#senior problems am i right

[luxevamp]

drew gerard bc this painting for school is beating my ass

[bacchuschucklefuck]

just realized after sophomore year's article class swap riz would 100% have assassins after him

[chimaerra]

also. sometimes my friends make me go insane

[badgertracksart]

Portfolio advice, from a lead who hires Concept Artists

(This was originally a twitter thread I wrote before the site self imolated, hense it's strange structure.) I wrote this after a weekend of portfolio reviews - 1. Like a maths exam, please please show your working. I want to see thumbs options, mid options and of course a final design.

2. Arrange your portfolio, I don't want to bounce about between subject matter and pipeline. Your portfolio's narrative should be as strong as your work... 3. Please make worlds that excite the viewer, make them want to go in and explore them, explain to them the interesting parts of the town, or the way the character's hat unfolds. How will this draw the viewer in? 4. As I've said before the majority of your project work is explanatory not mood, make sure your portfolio contains explanatory work. Explained here -

5. A lot of beautiful post apocolyptic paintings, , but 80% of realistic games and film, we just give the environment artists photo ref, they are capable artists in their own right. Different work in stylised where you do need to create rules for how things can be translated. 6. Production art contains call out sheets, material references and flat graphics. This doesn't have to be your final image, but it should support it.

7. Design characters on a swatch(es) of the environment they will be viewed in. Not on white. I make swatch backgrounds from screenshots, it avoids assumptions that damage readability. 8. Reverse of this, put people in your environments, show me the scale.

9. It's not a deal breaker for a review, but if you intend to get a job, please show me your work on a screen larger than a smartphone (print outs probably the cheapest option with the best battery life). 10. Please have your contact details clearly visible, and by that I mean email address, I will not pass your social media contact on, I cannot input your form into my tracking system. EMAIL ADDRESS emblazoned and bake it in, sometimes recruiters do funky stuff to pdfs

11. Your portfolio will never feel done, not to you anyway. You will have learnt from your latest pieces and want to apply it to older work. But we know art is a journey. Send your portfolio anyway. I've been in the industry 10+ years and my portfolio is still not 'finished'. 12. If you are applying to an environment centric Concept Art position then please vary your times of day! Golden hour is cool but show me some happy sunny days, looming overcast days, what about at night? Vary your weather too! Sunny snowy day? Rainy Spring day? Stormy night?

13. If you are applying for a character centric Concept Art role then please ensure your portfolio shows a variety of body types and ethnicities. 14. Designing characters for games? Please show back views and feet (!) Many potfolios contain only front views. This is a problem because:

You haven't shown you are considering the design from all angles.

In many games rear view is the main view.

Stop cropping feet.

15. If you are entry / graduating and looking at Portfolios to compare content and standard of yr own work too, look at hired grad/junior artists as opposed to seniors Seniors and leads often have old or personal work in their portfolio which isnt representative of the day job. 16a. Show clearly the intended use case for your Concept Art. Mention the game type in the description. Are these player character designs for a 3rd person adventure game? Then more back views please. Bonus points for diagetic ways of showing health / equipment / role etc.

16b. Are these designs for an FPS? Then really the player view of the gun needs to sell the player style/ choices, in an FPS your weapons are almost your character. Are these world designs? What's the view distance? For an RTS your shapes need to read from above & a distance. 16c. The lack of clarification means I am judging the design in isolation, which both harms the design (you might be considering the backview of a char as the main adventure character.) Or an NPC, their waist up expressions may be important for conveying exposition and mechanics.

16d. Concept art is not separate from gameplay, great concept art serves the game team before it is a good illustration.

17. Play games. A variety of games. Think about them. IMO to be a good concept artist you need to understand the common language & references used by your peers. Also understand the principles and common language your audience are used to. FPS design rules are v.diff from RTS.

18. There are many skills that are needed in concept art, please show them. For example: Graphic design - logos, liveries, typographic use etc. VFX concepts - Abilities, Ambience, motion concepts. Architectural knowledge - How buildings are built! & more but I'm out of space :O

[eddiesxangel]

The Kissing Booth | E.M x G!N!Reader

Cw: flufffffff, mild angst on Eddie’s part. Smooching. Reader wears lipgloss. No use of pronouns.

Wc 1.4K

Eddie could not believe this was happening to him.

“Nope, nope, no way, man. Over my dead body-“

“What my boy means is he is grateful he is not being suspended and will graciously accept his punishment of volunteering at the school fair.” Wayne looks at his nephew with a glare in his eyes that Eddie hasn’t seen in a very long time.

“Great, then it’s settled,” Ms. Laughlin, the guidance councillor, smiles.

It was happening. Eddie was being served the most gruesome punishment, and all because he skipped P.E. of all classes.

Eddie Munson was being forced not only to participate in the school fair but to work the kissing booth, of all things.

How on earth would he survive this? Not only would he be the laughingstock of the school, but he would also have to endure the absolute embarrassment of having no one come up to his booth, and he would also have to be forced to participate in extracurricular activities.

“Just wait until Hellfire hears about this boy,” Wayne laughs as he drives him and Eddie back to the trailer.

All Eddie could do was roll his eyes; he could never show his face again.

“You’re not going to believe the rumour I heard today.” Nancy looks at you from over her shoulder. She is sat at your vanity.

“What?” You asked, intrigued, as you got dressed and got ready for tonight’s festivities.

“A little birdy told me that a certain someone is working the kissing booth tonight.” She smirks.

“Who?” You challenge her back.

“Who, what?” Robin walks into the bedroom from the bathroom.

“Nancy knows who is working one of the kissing booths tonight, but who’s telling me” you pout.

“Ohhhhhhhh,” Robin smirks knowingly.

“Oh, not you, too! Come on, who is it!”

Robin and Nancy give one another a nod of the head before Nancy speaks.

“Eddie Munson.”

“Ha ha, very funny; you think I’m going to believe that? How gullible do you think I am?” You snort.

“No, it’s true! Shelly from the student council told me when we were working on the student paper! Instead of detention, this is his punishment, to help out at the fair tonight.” She wiggled her brows at you suggestively.

“Who else’s working it?” You try and ask casually.

Your friends knew about your crush on Eddie. It had been about a month since you confessed to one of your late-night sleepovers.

“Um, I’m not too sure what other guy, but I think Chrissy is working the girl's booth. Nancy shrugged.

“Cool…cool…” you turned to the closet, now faced with a sense of anxiety to find the perfect top.

Eddie was actually dying on the inside. Ten minutes until his “shift” at the booth, and he wanted to book it.

Running away would solve his problems, right? He would much rather be suspended than have to endure this humiliation. This was a cruel and unusual punishment.

He watched from the sidelines as Josh was at the booth currently. He was the senior star quarterback on the football team. Everyone wanted him. He could just see now the long line disbursing once he stood there.

"Hey man, you're up next in 5." Eddie was snapped out of his internal monologue when he felt a hand resting on his shoulder. He wasn't sure how long he had been there stewing with his own thoughts. "Don't worry, it's not all bad. Some customers are cute," Josh smirks.

Oh god. What if he actually had to kiss someone tonight? He hadn’t thought of that option. Like, what if some actually came up? What would he do? Are they expecting tongue?

“You have some gum or something?” He asked quickly before Josh left.

He smirked and tossed him a pack of icy mint.

“Thanks.”

Eddie peaked around the corner to where the booth was set up. The fair was set up on the school football field. There was a small sign that said be back in 5 and no lineup to be seen.

That made Eddie feel a bit better; no one was there. That took some humility out of it.

Before Eddie could back out and run, he felt another hard hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, Munson, your time to shine.” Jeff and Gareth practically dragged Eddie to the booth, kicking and screaming.

“You’re the worst friends ever,” Eddie huffed as they backed away from the booth. Watching him so he won’t run away.

“You can't serve the time and shouldn’t do the crime.” Jeff laughed.

“That’s not-“ Eddie was cut off mid-sentence as he saw Robin and Nancy pushing you towards the booth just like he had been moments ago.

“Don’t make me do this,” you plead with your best friends.

“You have to do it,” “It’s now or never,” “He’s right there. Just have him your ticket and pucker your lisp. It’s not that hard,” Robin and Nancy whispered in your ear as they dragged you towards Eddie.

“You guys, please, I can’t!” You say a bit too loudly as you fight back your friends from pushing you up to the booth.

You can see the look on Eddie’s face as you are pushed up the step of the booth. He looks disappointed? Disgusted? You’re not too sure.

You let out an embarrassing squeal as you stumbled in front of Eddie. “Um hi”

Despite not being well-acquainted with Eddie, you couldn't help but notice him whenever he walked by. You only exchanged a few words in passing and learned about him through your friends. Although you never had the opportunity to spend time together, you found him to be irresistibly charming and incredibly good-looking. Whenever you caught a glimpse of him in the cafeteria, he never failed to bring a smile to your face with his silly antics and infectious laughter.

“Uh hey,” he spoke back, clearly uncomfortable.

“Busy night for you?” You ask, trying to delay the inevitable.

“Uh nope.”

“Good,” you smile; the thought of Eddie kissing anyone else made you want to vomit.

“Good?” He cocks a brow at you. “The thought of nobody wanting to come up to the freak of Hawkins High is good to you?”

“Oh I didn’t mean it like-“

“Why are you even here?”

“Oh- well- I um-"

“No, I get it. You’re just here on a dare, or you lost the bet, right? I really thought better of Nancy and Robin; I thought they were my friends… You know I heard you say you can’t do this. I understand the thought of kissing me is so terrible that-“

You couldn't help but cut off Eddei from his intrusive thoughts. You held his face with both hands and smushed your lips together. The thought of Eddie thinking that about you was far worse than the fear of kissing him.

It wasn't everything you had dreamed of. However, the kiss was still nice. You felt the eruption of butterflies fill your stomach as Eddie deepened this kiss himself. You kissed him until you could no longer breathe. Only then is when you pull away.

“Woah”

“I hope that was okay.” You shy away.

“Yeah.” Eddie sighed as he took you in.

As he gazed upon you, he was struck by how pretty you were, which he had overlooked until now. The sweet aroma of strawberries wafted from you as the strawberry lipgloss lingered on his lips, just below his nose.

“Um, here,” you jut out your hand with the crinkled ticket you hadn't yet paid with.

“Oh no, no, the house,” Eddie said without thinking and that made you giggle.

“Well, I really only bought a ticket for this, so I might as well cash it in.” you flirt.

“Ok, yeah, sure. Two for one.” Eddie took the ticket from your hand and brought it back to cup your cheek before kissing you again.

You could hear the giggles and cheers of your friends from behind you in the distance, but your main focus was on Eddie. His soft, plush lips. His minty taste, the way his soft hair tickled your cheeks.

“Ok, lovebirds, that’s enough.” the supervising teacher returned with an unimpressed huff.

You begrudgingly pulled away, but with a smile nonetheless.

“Can I get your number?” Eddie’s mouth was moving before his brain could catch up.

“Come find us later, lover boy.” Robin giggled while snatching your arm and pulled you away before you could answer.

“Dude!” Gareth clapped his hands, having witnessed the whole thing.

“Maybe we should sign up for this,” Jeff laughed. A little jealous of what he just witnessed.

After you, Eddie didn’t care if he got another customer for the rest of the night. Maybe this whole kissing booth thing wasn’t too bad after all.

[kiame-sama]

this is so stupid but im currently cracking up the idea of yandere lilia totally forgetting that his (somewhat new) object of obsession has not been informed of his actual age yet and trying to hit on them only to get like.

"Uh huh kiddo, what are you, fourteen?"

and just being stuck going 'no i swear to god im like 400 its a faerie thing please stop laughing i am a father of three-'

What Are you, Twelve? (Yan!Lilia x Reader)

(Changed from 14 to 12 because that is my usual go-to age to guess when kids (under 21) try to hit on me (over 25))

Warnings; Yandere, yandere relationship, yandere behavior, yandere temper, age confusion, Silver/Sebek/Malleus have to vouch for Lilia, old man trying to have game,

~~~~~~~~

"You know, (y/n)," you wanted to sigh when you heard him start up again, knowing the odd lad from Diasomnia was back at his usual antics, "I certainly wouldn't mind a moonlit tousle through the grass with you any night... Or any day, for that matter."

Part of you wanted to laugh and part of you wanted to scream in frustration. This had been ongoing since you met the oddly young vice-housewarden of Diasomnia, Lilia. He was a cherub-faced pallid creature with pointed ears that made him look like an elf, and he was obviously quite interested in you. Problem was, you weren't interested because you were almost certain he wasn't even old enough to attend Night Raven College, let alone be hitting on you in such a direct way.

You would give credit where it is due, Lilia often spoke as if he were an old man and he could occasionally speak as if he were wise beyond his years. Still, that didn't change the fact that you were almost certain he was a child who got in to NRC due to an older sibling. You viewed the black and pink haired boy the same way you viewed Ortho; as a child. Hence the problem you now faced as that same cherub-looking boy shamelessly made a pass at you for the fifth time that day.

It was easy to ignore when you were in class despite how the young boy tried everything in his power to get your attention. However, you were now in the cafeteria and just wanted a bit of peace and quiet. You had been spending time by the table Diasomnia students often occupied because others avoided it, but now you may have to rethink the strategy as Lilia would come bouncing over the moment he saw you.

"Lilia, I just want to eat lunch."

"I would love to eat too! Perhaps later I can have a taste of you?"

Enough was enough. You tried to not snap at others- especially housewardens and vice-housewardens- but this kid was not getting the hint and you were getting annoyed. It had to be something his older siblings put him up to, as even now you could see the Diasomnia students watching the interaction keenly. You hadn't had much time in classes with these magically-gifted students, but you knew enough about them to know which student was likely Lilia's caretaker.

So without a word to Lilia, you stood and marched right over to the table the typical Diasomnia students frequented. The one with white hair- who you knew to be NRC's own 'sleeping beauty' Silver- and stood directly in front of him with a hand on your hip.

"Call off your little brother."

"... Excuse me?"

You pointed to Lilia- who had happily joined your side- with an exasperated sigh.

"Your little brother, call him off or explain to him that children shouldn't flirt with others who are several years their senior."

This made an odd choking sound escape the green haired one sitting next to Silver. Though you didn't know that one's name, you knew enough to recognize he was the one most often yelling in any class he attended. Before he could respond, the slow rumbling lilt of the housewarden of Diasomnia hummed out.

"Lilia is not Silver's little brother."

"Okay," you gave an exasperated shrug, "then whichever of you is supposed to be keeping an eye on him, teach him some manners. Trying to sleep with someone older than him will not end well for either party."

"... Child of man, enlighten me, how old do you believe Lilia to be?"

"Too young to be chasing me."

It was then Lilia spoke up, his usual playful smile gone and replaced with a more contemplative frown.

"I'm old enough."

"Kid, what are you, twelve? I am way too old for you."

The lasting moment of silence almost made you wonder if your assessment of the boy's age was incorrect as those sitting at the table all shared a look. Lilia was no longer the bouncing excitable boy he typically behaved as, straightening up as if he were offended by your assessment.

"Twelve years-? Ah, it seems I've forgotten to inform you of my true identity. I am not human, (y/n). I am Fae. We age differently compared to humans-"

"Okay, so you're several decades old, but you are mentally tweleve. I'm still too old for you."

"... Silver is my son. I raised him, Sebek, and Malleus from infancy or near infancy."

"And I'm the Queen of Hearts. Lies are still lies, Lilia. No matter how well you spin them."

"No, I'm being serious. I am basically a father of three-"

"Lilia, I'm being serious as well. Stop chasing people older than you. It's not alright to ask someone older than you to sit on your face, okay? You shouldn't even be thinking about these things until way later in life."

You walked from the table, content that you had made your point clear as you went back to your own lunch. Lilia was beside himself with surprise and he couldn't help but look to his three sons for some kind of aid or assistance.

"I am not twelve."

"Father... I've told you, if you insist on acting younger than your age, humans are going to believe you are actually young."

"Then you talk to them, Silver. Or I may have to drag Crowley into this. My youthful appearance should not interfere in my attempts to gain their affections. That would explain why they look at me so oddly whenever I try to proposition them, though. Still, you don't want your dear father to end up a lonely old man do you?"

"Of course not, Father, you would be an excellent match for anyone-"

"Exactly my thoughts! So be a good son and wing-man for your father."

"... This is going to end poorly."

[vrystalius]

hi! Ive been reading ur fics for a while and i love them sm and hope ur enjoying ur break!

I was wondering if u could write about giyuu apologizing after an arguement?

once again i absolutely love ur fics lol 💗

Apologies

Giyuu apologising after an argument— how does he do it?

Pairing: married!Giyuu x gn!married!reader

“Why can’t you just talk to me? I feel like I’m the only one trying here!”

You immediately regretted those words the second they left your mouth. Washing out your mouth with soap won’t wash that expression of your husband from your face, him staring at you in both disbelief and deep guilt. Giyuu knows that he can come off as cold or even uncaring, even to you. It’s never intentional but rather a terrible habit he seemingly can’t get rid off and it keeps forcing him to push people away from him. That’s why it may seem he doesn’t try hard enough to express his thoughts, his feelings.

Despite knowing that you will be understanding and listen to his worries, hold him while you kiss his face until he finally smiles again, all those fears and thoughts that dwell on horrific events he experiences on a daily gone in mere seconds.

So, who should apologise first? Giyuu, or you?

Since your husband left your house after the argument, probably wanting to take a walk or get some fresh air, you had time to think about what to do to apologise to him. Directly talking to him might scare him off and result into him being too intimidated to answer or scurry off to hide somewhere else to avoid you altogether. A letter could work, right?

Composing and thinking about every word, every sentence helped you sort your thoughts out and properly speak about the argument from your perspective while also staying respectful to his own view of the issues. You just hoped that your crow was awake to deliver a letter to your husband. If not, you’ll leave it in your bedroom for your husband to find and read quietly while you waited on him somewhere else.

But before you could prepare a method for Giyuu receiving your letter, Kanzaburo, your husband’s elderly crow, weakly called out to you and ruffled his feathers while resting on your windowsill. A letter was secured around his neck. Gently, you took the bird and put it to rest on your lap, giving him well-deserved scratches while gently unravelling the letter from his neck. It was written by Giyuu, obviously, but before you could read, the door to the room opened and your husband stood in the doorframe, staring down at you in surprise. He eyed you, then the letter in your hands.

“Have you.. read it?”

“No, Kanzaburo just delivered it.”

“Ah.”

You could see the gears shifting inside his mind. He probably overestimated the senior crow and thought the letter would be delivered faster. You scratched the crows head and glanced back to the paper in your hand.

“Should I read it? Or do you want to say everything you wrote down to me personally?”

Giyuu silently averted his eyes, his shoulders sagging and a small frown spreading on his face. He was avoiding to look into your eyes.

“No. I’ll be in the bedroom.”

You watched your husband slowly close the door, leaving you alone with his elder companion. While the crow was contently preparing to nap on your lap, you opened the letter.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳༚

My dearest,

I am sorry. I know I’ve caused arguments again and again because of my silence and my behaviour over all. You feel like you’re the only one trying in this relationship and I’m sorry for that. I thought that if I stayed silent it would be easier for the both of us but that is clearly not the case. I should’ve realised much sooner, but instead I am only doing it now.

I am just too scared to scare you off with my problems and issues since you have your own, just like everyone else does. You are important to me so you always are my priority. My thoughts and feelings can wait, so I stay quiet.

You deserve better than the way I am treating you, you deserve so, so much better. You’ve been patient with me, you stayed with me for so long, through good and bad times. I don’t deserve your love.

I want to do better and I will. Please have a little more patience with me. Please.

I love you, I am sorry that I haven’t said it enough times. I am sorry if you don’t believe me.

Yours forever,

Tomioka Giyuu.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳༚

💠

Thank you so much for requesting!! I’ve been seeing you interact with my posts pretty often so thank you for all your love and support <33 I’ll happily write more requests for you in the future if you liked this one!

Also, I haven’t forgot about Kyojuro’s thighs request :,) I started writing it and it’s halfway finished— my NSFW meter just ran out and I started writing this instead XD

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves, physically and mentally <3

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Bad Day

Summary: The reader's been kidnapped while working a lead in Montana. But her old friend Beau doesn't seem all that thrilled when he finds her...

Pairing: Beau x reader

Word Count: 1,200ish

Warnings: language, minor kidnapping

A/N: Wrote a little Beau to get over some writer's block. Enjoy!

_________

You sighed behind the tape over your mouth. God this was embarrassing. Held hostage by a pair of idiot drug dealers. You couldn’t believe it. To be fair, you weren’t expecting a guy to come around the corner of the house with a shotgun in hand.

A door kicked in nearby, your eyes darting to the left. A familiar shadow fell over the room, your shoulders relaxing as Beau cleared the space, jaw hard set. He frowned as he approached you, kneeling down slowly, careful as he pulled the tape away. 

“You okay?” he asked quietly, leaning you forward slightly so he could cut through the zip ties behind you.

“Only hurt my pride,” you said, stretching your arms out in front of you. Beau’s face was grim though and a churn formed in your gut. “Did someone get hurt?”

“No,” he said, pulling you to your feet. He grabbed the radio off his belt, focus back on the doorway. “I got her. She looks alright but make sure a paramedic looks her over.”

“Is everything okay?” you asked, not expecting the cold shoulder from Beau of all people. 

“Just be quiet until we get the all clear.” You took your turn to frown. You’d known Beau a long time. Hell, he’d been your senior partner when you were a rookie back in Houston when he was still doing street patrols. It hadn’t been that long a run as partners but you’d always been friends, would run your cases by each other. Shit, that’s the whole reason you were up here, Beau helping you with a case you tracked this way. He didn’t still see you as that kid who didn’t know anything, did he?

After getting caught though, who the hell knew. You were disappointed in yourself. You wouldn’t be surprised if he were too.

A long sixty seconds passed before everyone had checked in, Beau’s stance easing. You brushed past him and went upstairs, found your own way outside and over to an ambulance pulling up the drive. They examined you, wrapping up a scrape you’d gotten on your arm but otherwise you were fine. 

Beau stormed out of the house grumpily as they were finishing, stalking over to where you sat at the end of the open abundance. 

“Is she alright?”

“Yeah. Minor bumps and bruises.”

“My officers are bringing two suspects out of the woods any minute. I’m told they’ll need medical attention.” Beau nodded towards a red truck and then his large hand was wrapped loosely around your bicep. You stared at him as he urged you forward, scanning the area once before your gaze shot to where he was focused straight ahead.

“I can walk on my own,” you said, tugging on your arm once but Beau ignored you. You opened your mouth but he ripped open the passenger side door, practically shoving you inside. You glared when he slammed the door shut, Beau behind the wheel quickly. “What do you think-”

“Can you just-” He bit his tongue, backing the truck out as you shook your head. 

“What the hell is your problem? Yeah, I let two guys get the jump on me. That doesn't make me weak or a bad cop. It certainly doesn’t give you the right to treat me l-like I’m some sort of idiot. I asked you for help because my trail led me up here. I found that, that was my work. I am not-”

“Y/N, could you stop for one fucking second?” Beau snapped. He quickly pulled over and got out of the vehicle, walking on the shoulder. He stopped ten feet away from the truck, leaning over, hands on his knees, head tucked down low. You slipped outside, one hand on the door.

“Beau?” You took a few steps closer, Beau righting himself, hands on his hips. “What’s wrong?”

He laughed dryly, lowering his head as he spun around. 

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” he asked back, shaking his head, shrugging his shoulders as he raised his head to face you. “Em found a dead body five months ago. She was kidnapped. I barely managed to convince Carla to let Em stay so I could be there for her. I have just, just stopped hating myself for not being able to protect her and what happens again? Another fucking person I love gets kidnapped.”

“Beau…” You stepped closer, grabbing one of his hands as he took a deep breath. “I’m a cop. I’m a big girl. I don’t need you to protect me.”

“I don’t care if you are capable, Y/N.” Worried green eyes watched you, an unease in them you didn’t like. “You are still mine to protect.” 

You wanted to argue that you weren’t weak but his hand cupped your cheek in a so not friendly way, sliding back to your ear to brush a sweaty strand of hair aside. 

“What are you doing?” you asked quietly, his hand starting to pull away. You caught it, Beau leaving it on your shoulder, playing with the ends of your hair. “Beau.”

“I should have been investigating with you. You could have been so hurt, darlin’.” 

“For a chatterbox you know how to avoid a question, don’t you?” His lip nearly twitched up at that and you smiled softly. “Talk to me, Barlen.”

“Such a stupid nickname,” he chided, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip. 

“You always liked it.”

“I did.” He swallowed thickly, tracing his thumb over your lip again. “You were always a good friend but when you came up to Montana without me even calling when you heard about Em…you were so good with her, keeping her mind off stuff while I found us that bigger place…I think I finally saw you for the first time. I was so goddamn scared you would get hurt today. I couldn’t think straight and I have only felt that helpless on one other case before. Em’s.”

Beau leaned in close, moving his hand to the back of your neck, pressing soft, moist lips against you. It was slow, oh so slow, but you could feel the heat behind it. The need for more. He moved away too soon though, fixing your hair once more as he did so.

“I didn’t mean to be an ass earlier. I just…didn’t want my team seeing me freaking out.”

“...We will discuss that later,” you said, wrapping your arms around his trim waist. He raised an eyebrow as you smiled. “Come on, we both had bad days. Give me a hug and kiss to make it better.”

“You…what are you saying?” You playfully growled, pressing your forehead against his strong body. “Do you…like me too?”

“It’s a miracle you were married once before. We’ll figure out labels tomorrow. Just kiss me, Barlen.”

“Fine, but only cause I was holding back on that last one.”

__________

[annoyinglandmagazine]

How The Heterodyne Boys Adventures Actually Went Most Of The Time

Dumedd Senior at the door to their perpetual nuclear wasteland of an apartment at 4 AM on a Tuesday: Sorry to wake you up but I think you’d want to take a look at this-

*Processing that Bill, Barry and Klaus are all already in the living room/ lab and show no evidence of having been woken up*

Dumedd Senior: Do any of you ever actually sleep?

Bill: No, not really.

*******

Bill: So we have a plan of action this time-

Klaus: Is it to run straight into the problem, violate every lab safety requirement ever written and hope for the best?

Bill: Pretty much but we have it on a blackboard now. Barry: With diagrams.

Klaus: That one’s just a fire labelled ‘Mongfish’s lab’.

Barry: I think it gets the point across.

*******

Klaus: I’m fine, I’ve had worse

Bill: Klaus you’ve died, that statement means less than nothing coming from you.

*********

Barry: I am begging you, would you please not seduce the villain this week. My eyes need a break after last time.

*Ten minutes later*

Barry: Do the words ‘time’ and ‘place’ mean nothing to you people! You’re doing it on purpose now, you have to be!

*********

Klaus: Oh come on, I’m right and you know it.

Bill: Barry, back me up here-

Barry: Don’t drag me into this.

********* Judy: If Bill and Barry were to jump off a cliff-

Klaus: You have to know that isn’t anything close to being hypothetical.

Klaus: Also yes.

*********

Bill: Barry, as your brother it falls to me to give you some valuable wisdom when it comes to dating.

Barry: I would really rather spend a day locked in a room with Sturmvoraus-

Bill: The most important thing to remember is that if you ever find yourself about to do something that you think Klaus or I would do it is safe to say it’s the wrong decision.

Barry: I know that, I’m not suicidal.

Klaus: That’s fair.

[jihyoruri]

ME GIVE US PARANOIA MOMENTS RIGHT NOW PLEASE

as you wish‼️ (I decided to not do moments and do something else but it’s still paranoia crumbs)

the video opens with yn, jaehyun , and wonbin standing stiffly in a line in front of the camera. the atmosphere already feels chaotic as wonbin nudges jay to start the intro. jay stumbles forward dramatically, crashing into yn which causes her to stumble back into the counter.

she cuts her eyes at both boys who who just look straight at the camera avoiding her gaze,“Idiots,” she adds under her breath, while the staff behind the camera stifles their laughter.

“we are going to make cookies.” jay says with a big smile towards the camera, putting both his arms around yn and wonbin’s shoulders.

“you didn’t even introduce our name.” wonbin glares at jay who ignores him.

“they know who we are!” yn huffs, shrugging jay’s arm off aggressively. she then turns to the camera with an exaggerated sweet smile. “anyway, like the angel I am, I came up with this idea to bake cookies for our seniors.”

the camera pans to jay and wonbin who give yn a get real look, she didn’t even want to do it.

“what!?” she exclaims causing both of them to flinch and mumble nothing.

wonbin, trying to salvage the intro, gestures behind the camera. “like yn said, we’re making cookies... from scratch. but, uh, our staff is here to supervise us because apparently—”

“they don’t trust us in the kitchen,” jay whispers conspiratorially, leaning toward the camera like he’s sharing some forbidden secret.

“yeah, probably because someone almost burned down the microwave last week,” yn says, glaring at him.

“that was an accident!”

“making popcorn doesn’t need a microwave tutorial!” yn says rolling her eyes.

“ANYWAY,” Wonbin cuts in, pinching the bridge of his nose, “we’re making fudge cookies because they’re dark and what’s paranoia without a dark vibe? let’s get started.”

the clip cuts to the trio mid argument, voices overlapping as they bicker over who should measure the flour.

“you both suck at measurements!” yn snaps, clutching the measuring cups tightly as jay and wonbin try to wrestle them from her. “I should do it!”

“you’re literally the worst at measurements!” jay fires back, grabbing at the cups. “give me the damn measuring cups before you screw it up!”

“no!” yn retorts, pulling back with enough force to almost knock over a bag of sugar.

“yn,” wonbin cuts in, pinching the bridge of his nose like a stressed parent about to lose it. “go get the chocolate chips.”

“what? no! I can—”

“go,” wonbin repeats firmly, pointing to the pantry. his expression screams that he’s two seconds away from quitting the video altogether.

yn glares at him, clinging to the cups for a moment longer before shoving them into jay’s hands with a muttered, “fine. but fuck you.”

the editors bleep out the curse with a comically loud censor sound as yn storms off camera to get the chocolate chips.

jay smirks, holding up the measuring cups like a trophy. “see? problem solved. I’m the adult here.”

“jay, if you mess this up, I’m going to lose it,” wonbin warns.

the clip cuts to jay immediately spilling half the flour as wonbin facepalms while yn’s laughs are heard from off camera.

just like the intro of the video the three stand stiffly in front of the camera, jay has some flower on his face, wonbin has some chocolate on his white shift while yn eats a bunch of chocolate chips from the palm of her hand.

“they’re in the oven!” jay cheers extremely loud, “I think that went pretty smoothly.”

“no it didn’t.”

“are you dumb?”

yn and wonbin responded at the same time.

jay opens his mouth to defend himself, but yn cuts him off by grabbing another handful of chocolate chips and popping them into her mouth. “honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if these cookies send them straight to the toilet,” she says casually, chewing as wonbin turns to glare at her.

“yn.”wonbin’s voice is sharp, his gaze locked on her chocolate covered hand.

“what?” she mouths back silently, holding his stare like she did absolutely nothing wrong.

“should we, like… actually be giving these to them if that’s even a possibility?” jay asks, wiping the flour off his face, his tone genuinely concerned.

the three of them fall silent, staring at each other for a long, awkward moment as if they’re contemplating the true consequences of their actions.

finally, in perfect unison, they all shrug and say, “nah.”

the screen freezes on their unapologetic expressions, followed by the text “please do not look at these three as role models.”

“while we wait for the cookies to bake, we should probably clean up—cause, you know, we’re responsible people,” yn says to the camera about to take another handful of chocolate chips but wonbin slapped her hands away.

“we’re pretty good at cleaning, so this should go really fast,” jay chimes in, his voice way too upbeat for the situation.

the clip suddenly cuts to jay, who has just slipped on a patch of flour, falling flat on his back with a loud thud.

the camera holds on jay for a second, and then quickly pans to yn, who’s doubled over with laughter, clutching her stomach like she might pass out. she’s leaning against wonbin for support, but he’s torn—half of him is trying to figure out if jaehyun is okay, while the other half is quietly suppressing a laugh.

“jay?” wonbin asks, his face a mix of concern and disbelief, “you good?”

jaehyun groans from the floor, holding his head, weakly nodding.

yn, now bent over in laughter again, mutters between breaths, “I swear, you’re a walking disaster.”

“I think they look pretty good,” jay says confidently, looking over the batch of cookies as wonbin carefully carries the tray to the counter, like it’s the most precious thing in the world.

“but do they taste good?” yn asks skeptically, already reaching for one. she takes a bite, chews, and then immediately passes it to jaehyun. he takes a bite too, then hands it over to wonbin, who finishes off the last piece with a thoughtful look.

they all chew in silence, before looking at each in shock.

“...they actually taste good,” wonbin says slowly, as if trying to process the miracle that’s just occurred.

“woah.” jay says before reaching for another one.

“I’m in shock,” yn says, casually grabbing a couple more and walking off camera to give them to the staff.

she walks back into the camera while the three of them look at the staff with bright smiles while the staffs sounds of delighted hums are heard in the background.

“you hear that?” yn says, raising an eyebrow and grinning at the camera. “that’s the sound of them tasting heaven.”

“I’m excited to give these to our seniors.” jay says grabbing another cookie.

“I’m just shocked that they actually taste good,” wonbin admits, still staring down at the cookies like they’re a rare artifact. “like, no joke. this might be our best achievement yet.

“okay so, apparently red velvet, nct, aespa sunbaenim, are here today.” yn says to the camera as she’s casually perched on Jaehyun’s back, both of them walking into the building.

“they’re gonna get a real good taste of our cookies.” jay exaggerates.

“cookies that I’m still shocked came out so well,” wonbin adds.

the clip cuts to them walking into a room with one of the small boxes that has some of their cookies inside it.

the camera pans to mark and johnny who look at the group confused as they look at the camera.

“what’s going on?” mark asks, laughter lacing his voice. the trio’s antics have him on edge, he knows they’re never up to anything too simple.

“we made you guys cookies,” yn says with a cheeky grin, holding the box out to johnny, who eyes it with suspicion.

“did you guys put rat poison in it?” mark askes causing them to gasp in offence.

jay’s voice cuts in, “they taste good, I swear

“surprisingly good,” wonbin mutters, still looking at the cookies like they might spontaneously combust.

mark and johnny exchange a hesitant glance before each of them takes a cautious bite. the room falls into an expectant silence as they chew then both of them freeze. their eyes widen in shock.

“wait…” mark says, shaking his head in disbelief, trying to process the flavor.

“-that’s actually good.” johnny says going for another bite, “where did you guys buy this from cause no way you made it.”

“wowwwwww.” all three say in offence.

the clip cuts to the trio walking into the room, energetically singing red flavour at the top of their lungs, holding a small box of cookies.

seulgi laughs at the sight, clearly amused by the chaos unfolding in front of her, while the others watch in confusion. yn, still belting out the chorus, passes the box of cookies to yeri with a wink.

wendy eyes the box curiously as she opens it, staring at the cookies before turning her gaze back to the trio, who are still happily singing. "you guys made us cookies?" she asks, skepticism clear in her voice.

"It tastes good, we promise," yn says, trying to hold back her laughter. "even we are shocked." she walks over to seulgi and plops down on her lap, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "trust us."

the three red velvet members take a a cookie from the box and hesitantly take a bite.

there’s silence, before they all look at each other in shock.

"woah,” yeri breaks the silence, her eyes wide in surprise. she grabs another cookie with a grin, clearly impressed.

"that’s really good," wendy says, reaching for another one too. "I didn’t expect it to taste this good."

“we told you.” jay and wonbin say at the same time.

seulgi, still laughing at the unexpected success, raises an eyebrow. "they're actually really good. Who did you guys get to make them for you?" she asks, her voice dripping with playful curiosity.

thw entire room bursts into laughter, and yn, still comfortably in seulgi’s lap, winks mischievously. "we made them," she says with confidence . "from scratch."

the clip cuts to jay running into the room, attempting an impressive (but slightly uncoordinated) cartwheel. he lands with a dramatic stance , nearly knocking over a nearby table, while yn and wonbin follow closely behind, each holding a box of cookies

“special delivery.” jay says in a high pitched voice the room goes silent for a moment before the members burst into laughter, covering their mouths in shock at the chaotic entrance.

“what is going on?” giselle laughs, looking at the trio in disbelief, while yn quickly shoves the box into her hands.

“we made cookies.” wonbin says opening the lid, like it was a box of treasure, “from scratch, impressive right?”

ningning looks at the box warily. “I don’t know if I want to eat that...” she says, making winter giggle and nod in agreement.

karina, still processing the chaos, keeps her gaze fixed on yn, who stares back at her, unfazed. “just try it, it’s really good,” yn says, offering a reassuring smile

the girls exchange skeptical glances but cautiously pick up a cookie, all except karina, who’s still eyeing it suspiciously. yn, with a sigh of mock frustration, grabs the cookie from karina’s hand and pops it into her own mouth, causing the entire room to burst into laughter.

karina’s eyes widen, shocked by yn’s bold move, but her attention quickly shifts back to the cookie as she chews. one by one, the other girls’ expressions change from skepticism to surprise as they start to chew.

“this is really good,” ningning says, reaching for another cookie, her earlier doubts forgotten.

“no way you guys made this,” giselle shakes her head, still in shock, unable to believe it.

“better believe it.” jay said proudly.

karina, finally accepting the cookie’s legitimacy, watches yn and grabs another one. “thank you for shoving that cookie in my mouth,” she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “this is so good.” the room erupts in laughter, everyone enjoying karina’s playful tone

“no problem dude.” yn says nonchalantly causing karina to shoot her a scolding look.

the clip transitions to a new scene with bold, playful bubble letters reading “yn’s iphone” at the top of the screen. yn is lying on her bed, holding her phone in one hand while wonbin is next to her, both of them looking at the screen

“the cookies definitely tasted good,” yn starts,, “but everyone ate so much of them that, well… it did indeed send us to the toilet.” she glances at wonbin, who nods solemnly in agreement, his expression mock serious.

as if on cue, the sound of a toilet flushing is heard in the background, followed by jay’s voice shouting from the bathroom, “I regret everything!”

yn and wonbin exchange amused glances, trying to stifle their laughter. they burst out giggling, barely able to keep it together.

the video cuts abruptly, with both of them still laughing uncontrollably in the background.

[suguru-getos]

| Bully! Gojo Satoru x F!Reader | Part 1 |

Summary: You had just transferred schools, and your first day was an encounter with your new bully. He’s mean, terrifically hot & absolutely a menace. Though there’s more to that personna.

Warnings: Mean!Satoru, he calls the reader worthless, public!humiliation. Etc. The reader ain’t no pussy either by the way. They fight back.

New chapter every week | Comment down if you want to be tagged. ^^

First day of school, High-school… you had jitters and excitement both, just thinking about it. When your alarm beeped, you couldn’t help but smile at the thought alone. Quickly rushing to the rest-room, washing your face, brushing your teeth, doing your skincare & taking your sweet time thinking about how your first day of school would be.

Your parents, thankfully have recently shifted to Tokyo, you don’t really have any bad memories from where you lived previously, and assuming the best should be the solution to everything in life, right? You had picked what to wear previously, knee length socks on a mini tennis skorts, patched up with a white full T-shirt with gloves for your thumb.

You rushed downstairs for breakfast, sitting with your family & then quickly rushing out. Your mom small talked about your excitement along with your brother, you nodded, grinning wide. “Yeah, yeah… really am excited!” You chirped, getting all the makeup essentials and school essentials ready in your bag.

Once you were out and about, reaching the highschool premises on time. You were awestruck, there were people swarming all over. Focussed on what they’re wearing, focussed on exclusive friend-groups, some of them were vlogging, some of them patting face powder on their faces. Oh damn… they were just being problematic it seemed. You weren’t close to being a conventional teen at all, not that you weren’t a teen at all. You hummed, managing to diverse your attention towards the highschool building, it was huge. So many people, so much…

“Oop- sorry” you bumped into someone… tall. Eyes traversing through his form as he looked down at you, nudging his black glasses down and smirking. Oh fucking hell… he had the prettiest blue eyes you had ever seen. The way he smirked, looking at you as if you’re a tiny, minuscule creature at his mercy. You weren’t used to that kind of a gaze at all. “Your name?” He said as if he’s conquered you. You hate people who talk like that.

Taken aback and batting your lashes at him, you mumbled… “Y/N.”

He smirked, licking his lips with his teeth. “Satoru Gojo, your senior. My dad’s a trustee of this school & I am pretty much the second owner.” He leaned in, bending over to get to your eye level as you cowered at the weird vibe & introduction. “Say sorry that you bumped into me.” He smirked, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.

“It was by mistake — I don’t see why I should say sorry to you.” You managed to speak clearly, ensuring you were polite. The people/minions surrounding him laughed at your audacity. No one tells him shit. This was something new… apart from Suguru Geto; his best friend. Satoru Gojo’s words were the law. He has no problem beating the shit out of people who don’t listen. There’s a rumor that because of him, someone had tried to commit suicide. Just because Satoru didn’t like them, so… nobody else did.

Satoru raised a brow, smirking. “Ah, you’re new. I’ll let this one go. Let me rephrase, okay sweetheart?” He leaned in, hand touching your face with one hand. “C’mon, use that worthless mouth for something good & say sorry. Right. Now.” His jaw twitched, the hold not tender in any way. You flinched, why was no one stopping him! Where were the bloody teachers! Your pupils vibrated as you glanced at his blue eyes. You want to tell him to piss off so bad. Yet, you can’t really do that because of the way he’s puckered your lips up. Neither can you apologize.

“Can’t speak?” He shook your face to a nod, getting his own answers, while you groaned. Red hot embarrassment flushing on your cheeks. “Are you a little dumb bitch?” He forced a nod again, everyone laughing. “Aww, I know you are. So honest.” He chuckled, just having a little fun out of you. Frankly, he never knew why he was so mean… or just stomping everyone. Maybe he has this inherent habit of being worshipped & a problematic intolerance towards people who don’t.

Your eyes prickled with tears, and he finally let your face go, a little push to his hold. “Should’ve just apologized, don’t like bein’ mean to pretty girls.” He winked, walking away.

You felt daggered by multiple, hot & burning judgemental gazes around. Kudos to your first day of Highschool. You excused yourself to the rest-room. You needed a breather… and you wanted to cry, and kill him…

“That was a little too much.” Geto hummed, walking alongside him with his usual close-eyed smirk. Satoru waved his hand dismissively. “Eh, her eyes were so rebellious I hated that.” He growled, scoffing. It was true… but you didn’t know how much that’ll land you in trouble in future.

The class was good, teachers yapping and teaching & you taking notes was the perfect scenario for you to distract yourself. Then, came lunch time.

There was a pink-haired girl, gorgeous and happy-go-lucky looking… you decided to approach her and wave. “Oh hey!” She glanced at you and smiled. “Hey! You must be the girl who pissed Gojo senpai off.” She chuckled, though you sense no malice in her tone. Wow, so that’s become your new identity eh? You hate this… “yeah, Haha… that’d be me.” You decided to own that, “I was thinking if you wanna join me for, uh, lunch?” You perked up a little. You were upfront enough to ask a few others and they decided to have lunch with you.

You hate eating alone, and you were one of the new folks. The others just got promoted so it was hard to mingle. Luckily, your confidence might help.

You took your food, and walked back to the table, this time… someone again collided with you. The gravy of the food spilled all across their crisp white shirt.

“Oh shit oh I’m so sorry-” you looked up to find the familiar face who waxed you this morning. Did he collide with you on purpose? You definitely think so because you’re not so air-headed.

“Oh you just want to be an idiot all day huh?” Satoru sighed, one of the girls glaring at you and brining out a tissue, inching to clean him up. “Did I ask for that help sweetheart?” He smiled at her, indicating her to stop touching him. “Think you’ll earn brownie points and be popular?” He didn’t stop until she fully backed off, cleaning himself up.

It was like everyone had only one job, glancing at you two & waiting for you to suffer. Fucking hell!

“So, do you know how much this shit costs?” Satoru smirked, walking closer to you, you instinctively stepped backwards. “N-no I’m sorry I just didn’t think- it also felt like you bumped into me on purpose-”

“On purpose?” There was a chuckle laced with disbelief on his lips. “That’s too high and mighty of you to think. I don’t even let girls who look like you grind on my shoe, honey.” He emphasized, slapping your delusion. Or you can say, shoving the truth away.

People didn’t laugh this time, because Satoru looked genuinely pissed. Well, so were you. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” You held your plate close and purposely, drenched him even further in gravy. “Looks just as filthy as you deserve.” You teared up, gosh this was humiliating. “And by the way, I don’t even look at guys like you either. Who think the world revolves around them because mommy & daddy just stuffed their ass with money.”

You walked away with that… but was that the right thing to do? You just dug your grave deeper.

[netmors]

STAR WARS: Eleventh Fleet AU

Hey-hey, I worked, caught a cold, got sick and that’s enough… …so, concept art for the Eleventh Fleet.

Ar'alani and Vah'nya's designs are fairly simple, but the problem with them in particular, and the Chiss in general, is their clothing and style. There are many official references, including those from Legends, but each artist still has his own vision regarding, for example, the shape of the fleet. Somewhere there is a strong homage to the design from the old canon, somewhere it was modernized, and in the latter they added the same “honor's chains”, which look a little strange on the laconic form. It seems to be in the Chiss style, but very impractical.

As a result, I am reworking the design of the expansion and defense fleet uniform, but more on that another time. Let's return to Ar'alani and Vah'nya.

At the beginning of the events of the "Eleventh Fleet", Senior General Ar'alani on his flagship "Vigilant" is increasingly confronted with the Grysks. A year will pass since her last meeting with Thrawn, when the invaders of the Ascendency space will openly attack the Chiss ships.

Such cat and mouse would continue for another year until the disappearance of another Night Dragon class war cruiser, subsequently leading to disaster in the heart of the Chiss Ascendancy. The Senior General will be one of the few superiors who, along with Ba'kif, can survive. Much of this will be down to Vanto and Ronan - unaccounted for variables in the Grysk's plans. The trust placed in Thrawn's "alien protégés" paid off in full.

The Senior General was often accompanied by Senior Navigator Vah'nya. "Vigilant" almost always accepted missions to search for missing navigators. Vah'nya not only guided the ship through the stars and darkness of outer space, but she was much better at rehabilitating rescued navigators, as well as leading the other navigators on the ship. Friendship with Eli played an important role in this.

Because of her "anomaly" as a Navigator who hasn't lost her powers into adulthood, many of the regulations and rules simply don't work for Vah'nya the way they do for other girls. And to be an “anomaly” for Sindikure is a very subtle walking on the edge of a charrik. And yet, to the dissatisfaction of some aristocrats and syndics, the girl manages to balance on it for quite a long time.

+ bonus Ba'kif timeline concept art.

Because I’m not entirely sure that I’m right, but I really wanted to think about what this gorgeous grandpa would have looked like during the Thrawn. Ascendency Trilogy. And I also reworked his “chains” and other form elements quite a bit. And yes, I’m more than sure that Thrawn adopted Ba'kif’s “style” in his time.

[angelisverba]

achilles heel

in which y/n gets herself into another precarious situation and wants her dealer to help her, and harry can’t help but feel conflicted about how much he wants her

read part one here

word count: 14k

pairing: plug!h and y/n

warning: bad trip! peer pressure, drug coercion, drugs, mentions of bullying, sexual content!

author’s note: there aren’t any facts to back up the use of any kind of sexual enhancers, so much of this experience is improvised and not actually something that would happen irl in terms of science. love you! 

Two slow, torturously long weeks pass- one in which he was out of business entirely trying to stock his inventory up again- before he hears from her again. In the middle of the night, it’s beginning to become a pattern for them. He only hopes that this time, it’s not for an asshole group of people.

His bohemian dream of a room is upturned, messy, as he’s been a grump about not seeing her. There’s shirts strewn everywhere, his bed is a rumpled mess and he wishes that it were because he had sex in it instead of restlessly sleeping. He’s coming out of the shower with a white towel low on his hips. There are clouds of thick steam coming out from his open bathroom door and while a majority is from the hot water he hoped would soothe his tense body, there's a bit of thicker, headier smoke from the skinny spliff he hotboxed while in the tub. 

And it hadn’t worked for shit. Because he was still cranky, still restless. His fingers were itching to do something, and if he hadn’t just smoked weed, he would be in his garage, throwing around weights like a madman to try and get himself tired. Sadly, he wasn’t even fucking horny, so jerking off wasn’t an option. 

Sidestepping his sweatpants by the edge of his bed, Harry grips the thick of the fabric at his crotch and reaches for a pair of clean underwear from a drawer at his bedside table, furrows his eyebrows at the box of condoms stashed in there, and pull on white boxers. He throws the towel at the end of his bed and lays back with his arms splayed wide, sighing dramatically. He felt deeply sorry for himself. 

Y/n was probably never going to talk to him again because the last few times they had seen each other, Harry was a complete dick to her, acting every bit like the asshole drug dealer that had a criminal reputation. God, the girl was probably scared of him. He fucked his all-

Ping!

This phone went off with a notification. The same tone he had assigned her, and Harry’s body lurched off the bed. His arms swept the expanse of his bed, ruffling his duvet in search of the device. 

Ping!

It went off again, and the urgency in which he was searching increased. Where the fuck was his-

He found it when it thunked onto the floor, and with shaking hands, he unlocked it. 

Y/n: Hi, Harry! 

Are you available for delivery at the moment?

Of course he is. Always, for her. But he didn’t type that back, obviously. He had to be cool.

Harry: I am. What can I get you?

The gray dots appear instantly, and he gets another text shortly after. 

Y/n: Do you have any brownies?

He had been to a frat party earlier in the day in which a group of senior guys had taken some pot brownies off his hands. Before confirming with her, he double-checks his inventory on the notes app folder  he has just to keep track of stock. 

Harry: I have half a dozen left tonight

Should he have added a smiley face? No, that would have been creepy right?.... 

Y/n: Perfect :D ! I’ll take five, please! 

Harry: No problem. Can I have the address, please?

She sends it not even a minute later. All concerns regarding driving a vehicle while high unethically fly out of his mind because honestly, he wasn’t even high anymore. Not even feeling it. She was only twenty minutes away, ten if he didn’t pay attention to laws.

Harry: I’m On my way! 

Y/n: See you soon!

Yeah, fuck the laws.

***

He makes it in 8 minutes. 

And something about this house doesn’t feel right. 

He didn’t realize it until the houses started looking nice and the parked cars on the side of the street started getting more expensive than the address she had provided him with was one on the wealthier side of town. He knew of a guy that lived here who everyone talked about because his method of acquiring money was sketchier than Harry’s, and well… that said a lot given that Harry sold drugs for a living.

The end of the driveway that he parks on is wide enough to be a two-way street. One of the lights flickered on by the motion sensor as Harry took his helmet out and shook his hair back. In his rush to get here, he hadn’t put on a shirt, and with his leather jacket left unzipped, his tattoos were on full display. The moonlight gleamed on the ridges of his abdomen, casting shadows across the markings on his skin. He was warm despite the chill in the air, and the cool drift of the night wind on his muscles was a welcome feeling. 

Harry just didn’t realize how… devilish he looked. He appeared every bit the bad boy ready to sweep you off your feet in the summer, and the serious expression on his face added to the mystery. Wondering if this time she was able to hear his motorcycle from deep inside wherever she was in that mansion of the house, Harry kicked his stand down, hung his helmet on the handlebar, and took his phone out to let her know he was here.

Harry: I’m outside

Grey bubbles pop-up, squiggling like a little wave. And then…

Y/n: Be right there!

All of the breath in his lungs vacates his chest, and he gets warmer than he already was. Pacing the short lengths of his motorcycle, he wonders how he may get more nervous to see her every time he sees her. He never used to be this way, not even with a girl he wanted to talk up at a bar. There was a confidence within him, this shine that sprouted from knowing that he knew he was the shit, and he was going to use that to his advantage, to make a girl blush and stutter. Instead, she was the one to turn him inside out. He forgot all about basic manners around her. He forgot how to smile without questioning if his smile was wonky. He thought-

“Hi, Harry!”

He thought she looked so fucking sexy tonight. 

Coming from the front door, y/n is a wispy, gauzy mirage. Her feet are wobbly, and there’s a glass tumbler in her hand with a toothpick-skewered olive. She’s smiling so brightly at him, and this unrestricted happiness at his appearance alarms him. Where is the timid girl who speaks to him with a voice barely above a whisper? She must be drunk he thinks. 

An itchy feeling he can’t shake off overcomes him because the girl is wearing a lacy slip dress that is so sheer, he can see her pink undergarments underneath. A white cardigan slides off her shoulders and hangs on to her elbow like a satin bow slipping loosely from a gift. He can’t decide if he wants to tie her back up or unravel her. 

She runs the last few steps to him, and either she miscalculates her stop, or trips on a pebble because suddenly, she’s in his arms and he’s holding her upright. And he’s also breathing heavily because a rush of blood has made its way down to his cock and he knows she can see it pressing through his jeans and against her belly if the way her eyes go round is any indication. 

Her drink slips from her hand, and shatters at their feet. The loud scattering of glass makes her jump, and an apology is clumsily stumbling from her mouth while she tries to pull herself from his embrace. Harry, however, tightens his hold. His fingers squeeze at her waist, and through the lace of her dress, he can feel the overlapping fabric of her panties. Without saying anything, he lifts her and takes a few steps to the side before setting her down away from the hazard. 

“What-” her brows furrow, and her head tilts to the side. She isn’t rushing out of his arms now.

Interrupting her, Harry explains, “y’were about to step on the glass.” 

“Oh,” y/n is back to whispering as her eyes travel all over his face, “thank you.”

With her in his arms, Harry has forgotten how to act. His mind is blank as a sheet of paper, and his lungs are expanding and contracting but oxygen isn’t really reaching him because he smells something sweet combined with alcohol on her warm breath. He sees how y/n’s facial expressions resemble that of a guppy fish, and he realizes that maybe he should let her go but he can’t because… because her fingers are shifting around his arms and she’s kind of shifting her weight and writhing and Harry still has a fucking boner so this is all-

He steps back, observing her shiver, and clears his throat. “Of course. Are you…are you cold?”

“Cold?” she asks. Her voice is silvery like the incantation of a church bell and he wants to fall to his knees are revere her, to beg for forgiveness, for her to cleanse him of all his sins. The night air has turned him into some kind of animal, he decides. The moon has transformed him into the hungry, howling wolf who will only be silenced by knowing her in the most carnal way. Meeting under the blanket of darkness has decided their fate. 

“You’re shivering,” he states, voices unwavering and factual. That confidence he was missing before has somehow found its way back. Like tectonic plates, the tension has shifted in his favor. Harry gathers the courage to fix the cardigan on her shoulders. 

His hands graze the cool skin of her biceps, and he doesn’t miss the way she textures with evidence of her intimidation. The way her breath stops altogether and he mumbles under his breath, “Just fixing y’up, darling. Y’can breathe, m’not gonna bite,” and she drops her arms at her side to let him help her, and then…

He feels the thin, sharp glide of her fingernails at his sternum. How can a single touch be so erotic? His jeans are too tight over his bulge, and fighting a groan, he exhales deeply, looking up at her to find her eyes droopy, staring at his butterfly tattoo. Her mouth moves around the shape of pretty before her eyes flicker up at him. They both freeze. Prey and predator, caught before the deadly pounce. 

But y/n breaks their eye contact. 

Harry drags the fabric up so it sits properly on her shoulders, and slides his fingers down to the front, so he can begin with the first button. His fingers drag unnecessarily like syrup on the skin right above her slip, and her audible gulp along with her choked, thank you check him back into his manners. She might have toyed with him, albeit unknowingly, but he welcomed it. He doubted that she was 100% sure if she wanted that reciprocated, so he stopped. As much as it hurt him to do so, he stopped.

At the last button, he reluctantly steps back, “All done, don’t want to get sick now, do you?” 

And he manages a smile. It’s small, with just a bit of a cocky gap between his lips to white teeth. His hands slip into his front pockets, pulling his jeans forward subtly to give his dick some breathing room. He feels branded where she touched him, that sliver of skin hot with burning desire. Visions of them together flash behind his eyes like bits of a dream he’s trying hard to remember.

“You’re right,” she mumbles, “thank you.” Y/n wraps her arm around herself and can't seem to make eye contact with him.

The rational side of him that’s drowning in his tunnel vision reminds him that he’s there to do something (deliver drugs), so he moves around to the compartment and pulls out the paper bag. This time, it’s decorated in a field of smiling, dancing daisies sprouting from the bottom of the bag. “Here are your brownies,” giving her the bag, he laments that he’s going to have to leave her soon. 

“How much do I owe you?” Y/n blinks up at him like she’s just barely waking up. Like she’s trying hard to stay focused, just like him. But that would be silly, Harry thinks, because there’s no way they share the same feelings. She only touched him because she’s drunk, or tipsy, and he’s just a drug dealer, and no matter how much of a boner he has for her, his dreams of rutting over her like a dog in heat aren’t going to come true. She’s too delicate for him.

He feels shitty taking money from her, but that is his livelihood, and chances were the douchebags buying from her probably threw more money at her than necessary given how rich they were. So, he tells her the total, and he hands him- just like he expected- crisp bills.

“Thank you,” he says, taking the money from her and shoving it into his compartment. His legs make no move to straddle his bike, even though that’s what his brain tells them to do. They’re not really listening to him though. And y/n stands them holding the bag, staring at the shattered glass and worrying her lip between her teeth. She’s not in any rush to get back inside, so Harry asks her a question- something that’s been on his mind ever since he left her the last time- to keep her out a little longer, “h-how was it? Last time, I mean. Smoking with those people?”

The girl straightens at the memory, suddenly energized. “Oh! I didn’t actually do it. They tried to get me to, but I didn’t in the end.” 

Jerking his chin towards the bag in her hand, “Do y’plan on eating some of these?” 

Y/n shakes her head, “Not really, I have work tomorrow. So does everyone else but,” she shrugs, pursing her lips a little and looks over her shoulder at the house. The relatively quiet house. “I already drank a little more than I should have.” 

“I see.” Nodding, he’s left with no other choice but to reach for his helmet to put it back on. It’s time to leave. For the life of him, he can’t seem to figure out why such a sweet girl would continue to choose to hang out with people like this. Who drink and do drugs recklessly. He was concerned for her safety, and he made a mental note to ask Mitch about it. He wasn’t anyone to tell her what to do. 

He wishes he were, but he wasn’t. 

“Well, be safe, okay? Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Harry. I’ll see you,” and she waves at him with a small, shy smile. The cardigan is already slipping off her shoulder even though it was buttoned up, and she turns around to walk back into the house.

Harry’s finally gotten to dozing off when his phone rings. 

Blindly, he slaps his hand around and curses whoever is on the other end of the line for interrupting his maladaptive dreaming about y/n. He got home grumpy, slamming doors behind him and stomping around his own home. Feeling sorry for himself, he had turned on his Sade playlist and allowed her smoky voice to lull him to sleep. Creases had decorated the space between his thick brows, his pink lips literally turned upside down and occasionally he mumbled curse words at himself. In effort to relieve his own stress, he turned on a lavender candle, and it burned dimly on his bedside. 

“Yeah?” He rasps sleepily into the phone, annoyance dripping from his voice. 

There’s a couple of sniffles on the other end. This gets his attention, his eyes snapping open as his ears strain to listen, and then, “H-Harry?” 

Was he still dreaming? Harry bolted upright from his bed, dragging a hand over his face. Was that actually y/n’s weepy, crying voice leaking through his speaker? He recognized the normally sweet voice, but instead of shy and timid, it was shaky and sad… maybe even a little panicked. 

“Y/n?” Harry asked, spiking up in volume as a million-and-one scenario of her in danger played out in his mind. “What’s wrong?” 

She hiccuped, “I-I was- Everyone was- They gave me a piece and said I should- But I didn’t want to and they- I don’t-” The poor girl was making no sense, and couldn’t seem to keep track of her thoughts, whether it be because she was too frazzled, or her irregular sobs stole the rest of her sentences and she would start new. The fact that he has just woken up, remnants of sleep leaving him more and more by the second, didn’t help either. He had to get her to calm down somehow. 

“Sweetheart,” He interjected, repeating the endearment twice before she stopped talking long enough for him to get his word in. “ Listen to me… Take a deep breath, listen to my voice.” 

Y/n made a long, keening noise, and something stirred his gut like the whirls of dark waters in turbulent seas. This wasn’t normal. She wasn’t herself, which only left one thing, “I’m trying but my skin feels weird and-” 

She was having a bad trip. 

Those fuckers have coerced her into taking something, whether it be the brownies he sold her, or some other drugs they had in the house. Y/n had taken drugs against her will, and she was stuck in a place where she didn’t feel entirely comfortable with anyone there because these were the same people that bullied her at her workplace. The situation she was in, and the simple fact that they did not respect when she said no made his blood boil. He felt like a caged cat, pacing back and forth, tail swiping low on the ground. 

But his next thought cowed him.

If the drugs she had consumed were his brownies, did that mean he was partially to blame? He was responsible for there being something to press on her, to begin with, wasn’t he? He delivered them into her hands, which she then transferred to her party, and they turned it around on her. Harry was at the start of all of this. 

He sat up, and ran his hand through his hair, swallowing back the sour taste that started at the back of his mouth and twisted his chest. Pushing all of it aside, he focused on her, “I know darling, I know. Close y’eyes. S’gonna be okay, y/n. Close your eyes.”

Rough, uneven breaths reverberated through his speaker, and he realized she was trying to calm herself. Harry wanted to scream and punch something. This is his fault. She was having a bad trip because of him. There were times when he was feeling generous and upped the milligram ingredient in his pastries, and he can’t remember if he did that this time but regardless, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt he’s ever felt this guilty. He could have said no, when she texted him. Or not respond at all. But he was selfish and wanted to see her. This is where his selfishness got him.

“M’kay.” She responds a little more sure, but it isn’t enough for him. He started this mess, now he has to fix it. He gets out of bed again, in such a rush that his duvet ends up strewn on the floor, and he reaches to tug his recklessly discarded jeans over his long legs. He yanks a burgundy knit sweater that he finds- also on the floor- but he’s not cold. He’s sweating with anxiety, and the sweater was just for her benefit. What if y/n is cold again? Harry has to be better not, he can’t fuck up with her anymore like this. He was going to take it off again as soon as he saw her and be shirtless again with his leather jacket. 

 With the device pressed between his shoulder and ear, he buttoned up his pants and shoves his feet into the first pair of shoes he found, “Y’got your eyes closed f’me?”

“Yes, Harry,” she whimpers again, sounding so unsure, so small, and fuck, the crack down the middle of his heart grows. Closing your eyes while high was scary, especially if you were having a bad trip, Harry knows that having a handful of negative experiences himself, but it was the one thing he could think of right now. To get her to focus on his voice rather than anything going on around her. Wherever she was. 

“Good girl. Now just listen to me, okay,” walking out of his room, he swiped his keys off his kitchen counter, and snagged his leather jacket from -surprise, surprise- off the floor right before entering the garage, “Where are you right now?”

“I’m… I think I’m in a bathroom,” y/n peeps a response. 

“Alright, good. Good, sweetheart. Now how much did you take?” Putting the jacket on, Harry turns the key in the ignition and straddles his bike. He presses the button he keeps on his keys for the garage door, and walks his bike out. The street lamps in his neighborhood are on, illuminating patches of the concrete like polka dots. 

There’s some noise in the background. It sounds like knocking and the call of her name. “M’not sure… maybe… maybe half? They’re knocking on the door, Harry.” 

She’s so scared. For the first time, he realizes that she doesn’t trust anyone there. That’s why she was calling him. If there was, she would be resting her head in their lap, and talking things out with them. That’s what you do when you’re high. And this was her first fucking time doing any kind of drug? They made her take more than what she was supposed to. 

“All at once? Don’t listen to them, sweetheart, focus on me.” This time, the timbre of his voice is livid. He didn’t take kindly to these kinds of things, and he was going to find some way to get back at all of them. 

“Yeah, I took a bite only but Alana said I would be a party pooper if I didn’t eat more, so I did because everyone was watching.” There’s more noise, yelling. The knocking gets louder.

“Fuck!” Slapping his hand against his helmet, Harry tilts his head back and wills himself to calm down. He couldn’t drive like this. 

She gasps, startled, “Did I do something wrong? Oh my God, am I going to die? Harry, am I-”

“Shh, no. No, y/n. Everything is going to be fine. I’m on my way, okay. Everything is going to be fine. Can you set a timer for eight minutes on your phone, and walk outside when it rings?” He nears the end of his driveway, shaking his head at his lack of restraint. He had to hold it together for her.

“Yeah,” she responds.

“Perfect, I’ll be right there. I’m coming to get you, okay?” He’s firm in his delivery, so she doesn’t have any reason to doubt him. 

“Okay…” her single-word answer drags out, and he waits for her to say more. “Do you have to hang up?”

“I do, darling. My motorcycle helmet doesn’t have a Bluetooth mouthpiece, so I won’t be able to hear you. It’s only eight minutes, I promise.” He decides not to pay attention to how easily the endearment terms are rolling off his tongue, and to the sure-ness in his sternum that was missing at the start of their meetings. 

“Alright. Bye, Harry.” 

He doesn’t say bye, because it isn’t one. “I’ll see you in a little bit.” 

***

On his five (FIVE!!!) minute drive to y/n, full of felonies and annoyed car horns, Harry decides two things. One, owning a motorcycle is probably the best decision he’s ever made because it allows him to do things like this, and two, he’s come to the conclusion that he no longer cares for social formalities, and he’s going to… honor his cravings as long as y/n lets him. He knows that the moment he gets there, he’s going to want to coddle her, tug her to his side, and hide her inside his jacket as much as he could, like a bear with food in the winter. Besides, it wouldn’t be so bad to provide the feeling of safety if she needed it. In fact, he was eager to. He decides that just for today, it’s okay. 

Because he gets there three minutes earlier than the time he told her, so even though he doesn’t have to, he rushes to park his bike, swinging off of it before it’s even rolled to a complete stop and jogging up the long driveway to wait by some bushes near the window. He was partially obscured from the front door, and he wanted to stay that way in case Y/n wasn’t the first person to walk out. 

Sweat coated the back of his neck while the rest of him was ice cold. Looking each and every way, he took off his jacket and slipped off the knit sweater to slip it over her head as soon as he could. Harry listened intently, the ragged sound of his own breathing filling his ears as he tried to pick up on any noise that might indicate trouble, but all he heard was faint chattering and the occasional bout of loud, loopy chortles. 

Momentarily after, those voices get louder, some of them aggressive, and there are sounds of movement. The heavy pattern of feet moving quickly, the scratch of furniture on the floor. Someone- a female- is asking where someone is going, and Harry knows it’s y/n. Running to the door, he makes it just as it swings open, and a very red-eyed y/n stands there, one hand on the door with her eyes on the floor. She’s mumbling, something over and over, and he thinks one of those words is his name. 

He’s reaching out to encase her in his arms when she blinks a few times, slowly, like she's just waking up, and her eyes are dragging up her body to register his face. 

Tilting her head to the side confusedly, she steps out, closes the door behind her, and mumbles, “Harry’s waiting for me.” 

His heart melts and he feels the bursting of a thousand suns in his chest. Smiling down at her invertebrate state, with his eyes softening and a gentle caramel-like baritone streaming through the rough in his voice, “I’m here, darling. Come with me.” 

Poor thing is so out of it, her eyes start to water, her chin trembling and her shoulders beginning to shake with the rattles of oncoming sobs. Had he spooked her? Her eyes were puffy and hooded, but he knows that doesn’t mean she can’t see him. Y/n is probably just overwhelmed, he thinks. She’s out in the dark and cold, high, and he’s a tall, scary figure looming over her. Voices inside are getting closer, their sentences running over each other so that he can’t really understand what they’re saying, only that they sound upset. 

Ignoring the rumble that is bound to get to them, Harry kneels down to her level and takes hold of her cold trembling hands in his large ones, bringing them to his chest to get her to focus on him, “lovie, s’me,” he pleads for her to recognize him, “I’m Harry, I came f’you like I said I would, y/n.” 

“Y/n!” A man inside, short and skinny but snooty looking with a sharp, shark-like face stalks towards them. His parade of three- two blonde girls and a dark-haired guy- follow behind him. They all have glasses in their hands. One of them had a cigarette. “What are you doing?”

At the sound of her name, y/n’s eyes shut tightly, and her chest rises quickly with sharp breaths that escape her mouth. Dropping her head, a long whine seeps away from her like a sticky substance, and Harry wants to wipe it all away. He’s not sure why he’s reacting this way, or what he should do to help her, because he’s had bad trips but they’ve all been hallucinogen-based.

“Baby-” 

“Y/n” the asshole with the dark hair calls her name so arrogantly, Harry can’t help but wonder what they’re like sober, “who is that? Will you come back inside? We’re about to start playing pass-blow.” 

They’ve interrupted him twice now, and with every second that passes, he gets huffier. Frustrated. Angry. Because he’s just trying to talk to this angel and they’re overwhelming her. Y/n is whimpering now, her hands moist in his, and she’s sniffling every few seconds. 

“Y/n,” he tries again to get her to look at him, to say something. He doesn’t want to act inappropriately, and with her consent already being disregarded once tonight, he’s doing everything in his power to get her to speak what she wants. 

With glassy eyes, y/n dazedly stared at him for a moment. Her expression was stuck between confusion and sadness, her lips downturned and her brows furrowed, “Wanna leave, H.” 

Harry nodded at her, “Okay, we can leave.” Then he stood up and grabbed the sweater over his shoulder, “Put this on first, lovie. It’s cold.” Slipping it over her head and helping her stick her arms through, he tugged it all the way down, near to her knees, all the while ignoring the group that started and whispered behind her. When he was done, he pulled her under his arm and walked in the direction of his bike. 

All of two seconds passed before an agitating, grating voice interrupted them, “Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” 

Harry can’t take it anymore. Placing his hand at the back of her head to cup her to his chest while he turns around to spit out a response at this douchebag, he takes deep breaths and tries to focus on her comfort. He tries to focus on the warmth of her breath against his chest and the way one hand is wrapped around his wrist, her fingers drawing loose circles on the tender skin, and the other is clutching his shirt tightly. But he feels that he has to say something, in some weird ‘marking my territory’ kind of way.

“Fuck off, asshole! You’re not getting shit from me anymore,” Y/n jumps in his arms at the tone and volume of his voice, and the wimp shrinks back, too. He mumbles something about it ‘not being fair’ like a whiny child and turns around. Harry gently removes her hand from his wrist so he can wrap it around her shoulders, and starts walking down the pathway back to his motorcycle, whispering, “C’mon baby, walk with me. Do you want me to take you somewhere? I can call an Uber? Sarah’s house? We can go back to my place, too. Y’name it, love, I’ll do it for you.” 

“Okay.” If she’s surprised at his sudden softening, she doesn’t show it. Hell, she’s probably too out of it to do anything but appreciate anyone that is considerate to her current state, given that she was hanging around assholes who were making fun of her while she was having a bad trip. 

They reach his bike, and Harry guides her by her shoulders to sit with her butt on the side of his seat. He crouches down in front of her, and wraps his hand on the back of her shins, grasping firmly to give her some kind of sensation to ground herself on. The loopy look in her eye that was there when he first arrived has drifted away like mist in a breeze, and she’s looking at him a bit more clearly. 

“You still doing okay?” He asks, trying to catch her eyes but y/n is fiddling with her fingers and looks a little… frustrated? “Y/n? Can you tell me what you want to do, love?”

“M’sorry,” Her lower lip wobbles and there’s a small tremble in her chin. Her eyes, when she finally finds his, are watery, and it makes Harry’s heart pinch. He wants to hold her until she’s okay. “I know we don’t know each other that well, but can we... go back to your place?”

He rises then and cups her face in his hands to ensure that she’s looking at him. A little voice in his head is telling him that he’s being too touchy and needs to tone it down, but y/n can’t seem to keep her hands off him. His elbows are warmed through his jacket by her nimble fingers. 

Cooing at her almost, “Hey, s’kay. Y/n okay. No crying, alright? I’m happy that I could be here to help you, okay? Of course, we can go back to my place, as long as you’re cool with it. Are you comfortable riding on my motorcycle right now? I can order an uber if you aren’t.”

 “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” Nodding, she sniffles and looks into his eyes finally. They sparkle underneath the light, like stars are trapped in her pupils, and the sight takes his breath away. She’s still whispering, but it’s no longer as panicked and short. It might just be the brownies wearing off, or her high calming down. 

“Right, then.” Before letting go of her sweet face, he swipes his thumbs along the apples of her cheeks in a soothing motion. He walks around to the back of his bike and unlocks the compartment to take out a spare helmet. Holding it up, he gestures for her to tilt her head towards him, “safety first.” 

“Your eyes are pretty. Like that thing that makes Superman weak.”  

“Kryptonite, baby?” He secures the helmet on her head and makes sure it fits by tilting her head this way and that to check for wiggle room. When he’s satisfied, he raises the glass panel and murmurs, “and yours are prettier than mine.”

“Mhm,” she blinks blearily up at him, and his heart expands three times its size in his chest.  “And you really think so?” 

“I know so.” They share a small smile, and Harry’s nose is pink from the cold and the warmth of her gaze. He swings a leg over to straddle his bike, and scoots forward to make space for her, and pats the seat behind him.  “Come sit behind me, love.” 

Y/n grabs the hand that he holds out for her, and clumsily takes the seat. 

“Now hold on to me. Hands around my waist,” There’s a strange pitch in his voice, and he has to clear his throat before speaking. Y/n listens to every word he says and places her hands on his waist so lightly, they might as well not even be there. The touch, as innocent as it might be, makes him squirm, and to hide it, he grabs them, and brings them around so she can splash her own fingers at his belly button. “Tighter, sweetheart. I don’t want you to slip off. If you don’t want to see, you can press your face into my neck, okay.” 

“Okay,” she peeps. Harry pats her hands and turns his key in the ignition. 

“Ready?” With his ankle, he kicks the stand up, and looks over his shoulder to check in on her. The muscles in his stomach are doing a strange tightening and flexing because they don’t know how to act normally under her touch.

“Yes.” 

She squeezes her arms tightly around his waist, and she can feel her face pressing into his back as he starts his engine to take her home.

*** 

“Who were those people?” 

It seemed as though removing her from the situation (Harry hates even thinking about the word because it wasn’t a situation, it was a fucking catastrophe that the poor little thing had to go through what she did) had been the best thing to do. From the looks of it, y/n was having a pretty normal high now, asking him if he had anything to snack on that was sweet and tart because she was hungry and her mouth was dry. 

He kept himself well stocked on berries and fruit for this exact reason, so while he stood at the aisle in the middle of his kitchen cutting strawberries into nifty little hearts and tossing them into a bowl with freshly rinsed raspberries and blueberries, y/n sat on the barstool, watching him and humming a little tune. She was much different from the way she had been fifteen minutes ago, when they had just walked into his house, blubbering about how she was so sorry that he was losing sleep because of her, and how she still didn’t feel right. It took ten minutes of holding her in his lap on the couch (he still felt overly warm at having her so close to him),  shushing and cooing at her, letting her know that everything was alright while stroking her hair, and another three before she stopped crying, and let him know he had a nice voice that tickled her spine and that she had the munchies. 

Not that she called them that, of course. Harry doesn’t think she had ever heard the term, given how she knows fuck all about drugs and being high, just said “I’m hungry, h. Do you have anything tart and sweet? It feels like there’s a dragon in my belly.” 

So he chucked, rubbed her back as he slipped her onto the spot next to him, and let her know that he had just the thing, and that he would be right back. But that didn’t stop her from trailing behind him like a duckling imprinted on her new human, pitter-pattering all over his tiled floor.

He hopes that she doesn’t feel like he’s prying, because while he was curious to know what compelled her to keep that kind of company, he wanted to know anything about her. This just seemed like a good segway into her. 

Y/n is bobbing her head side to side to keep time with the cat clock he has up on the wall. She’s matching pace with its swinging tail, and clicking her tongue every second, pausing only briefly to say, “my co-workers,” in a chipper tone. 

Casually, he hums, “The ones that bully you?”

“Yeah!” She’s quick to respond, and quick to realize what she confirmed. Meaning she also realized Harry knew something she had never told him about, and this confuses her. Snapping her head away from the clock, he watches as her shoulders droop and she takes in what he said. The gears were turning clearly on her face, when finally, she spits out her question warily, “Hey… how’d you know that?”

Harry froze mid-strawberry heart. He couldn’t exactly say that he had been asking Mitch about her, and that had told her about her relationship with everyone at work because then that would make him seem more like a creep and less like a love-struck infatuated fool,  but he also didn’t want to lie to her completely. He had to stick with a little white lie,  “umm, Sarah mentioned something about observing shitty things happening at work, and she mentioned your name.”

“Oh,” y/n’s lips form a little pout, “Are you mad?” When those words come out of her mouth, the possibility of him seemingly being mad at her starts overwhelming her senses, and she starts sputtering again, “I’m sorry- I’m just- I feel off, I-I shouldn’t have eaten that brownie. I’m sorry. You probably think I’m a wimp.”

With sympathetically pursed lips, Harry shakes his head and gently soothes her worries, “I’m not mad. Y’just having a bad trip, sweetheart. It happens sometimes, even to me. When you’re not in a comfortable environment, it happens.” He finishes with the final strawberry slice, and slides the bowl across the way for her, “this is for you, should help with the munchies. Want some water?” 

“Please and thank you,” she mumbles around a bite of pink fruit. Sliding a glass across the table, Harry stands across the island to watch her. Y/n hand one hand wrapped around the small bowl, and the other holds fruit to her pouty red lips, swollen by the assault of her teeth. A trail of juice glistens down the side of her finger, and he watches, transfixed, as a pink tongue flicks out to lap up the mess in one, two, or three, tiny licks. A thick glob of saliva collects at the back of his throat because she's moaning, too. Little satisfied hums of pleasure and barely audible sounds of suction don’t escape him. 

Blood rushes to the center of him, tenting his pants and he has to go somewhere because fuck she might see it if he has to get close to her. 

Clearing his throat, Harry averts his eyes and tries to find somewhere else to set his eyes. Anywhere else because it’s so easy to picture his the ruddy mushroomed head of his cock pressed against her mouth like the tip of the strawberry heart, glistening with the moisture of precum and strings of her saliva as she wipes away his mess with her tongue like an eager little puppy. 

What was wrong with him? She needed his help, and had turned to him when she needed him. She had already had people pouncing on her, she didn’t need someone else chasing her skirts. 

“S’good, Harry,” y/n gulped down the last few pieces, and Harry blinked. Hard. “Can I have some more?”

There was a wide, lazy feline smile on her mouth. She looked… hazy. A bit sweaty. Disheveled.  Y/n looked freshly fucked, and stray drops of fruit around her mouth were making it so incredible hard for him to breathe, “no more lovie,” he managed to say, “or you’ll get a stomachache.” 

“Okay, H,” y/n yawned, unfazed by his rejection. Unaware of how crazy Harry was about her right now. His composure was fraying by the second. His mind played visions of them together like little prophecies, his tongue licking a stripe across the side of her face as he pounded her from behind so hard her eyes teared up. Her nails left little marks on his back from where she tried to grab leverage to bounce faster in his lap. Her skin dipping where Harry pawed at her to bring back against his dick. Fuck, he had to go into the restroom and tuck his boner into his pants. 

“Sleepy?” He rasped, voice trembling, eyes glued to her glassy doe eyes, “come, I’ll show you to your bed.” It was easier to be quiet and gentle with her. A calm version of him meant a restrained version of him. Clean as opposed to filthy. Good instead of bad. 

Her bed was really his bed. In his hurry to angle himself in such a way that she won’t see his raging erection, she forgets the state of disarray his bedroom is in. He walks slowly so he can hear the pitter-patter of her feet trailing after him, and stops at his door. Opening it, he inwardly cringes at everything inside. Blankets strewn all over the expanse of his mattress. Untucked and unaligned. One of his pillows on the floor instead of on the bed, and a rolling tray with crumbles of weed and baked mango bits on his bedside table. 

Harry rushed to that first, not wanting her to see anything else related to drugs. So much for a first impression. What a way to enforce the bum-drug dealer stereotype. 

“Promise m’not this messy,” he grumbles, picking up loose t-shirts and sweaters off the floor as he goes to turn on the lamp (swipe the tray away before she has a chance to see it), “it was a rough night. Was having a hard time sleeping.” 

Y/n squeaks behind him and he turns. She’s still standing by the doorway, “t-this is your bed?” 

Oh, God, she hates it. Harry starts swiping blankets off the bed to remake it for her. What was thinking, giving the sweet girl a messy bed?.“Yeah. I know it’s a little messy but I promise the mattress is comfortable. I bought it last year because I was having back problems a-”

“Where will you sleep?”

He starts tucking cover on the edges of his mattress, trying to be quick about it so she can see it’ll be neat for her. “On the couch, lovie.” 

“B-but… this is your bed?” y/n poses it like a question, but Harry can hear the guilt in her voice because she would be taking his bed. 

“I know that,” smiling softly at her, he shakes out and fluffs the pillows. “But I want you to sleep here instead. It’s much better than the couch.” 

“Are you sure?” Her fingers tangle at her navel.m

He nods and tucks the used blanket under his arm to take to the couch with him. “More than, sweetheart,” Looking at her attire, he pulls open his drawer and grabs some items for him and a few for her, “want to change into something else or is that okay for you? Can give you a sweater or a t-shirt.” 

Eyes lighting up at the large black shirt, y/n reaches out and points to it, “Can I have a shirt, please?” 

“When you ask so nicely, how can I say no?” Harry doesn’t mean for it to come out the way it does. But it happens, low and gravelly like the drag of a big cat’s tail on a cave floor. He sees the way her cheeks burn with his effect, and his cock throbs in his pants. He needs to get out of the room.  “There’s a restroom down the hall if you have to go, and an extra toothbrush in the cabinet. I’m gonna sleep right outside, so let me know if you need anything, okay?”

Y/n nods, “Okay.” 

The moment he closes the door slightly behind him, his hand clutches his ground, shifting it sideways so he’s not pressing up against the zipper. 

It was going to be a long night. 

***

Harry wakes up to the sound of mewling. 

Which is strange because he doesn’t own a cat, and high-pitched whimpering sounds are coming from… his bedroom? They’re muffled because his door is half closed. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes- if you can even call it that, he was tossing and turning because he couldn’t focus on sleeping knowing the object of his main thoughts is only a few strides away- Harry swings his feet off the side of the couch and pushes off with his knuckles. The sweatpants he had on dragged down low on his hips, the slant of his Adonis belt, and the thin skin right above the base of his cock visible. Sleepily, he tugged them higher and pressed the door open to check in on y/n.

And he felt his heart stop in his chest at what he saw.

Y/n was writhing in his bed, the sheet tangled between her legs and she was naked. Her face was flushed with tears, her chest choked up with sobs she was trying to keep down by biting on his pillow. Her hair was wild from her erratic movements caused by… well Harry didn’t know what. 

He rushed to her side, “Y/n! Y/n, baby.” 

A gasp wrenched itself from her chest, eyes were blown wide so that he could see how red they were, swollen at the waterline. She yelped like just his touch hurt him, and after removing his hands to ease her pain, Harry frantically ran his gaze all over her body, looking for anywhere she might be hurt. To see if maybe she had had some kind of reaction to the drugs she had taken. 

“What is it, love? Talk to me,” he whispers, not wanting to scare her even more. His thick brows are furrowed heavily, eyes heavy with concern and a touch of sleep. He had never felt so helpless before, at a loss for what to do. He wanted to cradle her close to his chest and rock her sweetly until her crying stopped. 

Y/n keened, whiny and long, “I’m sorry, Harry.” 

“Why are you sorry, lovie? Tell me what’s wrong so I can make it all okay,” he rubs a hand across her head, featherlight but enough to brush the hair away so he could see her clearly. She turned to him, following his touch with her nose like an animal searching for the warmth of touch, and then curled deeper into herself, hands clutching at her navel, “do we have to go to the hospital, y/n?”

“I was hungry, H,” y/n shuts her eyes tightly and gulps a breath of air, “but you said no more.. and there were brownies in the drawer.” 

Harry rubs her back, transfixed by y/n’s bizarre actions as she moans at his touch. Cocking his head to the side, he mumbles what she said, “brownies in the…” 

Realization dawned on in. 

No, no, no, no. Looking at the bedside table that previously housed his rolling tray, it now was covered with two, blood-red pieces of crumpled foil crumbs of chocolate dotted around the trash. The words Kitty-kat Brat in a sensual, curly font stamped on the side. A script of warning on the side said that each partner should only consume a fourth of the brownie every hour as desired and that after consumption, the effect would only be sated by the exhaustion of endorphins. And at the top, in a glitter color: aphrodisiac. 

Y/n had consumed two aphrodisiacs that Harry kept for himself on the occasion that a partner might want to experiment with them. The poor girl was hurting because she was… so fucking horny. 

“Oh, lovie,” Harry sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. What the fuck was he going to do? Leave her? No, he couldn’t do that when… when her pussy was weeping for attention. Call someone else to help? When help meant she would get fucked so hard she’d be cock-dumb? Absolutely not. But also, Harry didn’t feel right touching her when she was clearly under another influence. And if he didn’t feel right doing it himself, why the fuck would he let someone else do it? With a curled knuckle, he hooks her chin and forces her to look at him,  “can you tell me exactly what it is you’re feeling? S’okay, don’t be embarrassed.” 

Y/n shuts her eyes and tries to yank her chin away, but Harry tightens his grip, pinching the sides of her mouth so she can’t move, “can’t do that, H.” 

It’s laughable really, he thinks. How whiny she’s being when her actions are the reason she was in this position. He had told her no more, and did she listen to him? No. In fact, she went looking through his drawers and ate his brownies, which he did not give permission for her to do. 

If there was one thing that got him riled up, it was girls who didn’t listen and then cried at the consequences of their own actions. 

He chuckled at her, even though he was surprised at the change in his feelings about the situation, but he couldn’t find it in him to care anymore. Here he was, thinking she was this innocent little thing. And she eats his fucking sex brownies. Shaking his head, he taps her cheek with his finger to get her to pay attention to him, “I need to know what’s happening so I can find some way to help. Aren’t you hurting, baby?”

Keening, back arching off the bed, she cries, “So badly, Harry. My… pussy hurts. I’ve already cum so many times but nothing I do is working!” Blood rushes to his dick at the lewd confession. How long she has been in here with her fingers rubbing her cunt with him just outside the door. Muffling her moans so he doesn’t hear them. The thought makes him groan internally. “It doesn’t feel right.” 

His voice is low and gravelly, filled with a hunger that was kindling in his loins in preparation to spread like wildfire. “What doesn’t feel right?” He asked. 

“Me doing it myself,” she swallows wetly, and her hand comes up to grip his wrist, Her thighs are chafed from how urgently she keeps rubbing them together, and through the lace of her bralette he can see how hard her nipples are. The glassy look in her eyes isn’t just from tears, it’s a reflection of how deep her need goes.  “I-I… I want someone else to do it. I want you to do it.” 

Little crescents of broken skin are left in her wake, and he lets her. The sting of pain is keeping him centered at the moment. The sound of her harsh breathing, rustling of the mattress springs from all her movement, and the bursts of circling motion at her hips are testing him. He wants to squeeze the tip of his dick to alleviate some of the aches that are settling there. “You want me to do what, sweet thing?” 

 “I want you to help me, H. Please?” Blinking at him blearily, y/n pouts. She was begging him. 

Crooning to her with a condescending pout of his own, Harry cups the side of her face and runs a thumb under her eyes were tears have started falling once more, “help you what? Use your words.” 

Y/n huffs and sobs, her heels sliding against the mattress, “help me cum! Please, I can’t take it anymore.” 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Look at me, y/n. I said look at me,” he shakes her by the grip he has on her face gently to get her to snap out of the whining and whimpering. Needing her eyes on him so that he could read her, he asks “Are you sure about this?” 

“Yes, yes. I am. Please do something.” 

“Ask nicely.” 

The girl is back to mewling, taking the hand on her face and moving it down to her legs so that Harry would get the hint, “please touch me, H.” 

Y/n pulls him down onto the bed by his hand, and Harry lets her tug at him until he’s sitting down next to her before he pulls out of her grip and grabs both of her hands in one. Placing them above her head, he looks at her pointedly, eyes dark, so she doesn’t move her hands from where he leaves them. Big hands splayed wide across her trailed down the sides of her waist and stopped at her hips, rubbing gentle circles, “Open y’legs, don’t be shy now. M’just gonna help, and I need to see what I’m working with.” 

Briefly, she mumbles some kind of complaint, the remnants of any modesty making themselves known, but Harry wasn’t having any of it. He waited, glaring at her almost, until she allowed her thighs to fall open freely, and he hummed low at the back of his throat. Sliding his palms up the inside of her thigh, he began to talk to her in a tone that many didn’t get to hear, “want my fingers, lovie? Or my mouth? Don’t think you deserve my cock for being naughty and touching something that wasn’t yours. Only good girls get my cock.” 

“Everything, H. I’m sorry, won’t do it again. Give me anything you want,” y/n weeps, her hands in a fist above her head digging into the pillow that is halfway out of its case from all her moving around. 

“Think I’ll pet y’weepy cunt first, hmm? How does that sound?” Harry bites back a moan and feels the tip of his dick rubbing against the inside of his sweatpants. Reaching down to adjust himself doesn’t seem like a priority when his girl is beneath him with her legs wide open and pleas are falling from her lips for him to touch her. The inside of her thighs are irritated, the black gusset of her thin underwear stained white with the cream of her pussy. He wants to press his nose against her and lick her clean. His mouth is watering for him to do something of the sort but instead, he hooks her underwear aside and… 

And his own hips buck forward against his will. She’s so slick, it's running down the seam of her ass and onto his bedsheets. Drops of her creamy cut sit on the edge of her hole, accumulated from her previous orgasms. Y/n twists uncomfortably and pants. Harry, wanting to hear her cries again, smears her cum with two fingers around her entrance, and slides them into her pussy. 

“Perfe- oh, God.” She clenches around him, and he can feel that spongy place brush against the tip of his finger the second before she starts twitching from an orgasm. Her mouth drops open in a silent scream and her head tilts back into the mattress. Harry smirks as she cums from one touch, and his own jaw drops at the amount of moisture that comes out of her, dripping onto his knuckles. 

Guiding her through it, Harry continues moving his fingers at a steady pace, bringing his thumb up to the hood of her mound to press against her clit, “Oh, y’poor thing. Just a touch and y’already gushing on m’hand? Thought I was gonna have to try for it. Y’cum this easy for everyone, lovie, or jus’ me?” He leans over her with a hand braced beside her head and whispers into her ear,  “how ‘bout I work f’the next one?” 

Ripples of need were running down his spine and to his groin but he focused all of his energy into paying attention to what made her react the most. Listening for the hitch in her breath. He dragged his fingers out slowly, curling them on the inside of her wall as he did so where was persistent pressure leading up to her g-spot, and y/n made an animalistic noise mixed between a whine and cry. His tongue lolled against the side of her ear, the skin hot and flushed from the heat of her body. Harry nipped the tender flesh of her neck and waited to hear her yelp to soothe the sting with his tongue. Kissing his way down to her throat, he presses his fingers into her as far as they go and runs circles around her clit while keeping steady pressure on the bundle of nerves inside of her. He’s rubbing her inside and outside, slowly, slowly, and then starts picking up the pace. 

Y/n is mewling, her tits in the air as her back lifts up in a hold.  Her moans are becoming louder, her pussy tightening around his fingers and he knows she’s going to orgasm again. He’s mumbling how good she is being for him against the side of her breast, his nose holding back the flimsy lace as he leaves the plush skin and fights the urge to cant his hips into the bed like a dog in heat. He feels hot everywhere, like the heat turned on by itself in his room, and when y/n’s fingers curl into his hair and pull as she cums again and screams his name he can’t find it in him to reprimand her. Harry just talks her through it. 

“Good girl, y/n. Y’being so good for me. Think you can give me another, lovie? Because I want one more. Y’gonna give me one more, okay?” Cooing at the way she digs her head back into the pillows and shakes her head, Harry increases his rhythm so that the muscles in his bicep flex with every move. She’s still spasming around him from the orgasm she’s riding, but he doesn’t let it end, “ah, you’re so cute, saying no but this little cunt is weeping yes. Who am I to deny her, hmm?” 

She’s adamantly shaking her head no, eyes lulling shut and her mouth slacks with a cry, “too much… too much, h. Sensitive, please-”

“Weren’t you begging for it earlier, y/n? M’only giving you what you asked for,”  Harry thinks he could cum just from watching her body tense with unyielding pleasure. Her eyes are rolling into the back of her head and Harry is back to fucking her fast and hard with his fingers while licking and sucking on her nipple, “that’s it. That’s it right there isn’t it, baby? Abusing y’special spot so it’s too much for you, hmm?” 

He’s muffled against her skin and the sound of her wet pussy being penetrated by his fingers is so filthy, his own eyes roll into the back of his head. He takes a deep breath and smells the sex on her, the tanginess of her juices zinging his tastebuds, and god he has to taste her. 

“Yes, yes, please, Harry,” y/n is anguished, heels set firmly so she can meet his hand halfway, and she's so erratic he can’t focus on anything else but the furious pace she’s set. 

“Gonna cum, baby?” Harry groans, moving one of his legs so one of hers is in between his, and the movement of her shin against his crotch makes him pant. Every muscle is tense with a restraint that is slowly melting away. With every rub of her against him- she’s doing it unknowingly, and he’s rutting against her- he’s closer to spurting in his sweatpants. 

“Mhm,” her affirmation drags out into breathless gasps as the weak squeeze unclenches and clenches all over again as another orgasm rolls through her. 

He can’t take it anymore. He removes his hand to give her a chance to recover, takes the hand covered in her cum, and sticks it down his pants. Hissing at the relief he gets from squeezing himself from base to tip has him seeing white. 

“Good girl, baby,” stroking himself, he nuzzles against her chin. He wants to kiss her but he wants to talk them both up into a frenzy. “Took it so well, let me treat y’little pussy right. Does she still want more?” y/n nods, sniffling and scrunching her nose, “you do? Want my mouth or my fingers next, lovie?”

“I want more than that. It’s not… not enough,” she whimpers. 

Harry cocks his head to the side and thrusts into his hand once more before going to touch her again. He’s painfully hard, and the catch of his tip against the terrycloth fabric inside is overstimulating him. “Not enough? I made you come three times and it wasn’t enough?”

“Give me more, Harry, please I-I need it,” y/n angles her hips in his direction again. A thin film of sweat coats her skin, and the baby hairs at her temple are sticking to the skin. Her eyes are red, but she’s not crying anymore, and a line of clear snot trails into her upper lip that she keeps sniffling. She looks thoroughly fucked now before Harry’s even stuck his cock in her. He cleans her face with the edge of a blanket and kisses her under each eye. Before he can right himself again, she pulls him back down by his hair and presses her mouth against his. Little pecks at first, and then she’s licking at the seam of his mouth, all the while Harry just smirks. He doesn’t kiss her back at first, and when she starts to cry about it, he leans in and devours her mouth. 

He’s brutal in his kiss, sticking his tongue in his mouth and knocking his teeth against hers. She tastes sweet, like chocolate and strawberries and weed. Y/n melts against him, opening up her lips to him and licking back like a cat. When they separate, a string of saliva connects their mouths. 

“What do you need? Hmm? Want my mouth and my fingers, too? No?” He hums low, pretending to think of naughty ways to get her off, when in reality, he’s already thought of a million and one, “want to ride one off on my thigh? Rub that wet thing between y’legs all over mine and leave a sticky mess behind? Y’might give y’self a burn, but that’s what you get for poking into something y’should have.”

“No. I’m sorry, H, just please- help me-” she pleads meekly. 

“I want to help y’lovie, but y’gotta tell me because I’m running out of ideas here,” before he can finish her sentence, she makes a frustrated huff and buries her head into his neck. Y/n wraps her leg around his, trying to pull him on her but all she manages is to lift herself up and grind her molten core on the hard ridges of his abs. An absurdly loud moan resonates throughout the room, and Harry groans at the way she ruts into the air, a pull in his abdomen demanding his dick makes contact with something. Her hands find purchase on his shoulders, and Harry has to remain tense while she uses him as leverage to push her hips up so her clit drags against the ridge just below his belly button. He’s being mean, watching her struggle and pant, sweat gathering at her temples and between her tits, but he can’t help but watch her use him. She’s so focused on trying to get herself off, it’s almost like he’s not even there as long as he isn’t moving. 

The way he watches her is so nonchalant, it’s almost as if he’s not a few touches away from cumming himself. He merely smiles lazily at her efforts, mumbling lame encouragement and telling her she was so cute while she puffed and struggled to get herself off. She couldn’t keep herself touching his abdomen for long enough to pick up a pace. When she starts to tire out, her pants turn into frustrated huffs, and her thighs quake from exertion. 

Harry chuckles, “y’need help, baby? Y’were doing just fine before. Didn’t seem to need me then.” 

She sulked, and the expression on her face was only missing the stomping of feet to resemble a tantrum, “You’re being mean!”

“Oh, darling,” he soothed, licking the salty drop of moisture that fell from the side of her eye in frustration. He wanted to keep toying with her until the only word she knew was his name in different volumes and tones, but if his own dick was hurting this badly without an added stimulant, he can’t imagine what she was feeling. He gently kissed her lips and pulled away before her eager tongue made an earnest effort to deepen their connection. “don’t cry.”

“It hurts,” y/n turned her head to the side, into the pillow to cover her face, and mindlessly ran her hands across his shoulders. A smattering of gooseflesh covered her, and for some reason, it softened him. 

“Here, why don’t we try this,” he moves them so swiftly, so she’s on top, her legs on either side of him, her center sitting atop his belly button. Harry decides that he’s going to let her have her fun for a while before taking control. “Better, lovie? Like this?” Her jaw is slack from the contact of the muscular ridges, her clit grazing against the indent of his abs as guided by his hands on her hips, dragging her back and force to set a rhythm. Hurried ah-ah-ah’s are choked out from her, and y/n tries to go faster, her thigh muscles straining against Harry’s grip. And he lets her go. 

With his elbows planted on the bed to support himself, he flexed his core and smirked in satisfaction when she mewled and humped him erratically, muttering that it felt so good, how she was so close. There had never been a time like this before, in which he practiced such restraint, but just gazing at her was enough. He began to pant with a savage abandon, entranced by the bouncing of her tits, the little huffs of breath that interrupted her cries. Precum leaked out of his dick and made a dark sport on the gray fabric of his pants at the feeling of her wet pussy rubbing against him. Using him to get off. This sweet angel who had been scared to look him in the eye at one point, who didn’t know shit about drugs, who had captivated him before he knew her name, was using him to get off. He had never felt so lucky. 

“Go on then, use me,” Harry canted his hips up to press against her as she came down on him, and groaned when the tip of his dick touched her ass. “Give this pussy what it needs, baby. Whatever she wants,” grabbing her thigh, he stroked her, swiping up and down and skating his thumb on the tender skin that wasn’t touching.“Can I rub you right here? She wants me to touch her, will y’let me?”

Nodding fervently, so eager, “Yes, please. Anything you want Harry, need to going to-”

“Cum all over my belly?” Harry suggested, his palm stopping where her thigh meets her hip so that his thumb could reach her clit and swipe against it as she moved. Her hole fluttered against him, and then he felt her start to clench, grasping around nothing as the beginnings of another burst build inside her. His thumb flicked her bundle of nerves faster, rolling longer in bursts of two or three, and then she stilled, her thighs spasming from an orgasm announced by the shout of his name. “Look at you, y’shaking,” he whispered in awe, his hips stuttering when she feebly tried to rock against him while still cumming, “and you still fucking want more.”

“Make it go way, H,” y/n pleaded, her shoulders twitching from the continuation of the orgasm she had previously. The dim lighting in the room makes it hard to see but he doesn’t miss the way she arches her back and pushes her tits out. His mouth waters at the thought of sucking them again, but he wants her to be filthy. As filthy as his thoughts were getting. 

“No.” He says, taking his hand away and watching her pussy shudder against him as he cuts her orgasm short. 

Y/n whines low in her throat and lets her body fall forward. She rests on top of him now, her head by his ear. Her mouth is hot against his ear when she mutters wetly, “please.”

“You’re gonna do what I just did again, and again until it stops,” Harry rubs a hand up her back, through her shoulderblades and up the nape of her neck until his fingers are deep in her hair, and tightens his grip to keep her still from licking his jaw. He yanks her back so her face is a hair away from him, their noses a centimeter from touching, “or until you tell me exactly what you want”

Gulping, her head bobs up and down and her tone becomes pitiful, “Kay. Please.. can you… unbutton your jeans, please?”

“I said y’ have to tell me, not take what you want, y/n.” He feels try to slowly inch forward to kiss him. 

“I know! I know!” Shutting her eyes tightly and whimpering when Harry pulls her back to stop her movements again, her high-pitched tone of voice sounds like music to his ears, “m’gonna go again, I promise, but your buttons are hurting my… butt.” 

There's a beat of silence, and then he kisses her nose. Let's go of her hair, and tucks his hands behind his head like he's kicking back for a fucking vacation and not like if she accidentally touched his cock one more time he would cum. “Y’cute, lovie, go ahead, then. M’only watching this time.”

“S’not fair!” Y/n complained but reluctantly started moving over her own lubrication. Harry was so wet with her arousal that the filthiest suction noises were coming from where their skin touched. The insides of her thighs were hot against him, and he imagined it was from the irritation. Later, he would have to apply the cream to them. But he wasn’t going to touch her then. Not when she was being so bratty after he made her cum several times. 

Cocking an eyebrow, Harry growled “what’s not fair is you ate my sex brownie, y/n, but I’m not complaining, am I? What if I wanted to fuck someone else senseless, eat out their sopping cunt, and have them beg me ‘more, h, s’not enough’? Have them mark me with their cum like you’re doing right now, and play with their clit till they can’t talk properly?” She didn’t like what he had to say“Oh, I see, y’don’t like that, do you, baby? I’m doin’ these things with you, s’not enough?” 

“No!” A warmth spread in Harry’s chest at her disapproval of him doing things to someone else, at the thought that they shared the same possessiveness. 

“What more do you-” she lifts her hip and inches back, and then she pulled his sweatpants down and come down in such a way that her folds were fit snugly against the angry red tip of his cock. He hissed and stilled, “Y/n, what-”

“Want this, h,” y/n whispered and rolled her hips against him. That was all it took. One touch of her pussy on him and hot, thick white ropes of his cum were spurting between them. A long animalistic groan thrummed in his chest, the tightness in his core snapped and so did he. He grabbed her with a curse and held her still as he fucked out his orgasm, his dick sliding between her folds furiously as the orgasm continued like it would never end. Moaning as he watches her bite down on her lip, climbing up on another climax as moisture burst on the length of his cock. She was quivering, grinding against him as much as she could so prettily. His blood was boiling at it felt like he was going to have heatstroke from how warm he was everywhere, but the pleasure was lighting up each of his nerves and he could care less if he died right after. 

“My cock?” He snarled, his lips pulled back so he looked like the animal he was being. Puffs of air were sifting through his nostrils harshly, but he kept dirty talking her. “Y’naughty little thing, lookin’ like a fucking wreck with me sliding in between you like this, fuck, sucking me right in.”

“Feels so good,” y/n panted, her hands on his wrists at her hips. Her touch was featherlight on him, and Harry knew she was getting to the end of the brownies. 

“Does it, baby?” 

“Yeah, you’re so warm, it-it feels really really good,” bits of her words disappeared with gasps that took her oxygen away. She was so flushed, her skin damp with sweat. 

“Is that all you know how to say?” He slows his movements, and instead of moving her over him, Harry thrusts. His member setting a harsh, punishing pace that would have him reaching her g-spot repeatedly if he was inside her.“Or are you just not thinking right because you want me to fuck you so badly?” 

“Yes! Yes!” 

“Say it,” snarling, he pistoned up into her, the familiar sensation of a coiling rope building in him once more. The tip of his cock between them was leaking precum, y/n’s pussy dripping creamy slick on him so there was a sopping mess between them. 

“I want you to fuck me, h,” on his name, y/n starts shaking uncontrollably, another orgasm running through her and this one renders her into a sobbing mess. Harry… well he’s moaning without reserve, eyes shut as pleasure overtakes him again. This time he savors it, slowing their bodies down so their sensual touches drag out longer. Low sobs shakes her, and she collapses beside him and starts to curl in on herself from the overwhelming sensations. Harry follows, climbing over her and turning her so she’s facing him and looking her right in the eyes. 

“I’m not gonna fuck you dumb, tonight, sweetheart. Not when you’re already stupid horny from a brownie y’took without permission. Remember what I said? Only good girls get me between their legs. And you were so, so, naughty.” He was pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses below her breasts, peppering them both and tweaking her nipples when they weren’t in his mouth. 

Y/n begins to cry, tears immediately falling at his rejection. Her beginning is desperate, “No. No, h. Please, I’ll do anything. Please, I want-” 

“I know you want to cum. So that’s what I’ll give you. But not with my dick. Gonna eat up all the honey that comes out of this puffy little hole and I don’t care if y’cum so much y’crying because your slit is numb. I’m gonna stop when I want to, understand? Nod if you understand.” She does as he asks, and sniffles. “Good. Now lay down and let me eat.” 

Her back has barely touched the mattress before his mouth is on her, devouring her like it's both the first and last meal he’s ever had. His tongue is hot on her already creamy pussy, and the taste of her has him rutting into the mattress like a fucking animal, fucking down on it like it’s her. He laps at her desperately, ears keenly aware of every moan, squeak, whimper that comes out of her. He fucks into her hole with his tongue, licking her cream before it's even fully out of her, and spitting it back out on her clit. The action makes y/n freeze, and he looks up, momentarily confused thinking that he’s crossed a boundary but…

But y/n’s head is thrown so far back he can count the veins in her neck, and her body is trembling, a restrained garble of words incoherently coming out of her in pants and Harry knows she’s coming. He blows on her clit, allowing his spit and her cum to drip before going back down to slurp at it. He focuses on that little button, suckling at it and flicking it with his tongue. Soon enough, y/n is yelping, her hands in his hair as she tried to wretch him away. It’s finally become too much. 

“Don’t you fucking pull me off, I’m not finished yet,” he momentarily takes his hands off of her thighs and wraps them around her wrist, pressing down on the tendon at the center to wiggle her fingers off his head. He tucks them under her back, and places his mouth on her once more, dark eyes threatening her as he mouths his words on cunt, “Lay down and don’t pull again or I’ll tie y’up.” 

Holding her down firmly, Harry splayed his tongue flat on her and sucks, surprised and pleased by the shriek that escaped her. Y/n is crying, saying she can’t take it, that it was enough, but Harry isn’t listening. He’s so lost in his own pleasure, the arousal he gets from her taste, the sounds she makes because of him, that he’s chasing after his own orgasm by rubbing his cock against the bed. He’s getting frustrated because he wants to get there as soon as she does, and he knows it's gonna be soon with the way she’s throbbing against his lips. 

So he reaches down and squeezes himself in a tight fist, lubrication not necessary because of how slippery he was already. The moment he does, his vision goes white, and there's a spurt of heat below his belly button, and moisture drenching the lower half of his face. 

They lay there heaving briefly, and he becomes aware that she’s no longer awake. Her breathing is stinted with hiccups from leftover sobs, but she’s asleep. The tip of her nose is red, her eyes red-rimmed. He knows she’s going to wake up tired and with a headache tomorrow, but he’ll be there with her. With the corner of a blanket, he cleans them up as much as he can and tosses that soiled sheet away, grabbing a much more clean one and throwing it over them. 

“Night, baby.” He kissed her forehead and tucked his Achilles heel close to his chest, the girl sleeping like a rock in his arms. 

[captainsophiestark]

Don't Mess With Demeter

Luke Castellan x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Fandom: Percy Jackson

Day One Prompt: "That was good work."

Summary: Travis and Connor Stoll like to cause problems. Fortunately, having Luke Castellan for a boyfriend can help take the sting out of dealing with those problems.

Word Count: 1,802

Category: Fluff, Humor

A/N: Happy spooky season everyone!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"I AM GOING TO KILL YOU TWO!"

My eyes snapped open at the screeching sound coming from just outside my cabin. I rolled out of bed quickly, hustling to the front door in my pajamas, to find Katie Gardner absolutley fuming in the front doorway. Her fists were clenched as she started at someone beyond the cabin door, the early morning light giving her silhouette a rosy glow.

I hadn't had a chance to look at the clock, but clearly it was much too early on a Saturday for me to be dealing with this. Unfortunately for me, as the head counselor for the Demeter cabin, I didn't actually have a choice.

I followed Katie as she stormed outside, in hot pursuit of whoever had gotten on her bad side. As she stepped further into the light, I realized she was absolutley dripping wet, and the most likely series of events clicked into my head at the exact same time I heard the Stolls cackle.

Damned Hermes kids. I knew better than to expect them to ever stop pranking us completely, especially since Travis seemed to use it as a way to flirt with Katie, but did they have to do it so early in the morning?

By the time I cleared the Demeter cabin's front steps, Katie had already chased the Stolls halfway across the lawn full of cabins, shouting and hurling seed packets at them as she went. With a little Demeter magic, she made the packets explode as soon as they got close enough to the Stolls. For the sake of every single camper still asleep, I needed to put a stop to this sooner than later.

I snatched up my own handful of seeds that had been sitting outside the cabin, then took off after Katie, Connor, and Travis. The Stolls kept cutting back and forth across the grass, Katie always a few steps behind them, which made it much easier for me to catch up to the trio by skipping the zig zags. Connor made it almost to the treeline of the forest before apparently remembering he might not want to take a fight with a Demeter kid into the woods, so he came to a screeching halt. Travis, who'd had his head turned to grin at Katie, ran right into his back. The two went toppling to the ground, and when I finally reached them, Katie had her arm pulled back to annihilate the brothers with whatever she managed to grow out of all the seeds she'd grabbed.

"Nope!" I cried, using one hand to stop Katie from following through on her throw while I scattered my own seeds with the other. A little concentration and a wave of my hand later, some flowers had sprouted and wrapped lightly around the Stolls' legs, keeping them in place at least for the moment. I turned my attention fully to Katie again.

She scolwed me, her half-dry hair and near-growling tone giving her quite a wild look.

"What are you doing? I had them!"

"Katie, as much as I get where you're coming from, I can't let you make the Stolls into living tress."

"Why not? They deserve it! It'd finally stop them from showing up at our cabin at five in the morning on a Saturday just to mess with us!" I grimaced. I knew it was early, but 5am... oof. "See! You know I'm right."

I sighed. "While my regular camper heart might agree with you, since my alarm was you screaming thanks to their prank... my senior counselor brain is reminding me we don't get to kill the other campers, even when they might deserve it. Sorry, Katie."

"So what, they just get away with it? Like nothing ever happened?"

"No, definitley not." I turned to the Stolls again, hands on my hips. They'd both managed to get about halfway out of my flower trap, but they froze on the spot when they noticed my attention on them. "What do you think, boys? You drove a daughter of Demeter to a murderous rage. I think that's gonna take quite a bit to make up for it."

They both sighed, relaxing back against the ground as they shared a look. They communicated silently for a few moments, Travis opening his mouth to say something before Connor held up a hand. Finally, Connor turned back to me.

"We'll take her stable cleaning chores for the week," he said. Katie and I scoffed in sync.

"Nice try, Connor. How about this? Both of you take all of Katie's chore spots for the next week, and I'll schedule you a few extra rotations in the stables, since you seemed so willing to take over there. And if you wake me up this early in the morning by going after one of my siblings again, I might just roll over and go back to sleep while Katie takes care of the problem for me."

Travis huffed, flopping onto his back on the ground, and Connor narrowed his eyes at me.

"That seems a little harsh."

"Oh, by all means. Let me wake you up at five tomorrow with screaming and a run and see how you feel about it."

"Fine. Message recieved," he huffed, rolling his eyes. I waved my hand to free them both from the flower trap and they stood. They made it all the way to the door of the Hermes cabin, Travis shooting a wink at Katie as he went, before Connor paused and turned back to me. "We'll make sure to schedule our pranks in the late morning from now on."

The grin those two gave me before ducking through the door was mischief incranate, but I just sighed. Now that the crisis had been dealt with, all I wanted was to go back to sleep.

"I'm going to kill them," Katie huffed from beside me. I turned to her with a lopsided smile.

"Even Travis?"

"Of course Travis! Why would you even ask me that?" I raised an eyebrow at her, and despite her scowl, she blushed furiously. "Oh, shut up! A traitor in my own house..."

She shook her head, grumbling as she headed back to our cabin without looking back at me. I just grinned as I watched her go. As much as she liked to complain about the Stolls, I'd seen her shoulder to shoulder having the time of her life with them too many times to believe she really hated them. Travis especially.

The sound of a door opening and closing drew my attention away from Katie and back to the Hermes cabin. I got ready to hurl another handful of seeds if the Stolls had decided to pick possibly the worst time ever to show their faces again, but instead, I got a much nicer surprise. Luke, my boyfriend and the head counselor of the Hermes cabin, wandered out in a camp t-shirt and his pajama pants, his hair a delightfully ruffled mess.

"Hey," he called as he walked towards me. "Any idea why the Stolls just came running into my cabin muttering and plotting?"

"Is that not just the base state of Hermes kids?"

"Very funny," he huffed, and I grinned.

"They dumped a bucket of water on Katie's head this morning. I woke up to her screaming bloody vengance, and just managed to catch them before she got her revenge. In the interest of keeping the peace, I gave them all her chore spots in exchange for Katie not attacking them. Then I made sure they knew I wasn't going to get up to save them next time if something happened before nine am."

Luke laughed, pulling me in close for a hug as he finally reached me. I let him, leaning into his chest and sighing in the now-peaceful morning.

"You know they're just going to wait until about five minutes after nine now, right?"

"Yeah."

"As long as you're prepared. Still. That was good work." He pulled back with a smile, then leaned in as if to kiss me. I leaned back, putting a hand on his chest to stop him, and he frowned.

"Kisses are for boyfriends who don't abandon me to deal with his problem-children on my own. At five in the morning."

Luke huffed a laugh before pulling me back into his chest. I let him, although I put up a little resistance just to make my point.

"Hm. I don't suppose there's anything I can do to make it up to you? Get back in your good graces?"

"I don't know, Castellan. Connor and Travis made me run at five in the morning."

"Oh, it's Castellan now, is it?"

"Mhm."

"Alright. What if... I put together an extra-special date for us tonight? Something romantic, relaxing, and maybe even a little magical. Would that get me back in your good graces?"

I hummed pretending to think about it. Luke kissed the top of my head, then pulled back again enough to look me in the eye. He raised an eyebrow.

"Well?"

"I guess that might work. Depending on just how relaxing and romantic said date is."

"Oh, I can promise you right now, it'll be the most romantic and the most relaxing. And even better, I'll make sure nobody can interrupt us with camp problems, pranks, or anything else for the rest of the night."

"You really think you can make that happen?" I asked, letting the skepticism creep into my voice. By virtue of being two of the oldest campers who'd also been here close to the longest, we got roped into everything. Luke just grinned back at me, a little bit of his family resemblance to the Stolls creeping through via the glint in his eyes.

"I really think I can."

I grinned, dropping the huffy act and leaning up to kiss him on the cheek.

"Well, good. Because after this morning, I need a night like that with my favorite person."

"So I take it I'm at least mostly off the hook?"

"Mostly. All the way if and when we get our peaceful night tonight."

"Can't wait."

We shared a smile, then Luke leaned in to kiss me, and this time I let him. Despite the early hour, the moment alone with the camp so quiet as the sun rose over Long Island Sound was actually pretty nice. After a moment, though, I pulled back, and Luke and I shared a sigh.

"You wanna head to breakfast while we can still get away with sitting at the same table? Before the rest of the campers show up?"

"Always," he said, smiling again and taking my hand in his. The two of us headed off to the dining pavilion together, taking the rare opportunity to enjoy a peaceful morning together. Would I have preferred to still be asleep right now? Sure. But if I couldn't get that, then a nice, quiet morning with Luke wasn't a bad second option.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

Riordanverse: @valkyriepirate

[taxonomicons]

AITA: I (6000+ M) took a long distance job offer after my (6000+ M) kissed me, now he thinks I don’t love him

Hey Reddit, throwaway because I have quite nosy coworkers that know my other account. I have been at this heavenly company for a really long time but a couple years ago they fired me for being involved with someone from a rival company. Now he’s my best friend. He also got fired but he never really like his company anyway and doesn’t seem that upset about it. He lost his apartment though so he’s been coming over a lot more often so he doesn’t have to sleep in his car.

The problem is that the company I used to work for offered me a senior position out of the blue, which has basically been my dream since I can remember. I knew it would mean being away from my best friend though so I worked out a deal to have him come with me, and the company actually offered to hire us both. When I went to tell him the good news he blew up at me and said this isn’t what he wanted and he’d rather start over somewhere new. When I told him this is better for both of us he kissed me and stormed off. We’ve been companions, friends, whatever you would call it for ages but we’ve never kissed before.

After he stormed out he waited by his car but I didn’t go after him. I don’t know if it was the anger or the fear of what he might say but I couldn’t face him. I still took the job and left him because I can’t miss this opportunity even if it means losing him, and this is where I think I might be TA. I’m really frustrated that I stuck my neck out and got both of us jobs again, and he won’t even consider it. Especially after he’s been at my place so much and clearly wants to be more than friends I feel like it only makes sense for us to both work together again. We are such a good team and I don’t understand why he think abandoning our lives makes more sense then trying to repair the ones we’ve got. I really love him and don’t want to hurt his feelings but now he’s not talking to me. Was it wrong to take the job even though I know I can fix things and make it better for him?

Edit: for everyone asking why he wouldn’t want to work it’s because he’s worked for this company before and they fired him and a bunch of coworkers for trying to unionize/question higher management.

Edit 2: Okay I’m trying to respond to as many of these as I can but I get it I’m the asshole. I am going to go after him and try to make things right as soon as I get off work. Will post update soon.

[bengiyo]

Ben’s Big BL Blurb 2: Fall is Finally Here

I am simply too busy with worth, family, other hobbies, and life to write about every show in real time anymore. I’m sorry to all the Stray Thoughts readers who’ve reached out about whether I would pick that back up, and I simply just do not have the time to do them anymore. Instead, I’ll try to do one of these as often as I can to catch up on things.

First, let’s go over some shows I finished recently that I don’t think I wrote much about.

First Note of Love

I was so happy to see Michael back on screen, and I was glad to see that he’s still able to get great chemistry with his co-star. Unfortunately, I don’t think this show was very coherent, so I didn’t get a lot out of it emotionally. It was a pretty inoffensive watch overall, and thus an easy show to put on without having to work through too much. I liked the work between everyone, and Mei Lei was such a fun character. Probably won’t return to this one, though. 

Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo

This is probably the show of the year for me. There’s so much I loved about this show. I loved that the characters had sex, but were neither rewarded nor punished for it; their sex didn’t solve any problems. I also really love how this show explored how childhood trauma expresses in two different kinds of boys, and I love that we got to see a bully reckon with his actions and get closure. I love that this show ended with them being kinda poor, but happy together. I love how messed up they both were about everything. I loved that Juyeong wasn’t stupid, and could read what was going on.

I clearly need to write a separate post to unpack everything I felt in this show.

Let’s move on to what I’m watching currently, in no particular order…starting with the lesbians, and then the worst BLs.

Apple My Love

Genuinely having fun with this GL. I like how quickly most of the drama plays out. It’s giving me quite a bit of secondhand embarrassment, but I like the characterizations in this show. This new production house brought us Knock Knock, Boys! and Monster Next Door this year. We need to keep an eyes on them. 

Haunted Hearts

I’m so fascinated by Oxin Films teaming up with Regal Entertainment. The leads are very attractive, but the cinematography is really boring. I’m trying to stay invested, but it’s kind of a sleepy watch. Also amused that they started airing a ghost romance right after Halloween ended. I’ve kind of moved on emotionally from the season.

My Damn Business

This show could be good, but it’s not. I struggled with episode 5 because our lead looked more relaxed and happier with his senior than the guy he’s getting into a romance with. There’s something missing here in this one, but I can’t exactly put my finger on it. I think it’s primarily a side effect of the short run time, but I think the boss’s interest isn’t landing properly for the employee to respond to. 

Eccentric Romance

This show could be good, but it’s not. Still, I am obsessed with a murder mystery being the primary source of confusion between our leads. I was willing to forgive this show a lot of its rough edges, but it failed to handle the turn from friendship to sexual/romance really well. I feel like our guys just started dating and having sex, and I’m a bit frustrated that they didn’t talk about it really at all, particularly since this show features two different languages spoken on screen. Genuinely looking forward to seeing how this one finishes. 

See Your Love

I’m not sure this show is exactly working that well, but everyone is very pretty and I’m having a decent time watching it. I like the way Shao Peng stands up for himself, and I like that nothing that’s happened has been totally unbelievable or unreasonable (at least with the mains). I’ll be curious how the hard of hearing and deaf viewers respond to this one once it’s complete. 

Love is Like a Poison

This show is actually so funny. I love that Shiba is in his own lawyer genre separate from everyone else, and I really like how the two of these guys have become a team. I’m curious how they manage to resolve the scamming next week, but this has been the most unexpected dynamic of the year. 

Love in the Air: Koi no Yukon

MAME won this year, y’all. We all have complicated feelings about her, but she’s secured a loving adaptation from a Japanese team that’s put solid effort into bringing her characters to life. Every character feels correct compared to their Thai counterpart we saw on screen, and that’s a strong sign that the writing behind MAME’s work is strong, even if we all have issues with the way she tackles certain themes. I’m really impressed with this adaptation, and really like this version of Rain.I also feel like this show is doing a better job blending the forthcoming couple focus shift.

Our Youth

We just got this show, but damn does it feel sharp! I’m always going to be a sucker for a cinephile character, and I’m so compelled by the way Minase is drawn to Hirukawa. The scene in episode 2 where Minase has to leave Hirukawa’s house might be one of the most impressive sequences we’ve had in a while, requiring a great deal of choreography and effort from the actors and the camera crew to pull off, and I’m excited to see how these characters split and then come back together. 

Smells Like Green Spirit

Let me just say that I need another Abe Alan appearance when he isn’t playing a character doing horrible things to his students. I’ve enjoyed meditating on the 90s with this show and what that era felt like. I’ve liked how the show has tried to focus on how different parents (especially the moms) have responded to their kids coming to terms with themselves. I’ve also really enjoyed the friendship that’s grown between Mishima and Kirino. I’m struggling with Yumeno a lot, because I’m really not a friend of bully romances. Still, I feel like this is one of those shows I’ll remember for a long time because of its focus on the 90s. 

Blue Canvas of Youthful Days

I think @lurkingshan covered reactions to episode 5 and episode 6 better than I could, and I loved @twig-tea giving context for the film history moment in episode 6. I remember screaming into the chat for friends to show up for this when I got to that moment. This show has two great pairs of dynamics going on that mirror well. It’s got such a strong handle on its characters’ motivations and how they would respond to the actions from each other. It’s probably the tightest thing I’m watching now, backed by extremely dialed-in performances. I will be thinking about Qi Lu organizing his potential first kiss with Qin Xiao, and how unapologetic he’s been about the entire affair. He’s being selfish here, but I kinda like it. I’m so thankful that we are somehow still getting this show, because goddamn do the Chinese actors deliver on chemistry sometimes.

Interview With the Vampire Season 2

I finished this with a friend last week, and holy fuck is this show still so, so good. We watch a lot of gay romance because of BL, and I am having so much fun watching the show about gay divorce. I loved the time we spent in Paris, Daniel’s shifting role in the narrative, and the new insights we got into Lestat this season. I will miss Claudia so much, and I have to give a standing ovation to Delainey Hayles stepping into the role of Claudia and doing the damn thing this season. I just love seeing my little fucked up gay people torment each other on screen.

I'm still thinking about Louis and Lestat reuniting in a hurricane after Claudia derided this as yet another chapter in their stormy romance.

Dropped Shows

Unfortunately, everyone can’t win. Some of these shows are just too long for me to keep up with them, and oftentimes I get bored. I’ve currently dropped:

Lovesick 2024 - I may go back. We’ll see

Jack & Joker - It’s just too long, and they just killed Jennie and a kid. I’m good.

Fourever You - I’m bored with Earth always playing this character type.

Pluto - Namtam and Film are beautiful, but this looks too messy right now.

Every You, Every Me - Wasn’t intrigued after episode 1, but the commentary may draw me back.

Kidnap - Ohm is not enough to keep me invested in this show. 

Uncle Unknown - How did they make a 6 minute show feel slow?

I’m genuinely not trying to be harsh to Thai shows out here, but I just do not have the time to keep up with all of them when they’re this long and dragging.

Thanks for stopping by, and let me know if there’s something I missed that I should check out.