#nothing funnier than interrupting a conversation w like.

[mars-ipan]

good and correct tags

Don't get me wrong the USA is a hell country and most of what is considered usamerican culture is a fucking NIGHTMARE and a lot of us are suffering both in and out of the country bc of it but. There's certain things that people outside of the USA make fun of and not in a jovial way that I'm like hmm. Fucka you actually

[wandsandwheezes]

My Protector | G. W

T/W ; mentions of mudblood, fighting, aggression, angst, SMUT (incl. oral - male receiving, fingering, sex, choking, thigh riding) drinking/mentions of alcohol

A/N - In honour of reaching 200 followers (I’m literally in shock) I wanted o to present you with my boy in the longest fic i’ve ever written (3.9k) - I hope you love it as much as I do 🧡

taglist (let me know if you want adding or removing) - @whiz-bangs78 @hufflepuffgirly @witch-and-a-half @theweasleysredhair @weasleysflowr @sarcasticallywitty15 @wand3ringr0s3

You hated this feeling, the heat of a hundred pairs of eyes burning holes in the back of your head. The decision to make things official with George was a massive step in your relationship. Months of sneaking around in hidden corridors, holding hands under tables and stealing kisses in the moonlight wasn't enough for the proud boy. It wasn't enough for you to just be his, he wanted people to know and more importantly wanted to make Malfoy know. 

The platinum haired boy had his eye on you the moment you stepped into the great hall on the evening of the Yule Ball, in a stunning baby blue gown that accentuated your gorgeous curls and perfectly done makeup. The one problem Malfoy had with you, however was that you were muggleborn. From that day on, he made your life a living hell. 

You took your seat in the great hall, across from Hermione, who was all too engrossed in the book she had her nose in, to notice that you and George had sat down. You immediately lent into his side, his arm slung around your shoulder. You had dazed off, and before you knee it, you had been absentmindedly staring over at the table of Slytherin boys for about five minutes. You hated the sight of him, Draco Malfoy was a smug prick who had nothing better to do to bide his time other than pick fun at other people. 

"Hey, Love are you alright?" George whispers sweetly in your ear, you nod and lean up to press a small kiss to his cheek, he gives you a reassuring squeeze before getting up, "I need to pee, plus I'm sure Fred's off getting himself into trouble." you grab his hand before he rushes off, pouting up at him, he chuckles a little, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before leaning to whisper in your ear. "I really won't be long, Princess, I promise."

Draco watched George leave with piercing eyes, before standing up nand grabbing Crabbe and Goyle by the backs of their robes to force them up also before making his way over to you, "Oh look, isn't it nice for the filthy mudbloods to all group together." he sneered, his harsh gaze never leaving you. Hermione scoffs, forcing her book closed, "Oh look, Is someone back to get punched again? I can arrange another broken nose for you, Malfoy, now shove off and find something better to do." 

Watching Hermione stand up to Draco every time he has something mean or hurtful to say was an amusing sight to see, but watching poor Malfoy run off with his tail between his legs was even funnier. "I don't know how you have the courage to stand up to him like that." you admit, grabbing a pastry from the platter, pulling a piece off to pop into your mouth. She smiles up at you, "You really get the confidence when you've already broken his nose once."

George returned back to you, with Fred behind him, In time to see Draco running out of the Great Hall, followed by Crabbe and Goyle. "What sent those foul gits running off?" fred jokes, filling up a cup with orange juice. "It was nothing, just Malfoy being precious about blood purity, as usual, I set him in his place" Hermione stated plainly, George squeezes your thigh under the table, causing you to look up at him, having a small conversation just in glances 'you okay?' you nod, arm linking around his before holding his hand that was on your thigh. 

It was an awful day for a quidditch match, it was thunderous and grey outside, each lightning strike made the whole pitch light up and erupt with roars of students supporting their teams. You were stood in the Gryffindor stalls, wrapped up in one of George's coats and a warm scarf, but not even the best outerwear could protect you from the torrential rain. 

The way the team played was absolutely phenomenal, Fred and George being star beaters as always had helped the team be up 30 points against slytherin. Harry and Malfoy were both nowhere to be seen, no doubt fighting over the golden snitch way above the low clouds that made the visibility during the match absolutely dreadful. 

Harry came barrelling down from the clouds, clutching the golden snitch in his hands, meaning that Gryffindor had won the match - news you were overjoyed to hear as now you could finally get into some warm clothing. You made your way down from the stands to the pitch where you'd promised George you'd meet him. 

"Good game, Harry! That Malfoy give you any issues above the clouds?" George joked, pulling Harry into a half hug before he was interrupted. "Seems you can't keep my name out of your filthy little mouth can you, Weasley?" Draco was storming over, clearly agitated by yet another slytherin loss to the Gryffindor team. "after all I'm not surprised, you have been fucking that mudblood Y/L/N for god knows how long, you don't know where that mouth has been."

"George, Leave it, let's go." Angelina turns the red haired boy away from the slytherin team, but Alicia, had already spoken up to fight your corner, "How dare you!" Harry pulls Alicia away before retaliating at the Slytherin boy "Go find someone else to inflate your ego" Draco laughs, slicking his wet hair back with his gloved hand "Finally grown a backbone have we, potter? Or did Mummy finally teach you to stand up for yourself… sorry my mistake, mummy's dead, isn't she?" 

This was enough for Harry and George, who had broken free of Angelina's grip, there were yells and screams as the boys brawled, the Slytherin team landing a few punches before George loses it , grabbing Malfoy by his quidditch robes, throwing him to the ground. He lands one clean punch to his ribcage, squatting down to get close to his face. "If you say one more thing about my girlfriend I will not hesitate to end you, don't look at her, don't touch her or even breathe the same air as her ever again, understood?" George's large hand had clamped around Malfoy's chin forcing him to look into his eyes, Draco was petrified, or at least he felt that way. 

All you could hear were yells and screams as you approached the two teams and you got the gut feeling that something wasn't quite right. You picked up your pace to run over to the group, seeing Harry and George bent down next to Malfoy, your eyes widening when you saw Harry had a bloody nose and George had a cut across his lip. Your hands wrapped around George's bicep, pulling him away from Draco, you looked back at him as he was still on the floor, he had tears in his eyes and his hand was clutching his side. 

George's arm was wrapped around you protectively as the team headed back to the changing rooms. “What happened, George” you whispered. “Later.” he replied quickly - you assume to stop himself from going back and doing any more damage. You were shivering as the rain had soaked you down to your skin, trying not to focus on how cold you were as you sat on one of the benches, waiting patiently for George to collect his things. He looked down at you, standing shirtless while he balls up his quidditch robes,only to shove them in his bag. He gives you a gentle smile, turning around to place some of his things into his lockers, as much as he was smiling, you knew he was still riled up, as the muscles across his back were tensing and untensing. You couldn’t help but think about how toned he was getting, your mind travelling to a more intimate space with him. 

You were only pulled from your thoughts as his warm hand pressed to your jaw, thumb running over your cheekbone, “Ready to go, Love?” he asks softly, you look up and notice that his lip was still bleeding, you frown standing up to wipe away the blood, he hisses a little dabbing his middle finger against the source of the sting, he looks down at the small amount of blood on his finger before wiping it against his jeans. “Fuck’s sake...” he mutters under his breath, you grab his hand, lacing your fingers together. “I’ll patch you up, Georgie, just tell me what happened.” He sighs, pulling your hand up to press a kiss to your knuckles. “Let’s go then.”

You decide on avoiding the common room until you’d patched him up, making your way towards the prefect’s bathroom. He explains that Malfoy was being absolutely vulgar with his poisonous words, not only joking about Harry’s late mother, but speaking ill of your blood purity, saying that it was enough to push him over the edge. You’d had him leaning against one of the sinks, as you work to mend his split lip, muttering ‘Episkey’ as he rambles about how out of line Malfoy was. “You know he said pretty much the same thing to Hermione and I over breakfast the other day, it’s been like this all year.” He moves to get up, but you stop him, pushing him by his chest to sit back down. “I’ll fucking kill him.” you shake your head, giggling and pressing a kiss to his cheek, only for him to wrap his arms around your waist, picking you up and spinning you around, causing your giggles to turn to full belly laughs. 

A loud cough caused you both to look toward the source of the sound, seeing Myrtle sitting on the top of one of the stall doors. “Oh how beautiful it is to watch you two!” she giggles “I wouldn’t mind seeing this Weasley shirtless!” your eyes widen, holding in a laugh as you look up at George. “He’s still my boyfriend, Myrtle” she gasps, dropping down from the stall, looking over at you both. “Fine! I promise it’ll only be a peek… no? I guess I’ll give you some privacy then” she rolls her eyes before whirring off to dive into her toilet.

“There he is!” Fred yells as you both finally enter the common room, “You should’ve seen him and Harry, it was like lightning how quick they were on that snake… Nobody speaks like that about Y/N and Lilly and gets away with it!” the older twin was gossiping to the rest of the weasley family, as well as some of their friends. The celebration was already in full swing, many students already tipsy off the firewhiskey and others huddled in groups talking. “Alright, Fred, It’s all well and good until they go and get themselves banned, or even expelled for brawling like that” Hermione adds, Ginny shakes her head, looking over to Angelina and Alicia for support, “he definitely provoked them, honestly the foul git brought it on himself” Alicia responds.

The more the night went on, the more obvious it was that George was basically undressing you with his eyes. You could tell the pent up anger was getting to him, he was sat in the corner by the fire, brooding, his posture was awful but he was sat with his legs spread, elbow propped up on the arm rest, biting at his nails. You had to admit he looked glorious, his hair had now dried up from the rain, leaving a small wave to the ginger locks in its absence. You’d changed earlier in the night to a pair of leggings and a sweater that used to belong to George, key word being used because you had zero intent in giving it back. He was looking you up and down as you danced with Ginny, Angelina and Ron. 

George pictured you walking over to him, straddling his hips and pulling him into a deep kiss. All he wanted was to run his hands slowly up your spine because he knows it drives you crazy, he wished he could pull your hair to expose your neck to him, he wanted to mark you so people knew you were his. He pushed the emerging thought of strangling Draco to the back of his head, replacing it with the image of choking you, his whole hand wrapped around your neck, and just squeezing as he’s fucking you into the mattress. Then he remembered the sounds you’d make, how your breath would shudder and how you would beg  him for more. He was driving himself insane, he muttered a low “fuck…” under his breath when you locked eyes.

Unknowing of his thoughts, you wave him over to the group with a pout, of course he concedes, pushing himself off of the chair, and walking over to you, he smiles innocently at you, grabbing your face with both hands as he kisses you. You go to deepen the kiss, after all you’d been watching him all night and you knew that the inevitable would happen; the way he'd started by cupping your cheeks, fingers threading to the back of your head, threatening to pull at your hair, he wanted you to moan into the kiss, but not here. He wanted that sound to be for him and him only. You pull away, saving your friends and his family watching the show he was putting on. He was restraining himself from throwing you over his shoulder as you look up at him with your begging eyes, that’s how this game started. Begging. 

He’d gotten into the rhythm of dancing with you when he leaned down to whisper on your ear. ‘Be a good girl and go wait for me upstairs will you?” you press a kiss to his cheek, before walking away from him, your fingertips being the last thing to leave each other. George’s eyes immediately shot to Fred, walking over to him with his hand shoved into his pockets. “My dearest Freddie-” Fred cut him off, rolling his eyes “I’ll keep them out of the room, it’s all yours… just no sex on my bed, I’d like to keep at least one of them sacred” George rolled his eyes, “It was one time, Fred” he goes to walk away, causing his brother to raise his voice “That’s one time too many!”

You’d practically jumped onto the redhead when he entered the room, pressing another kiss to his lips, glad you’d taken the time to heal it earlier on, he muttered a small ‘jump’ wrapping your legs around his waist. He did contemplate fucking you on Fred’s bed for a moment, but decided against it quickly. His hands found your ass, grabbing it with a sense of roughness, he wasn’t going to let go this quickly. After all you’d hardly been begging at all. Your soft moans against his lips told him that you knew it was game on, sitting on the edge of his bed, your legs straddling his thighs. He’d had an idea, It was filthy - he wanted you to be a whimpering mess while you were both fully clothed. He was craving it now, he wanted you whining mercilessly and he wanted it now. “How do you feel about riding my thigh, princess?” one of his hands was cupping your jaw, running a thumb over your swollen lips, you instinctively took his thumb between your teeth, licking at the pad of his thumb, you nodded slowly, moving so that your hips were straddling his right thigh. 

You’d started off, curling your hips ever so slightly, you were only testing the waters but you didn’t expect it to feel this good. “That’s it baby, you’re doing so well.” he praised, his hands slipping under your shirt, his fingertips tracing the line of your spine, causing you to shiver, he had you in the palm of his hands as you began to quicken your pace, his eyes were locked on yours as he began to bounce his leg ever so slightly. Your moans were growing louder and his eyes were growing darker. “Mmh. George, that feels so good, baby.”

Your head was buried in the crook of his neck as you were getting yourself off on his thigh, It was truly sinful, you knew you were getting close, but he did too. His hands gripped your hips in a way that you knew would leave bruises, but you didn’t mind, not in the slightest. He pulled you off of his thigh, denying you an orgasm. If this was the game he was playing, you’d play along, sinking to your knees, nestling between his legs. Your hands felt his bulge, eyes fogged with lust as you palmed, using the other hand to help free his cock from his jeans. 

‘I’m so fucking lucky,’  he thought as your tongue darted out to lick at his tip, teasing him ever so slightly, you knew you were pushing your luck but you continued to tease him. “Don’t do that, Princess, It won’t end well for you.” he warns, hands tangling in your hair to pull it out of the way, guiding you down his length, he knew you could take it all. His good girl.

It didn’t take him long to give in, you’d managed to get him almost completely naked yet you were still fully clothed, he had let you lie back against the sheets, they smelled uniquely of him and you breathed in the scent, it sent your eyes rolling back, as he slowly pulled down your leggings along with your underwear. “I don’t think you’re ready for cock quite yet, are you?” his fingers ghosted up your legs. “Fingers or tongue, your choice angel… use your words for me.”

You whimpered, “Fingers please, Georgie,” you mewled, he smirked nodding “They were always your favourite weren't they?” he brought his fingers up to your lips, instructing you to suck, which you obliged in doing, taking two of his fingers past your lips, swirling your tongue around them. “Good girl.” he removed his fingers from your lips, using his middle finger to trace over your entrance before gently pushing in the one finger, “already taking one so well, can you handle another? I think you can” 

He was fingering you at an agonising pace as his thumb circled your clit, he knew he had the ability to make you come undone in minutes if he just curled his fingers up a little more. He could let you cum now, on his fingers, but he could’ve let you find your high on his thigh earlier on, but he didn’t. He wanted you to Beg. “I’m so close,” you whined, bucking your hips up to meet his fingers in hope for release, instead he shakes his head, pulling his fingers from you, taking them into his mouth, licking them clean “I bet you want to cum, don’t you baby?” he was smirking, now “I haven’t heard you beg once, you clearly don’t need it.” you grab the back of his neck pulling him into a swift kiss, pulling his lower lip between your teeth as you pull away. “Fuck me please, George, I need you so bad.” you’d used his weakness against him as you bit on his lip and he had to oblige, you were still left in his sweater, but seeing you in just that was enough for him.

“Anything for my girl.” His finger circled your clit again for a few moments, teasing you with the tip of his cock. When he finally started fucking you, he had to adjust to just how tight you were as your pussy begged for release. The air was a mix of moans and grunts as he set his relentless pace. You were scratching at his back as he fucked you into his mattress, only one thing left to complete his daydream. His hand wrapped around your throat, restricting your air for a few moments before releasing, your airy breathy moans were enough for him to feel his release coming. “Are you close, princess? Can you cum for me?” 

You came together with one long grunt from him, his hands were massaging your thighs as you came, his demeanor switching completely, pulling on a pair of underwear before scooping you up into his arms, letting you rest against his chest as your legs wrap around his waist, he pulled his duvet up, allowing you to crawl under the warm covers, him joining you in the single bed, “Mm I’m sleepy,” you pouted, leg slung over him and your head against his chest. “Then sleep here, angel.” His hand was smoothing over your hair, listening to your breathing regulate “My Protector.” You mused, leaning up to press a kiss to his clavicle.

Greeting your friends the next morning with groggy eyes, you slumped into the bench in the great hall, grabbing a slice of toast. Fred wiggled his eyebrows at you, causing you to throw your crust at his head “I take it you and George had fun last night?” he laughed, “Why, Jealous are you, Freddie?” he rolls his eyes, scoffing. “No, pfft, I had a FANTASTIC night thank you!”

You notice Malfoy sat at the slytherin table arm in a sling, pandering to girls like Pansy attempting to make his life ‘easier’. You nod into the direction of the nonsense “He’s absolutely milking it.” you laugh, as George slides into the seat next to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek “He did the same thing a few years ago, what a little bitch.” Ron adds, the group erupts into laughter, it was true. Draco was a little bitch and suddenly you felt the confidence to say something about it. “Watch this,” you say, standing up but George grabs your hand “You’re not going over there.” you place a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll be fine, Georgie.” 

“Aw, Malfoy do you need all the girls around you to fill the whole now mummy isn’t here to patch you up?” The girls snigger with each other, Draco goes to speak up but is met with George’s glare from across the room, making him shut his mouth for once in his life. “cat got your tongue?” you laugh, recognising the glint in his eye, it was the same look George used to give you before you were together, and you realise why he’d been acting so harshly towards you, he was crushing. You laughed at the thought, rolling your eyes.  “Honestly, I expected better, the Quidditch team is right, you really are a little bitch.” you spin on your heel, heading back to your friends with another eye roll and a smile back at them as they laughed from their table. 

“I don’t think we’ll have a problem with Draco for a while.” you joke, sitting down, to enjoy a peaceful breakfast surrounded by your friends. “Well done for standing up to him, I’ll reward you later if you want.” George whispered in your ear, you grabbed his thigh under the table with a small nod. You were in for another treat tonight.

[softsillytwsted]

Among Us with the First Years

Yall guess who’s late to the party! I played a long session with my friends and it jump-started my writing.

Warnings: mentions of blood and violence.

General

First of all, the number one rule of this game is to keep quiet and stay anonymous until the next meeting, but no one follows this. For one thing, y’all are sitting in a circle while playing this so it’s hard not to talk

Ace also finds it extremely funny to mess with Deuce and Sebek

Then there’s Grim who can’t play and is instead back-seat playing on your lap. He is also honest to a fault so it’s obvious when you two are the imposter

Ace, Deuce and Epel are always down to play, but it takes Jack and Sebek some goading for them to join. Luckily Jack never backs down from a competition and Lilia encourages Sebek to ‘enjoy his youth’

You all usually play a quick game during lunch time or do sleepovers at Ramshackle and play all night long

ANGRY RANTS IN THE GHOST CHATS

The emergency button was pushed. “Speed run on Ace let’s go!”

Ace

Ace uses the red character with the cherry hat

He’s the best at this game hands down

This smooth talker is good at persuading people, especially Deuce, to his side

He can also start a harmless conversation while murdering someone in cold blood like a psychopath

Maybe because he loves playing tricks on people that he’s able to use sabotages to his full advantage

Although Ace is the best at the game, because he’s a little shit he’s on everyone’s hit list and will die if he’s not careful

Surprisingly enough, Deuce isn’t Ace’s favorite person to kill. It’s Sebek. Sebek’s reactions just make everything funnier.

Ace looked at the task bar. “It’s been silent for awhile now. Who’s not done with their tasks yet?”

“I’ve finished,” replied Epel, the pouting ghost.

“Same,” you chirped while Grim huffed in your lap.

“I finished too,” Jack, the ghost, responded as he hovered disapprovingly at the imposter in-game.

“I-I still got a few left...” Deuce muttered.

“I have a few left as well,” Sebek declared. You/Grim, Deuce, Sebek and Ace are the only ones alive. 

“Well, I’m done,” Ace sighed. “Can you two hurry up? It’s getting kinda boring waiting around like this.”

Oxygen tanks have been sabotaged.

“Funny how this happens right after you said that!” Grim accused Ace. “Y/n! Get the top one, the top one! We’re not gonna lose this game!”

“Alright already! Deuce stop panicking and finish up your tasks. Ace or Sebek should do-”

The moment you reached your destination, you watched helplessly as Ace’s cherry red character slashed your character in pieces. Grim hissed in annoyance as you silently stared up at Ace. He winked at you.

“-the bottom one...”

Deuce

Deuce uses the dark blue character with the egg

Ace is the first person he goes after when he’s the imposter

Unironically likes to do the tasks and is the fastest at doing them

He also can’t multi-task. Focusing on his tasks while watching out for corpses and the imposter is impossible for him

Will literally run past a corpse 5 times before finally noticing it

This boy isn’t good under pressure especially when everyone is yelling at him. If the oxygen tanks or reactor is sabotaged, Deuce will bang on every wall before reaching it 

Also can’t come up with a good alibi when accused

Epel pushed the emergency button.

“I believe Deuce is the imposter... when I was passing by I saw him standing still in the hallway and when I came back he was still there.”

“W-what? No no no I wasn’t! I was moving around! I’m not the imposter!” 

“That sounds exactly like what an imposter would say!” Sebek barked.

“Yep, I definitely think Deuce is the imposter,” Ace chuckled. Ace doesn’t really care if Deuce was the imposter or not. The frustrated look on Deuce’s face as he tries to think of a way to clear his name fueled the ginger’s amusement. 

“I don’t know, maybe he was just taking his time looking at his map like the last few games?” You tried to defend Deuce, but only Jack agreed with you.

“Nah let’s kill him.” Ace

“Ya.” Epel

“Ditto.” Grim

“Agreed.” Sebek

“...” Jack

And so Deuce was ejected into space where it was revealed that he in fact was not the imposter. He pouted at his phone, still trying to figure out where to go next. “I told you I’m innocent.”

“Cheer up Deuce! Next time should be better,” you giggled at him. Deuce perked up at your laughter and beamed at you.

“Thanks for believing in me back there. I can count on you next time right?”

“...Deuce did you forget the imposter is chosen at random?”

The imposter was later revealed to be Epel.

Jack

Chose the white character with the ski goggles

The second worst player in the game

Is the person who always enforces others not to group together, but when he sees two people in a room he will hover over the door to make sure one of them won’t kill the other

The boy has a hard time lying and faking doing tasks and everyone exploits this

The quickest games are when he’s the imposter and sometimes it’s over before he can even kill someone

When Jack is innocent: “Jack are you the imposter?” “No”

When Jack isn’t: “Jack are you the imposter?” Ears flat, tail lifeless “...”

This game gives him the worst existential crisis because a part of him wants to play with all his might but the other JUST. CAN’T. LIE.

You found Sebek’s cold body lying in the admin room. All hell breaks loose once you report the body.

“FINALLY SOMEONE FOUND MY BODY! I was getting frustrated when SOMEBODY keeps passing me,” Sebek shouts while looking pointedly at Deuce.

Deuce shamefully looks away.

“Alright let’s start with the usual questions,” you began and turned to Jack. “Jack are you the imposter?”

“...No.”

“Okay Jack’s out-”

“Hold it! We shouldn’t rule out Jack just because he said so!” Ace interrupted you with a scowl on his lips. Jack snarled at the accusation. 

“Are you calling me a liar?” he growled out. Unperturbed at the 192cm wall of muscle who was bristling at him, Ace’s face twisted into a mocking smirk.

Well I ain’t calling you a truther. “That’s the whole point of the game! For all we know, you could’ve finally wizened up and are lying to us now!”

“...Ace has a point,” Deuce held his chin in thoughtful agreement. On the other hand, you and Epel were conflicted. 

“I’d say we vote Ace out,” Grim said with a sly grin on his face. “I saw his character look at us funny.” The little monster still held a grudge against Ace for saying Grim sucked at the game. (”But it’s true! You’re paws can’t even hit the buttons!” “Shut up Ace!”)

“That is suspicious,” simple, easily swayed Deuce agreed. 

“Wait wait wait! How the fuck does that make sense?” Ace retorted. At the same time, Grim began smashing his paws at the screen and managed to vote for Ace. (“Hah! Take that Ace!”)

Deuce cast his vote immediately after, and Jack followed up while sending an amused smirk towards Ace. Epel was red in the face from trying to hold in his laughter from the silliness of it all. Eventually, he managed to vote for Ace.

Ace was ejected into space. Crew mates win.

“Lucky guess,” Ace grumbled under his breath.

Epel

Epel chooses the purple character and uses the straw hat

Has the most wins under his belt and is that one player that never gets killed 

Epel usually plays it safe until someone riles him up and now he’s killing like he’s got something to prove

The master of vent assassinations.

Seriously. Usually when the first body gets reported, it’s been discovered that two other people have been killed already.

Tends to go on cams more than do the tasks

You, Ace and Jack were doing tasks in the electrical room. The lights go off and Epel’s purple character jumps out of a vent to stab you with its tongue. When the lights come back on, Epel is gone. Jack discovers your dead body and reports it immediately.

“It was Ace. I was in the same room with him and Y/n when the lights were off. Then he killed Y/n.”

“Hah? No way why would I do something that obvious?”

“So you admit you’re the imposter?”

Everyone votes Ace out. You discreetly squint at Epel for being so devious, but the lavender-haired boy only smiles sweetly at you in return. You were Epel’s first kill in this round, so after you finished your tasks you spent the rest of the game following him around. 

You quickly realized that nothing was more frightening than Epel, a 156cm ball of fury.

You watched him hide in the medical room’s vent while Jack was being scanned. The minute Deuce, who stuck around to see Jack start the scan, left the room Epel jumped out and murdered Jack in cold blood. You saw Jack flinch as his character died, but he resumed his tasks without a grumble.

With only two people left alive, Epel stalked the halls to look for his last kill. He found both Sebek and Deuce in the cafeteria. One is at the vending machine, and the other is at the garbage disposal. Deuce finished first and spied Epel heading towards Sebek. “Oh Epel, did you finish your ta-” he watched as Epel’s character slashed into Sebek. The game ends soon after.

Thanks to Epel, the kill cool down was extended... again.

Sebek

Chose the lime green character with the horns (”THEY’LL NEVER BE AS MAJESTIC AS WAKA-SAMA’S”)

Living in the Valley of Thorns has him unfamiliar with technology in general so he’s extremely clumsy with the controls.

He also has a hard time navigating the area and is always hitting the walls and missing the doors

Also the slowest at doing tasks 

Speaking of tasks, there was one game where he thought he finished all of them and he ended up giving the imposter enough time to kill everyone (”If the tasks are not all green that means you didn’t finish them!” “WHAT!?”)

Sebek is very mission-oriented and although he considers it beneath him to lie, he will to fulfill his objective

Will go the long way around to try and avoid his shifty friends

Absolutely fun to tease but not the worst at the game to be fair

“Wait so who did you see kill Jack, Deuce? Sebek or Hot Sebek?” you asked the teal-eyed teen. 

“For the last time STOP USING MY NAME!”

“Quiet normal Sebek,” you shushed him. “Let Deuce talk.”

“It was the hot one... H-hot Sebek.” Poor Deuce tried so hard to contain his laughter as he spoke. Ace was already rolling on the floor and Epel was stifling a chuckle with his hand.

Sebek was fuming but stayed quiet while everyone else voted. Soon Hot Sebek AKA Ace gets ejected into space and the crew members win.

“We’re starting a new session and this time no one else will use my name. GOT IT?”

“Sounds good,” Jack said as he glowered at Ace. “I don’t understand why you would want to hide your identity. We should all face each other with everything bared - fair and square!”

“That is exactly right, Jack! Cowardly tactics should be frowned upon!”

Ace deadpanned, “Did you guys forget that’s the whole point of the game?”

[crazygalore]

MICHAEL CORLEONE ( THE GODFATHER TRILOGY ) NSFW ALPHABET

Disclaimer: My portrayal of Michael Corleone is almost exclusively movie-based. I have read the book and respect it for what it represents, but I have a preference for movie Michael, since I first watched the film, and only read the book years later. That being said, I will selectively borrow elements from the novel here and there, if and when I see fit.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

After having lost all hope of ever finding love again after having suffered through countless tragedies and betrayals, it is safe to assume that Michael treats you right in all aspects of your life together. So, after sex, he will draw you a hot bath and gently help you wash up and dry off afterwards. Then, he will tenderly tuck you into bed, bring you any snacks and beverages you may be craving, and afterwards he will lay down next to you and hold you against him until you fall asleep with your head on his chest.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He’s survived all of these years by keeping his eyes open and his mind clear, so he is quite fond of his keen and sharp gaze. He’s a bit of a sapiosexual, so while he thinks you are the sexiest and most attractive person in this world, it was your mind and your spirit that made him fall in love with you in the beginning. So, to this very day, having a stimulating conversation with you amps up his libido like nothing else.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He’s a traditionalist at heart, so he prefers finishing deep inside of you, although he will mark you with his seed if that was something you enjoyed. You would have to ask him to do it, though.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He loves seeing you wear his clothes - especially his shirts - because he thinks of it as a reinforcement of his claim on you. Although he is not one of those overly jealous or extremely possessive partners, the sight of you enveloped in his garments always manages to reassure him that you are his and his alone, to love and cherish until the day he dies. 

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Surprisingly, Michael has only slept with three women in the past - namely a former girlfriend and his two former wives. But although his experience is relatively limited, he’s been doing it long enough to know exactly how to drive his partner insane with desire and pleasure.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Usually it’s either missionary or doggy style, depending on the mood. On one hand, he likes being able to hold you in his arms and look into your eyes as he pounds into you - but on the other hand, the sight of your pretty ass and his girth disappearing inside of you drives him absolutely bonkers. Once in a while, however, when he is particularly exhausted, Michael will just sit back and relax as you ride him to completion. 

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Normally, he is very passionate and serious in bed, because making love to you is one of the few times when he can show you his more vulnerable and romantic side. That being said, realistically speaking sex is a very accident-prone activity in general, and some mishaps are funnier than others - and he is comfortable enough around you to crack an apologetic smile when that happens. 

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

With a military background and his current position as a don, Michael is a very clean and tidy person, and he keeps himself well groomed and trimmed down there. It is not his habit to shave completely, however, unless you expressed your preference for it.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Michael is a man hardened by the lifestyle he had no choice but embrace. He has learned to guard his heart, smother his conscience and use his reason to make educated and oftentimes ruthless decisions for the sake of his family’s safety and prosperity. But you are his sanctuary, and in your arms he feels loved, chrished and nurtured - and he feels the need to reciprocate your gestures of affection and show you his vulnerable and romantic side. So sex with Michael is always an intimate, passionate and intense experience.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He doesn’t do it that often - if at all. When it happens, it’s always in the shower, and he sees it as nothing more but instant gratification for his body’s biological functions - nothing more. It only ever happens if you two happen to be away from each other, for example during his solo business trips.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

A food kink, because nothing gets him going quite like licking whipped cream and frosting off your gorgeous body. Light bondage and domination - but nothing too extreme, as his intention is simply to bring you pleasure and not to demean you. Edging, orgasm denial and mild spanking, but nothing more hardcore than that. As previously stated, he loves seeing you wearing his shirts, and he has fucked you countless times while you were still garbed in them. Also a mild and barely there breeding kink.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He’s a very private individual, so only in the comfort and safety of your home, usually in your bedroom or your shared bathroom. If he is 100% sure nobody will accidentally walk in on you too, he will definitely fuck you on the kitchen counter, and put that food kink of his to good use.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

As a sapiosexual ( a person who finds intelligence to be a sexually attractive quality in others ), having a long and stimulating debate with you is an instant turn-on. Other than that, you are gorgeous and you are all his, and your very presence fills him with desire. So, as long as the two of you are alone, without the risk of being interrupted, he’s game. But if you’re ever not feeling like it, he won’t pressure you into having sex with him, nor will he act grumpy because of it. You are his beloved, and he respect and adores you at all times.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He will never harm or demean you in any way. So anything too extreme and damaging is out of the question, no matter how much you might beg him to change his mind.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

The sight of you, kneeling before him, with your pretty lips wrapped around his girth is heaven for Michael. There are things that you can do with your wicked tongue that drive him completely crazy with need, and he oftentimes finds himself thrusting against your talented mouth. That being said, he reciprocates the gesture every single time, and he is very skilled at it. With a flick of his tongue in the right spot, and a well placed suckle, he can bring you to completion in no time - and he usually isn’t satisfied unless he’s given you several earth-shattering orgasms using only his mouth and deft fingers.

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Depending on the mood, Michael can be slow and sensual, or fast and rough - but it is always a passionate exchange fuelled by your love and perpetual desire for one another. Sex with Michael is much more than a mere carnal act, but rather a complete fusion of your bodies and souls into one.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He’s a busy man with a tight schedule, so once in a while you two simply have to make do with a quick hard fuck.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He’s game for experimenting within reason. As long as none of you ends up being hurt or humiliated, he’s willing to give it a try.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Depending on how tired or well-rested he is, it spans from quickies to extended lovemaking sessions that last all night long. He rarely cums before you do, and usually that happens if you teased him too much beforehand. Even then, he will either recover and fuck you until reach orgasm as well, or he will use his mouth and fingers on you until you are satisfied. 

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He’s not opposed to toys, but he’s an old school kinda guy, so you would pretty much have to talk him into incorporating them into your guys’ sex life. Be warned, though, he will most probably use them to edge you until you are practically crying for release.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

It depends on his mood, really. Sometimes he likes to give you exactly what you want, when you want it - and sometimes he can be a complete and utter tease, to the point he drives it drives you completely nuts.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He’s relatively quiet, with a couple of low grunts and moans sprinkled in-between laboured breaths. However, he usually cums with a long groan he usually muffles against your neck or shoulder.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice) X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Well, you know what they say: Tiny man, huge “ego “. And Michael is the perect embodiment of this phrase. The boy is hung and he knows how to it to bring you maximum satisfaction, 100% guaranteed, no returns. 

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is not actually that high, but he very rarely refuses you if you initiate it. Once you get him going, however, he is relentless.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Usually he stays up a little longer to admire your slumbering form, as it has a calming effect on him. He will eventually fall asleep with you in his arms, once that brilliant and busy mind of his runs out of fuel.

[melissart]

Date Night

Terry x Korvo Solar Opposites fanfiction!

Rating: M

Warnings: Alien sex stuff, Korvo cries during sex a lot, NSF*W

Genre: romance, comedy, hurt/comfort

Words: 3,852

Summary: “Couples go to scheduled fancy dinners to help keep their relationship alive.“

Korvo paced around the backyard with his Element Detector.

Beep… beep… beep… 

Nothing. 

There were no useful elements on Earth! Of all the 118 elements that Earth discovered, everything just had to be carbon-based. Korvo had enough carbon to last the destruction of five planets. What he needed was the isotope Megeon-166--or as it’s called on Earth, Erbium. He needed at least 15 moles to repair the ship and, of course, nobody was helping him. What was the point in being mad, anymore? He knew nobody would help him but it never got any less frustrating. 

Terry slid open the back door while cradling a tray of Starbucks™ frappuccinos in one arm. “Korvo!” he called out. “Got your favorite--matcha frappuccino!” 

No, that’s not right--Terry did help. Just in a different way. Only Terry knew how to get everyone’s Starbucks™ drinks right. 

Korvo tossed the Element Detector over his shoulder and took his frappuccino. Oh, the first sip was always the best. The whipped cream was at the bottom just the way he liked it. 

Terry just… stood there and watched him drink the frappuccino. He wasn’t even going to sip his own untouched pink drink. He was waiting for a specific response from Korvo. Probably one that was two words and began with a “T”. 

Korvo sighed. He had to relent. “Thank y--” 

“--Do you know what day it is today?” Terry quickly blurted out. He was unusually excited. 

Korvo paused for a second. The effects of the Dumb Ray still hadn’t subsided completely. “Friday?”  Was he forgetting something? It couldn’t possibly be their anniversary. 

“That’s right! It’s the first Friday of the month! That means it’s date night!” 

“That is ridiculous. Every night occurs on a date.”

 Terry laughed and put his hand on Korvo’s shoulder. Everything was a joke to him. “That gets funnier every time!”

Korvo brushes Terry’s hand off of him. It seems that Korvo has forgotten what “date night” was. Ten blasts of a Dumb Ray does that to you. “Explain it to me again.” 

“Couples go to scheduled fancy dinners to help keep their relationship alive.” 

Evidently, Terry has explained this concept multiple times. There were no side tangents, no movie references, and no headaches. “I am satisfied with our relationship.” Korvo sunk into himself and slightly turned away. “Are… you… not satisfied?” 

Terry erupted into an even louder bout of laughter and slapped his knee. “Hah! That gets funnier every time, too! It’s for fun, Korvo. I already made reservations at your favorite restaurant for 8PM.” 

“But, I--” 

Terry was already heading back inside to give Jesse and Yumyulack their drinks. “Make sure you wear something nice this time!” 

Korvo racked his mind for any memories of going on a date night with Terry, but there was nothing. Korvo didn’t realize how harsh the effects of the Dumb Ray were. He felt like an idiot. Maybe it was like the NBC show Dateline. He had some researching to do. If Terry found out Korvo’s memory was still foggy, Korvo would surely get locked up again. 

Terry was about to go on the best date night of his short, pathetic life. 

--- 

It was 7:50 PM, Terry was already dressed in his favorite pink button-up with the top button unbuttoned and jeans, and Korvo was nowhere to be found. To make things worse, Korvo took the car so Terry couldn’t even go to the nearest Jack in the Box to drown his sorrows in a $5 munchie meal. It was uncharacteristic of Korvo to forget about date night, especially when he reminded Korvo just earlier. Perhaps, he wondered, the Dumb Ray effects had not subsided yet.

He went into the replicants’ bedroom to ask them if they knew where Korvo was, but they were gone. That’s right, they were at a party and said they wouldn’t be back home until midnight. Terry was alone at the house. Bored. Bored in the house and in the house bored--just as how that TikTok prophesied. 

There were three loud knocks on the front door. Terry groaned. “Coming!” He wasn’t in the mood to entertain the neighbors. 

Terry opened the door to find a bouquet of a dozen red roses being shoved into his face. It was Korvo, all dressed up in a tuxedo as if he was about to get married. 

“I have arrived to date night you,” Korvo declared. 

Terry happily accepted the bouquet. “Sick plants, dude! I didn’t know they came in red.” 

“Red means love.” 

“Cool! Should I plant them?” 

“No, you put them in a vase with water.” 

“Hmm…” Terry stared at the stems. “I don’t know, Korvo, don’t plants need dirt?” 

“Why would I--” Korvo stopped himself and took a deep breath. He had to be charismatic. “You put them in a vase, you look at them for a couple days, and then they die.” 

“Aww…” Now Terry was bummed out. He hated reminders of his planned obsolescence and inevitable death. “What’s the point of it, then?” 

“Because they’re red, Terry!” Korvo’s fury was quick to resurface. “Red means love!” 

“Okay, fine, but you don’t have to yell!” 

Korvo hated himself. Stupid. He was already ruining their date night. 

----

Jazz music played softly in the background. It would have been relaxing if it weren’t avant-garde jazz. It was times like these that made Korvo pray for the Pupa to eat everyone and terraform the planet, already. He had no idea how the cacophony he was hearing could possibly be classified as music. There was no discernible key signature, no rhythm, no melody, no dynamics--it was literally just a collection of instruments blasting away and competing with each other to see who could best resemble a dying animal. 

“What the hell is this?” he grumbled. 

Terry was busy looking through the menu. “‘Om’ by John Coltrane.” 

Korvo was taken aback by the answer. He didn’t know Terry listened to this kind of noise. Even TV static sounded more harmonious. “What’s the point of it?” The thought of someone sitting in a recording studio and blasting terrible screeches into a microphone was enough to make someone gloober. 

“Uh, to piss off people like you, duh!” Terry scoffed. “Just relax a little, okay, Korvy?” He reached across the table to put his hand over Korvo’s. 

Korvo stared down at Terry’s hand and pondered for a moment. He curled his fingers over Terry’s hand. “I see… So what you’re saying is that music acts as a medium not only to organize patterns and produce a conventionally pleasing aesthetic, but also to defy those same standards and redefine the purpose of music through an ironic lens?” 

“That’s jazz, baby!” For emphasis, Terry does jazz hands with his free hand. 

Korvo leaned in and clasped his other hand over Terry’s. “You know a lot about music,” he comments. A loving smile curled the corners of his mouth upwards. 

Terry smirked. “Well, I did major in music when we went to community college… Remember when we did that? That was fun.” 

Korvo’s smile dropped. “You did?” He had no idea. 

“Yeah, I majored in percussion performance. I was trying to get into a drumline, like in the movie Whiplash. Don’t you remember? I even invited you to my winter and spring recital.” 

Korvo genuinely could not recall anything after Terry referencing Whiplash. This wasn’t on the Dumb Ray, this was clearly on his own negligence. “Oh.” Now that he thought about it, Terry was really good at drumming. 

Terry withdrew his hand and crossed his arms. He sighed, slumped into his seat, and looked away forlornly. “It’s okay, you were probably busy working on the ship… The mission is always the highest priority.” He was already conditioned to expect disappointment when telling Korvo anything about his personal ambitions. It was Wetzel’s Pretzels all over again. 

“It is...” Korvo agreed. 

Terry felt his heart sink. 

“... but you’re a high priority to me, too.” 

Before Terry could respond, their waiter interrupted to take their orders. “Seafood platter for him, fettuccine chicken alfredo pasta for me, and your biggest bottle of wine.” 

“Of course, sir.” The waiter took their menus away and left to relay the orders to the kitchen. 

Fuck, Korvo loved it when Terry ordered for the both of them. It made him feel slightly lesser. He tugged at his neck collar. 

“You know… I didn’t actually want to be a Pupa Specialist,” Terry quietly confessed. “I wish I could’ve been a music major on Shlorp.” 

“You could’ve,” Korvo reminded him, “but you’d be dead.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know...” 

Korvo watched Terry slump further into his seat. He was blowing it. Again. Discreetly, he took out his phone on his lap and pulled up a Wikihow article he had bookmarked on Safari: “How to Get Guys to Like You More when You Go on a date”. He skipped to step 3, “Be conversational.” Korvo cleared his throat. “Um… I wanted to be a biologist on Shlorp.” 

“Aren’t you already a biologist?” Terry argued. “Science is like, your whole gimmick.” 

“I’m an electrical engineer. I work with technology. I only got to take a few biology courses but my schedule was so loaded since I was a math/physics/engineering triple major, so I had no time to declare a minor in biology.” 

Terry laughed. “You sure dodged a bullet! Pupa Specialists had to take a shitton of bio classes, and let me tell you, the only silver lining is the sex unit.”

“There’s a sex unit?” 

“Yeah! Meiosis, DNA, best positions, tongue stuff… Jesse was conceived during that unit!” Terry smiled fondly, as if it were a normal sweet memory to be nostalgic of. “Ooh, ooh, how was Yumyulack conceived?” 

“With my right hand and a magazine at a lab.” Korvo didn’t realize there was anything more to it than that. “Tell me more about this unit,” he demanded. 

“Okay, so on the first day of class, our lab experiment for the day is to analyze genetic fluids, but wait! Our old tree professor forgot to order enough sample genetic fluids for the entire class! But, it turns out that collecting genetic fluids is the real lab experiment! Of course, I’m just sitting there with my lifemate, confused as hell, while the TA’s start to unbutton their robes…” 

------

Terry and Korvo laughed as they stumbled out of the restaurant together, holding hands and swinging it between them. When Terry asked for their biggest bottle of wine, they sure did deliver. Behind them, the warm glow of the restaurant faded away as they searched for their car. 

Terry wiped away tears of mirth with the back of his hand. “So I said, ‘You wouldn’t know one if you saw one!’” 

Korvo dropped the car keys as he erupted in more laughter. “Hohoheehoihoiheehoihoi! You sure told him! That was something that you told him, alright!” 

Korvo and Terry crouched down to reach for the car keys at the same time. They both groped around the spinning ground until their hands met. They looked up at each other with the same dazed, lovesick look in their eyes. 

Within seconds, they were sloppily making out. Terry had so much to drink that he couldn’t even feel where his body started and Korvo’s ended. All he could taste was wine and seafood. He felt Korvo topple over, putting Terry on top of him, straddling Korvo’s hips between his legs. Their tongues swirled around each other as Korvo moaned and dug his fingers onto the back of Terry’s shirt. The sidewalk was cold, but their bodies were hot enough to compensate. 

Terry pulled away and fumbled to unbutton his shirt. 

“Woah, woah, woah--I think we should, should go home first.” Korvo slowly sat himself up. 

“You can’t even drive!” 

“Of course I can!” Korvo declared, unintentionally flicking specks of saliva onto Terry’s face as he spoke. “W-We’re aliens! Our bodies… they got high tolerance… Alcohol sharpens our senses!” He pushed Terry off of him and crawled over to the car keys. 

Terry helped him up. “That doesn’t sound so right, but I don’t know enough to argue with that!” 

Korvo waved the car key fob in the air and pressed the lock button repeatedly, struggling to hear where their car was. “Beep beep! Beep beep! Beep beep!” he called out, as if it were a dog that could respond and come running over. “Fuck, where’d I park?” 

Terry turned Korvo around to face their car. 

“Oh shiiit, found it!” 

Korvo clicked the unlock button a few dozen times, then they let themselves in. Neither of them bothered to strap in their seatbelts.

-----

As soon as their bedroom door was shut and locked, Korvo and Terry started hurriedly undressing each other. Terry kissed Korvo’s neck as he loosened his bowtie while Korvo yanked Terry’s shorts down and began unbuttoning his shirt. 

“Fuuuck, Terry,” Korvo raspily moaned out. “I-I want you to dominate me! Dominate me, Terry! Make me your slut!” 

“Yeah, you’re a little slut, huh?” Terry palmed Korvo’s mound. “My fucking whore needs to be taught a lesson?” 

Korvo bucked his hips into Terry’s hand. “Yes, Terry!” he groaned. “Teach me a lesson!” 

Terry swept Korvo off his feet in one motion and carried him to the bed. As soon as he dropped him, he crawled on top of Korvo and tugged Korvo’s dress pants down. Korvo’s rootstalk was eager to be exposed, wriggling out of its hole to meet Terry’s tongue. Terry gave the thick root one long, slobbering, lick up the shaft and to the tip. “Alright, Korvy, pop quiz--what’s the powerhouse of the cell?” 

Korvo didn’t respond. 

“Wait, Korvo, you do know what the powerhouse of the cell is, don’t you?” Terry heard a small sob. He looked up at Korvo, who was covering his blushing face, wet and shiny from fresh tears. Terry crawled away from between Korvo’s legs and to his side. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he whispered gently. He coaxed Korvo’s hands away from his face. 

Of course, being asked what was wrong only made Korvo cry harder and curl away. “I-I-I forgot!” he wailed. “I f-forgot what the powerhouse of the cell is! W-What is it? I have no f-f-fucking clue!”

Terry hugged him from behind. “It’s okay, baby, it doesn’t matter! It’s just the mitochondria.” 

“I-I just… I just feel so dumb. I’ve been waiting weeks for my intelligence to fully recover ever since you hit me with the Dumb Ray, but… but that’s it. This is as smart as I ever was before! And I’m fucking s-s-st-stu-stupid!” 

Terry squeezed him harder while he sobbed and wailed and gooblered all over the both of them. “There, there, Korvo.” He knew the drill. Korvo cried during sex all the time--something about the physical release of his genetic fluids seemed to trigger an emotional catharsis in him. This time was unusually early, though. They hadn’t even finished foreplay. “Do you want some ice cream?” 

“N-No, let’s continue having sex,” Korvo insists. 

“But you’re crying--” 

“--Well, I’m still horny!” He tried to dry his eyes, but it was a Sisyphean task. 

“Alright, fine, but talk about your feelings while I’m sucking you off.” Terry crawled back over to Korvo’s crotch and continued where he left off--licking the thick root all over, from bottom to top. He began sucking the tip of it, which wriggled slightly as it grew more. 

Korvo panted heavily. “O-O-Oh my g-god…” Hot pleasure took over him. “Well, I wanted to be a biologist on Shlorp, but…” He interrupted himself with a loud moan when Terry started deep-throating his root. “Hohhhmygod! Oh, Terry! Fuck, it feels so good!” He felt his root lengthening more and wriggle down Terry’s throat. “Terry, Terry, Terry… I’m gonna--ohhh, fuck…” 

Terry gave a small grunt of surprise when Korvo’s genetic fluids began squirting down his throat. He could just barely taste the sweet, floral nectar as he swallowed. There was so much to swallow down. Korvo was always so repressed--he was always too busy studying repair manuals to jerk off every now and then. 

Korvo felt dizzy from the waves of pleasure still crashing over him after his release. “Terry, I love y--”

“--What happened?” Terry interrupted. 

“Huh?” 

“What happened to being a biologist?” Terry asked again. “I mean, you could’ve just not majored in so many majors in the first place, right?” 

Korvo grabbed a spare pillow and put it over his face. “It’s not important anymore, never mind,” he said, muffled. 

“Korvo, c’mon, I won’t tell you my secret sex techniques if you don’t tell me your tragic backstory.” 

Korvo uncovered his face. “Tell me,” he demanded.

“You first!” 

Korvo took a moment to decide if it was truly worth opening up about his deepest, darkest insecurities just for sex. It was a very short moment. “I got a B+ in Intro to Biology my first year.” 

Terry waited for further explanation, but there was nothing more. “B+ isn’t a bad grade?” 

“I know!” Korvo snapped. “But I-I freaked out! That was my first B in a class, ever! And now we’re stuck on Earth and the Pupa could destroy us all any second and it’ll be all my fault because I wasn’t smart enough to fix the ship! And I’m not even smart enough to understand why the Pupa is 670C because I got freaked out over a B! And now we’re all going to die!” Gooblers danced all over their bedsheets. 

“Korvo, baby, relax!” He wiped away Korvo’s tears. “Even if you quadruple-majored in biology/math/physics/engineering, we’d still be on Earth because you couldn’t fix the ship. It doesn’t matter!” 

Korvo buried his face into Terry’s chest and gave out a strangled scream. 

Terry laughed to himself. “I mean, what’s the point of studying so much if you can’t even fix the ship?” He stroked the back of Korvo’s head lovingly. “I was able to fix a lavatic reactor in just a few minutes of reading one of your dumb manuals!” One of the gooblers popped straight into his eye. “Ow! Okay, I’m sorry! I guess the point is, uh… I’ll help you fix the ship. How does that sound?” 

The gooblers finally came to a stop. “You will?” 

“Anything to get you to stop crying during sex…” Terry grumbled.

Korvo began showering Terry with kisses. “Oh, Terry! Thank you! Mwah, mwah! Thank you so much! There’s so much I still have yet to diagnose in the ship--the catalytic nasprober, the psionic cholecystosanitizer, the carcino-fibrillator, the hexylgraph, the blinkers--” 

The list went on and on and on and on and on. Terry didn’t realize how much was wrong with the ship until now. He started to understand why Korvo was so stressed out all the time. Korvo had spent hours every day working on the ship for over a year, and this entire time Terry assumed that Korvo was just bad at repairing. 

There had to be an end to this. Terry slowly crawled back over to Korvo’s root, still wet with saliva and nectar genetic fluids, and began sucking at it again. It was only a matter of seconds until Korvo was back to being a squirming, moaning mess.

Korvo rested his hand on Terry’s head. “T-T-Terry, T-Terry! Oh, Terry!” 

After Terry deemed it wet enough, he finally gave his mouth a break. “Okay, don’t freak out,” he warned Korvo. 

“Why should I not freak out?” Korvo asked, freaking out already. 

“I’m gonna try a special Shlorpian sex technique on you.” 

Korvo has only ever had sex with Terry the traditional way--humping and twisting their roots around each other. “It won’t hurt, will it?” 

“Hmm--well--um---I wouldn’t say hurt?” 

“I do not like your hesitance.” 

“Okay, okay, okay! So, you twist up your partner’s root into a spiral-cone-thing, tuck that into their root-hole, and fuck it like a pussy, basically.” 

The image of it was vivid in Korvo’s head. It sounded so… demeaning and aggressive. “Okay.” 

Terry kissed him. “I love you!” He licks Korvo’s root and tries to coat as much saliva as he can on it before twisting the root as tight as he can. This, of course, is not the part where it hurts because their roots do not have pain receptors. With his other hand, he gently pries open Korvo’s root hole. 

Korvo groaned. He felt so violated in a way he had never felt before. It felt so lewd to have Terry stretch his root hole open. He bites his tongue when Terry starts fingering him. “Mmghh…!” It hurt so good. 

“Damn, Korvo, you’re so tight. Tighter than Honey Boo Boo’s training bra!” 

“Oh, shut up.” 

“Seriously, you make Terri look like a corner street hooker! Because you’re so tight, get it?” 

“Yes, Terry. I get it.” 

Terry lapped at Korvo’s hole, then stuck the tip of his tongue in. Breathy moans spilled out of Korvo as he clencher himself around Terry’s tongue. Terry went back to sucking on Korvo’s root while slowly pushing his finger inside of Korvo’s hole. Korvo’s moans crescendoed with every millimeter Terry pushed in. Terry tried to wriggle his finger and stretch out Korvo’s hole as much as he could before squeezing in another one. 

“Ahh… Ahh! T-Terry! Oh my god--Terry! Mmphh!” Korvo grinded his hips against Terry’s fingers. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! T-Th-That feels s-so good!” He was close to cumming all over again. 

Terry took his mouth off of Korvo’s root and began twirling the root around his finger. He wasn’t one to brag, but it was known that he had the best root-twirling technique in his class. Korvo’s root was, thankfully, very flexible and easily conformed to the twirled form. Terry quickly shoved the root as deep into Korvo’s hole as possible. There was a soft squelch underneath Korvo’s grunts. Terry got on top of Korvo, pinned Korvo’s arms over his head, and kissed him as he gently pushed his root inside of Korvo. 

Korvo wrapped his legs around Terry’s hips. He finally understood the human concept of “heaven” and it was Terry holding him down and jack-hammering away at his hole. Within seconds, he was already cumming. His root clenched hard around Terry’s and squirted more lubrication for Terry to penetrate even deeper and harder. 

It wasn’t long until Terry cummed, too. His hot nectar filled Korvo up and leaked all over both of their groins. He slowed down, then eventually paused. This was usually around the time when Korvo started to cry again. He rested his sweaty forehead against Korvo’s. “Korvo?” 

The waterworks came back. “Terry, I love you so much! I-I-I’m sorry I keep crying d-during s-s-sex!” 

“It’s okay, I love you too.” He accepted more tear-stained kisses. “Do you wanna keep going?” 

Korvo shook his head no. 

Terry got off of Korvo and hugged Korvo and patted his back while he cried. “It’s okay, Korvy… I love you a lot, too! We have a house and replicants and a cute little Pupa--we really nailed this whole family thing, huh?” 

All in all, Terry would say that it was a very successful date night. 

[livingthroughchoices-blog]

The Marshmallow Chronicles (Ch. 19: Long Live the King)

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Author’s notes: THE LAST CHAPTER!! Sorry it’s a short one /: I don’t have the words to thank each and every one of you who have read my silly fanfic and who have left lovely, encouraging comments. It’s really not an exaggeration to say that I wouldn’t have made it this far if it wasn’t for you <3 so THANK YOU!!

@starstruckzonkoperatorbat, @notoriouscs, @simplyaiden-blog, @snyggflicka, @asprankle, @speedyoperarascalparty, @mirivalencia, @mymandrake, @asobigokoro2018, @krisnicjack and @fabi-en-ciel thank you so much for being so supportive of my writing. It means so so much! 

That said, I’m happy to say I WILL be doing book 2! It’s actually my favorite, so I’m very excited!! Sorry to everyone who had asked earlier, I just wanted to be sure before I made the commitment. Plus, nothing wrong with a little suspense ;)

However, I’ll have to take a short break before starting so I can plan the story out. I mean, I know the plot is already laid out for me, but I still want my details to fit into the canon well. So thank you for your patience (:

As always, please let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged.

I seriously love all of you <3

Rating: T

Pairing: Drake x MC

Words: 2,541

He couldn’t tell how long he’d been sitting there, trying to gather the strength to stand up and pour himself another drink, when a raspy voice asked, “This seat taken?”

He looked up to see a familiar face. “Leo!”

He got up so he could shake hands with the handsome man, who clapped his back.

“Hey, Drake. It’s good to see you.”

“You too, man! I didn’t know you were coming but I guess I should’ve guessed.”

“Yeah, I may be the black sheep of the family but I got Liam’s back.”

Drake bit his tongue to keep himself from saying something rude. As much as he liked Leo – and he did; the man was as different from the other nobles as one could be – he couldn’t agree with that. Leo had always been... not selfish, exactly, but he definitely looked out for his own happiness before others’. 

Come to think of it, Drake wasn’t sure whether to resent or admire him. One thing was certain, he could learn a thing or two from Leo’s certainty that he deserved to be happy.

Drake cast about for something to change the subject and landed on, “So where’s your wife? Liam told me you got married recently?”

A huge smile spread on Leo’s face. “I did. She couldn’t come, unfortunately. She’s in the middle of setting up her own home decor shop so this was a very inconvenient time for her.” He grimaced. 

“Oh, cool. Well, you seem happy.”

“So happy. I can’t even explain what it’s like, knowing someone will be there for you no matter what, that they love you with all of your flaws and baggage, that they’ll make everyday an adventure...” he trailed off dreamily.

Drake was feeling more than a little uneasy at this sentimental monologue, not least because he could think of only one person he believed could fit that criteria. He cleared his throat and reached for his glass, taking an imaginary sip of his nonexistent drink.

“Forgive me, I tend to get emotional when I talk about Mia. I very much hope Liam finds the same thing for himself tonight.”

“Oh, he will,” muttered Drake.

Leo raised his eyebrows. “Do you mean that girl Riley I’ve been hearing so much about? What is she like?”

“She’s, uh, she’s something else.” He licked his lips. “She’s confident and fun, but she still knows when to be serious, and she can talk a lot, but is a fantastic listener–” 

He cut himself off before he went on a full-on rant about Riley Addam’s many qualities. 

“She’ll... make a great queen,” he finished weakly.

“Well, you make her sound delightful! I was already hoping to meet her tonight, but now you’ve made it my mission! But how is she with Liam? Do they make a good couple?”

“I-”

He hadn’t actually asked himself that. He’d been so busy assuming that Liam would pick Riley and vice versa, that he hadn’t stopped to think whether they made a good couple. He knew he’d be biased, but he tried his best to think about this coldly. What even makes a good couple? 

One the one hand, both of them were harmonious, cooperative people – unlike him – so they probably wouldn’t have too many big fights. Not only that, but their different types of wisdom complemented each other and they were both highly empathetic people; he was sure they’d make for exceptional rulers.

And yet... It was painful to admit this to himself, given that Drake knew his feelings for Riley would never be anything other than a fool’s wish, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen her laugh or joke around with Liam as much as she did with him. It wasn’t Liam that she was sneaking off with during boring functions. 

And then there was the grateful look on her face as she’d said, “it felt good to tell someone,” after sharing something so deeply personal...

But no, he wasn’t being fair. She’d surely been on countless dates with Liam by now and who was to say she hadn’t been even more affectionate with him than she’d ever been with Drake? Who was to say they hadn’t already–

His nostrils flared. 

Hell no, please don’t go there. 

In order to distract himself from the uncomfortable truth that he’d have to get used to the idea of Riley having sex with Liam soon – they’re getting engaged, you dickhead! – he returned to the conversation he had mentally left for a little too long.

“Yes,” he finally answered firmly. “They make a good couple.”

He was relieved to see that Leo seemed to be taking his weirdness in stride. He probably thought Drake was drunk and spaced out.

“I’m glad. I trust your opinion, Drake. And what about you? Wedding bells on the horizon?”

Drake snorted.

“Not quite.”

“Living that bachelor life, eh? That can be fun too!” Leo gave him a devilish grin. “But when you do settle down, make sure it’s with someone you enjoy spending the quiet moments in life with.”

In a flash, Drake saw himself drinking whiskey with Riley, celebrating the moments in between. He blinked several times rapidly, his eyes feeling watery.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Oh, and please give Liam noogies every now and then to remind him of me.”

“Ha! Only if you promise not to ask him the same thing!”

Leo shrugged. “I’m afraid I can’t promise that.”

They laughed and walked back into the ballroom together. Leo promptly asked Drake to point out Riley. He did so with a smile, watching her talk to Maxwell in that animated way of hers. 

Once Leo had left him to go introduce himself, Drake ordered a drink from the bartender and went back to sulking in his corner. Before long, Hana found him.

“Are you ready?” she almost whispered.

They each avoided the other’s eyes, looking straight out at the ballroom, and probably at the same person.

“Not nearly. You?”

“I... think I’ve made my peace with it,” she answered, still quietly. “Telling her really helped, so thank you for your advice.”

Drake choked on his drink and whipped around to look at Hana open-mouthed. “You–you told her?

She gave a small nod.

Haltingly, Drake asked, “So... what did she, um, say?”

“Oh,” Hana shrugged carefully, but there was no keeping the hurt from her voice, “what you’d expect. She said...” her voice wavered, yet she didn’t cry. Drake felt his admiration for her grow. 

“She said I’m her best friend and, although I can’t deny I’d hoped for more, that’s enough for me.”

Drake squeezed her hand.

“You’re a class act, Hana. And brave, too. I’m gonna miss you and I’m glad we’re... friends.”

Hana stared at him, her eyes and mouth equally wide. “You said it! Voluntarily!”

“Shh!” Drake elbowed her lightly. “I’ve got a reputation to maintain!”

Hana giggled and mimed zipping her mouth shut. 

Across the room, somebody cleared their throat importantly. They turned to see King Constantine rising from his chair. 

He said, “If I may have everyone’s attention, please...”

Hana and Drake shared a resigned look and started towards Riley, Maxwell and Bertrand, who were clustered near the dance floor.

“It’s finally happening...” said Hana, giving Riley a brief hug.

Drake balled his fists and set his jaw. “Here we go...”

A hush had settled over the room; all eyes were on the royal family.

King Constantine launched into what Drake thought to be a very self-aggrandizing speech about his reign, though he did pause on a sweet note, praising Liam by saying he couldn’t have wished for a better successor. Drake could not agree more; Cordonia had really lucked out, but he, the King, Riley and everyone who knew Liam personally had won the lottery. 

The Prince smiled softly and put an arm on the King’s shoulder, bashful at the compliment. “Father...”

“It’s true,” Constantine continued. He looked over to Leo, who was standing next to the Queen. “I love your brother, but you will be the King that Cordonia needs. Reliable, steady, wise, just. Though you weren’t born to be my successor, it feels as though this outcome was inevitable.” 

There was a pause during which King Constantine looked at each other smilingly. Drake felt like he was interrupting a personal moment. 

“Liam, you are ever bit the King I always hoped you’d be. Today, I pass the royal signet ring to you.” The King took the signet off and slid it onto Liam’s finger. “Cordonia is yours, my son.”

Beside him, Riley cupped her hands and cheered, “Let’s hear it for Liam!” startling Drake into jumping. 

Recovering from the scare, he chuckled and shook his head, clapping for Liam until his hands stung. 

“Lady Riley, compose yourself,” chided Bertrand, which only made it funnier. 

Liam looked like he was holding in laughter as he winked at Riley. The applause and cheers quickly faded so Liam could speak, “Thank you all for being here tonight. This is an incredible honor and a responsibility that I don’t take lightly. I only hope I can serve Cordonia with the distinction that my father did.”

Drake scoffed internally at that. Liam would be a far better king than his father ever was; he was already a better man.

Liam bowed at his father and hugged him formally.

Queen Regina came forward with her usual grace. “And now the time has come. Your Prince will choose his bride.”

Drake’s stomach leaped in a way that made him feel more hungover than he had all day.

Constantine and the Queen thanked the suitors for participating in the social season and spouted some – in Drake’s opinion – bullshit about how they could all make great queens.

Come on, Penelope? Maybe if you wanted Poodle Day to become a national holiday. And I’m sure I’d be first in line to the guillotine if Olivia were queen. 

He shuddered.

The Queen’s voice, which sounded more shaken than he’d ever heard her, took him out of his thoughts. “If you’ll excuse us one moment.”

The Queen and Constantine were whispering with a royal advisor. Constantine waved Liam over. His brow furrowed, Liam strode to them and joined the whispers.

It wouldn’t take long for the crowd to start murmuring among themselves, but as of that moment, you could have heard a pin drop. Which is why, when the first phone buzzed, everyone’s heads turned as one in the general direction of the sound. A few seconds later, however, two more went off, and then five, and then too many to keep track of.

He heard Madeleine’s prim voice exclaim, “Oh my!”

“Oh non,” said Kiara.

Penelope, a hand on her chest, said, “She wouldn’t...”

Maxwell’s phone buzzed and he snatched it out of his pocket. His eyes widened in horror. “Bertrand!”

It felt like a heavy rock had dropped inside Drake’s stomach. He had a bad feeling about this.

“What?” Bertrand snarled.

Maxwell showed him his phone and Drake leaned in to take a peek. It was a photo of Riley wearing a familiar pink bra and kissing – or rather, being kissed by – Tariq.

Drake felt his whole body grow hot and he clenched his fists even tighter than they already had been. “Those bastards!”

Riley turned to look at him, her eyes huge with fear. “Drake...” she said slowly, “I have a feeling I know exactly what this is. That night Tariq thought I walked into his room...” 

She gulped and then carried on, her voice monotonous and defeated. “Someone got photos of it, didn’t they? And they’re using them to set me up.”

Hana’s hand was on her mouth. “It’s all over the news!”

She showed Riley her phone, which was covered in headlines of the same news: the “slutty” suitor who humiliated the prince by being caught hooking up with his friend.

Drake yanked the phone out of Hana’s hand. 

What was she thinking, showing her that?!

Riley’s eyes were filling with tears. “But...”

Several guards came seemingly from out of nowhere and surrounded Riley. Drake could do nothing but stand there stupidly. In fact, he only realized one of them was Bastien when he heard him speak.

“I’m so sorry, Lady Riley, but I’ve been ordered to escort you out... immediately. Along with the representatives from House Beaumont.”

Drake gaped at him. Escort them out?! What the fuck?!

Bertrand seemed to agree with him, albeit more politely. “This is absurd!”

“You can’t do this to Riley!” cried out Maxwell.

A couple of guards grabbed the Beaumonts roughly, and Bastien and another guard seized Riley, dragging her to the door.

Drake’s brain finally kicked into action and he pushed his way to Bastien, roaring, “Get your hands off her!”

Without thinking, he punched Bastien, who doubled over, leaving Riley free on one side. Before she could take advantage though, another guard took Bastien’s place. 

Drake’s friend slowly straightened up and he was surprised to see no anger in Bastien’s eyes, but rather a profound sadness. Not that he cared at the moment as he struggled helplessly, being held back by guards as his friends and one of his favorite people in the world were forced out the door.

“Riley!” He’d never heard Hana so out of control. She was being kept back as well and was fighting tooth and nail to get away.

From the dance floor, Liam’s voice boomed over the chaos that now dominated the room. “Where is Lady Riley? Riley!” He looked for her frantically.

Riley’s voice came in a shrill yell from the door as she still resisted security, “Liam!”

Despite the din, the Queen’s voice rang through the commotion, “Given the circumstances, I’m sure Lady Riley has withdrawn from consideration.”

The insensitive announcement was enough to stun him into giving up the fight. 

Unbelievable. Unbe-fucking-lievable. These people have no shame.

“But...” Liam was saying desperately, still searching for Riley, “I need to speak with her.”

The Queen whispered something in Liam’s ear, which made his face harden, even as his eyes still were wide with shock and sadness.

Constantine cleared his throat. “And now, Prince Liam must make his choice.”

Liam sighed and came forward. Drake had never seen him scowl that much. “I choose... Lady Madeleine.”

There where a few scattered claps, but for the most part, the audience seemed too appalled to do much.

Madeleine, however, didn’t seem to mind as came forward with a grin from ear to ear. “I’m deeply, deeply honored to accept.”

She curtsied before Liam, then gripped his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. 

As everyone stared, aghast, Drake looked to the door, where Riley had been enduring the guards’ efforts to force her out. He wasn’t expecting to find her looking at him instead of at Liam, her eyes brimming with tears.

The guards at last succeeded in ejecting Riley from the room, slamming the door after them. Drake fought to break free for a few seconds longer, until the futility of it really sunk in. He let his hands fall to his sides.

His eyes met Liam’s and he could see they were thinking the same thing: This isn’t over.