#nothing like a good ciggy

[we-r-loonies]

an actual guide to british slang for foreign marauders writers.

because i am sick of seeing

a) people using american english eg. mom, sneakers

b) people overusing "mate" and "innit"

alright? = a greeting, like hello.

everyday words

ain't = haven't

scran = food, or to describe eating

swear down = promise

"swear down, I didn't do nothing,"

bloody = can be used in any sentence at any time

"bloody hell" "its bloody pissing it down out there" "i was bloody wankered"

bloke = a man

innit = isn't it?

mate = equivalent of calling someone bro

bruv, lad, my son = bro, dude, etc

fags, rollies, ciggies, (NOT A SPLIFF) = cigarettes

trust = trust me

"trust, ill tell you later"

chatting (what you chatting about?) = what are you on about?

quid = pound

proper buzzing = really excited

good

sound = good

bangin' = really good

lush = good

"that scran was lush"

jokes = a laugh, funny

bare = a lot of

fit = physically attractive

"he's well fit, isn't he?"

pissed = drunk

dodgy/dodge = questionable

bad

are you taking the piss? = are you having a laugh?

thats peak = thats bad

not being funny, but... = no offense but...

gordon bennett! = surprise, shock, disbelief

slag off = talk badly about someone

"she was slagging her off to anyone who'd listen"

minging, rank = disgusting

bloody nora = expression of surprise, irritation

bollocks = nonsense, something bad

"stop talking bollocks, mate"

skint = broke

prat, git = an idiot

insults

a melt = a pathetic person

clapped = ugly

"he's fucking clapped..."

sket = a promiscuous woman

slag = ^^

minger = an unattractive person

plonker = calling someone silly, not offensive

"don't be a plonker..."

cunt = VERY OFFENSIVE!

wanker, tosser = a general insult

bender, poof = a gay man, used insultingly

[yatiso]

my resting heart rate has gone down +/- 10 bpm since quitting adderall i wonder whatll look like when i stop having withdrawal heart attacks

[captainlondonman]

Workie Big Jim

WORKIE  BIG JIM to J-BOI

What the hell is going on outside the front door? James looked through the window and saw 2 young guys setting up bollards in a square on the pavement outside

‘I’ve not had any notifcation for works to be done.’

As he looked out there were two guys both in their 20.s in full Hi Viz gear wearing white helmets and orange kit. One had a really good bod and knew it wearing tight trousers so he showed off a tight arse. He had a tight fitting T shirt on showing the full 6 pack and protruding nipples, making sure his waistcoat was open for all to see. He was unshaven, a good dark stubble and tanned. One arm was full of tats and he had gold earrings in both ears and a ciggie droping down from his lips. As he turned so James could see his cock pushing out from the tight confines.  His head was shaved and gleaming.

Sex on legs but a mouthy son of a bitch by the look of things

The other guy was shorter and a good rugby build with hairy arms and shaved head. He was wearing dirty camos and high rigger boots. He kept wiping his nose on his cuffs. A dirty little bugger James thought

Even if James was annoyed at seeing them outside his house, he found his cock twitching at the sight of the lads.

Nothing to beat a dirty workie  he thought. Christ I don’t why but the sight of these dirty young guys in Hi Viz always gets me horny . I can’t stop dreaming of being a mucky workie and having a good fuck with these guys. As he stared at them so his hand went down to his dick and started rubbing . Shit I love Hi Viz gear he said as his cock started tenting big time in his trousers. Christ I have to have a wank and they wont be able to see me getting my rocks off.

With that he took his good 6 incher out with its thick head and started to rub himself. That cocky one really gets me so horny he said watching the young lad bend over showing the tight arse. What I would do with that he said but knowing full well he never would which made his excitement even more. His hand groped his dick and he slid his sweaty hand up and down his shaft faster and faster working his thick head wet with precum. Oh God I’m coming as he shoved his head back and his cum spurted all over the wall under the window.

James showered and washed off all the excess spunk that had run down his legs Time to get to work. As he walked out the cocky lad looked over at him and winked.

‘What are you guys doing right in front of my house.’

‘What the fuck does it look like. Digging a hole mate, electrical problems. Can you not see what it says on the back of my coat.’

‘I only asked’ James said

‘And I only told you’ was the reply.

‘Have you not any foreman’ asked James

‘Nope, he buggered off, its just Jake and I, ain’t it Jake?’

‘Sure thing, Wayne but we reckon we know what were doin’

‘I certainly hope so’ James said somewhat arrogantly

‘Christ man can you not take a joke. A bit strung up ain’t you?’

‘How long is this going to take?’

‘As long as we feel like. Looks a good job for us with no one in charge so a good few cups of tea and breaks plus of course our ciggies, a good week I’d say. Wayne gave James another wink as as he did so he let his hand run down the shaft of his cock making sure that James saw the full length of his dick.

James realized that Wayne was a bloody  troublemaker just baiting so decided to go off to the office without any more to say.

‘You know mate you’d be better off as one of us workies. A fucking better life than stuck in an office.’

Sitting on the bus James kept thinking what Wayne had said about being a workie and the idea of being one working along side Jake and Wayne in full Hi Viz gear made his cock rigid under his briefcase. Christ I’d be so horny working with them I’d never get any work done he joked to himself.

When he got home the two blokes had left. During the night he could not take his mind of Wayne’s arse in those Hi Viz trousers and those tats and dirt and the shaved head. He kept waking up with a raging knob on but decided not to wank as he was waiting to see the two of them the next day.

He remembered waking up early because the doorbell rang. He went to open and on the doorstep was a bag, no one there. What the hell is this?

Might as well open he thought and as he unzipped he caught sight of bright orange HI Viz clothing.

Someone must have left this but I didn’t see yesterday evening.

As he put his hand in the bag he stroked the gear and felt his cock harden.

I’ve got to look at this. He took out everything and laid it out on the table. There were a pair of thick rigger boots well used and filthy with the leather on the toe caps worn so he could see the metal. A pair of yellow socks with holes in the toes. a pissed stained worn jockstrap, A pair of mucky Hi Viz trousers with a thick belt, a ripped T shirt stained with dirt and snot, a waistcoat and helmet.

They are all much too big for me he thought sadly but he leant over the table and started smelling everything. Christ the socks are stinking with a real cheesy feet smell. It’s as though they’ve never been washed. The T shirt smelt of BO and dirt and as for the jockstrap it really smelt of piss and fresh piss at that full of yellow stains. As he stroked the jockstrap there were hard sections which he could see were of dried cum. The smell of it all as he rubbed his hands over the clothing had him so worked up he thought he might cum, his cock was already oozing precum.

‘Just looking at all this is making me so horny I’ve got to try it on even if it is too big, I just want to feel all this dirt and piss against me.’

He picked up the jockstrap and started rubbing it over his face. He wanted to cover himself with the smell of stale piss. He rubbed it over his nose and over his eyes then started stuffing it into his mouth until he was almost gagging with the smell but the more he stuffed in the more the precum appeared on the tip of his cock. With the jockstrap now moist from his spit he put on the jockstrap knowing it was far too big. As he pulled it up his legs so he suddenly felt dizzy and different. His legs started growing not just in height but width, they were bloody chunky legs with big muscles and his soft downy leg hair changed, thick dark hair started sprouting all over his legs even across the top of his feet. He pressed his stiff cock into the jockstrap and the outline changed. What was just a normal erect dick strained so much as the cotton he thought is would burst. It was a monster tool and thick as his arm scarcely able to be contained. Black curly pubic hair suddenly was growing all around sideways, upwards like a bloody gorilla,. His waist had expanded and the elastic was straining around his waist. The colour of his skin had changed from pinky white to a dark tan which with so much hair he could hardly see.

James could not understand but he knew he had to continue getting into the gear. He next put on the socks, dirty stinkin and his toes were popping through the end he must be a size 12 at least what had happened to his size 8.He lifted the Hi viz trousers and thought they were much too big for him but as he dragged them up his leg they started to feel tight. He could hardly get them over his pouch so hard was his big cock. He pushed them over and they felt so tight across his arse but as he looked down so his stomach started to change and push out. Not just a little but one hell of a lot. He had a bloody great beer belly and the hair from his pubes was rapidly speading up over the top of his trousers. As he tied his belt so his belly spread out over. He lifted the T shirt and smelt the armpits. God they stank of sweat, and there was a rip down part of the front. As he put it over his head he felt his arms ache and his chest tense. Looking more carefully his arms had expanded to reveal hard muscle he knew he never had and not just muscle but Tattoos all the way down both arms and yet more thick black hair. Christ it looked so bloody macho. The hair moved over his shoulders and he could feel it moving down both back and front. He seems like a bloody gorilla His chest seemed to blow out, the belly more pronounced and a big pair of hairy tits. The rip in the T shirt meant that one of his tits was poking through showing a big juicy nipple with a thick steel ring. As he went to put on the Hiviz waistcoat his arm brushed his face. Where was all that smooth skin of his, instead he took his thick nicotined fingers over a big bushy beard and up to a shaved head.. Only one thing left, his helmet. It looked miles too big but as he brought it down it was the perfect size , he head had expanded so much.

However the biggest change was when the helmet was fully on. James suddenly felt a strong rush of blood running round his entire body. His brain felt fried. He put his hands up to his face and shouted not in his well spoken soft voice  but in a strongly accented deep tone.

‘I’m fucking Big Jim and where are those fucking skivers. Time someone fucking told them who’s Boss and its me. Time they make it up as I’m needing a fucking shag.’

With that he opened the door and Wayne and Jake were sitting with ciggie in hand  and no sign of any tools.

‘What the fuck do you two think your doing. I hate fucking skivers. Get the hell in here now.’

Wayne could not believe what he saw but both were so surprised they stood up speechless and went inside.

‘So you’s think that jus because I’m no with yos you can do whit you like. Well I’ll tell you I’m the one who gives the orders not fucking you. And its lucky for you that I’m feeling fucking horny so no docking of wages but time to keep me happy and shoot a load.’ Big Jim shouted and belched rubbing his hand down the length of his cock

‘That’s a fucking monster you’ve got there Jim and I can see its already rock hard the way its tenting.’

‘Too fucking right and see that arse of your’s boy well that’s where its going. And don’t tell me you don’t like big cock. ‘

‘No way Big Boy’

With that Big Jim grabbed Wayne from the back and yanked him back bringing his bushy bearded face against Wayne. I told you what I’m doing and you do nothing but agree. Right got that?

Jim sent a big gob of spit into Wayne’s face.

‘OK mate sure thing’

Still holding Wayne by the collar with one hand  Big Jim yanked open Waynes flies and pulled down his HI Viz . As he did so, Wayne’s erect cock sprang up.

‘No way you say? That stiff dick of yours is telling me something else. A good size boy and any dick as stiff as this wants a fuck. So bend over now.

And as for you Jake stop staring and rubbing your crotch. I can see that knob on from here, getting you going is it?

‘Sure bloody is Big Jim’

‘So fuckin unzip yourself and lets see what you’re made off.’

Jake stuck his hand into his Hi Viz and pulled out a long thin hard cock.

‘You can have a good wank when I say so but first your goin’ to suck yer mates dick and when I say suck I wanna see his tool all the way down your throat.

Right Wayne I said bend over .

As he pushed the lad down he took his other arm and slapped hard across his arse

‘Fuckin hell man that hurts’

‘I want to get your bum nice and hot for my cock, so quit the moaning and with that he struck again as the arse showed red.

‘Time to give you  a sackful of cum boy. He dropped a gob of spit onto his throbbing cock and worked it, then taking hold of each cheek he spread them apart to get a look at Wayne’s hole.

‘Big hole boy for someone like you. Don’t tell me you’ve not had a dick my size up that crack of yours’

 ‘Now inch that arse back so I can spear you and don’t worry I’ll take my time.’ Slowly he inched his cock into the hole his spit giving as much lube as necessary

‘That’s it boy you now start moving back onto my prick’

‘Fuck I feel I’m going to explode’

‘Oh stop the crap and take it like a man.. That’s it you’ve got the hang of it now. Keep moving your arse further and further in. You’re tight but fucking fantastic ‘Keep going you’re almost at the hilt.’

‘I fucking hope so cant take much more length.’

With one push Big Jim was fully in.

Right Jake just fuckin looking and rubbing your dick, its time for you to give some action and give our mate here some head. I can see you can’t wait to get his knob down your throat.

Jake bent down while Wayne pushed himself further and further into Big Jim’s pubes.

‘Christ I can feel you right up’

‘I fuckin well hope so’

Jake  started licking Wayne’s head dripping his spit and feeling it mix with Wayne’s precum.

‘Load of pre there man. You’d have to with a dick this size up you

Jake slowly let his mouth move up the shaft, making sure his saliva made the cock easy to get down his throat. He loved cock especially Wayne’s as the further down he got the thicker the cock was making him open his mouth fully. Once fully in he starting sliding his mouth up and down the shaft getting faster and faster

‘Fuck man, you always give the best head. Come on Jim get that prick of yours moving in and out. I wanna come with you spurting inside me.’

‘You asked for it boy and with that Jim started lunging in and out making sure his groin was right into Wayne’s arse, pounding him. He could hear the noise of the precum and spit getting louder and louder the more he fucked.

Jake had his hand wrapped around his dick wanking hard ready to swallow all Wayne’s juice

Jesus man I’m going to come, your big dick is making me so fucking horny I can’t wait any longer. Jake get ready to swallow, I’ve got bags of cum going down yer throat.’

Big Jim slowly took his cock back ready for the final push.

‘Ready boy I’m cumin all the way up you. So fucking much it’ll be coming out yer mouth.’

‘Fuck man I’m cumming

‘So am I, take it Jake, shit what a fiuck’

‘Yes  boi here is comes yea, Fucking hell.’

And with that Big Jim threw his head back and all went dark

James woke up. It had all been a dream but not only had Big Jim spunked but James’s dream was so real he had come all over his chest, spunk all the way to his neck.

‘God what a dream that was amazing. I’ll need to go and shower.’

And with that the doorbell went not just once but several times.

‘Christ I’ll have to answer that. He quickly put on his tracksuit and hoping no one would notice his dripping cock making a stain, he opened the front door.

Wayne was standing leaning against the door frame with mug in hand, his eyes glinting at James, dressed in full HiViz with a thick jacket and trousers.

‘So mate, I need some water for my tea. Thought I’d get some from you. You going to ask me in?’

‘I’m busy but if you just want some water come into the kitchen.. Where’s your mate?’

‘Buggered off so just me today, at least for the moment.’

‘Let me have your mug and I’ll fill up.’

‘Don’t think I’m wrong mate but you smell of spunk. Am I right? Looks as though there some left overs staining your trackies. Been wanking thinking of me, eh’

James was speechless

‘I saw you looking at me rubbing me crotch the first day and when I saw you looking out the window I bent down knowing you were getting off seeing my tight bum. Right eh? I fucking knew you were wanking at the window. So you get off on Hi Viz workies do you? I tell you we get hit on all the times by blokes who love the gear like you. So you wanna try some on, what about mine. Bet that would really turn you. You’d feel my body part of you eh?’

Wayne gave his cock an ru knowing full well James was staring at him, and all this talk was getting not just him but James also really horny

‘Well em, if you want.’

‘Right then get your trackies off and I can first see that bod of yours and all the spunk that’s drying off.’

James did as he was told took his trackies off

‘Shit man that’s a hell of a lot of spunk I can see. Good balls eh? And not a bad sized dick either which I can see is looking for some hot action. Got a wee surprise for you mate, hope you are ready. I knew I would have you today.’

Wayne undid his jacket and opened up to take off. Underneath James saw a white T shirt with the word SKIN in large red letters on the front and red braces. His tats showed strong all the way down his arms

Wayne let down his trousers and under he had a pair of bleachers and 19hole Doc Martins with yellow laces.

‘Eyes out on stalks boi? Like what you see. This is me when not a workie but I still luv being a fucking workie.’

Wayne stood there in front of James with his head fully shaved and glistening and all the tattoos showing down his muscled arms, he was the perfect skin.

‘So get the gear on.’ Wayne barked at James.

All James wanted was to put on the Hi Viz gear and he could smell Wayne  he hadn’t washed for several days but that made it all the better.  James just wanted to please Wayne

God it felt great and knowing it was Wayne’s made him start to feel so horny.

Wayne put his arm around James’s neck and pulled him in to him so their faces were touching.

‘Now open yer mouth.’

As James opened his mouth so Wayne kissed him and stuck his tongue down the throat releasing a huge gob of spit into James mouth.

‘Swallow that’ he barked.

As James let the gob slide down his throat so he suddenly had a burning sensation like an electric jolt through his body but it felt bloody great.

‘Feeling good boi eh?’

‘Yea feel different.’

‘Bloody right what’s yer name?’

‘J-boi’

‘Yeh and what are you?’

‘Your bitch’

And what does my bitch do

Lick your boots

‘So fucking get down and do it in my hi viz gear. You love my fuckin gear don’t you bitch’

J-boi did as told and knelt on the floor covering Wayne’s boots with spit and licking. Wayne put one booted foot on J-boi’s head and pressed it down.

‘I said fucking lick, so get on with it. You love it boy licking my boots and being my bitch.’

J-boi licked as though his life depended on it and the more he licked he more his cock hardened making him feel so horny. He loved his cock rubbing against Wayne’s trousers making him feel part of Wayne, a skin workie.

‘Now work your way up my bleachers’

Slowly still tonguing J-boi made his way up until he came to the hard long outline of Waynes cock. Shit what a cock. His full length was straining down his bleacher leg wanting to be released but not before he made J-boi work for it.

‘Now get your mouth round my head and feel the length. Good aint it, it’s what you want you fuckin little bitch.

J-boi said nothing,  he was too busy loving feeling the cock through the bleachers. He sat back looking up at Wayne like a pup.

‘You want my dick down that throat of yours don’t you boi’

‘Fucking right I do Master. You do with me what you want.’

With difficulty Wayne pulled down his zip and forced outhis thick juicy dick. It bounced up in boi’s face.

‘Look mate you’ve got be fucking hard, that what bitches do. So open that fucking mouth wide and take what’s coming to you’ as he smeared his pre cum cock against J-boi’s face

Wayne grabbed boi by the hair.

‘Once you’ve had my spunk I’m getting rid of all that  fuckin hair of yours. I wan my bitch a true skinhead. As you’r goin to be a fucking dirty workie you’ve gotta look a real man

He rammed hic dick into Boi’s mouth. At first he gagged with the size and ferocity that Wayne rammed it in but he wanted every inch Wayne could give him and let his mouth and throat take the full length. He felt the pubes rubbing against his face.

‘Jesus you love my sweaty dick. I haven’t washed for a couple of days knowing I was coming here. Nice a cheesy with some hardened cum on it. Thinking of you in my Hi Viz gear sucking me off had me wanking big time but better knowing that now you’re no longer a fucking pansy but one of us Skins. A bit of work but I’ll have you tattooed, hair shaved and smoking packets of ciggies in no time

His hands still grabbing Boi, he pulled him in and out, Boi’s spit dripping down his face

‘Christ you know how to give head boi. I picked the right one to be my bitch. I’m going cum and you’re gonna take all. There’s a sackful going down.

Boi in Wayne’s Hi Viz could only think of all that cum and sucked quicker and quicker.

‘Christ I’m coming ,take it all boy’ and he exploded into Boi’s mouth. Too much for him to swallow and it oozed down his chin and on to the Hi Viz jacket. ‘Christ what a fucking blow job. Jesus boi you’re the best.’

He hauled Boi up and stuffed his mouth down bois throat licking his own cum and feeling Boi’s spit.

Master, my cocks so fucking hard in your gear, I need to cum.’

‘Ok Boi but rub yerself off in my gear, I want all that cum to run down and harden inside. Let me see you wank now Boi.

Boi had his hand around his dick rubbing up an down on the trousersfeeling Wayn’s hardened cum inside and knowing he was going to cum and mix it with Wayne’s

That’s it Boi, shoot yer fucking load inside.

Christ, I’m cumming, shit I’ve still a fucking great load in me balls Yeeees fuck man , shitttt! And Boi gushed a wad of cum inside Wayne’s Hi viz and Boi could feel it running all the way down his leg, loads of good white cum.

He sat back exhausted still oozing Wayne’s cum from his mouth

Zipping himself up Wayne said

‘Right Boi its time you got your hands dirty and came out to do an afternoon’s work in your Hi Viz. I’ll watch you with me mug of tea. Then it’s off to the barbers for you and a full razor job. I want that head of yours gleaming. After that the Tat shop to get your fist tattoo and I’ll choose what it is. Like the idea of a swastika on yer neck. Have you looking like a real skin. We’ll pick up a few can of beers with your money and then home to get you into some good skin gear of mine before we hit the pubs. Seeing you get into my skin gear will make me so fucking horny that you can expect a right good fucking before we go out. It what you wanna be mate, a fucking Hi Viz Skin. My bitch. If yer lucky I may share you around with some of the blokes

‘Sounds fucking great, master’

‘That’s my J-boi’

To be continued?

[obetrolncocktails]

Karma Sutra | Sam Kiszka X Reader | Part 1

Warnings: 18+ readers/interaction ONLY. slut-shaming, female objectification, frat boy Sam, crude language, alcohol consumption, mention of drug usage, mention of graphic injury. Fluff. :)

Word Count: 2.3K

A/N: I've brought Karma Sutra back from the dead and have reworked much of the story in a way that better suits the way I have always wanted the story line to go. Hope you enjoy! Here's the first of many parts of Karma Sutra.

Listen while you read!

Karma Sutra Playlist

You felt eyes on you as you walked across the quad between classes. For what reason, you couldn’t place, but you knew that you were being watched. Peering across the quad, eyes flitting in all directions, you attempted to find the source of your insecurity. Nothing. You bundled yourself tighter within the thickness of your peacoat, shielding yourself from the evening cold. Making your way under an awning, you smelled the familiar odor of cigarette smoke. It wafted in your direction, beckoning for you to turn your gaze upward. Ugh. Of-fucking-course. Sam douche-bag-extraordinaire Kiszka. “Cold as fuck out here,” he said to you casually, puffing out O-rings of smoke from the side of his mouth. 

“Mm, so you decide to step out in forty degree weather to smoke a ciggy?” You spat sarcastically. 

 “It’s a bad habit, sweetheart. You know what they say…they die hard.” You rolled your eyes and marched away from him. “There’s a party on the row tonight–you coming?” your eyebrows furrowed instantly, turning over your shoulder to meet his gaze. 

“I haven’t been to a frat party in over a year, Sam. Why would I?” He threw his hands in the air, shrugging. His cigarette remained burning between two fingers, dropping ashes every few seconds to the ground. 

“Just thought it might be nice to see a refreshing face for once.” 

What the fuck? Why was Sam taking sudden interest in me? “I gotta make it to class. See you around.” You waved him off and continued walking to class. 

“Hey, Y/N, for old-time’s-sake, it really would be nice to see you there.” His eyes were the color of chocolate, which was ironic. His beauty could melt any girl on campus just like the confection–except for you. You would always be the exception. “Bye, Samuel.”

Samuel. He liked the way his name sounded on your lips. He bit at the corner of his lip, his eyes trailing you as you disappeared within the halls. Mm, I’ll save her for later, he thought. Blowing out the last puff of smoke, he stubbed out his cigarette against the brick wall, dropping it carelessly to the ground before strolling away to the next entertaining encounter. 

***

Philosophy class soon turned into Philo-so-fucking-boring class extremely fast. Your mind wandered from the lecture, unable to focus. Why the fuck was he watching me? The truth that you wouldn’t even admit to yourself was that you had feelings for Sam, and had since freshman year. They’ve remained in the recesses of your mind ever since. For one, he was an asshole. You and almost every girl on campus knew it; however, some part of you would always have a soft spot for him, no matter how cocky he was. He just didn’t know it, and you sure as hell wouldn’t show it either. Fuck that red turtleneck sweater. Why did he have to look so good in it? You caught yourself doodling random hearts and sparkles in the margins of your notes as you thought about him. 

“Pssst, hey.” Your best friend, Paige, jabbed you from behind with the top of her pen. “Pay attention, there’s going to be an exam tomorrow.” Your hands flew to cover your notebook from her view. “What are you hiding?” She whispered, curious as to why you were being so secretive. 

“It’s nothing, just drawings.” You realized a little bit too late that mere drawings wouldn’t have elicited such a reaction.

 “Doesn’t seem like it’s just a few drawings.”

 “Ladies, would you like to share your conversation with the class? Is it more important than the material that will be on tomorrow’s exam? Would you like to take it today after class since you don’t seem invested in the review?” You fell silent and averted eye contact, heat creeping up your neck to your face. The remainder of class passed excruciatingly slow. When three o’clock finally arrived, you filtered out of the classroom to meet up with Paige. 

“So I was thinking…how would you feel about going to the Row tonight.” Meeting your expectations, she recoiled instantly. 

“Uh, who are you and where is Y/N? You never go to parties.” You turned away from her and began to walk down the hallway. 

“I just thought it might be nice to do something different for a change.” Your cheeks were flaming again. 

“You’re such a liar. Who is it?” You bit your lip. 

“What do you mean?” you stalled. Paige stopped you mid-gait, grabbing at your arm. 

“Who is it, Y/N?” You had no choice but to look at her. 

“Ryan McClean.” Another Lie. It was a good replacement though. He was sweet, good looking and respectful. At least as much as could be expected for a frat boy. Paige stepped back with a hand on her hip. 

“You’ve never mentioned him, let alone told me you have a crush on him.” You continued to walk, ushering her forward.

 “Well, it kinda happened fast. I don’t know–I was hoping to see him tonight. I wanted to look cute.” You saved face by putting on an extra air of confidence. 

“Okay, okay I see you!” Paige grinned, snapping her fingers left and right as she walked. 

“Unfortunately, I have a date with Mark tonight–so I won’t be able to go.” You nodded, secretly relieved that she wouldn’t have to see you lose what little humility you had left. 

“Stay connected to the phone, don’t drink too much, play safe, get home safe,” she counted off on her fingers. 

“Thank you, Mom. Would you like to dress me, too?” you asked, grinning. Paige rolled her eyes playfully. 

“Actually, now that you ask, let’s go pick out an outfit that doesn’t scream ‘pilgrim lost in the twenty-first century.’” You eyed her for a silent moment, challenging each other not to laugh, but you were the first one to lose, throwing your head back and cackling at her. 

“You are such a bitch!” You said, elbowing her. “Let’s go. Paige wouldn’t let you go to that party without looking your best.

***

“Lacy Monroe.” “Total babe, thirteen out of ten, would fuck her any day,” Wyatt Sellars interjected, a massive grin pasted on his face. 

“Okay, how about Holly?” Matthew asked the question from the ping-pong table, tapping balls back to Wyatt. Christian Hearst entered the room next, a towel wrapped around his waist, applying deodorant to his armpits. 

“Wilson? She’s a bit of a bitch, but I'd chase her for a little while until I got bored.” He chuckled, walking to the fridge for a beer.

“How about Y/N?” The room falls silent, save for the fast bounce of the forfeited ping pong ball that was previously in play. Samuel Francis Kiszka. He sits cross-legged on a lounge chair in the corner, knocking back the rest of his IPA.

“You mean the sexiest girl at school?” Wyatt offered. “Is she Mormon or something? She could have easily made her way through the entire football team by now.” 

“Jesus, you dumb fuck, she’s not Mormon.” Christian came behind Wyatt, thumping him on the back of his head. 

“Well-I didn’t know, I–” 

“I think she’s stunning,” Sam says, leaning forward to place his elbows on his knees. His grin was obvious, and his cunning expression cut through the room.

“Okay, asshole. What’s with the look?” Christian moved to the couch, taking a seat across from sam. 

“I saw her today. Walking to class.” He licked his lips as he talked. Christian rubbed his hands together, prepared to hear about some salacious romp. 

“And?” 

Sam’s eyes grow wider. “Oh, n-nothing happened, I just saw her.” A chorus of disappointed scoffs filled the room.

 “You fucking suck, man. You literally had us going, just for nothing,” Wyatt whined. 

“It’s not like anything would happen– I’m pretty sure she’s a virgin anyway,” Sam continued with a casual shrug. 

“Oh, so she’s the pick of the litter. Nice!” Matthew interjected. Sam looked at him with a minor look of disgust, shaking his head. 

“So why are you being a pussy, Sam? I Bet–” Christian pointed his finger at Sam in a telling gesture. “I bet you…I bet you that she won’t let you take her virginity before the month is over.” Rising from his seat, Sam padded to the kitchen tossing his beer bottle across the room, where it clattered into the trash can. 

“I bet you I can make it happen. Six hundred dollars and open supply of weed for one month–split evenly.” His grin emanated throughout the room. 

“Aha, bet!” Matthew said, coming around Sam to slap him on the back in approval. “Paying up like a man.” Sam took a long gulp of his beer before retreating to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. 

***

Just as you finished your makeup, your hand slipped and your eyeliner streaked messily through the eyeshadow that you had just applied so effortlessly. “Fuck!” An exasperated sigh escaped your parted lips as you wiped at your eyelid to salvage the look. After several minutes, you emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed except for your top–you didn’t want to ruin it with makeup stains. Just as you pulled your head through the sparkly black crop top, your phone chimes. Paige.

Show Ryan what he’s missing, bitch! Shake that ass in my absence, too. Stay safe, I love you. Call me if you need me.

Right. Ryan. My little secret. You sent her a quick text wishing her well on her date. Pulling a pair of gold hoops through your ears, you got a notification that Carlos, your Uber driver, was waiting outside of your apartment. Grabbing a few last minute items, you made your way downstairs. Pulling up to campus, you noticed one thing first. It was loud. So loud in fact, that your head  was pounding by the time you made it to the Row. The identical houses were arranged in a perfect square with a patch of green lawn in the middle. Adirondack chairs littered the grass, loosely thrown around a glowing brick fire-pit. Girls looped themselves around boys, chattering aimlessly with beverages that sloppily poured over the sides of their cups and onto their laps and into the grass. They giggled and slurred–their heels dug into the earth, causing several unfortunate partygoers to trip and lurch, earning themselves yet another spilled drink or bitchy laugh from gaggles of jealous and judgemental girls.  

You rolled your eyes, debating on going after all, but your feet were already moving underneath you, carrying you along the sidewalk that led to each house. Who were you to think that it was smart to come here alone, especially when it was the first party you had attended in God-knows-how long? 

“Y/n!” Your eyes darted upward, trying to place the voice that was calling your name. You found him. Your eyes met his and you instantly felt like you were drowning. A vignette seemed to filter out the unnecessary material around you; the blaring music muted, the giggles and shouts subsided into soft static. He was impeccably dressed in navy silk. A tailored blazer skimmed his bare chest, provided as a mere accessory rather than a true piece of clothing. His bottoms hugged at his frame, falling just above a perfectly shined pair of leather loafers. His hands were casually tucked into his pockets as he looked directly at you–with that fucking smile. 

He strode towards you, knocking you out of the trance. Your breath hitched, sending bolts of panic through your system as he approached. Oh shit, what do I do? You thought, averting eye contact as you made every attempt to not look as awkward and helpless as you really were. 

“You’re not a figment of my imagination, right? If I remember correctly, you acted like you would rather be caught dead than come to the Row.” His feet landed in front of you as he arrived. You met his eyes, crossing your arms defensively.

“Well, I wanted to see what I was missing–by the looks of it, it just looks like it’ll lead to meaningless sex and a bitch of a hangover.”

He readjusted in his spot, cocking an eyebrow upward. He likes your sass. He likes it a lot. “Well, it is a party, Y/n, what better to do than get drunk and fuck, hmm?” You scoffed at him, stepping off to the side, making your way to the first house. You heard his shoes tapping the pavement as he walked. Good. You wanted him to follow you. 

“What's your drink of choice?” He asked, trying to change the subject to something more playful. “I usually stick with tequila–the citrus notes are just–” You heard him kiss the tips of his fingers in a ‘chef’s kiss’ gesture from behind you. You couldn’t help but grin, careful to maintain your guarded disposition. 

“Got any Pappy?”  You asked, turning over your shoulder with a grin. “I’m an expensive lay.”

Sammy snorted. “Two thousand dollar bourbon? You know the fucking answer, sweetheart.” That earned him a smile. You turned to face him and were immediately tossed upside down at the sight of his dimples. 

“Well, we do have some lovely white claw reserve that was bought at this very upscale store. Maybe you know it–Target?” You couldn’t help but chuckle at him. 

“Shut up, Sam!” He smiled warmly, coming beside you, pulling an arm around your shoulder.

 “Let’s go find something worth drinking, hmm?” You hadn’t processed what was happening, but you didn’t want to, either. You let it happen, weighing risk versus reward.  You stepped forward into the party with him at your side, forgetting the lie you had told Paige. So much for finding Ryan. You had found Sam.

___

End of Part 1.

Taglist: @gold-mines-melting @itsafullmoon @gracev0609 @dilflover-4ever @fleetingjake @savannhuh @jazzyfigz @ashisill @wetkleenex-gvf @ageofwagner @lipstickitty @muffin-heads @stanfordpinesmarryme @i-choose-the-road. @dannythedog @lizzielbr @mar-rein12 @weneedsomehealing123 @feelslikejakey

[cinematicgf]

Te deseo, cariño- soft!javi

Summary: you and javier are sitting in your apartment listening to the blues after he calls to see you on your day off- (yeah that’s pretty much it)

Pairings: javier pena x afab!reader (call girl!reader)

Warnings and notes: no warnings really, soft!javi, fluffy fluff, deep convos ig, call girl/sex worker reader, no use of y/n, making out, mentions of sex work, petnames, listening to the blues baby!!

~ 1.4k

A/N: hi all<3 enjoy this little fluffy Javi drabble. i usually write smut but i couldn't get this idea out of my head. as always, your feedback is always welcome, please like, comment and reblog<3

ps. he’s soooo lana coded, hence the west coast title, good LORD

~

The quaint sounds of Roy Buchanan settled in slumber around your body. There was gold peeking through the large twin windows of your apartment, a hue on your skin that felt like a flame, but all you could perceive before you in that instance was the seraph draped in your mother’s knitted blanket. Javi seated himself heavily on your couch, two autonomous curls fallen over his closed eyes and majesty at his fingertips. He hummed along to the soft, tragic acoustics of Drifting and Drifting. The raw impeccable talent of the blues singer being appreciated fully in the comfortable silence of the room, both of your exhaling of smoke being the only thing to cut through the silence.

A discarded pack of cigarettes lay on your desktop, a cloud of smoke eased through the empty air of your apartment as you breathed in the relaxing atmosphere of Javier Pena, cigarette dangling from his lips, hair messy and dressed in nothing but unbuttoned jeans, lying soundly with one foot on the arm of the couch and the other planted on the carpeted floor. You were leaning on your bed a couple of feet away, a thin t-shirt halting at your abdomen showing a peak of nipple, whilst your trousers were discarded on the floor, leaving you in your panties. You watched Javi drag from his ciggie, enthralled in the song, a thin layer of sweat coated his tanned bare chest. He had never looked so calm. He spoke outside of a song for the first time since the album began, “What’re you thinking about over there?” He broke eye contact with the ceiling and fixed them on you.

“Nothing. Just listening,” Your answer didn’t change the expression upon his face, so you took it he wanted you to elaborate, “Listening more to you than the record that is… I never knew you liked the blues, you never seem to play them when I’ve been in the car with you, or…. around any of the other girls?”

He shook his head, “I don’t think I would play them around anyone else.”

“How come?” you questioned while your body moved to the edge of your bed to be a bit closer to him. There were still a few feet between you, but the empty space was filled with possibility.

“Well, princesa” he brought his arm up to rest behind his head, “There’s something about them- they feel more… special.”

You grinned a little, before your smile fell. You thought about the tragic lyricism of the album you were playing, the crying of the guitar. You hesitated before asking what had been on your mind. The two of you weren’t seeing each other, as such, but after you had taken a job as a call girl for some extra money on the side to pay for your younger brother’s college tuition, he had seemed to have taken a liking to you, always requesting you when his emotions got the better of him and he needed to let off some steam after an operation went wrong, or when the notorious Escobar case was heating up.

After a couple of months of this, you found yourself staying for longer and longer each night. The two of you lying in bed next to each other, sometimes enveloped in one of his muscular arms, as you listened to music and talked. He had opened up about his dangerous job once he knew he could trust you, and sometimes, even when you had the night off, you would receive a call from him. You weren’t an informant, like so many of your coworkers before you, but you weren’t just another fuck to get it all out of his system either. This was one of those evenings. The sun caressing the edge of Medellin, drowning the city in a hazy hue; threatening another humid night.

He continued, “They’re songs we listen to when I was a kid. They have a nostalgia element linked with them that just… I don’t know… eases me, I guess. It makes me think about my mother, childhood, her and my father dancing in the kitchen on weekends.” He takes another drag of the almost finished cigarette before continuing his reminiscence. “I know you understand, I watch you close your eyes and really take in the melody, hermosa. It eases you too. I don’t want to play it around others because… I don't want to mix the image of them with the image of you when we’re alone.” You found comfort in knowing the music meant something special to this usually cutoff and hardened man. They were some of your most beloved songs and it was an added bonus that your parents didn’t mind the sound of them when they inevitably traveled through the thin walls. You managed to make something of the music and how it sat with you and that was your favorite part of being around him.

“I understand… Javier,” You hesitated again. He turned his head to meet your eyes once more. There was a sadness to them that you had been aware of, sure, but that you had never really looked into until now. “Do you think you’re a lonely person?” you whisper, deciding to just come right out and say what was on your mind.

He sighs heavily and you wonder if you’ve made a mistake in asking him this deeply personal question. You begin to apologize before he cuts you off, “Carino, I’ve still got a lot living to do, I guess… I don’t have much time to dwell on it, work takes up most of my time but… yeah,” He stood up from the couch and sat down beside you on the bed. He smiled at you for a quick second before laying his head in your lap and fixing his eyes on the ceiling again, “but I’ve got plenty of love to dwell in, I just need to find a way to remember that”. You can tell he is thinking about his parents again as the song comes to an end and the next song starts. The guitar cries on.

You watched as his demeanor brightened as he closed his eyes, taking in the melody. His lips twitched into a small smile and his usual frown relaxed as he sunk into you slightly. If your face could glow anymore radiant it’d plaster a silhouette on your apartment wall.

The both of you settled in comfortable silence again as the tune carried around your apartment. You didn’t think you had ever seen anyone so beautiful as the man lying in your lap, eyes closed. You gently raked your fingers through his hair, leaning back against your bed frame.

The sun was perfectly set now, and you could hardly see where he sat just moments ago on your creaky couch. Fleeting moments were contemptuous as they departed, but the present mended all resentment you had for goodbyes. You could see him. I could see his earnestness intertwined with the hard man he had molded into because of his dangerous job. How he hypothesized without fear of irresolution. And how he saw you for who you were, besides being a call girl. Besides being someone to call for a quickie. He saw you as an actual person, someone with interests and a childhood similar to his own.

“I think, you should stay tonight”, you whispered into his hair, placing a gentle kiss on his crown before removing the cigarette from his lips to take a puff. He used the opportunity to lift himself up slightly and place an open-mouthed kiss to your lips, tongue intertwining with yours, the taste of cigarettes and a hint of whiskey filling your senses as you kissed him back, ardently. He cupped your chin, thumb moving to open your mouth slightly wider for a better taste before moving your legs out from under him and settling you at his side. You replaced the cigarette back in his lips.

“I think I’d like that”, he replied without hesitation, eyes closing again as he laced a muscular arm around you and pulled you in to his bare chest. The blues played on as the two of you fell asleep entangled in each other.

~

[metallicaislife]

Coconut Tequila

A/N: This idea came to me... I'll let you guess what I was doing haha but I left myself a note with this idea. Hope y'all enjoy it!

Genre: Comedy Fluff

Word Count: 1,486

Warnings: Alcohol and smoking

I groaned, peeling my eyes open as my head throbbed. I slowly sat up rubbing my eyes. I looked around and it dawned on me I was not in my room. There wasn’t anyone next to me, and absolutely no clues to indicate where I was. I checked under the blanket, I was still completely dressed. I was about to get up and investigate despite the hammering in my head.

“Morning Sunshine.” Duff said as he leaned against the doorframe. 

“Hey Duff…” I replied, “where am I?” I asked. 

“My room, don’t worry I slept on the couch. You don’t remember much from last night do you?” He asked, pushing off and motioned to the water and presumably tylenol on the bedside table. 

“No, I don’t… Thank you.” I said, popping the pills in my mouth and swallowing them down with water.  

“Maybe you should invest in a shot glass.” He joked with a small laugh as if it was some inside joke and sat on the edge of his bed. I wracked my brain but nothing was coming up. 

“Well this was fun, I should go.” I said and got up, still extremely discombobulated.

“Your shoes are over there.” He pointed to a corner in his room. 

“Thanks.” I replied and grabbed them. I waved awkwardly and left. 

I managed to make it out of the house without running into anyone. I was grateful. Saul or Steven would’ve given me so much shit and my head hurt too much for either of their antics.

I walked home and went about my day. I was cleaning up my kitchen and saw a bottle of 1800 Coconut Tequila. Slowly, the memories from last night came to me. 

Saul called me earlier in the day to let me know he and his band were having a party at their place. I grew up with Saul, and Steven after he moved to the area. I knew the other members of their band, Guns ‘N Roses, but wasn’t as close to them yet. On my way home from work I picked up a bottle of Coconut Tequila to take. 

I entered the house and made my way through the sea of people. 

“Y/N!” I turned to see Steven. 

“Hey!” I greeted. He gave me a hug and I handed him the bottle of Tequila. 

“Damn, you got the good stuff. I'll put this in the kitchen. Go mingle and have a good time!” He said and left. I did as he said 

A while later I was in the kitchen, I’d already had a couple cocktails and decided now was the time for shots. Instead of finding a shot glass I began pouring the tequila into my solo cup. 

“You’re dangerous, you're free pouring.” Duff said as he entered the kitchen. I looked up with a grin on my face. 

“It’s more fun this way.” I replied and downed the shot. 

“There is a shot glass around here somewhere, want me to find you one?” He asked as he leaned against the counter. 

“No thanks, this is fine.” I started to pour another, I accidentally poured a little too much, “whoops! That’s like two in one.” I giggled and drank the tequila. “Wooo!” I rubbed my chest as the fire of the tequila made its way down. Duff shook his head with a small laugh. 

“Do you free pour it at home too?” He asked. 

“Yup, not a single shot glass in any of my cupboards.” I looked up grinning at him. 

With the conversation over I left for the main part of the party. I found Saul and began dancing with him. In between dances I would go back to the kitchen and pour some more tequila. 

Eventually I found myself outside leaning against the house smoking a cigarette. Drunk ciggies are the best; they feel so much more smooth. 

“Are you doing okay?” 

I squinted, eventually the person came into focus, it was Duff. 

“Yeah I’m doing great.” I slurred a little bit. 

“You look like you’ve been having fun.” He said as he lit a cigarette. 

“Most definitely, I wouldn't miss one of these parties for the world.” I grinned. I put out the cigarette in the ashtray and pushed off the house. That’s when my world started to go topsy-turvy. 

“Hey, hey. Hey.” He immediately grabbed my arm, stabilizing me. “Okay, you are definitely not good.” He put his cigarette out and helped me in the back door. He looked at the counter. “Y/N, did you finish the tequila?” He asked. 

“Whoops!” I giggled, leaning heavily on him. “You smell really good by the way.” I said, his cologne wafted off of him, the scent mixed with cigarettes.

“Good lord.” He mumbled. He bent down to put my arm around his shoulder and helped me through the house into a room.

My eyes were growing heavy as he helped lay me down. He took my shoes off. Then he turned me onto my side, and I groaned. “Gotta make sure you stay safe.” He said and tucked me in. 

“Mmm thank you…” I mumbled and quickly fell asleep. 

I slapped my forehead growing so embarrassed. I can’t believe I made a total fool of myself in front of Duff. Maybe he was right, I’ll have to get a shot glass, no more free pouring from here on out. Free pouring is always a better idea in the moment, but I usually regret it the next day when I’m extremely hungover. 

I continued going about my day before heading to the store. I picked out two shot glasses and made my way to the Hell House. 

I knocked on the door, Saul opened the door and smiled at me. 

“Hey, did you forget something here?” He asked. 

“My dignity.” I answered and he laughed, “Is Duff home?” I asked. 

“Yeah, he’s in his room.” He answered. His eyebrow furrowed, he looked like he wanted to ask a question, but instead he just moved aside so I could enter. 

“Thanks.” I said over my shoulder and made my way to Duff’s room. I stood in the doorway, he was sitting on his bed reading a book. I knocked on the open door. He looked up and a smile broke out on his face. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, placed his book on the bedside table and patted the spot beside him. 

“Hey, Y/N. To what do I owe this pleasure?” He finally greeted me. 

“Hey, Duff. I come bearing a gift,” I replied and sat beside him. 

“Please tell me there isn’t anymore coconut tequila in that bag.” He said with fake exasperation. I laughed softly. 

“No, no. I won’t touch that stuff again… at least until next weekend.” I joked, he laughed, bumping me with his shoulder. 

“Okay, what’s in the bag then?” He asked curiously. 

“First I have to say, thank you, for taking care of me so kindly. Second, sorry to have been a nuisance in the first place and taken your bed-“ I started, he waved his hand. 

“It was no problem at all, I just wanted to make sure you were okay and didn’t have to sleep on the floor somewhere.” He said resting his arms on his knees with his fingers interlocked between his legs. 

“Which brings me to three,” I pulled the shot glasses out of the bag and handed him one. He laughed loudly. “A gift to thank you for your help.” I finished.

“Matching shot glasses?” He asked, holding his next to mine. 

“Yup, this way, I won't pour freely at home anymore and if I’m here you can politely encourage me to use yours.” I said. He grinned at me. 

“Sounds like a good idea. Thank you, I’ll treasure this.” He said looking back at the glass in his hand. 

“Good, it’s a commemorative shot glass to honor the night we became best friends.” I said and bumped his shoulder with mine. 

“Best friends, yeah?” He asked, looking over at me. 

“Duh, you don’t go through something like that without getting closer. I’m just grateful I didn’t throw up.” I said putting my shot glass back in the bag. 

“Actually…” he trailed off.

“No.” I said, horror washed over me as I whipped my head to look at him. He chuckled. 

“Yeah, you must not remember but outside as you started getting dizzy you barfed a little on my shoes.” He replied.

“Aw man, I'm so sorry.” I said putting my face in my hands. 

“Eh, I got a shot glass and a best friend out of it so we’re even.” He said, I peeked through my fingers and he grinned at me. I couldn’t help but smile back at him. 

I wasn’t grateful for my hangover, but I was grateful that Coconut Tequila helped Duff and I grow closer.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to request or chat :)

-Isa

[deva-arts]

Hey Deva. what do your OC's mouths taste like.

I'M HAUNTED BY MY WORDS...

But okay sure fine I'll answer

First off we have a headcanon from Ritz:

Scrumptious!

Okay here's what I think:

Seraphina: She might not be too romantic, but she has excellent hygiene and doesn't go making out with Nathaniel without being nicely fresh. "It's basic courtesy to brush your teeth for a minute and thirty seconds before each kiss, Nathaniel. I would have it no other wa- ack- wait-" He really doesn't care and will try to sneak in more than a few sweet moments between work regardless. She'd like to say she's not a fan of canoodling during a tight schedule... But she loves that shit.

All this to say she probably tastes like mint. Or just a clean mouth. Sometimes energy drinks.

Nathaniel: Nathaniel is a doctor, but before that he was quite the playboy! Nate's pretty seasoned in the art of romance, especially since he's lived through so many different appearances. (He has to mind the teeth a little now that he is exclusively using this form, though...) He's always keeping nice with cologne and clean clothes, going a little extra on the mouthwash, etc.... Unless he is burning himself out doctor-style, then he... Just tries to keep himself showered and his teeth brushed.

Nathaniel tastes like mouthwash or breath fresheners when he's a spry rooster looking to woo Ser... But when he's tired he just tastes like mouth. He just wants some love. Please. (She stays in that day.)

Sonia!

Sonia makes sure her lips are fruit flavored so that her kisses can be "An experience that'll always make you crave me." Okay Sonia. But to be fair, she is a good kisser. Not only does she smell nice, her chemical synthesis ability essentially sterilizes and monitors the processes in her body, including harmful bacteria in the mouth. She would pleasantly surprise Nate if he ever needed to test a swab.

She tastes like cherry lipstick, the taste in your mouth you get right after brushing your teeth a third time, with a hint of something... lightly spicy? You find out later that it's acid.

Vincent! I'm not looking forward to writing this one WOOO

Vincent is an extremely... Meticulous individual. But only for certain things. For others he has no conceptual foundation and thus does not consider or practice them. He will shower three times a day. He brushes his teeth until his gums bleed. He bites his nails down to nubs.

But he will not moisturize, or do maintenance for the plentiful amounts of scar tissue on his body. His skin is rough and textured differently with every square inch you come across. His lips are chapped my guy. They're chapped bad. He smells a little weird too. Like feathers and gasoline, covered poorly with a plentiful amount of body spray. He also doesn't floss and eats anything under the sun.

His mouth tastes like the aftertaste whatever edible or inedible object he's eaten, with a hint of oral decay. He's a bad kisser the first few goes around too. His idea of cuddling is some rough pats on your back that feel more like the heimlich maneuver. Let's hope you caught him after he's brushed his teeth, at least.

(Human Vincent tastes like Cigarettes, beer, and whatever candy he popped in his mouth in hopes of ridding the taste of ciggies and beer.)

Amon:

The first occupational hazard lies in his teeth. They're very sharp. He has bitten off his own tongue before in several occasions. OW??? The second lies in his nice, plush yet firm body being a MUSCLE DEATHTRAP where he might squeeze you a little too hard and save you money on your next chiropractic appointment. (Actually, maybe still go to the chiropractor.) After that? He's a great kisser. He practices good hygiene (he has to lead Adra by example!) and smells like body spray used tastefully.

Amon tastes like a minty, mouthwashed mouth with a hint of copper. You try not to think about it too hard.

Eric!!

His mouth tastes like... Nothing? And not like mouth-nothing, more like water-nothing. His ability as a state-shifter makes all of the cells in his body convert into the cellular equivalent of a sea salp. Even though his humanoid form keeps these aspects of his body in a dormant state, where they process and function like normal, the green parts still retain that odd texture and quality to them. Of course, if he eats or drinks something that tastelessness is going to change.

Eric might also taste like pizza, cheap alcohol, toothpaste, or... lime Cool Aide?

Strohl!

Kissing a man who is basically a living electrical generator is not a good idea??? He tastes and feels like television static, and sometimes you hear some sparks actually flying on his end. He assures you that he has it under control, but in the same breath tells you not to surprise him if you wear conductive jewelry. Okay. This is fine.

Some say they like the feel of the static. Others take their leave early. He can't really blame them, so they leave, their NDA signed and a digital check bestowed to them. Katya is the first woman who was entirely immune to his power, and that made him feel much more secure with holding her close.

Strohl tastes like TV static, expensive liquor, and whatever dessert he's eaten earlier. He's a fan of sweets despite his workout regimen not permitting them.

Honorable mentions:

Titan tastes like blood,

Cain tastes like raw flesh and he will bite your tongue,

Karin Eris tastes like black licorice and your tears,

General Hayes tastes like your pillow and you realize it was, in fact, your pillow,

Aurelius tastes like a clean mouth that is getting a bit too high in temperature and oh god his power is on- TURN IT OFF! TURN IT OFF!!

Farmer Dev tastes like those crisp root vegetables that have no implicit taste but are still classified as "green" tasting. Also peppermint- she chews a lot of it on the go.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s4 episode 7 thoughts

my very first thoughts: a CANCER MAN episode??? are we gonna get some backstory?? some CSM lore?!?!? 

part of me is deeply curious, but part of me also wants agent time, so… hmm! i’m intrigued. my curiosity? it’s been piqued.

and the lone gunmen have been mentioned!!

author's note: woah... i was expecting a lot of things, but cancer man being a flop author was not one of them. it's kinda sad, but mostly just pathetic.

judgement aside, i actually really liked this episode. there are things i would change, but i thought it was super intriguing to see certain parts of what is hidden beyond the curtain, but never enough to fully satisfy you, which i do love about this show (even if it is occasionally infuriating). the multi-part structure was also an interesting and unique choice that worked well, but i do have some... questions on writing/character motives and if they were well-received. but you'll see what i mean in a bit.

a lot happened in this episode, which i shall begin to recount below!

OH! we open with a shakespeare quote!!! “for nothing can seem foul to those that win” oooookay i suppose that is relevant to our ciggy man. damn. couldn’t be me. a lot of things are foul to me. such as killing melissa. 

we see a rat! a rat! cute little critter. oh. cancer man arrives, and is less cute. he's looking at some broken windows… damn, why is s4 so dark? i keep having to turn my brightness up. it's annoying!!

his lighter says “trust no one” omg… he’s so weird. just an overall strange fellow. seriously, who gets a custom lighter that says that? way to draw attention to yourself while trying to Not Do That.

so he’s opening a suitcase…. WHAT!! he is somehow listening to a bunch of conversations, including the “not everything is a dark labyrinth of conspiracy” one, which means he must have had bugs in all of the rooms where mulder and scully chat!!! who has time to sort through all of that audio content to find the juicy stuff?? probably his freak interns that i KNOW he keeps scattering about

okay, so he’s listening to a conversation now between the lone gunmen and mulder. frohike is freaked tf out, but mulder says no one would kill him because “you’re just a little puppy dog”. aww. that's a cute thing to say.

GAG!! the lone gunmen put on a special audio filter to hide their conversation, and CSM just pressed a button to totally ignore it, and turns to the camera with a smirk. EW! EW! creepy man. ugh, i can’t believe i paused and had to look at that awful creepy smirk for more than a few milliseconds.

oh my goodness, scully is also here during this conversation between the lone gunmen and mulder that we are listening to via CSM's technologically aided eavesdropping. frohike is saying he found stuff about cancer man, while cancer man loads what looks like a SNIPER RIFLE, and aims it out the window??? “what did you find?” “possibly everything”

GASP! i’m hooked. i DO want to know possibly everything. 

(watching the intro and that scene where they burst in with the gun always gets me, but today it’s making me ache in my chest because of how beautiful they are. so feel free to psychoanalyze that)

frohike is describing trotsky’s assassination. this is an area of history i am weak in, so i am seated for my lesson. it is actually entirely unrelated to the plot at hand, and is just some frohike nerd lore, but that's cool, i like a dude who knows these things.

frohike says “he” (presumably CSM) appears on august 20th, 1940, in louisiana. and his father was a communist activist, executed for espionage before his son would walk!!! and his mother died of lung cancer before he could talk!

damn. tragic backstory for this fellow. he pretty much said "i know cigarettes killed my mom but i'm different"

he was sent to various orphanages where he spent his time reading and not making friends. then he went off the grid until a year and a half after the Bay Of Pigs. weird way of measuring time- before and after the Bay of Pigs

OH! we get more text… “part 1: things really did go well in Dealey Plaza” hmmm....

some army men are jogging, while another dude reads the manchurian candidate, saying he would rather read the worst novel ever written than the best movie ever made. he must not know about the novels that are out there… i assume this is cig man?

OH MY GOD! he’s talking to MR. MULDER! wait, wait that means….

! MULDER LORE REVEAL ! his first word was JFK

that is... actually really adorable. and will make his toddler stage difficult as he has to break certain news to baby mulder.

why do i get the feeling, from the shaky way CSM just set the photo of mr. mulder’s wife and child down, that he is fighting suppressed romantic feelings for his buddy like the cold war depends on it? hmm....

these fancy looking men want to talk to the guy i assume is cancer man. they ask if he was involved in any of the big events from the early 1960’s, which he denies. you know, assassinations and whatnot.

oh! when they ask if his father was executed as a spy, he says his only regret is that “i was too young to throw the switch myself” which is kind of a crazy thing to say. "yes i never knew my dad but i wish it was me that killed him" is a wild hill to die on. but i guess this is what the 60's did to people.

OH! he also denies a cigarette when offered, saying he never touches them. well. some things went down between then and now, i assume. and hopefully, we shall gain a glimpse into what changed.

this general dude is yapping about extraordinary men and i assume he is referring to himself. and his father. and young CSM, too, can be an extraordinary man! 

“communism is without a doubt the most heinous personification of evil mankind has ever confronted” <- said by a guy who likely fought the nazis, this is an absolutely crazy line... but again, i guess that shows how deep everyone was into the propaganda

they are offering baby CSM a very important job… so important, his army service will be erased… he needs to assassinate an american civilian, former naval pt-boat commander…

OH MY GOD, DID HE KILL JFK???

this is wild. how many different characters across various medias have been responsible for killing JFK? does anyone have a spreadsheet? if not, DM me and let’s make one 

so what is the reason in universe for why JFK had to kick the bucket….

because of the bay of pigs failure??

i get it was bad, but i didn’t think it was THAT bad. that makes no sense though timeline wise… they said bay of pigs was “last week”, but that was 1961, and obviously he didn’t get shot until 1963. so are we expected to believe that they waited 2 years to kill him? 2 years in which a lot of stuff happened? or is this some sort of factual oversight i’m supposed to ignore. or am i misunderstanding the episode structure. did i mishear/read a line?

(digs my claws in) you guys i cannot ignore a JFK anachronism i’m sorry

and now we're off to texas to witness the inevitable. this dude playing lee harvey oswald is lowkey cute, a thing i never thought i would have typed more than a few minutes ago. CSM yells at him about how smoking is BAD!

baby cancer man is talking to lee harvey oswald (another wild sentence), telling him he’ll see the president today. he calls baby cig man “mr. hunt” which i assume is a fake name… and he lies and says he loves the movies!! how simply do the falsehoods slip from his tongue!

ooooookay i see what is going on here. “mr. hunt” is a member of a cuban loyalty group telling lee harvey oswald to hide some weapons. a fall guy is being carefully crafted.

and lee gives him his cigarettes… the same cigarettes baby cig man scolded him for smoking…. omg…. foreshadowing

you know, in all my years studying history, i have never imagined what the inside of the book depository building looked like. and OMG! in googling to try and see if this was an accurate representation, i learned that dealey plaza is where he was shot! so i guess i’m good with JFK lore, but bad at geography. but that answers what the whole opening quote was about.

baby cig man is getting in a sewer to do some crime… very eugene tooms of him. he's getting his gun out in the sewer for a sneak attack…. while lee gets a root beer… and it seems umbrella man was giving a signal on when to shoot! fascinating.

(jackie’s outfit that day looked less fuzzy irl than it appears in this episode, so please take note of that wardrobe people)

nah, this is gonna make me feel bad for a FAKE lee harvey oswald…

and while JFK was dying, baby cig man stayed in that sewer the whole time… wow. i feel like someone should have taken a peek.

soooo realizing he is a patsy, lee shoots a cop. which is actually just far more incriminating than had he done anything else. then he goes to the movies. where the cops find him. and baby cig man was watching all of this…. he pulls out a cigarette and starts smoking. OMG was that his first?? to cope with the Guilt?? damn.

it’s a bit of a ludicrous story that makes me giggle when i consider the real-world implications, but i will take it for what it is.

but back to modern cig man, listening to all of this being explained. he says nothing, seeming to confirm the accuracy of what is being said.

“part 2: just down the road from graceland”

no, don’t tell me he killed ELVIS, too?!?!?

wait, i read that wrong. “just down the road aways from graceland” okay, not sure if that clears anything up. but we hear the voice of martin luther king jr.

no… don’t tell me he killed HIM, too…..

notably, this whole part is in black and white. cigarette man is tap tapping on his typewriter. he’s writing a book! “take a chance: a jack colquitt adventure” <- sounds boring 

he’s listening to MLK talk about Marxist revolutions… is baby cig man a closet commie? no, for it appears he is deeply upset by these words!

he’s still in black and white, at a meeting about MLK, talking about how some claim he wishes to wage war against white america. baby cig man says “wouldn’t you?”, and i begin to wonder if he is based, but these hopes are quickly dampened as he explains that MLK's existence and activism are no longer civil rights issues… because he said something about communism. bro. what. is this how people actually felt…?

(you read about the paranoia and the terror of the red scare, but seeing an attempt at putting it in context still makes you think damn, times were weird)

this council is now talking about how they can best discredit MLK, and we see a guy who is blamed for the “there is but one way out for you” letter, which baby cig man says is stupid. oh, he blamed the director of the FBI for that. damn!

cigarette man says we need another patsy, and to make it a white man, so “it” (referring to king’s assassination) looks racially motivated. and oh! he says he’ll do it himself.

“i have too much respect for the man” <- so you’re gonna be the one that kills him? bro… what. we don't usually kill the people we look up to where i come from.

so. cig man lights up as he stands outside a building where MLK speaks. 

AND HE PULLS OUT THE PHOTO OF BABY MULDER AND HIS MOM???? WHAT THE FUCK

(is this like a “he’s grieving because his work demands that he never has a family” kind of thing or a “he’s longing for the embrace of mr. mulder” kinda thing….? does he love mrs. mulder….? what is this….)

cancer man gives the dude he’s framing a couple hundred dollars. and then gets in the bushes behind where dr. king is staying. i'm still processing the photo reveal.

and bam.

wow, i feel that this is… weird. idk, the whole “this character killed JFK” thing has been going on for so long that it doesn’t really feel that shocking, but dr. king’s death is a tragedy in a different way, and i’m not sure that using it in fiction is like, super appropriate? um.

while i am unsure if i feel that using a civil rights leader's assassination in your alien story is something we should brush past, i do understand what the writers are attempting to do here, which is show how dedicated to the anti-communist cause cig man is, and how he'll stop at nothing to do what he deems needed, no matter how ugly or horrific. i recognize what they are trying to tell me.

LMAOOOO WAIT. place my moral pondering aside for a brief second. if you pause, you can read the rejection letter baby cig man gets for his book. “my advice? burn it!” <- DAMN that book must have been god awful 😭

oh god. now the TV is mentioning RFK… don’t tell me cig man did that, too…

(author's note: thankfully, he was not involved with the killing of this kennedy brother; no clear statement on whether or not he was responsible for ted's whole thing)

AND WHY was cig man putting that photo of mrs. and baby mulder in his drawer…?!?!

cig man seems to be almost crying while quoting aeschylus along with RFK on the tv, as he speaks about the grief of losing both his brother and MLK…. damn. am i supposed to feel bad for CSM? because i don’t. 

back to modern cancer man. we now enter “part 3, the most wonderful time of the year”.

jump to 1991. he has saddam hussein on the phone?? and tells him to call back. and some other dude is working on the oscar noms LMAO wait... i lowkey love the idea that the government controls those... need to think what that would imply for every single winner ever

AND he rigs the superbowl so the bills don’t win LMAO what is his beef with buffalo?! AND he rigged the olympic hockey game in ‘80?

we’re getting the impression he kinda controls everything. message received loud and clear.

OH! now they’re talking about mulder… “that ‘spooky’ kid”, is how they refer to him. and CSM says that mulder is his to keep an eye on. i'm sure that's part of his decades long plot, to keep mulder under his watchful eye and use him as a pawn in his schemes. also, gorbachev has just resigned. no more enemies to fight.

and CSM gives his men some presents for christmas. how thoughtful…..? 

his men invite him to come with them to virginia for a family get together. damn, they like this guy? it seems they honestly do!

he got them all ties…. very strange fellow he is.

okay, so he lied and said he had to go see family to escape the gathering. and then ominously walks outside mulder’s office door. dun dun DUN!

he has some mail… and opens it to see something that displeases him. THEN HE STARTS WRITING AGAIN!! it seems like auto fiction, when you write about yourself but pretend it’s happening to a character. damn. crazy coping mechanism. good to know that he is kinda a loser all around. 

so, some days he longs for a second chance. okay, yeah, we all do cancer man, and most of us didn’t kill JFK.

the phone rings. it’s DEEP THROAT! my old friend!! were they tight?!

it seems that on christmas eve of 1991 was when a weird alien spaceship arrived to earth. and the occupant is in “critical condition”. also, deep throat mentions the UFO he had claimed to see before in vietnam, so we know he wasn’t lying entirely about that.

they have this fleshy pink alien hooked up to life support, which has me wondering how alien life support works, and also how many types of aliens we are dealing with in this universe. but i’ve mentioned that before. still! worth mentioning again!

lore reveal that is unsettling... DEEP THROAT’S NAME IS RONALD???? 

idk, i was expecting something like abernathy or shackleton or cromswell!

deep throat gives cigarette man the gun to handle the alien situation- but CSM protests, saying that a “living EBE” could advance bill mulder’s project by decades!!! MR. MULDER MENTIONED?!? he'd be willing to break protocol to help his buddy out?!?

but no, deep throat recites the rules from the security council resolution, which makes him remember what they came here to do.

can you just… shoot an alien??? to kill it? well. you can shoot some of them to kill them, but not the kind that need the special neck stabbing device. okay, keeping track of all this, just seems like maybe all aliens would need something a bit cooler to vanquish them.

they’re fighting over killing an alien…. cig man doesn’t want to do it, so he tosses a coin. so he makes deep throat do it?!?! deep throat says that this is their new enemy. honestly, the sad little alien does not look like he can hurt you, but okay.

(i mean, do they really need the gun? he’s an alien on life support, just pull the plug)

oh…. cig man rips the bandage off his neck as deep throat climbs into some gear to… gas the alien? now what is the significance of this bandage that has been on his neck but ONLY for part three of the story?

that alien is creepy. deep throat really does shoot the damn thing. and cig man lights up while this goes down. is every cigarette one dude he killed….? damn. that’s like 5 packs a day….

“part 4: the x-files”

OOOO, info on scully being brought in!!!

OMG!!! we see parts of her thesis.

did we know she went to the university of maryland? well, i didnt, so that counts as a…

! SCULLY LORE REVEAL ! she graduated from the university of maryland in 1986!

(looking back, i realize this was all flashback stuff from the pilot. but i didn't KNOW at the time that this show would do such things to me, so i wasn't taking detailed notes! wow! how much has changed)

but it’s cancer man reading her thesis. stay away from her!

okay, now we’re back to one of the earliest times we ever saw scully, in her pilot episode fit. and was cig man actually there in the pilot? i think he was, right?

aww, we get to relive the “FBI’s most unwanted” moment through cancer man’s listening. it’s creepy, but still a heartwarming time.

back to the modern day- frohike is talking about how cancer man is “the most dangerous man alive”, because he believes these actions are all that life allows him, and he can never escape himself. damn. that’s deep.

and then back to the 1991 christmas eve scene… an editor loved CSM's book! he used the pen name “raul bloodworth”… have we heard that before? well, i’ll keep an eye out on various shelves. so he calls the number they gave him… he is desperate for validation… and he’s going on about how he wants the cover to look. there’s a cutting comment about “working with young authors”, and the publisher says he’ll have to “relinquish some control”. and cancer man is SO excited.

oh my gosh… wait, why am i lowkey emotional now? but that emotion is very specifically second hand embarrassment.

so he’s typing his RESIGNATION LETTER?? for the day the story gets published. for some reason he thinks that getting one story published = a life of steady income. HAH! if only.

he even takes a wistful look at his cigarettes and crushes them in his hand!!! wow, a time to begin again.

lmao i see a reference to darin morgan in the background magazines… do not think you are slick, props team!

CSM’s going to go pick up his story from a newspaper… and his story was published in a porno… and they changed his ending… 

this is NOT a good thing omg

and the newspaper salesman says that the magazine is garbage…

we just watched his dreams die in real time. and with the magazine, he buys another pack of cigarettes. damn. no chance for a new life, i guess. 

CSM’s now monologing about how life is like a box of chocolates (disappointing), and this is an interesting juxtaposition, because he is next to a man who is digging through garbage while he says all this, so clearly his material status could be a lot worse but it’s probably a mental prison, being rich and important and also sad.

Frohike clarifies that this CSM theory is based on a story he read, but he’s going to check with some hackers. as frohike walks out the door, cancer man mumbles that he can kill him whenever he pleases, but chooses not to do so today. 

woah… very different, but i actually really liked this episode!

i liked getting a peek into the mystical lore surrounding CSM, but also it wasn’t THAT much of a peek, you know? we know a few of the things he did, and that he did them in the name of fighting communism. i guess when he thought that communism was “defeated” they switched to aliens, but also aliens had to be there the whole time, because they did make the agreement about it after ww2. so he’s been up to a lot of stuff.

do i feel a little bad that he can’t get his writing published? yeah, but like i said in a “it’s cringey” kinda way, which i think was the intention. it’s funny that he has amassed all this power but is still a flop. 

like i said, i feel weird about the whole MLK thing. i think the coloring going black and white was to illustrate CSM's black and white thinking, about how you are either right or wrong, and to be wrong requires punishment, no matter what anyone else says on the matter. that was interesting.

hmm, i'm pondering. what will happen next to our smoky- well, i was going to say "our smoky friend", but we are not friends at all, are we? where will our tobacco-filled creep lead us?

i liked this one! it was really different from the traditional episode structure, so it felt special and nice. i liked getting an idea of his line of work and how he got involved with it and why, even if the killing post-Bay of Pigs thing was weird, but i GUESS it did bring the soviets and cuba closer together, so i GUESS if you thought anything that advanced communism had to be avenged, you would think that is a logical conclusion.

hmm, i can't afford to try and figure out who actually did it IRL! too much on my plate. it's an interesting theory... i shall have to give it a long contemplation.

[plasticfangtastic]

Cozy Corner Domaystic

Prompts– 30. Doing the dishes, 11. Unexpected gift– sort of, alt. prompt ‘Oh what is this?’

Lemon Scented Mess

A Butchie fanfic

Tags: light smut, takes places between s3/s4 so spoilers for s3/s4, cheating, vers Butcher, vers Hughie, both r bi, depressive.

word count: 3.9K

A/N: apply just porn logic to this fic, could not for the life of me find a gif of Butcher's ass... 1st time writing a Butchie fic so am sorry if this feels butchlander for some reason.

Is an odd sense of responsibility that keeps him here– since they met that night at the electronic store he’s been bound to Butcher, following him like a starved dog craving his endless attention unconsciously… his approval and praise… Butcher was this larger than life figure. Everywhere he walked he pulled everything with his own magnetic field, violently changing everything to suit him.

Hughie had sunk and disappointed the ghost of his grandparents with all he’s done– all he’s done to impress this Englishman… even if he’d never said it outloud.

Annie would chastise him for going so far to impress this bastard all the time, which he would vehemently deny at every turn as he continue lying to himself, it had begun to leave their relationship in tethers and frankly he was doing this to avoid couples therapy… Worse was that he was the one who suggested it in the first place. So instead of doing that– he was helping Butcher do his laundry.

Some days he wished he had never brought over a weekend bag– between the medication and  the side-effects medication, the excessive smoking and drinking, the quirks and general crudeness Butcher wasn’t an easy roommate much less patient… unbearable was the better word, on the good days he was back to his gruff usual self which was well… Billy.

Hughie woke up with a sore back, sleeping on Butcher’s sofa wasn’t completely terrible, it was just too small for him, Butcher had casually suggested buying a fold-out couch for Hughie and if his back ache any harder he might take in his offer but in the meantime he didn’t want Butcher to worry for him when there was so much on their plate already. 

As he hopped off the sofa his feet move on their own heading straight to the kitchen before he can even take a piss, he has to force Butcher to take his medication if not he’ll grind it into his tea, it feels as if he’s medicating a stubborn dog, but its now just routine for him, but he doesn’t have to do a thing this morning-- Butcher’s already in the kitchen, his teeth loudly grinding on his pills as he groans at the bitter taste before washing it down with chamomile then washing that away with what’s left of the ciggy in his hands.

Not that Hughie is really paying attention to his unhealthy breakfast for all he’s trying to ignore is the nudity.

One thing he’s learned since forcing himself to live with Butcher… is that the man refused to change his ways, he slept bare– no matter how cold he got, he just added another throw blanket or raised the thermostat.

At first it made him uncomfortable, made him squeal like an embarrassed teenage girl but now he had to hide his prolonged peeking.

As Butcher paraded himself out the kitchen, hughie had to do everything in his power to subdue the moan caught in his throat as he caught a closer glimpse of that thick veiny cock, Butcher was unfairly endowed, everything about him was unfair, sick and dying but he didn’t skip a workout, still looking strong despite a tumor in his brain– broad shoulders, hung, gruff hands and hairy chest… the complete opposite of himself, it made him feel more inadequate than envious… and terribly horny too.

He was unlike any man he’s met before, certainly nothing like his father or his old friends… he was crude machismo with an accent.

He wondered if they were going to do anything today, he’d already blew off his doctor’s appointment yesterday, he’s visited his aunt and his dog earlier this week, and he’s done their groceries already, work had been done and he’s only home today because he’s been puking all day yesterday from the dizziness.

“How are you feeling today?” he says loudly as he serves himself some tea.

“Like I’m dying. Just not feeling it today…” Butcher ties his gray sweatpants loosely around his hips as he comes back from his bedroom– You could go see your lady, I’ll be alright.”

“You forgot she left for Chicago yesterday, she’s doing that charity thing she told you about– so Annie won’t be back till wednesday.” He gulps as Butcher slumps on the couch, wrapping himself on Hughie’s blanket– I’ll call her later…”

Butcher raises his eyebrow but says nothing as he grabs the remote control.

“Oh… well I’m going to finally start watching Bridgerton so you’re free to join me!” he says with disappointment– we can cuddle.” his shit eating grin is more annoying than usual.

“I’ll pass… the cuddling that’s it.”

Hughie can’t say he wants to watch it but he doesn’t quite want to leave Butcher either… he’s not sure where it began, when did he started devouring him in his mind, he’s always been improper with him, saying things that would give a nun a stroke, they shared a lot together, poisoned and tainted their souls together, nearly died by each other sides as much as they’ve fought one another– it made them close… now instead watching some posh drama with a miserable old man, he’s ogling him… those weird remarks now stuck to him, deep down he knows is probably this sense of dreadful captivity driving him mad, sharing his space, sharing everything from plates to towels… making the older man dependant on him as he was too much of a brute to stick to his regime, it felt good to make that stubborn man do as he’s told, it felt good to force Butcher to appreciate him.

He finds him too relaxed, too vulnerable– he can’t forget that he was stroking his cock underneath that blanket a few hours ago thinking of those rough hands squeezing his neck after too many brews, his sluggish words hidden behind a thickened accent, his body pressed so tightly against him all he can focus is his scent, the spicy sweetness of his skin, the strong aroma of tobacco staining his fingers and whisky souring his lips, of the thought of those plump lips doing more than curse.

Sometimes Hughie thinks that he’s still high on temp V, that that poison damaged his brain in ways the doctor’s had missed.

For that’s the only excuse he gives himself when he wakes up from his trance, staring at the happy trail peeking from those loose gray trousers, at the shape of his cock as it lays defendless.

He squeezes his legs, pretending he’s being pushed away by Butcher selfishly taking all the space, his ears heating up as he accepts his losing battle of wills against his own penis, he jerks off every night but is not enough… ever since that disastrous battle against Soldier Boy back in the tower, him and Annie had been in a slump, sexb was out of the question, at most they gave each other head but it wasn’t enough, did he missed her so much (her body at least) he now projected his pent-up desires to the next domineering person in his life.

Butcher briefly looked away from the screen as he sensed the weight shift throughout the cushions, looking down catching those long legs squeeze, snickering at the sight, counting the minutes before the young lad runs to the bathroom and disappears for ten minutes or so, looking down to hide the blush on his cheeks as ifs not painted on his ears. 

Rubbing his feet against the younger man’s thigh, teasing him knowing he’s pent up and frustrated, his mind going places that he knows he shouldn’t– Billy just doesn’t care anymore, there’s a timer above him running out of sand afterall. William knows that it’s wrong to cross the line, he knew the moment he stopped seeing Lenny on his skin, the moment he stopped being his canarie as the others so sweetly put it– the first time he stood up to him, that he wanted him.

It gave him a rush, he wanted to break the boy once more, subdue him, he liked the obedient pretty boy who unspokenly wished to please him, to gain his approval but who still had a spark inside him.

Yet as his clock ran out of sand, a part of him… as sick as it was wanted to leave him scarred with himself.

Blurred lines, confusing flirtations hidden behind jokes, touches that lingered a second too long were his weapon of choice.

As the younger man excused himself, moving quickly to hide that throbbing boner, Butcher waits until the lock clicks before milking himself.

Mouth parting as soft gasps hide themselves behind his sheet, huffing the boy’s shampoo, his perfume coating him, as women bicker in the back his mind plays an x-rated film… poor little Hughie spreading himself, glistening fingers, pre-cum spilling down his thin thighs, his heaving chest, mewling after him, biting his lips so hard they’re left purple as Butcher leaves handprints on each cheek.

He cums before his own fantasy self even gets to cum, he would complain but he knows he doesn’t have a lot of time before Hughie’s done so he rushes to the kitchen to wash his hand.

In the Bathroom is the same scene yet it looks more desperate, his movie more unrealistic.

Hughie hands pulling on those raven locks, pushing the man down his length, nails clawing down his thighs as he chokes on his cum… Hughie moans into his chest, as his own fantasy gives him a shit eating grin, his Butcher letting his thick seed gloss his plump lips, playful licks as he washes the umami off him, crying for more, demanding Hughie roughens him more

He needs to leave the house is his first clear thought.

He needs to go get laid for real before he finds himself doing something his and Annie’s therapist won’t be able to amend.

He could never tell Annie any of these fantasies, but even in the dead of night when the only sound is that of the city around him, her face fades and it is him that consumes him.

He bets he tastes salty and tarty, he bets he’s strong and mainly in a way he could never achieve, in a way that most girls would find icky but that will get him called a faggot by the older man for enjoying.

As he flushes the paper trail, he looks at the cheapest plane ticket to Chicago on his phone, he should go surprise Annie, bringing peace offerings and pray to any listening God that Annie will fuck him… and to the gods who aren’t listening that they will stop him from muttering ‘Billy’ as he makes a mess of himself.

Butcher chucks his phone aside as Hughie comes back from the restroom.

“I ordered some chinese.” He says quietly– Marina got a proposal… quite a salacious offer in my opinion.”

“Oh…” Hughie couldn’t point out Marina in a line-up even if there was a gun to his head– that’s cool… cool.”

“You okay lad? Do I’ve got to call the plumber or sum’thing?” He jokes– just looking a little flustered there, luv.”

“I’m good!” His eyes widened– just glad you’re eating something today, barely got you to keep the soup last night.”

“I think I gotta tell the doc to change my meds…”

“Or maybe we shouldn’t be self-medicating with ketamine and god knows what else” he grumbles.

“Okay mom.”

He at least begins to pay attention to the drama happening to these siblings, he’s sure that Annie would like this show which makes him feel more guilty than jerking off to somebody else.

Food arrives and he knows this is too much food but at least the man seems to be eating without problem.

He would’ve relaxed and calmed down had he not played him so dirty, as they pack their leftovers Butcher offers to wash the dishes, last night’s plates and half drunk teacups still in the small sink.

Water splashing down his stomach, lemon scented foam slides down his forearms, making a lemon scented mess of foam all over the sink edges, he’s needlessly messy, and Hughie can’t stop biting his lip as he sees the wet line on the edge of his sweatpants.

Butcher turns drying his hands on his sides.

Pants soaked, and he thinks he’s funny when he starts pulling on the elastic, showing more of that thick bush concealed inside it.

“I should probably take these off.”

“Please…” His voice is a whimper.

Eyes shot open when he notices he’s thought out loud, he might as well go pick up his plot and suit, his heart is racing so hard and loud he wouldn’t be shocked to learn that Butcher can hear it too.

Butcher doesn’t look horrified in the least, his mouth drops for a second before it turns into a predatory smile, he can see malice in his eyes as he takes a few steps closer, the kitchen too small for the both of them, so close he can feel the heat coming from his chest, he’s seen this grin before and it usually came coated in blood, their feet dance until Hughie is trapped between him and the counters.

Even if the disease had weakened him, he still grabs his wrist with violent strength, ‘he could break his wrist clean’ the panicked voices in his head shout as calloused fingers pull him closer.

“Please, what?” He says with a deep growl.

“...Billy?” he squinted his face not knowing what to do.

“All I can think of right now is ‘Oh what's this?’” He whispers.

Hughie looked down, his own body had betrayed him, the tent in his pants spoke a million words.

“So… what is going on?” He leaned closer, absorbing the gap– did puberty just hit ya?”

His forearm is muscular and veiny, it makes him look dainty by comparison, he gulps as he feels those rugged hands tug at his erection– he knows it's over at this point. 

This felt like a porno, like one of his pubescent fantasies like the ones he had with his algebra teacher where he would pin him to his desk and jerk him off, the kind that sprung to mind every time Mr. Sinclair bend over while wearing those tight khakis that were just the wrong size but it didn’t matter ‘cuz it let Hughie see everything in peace but this isn’t Mr. Sinclair hand tugging at his cock… this is his friend… his boss… the guy he should be running away from.

But he doesn’t he’s jerking his hips following the rhythm of the man as he mocks him, he coos, and says dirty insults into his ears, mocking him for leaking like a bitch, chuckling into his neck petting the stain building up at the tip of his tented pajamas.

Butcher was just teasing him but now he’s fully committed to fucking him up.

He wanted to ruin the young man.

He wants him to remember him until his last breath either as a blissful memory or a horror story.

Dying had him thinking wrong.

Made worse by how little Hughie was resisting, watching the boy biting his lips trying to suppress his moans as he squeezed just a little harder, crumbling under his lip as he whispers in his ears.

“Tell me what you want Hughie.” His voice is gentle, almost needy– tell daddy what nasty little things are in yer mind.”

Hughie hands crawl into Butcher’s chest squeezing at his pecs.

“Blow me.”

“No, ‘pretty please’?”

“Sluts don’t deserve manners.”

His hand does fit perfectly around his neck, Hughie learns. Butcher can only but let out a dry chuckle as he sees the determination on the young man, he’s seen this fire before is the same flame that left third degree burns on his ego in the past.

Butcher licks his lips, his hand leave that crying cock before yanking the man’s pants in one drop, Hughie eyes open wide as his stomach sinks and realizes that Butcher is on his knees, before he can make an apology or command, Butcher tongue draws circles on his blushing tip, long strokes drink his precum clean.

His blood runs cold then boils, his whole body burns so high it hurts in the best way possible, as he feels the inside of that mouth.

Butcher sucks with so much force he could’ve sworn he’s stuck his prick on a vacuum cleaner, he’s drooling as the man sucks him with desperation and need, filthy wet sounds echo across the kitchen, toes curling as he looks down at those darkened eyes– glee and delight as Hughie can’t help himself from moaning louder than Butcher ever could, he’s a vocal boy, Butcher learns. His hand finally find a tuft of hair to pull, forcing Butcher to follow his direction, his other hand under his shirt squeezing at his nipple, Butcher’s spare hand is busy teasing Hughie’s skin, his nails sharp– stroking the tender trembling flesh, squeezing his ass until he knows he’ll leave a bruise.

Slapping the hardened cock on his lips, his smile is more scary than sensual, like he knows he can make him cry if he wanted to.

“I’ll let you cum if you remember your manners, you skinny poof.” His fingers had made a knot at the base of his cock, he gingerly kissed the tip, a playful tease that Hughie can’t fight, he knows he’s at his limit and so does Butcher as he kisses those heavy balls.

Bringing them into the warmth of his mouth as he denies all attention to his member, his tongue swaying side to side, before letting go with a loud pop.

“Oh God! Oh God please William!!”

“What no begging?”

“Fuck you!”

Butcher laughs before choking, Hughie quickly pulls on Butcher’s hair as his mouth gapes to let out a wince, Hughie sticks himself inside it, letting out a loud moan as he feels the warmth again, both hands keep Butcher’s head in place as he turns him into a sleeve, Butcher’s hands growing limp as he just accepts his fate, he’s a trance, a calm wash away him as the young man uses him, a warmth washes over him, he wants Hughie to touch him more, he likes that odd pleasurable feeling everytime his thumb rubs his ears, he likes hearing him grunt as he moans Butcher’s name, going back and forth between ‘William’ and ‘Billy’, it makes his cock tingle.

It comes as a surprise when it rains inside his mouth, its light, the taste slightly sharp, his legs trembling around Butcher, he bucks a few times making sure to leave it all inside Butcher, enjoying every second as his throat clasp around his member.

He looks down as sanity leaves the building so he can admire his work.

Glistening trails connect them, Butcher looks satiated his neck craning as it chases after him, as he pants with exhaustion, Hughie freezes as his tongue touches him again, wanting to clean him not leaving a trace of evidence, making sure he’s taken all that delicious treat for himself.

“I’m going to kill you.” He says as he licks his lip cleans.

“...”

Next thing he knows, he’s been picked up like a potato sack towards the bedroom, the frame almost giving up as he throws him into the firm mattress.

In this light he can see those muscles clearly, that firm body of him hovering on top of him as it rips his shirt off, tearing it without caring it was new, that flushed hairy chest dripping sweat into him, Hughie whines as Butcher tugs on his hair, he never expected to kiss him for the first time after he’d sucked him off first, the rough kiss that gnaws at his lips, that forces its way into his mouth, exploring it eagerly and hungrily, grows needier and softer as Hughie reciprocates, his arms wrapped around broad shoulders, trembling as hardened nubs rub against each other, Hughie kisses like he’s in a romance movie for chicks, moaning against his lips every time Butcher’s hands explore more of him, letting out the sweetest sounds as those sharp nails slide across him, their eyes shut for the most part, just wanting to enjoy the feeling of each other’s bodies, their heat and how amazing it feels to finally give in.

Kissing until jaws are sore but they won’t stop, grindign againts each other until they have to stop just to address the thick puddle in-between them.

“I don’t think we can… y’know go… the whole way…” Hughie sounds apologetic and angry at the same time– I dunno…”

“Is okay, we can do something else” he says softly.

He kisses the younger man’s chin, chewing on his skin leaving hickeys on his neck.

Hughie watchest attentively as the man leaves him for a moment as he takes a large bottle of lube from the side table, flicking the lid open before flipping Hughie around.

“Lift your ass for me baby.” He does as he’s told– damm… who taught youse to arch your back like that? I should send him a christmas card… ” He chuckles lightly.

“What are you gonna do?” He says nervously but equally excited.

“Shhh… just enjoy yourself and follow my lead.” 

He squeezes Hughie’s thight’s together, before letting the warm liquid drizzle onto his behind, smiling as he spasm, fingers spreading the lub where it needs to go, teasing his entrance, slick coated fingers dancing across the sensitive skin, drawing esoteric shapes letting the warming lube take a peek inside him, he slathers more in between his thighs and Hughie finally figures what Butcher’s doing when he feels that thick veiny thing rub it's wet tip against his entrance, spreading his boy pussy, kissing him, teasing holy communion, Butcher inhales sharply trying to control himself, hungry to enter him but he will begrudgingly respect him, spreading some lube on his shaft before lowering the tip.

He fucks the gap, his cock leaking onto Butcher’s as it rubs him, as he feels the agonzing tease of being fucked but he’s not fucking him where he wants the most, he feels shame for enjoying this… he wants Butcher to fuck him for real, not to tie his hand around their cocks, the adrenaline is not enough, is simply not enough.

With each rough trust he becomes painfully aware of just the way he’s not being wrecked.

Arching his back more so he can kiss him better, their bodies glued together, as his arm hook themselves around Butcher’s neck.

“You won! please… please fuck me.”

“Who's the slut now?”

“Me! I get it am your slut now fuck me Butcher!” He’s cute when he’s angry, Butcher thinks– geez…”

Hughie is left running out of breath, he has no idea when he found himself bouncing on his cock while the man just soaked the view, Butcher bucking his hips whenever he felt like it, or fucking him mercilessly, he’s cum three times already but he can’t stop his hips, Butcher just teases him in a way that no other man has, the way he bites on his chest, all those awful names he calls him in between passionate kisses, that terribly excite him.

Tender kisses as they both grow tired, as Butcher cums inside him leaving him full.

“I’ll let you have a round with me later…” 

Hughie looks up as his body collapses beside him, not understanding the proposition at first.

He looks exhausted but happy, there’s a softness in his expression that Hughie has never witnessed before, Butcher plays with Hughie’s hair as the twink plays with the other’s hairy chest.

It begins as a secret game, neither of them speak a word to the others, not out of fear but because it was theirs, all they offer is the same boring thing, even when he sneaks his hand inside Butcher’s pants to squeeze at his ass, spreading him by tugging at the base of the beads, teasing him as the others turn their backs to them at the office.

Both enjoy the twisted thrill of what’s going on between them.

[numbaoneflaya]

Heres my oc question for ALL OF THEM (or like realistically as many as u want to do): what is their immediate course of action in the week following a hypothetical break up

Oooooh this is such a good questionnnnn oughhh….

Jilly: in her current relationship she’d be dead before there was a breakup. Bcs either hed kill her or she’d kill herself to get back at him for it. Or it just ends up in a horrible emotional fight and they kill each other.

Ciggy: Drinking binge! Shots everybody! Pays for everyone’s drinks on his credit card he already owes 700 dollars on. Who wants to fuck? He’ll fuck anything that moves. Sex and drugs and alcohol. Booze and self Indulgence and snorting whatever he has to to stop his feelings. Will still end up crying in the bathroom at the club in between vomiting.

Mike: (said 12 minutes after pulling their own hair out hard enough to give Themselves a bald spot and bashing their skull into a wall until they pass out with brain damage) so cool about it actually. Doesn’t even care in the slightest. Has never been cooler about anything actually. The murder count going up 600% afterward has nothing to do with this.

Sarge: awwwwe man :(((( really? That’s too bad. Call him when you inevitably end up changing your mind.

Kilaine: hilarious to think you can break up with her. You’re funny but she appreciates a sense of humor. Get back on the vivisection table

[tiedankelstotheocean]

Man Suang Live Reaction

HEAVY SPOILER ALERTS!!!

That creepy guy from the beginning I'm kinda glad he's dead.

Wan you poor dumb boy why did you pull the knife

The intro song is epic

Damn Be on Cloud can you say Production Value!! The extras and the market sets!

Yo looser your creep nephew wasn't killed by them.

TTTTOOOONNNNGGG!! Looking fine baby that opium pipe is beautiful.

Poor Wan I want to give him a hug.

Ohh that reaction is Wan related to the Chinese gangsters.

Again Production value come through!

God even laying there Apo is beautiful.

That scene was a tad overacted.

MIIIILLEEEE or should I say.... CHATRA!!

Kitty!!!😻 Also Mile is beautiful

The dance teacher is so pretty

Oooh I see Chatra is interested... A self-trained dancer

Sir you're supposed to be undercover what see you fighting?

Tong look at you. I need him to play more serious dramas, look at him he's so elegant.

So Tong is Khun Hong.

I like the lord he's quietly menacing. Though leave Khem alone.

Ouch!

Pretty!!!

Look at him dance.

Right Miss pretty teach he's wonderful

Go Chatra with the drums.

You know they said Chatra acts sort if regal what if he's related to prince in some way. Maybe he's the prince?

Yay the official dance

PING!!

Hey the other dancer is pretty.

Yes Lord be smitten

Yeah baby boy you can do as you please. Shes right and you're undercover again!!!

Oh why are there so many creeps around our pretty boy??

Kitty, cheer him up.

Oh my god it's happening!!

You did a good job today 😭

You did a good job again 😭😭😭😭

You know for now hit him (but don't you're undercover)

Yes no whoreophobia in this house

Oh you didn't just hit Wan that's my child. Fuck them up.

Yes Chatra!!

Miss teach make them walk through coals.

Oh look it's our boys.. So cute

He is charming right.

Ok who the fuck is in charge of this translation copulate, bollocks? Even for someone who spent 6 years in Scotland it's a bit eh.

Okay Chatra is definitely important

Okay this scene is cute but the pacing feels a tad off.

Ok we're back the pacing feels right again cute but I'd have shortened the scene and skipped to this part.

Yeah I loved this scene if have played the other scene with the treasure a lot more serious

Okay Chatra might not be trusted.

Oh I have the same coffee shot cups. They're great for Ethiopian brew.

Investigation time

Oh my god well that's a gruesome way to go.do we think Khun Hong is behind this?

Yeah now he isnt!

Poor Wan

Okay I want Bas to play a very serious drama I mean breakbreak and crying serious.

Poor wan again dude please calm down

ping!

Oh no Wan.

But seriously I want Bas in a serious drama Make it happen BOC give him something to cry in.

Also why Wan what about Khem?

You know nothing Khun Heng!

BOC give Tong the Leading man status.

Noooooooo Khun Hong!!!!

Khun Hong 😭😭😭😭.

Chatra!! What the fuck?????????

Goddamn Chatra!

I mean you couldn't have said that before pulling a gun on him??

Oh god no.

Yeah Wens gonna loose it.

Tiang you bitch I know you're somehow involved in this.

I really like the villain I want to see him in more things.

Okay Tiang may not be as involved as I thought but he's still a bitch that killed his brother (and father).

TOOOOOONNNNNGG. Yes baby girl!

But that looser ass bitch up.

Yes plans plans baby

Yeah great fight a tab over acted again (some strange director decisions here).

Wan, please don't betray Khem both sides are shit here.

Apoo god he's so pretty here.

Way to make an entrance baby.

Yeah the rose is hitting me hard now

Are you sure that the ciggies aren't laced with opium? Wan seems to loose it whenever he smokes

Yes Tong for the drama!!!!!

Oh no Wan please.

Hahahhaba that superhero ass battle stations pose.wtf was that?

Ok mr overactor. Tiang pleasr leave.

Ahh the one-handed gun operation I lothe well comeback.

Not Hong leave Wan be!

No wan I want to give him a hug 😭😭😭😭😭

Waaaaaan.....noooooooooooo

And a happy ending was had (for some baby boy wan well)

Well I am to drunk to write more so lookout got my final thoughts and writing tomorrow but I'll leave you with that Bas surprised me the most and I want more of him!!!

Night everyone

[obetrolncocktails]

Karma Sutra | Sam Kiszka X Reader | Part 1

Warnings: In this chapter-slut shaming, objectifying women, use of alcohol. This series will include 18+ content. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 2.2K

A/N: This series is one of the first that I put out. It has been left incomplete for quite a while. I felt that it needed some updating and reworking, but it is one of my favorite plot archs...so get ready. There will be fluff, smut, and a WHOLE lot of angst, so pull up your panties and get ready.

Summary: Chasing after the boy who is easily known as one of the sexiest and cockiest on campus...what could go wrong?

You felt eyes on you as you walked across the quad between classes. For what reason, you couldn’t place, but you knew that you were being watched. Peering across the quad, eyes flitting in all directions, you attempted to find the source of your insecurity. Nothing. You bundled yourself tighter within the thickness of your peacoat, shielding yourself from the blustery December cold. Making your way under an awning, you smelled the familiar odor of cigarette smoke. It wafted in your direction, beckoning for you to turn your gaze upward. Ugh. Of-fucking-course. Sam douche-bag-extraordinaire Kiszka. “Cold as fuck out here,” he said, puffing out O-rings of smoke from the side of his mouth. 

“Mm, so you decide to step out in twenty-four degree weather to smoke a ciggy?” You spat sarcastically. 

 “Bad habit, sweetheart. You know what they say…they die hard.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes and kept walking away from him. “There’s a party on the row tonight–you coming?” your eyebrows furrow instantly, turning to meet his gaze. 

“I haven’t been to a frat party in over a year, Sam. Why would I?” He threw his hands in the air, shrugging. His cigarette remained burning between two fingers, dropping ashes every few seconds to the ground. “Just thought it might be nice to see a refreshing face for once.” 

What the fuck? Why was Sam taking sudden interest in me? “I gotta make it to class. See you around.” You waved him off and continued walking to class. 

“Hey, Y/N, for old-time’s-sake, it really would be nice to see you there.” His eyes were the color of chocolate, which was ironic. His beauty could melt any girl on campus just like the confection–except for you. You would always be the exception.

“Bye, Samuel.”

Samuel. He liked that. He bit at the corner of his lip, his eyes following you as you disappeared within the halls. Mm, I’ll save her for later. Blowing out the last puff of smoke, he stubbed out his cigarette against the brick wall, dropping it carelessly to the ground before strolling away to the next entertaining encounter. 

***

Philosophy class soon turned into Philo-so-fucking-boring class extremely fast. Your mind wandered from the lecture, unable to focus. Why the fuck was he watching me? The truth that you wouldn’t even admit to yourself was that you had feelings for Sam, and had since freshman year. They had remained in the recesses of your mind ever since. For one, he was an asshole. You and almost every girl on campus knew it; however, some part of you would always have a soft spot for him, no matter how cocky he was. He just didn’t know it, and you sure as hell wouldn’t show it either. Fuck that red turtleneck sweater. Why did he have to look so good in it? You caught yourself doodling random hearts and sparkles in the margins of your notes as you thought about him. 

“Pssst, hey.” Your best friend, Paige jabbed you from behind with the top of her pen. “Pay attention, there’s going to be an exam tomorrow.” Your hands flew to cover your notebook from her view. “What are you hiding?” She whispered, curious as to why you were being so secretive. 

“It’s nothing, just drawings.” You realized a little bit too late that mere drawings wouldn’t have elicited such a reaction.

 “Doesn’t seem like it’s just a few drawings.”

 “Ladies, would you like to share your conversation with the class? Is it more important than the material that will be on tomorrow’s exam? Would you like to take it today after class since you don’t seem invested in the review?” You fell silent and averted eye contact, heat creeping up your necks to your faces. The remainder of class passed excruciatingly slow. When three o’clock finally arrived, you filtered out of the classroom to meet up with Paige. 

“So I was thinking…how would you feel about going to the Row tonight.” Meeting your expectations, she recoiled instantly. 

“Uh, who are you and where is Y/N? You never go to parties.” You turn away from her and begin to walk down the hallway. 

“I just thought it might be nice to do something different for a change.” Your cheeks were flaming again. 

“You’re such a liar. Who is it?” You bit your lip. 

“What do you mean?” you stalled. Paige stopped you mid-gait, grabbing at your arm. 

“Who is it, Y/N?” You had no choice but to look at her. 

“Ryan McClean.” Another Lie. It was a good replacement though. He was sweet, good looking and respectful. At least as much as could be expected for a frat boy. Paige stepped back with a hand on her hip. 

“You’ve never mentioned him, let alone told me you have a crush on him.” You continued to walk, ushering her forward.

 “Well, it kinda happened fast. I don’t know–I was hoping to see him tonight. I wanted to look cute.” You saved face by putting on an extra air of confidence. 

“Okay, okay I see you!” Paige grinned, snapping her fingers left and right as she walked. 

“Unfortunately, I have a date with Mark tonight–so I won’t be able to go.” You nodded, secretly relieved that she wouldn’t have to see you lose what little humility you had left. 

“Stay connected to the phone, don’t drink too much, play safe, get home safe,” she counted off on her fingers. 

“Thank you, Mom. Would you like to dress me, too?” you asked, grinning. Paige rolled her eyes playfully. 

“Actually, now that you ask, let’s go pick out an outfit that doesn’t scream…pilgrim lost in the twenty-first century.” You eyed her for a silent moment, challenging each other not to laugh, but you were the first one to lose, throwing your head back and cackling at her. 

“You are such a bitch!” You said, elbowing her. “Let’s go." Paige wouldn’t let you go to that party without looking your best.

***

“Lacy Monroe.” “Total babe, 13/10. Would fuck her any day,” Wyatt Sellars interjected, a massive grin pasted on his face. 

“Okay, how about Holly?” Matthew asked the question from the ping-pong table, tapping balls back to Wyatt. Christian Hearst entered the room next, a towel wrapped around his waist, applying deodorant to his armpits. 

“Wilson? She’s a bit of a bitch, but I'd chase her for a little while until I got bored.” He chuckled, walking to the fridge for a beer.

“How about Y/N?” The room falls silent, save for the fast bounce of the forfeited ping pong ball that was previously in play. Samuel Francis Kiszka. He sits cross-legged on a lounge chair in the corner, knocking back the rest of his IPA.

“You mean the sexiest girl at school?” Wyatt offered. “Is she Mormon or something? She could have easily made her way through the entire football team by now.” 

“Jesus, you dumb fuck, she’s not Mormon.” Christian came behind Wyatt, thumping him on the back of his head. 

“Well-I didn’t know, I–” 

“I think she’s stunning,” Sam says, leaning forward to place his elbows on his knees. His grin was obvious. His cunning expression cut through the room.

“Okay, asshole. What’s with the look?” Christian moved to the couch, taking a seat across from sam. 

“I saw her today. Walking to class.” He licked his lips as he talked. Christian rubbed his hands together, prepared to hear about some salacious romp. 

“And?” 

Sam’s eyes grow wider. “Oh, n-nothing happened, I just saw her.” A chorus of disappointed scoffs filled the room.

 “You suck, man. You literally had us going, just for fucking nothing,” Wyatt whined. 

“It’s not like anything would happen– I’m pretty sure she’s a virgin anyway,” Sam continued. 

“Oh, so she’s the pick of the litter. Nice!” Matthew interjected. Sam looked at him with a minor look of disgust, shaking his head. 

“So why are you being a pussy, Sam? I Bet–” Christian pointed his finger at Sam in a telling gesture. “I bet you…I bet you that she won’t let you take her virginity before the month is over.” Rising from his seat, Sam padded to the kitchen tossing his beer bottle across the room, where it clattered into the trash can.

“I bet you I can make it happen. Six hundred dollars and open supply of weed for one month–split evenly.” His grin emanated throughout the room.

“Aha, bet!” Matthew said, coming around Sam to slap him on the back in approval. “Paying up like a man.” Sam took a long gulp of his beer before retreating to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. 

***

Just as you finished your makeup, your hand slipped and your eyeliner streaked messily through the eyeshadow that you had just applied so effortlessly. “Fuck!” An exasperated sigh escaped your parted lips as you wiped at your eyelid to salvage the look. After several minutes, you emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed except for your top–you didn’t want to ruin it with makeup stains. Just as you pulled your head through the sparkly black crop top, your phone chimes. Paige.

Show Ryan what he’s missing, bitch! Shake that ass in my absence, too. Stay safe, I love you. Call me if you need me.

Right. Ryan. My little secret. You sent her a quick text wishing her well on her date. Pulling a pair of gold hoops through your ears, you got a notification that Carlos, your Uber driver, was waiting outside of your apartment. Grabbing a few last minute items, you made your way downstairs. Pulling up to campus, you noticed one thing first. It was loud. So loud in fact, that your head  was pounding by the time you made it to the Row. The identical houses were arranged in a perfect square with a patch of green lawn in the middle. Adirondack chairs littered the grass, loosely thrown around a glowing brick fire-pit. Girls looped themselves around boys, chattering aimlessly with beverages that sloppily poured over the sides of their cups and onto their laps and into the grass. They giggled and slurred–their heels dug into the earth, causing several unfortunate partygoers to trip and lurch, earning themselves yet another spilled drink or bitchy laughs from gaggles of jealous and judgemental girls.  

You rolled your eyes, debating on going after all, but your feet were already moving underneath you, carrying you along the sidewalk that led to each house. Who were you to think that it was smart to come here alone, especially when it was the first party you had attended in God-knows-how long? 

“Y/N!” Your eyes darted upward, trying to place the voice that was calling your name. You found him. Your eyes met his and you instantly felt like you were drowning. A vignette seemed to filter out the unnecessary material around you; the blaring music muted, the giggles and shouts subsided into soft static. He was impeccably dressed in navy silk. A tailored blazer skimmed his bare chest, provided as a mere accessory rather than a true piece of clothing. His bottoms hugged at his frame, falling just above a perfectly shined pair of leather loafers. His hands were casually tucked into his pockets as he looked directly at you–with that fucking smile. 

He strode towards you, knocking you out of the trance. Your breath hitched, sending bolts of panic through your system as he approached. Oh shit, what do I do? You thought, averting eye contact as you made every attempt to not look as awkward and helpless as you really were. 

“You’re not a hologram, right? If I remember correctly, you acted like you would rather be caught dead than come to the Row.” His feet landed in front of you as he arrived. You met his eyes, crossing your arms defensively.

“Well, I wanted to see what I was missing–by the looks of it, it just looks like it’ll lead to meaningless sex and a bitch of a hangover.” He readjusted in his spot, cocking an eyebrow upward. He likes your sass. He likes it a lot. 

“Well, it is a party, Y/N, what better to do than get drunk and fuck, hmm?” You scoffed at him, stepping off to the side, making your way to the first house. You heard his shoes tapping the pavement as he walked. Good. You wanted him to follow you. 

“What is your drink of choice?” He asked, trying to change the subject to something more playful. “I usually stick with tequila–the citrus notes are just–” You heard him kiss the tips of his fingers in a “chef’s kiss” gesture from behind you. You couldn’t help but grin, careful to maintain your guarded disposition. 

“Got any Pappy?”  You asked, turning over your shoulder with a grin. “I’m an expensive lay.”

Sammy snorts. “Two thousand dollar bourbon? You know the fucking answer, sweetheart.” That earned him a smile. You turned to face him and were immediately tossed upside down at the sight of his dimples. 

“Well, we do have some lovely white claw reserve that was bought at this very upscale store. Maybe you know it–Target?” You couldn’t help but chuckle at him. 

“Shut up, Sam!” He smiled warmly, coming beside you, pulling an arm around your shoulder.

 “Let’s go find something worth drinking, hmm?” You hadn’t processed what was happening, but you didn’t want to, either. You let it happen, weighing risk versus reward.  You stepped forward into the party with him at your side, forgetting the lie you had told paige. So much for finding Ryan. Instead, you found Sam. 

End of Part.

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[engineer-gunzelpunk]

Cigarettes (Short Story) (CW: Mention of an accident)

For @lookashinyrock, a picture of SpookyHenry being playful and fanged... along with an overdue story to go with the other drawing I did of him...

Being gentle doesn’t mean you cannot be scary…

“Whats the matter, my good man? Haven’t you had a locomotive ask you for a cigarette before?”

Not one this monstrous…

The man had found a quiet spot to have a puff of a ciggy or two. He was not to know that this was Henry’s forest and he was not kind to those who trespassed or littered. He’d seen the locomotive approach, dropped the cigarette butt in the scrub and set to make off as quietly as he could, but the big Black Five had seen him and was annoyed at the casual disrespect. At being so far away from where he should be to go into the forest just to smoke.

It kept happening that people trespassed into the line to do meaninglessly silly things like cross the rails or end up in places where they shouldn’t to do things they could easily do at home.

Why, oh why do people keep doing this?

“Excuse me, my good man! Would you be so kind as to offer a weary locomotive a cigarette?”, he called out to the man.

The man had seemed surprised.

“Sure…” uneasy at this odd request.

“Come…lets smoke and talk a bit...”

As he approached the Black Five cautiously, Henry began to blow out a lot of steam all at once, gradually but then thick enough to be covered up. Through it came a clanking, grinding noise and his voice groaning… and distorting.

The change sounded terrible enough, but once the steam cleared enough the full horror of it was overwhelming; now he was at least 30ft tall, had bestial hoofed legs in the place of wheels, and a whip-like tail with a vicious looking coupling hook where his tender should have been. That grey Dalby-esque smokebox face had a predatory cast and his eyes were now yellow, and glowing…

“Whats the matter, my good man? Haven’t you had a locomotive ask you for a cigarette before?”, he laughed mockingly. Even his voice had changed, split into three: the clipped, snooty masculine above, a darkly lilting husky feminine in the middle and a mechanical-animal growl that reverberated below.

“Come, sit with me and let us smoke and talk a bit…”

The man was overtaken by the urge to bolt, but he knew that if he ran, Henry would give chase and he was entirely unsure whether he would just outright eat him or maliciously play cat and mouse with him.

“You still haven’t given me a cigarette…” he said, more amused than annoyed.

He yawned and stretched the first set of “pilot” legs upward, flexing paws that could easily crush a man and talons the size of scythe blades. He had harmed nothing more than soil when he used those claws for purchase on a steep hill, but the man did not know that.

Henry sat back down, sphynx-like, and casually whipped his tail a couple of meters above the man’s head, then settled with the hooked tail-tip hanging over him like a scorpion’s stinger.

“Cigarette?”

He approached the bestial engine cautiously, cigarette in hand. It was not all he could do not to bolt.

“Hand it to my mouth...I won’t bite…”, his three part voice reverberating, cheekily.

Trembling, he cautiously handed it over and lit it. If it wasn’t so unnerving, it would have been ridiculous, the tiny cigarette in the big loco’s mouth.

Henry sucked it in one drag, blew the smoke out of his nostrils, hissed steam and then swallowed the butt.

He said nothing but purred quietly for a time, less a purr and more of a rumbling shhhhhhhhhhhhh.

“Bit far from any of the stations, aren’t you?”

...

“Lovely here isn’t it?”

“Uh huh…”

“I had a buffer in making this… this used to be a bare embankment where mud would slide down into the track whenever it was wet… now the trees hold it all together.

“We keep them away from the line of course… trees can fall onto the line and stray hot cinders can easily burn down the whole lot. The line inspector tells us when we need to prune the trees… we are not at all sentimental that way…,

‘I guess when they came up with this idea they weighed up the benefits and disadvantages...”

“The passengers love it so…whenever any one of us has to stop at the set of points there, they love looking at the animals and trees..”

“It would be such a shame if people started littering here and spoil it…”, lantern eyes turning towards the cigarette butts. Henry grinned, black lips pulled back bearing fangs.

“Are you really going to eat me over cigarette butts?”, the man stammered.

“Oh Heavens no, my friend! What gave you that impression?” laughed Henry, and licked his lips.

But after saying that, his three-part voice lost its mirth, and grew cold. His masculine voice lost its foppish edge and took on a snarled, vaguely Cockney/Manx inflection. His actual voice.

“I’m going to chase you off because this area is private NWR property…

‘You don’t look like any guard or railway worker that I know of and you are not wearing high-vis gear, so I must assume you are trespassing… whether you are looking to be a vandal, going to have some kind of party or for illicit sex is not my concern...you put yourself in danger just by being here…”

‘Because I’m nice, I’m going to give you around 5 minutes head start and I will not say anything to the Fat Controller… just so you know…”

Henry suddenly stood from his reclining position, raised his front arms and flexed his claws again.

“If I catch you again here again…

The least I’ll do to you is to make you eat every last one of your cigarettes and whatever trash you leave behind…”

The man finally bolted.

Henry chuckled darkly, waited for a few minutes and started blowing out a lot of steam. Into the cloud his monstrous form vanished. And he returned to how he was, his engine form, the split voices collapsing back into one.

“Driver, Fireman! I am ready now to go back to work!”.

The driver and fireman were having a smoke break of their own well away from the action, having gone out to inform the signal man so not to break Rule 55… and they had the remnants in a cup ready to be burned in Henry’s firebox. They picked up at least 3 cigarette butts from where the man had been.

“Aren’t you entrapping that man by asking him for a cigarette?” asked his driver.

“Any fool already breaking the rules by going into a prohibited area and going over to the track to give a locomotive a cigarette deserves what he gets…not my fault he was too dumb to realise this...” snorted Henry.

“Since when have you become so uptight about the rules, old boy?” asked his driver cheekily.

“Since people started trespassing into the forest and having parties and screwing and leaving trash everywhere… I’m sick of it. They cross the lines and make it very stressful to go at speed...’

‘An example needs to be set… its for everyone’s own good…”

“Like that business with the tunnel…”

Henry sighed deeply, “I really, really wish you didn’t remind me of that...that was different. I only wanted to give that bloke a little scare, not trap him in a shed and torture him for ages…”

“I suppose...I’m sorry I brought it up… I just meant that the first FC did that to you as a warning to others, not that it was necessarily right… or kind…”

“I am being kind. Very kind as a matter of fact!” snapped Henry.

‘Far far better to be afraid of the weird, ugly possessed demon train lurking about than getting cleaned up by Gordon while crossing the track and then being cleaned off Gordon’s buffer beam with a high pressure hose and a spade…”

Driver sighed, “We’re probably going to have to teach you some nuance to dial down the ‘I’ll kill you if you come back here again…’’’

“I did not say that!”

And they continued to argue as they chuffed away to Henry’s next task.

[uriekukistan]

10 but actually i wanna modify it into which jjk characters you could and couldnt be besties with and why :3333333

wait okay this is very interesting to think about thank u for the ask !!

okay characters i 100% would be besties w

shoko - we're smoking ciggies together while i pretend im not in love w her :3

yuuta - he's literally already my best friend what are we talking abt. i just think we'd vibe on so many levels.

kirara - we're dyeing each others hair in the jujutsu tech bathroom. showers are stained bc of us. doing each others makeup. they're convincing me to let them give me a diy piercing

yuuji - he's just so enjoyable. it's literally impossible not to like him. also i feel like while he prefers to go out to do things, he's also down to stay home and chill which is perf

yuki - please take me for a ride on your motorcycle.

choso - he's a sweet guy and someone i'd want to have in my life

inumaki - we're just chillin. parallel play and all that. communicating thru brain waves

nobara - she's a true girl's girl. how could i not be besties w her. she just seems like a good friend to have on your side bc she's loyal and takes no shit

ino - he looks like he has good music taste and a skateboard. and he pets stray cats.

kenjaku - don't ask. we're having a great time being evil together.

characters i could be besties w

megumi - we would totally be besties except we both would prefer to stay in our room so we need a facilitator friend or we would never talk. we're also too similar, so potential opportunity for arguing over stupid shit

utahime - friends but not besties. probably mutual friends bc of shoko but like idk what we'd do to hang out on our own yk?

maki - i think we'd be friends but not besties like i just dont think we'd have enough in common to be besties

gojo - we'd be friends but he has soooo much energy that i think i could only tolerate hanging out in person like. once every two weeks. at the same time he's friends w geto nanami & shoko so maybe he has secret introvert taming skills

miwa - she seems like the kind of person you share a class w and during that class youre friends and make good small talk and roll your eyes at stupid ppl with, but then you don't talk to them outside of class

yaga - i only if he makes me a cursed doll plushie friend, they look cute

nanami - we're getting along fine but we have nothing to talk abt beyond "work sucks" and "can u believe the prices on the convenience store sandwiches"

characters i wouldn't be besties w

geto - love him but i think we would argue for no reason. not in a hateful way but yk. too much to form anything other than mutual respect.

hakari - he's the best friend's boyfriend that ur always bickering w. nothing wrong w him i just dont think our personalities match

todo - please get away from me im so sorry like ig he's fine but like the chad energy is overwhelming

noritoshi kamo - this doesnt even have to do w the fact that he ran away from the fight mostly but more abt how he gives the vibe that he would disapprove of everything i do.

characters im actively beefing w

mei mei - i dont fw pedo freaks

naoya zen'in - i dont fw misogynists

sukuna - die.

[jimmys-zeppelin]

I’m just here to ask you to please bless us with some of your favorite 80s Jimmy pictures 😌

mads....10 is entirely too few. alas, here are ONLY ten. plus breakdowns on why I love them so I'll include a cut so I don't bother anyone 😊

1. okay FIRST. chest hair. CHEST! HAIRRRRRR oh my fbdhdhshdhd. THEYRE GREY!!!! and um excuse me those Curls?? sweet cheeks over here ugh omg lemme squishhhhhh

2. fuckn the cheeks on this man....and the squinty eyes I'm so 🥹🥹🥹 jimmy lemme kiss u. plus u can see a hint of a hint of his pretty green eyes so

3. ciggie 😵‍💫 sweaty 😵‍💫 chubby 😵‍💫

4. nothing to say abt this one other than !!!!

5. RORY!! and the jacket half off HELLO? I'm in love. never can leave out the ciggie. it's a staple accessory ok? and the scarf !!!! oh my good god. I forget what the shirt says but I KNOW it's something about religion. I'm sure of it. sweet babes correct me in the replies if I'm wrong.

6. okay ik he was going through it here but his smile 🥺 he just looks so happy to be there and I know he was so happy to be a part of ARMS in general. like one of his first post zep ventures alone I'm insanely proud of him. and the hands he's so SHY!!! I've rlly been wanting to write an arms era jimmy thing ugh. in love with this photo I wanna squish him. and like. ruffle his hair.

7. this one I saw today 👁️👁️ 100% disrespectfully staring @ the package sorry. ik I've gotten a million and one asks about how big his ... basketballs are. BUT I AM INCLUDING THIS BECAUSE HE LOOKS SO CUTE. also the tie/scarf combo....jimmy. babe. pick one <3

8. *fax machine noises* he looks so SOFT !!!! I've always loved this photo for so many reasons

9. L E G S FOR DAYSSSSSSSSSS. plus the ciggie, can't forget the ciggie. I wanna give him a slap on his ass okay?

10. and I mean. big finale. here we have the Sweat! the Tummy! the LOOSE CLOTHES (practically falling off)!!! and most importantly the curls. obsessed. thank u jimmy

[barnbridges]

The Buddy Holly 8 track he got his brother rested boastful under the crapton of comics Ted somehow thought they’d read. He got it off Sean for a pack of cigarettes he picked from Lisa when she was there, all beige suits and trying to nod to everything Mom was saying.  Back then they placed their bets, if she’d kill Teddy or get knocked up first, because no way he took her any other way. But she was nice and all, even in the summer kept her bob sharp and lips in a dainty smile. Funny thing was, she did both just fine it seems. ‘98. It was sad and all, like their Uncle down in Springfield, but they left the kid to find them. In bed and all, romantic almost. Lisa’s last pack of ciggies resting careful atop the dresser. But it was still Pall Malls. Who even smokes that trash? Neither he nor Bunny smoked much, but knew to appreciate a good ciggie when presented with it.  Ted and Lisa were under the ground by their own making for years, but a part still yearns for the stench of every car they ever owned, the way even the kid John smelled of it. For all of his father, Jack Corcoran felt sticky, even a bundle boy carried half-conscious across the parking lot at the burger place, he bore some of that maternal ugliness. It comes with having a mother at all, he muses. He’s rather think about anything, than the dopey grin that was half puked up birthday cake that Bunny had for him that birthday. It still feels etched into his soul, that this was it, where it all went wrong.

dropping more... some time. enjoy the cursed family that does nothing, means nothing, and exists in the void.