For a moment, Mike just stared at you, his expression unreadable. “Nothing,” he said too quickly, the innocence in his voice so forced that you could almost feel the tension cracking around him. The grin stretched wider, like a challenge. “Just saying, if I didn’t know better, I’d think Matt was hitting on you.”

Your breath caught in your throat and a flush of heat spread across your cheeks. You tried to play it off, but there was no denying the way your heart stuttered in your chest. “He wasn’t,” you said quickly, your voice coming out a little more defensively than you intended.

"Either way. Figured I'd come over and I don't know... make the night more interesting for you. Prom only happens once, right? Gotta make the most of it. Besides—” His voice softens, his gaze locking onto yours with a sincerity that takes you off guard. "—I've been waiting for an excuse to spend some time with you."

You swallow, feeling the heat rise to your face as his words sink in. "You have?"

"Yeah," he murmurs, his thumb grazing your shoulder in a slow, deliberate motion. "I mean, I could've come over sooner but you were busy with your brother. Then you were with Matt and I figured, maybe it's time I got a little selfish."

The intensity in his gaze makes it hard to breathe and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him, caught between disbelief and exhilaration. "I... didn't think you noticed me like that," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mike's grin softens, his hand moving from your shoulder to gently rest on your waist, pulling you even closer. "I notice a lot more than you think," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Like how you always look away when you think I'm watching, or how you get that little crease in your forehead when you're trying not to smile too much."

Mike makes a silent note to himself to later thank Chris for the insights he’d shared minutes ago.

You laugh, feeling both embarrassed and overjoyed. "Okay, now you're just showing off."

He chuckles, his arm tightening around your waist as he dips his head a bit closer, his voice a soft murmur. "Can't help it. You’ve got me so close to losing it and you don’t even realize it." His fingers press gently into your side.

“Dance with me,” he murmurs, his voice low and laced with a tenderness that surprises you. There’s a quiet intensity in his eyes, a vulnerability that makes your heart race. “Let me be the happiest guy in this place tonight.”

You feel your pulse race at the invitation, your mind whirling with both excitement and uncertainty. "What about that girl you were with?" you ask, your voice quiet and hesitant, unable to stop yourself from wondering.

Mike's smirk returns, his hold on your waist tightening slightly as he leans in, his voice a soft, almost possessive murmur. "She's not you. You’re the only one I can’t get out of my head.” His voice is rough, coated in something darker.

You meet his gaze, feeling your breath hitch as you search his face, trying to process the weight of his words.

He takes his chance to lean in, his lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss that leaves your heart racing. His lips crashing into yours with a desperate urgency that leaves you reeling. His hand slides around your waist, fingers tightening as he pulls you against him. The heat of his body sears through your clothes, and his thumb traces a slow, deliberate line along your cheek, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

When he finally pulls back, his lips are swollen, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, that familiar cocky edge in his eyes. His eyes burn with that familiar, dangerous gleam-a challenge, a promise. His breath is ragged, as if he's barely holding back.

"Still up for that dance? Because I've got this new boyfriend I'd really like to show off." he whispers, his voice low and teasing. His breath brushes your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. He looks at you with that trademark mischievous grin, the one that could melt anyone’s defenses.

A rush of warmth floods your chest at his words, a mixture of giddiness and disbelief. Your heart skips, caught between the sweetness of the moment and the thrill of his presence. The corners of your mouth twitch up as you meet his gaze, and though you can barely keep your composure, you nod.

Mike's grin widens and as he takes your hand, guiding you to the dance floor, you feel as if you're floating, lost in the warmth of his gaze and the excitement of being his.

Note: if you liked this, please leave a comment. I love reading them <3

[rottenpumpkin13]

I imagine that AGSZ would get into a Hangover type of situation with Cloud missing in the Wall Market and had to retrace their steps.

The Wall Market Hangover Debacle

• After a night of partying in Wall Market, Sephiroth wakes up in Zack's apartment, of all places. He has a pounding headache, his mouth tastes like pizza, his hair is a mess, he's missing a shirt (concerning when he remembers putting one on), and everything is just wrong.

• And then he notices the baby chocobo in his lap.

• Sephiroth is instantly placated and cares for nothing else.

*Angeal wakes up beside him, equally as confused and bedraggled*

Angeal: Why are you in my bed?

Sephiroth: We're on the floor.

*Angeal notices the random phone numbers and "call me"s written all over his arms*

Angeal Oh my god. Are we in Zack's apartment!? What happened last night? I can't remember anything!

Sephiroth: Are you aware that you're covered in lipstick marks and that your breath smells of kerosene?

Angeal: Are you aware that you have a baby chocobo?

Sephiroth: Extremely aware, actually. The moment I encountered an orphaned infant, my protective instincts kicked in, just like how many mammals are biologically wired to care for vulnerable young.

Angeal: It's too early for this.

Sephiroth: It's 16:00.

Angeal: WHAT?

*He gets up quickly. Sephiroth follows him (with the baby chocobo) and they run over to the kitchen. Zack is laying spread-eagle on his kitchen floor, snoring*

Angeal: ZACK!

*Zack wakes up screaming*

*The baby chocobo kwehs, unsatisfied*

Sephiroth, holding the chocobo close: Your screaming is upsetting the child.

Zack: What happened last night? My head is pounding, I can't remember anything, and—is that a baby chocobo?

Angeal: I can't find my phone! Zack, go get yours and check your camera roll, call history, everything. There's a good chance we got robbed!

Sephiroth: Why do you believe we got robbed?

Angeal: Because this place is a mess! Paint splatters on the walls? A pile of energy drink cans? Glitter everywhere??

Zack: Actually, it was like this before we left last night.

Zack:

Zack: I'm trying out art therapy and collecting energy drink cans for recycling :)

Angeal: PHONE.

Zack: On It!

*Zack stumbles into his room to grab his phone*

• Sephiroth is tending to the baby chocobo, fussing over it as a mother would.

• Angeal is watching Sephiroth tend to the baby chocobo, wondering whether or not he's dreaming.

*Zack stumbles out of his bedroom*

Zack: THERE'S A GIRL IN MY ROOM!

Angeal: What did you do!?

Zack: Nothing! I don't even know her!

• All three of them run into Zack's room and sure enough, there's a girl in a pretty, red dress and long red hair sleeping in his bed.

Zack: She's beautiful, but I fear she'll think lowly of me now that she's woken up in my bed.

Angeal:

Zack: I didn't even make her breakfast. Should I make her breakfast?

Angeal: That's GENESIS.

*Upon hearing his name being yelled, Genesis wakes up*

Genesis: Why am I in the puppy's room?

Zack: Dude, why are you wearing a dress!?

Genesis: What? *he looks down* Oh. OH? Who's the scoundrel who did this to me? Which one of you dolts thought it would be funny to dress me like a doll?

Angeal: It wasn't us. We all woke up out there and I can't remember anything.

Sephiroth: And I woke up with this adorable infant chocobo, carrying all the joy of life in its heart, and it brings me a sense of peace I never knew I needed.

Genesis: Where's Cloud?

*There's deafening silence as they all realize Cloud isn't there*

Genesis: We forgot Cloud in Wall Market!?

Angeal: Shit! Sephiroth, put that chocobo down and call Cloud!

Sephiroth: Notice how I’m cradling the chocobo with one arm while using the other to reach into my pocket and pull out my phone—an action that reflects the care of a devoted parent.

Zack: Man, nice!

*They high five*

Angeal: WHAT PLANET ARE YOU TWO ON!? CALL HIM!

• They try to call Cloud several times but he isn't picking up, which means that there's only one way to go about this: They need to retrace their steps back in Wall Market to find him.

Genesis, while everyone else is getting dressed: I’m still in disbelief that someone snuck up on me while I slept and dressed me in this. The shade of red isn’t even close to what I usually wear, and I would never style my hair pin straight like this—I prefer it curled! Plus, this push-up bra is incredibly uncomfortable.

Sephiroth: Then go get changed.

Genesis: No.

Sephiroth:

Angeal: Okay, I'm ready. Grab your stuff and let's go.

*Sephiroth walks towards the door with the baby chocobo*

Angeal: Seph! Leave the chocobo!

*Sephiroth puts the baby chocobo down but it immediately follows him and jumps back into his arms*

Sephiroth: It’s settled, then. I am now the chocobo’s guardian. From this moment forward, I embrace the role of parent to this delightful creature. I shall nurture it, guide it, and cherish it as if it were my own.

Genesis: I think that if you talk to Lazard you can get paternity leave.

Sephiroth: I already checked, and it appears only maternity leave is possible.

Genesis: I'll help you fake a pregnancy.

Sephiroth: You're a good friend.

Zack: Guys? Guys?? Angeal is having a panic attack!

• Once they reach Wall Market, they go to Madam M first because the last thing Zack remembers is getting a massage before he blacked out.

• It turns out that there's a reason why.

*Zack walks through the door and Madam M throws a shoe and starts screaming at him in Wutaian*

Zack: !?

Angeal: Excuse us, Madam M? We're looking for our friend? Cloud Strife? Have you seen him.

*Madam M is still throwing items at Zack and screaming in Wutaian*

Zack: !!!??

Angeal: He's 5'7, spiky blond hair....

*Madam M is still screaming in Wutaian but now she's doing impolite hand gestures*

Sephiroth: She's calling you a, quote, cheapskate hillbilly with ugly hands.

Zack: Rude.

*Madam M is still screaming*

Sephiroth: And now she's cursing your bloodline both past and future.

Zack: ....

*More screaming*

Sephiroth: And now she said something that if I were to repeat, I would have to empty my life's earnings into Angeal's swear jar.

*Screaming*

Sephiroth: She said that you came in here last night, asked for the finest massage, and then tried to pay with a friendly hug.

Zack: Oh yeahh! I remember now. I was trying to see how far positivity stretched.

Genesis: So you robbed an establishment.

Zack: Hey, the hug was enough for the hot dog stand guy! It was enough for the dude selling counterfeit Sephiroth plushies!

Mandam M: I haven't seen your friend. You weren't with him yesterday. Try Andrea. The loudmouthed one in red was very instant last night that your little group go to the Honeybee Inn next.

*They all turn to Genesis*

Genesis: Oh please. What are you all implying by those judgemental looks? That I dragged us to the Honeybee Inn for a night of sin that resulted in Cloud's disappearance??

• At the Honeybee Inn.

*Andrea runs up to Genesis and embraces him as soon as they walk through the door*

Andrea: My darling! I thought the day would never come when you’d grace us with your presence again! You are the very essence of radiance in this establishment! Never has there been a soul more attuned to the fluidity of gender, the artistry of theatrical performances, and the tantalizing allure of rebellion!

*Everyone looks at Genesis, long and hard*

Genesis: I've never seen this man in my life.

Andrea: I see you're still in the fabulous outfit I gifted you last night.

Genesis:

Angeal: Really, Genesis? Honestly, I’m relieved I don’t remember a thing, because I can’t even begin to imagine the shame I’d feel knowing what you did here.

Andrea: Ah, Angeal. You came to pick up your wallet and Shinra ID, I presume?

*He hands them to him*

Angeal: Oh, wow. That's dangerous. I can't believe I'd lose track of these.

Andrea: Yes, well, when you started stripping you threw your pants into the crowd and the wallet went with it.

Genesis: HAAA!

Angeal, irritated: Where's Cloud?

Andrea: Your friend was never here. You were only a group of four when you were sat at one of the tables, and I do believe Commander Rhapsodos mentioned that you were coming from Sam's Delivery Service.

Zack: The chocobos!! That makes so much sense! Come on guys!

• At Chocobo Sam's

Zack: Excuse us, sir! We're looking for our friend, Cloud. Andrea said that we were here last night, but we can't remember anything.

Sam: Yeah, you were here to rent a chocobo to ride around the market on. But you came here as a group of four. There ain't no Cloud here.

Everyone: WHAT?

Sam: Yeah, but from the way you returned Goldie, all covered in glitter and trinkets, I take it you took her for quite the ride around Wall Market.

Angeal: Goldie??

*Chocobo Sam points at one of the chocobos and suddenly everything makes sense*

Zack: Ohhh, that's right! We never came here with Cloud! It was a chocobo all along!

Genesis: I cannot believe we were fooled by our faulty memory.

Angeal: Yeah, I guess in all the confusion, everything got mixed up, and we ended up thinking the chocobo was Cloud.

Zack: An honest mistake.

Sephiroth: Which he would kill you for if he knew. Excuse me, sir, but I have a question. Would this adorable creature happen to be Goldie's child?

Chocobo Sam: No, son. We ain't got no baby chocobos here. That one there belongs to you.

Sephiroth: I see. It seems this chocobo has become my responsibility, and I wouldn’t dream of parting with it. It’s more than just a creature in my care—it’s my child now, and I’ll protect and nurture it as such.

*The chocobo leaps from his arms and runs to play with the other chocobos, leaving him behind*

Sephiroth:

*Sephiroth drops to his knees*

Sephiroth: BETRAYAL. DISLOYALTY. ABANDONMENT—

*They grab Sephiroth and haul him off kicking and screaming*

Zack: We'll get you a puppy!

Sephiroth: I DON'T DESIRE A PUPPY.

Zack: SLANDER. DEFAMATION. INSULTING—

*Chocobo Sam watches them walk away and disappear around the corner*

Chocobo Sam: This day cannot get any weirder.

*The spell wears off and the baby chocobo turns back into Cloud*

Cloud: SONS OF BITCHES.

Chocobo Sam: