#she’s back with more fake instas cause this is the only feeling she finds | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lucyjay · 4 years ago

Text

Silver (b.bh)

||You and Baekhyun have been friends for the past couple years. What happens when you both develop feelings for each other but no one has the courage to admit it?

Genre: smut (a bit of fluff)

Warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, teasing, unprotected sex ( balloon your baboons fellahs), dirty talk, oral sex, fingering, cum play, throat fucking, hair pulling, multiple orgasms

Words: 6.5k

You throw a final look at your reflection in the mirror and sigh. I look like shit, you think to yourself and make your way to the bathroom to finish straightening your hair. The last thing you are in the mood for is clubbing but guess who won’t take no for an answer?your friend Nat who borderline blackmailed you into either joining her and your friends tonight or finding all your embarrassing high school photos displayed on your insta tomorrow morning.

After managing to make your hair not look like you got out of a cat fight, you put on some make up which for you consists of 3 simple steps. Step 1, hiding the black shopping bags that jewel your under eyes, Step 2, some blush so that you don’t resemble a ghost and Step 3, mascara. The final result looks better than you anticipated when you started getting ready over an hour ago.

A simple black baggie-t’shirt style dress, a pair of black boots, your straight hair naturally hugging your shoulders, falling all the way down to your waist and last your make up which thank god hides the fact that you’ve worked a total of 60 hours this week. It’s a nice, fresh spring night and you reckon you’d be okay without a jacket on. You throw your keys, phone and credit card in a small bag and make your way out of your apartment. Your find your uber already waiting for you outside the main entrance of the building, you jump in and decide to give your friend a call to check if they are already at the club.

“Hola”, her high pitched voice makes you chuckle, she still sounds like a 5 year old girl just like when you first met her.

“Hola. Sooo, I’m on my way, I should be there in like 20′ max. Who else is coming? Please tell me Sehun and Taeyong will be there? Taeyong promised he would make time if i joined you”, you protest already used to one of your best friends, Taeyong canceling on you lastminute.com because of work.

“They are already with me babe and we should reach the club in 10′ or so. Sara and Jaebum are coming as well, Bam is DJ’ing, oh and ahm”, she pauses and your heart starts racing subconsciously knowing what she is about to say. “..Baekhyun is coming”. You swear at her for not letting you know earlier and she mumbles apologies which leave you completely untouched.

“Nat, you did it on purpose”, you try to keep your tone calm only because your uber driver is already giving you some “lady keep your voice down” looks through the rear mirror.

“I didn’t but even if I did so what? We are all friends and it’s completely childish of both of you to put us in a position where we have to go out with each of you separately. Bam is worried and Sehun is having abandonment issues”, she whines dramatically and you hear Sehun in the background screaming, “I just want my friends back, oh god, please”, a fake cry following his oscar-worthy performance as you hear Taeyong burst into laughter a bit further in the background.

“Ok ok! I don’t care. I’m done playing his little games anyway. I wanna drink and have fun. See you in a bit”, you reply and hang up. The uber has reached the city centre and your gaze in boring outside the window looking at the people and the buildings but not really paying attention to anything. All you can think about is him. How things have completely gone to shit when they were so promising. You and Baekhyun met a a couple years ago when he started hanging out with Sehun who he met at work. The latest then brought him into your group and he clicked with all of you straight away.

Fast forward to a a few months ago, you were at one of BamBam’s house parties chilling and chatting away when he confessed that he likes you and he has been into you since the day he met you catching you completely off guard. You, having been crushing on the boy since the moment you laid your eyes on him, did what no 26 year old, sane woman would do and just bailed. Literally left him there, drink in hand, mouth hanging open in shock and you just left the house, got inside a taxi and went home. You were so embarrassed over your reaction and disappointed in yourself for ruining the perfect chance to be with the biggest crush you’ve had since middle school, that you couldn’t even bring yourself to message an apology to him. A few days later you all met at a cafe and that’s when it started. He was so cold and sulky towards you and who could blame him? But he was overdoing it to the point that it started pissing you off. You couldn’t get him to talk to you alone and eventually managed to get you to not stand being with him in the same room. Every time you met since then, it was just a verbal war between the two of you, full of sneaky insults and hurtful jokes with a drizzle of swear words and some whipped sarcasm on top.

“It’s just one night out. How bad can it get?”, you whisper only for your own ears to hear you. The uber slows down outside the club, you thank your driver and step out of the vehicle, gently closing the door behind you. The queue for the club isn’t too long and you can spot Nat,Tae and Sehun waiting on the left side where the VIP queue is forming. Sehun waves at you eagerly and you make your way to their direction.

“At least she is wearing a dress and not pyjamas”, Sehun teases and lifts you up in a hug that made you almost gasp for air.

“I am overworked, not lame. I now how to dress for a night out”, you spit back faking annoyance and the younger boy raises his hands in defence.

“Tough week at work?”, Taeyong asks as all four of you walk towards the entrance of the club.

“Everybody decided to get married at the end of summer apparently, so considering that I have to organise 9 weddings within the next 4 months, I would say tough year.”, you pause and your eyes follow the direction Taeyong is looking at and...there he is. Locking his car dressed like a bloody model straight out of a Vogue photoshoot. Black jeans, loose blue shirt, a silk navy blue scarf around his neck and a pair of black boots. “...and it’s not about to get better”, you finish your sentence.

Him being ridiculously attractive should have been something you were used to by now, but you haven’t seen him in almost a month and in all honesty you almost forgot how easily he makes your entire body go numb just by standing there not even looking at you. Too lost in your own thoughts you haven’t noticed him standing next to you greeting the others, ‘till he turns his attention to you. His hair is silver. Fuck him and his ability to look good in everything. Fuck him and his gorgeous face, you think to yourself.

“Your hair is longer”, he says in the most indifferent tone. Is this his idea of a greeting? Asshole, you think.

“Your hair is bloody silver”, you reply, your eyes not leaving his. He serves you a slight side smile and you can feel the insides of your palms getting sweaty.

“Looks good doesn’t it?”, he throws a rhetorical question not really waiting for an answer. You tsk and roll your eyes at him while quickly turning to get inside the club. BamBam was near the entrance to greet you and show you which table he reserved for you and your friends. You follow him and he leaves you shortly after to go and prepare his station for his set next to the man currently DJ’ing.

“I’m gonna go get drinks, what do you want?”, Baekhyun asks the rest of you.

“Let’s just get a bottle”, Nat proposes and you nod. “tequila or Vodka?”, she asks.

“Tequila”, you and Baekhyun shout in unison and you turn to look at each other. Are the lights in here making him look even more attractive or is it just you being horny for him? You give yourself a mental slap.

“Tequila is good”, Sehun adds. Baekhyun makes his way to the bar and Nat moves to your side, leaning next to your ear so that she doesn’t need to scream on top of the music.

“Make a move”, she says and you almost choke on your own spit.

“Are you insane? Haven’t you been around lately? I guess not. Let me fill you in. In the last episode of Season 2, he hates me. End of story”, you reply and she chuckles.

“He doesn’t hate you. He is just still hurt by your reaction back then. And you are clearly into him. Like, it’s clear like the sun. Like, I can see you undressing him with your eyes. I could legit-...”

“That’s enough! I got your point”, you cut her off and really wish Baek could get his ass there already cause you swear you would love to down that entire bottle of tequila right now.

“Babe, talk to him. It’s a shame. You have had feelings for each other for so long. You can’t just..leave it.”, she says and her tone is soothing and understanding. You turn to look at her and nod causing her to smile widely and clap her hands like a little kid who just got her birthday gift. A minute later Baek shows up with two bottles of tequila inside a bucket and a waitress follows right behind him with a tray full of glasses and ice which she lays on your table.

A few drinks down and you find yourself relaxed enough to be dancing with Taeyong like there’s no tomorrow, rocking some crazy moves perfectly nsync with BamBam’s wild beats. Taeyong’s hands are on your waist and you rest your head on his shoulder, your back against his chest as you sing every single lyric of the song currently blasting.

“I need another drink”, he screams over the music. You nod and make your way to the table where you find Nat and Sehun talking to Jaebum and Sara, a couple Nat met whilst on holidays in Japan, who happened to be from the same city as the rest of you. You chat with them for a few minutes, sipping on your drink when you realise you haven’t seen Baekhyun since returning to the table. After scanning the area around you, your gaze falls on Nat’s who mouths a silent “outside” to you, as if she has read your thoughts. You excuse yourself and make your way through the intoxicated crowd, eventually reaching the exit of the club. You step on the pavement and look up and down both directions to see if you can spot Baek. On the left side of the doors, a few meters away you can distinguish a frame that looks like him. You slowly make your way towards the man and after a few steps you can see his face clearer under the dull lighting the lamppost covers the corner of the street with. He was staring at the ground, cigarette in between his index and middle finger. You clear your throat and he turns to look at you.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t see you”, he says calmly, taking a puff of his cigarette, quickly letting a line of smoke out of his nostrils.

“You smoke”, you say and it’s more like a realisation and less like a question. Your stare drifts off of his face and down to his feet as if his shoes are the most interesting thing to you.

“Yes, got a problem with that?’, he turns to look at you and you raise your head to meet his eyes. You can’t read him. You never could. He looks unbothered yet sounds annoyed. It’s so frustrating and you swear at yourself for even thinking of approaching him. You scoff and turn to leave, sure that you’re clearly not wanted there.

“That’s the second time”, he says and his voice is low but you can sense a weak scent of irony lingering at the end of his word. You stop in your trucks and turn to face him.

“What was that?”, you ask.

“It’s the second time you walk away from me. There won’t be a third”, his statement catches you off guard but you’re not planning on letting him see the affect his words have on you.

“I suppose you came out here to get some air, I wanted to check if you’re alright but you’re clearly not up for a chat. Am I wrong for thinking that the best thing to do was to excuse myself?”, you regret the slight sarcasm in your words which was completely unintended. His attention lands on your face. There’s at least 2 meters distance between yourself and him but for some reason you feel like you’re suffocating. His presence is so strong that you can’t even think straight. Without taking his eyes off of yours, he throws his cigarette somewhere to the side and with two steps he is standing right in front of you. You can smell the smoke on him but it doesn’t bother you; his cologne in combination with his addictive natural scent are enough to make your head hazy. He shouldn’t be able to affect you like this.

“Excuses”, his voice comes out like a loud whisper and you feel embarrassed at how it makes your entire lower body go numb and the sensitive area between your legs pulsate. His stare is so heavy that it almost makes you feel small. He moves a bit closer to you and you can almost feel his body touching yours.

“Baekhyun, I’m...”, your voice fades out unable to complete the sentence. Your eyes still on his like magnets. You can’t see anything around you but him.

“Finish your sentence Y/N”, he says calmly. You gather all the courage you could before you allow the confessions that you have been battling all these months, come out. It’s so hard but you know you have to. You have to give it a shot.

“I’m sorry. For that day.”, you say and his features rest in a slight shock which only encourages you to continue.

“I’m sorry i left you like that and that I didn’t explain myself. I’m sorry that I never called you after what happened. But what I’m not sorry about is what happened afterwards. You were so mean to me and you refused to talk to me. Your behaviour was horrible and I don’t take back anything I’ve said to you every time we fought”. You swear your knees are about to give out and your breathing is so heavy that you can feel your chest rising and falling as if you were running. You heart beating in your head is making you dizzy and you pray that you won’t just faint right there and then.

“You don’t regret anything you’ve said to me all the times we fought?”, he asks and you feel a pinch of annoyance that this was the only part of your paragraph long monologue he chose to focus on.

“Nothing. You started every single fight”, your statement came out strong and your voice way too stable given your current state. You congratulate yourself in your head. As if that was even possible, Baekhyun steps even closer to you, now trapping you between his body and the wall. You can feel his torso pushing yours backwards only for the back of your waist to land on his right hand, his left one resting on the wall slightly brushing your cheek.

“I swear I would take you against this fucking wall just to shut this annoying mouth of yours”, his lips almost touching yours. You can feel his breath on your face and his words wake the butterflies in your stomach. You’re mad at yourself for feeling so weak under his stare. It takes you a few seconds to realise that you have been holding in a breath. You just stand there, frozen, eyes glued on his honey brown ones when the words roll out of your tongue without second thought.

“Why don’t you then?”, you speak in a low voice that even gives you goosebumps. Your boldness surprises him and he shakes his head.

“I shouldn’t. I-..”

“Excuses”, you cut him off and you catch him so off guard that if it wasn’t for you being an absolute mess right now, his shocked stare would have had you chuckling. He raises his hand to caress your cheek and the way his knuckles softly touch your skin makes your entire body shiver. He doesn’t allow you to let the sudden skinship action sink in when he tilts his head only to rest his forehead against yours.

“I don’t know what to do with you anymore. Please tell me Y/N. Just tell me what you want”, he pleads and the entirety of your body heat is now resting on your face. You have never seen Baekhyun like this, basically asking you to take the upper hand. You rest your arms on his and connect your hands behind his neck.

“I want you Baekhyun. I don’t even remember how it was not to want you.”, you inhale and the air entering your nostrils feels too hot “...let’s go back to yours.Or mine, I don’t care”. The moment you finished your sentence Baekhyun’s hand was on yours, already guiding you towards the direction of his car. He open the door for you to get in and a second later he jumps in the driver’s seat.

Baekhyun’s eyes are glued on the road and his grip on the wheal is strong. You take a minute to examine his side profile and your eyes linger on each of his beautiful features. His beautiful honey-brown eyes, his straight nose and his soft, pink lips that are currently pressed into a thin line as if he is trying hold back a river of words threatening to fall out. Your hands are resting on your thighs which you’re pressing together in a desperate attempt to ease the buzzing in your lower area. You are already so embarrassingly wet, even though Baek hasn’t even touched you, which makes you realise how wrong all your past partners must have been treating you. Not able to stand the distance between the two of you, you place your hand on top of his right thigh, slowly dancing your fingers up and down the area. He shakes his head, momentarily closing his eyes only to open them a second later. His stare is intense but you can’t read it properly.

“Babe...”, he says and your hand movement stops at the sound of the nickname. Feeling more aroused by the second, you bend slightly over so that your lips are brushing against his ear.

“What...babe?”, you tease and he grips the wheel with such strength that it looks like he is trying to break it in half.

“Finish your sentence Baek”, you continue and at this point you know you’re playing with fire. He turns to give you a look for a split second, his eyes filled with something unknown to you and a slight smirk is gracing his beautiful lips.

“Sit back properly, take off your underwear and open your legs.”, you’re looking at him, eyes wide open in shock. His habit of bossing you around would normally have you ignoring his ass, maximum serving him an eyeroll as a response, but now it’s different. Your brain hasn’t even had the time to comprehend the possible consequences of his request, when you find your hands slowly sliding the sides of your underwear down your legs. Before you manage to even speak a word, his slender fingers are caressing the inside of your thighs and you throw your head back, eyes shut in an attempt to keep yourself under control. His middle finger and index travel all the way to your sensitive area and you let out a low gasp when you feel them on your heat.

“Holy fuck...”, he says and inserts one finger inside your throbbing pussy. You moan out his name as his digit is hitting you exactly on the right spot and you can’t see it but there’s a victory smile resting on his lips.

“Baek wait...”, you try to complain but it’s in vain. He adds a second finger and while keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel, driving almost at 150 km/h, he is steadily bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. You turn your head to the side, your eyes linger on his frame when you start feeling a knot forming on the lower part of your abdomen. You gather all the strength left in your body to lift your arm and tangle your fingers with his silver locks, slightly pulling his head backwards. He hisses and fastens the tempo of his fingers, his palm now coming in contact with your clit. You know you aren’t going to last long. Your walls start pulsating around his skilful digits and the car stops at a red light which finally allows him to focus his attention on you for at least a few seconds.

“I can’t wait to feel you clenching around my dick baby”, he says and you can feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm.

“Does my baby like dirty talk?”, he teases you and you pull his hair a tad stronger than before.

“I want you to come before the light turns green, you have approximately..”, he pauses to calculate the other traffic lights at the crossing, “...10-15 seconds?”, he adds driving his fingers in and out your pussy at a frenzy rhythm. You can’t handle the tension anymore.

“Baek, I can’t-...”, you swear you could cry with all this tension gathered on your lower body. You’re so close you can sense your orgasm.

“9..”, he says, his eyes piercing yours.

“Fuck, no I can’t”, you close your eyes, trying to control your body. It’ll be too much, you don’t want to come here in his car.

“Open your eyes and look at me. 6″, he counts and you do as you’re told. His palm hitting your sensitive clit is sending vibrations all the way to your head and you swear you wouldn’t be able to spell out your own name at this moment if you had to.

“I’m so close, I’m- Baek please...’, you whine and you can feel your walls clenching like crazy, swallowing his fingers. He places his other hand around your neck, squeezing gently and you’re a goner. Your orgasm crushes through you like fireworks and you can’t stop yourself from grinding down against his fingers, greedily trying to ride the explosive feeling out.

“That’s my girl”, he flashes you a satisfied smile and removes his fingers from your pussy at once. You grimace at the loss of contact but you’re too occupied trying to gather your thoughts and get yourself together, to pay further attention. The car is already on the move and before you can fathom what’s happening, he is parking in front of a building. Your eyes feel heavy but only at the thought of what’s coming, you feel the knot in your stomach tighten again. Baek steps out of the car and opens the door for you. You take a second to put your underwear back on, and you step outside the vehicle likewise. He locks it and starts walking towards the entrance of the block of flats before you, his hand in yours as your steps shadow his. You walk up the stairs and stop at the first floor. He stands outside a door and takes out his keys to unlock it when he turns to face you for the first time since he had you coming all over his fingers in his car.

“Before we get in I need to tell you something”, he warns and his eyes are examining your face. You step closer to him, your arm brushing against his.

“What is it Baek?”, your voice sounds so sweet and the way you say his name has him melting.

“If we do this, there’s no disappearing in the morning. There’s no going back to how things were. If you don’t want to stay and if you don’t want to be with me, leave now. This can’t be a one-time thing for me. That’s not what I want.”, he takes a deep breath as if he just gave the most important speech of his life. Your mouth hangs open at his sudden confession and you feel a stink of guilt that you’ve made him so uneasy; scared that you would run away from him and disappear. You grab his keys and unlock the door which opens wide in front of you. You step inside his flat and turn your head to face him.

“Do you prefer eggs or pancakes for breakfast?”, you ask him while taking off your shoes. He steps in and shuts the door behind him. Walking backwards you start unbuttoning your dress, “...I prefer something sweet in the morning to be honest”, you’re teasing and you reach the last button. You take another step backwards and you can feel his eyes burning on you. He is following each step you take, mirroring your movements now taking off his shirt. You let the dark fabric of your dress fall down your body and pool around your ankles. Baekhyun stops in his tracks, half naked and the lust in his eyes could make you come right there and then. You are about to take another step backwards when he nods you negatively.

“Don’t move”, the words come out as a soft command and you listen, standing there only in your lace black underwear, looking at him basically begging him to do something. He hasn’t even kissed you. He is the only man that has given you an orgasm without touching you anywhere else, not even a peck on the lips. He takes his time roaming his gaze along your body, his eyes resting on your breasts a second longer.

“I want you to kiss me”, you let out before you realise the words leaving your mouth. He focuses his attention back on your face and your body is about to burst from the need to feel him closer in any way. He is slowly walking towards you while taking off his trousers, leaving his body now covered only by his black boxers.

“Your entire face is blushing, you’ve been squeezing your thighs together, your breathing is unsteady and you’re giving me blowjob eyes”, hie finishes his sentence when standing a breath away from you. “...you want me to do more than just kiss you baby”, you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding in and he smiles. He is so infuriating standing there, laughing at the misery he has put you in. You can’t let him play you like this.

“If you think you can..-”

“Shut up”, he says and you can’t tell who initiated it but his lips are on yours, kissing and biting as if your mouth is the last source of air and he needs it to survive. His right hand finds purchase on your ass, squeezing tightly pushing you closer to his body and his other hand grabs the back of your head, deepening the kiss. You can feel your underwear sticking on your dump heat and you squeeze your legs together trying to give yourself some comfort. Baekhyun breaks the kiss, bringing his lips next to your ear.

“Is my baby wet?Again?”, he cooes and you wanna smack him across the face because he fucking knows you are.

“Yes I am, and if you don’t do something about it soon I’m gonna have to get myself off”, you lilt and turn to enter his room. It’s way cosier than you would have imagined, with a queen size bed in the middle. You seat at the edge of it and you open your legs as seductively as you can, covering the fact that they’re shivering in anticipation. He enters the room and his eyes are darker than before, his erection clearly visible through his boxers making your mouth water. You cock an eyebrow at him but he doesn’t move. That’s it, you can’t waste anymore time waiting for him to do something. You get up and get on your knees in front of him, removing his underwear with a single movement before you place your palm around his shaft.

“What the fuck Y/N”, he breathes out and his knees turn weak under your touch.

“I’m done waiting for you Byun. Took you 2 years to kiss me. I can’t imagine how long it’ll take you to fuck me”, he is about to protest when you lean forward, putting his dick in your mouth, your nose against his lower belly. His complain turns into a moan when he throws his head back, hands now landing in your hair, pulling slightly. Your lips move around his member, followed by your tongue, hand resting on his balls slightly massaging them. You lick a long stripe from the base of his dick, all the way to the end while pressing your lips around it and then release it with a slight ‘pop’. A string of saliva connecting your mouth with his tip. You open your eyes only to find his intense stare already on your frame, cheeks on fire and mouth agape in an attempt to inhale as much air as he can.

“Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you look right now? I swear I would do anything, anything you want If I could only see you like this everyday”, his voice cracks at the last words and he is slightly releasing his grip on your hair. Your hand still working its way up and down his dick, you tilt your head onwards to give small kitty licks on his tip. You take his hand and while serving him a cheeky smile you place it so that his fingers are cupping the upper part of your neck, right under your jaw. It takes him a moment to understand what you’re thinking and when it hits him, he lets out a desperate breath. You move your chin in front of his dick, lips almost touching his slit currently dripping with pre-cum.

“Apologise for being an asshole these last few months”, you spit.

“Fuck you”. The moment the words slip his lips you open your mouth, taking him so deep that you can feel his tip touching the back of your throat. He moans out your name and you feel your pussy pulsating in the sound. It takes all the self control you can manifest in order to not sneak your fingers inside your knickers and relieve some of the tension.

“I can feel my dick down your throat baby, agh fuck”, he hisses and pulls your hair as you take him as deep as you can once again only that this time you keep him there, swallowing again and again with his dick buried as deep as your throat can take it. A tear rolls down your face and your gag reflex is threatening to kick in, but you refuse to let go before he begs.

“Fuck Y/N, please. please stop, I don’t wanna cum. Fuck please, don’t-”, you release him and you snap him your best victory smile. after whipping your mouth with the back of your palm. You get up and move towards the bed, this time laying on top of it.

“I think I prefer you begging than apologising”, you tease and an unintentional giggle follows.

“You fucking bitch”, he spits jokingly and you burst into laughter but it doesn’t last long. The next moment he is hovering on top of you, lips on yours, hands cupping every curve of your body unable to hold back anymore. He is devouring your neck, jaw and moves lower to leave dark marks on your breasts. In a swing movement he unclips your bra, throwing it behind him next to his long forgotten underwear. Your underwear is next and before you know it, his face is resting between your legs, blowing tiny waves of air on your heat, driving you crazier if that was even possible at this point. He plants small kisses around the area, next to your folds while his hands are massaging the inside of your thighs. Your head falls back to meet his soft pillow and you moan out his name, incapable of hiding the mess he has made of you. Without any warning his soft tongue crushes on your burning area, devouring you as if you were his last meal. Your head is now a foggy mess, hands tangled between his silver locks unconsciously pushing him against your pussy, desperate for more friction. He rests his tongue on your sensitive bud of nerves, dancing in slow circles when he enters two digits in you causing you to let out the most animalistic moan you’ve ever heard yourself producing. Your reaction was the confirmation he was seeking, as his tongue picks up its pace and so do his fingers, his name rolls off your tongue like a cursed poem, again and again until you can feel yourself falling off the edge. He lands a last kiss on your pubic bone as he slowly climbs up your body, now hovering above you. You open your eyes, realising you had them wide shut all this time, only to find his beautiful brown ones staring at you in the most loving way you’ve ever had anyone looking at you.

“So pretty”, he whispers and his fingers linger on your lips and make their way to your cheek where he leaves a shy kiss. You can feel his dick between your legs, yours thrown around his waist and you just stay there, in silence looking in each others eyes. You bring your hand to the side of his jaw only to pull him closer, planting a kiss on his lips. It’s not deep; it’s soft, and sweet, almost romantic. You break it after a few seconds and you rest your forehead on his. A word is about to escape your lips when he frantically drives his length inside you, hitting your g spot so hard that you almost choke at your own gasp.

“Baek, fuck”, you whine. He doesn’t say anything, he only pulls out a little bit and then thrusts back in, hitting that sweet spot that has you seeing stars. He does it again and again and again and you are a moaning mess, head thrown back, his diving in the crook of your neck, sucking, bitting, leaving purple spots in every area he can get his lips on.

“You want me to stop?”, he says out of breath without slowing down at the slightest. You attack his lips and the kiss is nothing like the one you just shared a few moments ago. It’s hungry and desperate and your tongues are fighting for dominance, both your mouths swallowing each others moans. You can feel your pussy throbbing around his dick and you know you wont last long. Baekhyun breaks the kiss but stays close so that his lips can still touch yours.

“Are you close baby? You want to cum? Want to come all over my dick?”, he breathes out and you moan out his name, paralysed under his touch.

“Baek I’m close-I’m gonna..”, a circular move of his hips almost brings you to the brink and you moan out cusses with no meaning. You clench around him once more and he lets out a loud groan.

“Y/N If you do that one more time I won’t be able to hold back. Please”, he pleads and you can see that he is trying to hold back so that you can finish first. His dick fucking into you at a relentless pace has your arms pulling his body closer to yours, nails digging in his back and you know these scratches will be visible for next few days.

“Baek I can’t hold it, please”, you moan out.

“Let go baby, let go. Cum for me”, he whispers next to your ear and there’s nothing in the world you want more than to feel him painting your insides with his orgasm.

“Cum inside Baek, Please, cum with me, ah-”, your orgasm hits you mid-sentence and you clench again and again as it keeps attacking your body in waves. After a couple thrusts you can feel him releasing into you as he lets his body collapse on top of yours, both of you battling to calm your breathing.

“I blame you for missing on the best sex I’ve ever had for the past two years”, you tease him softly and he chuckles. You raise your hand to place a stray hair behind his ear and you can’t help but notice the slight rosiness on his cheeks. ‘what?’, you ask flushing him your warmest smile.

“Be mine?”, his lets out as he rubs his nose against the tip of yours. Your heart skips a bit and a wave of warmth crushes through you, for you haven’t felt so happy in a long, long time.

“Hm, nope, thanks”, you giggle and you kiss him. He is taken aback by your reply, staring at you with eyes wide open like a frightened deer caught in the headlights.

“I’m joking baby”, you spit and burst into laughter.

“You bitch”, he laughs.

250 notes · View notes

bugabash · 3 years ago

Text

Hold Me While We Fall Chapter 4

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Child abuse, domestic abuse, depressed little Plagg and abusive Gabriel!! This chapter is about Plagg's childhood up to when he joins the cadets, there are heavy themes of abuse and graphic descriptions, please be aware of this when reading this chapter! The next chapter will not have this as it will be from when he is away from his father! Also sorry for disappearing lol, I got distracted by drawing :D Please enjoy ^.^

All art is on my insta! Tumblr has shot the quality

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Plagg's Backstory Part 1: Tragic Childhood

Edward Phillip Agreste was born in the year 827 during one of the coldest winters the people within the walls had ever experienced. A blizzard raged on as the small, frail boy came into the world earlier than he should have, his hair as black as the night and his eyes a dark green. His mother cradled the sickly child as he cried out into the night, declaring he was a treasure she had waited her whole life for and that she loved him more than life, all while his father watched from a distance. Edward was born in the first year of the marriage between the cruel and feared Commander of the Military Police, Gabriel Agreste and Emilie Agreste.

Being their first born son and the heir, a lot of responsibility fell onto his tiny shoulders as soon as he took his first breath, and with that came his father’s high expectations. Gabriel watched from across the room, watching the frail boy with narrowed eyes.

Emilie looked up and smiled at her husband, “Gabriel, come and hold him.” She said, shifting the crying boy in her arms for her husband to take him. Gabriel approached the bed, a look of disgust on his face. “Isn’t he perfect.” She stated, looking up at Gabriel with love in her green eyes.

“Don’t make me laugh.” He replied in disgust, Emilie’s smile faltering and she pulled the baby closer to her. “Look at that child, he is too sick to survive. I find it hard to believe it’s even mine. I could never make something so… weak.”

“What?” Emilie exclaimed, “how could you say that? He’s our son! Please, Gabriel!” Gabriel glared at the screaming infant before he turned and left, ignoring his wife’s pleas.

From that day, Edward’s father rejected him and openly spoke about his distaste for the boy when in the walls of their home but he had to accept that he was the new heir and so he set extremely high expectations for the boy. As Edward grew up he felt the hatred from his father and endured constant mental and, by the age of four, physical abuse for misbehaving or simply getting too much attention from his mother.

As he grew into a young boy he grew stronger but still struggled at times with his health, spending many nights up coughing in his bed while his mother stroked his hair, singing to him. But even with his poor health he grew rather tall for his age, with lanky arms and legs with a skinny physique, which he discovered was an advantage when he found he loved climbing trees and buildings to escape from his father and the military police. He was known in the town as mischievous and always getting into trouble, which in turn brought on more trouble from his father when he would be at home.

Plagg was sitting at the large dining table a few days before his fifth birthday, eating his dinner in silence sitting across from his mother, poking at the way too big portion in front of him. He hated the family meals, he saw poverty in the city all the time, saw the children at his school who barely ate, so seeing the big meal in front of him made him lose his appetite.

He had a newly black eye and a split lip from a beating from his father for getting caught exploring the military police headquarters earlier in the day, the throbbing a familiar feeling to him now. He looked up at his mother who was quietly eating, her eyes downcast onto her food, purposefully avoiding looking at him. He wondered if she ever questioned his father’s actions towards him or if she spoke up for him when he wasn’t there like she used to, but he had learnt long ago that speaking out to his father resulted in punishment. He remembered the bruises he saw on her when he was smaller, he hated them on her face, remembering the pain he saw he had caused, so he never spoke up to her.

“Edward.” He heard his father’s blunt tone boom across the table, making him flinch and look toward his father who sat at the head of the table, his light brown hair in his usual slicked back style, his piercing blue eyes boring into him causing a cold sweat down his back.

“Yes, father?” He responded, sitting up straight and placing his hands in his lap as he avoided his father’s gaze.

“Your mother is pregnant it seems.” He said bluntly, picking up his cutlery and started cutting up his dinner, his eyes leaving Edward and looking down at his food. Edward’s eyes widened and he looked over at his mother who finally looked at the small boy and smiled, her hands over her stomach, “so you need to stop being such a nuisance and causing so many problems for me.” Edward gripped his hands in his fist tightly, looking down at them, “you will hopefully have a brother, a good and proper boy unlike you,” Edward gulped, and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Gabriel, don’t speak to him like that.” Emilie spoke up, Edward’s eyes shooting open and he looked up at his mother in shock, “please.”

“I will talk to him however I want, Emilie.” Gabriel boomed out, “Edward, if it is a boy and he is… a more appealing son he will inherit what you are meant to and will take your place.” Edward gulped, his black spiky hair shading his face, as his eyes moved to his father, he didn’t understand a lot of what was said but he knew he felt hurt and betrayed, “I hope this one isn’t a disappointing mangey stray cat like you.” Edward looked down, he hated being called that. His father told him he was an unlucky black cat all the time, saying he wasn’t even worthy of being called the black sheep of the family. And because other’s had heard his father calling him that, the kids in the city called him that too, which ended up with him getting into a fight over it.

“So,” He spoke up in his soft voice, “I’m going to have a baby brother or sister?” He asked looking up at his mother who smiled at him.

“Yes, dear, you’re going to be a big brother.” She said before standing up and walking over to Plagg, pulling him into her arms as she knelt by his chair. He wrapped his arms around her neck and hugged her tight.

“Do not coddle the boy, my love. He is not worth it.” Gabriel said before he started eating his dinner. Plagg gritted his teeth together before pulling away from his mother and ran from her and the table. He felt his eyes hot with tears as he pulled the door open and started running to his room, hearing his mother calling for him. He hated his life, he only knew comfort from his mother and when he was high in a tree or a building. But maybe, being a big brother would change things. Maybe…

Eight months later, Edward stood at the doorway to his mother’s room as the doctor smiled at him, the room was filled with the soft cries of a baby. His mother lay in the bed, her hair drenched and a smile on her face as she cradled the small child. Edward had been woken up that morning to his mother’s screaming and was told she was in labour. Seeing her now, she looked tired but happy. She glanced up and saw him, reaching a hand out to him.

“Edward, come and meet your new baby brother, Adrien.” She said softly, Edward nodded and ran over to her, climbing onto the bed and moving close to her. He looked down at the small baby in her arms, he was bundled up in a green blanket, his small bits of hair a prominent platinum blonde and his little hands in fists. Edward blinked before he reached out and stroked the boy’s head, smiling at him. Adrien opened his eyes and seemed to look directly at Edward, his eyes were green, just like both his and his mother’s. Edward gasped as they locked eyes, Adrien grabbing onto his thumb with one of his small hands, his cries stopping and instead silence filled the air. “He likes you.” His mother whispered with a laugh.

“Hello Adrien.” Edward said softly, his heart skipping a beat and his mind racing. “I promise to be the best big brother ever. I won’t let anyone hurt you. Cross my heart and hope to die.” He said confidently. He looked at his mother who was smiling lovingly at them, “it’s a man’s promise.”

Age: 7

Plagg sat on his windowsill looking out over city of Stohess from the giant, eye sore of a fortress he called home. He hated the look of everything here, it was too clean, too fake. He huffed and stood up, curling his toes over the edge of the stone windowsill. His bedroom window was high up, high enough that one misstep and his father would get his wish of him not existing anymore. But he liked it up here, it was free. He smiled and closed his eyes as the wind blew, raising his arms up and imagining he was flying through the air, no cares in the world, forest surrounding him and the sound of nature, not rich snobs complaining about the poor. He felt weightless, free, and-

“Edward!” He heard his mother scream before he was pulled back, her arms wrapped around his small body tightly as she fell back onto the floor. His mother still called him by his actual name and not the name he had stuck with after his little brother Adrien started calling him Plagg when he started speaking. He didn’t mind but he had now grown to hate his real name, it felt too formal.

Plagg blinked and held onto his mother’s arms, looking up at her and meeting her green eyes. They were wide and full of panic as she stared at him. He blinked a few more times before he wriggled out of her arms and sat in front of her, his dark green eyes watching her as he sulked.

“Edward, you can’t do that! What if you had fallen?” She exclaimed as she moved to her knees, reaching out and taking his hands. “You need to stop this! I cannot lose you, do you understand?”

Plagg just looked at her before huffing and pulling his hands away and hugging his knees to his chest. “Who even cares. I know father doesn’t.” He grumbled out, resting his bruised cheek on his knee as he looked away.

His mother sighed before shifting closer, “but I do.” She said reaching out and gently cupping his face and making him look at her. He looked up at her reluctantly before leaning into her warm, accepting touch. “I care more than anyone ever will, because you’re my little lucky black kitten.” Plagg felt his heart jump at the nickname, his mother had started calling him her lucky black cat or kitten since his father had started calling him an unlucky black cat the years before when Plagg had got in trouble again with the military police for climbing buildings and throwing eggs at them. He closed his eyes and felt his lip tremble before he crawled forward into his mother’s loving arms. He curled up in her lap as she held him, stroking his unruly black hair.

“Why does father hate me?” He asked softly, “what did I do?” He felt tears filling his eyes and he never wanted to leave his mother’s arms.

“He doesn’t hate you.” She whispered softly, kissing his forehead and twisting one of the locks that stood up on his head. “He just doesn’t see how special you are.” She cupped his face and smiled lovingly down at him, “he doesn’t see the bright light inside of you that I see.”

“But… I just break everything I touch.” He grumbled, wiping his nose on his sleeve, “Father said that I am more of burden than anything.” He looked away. “He wishes I wasn’t born.”

She took a deep breath and leant down and kissed his forehead again, “don’t listen to him, he is just bitter. Bitter people have the worst opinions on others because they don’t even like themselves.” He looked up at her, blinking away his tears. “You were my first ever treasure in life, my black haired beauty.” She said with a beaming smile, swooping him up in her arms and standing up, walking over to his bed and lying them down, snuggling him close, “you came into this world screaming your lungs out, so vocal and opinionated and you wanted everyone to know.” She chuckled, Plagg snickering softly, “and when I first held you I felt so happy, I felt like I was almost complete, your love filling a giant hole in my life.”

“Almost?” Plagg asked hesitantly, the fear of being rejected by his mother too overtaking him.

“Well of course,” She said softly, stroking a strand of hair out of his face, “and then five years later I was made fully complete when I held both you and your brother in my arms.” Plagg’s fear disappeared just as it arrived, smiling up at her. “You two complete me, you make me whole and my love for you will be with you forever.”

“Do you promise?” Plagg asked softly, his eyes begging her.

“Cross my heart and hope to die.” She replied, crossing over her heart and smiling at him. He smiling his Cheshire cat smile that he was known for, usually it was for mischief, but now it was filled with love. He buried himself in his mother’s arms, nuzzling against her chest, breathing in her scent and feeling her love. He could stay there forever.

If only he could have. But reality took over and soon he was back in his father’s office for something he had done, he wasn’t even entirely sure what exactly. He wore a bandage stuck to his cheek over a cut on his cheek bone under his black eye, a fresh cut on his nose and a split lip from the hits he had just received. He stood there trembling, his hands in fists by his side as he stared up at his father. He was confused and his heart hurt, why was he treated like this? Why? What did he do?

“Father…” He trembled out, Gabriel turning and looking at him as he frowned, wiping his cane with a handkerchief. “Why do you hate me?” He asked genuinely, “I don’t understand!”

“Why?” Gabriel questioned with a raised brow as he approached the boy, kneeling in front of him, Plagg’s eyes widening in fear. “Because from the moment you were born, even before that, you have brought me nothing but problems and when I look at you, I see a failed experiment.” Plagg gulped, “I hate you, because you should never have survived, and now your disgraceful actions and you just breathing brings shame to me and the Agreste name.” Plagg backed off, Gabriel smiling wickedly, “does that answer your question, you mangey cat?” Plagg gulped before turning and running from the office, breathing heavily and regretting even asking him. The words echoing his mind.

“You should never have survived.” Well, that just made Plagg more determined than ever to survive. He ran as fast as he could as he sobbed, he would escape this life. Nothing was going to stop him, not even his father.

Age: 9

“You mangy street cat!” Gabriel boomed before he struck his eldest son across the face with his cane, sending him to the floor with a yelp, cradling his wounded cheek. He gritted his teeth and glared up at his father, his eyes wide, his dark green eyes small and cat like as they glared at him, his teeth bared and his hands clenching into fists.

“Stop it!” Plagg yelled, grabbing one of the fire prongs from the fireplace and rolling to his feet, using the lessons his father demanded he did now being used against him. “Don’t touch me!”

“You dare bare a weapon against me after the shit you caused today?” Gabriel spat back, disgust all over his face. His greying brown hair was unruly, unlike the usual comb back he had, he was in his pyjamas and his expression was evil. They were in his office after Military Police had shown up with a handcuffed Plagg who was caught trying to escape out the main gate in the middle of the night. After that he was dragged to his father’s office and well, now here he was, nose bleeding, a pain in his side and a swollen cheek.

“I haven’t done anything! Nothing! I don’t deserve this!” He screamed, tightening his grip, “I haven’t done anything to you! All I did was be born! I didn’t ask to be born!” He screamed, tears streaming down his face.

“Watch your fucking mouth!” Gabriel spat back, raising his cane again as a threat.

“NO!” Plagg screamed desperately, “I don’t get it! Why? Why do you keep hitting me?” He felt tears stinging his cheek, “I’m a KID! I’m just a kid!”

“You are nothing more than a poison on this family!” His father responded.

“Says who? You?” His voice cracked as he screeched, “I’ve done nothing, father! I… I just wanted you to love me!”

“Love you?” Gabriel questioned before he scoffed, “I wish you were dead.”

He hated this man so much, he saw how evil he was, he was never loved by him, always looked at like he put a disgusting taste in his father’s mouth, so now, images of stabbing him with the fire prong came to mind and he felt the rage to put the action behind the thoughts. He felt the destruction in his body, he wanted to destroy everything. But then he saw images of his mother and he stopped, freezing in his place and it was just long enough for his father to step forward and smack him across the face with his stick, black taking over.

A while later he had come too, lying on the cold stone corridor outside his father’s study, he must have just been thrown out of the room by his father, his clothes cold and wet from his blood. He winced and slowly got to his feet, gripping his side and making his way to his room slowly to clean himself off. He limped up the stairs, passing his younger brother’s room and closing the door to his own. He leant against the door and stared at the floor in the dark. He wanted to cry, he thought it would be a natural response in a situation like this but, for him, this was normal.

So instead, he limped over to the sink in the corner of his room and started running the water, stripping his wet shirt off and throwing it into a bucket near him. He sighed and looked at himself in the mirror, the moon shining in on him and lighting up his bruised and bloody face, his freckles standing out against the redness, his eyes dancing down to his skinny physique. He had a giant bruise over his left side, an old wound having opened up and crusted over while he was unconscious. He gently cleaned it, wrapping his torso in a bandage with practiced ease. His lower face was covered in crusted and fresh blood, a weeping cut on his swollen cheek and a small cut over his eyebrow. He hissed as he dabbed it with a wet towel, this was always the worst part. He was a master at cleaning wounds and bandaging himself up now after years of abuse from his father, hell he had mastered it by the time Adrien was born.

“Plagg?” He jumped and spun around, eyes wide with fear of another beating, spotting the big, green eyes in the shadows on his bed. He let out his breath in relief and relaxed as he saw his four year old brother crawl over his bed and look at him as he knelt in the middle, rubbing his eyes. “You have a booboo, should I get mommy?” He asked in that innocent voice that always made Plagg smile. He was dressed in a matching green long sleeve pyjama set, his blonde hair unruly and sticking up in odd ways, unlike his usually perfectly combed hair.

“Nah, I’m okay. Your big brother just was out exploring and got into some trouble.” He said softly, walking over and kneeling in front of the bed as Adrien sat on the edge. He shielded his brother from his father’s cruelty, making sure he was protected and didn’t have the childhood he had, filled with abuse and hate. He smiled at the small boy, he must have snuck into Plagg’s room looking for him and just fallen asleep again. “It’s late, you should be asleep kiddo.”

“I came looking for you.” Adrien replied as he rubbed his eyes, “I heard yelling and got scared. But you weren’t here.” Adrien blinked up at Plagg before reaching out and patting his cheek gently.

“I’m sorry, kid, but you know even if I’m not here that you’re safe in my room.” Plagg said with a smile, even though it hurt and it pulled on the cut on his lip, he ignored it. “Let me just get cleaned up and we can go to sleep, okay? I’m assuming you’re camping with me tonight?”

Adrien grinned and nodded, clambering to his feet and bouncing on the bed, “Yes, yes, yes!” He said each word on each bounce, spinning and bouncing as Plagg laughed and went back to the sink to clean himself off properly.

He watched Adrien in the mirror, smiling and unscathed, a boy who could act his age and hadn’t matured so young from darkness. That was another reason why he would take his father’s beatings, because then Adrien would be safe. He would kill that man if he ever laid a finger on Adrien. He didn’t even feel the pain anymore, determination filling his body as he finished up, placing his bandages over his small wounds, glad he had the sticky one to keep them on his skin. He pulled on a dark grey shirt he found on the floor and limped over to his bed that he always thought was way too big for just one person.

He climbed in and Adrien hurriedly crawled over, climbing under the covers and snuggling close to his brother, Plagg smiling and hugging his baby brother protectively. He lay there, his arm tucked under his head as he looked into the darkness, the light glow from the moon comforting to him, as well as his baby brother gripping onto his shirt and humming softly.

“Plagg?” He heard Adrien say softly, snuggling into Plagg’s chest.

“Yeah?” Plagg replied softly.

“Can you tell me the story again?” Adrien asked softly, lifting his small black cat toy and bouncing the legs on Plagg’s chest like it was walking.

“Sure.” Plagg responded, rolling over and looking up at the roof, chuckling at his little brother using him as part of his imagination. “There once was a little black kitten who nobody wanted. They said he brought bad luck with him because of how he looked. The people would throw things, chase him away and would blame any misfortune on him.” Plagg said softly, Adrien resting the cat on Plagg’s chest now, listening intently. “The black cat never understood why people didn’t like him or why they mistreated him, he couldn’t help how he was or looked, all he wanted was to make friends and to be part of a family.”

“Because he didn’t have one.” Adrien added.

“That’s right, he didn’t have a family anymore, he ran away from his family.” Plagg responded, “and so, for years the sad and lonely black cat wandered the earth, hated and misunderstood, until one day he met a group of other black cats all living together, and as he approached them cautiously, expecting to be hit or swatted away, they all watched him.” Adrien yawned and snuggled up closer, “then, they all burst into joyful laughter, welcoming their fellow black cat. Now, the little black cat was shocked, no one had treated him this welcomingly in his entire life. “But… I’m different, people don’t like me.” The cat told them, and they all said together, “No one likes us but we like you!” And so, he started to live his days with his new friends, and the insults and the hatred towards him was shouldered by everyone who was with him now.”

“He lived his days laughing and doing what he enjoyed with his friends, he was happy, but he felt like something was missing, and so one day he went out. He was walking along, hiding in the shadows to avoid those who hated him, when he came across a little ladybug.” Adrien squeaked softly, Plagg smiled more knowing this was his favourite part. “This small, little ladybug was sat on a rose, watching the cat. The cat slowly approached it and sniffed at it,” Plagg made the sniffing noises, Adrien laughing sleepily, “and the ladybug jumped into the air in fright. The black cat sighed, his tail falling as he realised even ladybugs didn’t like him. But then, the ladybug landed softly on the tip of his nose. He was in shock, watching as the ladybug stared back at him with big black eyes. The two creatures stared at each other, one was viewed as good luck while the other bad. They just stared before the cat laughed into the night, asking the ladybug why it hadn’t flown away. The ladybug simply pressed a kiss on the feline’s nose before flying away.” Plagg glanced down and saw Adrien’s heavy eyes drooping slowly. “And the black cat found what he was missing. He realised he wasn’t bad luck, and he didn’t care if others didn’t accept him. Because he had been granted something special from the ladybug.” He smiled and pulled the blanket over them, settling in as he heard his brother snoring softly. He reached his hand out towards the roof, his smile falling and his brows furrowing. “A lucky charm.” He whispered, clenching his fist shut.

---

The next morning Plagg stayed in his room after their mother came for Adrien, he would have to lay low for a while to make sure that no one saw the extent of his injuries for a little while. He knew the consequences if people started asking questions, not that they would when his father was the commander of the military police.

Plagg huffed and rolled onto his side, curled up in a ball and squeezing his eyes shut. He wanted to escape, needed to, wanted to disappear. He felt like a rat in a cage in this house, he had to run away, escape somehow.

That’s when he heard the whoosh outside his window. He gasped and sat up, scrambling to his feet and running to the window, looking out and spotted the people responsible. His eyes widened and he stared at them with awe. He saw the green cloaks billowing behind them, but what stood out was the wings of freedom standing proud on the cloak. The scouts. Plagg watched in wonder as they flew through the air, releasing their chords and getting higher and higher. He jumped onto his windowsill and with memorised movements he climbed up onto the roof, clambering up until he was at the highest he could get, clinging onto the one beam as he watched them in the distance grapple to the wall, running up the fifty metre wall like it was nothing. He watched with amazement and wonder if that’s where he should be, on the wall, he should be in the air, flying. He needed his wings of freedom.

“Hey.” He spun around and spotted a tall man landing behind him, a scout with light brown hair and kind hazel-green eyes, a scar over his right eye and tanned skin. “You okay, kid?” He asked, genuine concern on his face. He seemed kind, Plagg could tell, his voice calming and almost fatherly. He knelt down and was examining Plagg’s face, frowning at the bruises and cuts on his swollen face he realised a second too late. He had messed up, someone had seen his injuries, and not just anyone, a scout.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to see the scouts and my window doesn’t have the best view.” Plagg responded, standing up a little taller, internally screaming over the fact he was meeting a real soldier and not some asshole from the military police.

“Wait, you climbed all the way up here?” The man asked in surprise.

“Yup, I can climb anything! It’s all about body movement.” He said proudly, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

The man chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, I bet you can, but I bet you can’t climb that.” He said before pointing at the wall.

Plagg looked at the wall and sighed, “Yeah, but one day I will!” He exclaimed, clenching his hands into fists. “One day, I’m joining the scouts and I will be free! I will make it to the top of the wall and get far away from this shithole.” He looked back at the man with a determined grin.

“Oh, a future scout, huh?” He asked, resting on his knees. “You realise how dangerous it is being a scout?” He asked with a tilt of his head.

“No more dangerous than here.” Plagg replied with a huff, sitting down and crossing his legs, gripping his ankles and frowning as he felt his cheek throb.

“Is that so? Did your dad do that to your face?” The man asked, Plagg’s eyes widening and fear turning his blood cold.

“N-no!” He exclaimed, looking up at the man with wide eyes, “I-I’m sorry, I have to go!” He said as he scrambled to his feet and started towards the ledge to get back to his room.

The man blinked and jumped up, “hey! Wait!” He called out, reaching out and grabbing Plagg’s arm. “You’re Edward Agreste, aren’t you?”

Plagg looked back at him, his black bangs falling over his eyes, “That’s not my name! My name is Plagg.” He said stubbornly.

“Okay, Plagg, did your father do that to you?” He asked softly, Plagg looking away.

“I’m fine. I brought it on myself.” He replied, feeling the man tightening his grip on his arm slightly. “I’ll be fine, I’m not a little kid.” He said through gritted teeth.

“I can see that, but you still shouldn’t have to deal with this. You certainly aren’t little, but you are a kid, and no kid deserves… that.” The man replied softly. “My name is captain Henry Wayzz, but everyone calls me Wayzz.” He said with a gentle smile, Plagg eyed the man, not sure how to react. Not many people treated him this kindly. The military police treated him like vermin and the people avoided him, not letting their children play with him in fear they will become like him. “Plagg is an interesting name.” He said, releasing Plagg’s arm as the boy turned towards him.

“I don’t like Edward, my baby brother called me Plagg when he first started talking and I prefer it. Edward is too…” He tried to think of the word as he sat down, Wayzz doing the sat and resting back against the chimney wall.

“Too Agreste?” Wayzz asked with a raised brow. Plagg nodded, rubbing his arm and looking away. “I bet your dad doesn’t like the name, bet that’s another way to rebel.” Plagg smiled mischievously, Wayzz chuckling low. “Very clever. I have met your father before, he doesn’t like me.” Wayzz said nonchalantly, fixing his cape and smirking at Plagg who just blinked, his fascination with this man growing with every word. “He didn’t like that I questioned him, do you question him too?”

Plagg gulped before nodding, “he says I’m bad luck and a poison on the family, he calls me a black cat or a mangy stray cat.” Plagg answered, hugging his arms close, “my mother says to ignore him, but he hates me.” He said, Wayzz’s lip curled in disgust, “he always has.”

“Do you know why?” Wayzz asked gently, Plagg shaking his head. “Well, I think you will like being in the scouts then.” He said with a smile, “you seem to be a resilient little man, I hope to still be here when you join.”

Plagg looked at the man and felt a pang in his chest at the idea of the man dying all of a sudden, “you can’t die!” Plagg exclaimed as he clambered to his knees, “because when I join you can be my captain!” Wayzz chuckled at that, standing up to his feet and smiling down at the boy, offering his hand to the boy.

“Well, I would be very honoured to be your captain, young Plagg.” He said with a proud smile, Plagg looking up at him in awe, he felt hope in his heart as he looked up at this man smiling down at him, his cloak blowing in the wind. He saw a future when looking at this man that wasn’t stuck in the fortress and being free from his father.

He took the hand and stood to his feet, grinning as he stood tall like the man and grinned, “Come on, I will help you down.” He said before scooping Plagg up, reaching into his jacket and pulling out his handles, Plagg watching as he slipped two fingers into the grip and clicked some buttons, a grapple shooting off and suddenly they were in the air. Plagg gasped and gripped onto the man tightly, his eyes wide and the wind blowing his spikey hair into an even more messy state. He looked around as the world around him flew past him, his stomach lifting and turning, the feeling incredible. He felt free, his grip loosening and his one arm lifting into the air, the wind putting pressure and pulling a laugh from him. It was incredible, he felt almost complete, just how her mother described it. In the air, all his problems seemed small, stuck to the ground as he flew.

But soon he was on the ground, Wayzz placing him down and smiling down at him, holstering his grips and opening Plagg’s front door, looking down and blinking as he met Plagg’s smile fell and a new frightened expression taking over and wide eyes.

“F-father.” He said, looking in and staring at his father who was in his full military uniform, his military police badge standing out, his hair combed back and his small staff he would use on Plagg held behind his back as he walked. He stepped out and glared down at Plagg before looking at Wayzz who eyed him, stepping in front of Plagg slightly.

“Commander Agreste.” Wayzz greeted with a nod, “I have just met your son, he is an incredible young man.” Wayzz said with a smile, “you should be proud, he will be a fine soldier one day, a scout it seems. His climbing skills have really impressed me!”

Gabriel glared at Plagg who hid behind Wayzz even more, gripping his cloak. “I see, but Edward will not be joining the scouts.” Gabriel said, frowning at Wayzz, “Captain, was it?”

“Yes sir, Captain Henry Wayzz.” Wayzz responded.

“Well, Captain, Edward will not be joining the scouts, that would be unfitting for our family, he will follow in the Agreste line and enter the military police. I have already decided on his post.” Plagg blinked, his eyes wide.

“What?” Plagg exclaimed, stepping out and clenching his fists. “No way! I’m not joining the military police!” He growled, glaring up at his father. “They suck! They’re all bullies who pick on others!”

“Silence, Edward!” Gabriel hissed, bringing the cane from behind his back, Plagg wincing and hiding behind Wayzz more who was glaring at the Commander. “No one wants to hear from the likes of you.”

“Sir, are you responsible for the injuries on your son?” Wayzz asked confidently, Plagg panicking slightly and gripping his cloak even tighter.

“Why would you ask such a thing?” Gabriel asked in disgust, “no, I am not, my son is a mischievous boy, he is always getting into trouble and coming home with new cuts and bruises.” Gabriel lied expertly, if Plagg hadn’t told Wayzz he was sure that he would have believed his father, a fear in the back of his mind that Wayzz would believe him. “I would never lay my hand on my son.”

Wayzz nodded before looking down at the terrified child hiding behind him, Plagg was staring at the ground, his nails digging into the palms of his hand through the fabric of the scout’s cloak, his eyes wide and sweat building on his skin. “I see, well, I think I will pop by and check up on young Plagg here, help him decide on his future, as it is just that.” He said staring back at Gabriel with a smile, “his future.”

“Plagg? Oh for… Edward, stop telling people that stupid name.” Gabriel growled, Plagg hiding more and wincing at the harsh tone.

“S-sorry father.” Plagg muttered, Gabriel glaring at him even more. “I’m sorry.”

“Get inside, no one needs to see you when you look like this.” Gabriel growled before reaching over to grab Plagg, Wayzz grabbing him by the wrist before he could, his eyes narrowed and his face stone as Gabriel looked at Wayzz in shock.

“Sir, I would advise you not grab your son in that manner, especially with his injuries, or ever in fact.” Wayzz said, Plagg looked up at him and blinked, he was tall, the same height as his father and for the first time Plagg saw someone who was stronger and more intimidating than his father. Gabriel stared back in shock before pulling his arm from Wayzz’s grip, glaring at Plagg before he straightened his jacket. “I kill titans for a job, sir, have you ever even seen a titan?” Wayzz questioned, “so, you do not scare me, and you cannot bully me like you do your son.”

“Enough of this. How dare you speak to me like this! I will be speaking to your commander.” Gabriel said in disgust, “Edward, get inside.” He said before he entered his carriage, other military police soldiers watching with wide eyes.

Plagg watched in shock, his mouth hanging open as he stood frozen like a statue, gripping the captains cloak tightly still. “Woah…” He breathed out, “No one’s ever stood up to him before.” He managed out dumbfoundedly, staring back up at the man who was grinning down at him. “You really are like a super soldier!”

Wayzz laughed and knelt down, placing a hand on Plagg’s shoulder, looking him in the eye. “I’m no super soldier,” he laughed, “I just said what someone should have said a long time ago.” Plagg smiled at him, he had waited for someone to say that since he was three years old. Wayzz chuckled and gently scuffed under Plagg’s chin with his knuckle, “I think you are the super soldier, kid.” Plagg blinked at him, “you have been through a lot, so keep your chin up, okay?”

Plagg nodded, letting go of his cloak and standing up straight, “yes, sir!” He said proudly, Wayzz chuckling softly. “I will come and visit you again soon, and I look forward to seeing you in the scouts, kid.” He said before he stood up, “now, go on in, and if he ever lays a hand on you again, you send me a letter.”

“But how will I know where to send it?” Plagg asked curiously, stepping into his house and looking up at the man.

“Look on your windowsill when you get back into your room, okay? I will leave a secret address to send it to.” He said before they both turned when they heard a high pitched giggle, blonde hair bobbing on the stairs.

“Plagg!” Adrien screeched excitedly, running over with his hands in the air and jumped, Plagg catching him and hitching him on his hip, smiling at his baby brother. Adrien patted his cheek before looking at Wayzz. “Who are you?” He asked curiously, big eyes looking up at him.

Wayzz chuckled and leant down, shaking Adrien’s small hand, “hello, my name is Wayzz, what’s your name.”

“My name is Adrien and I’m four!” Adrien said with a big grin, his green eyes sparkling, holding out four fingers. “You’re tall! Why do you have a scar on your face?” Adrien asked with no embarrassment, pointing at Wayzz face.

“Adrien, you can’t ask people that.” Plagg lectured, “sorry, this is my baby brother, he’s overly friendly.” Plagg said to Wayzz who just laughed.

“Ah, the one who famously named you! Wayzz said with a grin, “It’s been a while since I have been around children, so thank you. You have reminded me just how important it is to make sure you are safe.” Wayzz said as he straightened up. “I must go, take your brother in and stay safe.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out his grips, “It was an honour to meet you, young Plagg, and you young Adrien.” Plagg smiled up at him, holding his younger brother close. “You look after your brother, at the end of the day it is you two against the world, understand?” Plagg nodded, smiling down at Adrien who was chewing on Plagg’s collar, watching with big eyes. “Oh, and Plagg, I don’t think you’re bad luck, or ‘mangy’.” Plagg blinked up at him, “you have a little brother who loves you and I can tell that you are his idol. I think you’re very lucky, and very unique. Never forget that.” Plagg smiled at that and nodded. Wayzz ruffled his hair, looking into Plagg’s eyes. “You didn’t deserve what has happened to you, and one day, I promise, you will be free.” Plagg clung to the words, desperate to hear them forever, he had been waiting for Wayzz to appear he realised. He gave him confidence.

“Thank you, sir!” Plagg puffed out his chest, “I will see you soon!” He said and grinned widely, “I will make you proud!”

Wayzz smiled before he ruffled Plagg’s unruly, spikey black locks, “you already have, kid.” He said before he winked and released his grapple, flying off.

“Plagg?” Adrien asked, Plagg looking down at his younger sibling, “can we go play?” He asked hopefully.

Plagg smiled and hugged his brother tight, his whole world seeming brighter and he didn’t feel as trapped. “Of course, kid.” Plagg said before he let Adrien down, “better go hide, I’ll count to 20!” He said, watching his brother run off as he laughed, closing the door behind him with a smile.

Age: 14

Plagg lay on his bed as a thunderstorm raged on outside his window, the rain pounding against the glass and the flashes of lightning lighting up the dark, cold room. He was lying on his stomach with his arms under his chin, watching the water drip into his basin across the room, his eyes dark and his cheek throbbing from the bruises that were starting to form on the right side of his face. He had received it from his father the day before, a painful gash over his right eyebrow and a giant bruise over the right side of his ribs and one down his spine. He had got into trouble because he had evaded his father’s solders, climbing up a building and hiding from them after beating three of the military police recruits to a bloody pulp for picking on some of the poorer people in the less sightly districts of Stohess. He didn’t care that he got hit for it, it was worth it. The soldier’s deserved it.

Plagg was now fourteen and had grown strong as well as tall, his jaw slowly growing more defined and his lip starting to show sign of facial hair. He had grown into a handsome young man who was extremely skilled in martial arts and swordsmanship, his tired appearance and most of the time laid back personality making other’s think he wasn’t much of a threat, which he loved. It meant that when he would beat up those who deserved it, it was even more satisfying. Wayzz didn’t agree with his fighting but he understood that it was to help people, but he would tell him off none the less.

He huffed and rolled onto his back, the skin on his bare chest gaining goosebumps from the cold. Plagg’ body was littered with scars, some faded and some more recent, marks from years of abuse from his father and from falling from high places when he was out. He hated seeing himself in the mirror all the same, his body covered with bad memories that brought a foul taste to his mouth. Scars didn’t bother him, hell he was so used to them more than wounds at this point, it was the fact he was just fourteen and had more than anyone he had seen.

He was replaying the plan in his head, over and over, he had already sent the letter to Wayzz, and he should have them just before it was time for him to leave. It was almost time, Plagg had endured enough and had perfected this plan after countless failed attempts over the years. But now this was his final chance, he had put it off for a year now but he couldn’t anymore. He had to escape and get to Shiganshina to meet Wayzz, to join the cadets with his help and get away from the hell that was his life.

He knew he had to get out of Stohess the week before during his fourteenth birthday when his father requested Plagg to join him in his office with Adrien, something that had never happened with Adrien there. He remembered the panic as he entered to find Adrien standing in front of their father’s desk already, hands behind his back and the usual sad expression he wore around their father that was so unlike his usual happy appearance. While Plagg was subjected to emotional and physical abuse from since before he could remember from Gabriel, Adrien was put under so much more pressure and treated coldly by Gabriel but never had a hand laid on him. Plagg made sure of that. After their mother died two years ago the abuse to both of them increased, Gabriel turning most of his attention on making Adrien the “perfect son”, all while making sure Plagg didn’t even have a place at the table to eat most of the time.

Plagg gulped and walked into the far too clean office that he spent many nights being subjected to horrific beats and turmoil, glaring at his father before he stood in front of the desk, slightly in front of Adrien protectively. Adrien was a small boy, he always had been since he was born, Plagg protected him in any way possible and was always giving him the love he wished he had as a child. Adrien gulped and moved towards his brother, easily hiding behind Plagg’s arm as they stood there, his hair combed perfectly and his clothes ironed and well fitted, unlike Plagg’s second hand, tatty clothes that nine times out of ten had a few holes in them.

“You called, father?” Plagg spoke up, his voice deeper now from puberty but still cracked in fear of what would happen to not him, but to Adrien.

“It is your fourteenth birthday.” Gabriel stated bluntly as if Plagg didn’t already know, not looking up from the papers he was scribbling on, “despite my efforts it seems your brother cannot actually take your place as the heir. So,” He looked up, looking at the two confused brothers, “you will be joining the cadets in the inner wall and will place in the top ten,” Plagg blinked, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists, “then you will be joining the military police to follow in my footsteps like all first born Agreste men do. And if you do not follow my instructions I will ship you off to the worst districts where they are known for butchering the military police.” Plagg wasn’t usually shocked by his father anymore, but the fact he would dispose of him to gain what he wanted was… next level.

Adrien whimpered and hid behind Plagg, wrapping his arms around his waist and clinging to him, his face buried in his back. “No! Please, father! Don’t send him away!” Adrien begged.

“Silence, Adrien, this is a similar future for you, you will also be joining the cadets when you reach fourteen and will join the military police too, but I do not doubt that you will live up to my expectations, because you are my son.”

“So am I.” Plagg stated in a blunt voice, glaring at the man he called father.

“You, Edward, are not my son. You are just someone who unfortunately I cannot get rid of, do not mock me by saying you are my son.” Gabriel said before he stood up, “either way, no matter how I feel I have to follow tradition and so,” he sighed, grabbing a black wooden box and approached the boys, Plagg shielding Adrien more. Gabriel handed Plagg the box who looked at it curiously, he glancing up at his father before he opened it and found a silver, thick band signet ring. “I didn’t want to give this to you, you aren’t worthy of it that’ for sure, but your mother made me promise. It is a tradition for the first born Agreste boy to get this on his fourteenth birthday, and so now you have it.”

Plagg blinked at the ring before looking up at his father who was glaring at him, he met Gabriel’s eyes for a few seconds too long and knew it was a mistake, seeing the slap before it made contact. Adrien cried out and clung to Plagg more as he stumbled, cupping his cheek and gripping the box in the other.

“Don’t look at me like that, you mangey street cat.” Gabriel spat, teeth bared in disgust. “Now, both of you leave.” Gabriel said before walking back to his desk, Plagg grabbing Adrien by the underarm and pulled him out, hate growing in his chest. He knew then that he had to escape, his only regret was not being able to take Adrien with him.

Plagg sighed and sat up on his bed, looking down at the ring on his finger as he remembered everything, he hated that Adrien had seen that. Adrien was the one thing that brought doubt to his whole plan, he hated that he was leaving his brother behind but he knew that his father never laid his hands on Adrien and with Plagg gone he could inherit everything and have a better future. He hoped. He had already placed the letter in Adrien’s room, and had spent as much time with him that he could knowing that it could be the last time he saw him. Adrien could survive this world, Plagg couldn’t. And he knew that.

He got up and walked over to his dresser, his black long sleeved shirt folded on top of his too big dark green hoodie Wayzz had given him to wear under his cloak. He felt the fabric and smiled, he had never received clothes this new before, he pulled them both on and looked in the mirror, the candlelight flickering against his skin. He stared at his reflection and smiled, he saw the same kid he had seen for fourteen years but he also saw someone who was about to be free. He ruffled his spikey hair, grinning mischievously. He was excited, he felt lightning through his veins and he just wanted to leave now but he knew he had to wait just a little longer. He walked over to his desk where his bag lay open, all his supplies neatly packed with the paper’s Wayzz sent, hidden in his clothes. He gulped as he looked at everything he would own from tonight from this house, all his memories and everything from this life fitting into one bag, he had a few family sketches of Adrien and of his mother and he had stolen a bunch of cheese from the kitchen for the road and a scarf his mother wore hidden under everything. He would hug it when he was having one of his low stages, it smelt of her and he could close his eyes and picture her arms around him, stroking his hair and fighting his nightmares away. He would never leave that. He zipped up the bag and felt the hairs on his neck stand up and his jaw clenched, his body freezing and panic sunk deep into his soul.

He slowly turned and met his father’s piercing blue eyes from the doorway, he hadn’t even heard his father come in. He was in his uniform and his grey hair was slick back like usual, that damned cane in his hand. “F-father…” Plagg said before gulping, his father never came up to his room, he was always called to wherever his father was, usually the office. He couldn’t even remember the last time his father had been in his room. Plagg gulped again and looked around, thanking every god there was that he had spent the afternoon cleaning it for his departure, the last thing he needed was a beating for a messy room.

Gabriel took a deep breath before he looked around at the room, Plagg’s room was quite large, a double bed in the corner with a rug on the floor, a desk by his window with a candle lit on it and a large dresser in the corner by his sink and mirror. It wasn’t anything fancy but he knew that a lot of kids grow up sharing beds with their parents so he was grateful. It was usually a mess with clothes around and Adrien said it stunk of cheese which Plagg would argue was the best smell possible.

Gabriel walked over to the bed and looked at the dark turquoise colour, eyes falling on the black cat doll that his mother had made Plagg who in turn gave it to Adrien when he was younger. Adrien had grown out of toys and now it lived in Plagg’s room as a comfort to remember his mother. He glanced at the small stuffed toy nervously, fearful as to what Gabriel would do to it.

“I never understood why Emilie made you that stupid thing.” He said, tapping the cane on the floor before he looked over at Plagg, who was standing tall, his fists clenched and his jaw tight. “Oh unclench, I am here to talk.” He said with a roll of his eyes, sitting on the bed with a sigh and resting his hands on the cane. “I know you hate me, and I couldn’t give a shit that you do. But, unfortunately for both of us, you have to represent this family. And, so you will need to be on your best behaviour when you are in the military, especially the cadets.” Gabriel said, Plagg watching him carefully. “I will be getting daily reports and if I find out you have been slacking off or messing things up like usual I will give them permission to punish you as I would.” Plagg gulped, he didn’t even want to imagine what the military police would do to him if they got hold of him after years of tormenting them. “Do you understand?”

Plagg nodded, he may as well play the part, because as of tonight he would be a missing person and wouldn’t have to deal with his father again. If he played this right he could come out unscathed, but he needed to keep his cool.

Gabriel just sighed and stood up, glancing at the bag, “are you packing accordingly?” He questioned, to which Plagg nodded again, angering his father for not speaking. “Speak, you mangey street cat!” Gabriel yelled, raising his cane, “why can’t you be more like me or your brother! You are such a disappointment!”

Plagg stared at him, in disbelief that this was the man who he called father and who was the one who made him, how could such evil even create life, he had been tormented by this man for all his life, all because he was born. He never did anything to his father, all he did was exist and that was enough of a reason to this man to beat his own son. Plagg hated him, he wanted to destroy him, wanted to make him pay and to watch him crumble into ash. He ground his teeth, his eyes going dark and he caught the cane before it hit him, glaring up at his father through his loose strands of hair, every beating and every telling off giving him power as he faced his abuser.

“I would rather die than be like you!” He growled, Gabriel staring at him in disbelief, eyes darting from the hand on the cane and then back to Plagg who gripped it tight, his gaze cold enough to freeze a sauna. “I will never be as low as you, and you will always be just a sad, abusive old man high on power who only ever loved himself.” Plagg felt power in his words, he felt weight being lifted off his shoulders and as he stood there, feeling taller with every word, he saw the shock on his father’s face. “I feel sorry for you, I feel sorry for Adrien and I to have to have you for a father, and I feel sorry for the military police to have a fucker like you running it! If the titans ever did get in we are all screwed!” He was screaming now, hot, angry tears in his eyes. And with every word he saw the anger grow in his father’s eyes. “I hate you! I fucking hate y-” before he could finish his sentence a hand back hit him across the face and sent him to the floor with a grunt, blood splattering on the stone floor from his nose.

He coughed and cupped his nose, blood covering his hands pretty quickly, his new hoodie now decorated in his blood. He looked up in fear as his father stood over him, a new evil in his eyes and in that moment Plagg knew if he wasn’t leaving tonight that this man would kill him eventually.

It was thirty minutes later, he was curled up on the floor, his eye swollen shut, his body was on fire from the pain and he lay in a puddle of his own blood. His lip was swollen and his nose was still bleeding slightly, a gash over his right cheek under his blackening swollen eye and small minor cuts decorating his freckled skin. He sobbed softly, hugging his arms close to his body, hearing the door close across the room, Gabriel finally satisfied with the punishment.

Plagg whimpered and slowly pushed up to sitting, blood dripping from his hair onto the floor, a long strand of bloody drool falling from his lower lip. He sniffed and gently wiped his nose and mouth on the back of his hand. He grunted as he slowly crawled to his sink, gripping the edge and pulling himself to standing. He looked in the mirror, his vision through his one good eye blurry and he felt like he could pass out at any second. He had to get a hold of himself. He looked down at himself and saw he was covered in his own blood, his heart sinking as he stared at his clothes. He cursed and slowly peeled his hoodie off, biting his lip to stop from crying out in pain. He held the hoodie in his hands and watched as his tears fell and hit the material. It was probably ruined, but he was sure Wayzz would have a solution.

He sniffed and wiped his eyes again, looking at himself again and saw his baggy long sleeved back shirt had survived mainly unscathed. He met his eyes and glared, determination filling his heart and he was ready. It was time. He pushed off the sink and headed to his bag, his adrenaline kicking in as he stuffs the blood covered clothing into the bag and grabbed his dark brown cloak from his chair. He pulled his windows open and stared out at the pouring rain, he would need to climb down without injuring himself more. It would be a challenge but he had practiced for just this. He looked back, spotting the black cat on the floor where his father had thrown it during the altercation, his heart hurting. He walked over and slowly picked it up, gripping it tightly as he looked at it.

He looked up and felt doubt for a second, before he took a deep breath, the pain in his ribs pushing him on. He had to leave, Adrien would be better off as the future head, he would be okay. He stuffed the stuffed cat into his bag and climbed onto the windowsill, lightning lighting up the room, the thunder echoing through the house. He gripped the wood, the wind blowing his cloak as he pulled his hood up, and with one more look back he started his descent.

He got almost to the bottom when he lost his footing, something he knew was inevitable with how weak he was. He landed in a puddle with a thud, the air escaping from his lungs as he gasped, his eye blown wide. He lay there for a few seconds as the rain pounded on him before he climbed to his feet, gripping his side and started running, gripping his bag strap for dear life. He ran, the life he knew behind him, all his chains were broken and he was finally free. He would never see his father again and won’t ever have to see that cane ever again. He was… He was…

“Free…” He breathed, a smile spreading on his face as he looked up, squinting into the rain, he wasn’t fully free just yet, but… It was so close he could almost reach out and grab it. He could almost taste the sweet freedom, and he knew it would be a taste he will be addicted to.

He ran for what seemed like forever before he spotted the carriage exactly where Wayzz had said it would be. The single lantern letting him know it was for him. He approached the man hiding from the rain and dug in his bag, handing him the wet papers, panting and looking at the man desperately. The man looked them over before he looked at the young boy, eyeing his wounds and bruises before nodding. Plagg let out a sigh of release and limped to the back, climbing in and collapsing through the material covering the back. He lay on the floor, shivering and aching from pain, he closed his eyes and curled up, the carriage starting to move. He chuckled, and felt the adrenaline leave him, darkness taking over.

He awoke quite a while later, his clothes were still a little damp and clung to his skin. He was shivering and he was in a lot of pain. He grunted and pushed up, the sun shining through a few cracks in the material. It was daytime already? He blinked and climbed onto the bench, peaking out and gasped, they were approaching a gate in one of the walls. He spotted the face and without a doubt he knew where he was, he had slept a whole day, maybe two? Who knew, but he stared at the gate of Shiganshina. He had made it! He smiled small before his heart ached, staring down at his hands in sadness.

Images of his baby brother filled his mind, his big green eyes, his mop of blonde hair, and his angelic smile. He was Plagg’s best friend, and he wasn’t sure if he just gave him the life he could thrive in or sentenced him to suffering. He gripped the edge of the bench, his jaw tightening as his eye held all his sadness.

“I’m sorry Adrien.” He breathed, the pain almost crippling. But he had to stay strong, he would become a scout, get power and one day he would save Adrien if need be.

“Hey! You alive in there?” He heard the man yell, snapping him back to reality.

“Yeah!” Plagg called out.

“Get ready to jump, kid! There are some Garrison ahead checking carts, and I aint getting fined for some kid.” Plagg blinked.

“Wait, did you say jump?!” Plagg asked in disbelief. “You want me to jump from the moving carriage!?” He exclaimed in panic, standing up and peaking outside, and saw the ground was just dry dirt, even without his injuries this would be a hard and painful fall. He gulped and felt his stomach drop. He was in so much pain and was still exhausted, he looked back to where the voice came from.

“Yup! Unless you wanna deal with the Garrison soldiers!” The man said, laughing like an insane person. Plagg wouldn’t be surprised if he was. He gulped again and tried to calm down.

“Fuck…” He cursed.

“Now! Hurry!” The man yelled back, Plagg chewed his lip before he took a deep breath.

Plagg got ready to jump from the back of the carriage, pulling the material aside and took another deep breath. He called thanks to the driver before he gripped his bag and dove out, rolling as he hit the ground before skidding in the dusty dirt on his side, curled up. He squeezed his eyes shut, teeth clenched until he came to a stop. That hurt more than he wanted to admit, a whimper leaving his throat as he lay there.

He coughed the dust out of his lungs before slowly opening his good eye and looking around. He saw the gate to Shiganshina in front of him in the distance, and the houses he spotted were small and quaint, the town much poorer than Stohess, and he smiled at seeing all the people smiling and getting on with their day.

He chuckled before he spotted a red dress blowing in his peripheral vision. He blinked before he looked at where it was coming from, looking up at a girl maybe a few years younger than him looking down at him with wide eyes and raised brows, clenching her brown shoulder bag to her chest. She had her black hair in two high pigtails, her shining hair blowing in the wind around her, her cluster of freckles visible from where he was on the ground. Her eyes were a dark blue, watching him out of what he thought was curiosity and a bit of shock. He must had landed in front of her and scared the shit out of her. He blinked and felt his heart skip a beat, something about her made the world freeze and all he could do was stare at her. They stared at each other for what seemed like forever before she spoke up.

“U-uh…” She spoke, her voice soft and sweet like a song, her long eyes lashes fluttering as she blinked and shook her head, “are you okay?” She asked finally with a raised brow, Plagg realised he must look like a right creep, his face was beaten and bruised and he was dressed very ominously, not to mention he was on the ground covered in dirt.

“Y-yeah, sorry if I scared you, the driver said he wouldn’t stop so I had to jump.” Plagg explained before he scrambled to his feet, strapping his bag to across his chest, ignoring the aches and pains.

“You didn’t scare me.” She said bluntly, examining him, looking at his face to which he just blinked and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, then she looked him up and down. “You’re not from here, are you?”

“Uh, yeah, how did you know?” Plagg asked curiously, his breath catching his throat when she grinned and held up a finger knowingly, throwing her pigtails back. He blinked at her confidence and tell all attitude, watching the small girl grin with a raised brow.

“Simple! For one you are dressed way too nicely, and while your face isn’t something I don’t see everyday on kids who have been beaten up, I haven’t seen it around here before.” She said as she looked up at him, he just realised how small she was compared to him as she craned her neck slightly, how old was she? “So where are you from?”

Plagg contemplated on whether he should say or not, but something about her seemed trustworthy. “I actually just ran away from Stohess.” He admitted, “I’m here to join the cadets.”

“Stohess? The cadets?” She asked in shock, “why the hell would you come here when you could stay in the inner walls?” She asked, shifting her bag and placing a fist on her hip, a look of disbelief on her face.

“Uh… reasons.” He said with a nervous laughter, “don’t worry about that.”

“And why join the cadets?” She questioned, she was really chatty for someone who just met him, he wondered if her parents had told her about stranger danger.

“Uh, well, I have always wanted to be a scout.” He explained, shifting his bag and wincing slightly, “A captain there just helped me get away, and uh,” he tried to think of a good reason that wouldn’t make him seem like even more of a weirdo than he already seemed, “well, to be honest… I want to be free.” He admitted.

She raised her brow and frowned, “so you’re willing to be killed by titans to be… free?” She asked in disbelief.

“Well… let’s just say that where I came from was a hell of a lot worse than beyond the walls.” He said with a nervous chuckle.

“Hmm…” She hummed, eyeing him before she dug in her bag, Plagg raising his brows in confusion, watching her dig around, her tongue sticking out. “Ah ha!” She exclaimed, pulling out a small fabric bag and handing it over to Plagg.

“Uh…” He said as he stared at the bag with a raised brow, “thanks? What is it?”

“Sugar cubes.” She stated as if it was common knowledge. Plagg blinked and opened the bag, and low and behold there were sugar cubes in it. “It’s all I can spare, you look like you could use some sweetness in your life.” She said with a giggle, clasping her hands behind her back and smiling sweetly at Plagg. He blushed and blinked, no one had been this nice to him before, not a stranger anyway.

“Th-thanks…” He whispered, staring at the bag before looking back at the girl. “I’m Plagg, by the way.” He said, holding his hand out and grinning his Cheshire smile.

The girl smiled sweetly and shook his hand, gripping it firmly, “I’m Tikki.” She said, “I hope I’ll meet you again, Plagg. Maybe not, you know, exactly like this.” She said as she let go of his hand, motioning to the dirt covered boy who looked down at himself and laughed. “Good luck.” She said with a smile.

“I hope so too, Tikki.” He said with a smile, “I’ll, uh, see you around.” He said politely.

“I guess.” She said matter of factly, shifting her bag and flicking her hair back, Plagg blinked again, examining her. She was beautiful, and he could tell she would have ever guy after her when she was older, but he could already tell she would be able to handle them, her confidence sky rocketing. “See ya, Plagg.” She said before walking off.

He watched her walk off towards the gate, a tiny black haired girl with her long black hair flowing in the wind ran up to her and jumped into her arms, Tikki smiling at her before hitching her onto her hip, walking off and their laughter filling the world.

Plagg chuckled and smiled, he hoped he would see her again, but more importantly he hoped he would meet more people like her. He hoped his new life would be filled with people who would accept him. He hoped-

Before he could finish his thought he spotted a flutter of red and blinked, his body freezing and his eye stared in shock. A ladybug had landed on his nose, its small legs tickling his freckled skin. His breath caught in his chest and he gently moved the ladybug to his finger, staring at it. He looked at the ladybug and then back at the girl walking away and smiled.

"Well, maybe this black cat has a lucky charm afterall." He whispered, grinning and watching the ladybug fly away.

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mashedpotittiess · 4 years ago

Text

Games of Tomorrow

Header created by my muse and bb R. Title: Games of Tomorrow. Pairing: Taehyung x Reader. Mentions of: Hoseok, Jin, Subin (Victon) and OC’s Summary: A simple game of beer pong stirred up some not so innocent feelings between you and the man you held much disdain for. After all, he was your enemy. The person you couldn’t seem beat when it came to grades. You were never enough for the rich and popular but maybe just maybe you’d show them what you were all about. Words: 13k Rating: M Genre: Enemies to Lovers!au, College au!, Smut, Fluff, Angst.

This was all inspired by this photo which I just edited (color, background and the text)so all original photo credits go to the owner.

A/N: What started as a simple short drabble ended in this much longer than intended fic. This is my first pic so pls be gentle. I am but a noob to tumblr writing. I hope you enjoy this craziness <3 this fic is dedicated to my friend who picked Tae to be the first character I wrote about and sat there and listened to me freaking out cause the fic kept getting longer. Ily R. This is Un-Edited so i apologize in advance for the mistakes. I’ll re-read it and fix mistakes as i come across them. Tags/Warnings: Smutty smut smut, Jealousy, Drinking, Mention of Marijuana, Oral (female receiving) Fingering (female receiving), Unprotected sex (wrap it up kids) Fluff, Angst, Size kink, Tae mentioning his DIG BICK, semi rough sex (not really though).

Fic inspired Playlist Link:

spotify:playlist:77Hd51hVnDHe8Q9JaLxGbD

Taglist: @a-mess-of-fandoms @dnyad

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“Absolutely not” you said calmly into the cellphone receiver. “But y/n! You need to let loose once in awhile, and no I’m not talking about sitting on your couch eating bowls of Ramen and cheese popcorn while watching re-runs of Boy Meets World with a big glass of too much Whiskey” Layla practically whined. She had been trying to convince you to go with her to Seokjin’s party on Saturday for an entire hour. She was right, you knew this coming weekend you’d be plopped onto that same blue couch in your big band t-shirt and fuzzy socks doing exactly that. “I’ll think about it” you finally mumbled out and could practically hear the smile in your best friends voice as she exclaimed a ‘woot woot’ “Okay Hot Stuff, i’ll text you later, gotta get to Volleyball Practice” with that she hung up and you continued your walk to what you’d call a ‘Headache’ of a class. It’s not that you hated Econ per say, it’s that you studied your ass off, completed extra credit assignments with a flourish and took wonderfully color coded notes (if you say so yourself). But yet, HE still scored higher than you (even if it was just by one point) and what’s worse is that he NEVER seemed to study, never seemed to care. Trudging into class you took your usual seat in the second row close to the middle. Organizing your laptop, books and assortment of pencils and pens on the table. As Professor Carmine began his lesson writing “Principles of Economics” onto the whiteboard with his usual navy blue marker, you diligently took notes and nodded along with his rhetorical questions. “Before we end for today lets see who can answer this simple yet intriguing question, “Would you consider Inflation or Deflation of cost cycles to be more costly to a business?” You pondered on how to word your answer for about two seconds before raising your hand. “Yes Ms. Y/L/N” you shifted in your seat slightly. “While I know this question has no definite answer as it can be interpreted many ways, I would say with our current Economy, Inflation of prices would be more costly,” Before you could continue you heard a Deep Baritone voice that you knew too well scoff. “So you think Deflation would benefit a business? that’s essentially lowering your prices which in turn leads to loss of income” You rolled your eyes nonchalantly and turned around in your seat to look at the man in the fourth row who had not only interrupted you but disagreed and voiced his disagreement. “I said with our current economy Inflation could hurt a business. Do you think regular people can afford to buy a $3,000 purse when they make minimum wage? It could cost a company to make said purse for $200 with cost of material and labor. If you lower those prices by a fraction, said company would still be making money and you could possibly have more demand as more people with regular paying jobs can afford you buy said purse. If you higher the price less regular people can afford such a luxury item which could hurt the demand. Thus causing an issue with the income for a business”. You said staring at the red haired man pulling a cock of his right eyebrow from him. “Regular people don’t need a $3,000 bag, you want brands to lower the prices so poor people can buy their items? How sad. Tae is right, just higher the prices and get more money. Businesses will make their money regardless of the lower or middle class purchasing their items, as long as they have people like us,” a high pitched voice you recognized as Nami said gesturing to herself and the perfect barbies next to her “buying from them”. Before you continue the alarm from your Professors phone startled you and signaled the end of not only your Monday class but your discussion as well. You picked up your items, shoving them in your bag and trudged out of class. As you passed Taehyung with Nami, Michelle, Hoseok and Gigi at his back he smirked at you and you swore you heard Nami giggling ‘Bet she’s never even held a Chanel bag in her hands. she just wants everybody to be ratchet like people like her’. Smiling to yourself you turned around and flipped them the bird “At least I don’t have to go crying to daddy to buy me a new set of tits, I make my own money and work hard for it. Something you wouldn’t know a thing about, and THAT is what I find sad about your entailed fake ass”. your voice carrying through the hall as you turned back around and made your way back to your dorm. ——————————————— “You know what day it is? TACO Tuesday” You exclaimed while taking a shot of Jose Cuervo and stirring your meat to ensure its cooked properly. Your roommate Casey giggled and Layla downed a shot with you while blasting a Pitbull song. After plating your dinner of carne picada tacos topped with all your usual veggies and homemade Salsa you smiled while your friends posted pics to their instas, Captioning “BB y/n made us food”. “I still can’t believe you told Nami her tits were fake” Casey giggled while shoving a fistful of popcorn into her mouth. “y/n said her tits and her ass were fake” Layla corrected and you smiled at your dorky friends. “She deserved it, nothing I said wasn’t true. You all were sprawled out on the couch pilled high with fluffy blankets watching a random episode of The Nanny and laughing at random jokes Layla said while scrolling through her Insta feed. “OOOOOOh Valeria is getting ice cream with Subin” Casey practically pouted at the post and you sighed knowing your roommates crush on Valeria which did not go unseen by Layla, causing a metaphorical lightbulb to go off in her head. “You know Casey, Valeria is going to be at Jin’s party on Saturday” Casey being held buzzed sat up catching the bait and worried her bottom lip “Is she?” Layla nodded “This could be your chance to get a fistful of all that Latina, metaphorically and not so metaphorically” she crudely added with a wiggle of her eyebrows and you literally face palmed at your best friends words. Instead of being equally gassed out, Casey however downed her coke and stood up triumphantly “It’s time I tell her!” Layla stood up with her screaming a loud ‘yaaaaas queen’ and both pairs of eyes looked towards you sitting their nursing your Sprite. “What?” you questioned and immediately regretted when both girls practically jumped on you, squishing you between their bodies. “I can’t confess without knowing you and Layla are both there” Casey pouted her soft pink colored lips causing you to shake your head. “You do not need me there while you confess to your crush.” “But what if it goes bad? what if she rejects me, or worse; makes fun of me? What if i need to leave and I’m crying and I have snot everywhere an-“ Before she could continue you sighed and covered her mouth with your right hand. Nodding you stood up and smiled at both girls “Fuck it, Let’s get your Girl!” you knew Casey had liked her for literally an entire year and you knew you’d feel like shit if you weren’t there supporting your friend as she bared her heart. “I’m only doing this for you though, so know that I love you.” ——————————————— While the rest of the week you were dreading the party Saturday knowing Nami, Taehyung and the other were going to be there, it was Thursday night that was the straw that broke the Camels back. You had just finished returning your copy of Ulysses when you passed Nami practically hanging on the redhead talking about her Angel costume for Seokjins party. Rolling your eyes as you passed you stopped as you heard her ask “What are you rolling your eyes about? This is a private conversation” she flipped her hair over her left shoulder and you yet again rolled your eyes. “This is a public hallway, which means anything you say that can be heard by others can in fact get a response be it verbal or physical by someone other than the intended person in the conversation.” You were just about to turn around when she hmmphed “Whatever, mind your own business” turning around you were met with Layla jogging towards you. “Hot Stuff, what are we going to wear to the party? I’m thinking Doja Cat from the ‘Juicy’ MV, omg you should be -“ Before your best friend could continue, Nami stepped towards you with her arms crossed. “And how did someone like you, get an invitation?” punctuating the ‘you’ she pointed at you. “Jin and I are both on the Volleyball team” Layla stated and turned towards you “And he said I can bring whoever I wanted.” “I still don’t know why you hang around people like her” she once again pointed to you with her baby pink manicured index finger. You knew Layla had money and could very well fit in with their group. You sometimes felt like you were her downfall, the anchor to her social climb. But she always reassured you that she hated people like Nami and never understood why out of everyone, she hated you in particular for the passed two years. “Maybe because she’s my BEST friend, whoever gets invited to the party doesn’t involve you Nami. It’s JINS party, not yours.” Layla shook her head and you bit your bottom lip while curling your fists at your sides trying to calm yourself down.”Maybe she should be Donkey from Shrek, or maybe an edgy emo kid from 2010 with her ugly tattoos” Nami smirked and you heard Taehyung ‘who was scrolling on his phone let out a light laugh, his deep baritone further fueling Nami’s ego. “Have you ever even been to a party? like have you ever even left you dorm for something other than classes and your jobs” she sneered at the words jobs. “You should just reconsider coming, people like YOU don’t belong. People like YOU really should know your place” Your jaw visibly ticked “Seems like you have an obsession with anything my best friend does, is this like you having a big lesbian crush on her?” Layla said while placing a hand on your shoulder and doing her best Janice from Mean Girls impression. Before Nami could say anything back Taehyung nodded out a “Guess we will see you there then, bye Layla, bye y/n” turning to leave. Nami rolled her eyes and checked her phone “Not like it’ll matter what you wear, wait, OMG you should soo wear a ghost costume, it would suit you. Get it? cause you’ll be invisible and you don’t belong” then turned around, her yellow heels clacking against the tile as she following Taehyung down the hall cackling. “I still don’t know why she’s always hated you of all people? like it’s been two years of the same thing with her. I honestly don’t know how you haven’t hit her. I’ve seen you fight” She smiled and grabbed your hand, holding it while you all made your way down the hall, which made you smile and let out a small giggle at her comment about you fighting. She knew about your childhood and how you practically lived at you neighbors boxing gym to let off steam as a stress reliever. You had agreed to find a suitable costume as rage filled you from Navi’s moments and Taehyung’s lack of interest in the matter. (not that you would’ve expected much from him)

As you scanned the rows of costumes hung on the wall neatly you waited by the changing room while Layla and Casey tried on their costumes. “I think i’ll just go with this one” Casey smiled softly while twirling in her peter pan costume, her blond bob swishing lightly. “It’s so cute!” you hugged her and turned to see Layla emerging with a shake of her head “This isn’t giving me enough Doja Vibes”. You let out a hmm and pulled the pink/red mid length wig from your left and threw her a pair of red tights telling her to go put those on while you scoured the items on the racks. Layla finally emerged from the dressing room after you finished giving her the scattered pieces you had found. Clutching the green watermelon rind skirt, she twirled around in the same manor Casey did earlier and shook her pinky/red bandeau covered chest at you. After tightening the green suspenders that were connected to the skirt she smirked “Now it’s your turn Babe, and Casey and i are paying” before you could interrupt her she continues “not buts! You agreed to find a costume” Shaking your head you said a chorus of “No’s” vehemently at every option she held in front of you. “Y/n you need something to accentuate how hot you are! make her eat her words” you huffed and shook your head “Naughty Nerd is not the way to go Nami” Hanging the customer back on the rack she mumbled a “she said nerd so i figured hot nerd would be well, hot”. You grabbed a simple Witch costume that consisted of a mid length purple dress and a black hat with matching stockings, something low key but still a costume. Before you could go pay for it Layla grabbed your hand and stopped you. “No, y/n that isn’t enough, plays were paying” she pointed to herself and Casey who nodded. “Layla I don’t want to draw anymore attention to myself, I don’t need to look “hot” cause I’m not. I’m just a regular person who isn’t enough for these people. I’ll never be or do enough” You look down at your right arm and traced the intricate patterns of your black and white peonies and hibiscus that lined your inner arm. Your friends had never seemed you look so vulnerable, and something in Layla snapped. “She called you invisible and said you weren’t enough but guess what? She knows all about you makes sure you’re always uncomfortable around them. Which means she sees you as a threat”. you bit your bottom lip at her words “She has called you ugly, ratchet ‘which who says that anymore, poor, insignificant and she made fun of you working your ass off to pay your tuition because your deadbeat parents can’t do shit for you. You’re the smartest person in class, you’ve got street smarts and fuck man, you can literally kick a grown mans ass. Remember when those guys were grabbing Casey at the club and you stood up for her and literally fought two of them and won? Little miss prissy bitch couldn’t stand a 5 secs with that y/n. I know you don’t bother with fighting her cause you’re afraid of her connections and getting kicked out of school but fuck y/n grow some balls” Snapping your head in her direction you walking up to her standing in her face and exclaimed “Firstly Taehyung is the smartest in my Econ class. Secondly, don’t you think I’m already aware of what she says about me? don’t you think i want to punch that stupid smile off her face full of fillers? You wan’t me to grow some balls? FUCKING FINE, but I’m not wearing a “sexy nerd costume.” Smirking and trailing your fingers along a row of costumes you looked at your friends. “I’ll show her just how hot I can be” Layla smirked at you “That’s my girl, so what do you have in mind then” You slid your fingers along what felt like vinyl. Cocking your right eyebrow up you gripped the material. “What’s hotter than the Devil?” ——————————————— Standing in front of your mirror in your bedroom you were already regretting your choice in outfits for tonight. As you stared at yourself you reminded yourself why you were doing this. You were going to prove a point and that was all that mattered. you were going to prove you weren’t any of the negative things Nami said about you. Running your hands down the scrappy vinyl like material that was covering your chest and part of your upper body. Your hands stopped above your navel where the top stopped and you cocked your hip to the side, descending your hands further down your bare skin to the top of the matching vinyl like skin tight pants that resembled shiny black liquid covering your skin leaving little to the imagination. You plopped yourself in front of your desk to the makeshift vanity that was full of makeup products for the nights preparations. Curling the ends of your hair you laughed as Layla pranced around shimmying to Nasty by Brooke Candy. “Don’t trust that hoe he N A S T Y” you all yelled the lyrics. Finishing your Deep Burgundy and black smokey eye, you applied a sharp winged eyeliner and smoked out the lower lash line. Applying small round black jewels under your eyes you finished the look with a deep burgundy matte lipstick, fluffy lashes and a soft pink toned blinding highlighter. “We have like 5 minutes, get your asses in gear” Layla announced as you were tying your simple black leather choker around your neck. After zipping up your over the knee 5 inch stiletto vinyl black boots, you placed your black horned headband on your head securing the little clips in your hair and primped the strands around your face to frame sexily. The ride there was filled with bopping to music and Layla yelling that you were a bad bitch out of the windows for all of the campus to hear which caused you to yell as the Uber driver. Taking a deep breath, you exited the car and holding Layla and Caseys hands, you walked the short distance of the walkway to Seokjin’s Lavish off campus Townhome. The smell of weed and alcohol mixed with the sound of loud bass thumping greeted you as Layla pushed open the door. Walking through a sea of bodies you felt several pairs of eyes on you and you had to remind yourself it was fine. Settling yourselves in the kitchen, you started to make you all some drinks while Casey looked out for Valeria and Layla handed you cups and bottles. You decided simple Margaritas on the rocks were safe for the night and handed them to your friends. A tall and beautiful man you knew as Seokjin himself walked in and greeted you all, making sure to give Layla a hug to which you noticed her little blush creeping down her neck. “I’m glad you all could make it! Layla are you Doja Cat? omg Casey you’re Peter Pan! y/n are you the devil? oooooh are those Margs I see?” SeokJin asked which you nodded and asked if he wanted one as well. “Yes please! I suck at making drinks, oh and please just call me Jin” Smiling you stirred the mixture into a clear cup and handed it to him earning a dazzling smile. As he took a sip, Jin pressed his right hand to his chest over his heart “You NEED to come to all of my parties and make me drinks. This is so delicious” As he mimicked the chefs kiss signal you laughed and Layla beamed a smile at him. “Y/n works as a bartender part time at Nely’s next to campus” You nodded and sipped you drink while surveying the beautiful white marble kitchen and chrome accents. “You have a beautiful Home Jin” you smiled to him which made him softly pat you on the back “Thank you! I take pride in my kitchen. It’s where I blow off steam from Volleyball practice” Layla shook her head “You need to blow off steam? you practically don’t even sweat while we run plays” to which Jin scoffed “We all need to blow off steam Layla” You and Casey watched as both people seemed really comfortable with being around each other. You noticed Layla blush and Jin smile every time their eyes met. “Oh you’re here” said a shrill voice you knew none other than Nami herself, dressed in a fluffy white see thru robe, white satin dress that barely covered her butt, knee high white vinyl go-go boots, white lace stockings and sitting atop her head a thin gold halo attached to a headband. Next to you Layla smiled and placed her hand on her hip “Yeah, we said we would be here so here we are” you heard the brattiness in her voice and giggled when you notice Jin staring at her hips. “Ew, don’t stay too long” Nami said while walking out. Jin shook his head which prompted Layla to ask why he had invited Nami. “Well our families are friends and my roommates are friends with her” You cocked an eyebrow” You have roommates?” Before Jin could answer you heard a deep baritone laugh getting closer, turning your head to the side you saw Taehyung accompanied by Hoseok walking into the safe haven of the kitchen. “Tae, Hoseok, come meet Layla and her friends Casey and y/n!” Jin smiled “These are my roommates” As the men stepped closer you tried your best to cover the shocked look on your face. “HEY we have two devils!” Hoseok yelled out and smirked. Taehyungs hair was parted down the middle and some of his fringe was swept up into two red ‘horns’ he donned black skin tight vinyl pants, red shiny shoes that looked a lot like Gucci Mules, a sequined Blazer with only one button down right above his navel that accentuated his chest as he decided to forgo a shirt and a thing black choker similar to yours but tied in a small bow sitting in the hollow of his throat. Feeling his eyes roaming over your body and landing on you horns you busied yourself by chugging your drink and earned a holler from Hoseok. “Hey y/n can party!” Before anything else could be said, Casey spotted Valeria who was waving at you all to join her in the living room. Throwing your cup in the trash you followed Casey out of the now suffocating kitchen and tried to hide your expression as your eyes met the Red Devil while you slid passed him. “Hey girls!” Valeria smiled and hugged you both causing Casey to blush. Layla had stayed in the kitchen talking to Jin which made you smirk knowingly. “This is Subin” the man next to her looked up from his phone and sent a side your way, you noticed his costume as a werewolf from the looks of his tattered ripped shirt and what looked like a gnarly bite mark on his collarbone. “Hi I’m y/n and this is Casey” Casey narrowed her eyes at the man and how close he was standing to Valeria mumbling out a ‘I know who Subin is’. As you four talked you noticed Valeria standing closer and closer to Casey while laughing at some inside joke they shared. Before you knew it Valeria had swung an arm around your friend and they shared a soft smile. You really hoped all went well for Casey, if not, you might have to kick some ass. While you were thinking of the cuteness overload that Casey and Valeria together could be you heard a shuffle from your right “you look nice when you smile” Subin smiled at you and you felt the pink tint forming on your cheeks. As Casey pulled Valeria with her outside for some “fresh air” which you knew as go time. You decided to get straight to it and ask Subin himself “Are you and Valeria a thing?” choking on his drink he coughed out a loud ‘no no no no’ and you cocked an eyebrow. “Val and I are just friends, plus she’s not really into someone like me like that?.” “Someone like you?” Nodding Subin smiled knowingly and looked towards the door both girls had just slipped through. “As in she like boobs, your friends boobs to be exact.” Your eyes widened “Wait no! not her boobs, she liked your friend in general i was just saying boobs to accentuate how Val wouldn’t like me anatomically.” You giggled at how flushed he had gotten and he smiled along with you. You hadn’t noticed a pair of eyes staring as you talking to the man dressed as a werewolf. Hoseok noticed the look in his friends eyes, it was the same one Taehyung had gotten anytime you rolled your eyes at him, ignored his presence or had gotten in a heated debate. He had been sporting that look every time he looked at you for a little over two years now. Since your first year of college when you had shared a Psych class and battled for top spot in class. He knew his friend had taken an interest in you and it never dissipated. Taehyung sipped his beer and kept his eyes glued to your face while you smiled and laughed at something the man next to you had said. Hoseok was tired of nothing coming from this and slammed his beer down hopping onto the coffee table earning a ‘that wasn’t cheap get down!’ from Jin “It’s beer pong time!” Hopping off the table he stood in front of you in all of his Napoleon Dynamite Glory. “Y/n come play beer pong” he smiled at you and you could help but notice how beautiful Hoseoks smile was. Shaking your head “I don’t think i’ll be playing tonight Hoseok but than-“ Nami cackled at you from her band of barbies and interrupted “ Hope, don’t waste your time with her she isn’t worth it. Plus she probably can’t even play, she’s never even been to a party before.” Thats what caused you to roll your eyes and place your hand into Hoses outstretched one. “I’ll play”. You and Subin followed Hoseok to the side of the living room where a few beer pong tables were already set up. Layla and Jin had joined you as well, intrigued to see you playing. “Okay teams of two. Usual rules of no leaning over the table, must drink your drink if a ball is sunk, one re-rack per person on each team, and if a trick shot made with one hand behind your back and a foot away from the table is sunk by the opposing team they may make a request that you have to complete. Said request can’t be anything illegal or THAAAT bad. “Can I take a shot instead of drinking a beer? I don’t really do well with beer” you asked honestly which cause Hoseok to holler “Fuck yeah!” Before you could pick a teammate Hoseok smiled and pulled Taehyung over “We have to have the two Devil’s playing” You shrugged and asked Subin if he would be your partner to which he smiled an ‘of course’ which earned a cock of an eyebrow from Taehyung which Hoseok noticed and smirked. “I’d be on Tae’s team but I think to make it fair we should have another female” Nami walked over laying her hand on Taehyung’s shoulder and smirked “I’ll play” you rolled your eyes and mumbled an ‘i’ll play’ mimicking her shrill voice which earned a chuckle from Subin. “Ooh an Angel and a Devil on the same team, how heaven and hell” Hoseok smirked and set up the cups handing each team their set of ping pong balls. Layla and Jin brought you a bottle of tequila (your eyebrows shot up when you noticed it was ‘Gran Patron’ and then you remembered these people are well off. You had made the marg’s with a different bottle of Patron which while not cheap wasn’t as expensive as this particular bottle was) and shot glasses to replace the typical drink of beer if a ball is sunk. Beer really didn’t sit well with your stomach, you assumed it was the carbonation. “Layla you do know this is like a $500 bottle of alcohol right?” Layla smirked and Jin smiled responding “I don’t really drink Tequila unless it’s in a marg and my uncle left this bottle here from his last stay, as far as I’m concerned you can have it.” You opened the bottle letting the smell of Agave fill your senses and re capped it. “Ready?” Hoseok asked to which both teams agreed. Taehyungs team started to which Nami missed her shot, the next shot was Subins and he sunk it, picking her to chug what looked like some sort of fruity cider. Taehyung was next and he lined up his shot before seemingly sinking it before he looked up “Subin drinks” he said smoothly and Subin drank what was left in his cup. You were up next, carefully lining up your shot you watched as the ball plopped right into the cup and looked at the duo in from of you. “Nami drinks” Nami rolled her eyes “Ughh again??” she exclaimed and you smirked “What? can’t keep up?” you asked to which she grumbled and drank what looked like another cider. Nami sunk her next shot and picked you to drink, as you poured the liquid into your shot glass you smirked right at her while downing the shot like it was water. Unknown to you, a pair of dark eyes watched as you licked your lips while placing the glass down. The game continued with each of the teams missing and sinking shots until you won the game, hugging Subin you both had only had around 3 drinks each and decimated the other team. Taehyung called for another game as in 2/3 wins to win the full game. You had surprisingly agreed but only because Nami wouldn’t shut the fuck up with her little snide comments and you loved the look on her face every time she missed or you sunk her shot. The second game continued until there were only 4 cups left on your end and 3 on the opposing team. You and Subin hugged each other after your last shot that nailed Nami yet again and she held her stomach calling celebrity shot which basically called Hoseok into the game to replace her. You were 5 shots in and feeling light, not nearly drunk but nicely buzzing as you could hold your liquor well. Stepping in Hoseok smirked “Imma flip things up, If i sink this shot ya’ll gotta do my request” Folding his left arm around his back he took a few steps away from the table and focused on nailing the center shot, and to your surprise he actually did nail it. “Hmm little devil, I request that you take a shot” Your eyebrows shot up as that sounded easy enough. “Oh dear, not a normal shot. I’m talking about a body shot, your partner needs to lay on the table and you have to follow all body shot steps down to the lime in his mouth.” Rolling your eyes you turned to Subin to ask if it was okay with him. Your buzzing partner agreed and insisted after you asked if he was sure. Laying his body down on the table with the crown of his head facing Hoseok and Teahyung. He lifted his shirt up to his chest so that you could sprinkle salt from his navel up to his chest. Filling the shot glass, you placed it above his belly button and gave him the lime wedge to slip between his lips. Taehyung gritted his tech as you climbed onto the white table situating yourself above Subins lap. People who were watching the game from afar gathered closer to watch as you once again asked Subin if it was okay and he smiled a yes. Leaning down you tentatively dragged your tongue from his belly button up to his chest licking up the salt, then dipped back down to his belly button and wrapped your lips around the shot glass leaning up and getting the liquid pour into your mouth and down your throat. You crawled up his body and carefully took the lime from his mouth, making sure to dig into the flesh of the lime and not actually touch his mouth. After all, you just met him and didn’t want him to think you were taking advantage of anything. Throwing the wedge into a discarded cup you hopped off of the table and handed Subin a napkin to wipe the remnants of salt and tequila off of his body. “Can we get on with the game?” Taehyung grumbled and you rolled your eyes nodding. Subin sunk his next shot and Hoseok took a shot of Tequila instead of chugging a beer. It was now 3 to 2 and Taehyung missed his next shot, too focused on the way you were fanning your hand over the back of your next from the warmth the liquor was giving you. It was your turn and you sunk your next shot causing Taehyung to chug the beer Jin handed to him. Hoseok smiled and once again moved his left arm around his back “Might as well make it interesting, another request for another trick shot” you rolled your eyes and smiled at the brunette as he wagged his eyebrows and closed his eyes. You truly did not think he would sink another trick shot, let along with his eyes closed. But as you watched the ball sink into one of your cups your eyes went wide. You heard hollers and screams hyping up the shot that Hoseok had just made and mentally readied yourself for another body shot. “If you’re thinking I’m going to have you do the same thing, you’re wrong” Your eyebrows furrowed and he smirked “It’s Subins turn to take a body shot” Taehyung let out a deep warning “Hoseok, don’t” You didn’t understand why he would have a problem with it but you turned around to look at Subin to ask if he was once again okay with such a thing. He nodded and in turn asked if you were okay. Smiling you handed him a shot glass. After you situated yourself the same way Subin had, you saw him falter on where to put the salt since your top stopped right above your navel, and you grabbed the bottle of salt from his hand and placed a trail from your collarbone up your next. You figured it was safer than your cleavage. Subin handed you the lime wedge and you softly bit into it watching him fill the shot glass and place it above your belly button. Layla looked down at you and smiled as she saw you getting chorus of “Fuck yeah y/n” which had made Nami who was sitting down roll her eyes. Climbing into your body and leaning down, Subin let his tongue drag along your collarbone to your neck slowly before leaning down and wrapping his lips around the shot glass in the same way you had done to him and leaned up to gulp it down. Leaning down once again he was about to take the lime wedge from your mouth when a hand n his shoulder stopped him. Before you could ask what was going on you saw a strand of red and felt a pair of lips on yours pulling the lime away. Taehyung had had enough, he was tired of seeing you with Subin and even more tired of the games Hoseok was playing. When he watched Subin lean down to your mouth he couldn’t take it anymore and his body reacted on it’s own. Doing what it had been wanting to do for years. You watched as Taehyung spit out the lime wedge a leaned back down to capture your lips in his in an upside down kiss. A chorus of oohs and oh shits followed which caused you to push him off and jump off of the table. You shook your head at him and wrapped your arms around your body “What the fuck Taehyung?” you asked but before anybody could answer you, you asked Jin where the bathroom was to which he pointed out and you ran there hearing a “wait” being yelled but you didn’t care you needed to get out of there. You were being watched by everybody and that accompanied with the kiss from someone you thought you hated and assumed he hated you as well, well that was too much. Walking into the first floor bathroom you slammed the door and made your way to the sink. You looked at yourself in the mirror then looked down, bracing your hands on either side of the sink trying to calm yourself down. You could hear the bass thumping, causing the walls to lightly vibrate. There was a loud knock on the door followed by a series of “y/n please please open the door.” Letting out a deep breath you ran your index finger along your lash line, wiping any excess makeup that had smudged during your beer pong game. Stepping towards the door you swung it open only to be greeted with your best friend flinging herself on your short frame despite the high heeled boots you donned. “Hi, I love you, and before you say it. I know you want to go home but please don’t let those people get to you. So what if Tae kissed you? Don’t even acknowledge that ass wipe, and omg you should’ve seen Navi’s face when he kissed you. She legit looked like she was going to blow up like some sort of doll filled with helium!” Layla placed her hands on either side of you, softly gripping your shoulders, her deep brown eyes staring into yours softly. “Hey, talk to me? If you really do want to go home, i’ll go with you. But I really think you shouldn’t let anything that just happened get you down. Let’s just go back to the living room and dance all these feelings away! You’ve got me, Jin, Subin and Casey and Val ‘not that i know where they are.” While she rambled on you took in your surroundings, noting the pristine glass shower situated in the corner followed by the chrome towel rack that supported plush light grey towels. The porcelain toilet stood across from it, tucked into a corner of the light grey walls that matched the towels. As she finished her speech you already knew what you had to do, you weren’t going to let this get you down. You were so fucking tired of letting people get to you, you had no control over your life growing up but you sure as hell had control over your current self. You had amazing friends, were incredibly intelligent, worked your ass off at both of your jobs and were happy with the way you looked. Quirking up the left corner of your mouth you leaned in and planted a big smooch on your besties left cheek. “Layla, you’re right” Surprise crossed your best friends face, followed by a knowing smirk. “That’s my best bitch! Let’s get our asses down there and show them what a bad bitch you are, not that you haven’t already. I mean, dude you totes slammed like 6 shots no problem and you look HOT AS HELL.” Giggling you took her arm into yours and let her take you down the hallway into the crowded living area. The LED lights lit a soft purple hue that bounced off of the cream colored walls, further creating that fantasy look that enticed party goers to let all their inhibitions go. You noticed someone had moved the coffee table to a far corner closer to the beer pong tables, which had expanded the makeshift dance floor. The DJ was bopping his head to the current track he was mixing and the sea of bodies moving themselves to the beat was massive. You clutched Layla’s hand in yours as she pushed her way through the dancers and you all finally settled closer to one of the couches that had been pushed to a corner opposite of the tables where Jin, Subin and Hoseok had been waiting for you two. Jin placed a hand on your shoulder as if you check if you were alright and you smiled while nodding. “I’m so so sorry y/n, are you okay?” Subin asked and searched your face for an answer. Smiling at the man who had been your partner in crime for the passed hour, you nodded. “It’s all good, no need to be sorry. I do need another drink though. I think that little stint in the bathroom may have sobered be up more than i’m happy about. Hoseok smiled and shouted a ‘Gotchu’ before he bounded back off to the kitchen mixing up some concoction you knew would be strong. “Theres seems to be a lot more dancing than before” you jutted your chin towards the sea of bodies and Jin laughed. “I think most people are in that drunks haze where dancing is all they can do since they can’t seem to stand straight.” You chucked softly as you knew all too well how dancing enticed drunk people. The brunette thrusted a clear cup into your hands, quirking an eyebrow at him he responded with a chuckle. “It’s just bourbon on the rocks” Testing the liquid in the cup you smiled confirming it was in fact bourbon and nothing gross. You spotted Nami hanging herself on Taehyung in the corner towards the tables, your eyes met as she looked back at you with what looked like rage. Leaning her body upwards she leaned in towards his right ear and appeared to be whispering something to which he shook his head while staring into his glass. This seemed to upset her, huffing she once again leaned back up and attached you pink gloss covered lip to his neck. For some reason this had annoyed you to no end. For years Nami had been al over the tall man, only to be semi rejected with her advances which had brought you an odd sense of joy and seeing her lips on his neck as he just stood there caused you to rip your gaze away fro the pair and bring your cup up to your still burgundy tinted lips as the lipstick had faded away and left you with a just bitten look. Leaning you head back you downed the contents of the glass and slammed it down on the nearby end table that was situated by the couch. “Let’s dance?” you handed Jin your purse pulling Layla to the dance floor with you, not needing an answer to your question. As you both pushed through to the middle of the grinding crowd you best friend leaned in to your ear letting you know she’d be right back. Before you could ask what she was doing you saw her watermelon headband bounding up to the DJ who nodded when she leaned in close to him. As the first notes of the beat started you couldn’t help the smirk that planted itself on your lips. You giggled as Layla shimmied her way towards you and the first lines of the song began. Letting your body sway to the music, Layla laid her hands on your hips. “That’s my best friend, she a real bad bitch. Got her own money.” You both sang as you moved your hips in her hands. Placing both of your hands on her shoulders you turned her around and pulled her back close to your chest. Jin had been staring at your friend’s hips swaying along with yours and you decided you wanted to put on a show for him. Running your hands up her tight covered thighs up to her waist she leaned forward and gave her ass a little twerk causing you to chuckle. Turning her body around she gripped your hand in hers and spun you around, you made sure to wiggle your hips as you spun. “She been down since the jellies and the bow-bows” you shimmied your hips and saw Casey and Val bounding their way towards you two. As they got closer you noticed Caseys Peter Pan hat had gone missing and Vals pink lipstick was smudged, both girls walking hand in hand. Throwing Casey a knowing smirk she shrugged lightly and Layla wrapped her arms around both girls, creating a circle. “Where have you BEEN?” Layla yelled over the music at the two but shook her head after taking in their appearances “Nevermind I don’t want to know, wait, or do I?” wiggling her eyebrows she smoothed down Caseys wild blonde bob. Val seemed to enjoy the blush that had formed on Caseys cheek and she leaned close to place a kiss on either cheek, further fueling the crimson on her cheeks. As the intro to Bad Bitch by Bebe Rexha came into play you all raised your hands up into the air and swayed to the beat. Hoseok came into view, thrusting a shot into each of your friends hands and you all posed for his snapchat video while downing the shots of what tasted like whiskey. “Gross, I don’t know how you like liquor” Casey said, her cute face scrunching up into a sour expression and you giggled. Leaning down you touched your toes and twerked your ass to the beat earning a “fuck it up” from Layla and Val. As you ground your hips back into your best friend you looked up catching Taehyungs burning gaze on your flushed face. Cocking an eyebrow up at him you turned around in Layla’s hold swaying your hips. “Ugh, prissy bitch incoming” Layla whispered into your ear and you followed her eyes to Nami who pulled Michelle and a bored looking Taehyung onto the dance floor. Your eyes followed Navi’s movements as they slid up and down the devils chest and Michelle settled her hands on his shoulders behind him. Your jaw tensed as Nami’s hands trailed up to his neck. Meeting his dark gaze you narrowed your eyes slightly and shook your head, turning around and grabbing Hoseoks hands pulling him closer to you. The LED lights turned a deep red hue as the opening to Streets - Silhouette remix started and Val exclaimed “Let me put this on insta, y/n your horns loom so good in this light!” Posing with your back towards Hoseoks with your head leaning onto his shoulder, the latter gripped your hips and leaned his face into your neck while Val took the picture. As the tune changed and the beat dropped with it’s intoxicatingly slow beat you swayed your hips against Hoseoks, bending your knees and slowly sliding up and down his body. Trailing his fingers up your sides he grilled your hips and turned you around to face him. You heard Layla lean into Casey saying something along the lines of ‘oh shit’. ‘I found it hard to find someone like you’ you slid your body down the Brunettes, never leaving his gaze ‘send your location come thru’. Leaning back up you rolled your head around and he wrapped a hand into your hair, his other gripping your right hip tighter. your hands settled themself on his shoulders and you leaned towards his left, your eyes catching onto Taehyungs dark gaze, his eyes never leaving yours as Hoseok ground his hips into yours. Even as Nami wiggled her hips in front of his and trailed her hands under his blazer, his arms stayed at his sides, never touching the Angel nor the Bunny who still danced her body against his back. Hoseok knew his friend was watching and he couldn’t help but smirk, gripping your hair tighter he moved your face towards him and pulled you in until you were a few centimeters from his lips as he moved your hips along with his. ‘We belong and I can’t be without you’ Doja’s voice crooned through the speakers as Hoseok leaned in closer to your lips over the hazey cloud of smoke and tightly packed bodies. You internally debated wether or not you truly wanted him to close that gap and land his lips on yours, but the only thing you could think of was the gaze of a certain someone on yours. Before you fully decided on if you wanted the man in front of you to kiss you, your body was pulled away from his. A strong grip was formed around your wrist and all you registered was Layla and Casey wide eyes before you were being pulled away from the dancing bodies and up the stairs. You barely registered the click of a door being opened followed by your back hitting the hard wood. “What the hell were you doing?” Taehyung rasped out staring deeply into your eyes with a mixture of what looked like want and fury. You placed your hands on his chest pushing him back slightly and jutted your chin upwards. “Excuse me? I was dancing with my friends and Hoseok, not that that’s any of you business” Taking a step towards him. “What the hell do YOU think you’re doing? dragging me up to this room and thinking you can manhandle me.” Receiving no answer you shook your head and were prepared to turn around and walk right back out of that door. “You drive me fucking insane. Seeing that Subin guys hands all over you and then you dancing like that with my best friend.” You felt yourself being pressed against the door once again with his large hands on either side of your head, his rings glinting against the soft light filtering in through the open curtains. Cocking your eyebrow up at him you stood your ground. “What? are you Jealous?” you snorted out. “Yeah, yeah I fucking am” At his surprising answer you looked up seeing nothing but want in his deep eyes with a glint of something else you couldn’t quite place. “You’re fucking insane. Don’t play with me” you rasped out, your voice hoarse from singing and dancing earlier. “I’m not playing” was all you heard before your head knocked back against the wooden frame of the door followed by a pair of plush lips crushing yours with a ferocity you suddenly craved. He tasted like cinnamon and liquor and you loved it. Something inside you both seemed to snap in that moment and you trailed one of your hands up, curling your fingers into his soft hair and tugging on the makeshift horns it was styled into. Your other hand settled itself onto his warm chest fingering the labels of his blazer. Taehyung growled out at you reciprocated the kiss and trailed his right hand down the door, settling on your hip and pulling you impossibly closer to his body. Feeling teeth nibbling at your lower lip you gasped out and he took the chance to slide his tongue into your mouth, your tongues immediately fighting for dominance. Tugging his hair harder you felt his hand that had been on your hip slide lower until it was gripping a handful of your ass cheek, followed by a grunt. You could still hear the music that was thumping downstairs but it was slowly being drowned out by the man in front of you. The plush pair of lips that was against yours slowly trailed down to your jaw, nipping at the flesh softly until they reached your neck. Nuzzling his face against your warm flesh as he littered the area with whisper soft kisses. Slipping your hand under his blazer you trailed your nails lightly along his skin earning a low hiss from his deep voice. Smirking, you dug you nails harder “You’re playing with fire babygirl” Taehyung gripped both of your hands into one of his large palms and pressed them against the door frame grinding his hips into yours. Feeling his length against your covered core you couldn’t help the soft whine that escaped your lips. Taehyung trailed his lips back to your neck and sucked on your pulse point causing you to arch your back. “Y/n i really don’t want to stop, but I need to know that you want this too” the man in front of you pulled back slightly while he waited for a response. Letting out a small ‘yes’ he leaned back down capturing you in another searing kiss. Flexing your wrists in an outwards circular motion you freed yourself from his grip and took a step forward placing your hands against his chest and effectively spinning him around so his back hit the door. Despite the height different even with your heels you kept your palms flat on his chest with your strength, keeping him against the door. Arching a dark brow up at you Taehyung smirked. “Not going to lie, that was pretty hot” you felt him grumble against your mouth as it attached itself to his tan neck. Sucking a few bruises against his flesh you felt his need growing against your stomach and you couldn’t help your involuntary clench of your thighs. His smell was intoxicating, a mixture of fresh linen, cinnamon and musk. You felt his hands trail up the backs of your thighs and grind the flesh under your ass, signaling you to wrap your legs around his waist. Leaving one more bite against his neck you complied and jumped up latching your legs around his sturdy hips. Walking you both backwards, Taehyung leaned you downwards until your back was hitting the large bed tucked against the wall. Arching your back towards him you pulled him onto your body by his shoulder and moaned into his mouth as he captured your lips in his. Biting down on your lower lip hard, Taehyung ground his hips down against yours. While his mouth felt incredible against yours you knew you wanted, no, needed more.“Need more” you whispered out causing his to chuckle against your lips and lean his body up. Smirking down at you he cocked his head to the side and trailed his index finger up your torso and chest. “Sorry love, I couldn’t hear you. What was that?” Rolling your eyes you reached up tugging his hair into your grip. “I said, I.Need.More” you said though gritted teeth at the knowing look in his eyes. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?” before you could retort you felt his mouth latch itself on your collarbone and his hands trailing down your legs, pulling the zippers to your boots down before tossing them on the floor somewhere. Trailing his hands behind your back he began trying to undo your top. “While these straps are hot, they aren’t fucking functional for shit. How the hell do I take this off?” Taehyung practically growled out causing a chuckle to leave your lips. Leaning up slightly you helped him unhook the main portion of the top and pull the strappy harness over your neck. Tossing the item he had been fumbling with to the side he couldn’t stop admiring your breasts covered only by your black lace bra. You shivered as he trailed his hands up your chest, his cold rings causing your nipples to perk up and a gasp to leave your mouth. Leaning his face down, Taehyung started trailing soft kisses along your chest downwards to your torso and back up. His hands were once again at your back, this time working fast successfully unhooking your bra. Looking into your eyes he hooked his fingers under the straps on your shoulder and slowly pulled down releasing your breasts from their confinement. Biting down on his lip he started at your perky nipples and full breasts. He had always loved your curves and didn’t ever think he’d get to see them this way. You felt his soft lips wrap around one of your nipples and gasped as his tongue lightly flicked against the hard pebble. Your hand in his hair pulled him closer to your chest and he smirked. He pinched your other nipple between his fingers which earned a low moan. His mouth being soft on one of your nipples and his fingers being rough on your other one caused an intoxicating juxtaposition and you couldn’t help the little whines that left your throat. Fiddling with your button and zipper, Taehyung successfully started to pull your pants down, leaning up and leaving your nipple with a loud pop of his mouth. Tugging to pull your pants off of your legs he hissed when he saw your core only covered by your thin lace panties. You heard your pants hit the floor in a loud thump and bit your lip in nervousness as you realized just how exposed you were in front of this infuriatingly beautiful man. “You’re fucking beautiful” He rasped out, trailing his eyes up your body and landing on your face. Before he could hike your legs open and upwards you spoke up “You have way too many articles of clothing on” Smirking he complied with your request and popped the single button holding his blazer together, sliding it down his shoulders and throwing it in a heap on the floor. You heard his shoes being kicked off as well before he leaned back down to resume his earlier ministrations. His large hands slid down the insides of your thighs and pulled them open to reveal your soaked panty covered core. You swore you head him let out a low whine but before you could comment on it you felt a warm pair of lips latch onto your clit through the fabric. Arching your back off of the bed you gripped his shoulder in your hand. Taehyung rubbed his index and middle finger along your slit and hooked themselves around the fabric pulling it to the side and exposing yourself to the cool air and his waiting mouth. Laying his left palm flat against your lower tummy he leaned in giving you a soft tentative lick to your slit. Biting your lip between your teeth you moaned out when he latched his mouth around your clit and sucked harshly. “F..Fuck” Hearing your moan he sucked against and gripped the flesh of your thigh with his other hand keeping your legs open. Alternating between sucking and flicking his tongue against your sensitive nub he loved the way you tasted and couldn’t get enough of it. If it was up to him he would do this all day every day. You ground your hips up into his mouth causing him to smirk against your cunt. “Needy” he growled out and trailed his fingers that had been on your thigh down to your slit, running the tip of his middle finger around your opening before sliding itself in to the knuckle. You brought your right fist to your mouth and bit down to keep yourself from moaning out. Slowly pumping his finger in and out, he watched as your finger disappeared into your wet heat taking him in so good. “Fuck you’re wet” Looking up into your eyes he saw you biting down onto your fist and stopped his ministrations “ If you want more I need to hear you babygirl” Muffling a ‘please’ you released your fist from your mouth and wove it into his hair. Pleased with your sounds he continued sliding his finger in and out of you, adding his index finger into your heat hissing at how tight you were. “Shit you’re tight, gotta make sure you’re nice and ready for my big cock babygirl” Arching your back, you felt his press against your inner walls and curl his fingers causing you to dig your fingernails into his shoulder and tug his hair harder with your other hand. Latching his mouth back onto your clit he lightly hummed which sent vibrations through your body. Whining with need you continued grinding your hips up onto his face and rolled your eyes closed. Taehyung looked up at you watching your fucked out expression and almost choked when he heard you whining his name. Working his tongue against your click he started to harshly pump his fingers into you before slowing down and inching his middle finger into your heat. You felt your cunt burning at the stretch but the look in his eyes caused another gush of arousal to seep out and coat his fingers further. “Jesus..fuck you’re so hot and you taste so fucking delicious” As he slowly pumped his fingers in and out you felt your stomach clenching, that familiar feeling on your realize building with each flick of his tongue against your clit. “Tae.. Tae i’m going to cum if you keep doing that.” Sucking harshly he curled his fingers and pressed against your g spot “Cum babygirl, let me taste you before I slid my fat cock into your needy cunt” Rolling your eyes back you felt your legs start to shake as you gripped his hair almost painfully between your fingers. Your stomach tightened and you felt yourself clench around his fingers. Your breath becoming shallow as you let out a series of ‘oh fuck yes’ and ‘omg omg’ your hand that had been on his shoulder came up to your chest as your pinched your nipple between your feelings and felt the metaphorical dam of your orgasm approaching. Taehyung sucked harshly before grazing his teeth lightly against your clit and your eyes shot open feeling your legs convulse and your toes curl. With a final whine you felt yourself cum all over his tongue which he licked up like a starved man. Breathing deeply you felt the sweat drip down your brow for your intense orgasm and when he stood your eyes followed down his torso gleaming with sweat and down to the prominent bulge in his pants. Biting your lip you caught him staring at your cunt that had just cum around his finger and he started to pull your beyond soaked panties down and off of your legs. Looking back up into your eyes he slipped each finger between his plums lips and licked them clean. Groaning at the action you felt yourself clench. “Think you can take more baby?” He smirked at you and you wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him against you and ground your soaking cunt against his covered length. “You’re getting me all dirty, fuck that’s hot” He growled out and slid his fingers down unbuckling his belt. Popping the button of his pants, he pulled the zipper down with your eyes following every movement. Sliding his pants down his thighs he kicked them off and hooked him thumbs into his black briefs. You couldn’t tell if you were really drooling but once his slid his fried down and his cock sprang free you knew me heard your very audible groan followed by a clench of your thighs. Sliding his hand along his shaft, he pumped his leaking length a few times and reached to the side opening a drawer and seemingly looking for a condom. Gripping his arm you shook your head “I’m on the pill, are you clean?” His eyes widened at the possibility of what you were saying and he nodded “I haven’t had sex in a few months and when I did I wore a condom, I also get checked every month if you want to see the results I have them on my pho-“ You cut him off by leaned up and kissing him. As you layed back down against the pillows you smiled up at him an he swore he felt his heart flutter and his cock pulsate. Hooking his right index finger under your thin leather choker he pulled you up and he ground his uncovered cock against your dripping pussy. “As much as I love these, they have to come off they’re barely hanging on your head. Not knowing what he was talking abut you felt his fingers prodding at your scalp and finally run through your hair with the devil horned headband and clips in his hand. Setting them down on the beside table he leaned back piping his cock and wrapping his fingers around his thick head of his shaft. Leaning down he took your mouth against his and you felt his thick tip push against your slit. Locking your ankles around his back you ran your hands down his shoulder and gripped his back. Your walls pulsated around him as he slid in inch by inch and you threw your head back as your walls accommodated his thick size. When he finally bottomed out in your heat he stilled letting you relax as he filled you to the brim. Sliding his tongue against your he grunted when you involuntarily clenched around him. “You're so fucking tight, you make me crazy” he growled out and settled his mouth against your neck, nipping and sucking the skin as he slowly pulled out only to ram himself back in. Moaning loudly your grip on his shoulders tightened and you knew you were leaving crescent moons on his luscious tan skin. “Crazy? you seem pretty soft to me. Why don’t you fuck me and show me just how crazy I make you” you teased. After sucking harshly on your neck he sat back up and gripped the undersides of your thighs pulling them apart from his hips. “You’re so bad, want me to ruin you? Open you up with my fat cock?” you nodded and trailed your tongue along your lower lip preparing yourself for what he was about to do. Ramming himself up into you again you grated your teeth and looked up into his dark eyes. His rhythm was slow and harsh, pounds into you with each thrust of his hips. Your walls enveloped him and he swore he wasn’t giving you up after this, hell he wasn’t giving you up after that first kiss on that beer pong table. He was going to make sure you knew how he felt and hopefully you felt the same way. If not, he’d respect it but at least he’d know you knew how he felt. Watching your tits bounce with each thrust he heard you mumble out a raspy ‘faster’ and he complied, pushing your thighs farther up against your chest. At this knew angle you swore you felt him in your stomach. “Oh god” you ground out and his eyes flashed even deeper if that was possible “Fuck yeah, moan for me y/n” Sliding himself in and out of you at a fast pace, you could hear his balls slapping against your ass. The room filled with shallow breathes and curses spewing from either of your mouths. Taehyung slid his palms under your ass and gripped your cheeks between his large hands, squeezing harshly before pulling you up so you were sitting on his lip with his cock still stuffed inside of you. As he thrusted upwards you met his thrusts by bouncing your hips and wrapping your legs around his waist. His hands held you by your ass, pushing and pulling your body on and off of his cock. Leaning towards him you sucked a bruise onto his neck and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. Feeling his cock his that sweet spot you shuddered and clenched around him tightly. “Stop doing that before I cum” he gritted out and you pulled back from his neck smirking. “mm maybe that’s what I want” With a sharp thrust upwards into your tight cunt he splayed his right hand agains the bottom of your spine and pulled you as close as you could get. “You’re devilish, I swear. You want me to fill up your little pussy with my cum? is that what you want? to get filled?” his deep baritone voice filled your ears and you clenched impossibly tighter around his shaft. “T..Tae fill me up..I need it!” you moaned out loudly and he pushed your body back down onto the bed, pushing your ankles towards your chest he situated himself on his knees and started ramming into you to the point where your body slid against the bed. Reaching one hand down, he lightly gripped your neck. “Yeah? want me to fill you up? Then cum baby, cum all over my cock.” “Tae..Tae..I’m going t..to cum. Fuck you’re so deep” your eyes fluttered closed as he gripped your throat and you held onto his back. “Cum for me y/n, let me feel you soak my cock as I fill you to the brim” Feeling your body start to convulse you opened your eyes to see his fucked out face, sweat dripping down his cherry colored hair and down his neck. His hand flexing on your neck and his abs flexing with every thrust. His low moan of your name sent you over the edge and you clenched around him. Your thighs closed around his hips and you moaned out his name. Curling your toes your this quivered and your inner walls fluttered around his throbbing shaft. Arching off of the bed and towards him his grip on your neck loosened and he leaned down capturing your hips in his as his hips stilled and you felt his warm cum spitting inside of your waiting heat. Thrusting his cock back in and out slowly he let out a low groan as the remnants of his cum filled you. Taking deep breath he watched your face as he slowly slipped out of you and trailed his eyes down to watch the clear and white liquid leak out of you. Letting out a deep whine he leaned forward and captured your lips between his. His lips were soft against yours, still passionate but not as fiery as they had been earlier. Pulling back his gaze studied your face. “Tae..I” before you could continue he shook his head. “Wait before you say anything, please let me get this out. I’m sorry for the way things happened tonight but I don’t regret any of it. Iv’e literally liked you since we first argued about the attributes of the human brain during psych. That one time you called me an aloof imbecile I almost pulled you out of class and kissed that pretty look off of your face. I assumed you hated me and it made me mad, instead of being a normal human being and just asking you why you hated me I decided to take it out on you. If you didn’t like me, at least I could gain your attention arguing with you.” “And tonight, seeing you with those other guys..I couldn’t help but think it would’ve been better if it was me. I needed to stop being a pussy and just fucking tell you how i felt.” He shook his head as he spoke. “ What about you and Nami? and the fact that you laughed the other day when she made fun of what I should be for halloween and my tattoos” Scrunching his face he sighed. “First of all Nami is just a friend, well more like a family friend. Iv’e known her since I was young and I guess I was just used to her being there. Nami and i have never done anything and never will. Secondly, I didn’t laugh at whatever she said. to be completely honest I drowner out her voice after she asked how you got an invite. I has laughed at a meme Jin sent me of our other friend Namjoon whos away for a semester in Paris, with a bald cap on looking like a grandpa due to his old school vibe he always has. That being said, i’m sorry I never defended you when she said anything to or about you. I really wanted to but you were always so good at defending yourself and that one time Jose defended you, you had turned around and told him you didn’t ‘need a man’ to defend you. So that combined with me thinking you hated me, I just assumed you’d end up really hated me and wouldn’t give me the time of day when we argued anymore.” Climbing off of your body Taehyung sat down next to you and studied your expression. “I don’t hate you per say, I hated that you always argued with me, I hated that you scored higher than be despite never seeming to study while I worked my ass off, I hated that you came from money, you never had to fight for what you wanted or what you deserved. I hated that you were Nami’s friend and always seemed so aloof, like you really didn’t care about anything. But I didn’t..I don’t hate you as a person” you turned towards him. “Who said I never study? My parents would kill me if I scored sub-par. Hell, the only reason I can live here with Jin is if i keep up my grades and don’t disappoint them. If i didn’t care about anything my ass would be living in on campus housing and having an RA breath down my throat while my parents called me everyday asking if I was completing the study forms they sent over. Yeah I’m well off, but that’s my parents money and they worked hard for it. They put hard work and intelligence above all else.” your eyebrows rose at his confession and you get bad. You had assumed so much about him these passed two years and none of it seemed to be right. “I think that’s why I started to like you so much, you’re so intelligent, you work so hard at everything you do and you carry yourself like such a strong person. You kind of scare me if i’m honest” his deep voice chuckled and you smiled. “You’re beautiful inside and out” Taehyung said softly brushing his thumbs against your cheeks. You could feel the tenderness in his chest and your heart fluttered. “Maybe I liked you too, maybe that’s why I always waited for you to argue with me. I like how intelligent you are, I like that you always have something to say about whatever point I’m trying to prove.” You said softly and the corner of his mouth lifter slightly “liked? past tense” Rolling your eyes you covered your face and grumbled. “fine, LIKE. As in present tense” Taehyung stepped off of the bed and chuckled “THE y/n likes me? i’m honored. Sure its not cause I just made you cum twice?” throwing your arm off of your eye you watched his figure retreating into another door before flicking a light on. “Shut up Tae!” Chuckling he emerged from what you assumed was an ensuite bathroom with a wet cloth and situated himself between your legs. “I like when you call me Tae” he said and you blushed, feeling the cool cloth wipe gently along your folds. Sliding the cloth along your legs he finished cleaning you up and smiled up at you gently with his every so beautiful boxy smile. Returning to the bathroom to drop off the cloth you heard the water turn on and assumed he was cleaning himself off as well. Letting your gaze look around the room you noticed the bookshelf across from the bed you were currently on. On its shelf sat different picture frames, books and what looked like plushies. On the other side of the same wall sat a dark grey desk complete with a laptop, a mini plant and various knickknacks and a chair with a navy blue hoodie that you noticed to be Taehyungs hanging off of the back of the chair. Next to the bed was a nightstand that had a lamp, an iPhone charging dock and a bottle of water. The door that connected to the rest of the house was on the same wall. Against the wall to the right of the bed was a large dark grey dresser that matched the desk and what you now noticed to be the bed frame. On the dresser sat bottles of cologne, accessories and a picture frame. Next to the dresser was the door Taehyung had disappeared into and another door you assumed to be maybe a closet. Furrowing your brows you realized this was Taehyung’s room and not just another guest room. Up until his confession earlier you assumed he lived in a luxurious off campus house paid for by his parents. While this was a luxurious Townhome it still wasn’t what you had pictured. As Taehyung walked out of the ensuite he opened a drawer and dug through until he found was he was looking for. Sauntering up to the bed he handed you a t-shirt and what had seemed to be your phone that had been tossed on the floor earlier and pulled on a pair of briefs over his legs. Holding the soft cotton material in your fingers you smiled and thanked him before slipping over your smaller frame. Checking your phone you immediately noticed a series of texts from Layla starting from concerned up to a text that had a winky face telling you to ‘get it, I came upstairs to check on you but your moaning let me know you were doing just fine’. Smacking your palm against your face you blushed bright crimson. Taehyung who had looking over your shoulder when you gasped at the text was giggling and you smacked his chest. “Ow, you hit hard” He said while still giggling. “So, would you..uh stay the night and maybe grab breakfast with me in the morning? I mean know that we’ve realized we both don’t hate each other and we kind of lik-“ Pressing your lips to his you felt him smile against your lips before you pulled back. “Yes, now can we sleep?.” Nodding Taehyung pulled you against his chest and brushed a few strands away from your face as your eyes fluttered closed. Running his hand along the flowers that decorated your right arm he smiled to himself before eventually closing his eyes as well. Interesting how Misunderstandings happen, isn’t it?

————————————

Omg this was supposed to just be a drabble from the pic of red haired Tae and inso from a game of beer pong, BUT ALAS this monster was born. this is my first fit so any constructive criticism is appreciated. Any love is beyond appreciated too <3 I have some ideas for other pics but i just want to get my page situated first. Any messages are welcome too <3 i lub talking to people.

-C otherwise known as, Potitties

#taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #btssmut #bts fic #bts taehyung #bts #smut #fic #college fic #enemies to lovers #tae #kim taehyung #tae smut #fanfic #fluff #angst #first fic

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copias-thrall · 4 years ago

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Cause I'm Young and I'm Here and So Beautiful

A look into the rise and fall of Mary Goore's flash-in-the-pan modeling career.

~12.5K Mary Goore/Reader *drug/alcohol use; mentions of past child abuse; brief homelessness; plot no porn; POV shift*

This fic was inspired by and is very loosely based on Aurelio Voltaire's early days in NYC in the 90s, though I have set it in Boston in the early aughts. 😊

Many thanks to the artists who did commissions for this! 🥰

One Way Streets

Mary stepped off the regional rail and gripped his backpack. He had $72.57 in cash rolled into his socks and a give-em-hell attitude.

When he’d packed his bag the night before, he wasn’t even sure if he’d go through with it, but he couldn’t stand being home anymore. Some of his friends had told him he was crazy.

"Three more months, dude. You got this. Just finish high school, then bounce."

But they didn’t have to live with his dad and the step-monster. Every day was a new indignity. Having them bitch about his music and his style was one thing—that he could have dealt with—but everything else had just kind of…escalated.

Now that the kiddies were older, they’d turned into gremlins. They’d somehow sensed that Mary wasn’t their beloved older brother—he was some sort of half other. They’d stopped questioning why "mom was so mean" to him and had accepted that she was because there was something wrong with Mary. They realized they could be little shits and blame everything on him.

And dad just didn’t care. He’d throw up his hands and say, "I have to live with her"—as if Mary wasn’t in the same boat.

Dad hadn’t stopped her when—in a rage—she’d smashed every single vinyl album Mary had owned because the twins ruined her nice tablecloth. He’d shrugged when she cut all Mary's guitar strings so he couldn’t play "the devil’s music." He’d held Mary back when she took a match and burned all his secret stuff that Mary kept under his bed—action figures, books, guitar mags, journals—in the backyard because he got detention for smoking. He hadn’t said a word when the police showed up after she came at Mary with scissors because he’d dyed his hair black and he’d pushed her away before she could scalp him.

Mary thought for sure he was going to get carted off to jail as she screamed about him terrorizing the family and being afraid he was going to kill her sons in their sleep, but the officers had just looked at her bored and told her being a teenager wasn’t a crime.

So, no: Mary couldn’t wait 3 more months.

He’d scraped together what money he had left from his secret shifts working as a busboy under the table at a local dive downtown, packed his backpack with the essentials, and walked the 5 miles to the train station instead of going to school.

Eighteen was 10 weeks away. He could fudge it for a few months, especially since he could already get away without using his fake ID to get into shows most of the time.

So, to the big city it was.

He shifted his weight and tried to pretend that he belonged here in Boston, but actually facing the busy streets was a lot different from looking at a bird’s-eye view map. He had a printout in his pocket, but he didn’t want to look like a doe-eyed tourist. So he set off down the seemingly labyrinthine streets in the direction he could have sworn was the correct one.

It wasn't.

When he came out a side alley into Faneuil Hall, he almost wondered if he'd gone through a fairy portal, since he was clear on the other side of town. Begrudgingly, he checked his creased map, and set out once more.

And ended up spit out by the State building.

Finding the hostel turned into a fraught adventure, and he got turned around several times more. When he tried to ask for directions, most people pushed past him while one lady shoved $5 at him. He used the cash to buy a hotdog, and it was the vendor who ultimately gave him directions in his thick, Southie accent.

Of course, making it to the hostel ended up being just part one. The rates were almost double what it stated online ("Sorry, honey—that site hasn’t been upgraded since the 90s."), and two nights were practically all his savings. Mary had thought he’d at least have a couple of days to find a job, not 36hrs.

He left the hostel, wondering for the first time if maybe he shouldn’t go back home…but he decided it was a nice day out. Surely there was some place he could hunker down. Just for the night.

What he hadn’t anticipated was the cops at every fucking turn telling him to move along. And any place out of line-of-sight seemed to already be inhabited.

He finally found a place behind some rocks in the Seaport where he didn’t think he’d be murdered in his sleep, curled around his backpack, and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

Mary woke up damp from the dew and the morning sun streaming into his eyes. The birds were creating an awful racket, but Mary guessed it was as good an alarm clock as any.

He ran his fingers through his bird's nest of hair, and he made his way back to the South Station. The men’s room may have smelled like a sewage treatment plant, but at least it was free. He had expected it to be mostly empty at the crack of dawn, but it was full of commuters making that last run to the head before they had to take the train 2hrs out of the city for work.

And it was a sight: a bunch of suits with their fancy lattes washing their hands, and Mary in the corner trying to surreptitiously wipe down with paper towels under his Misfits t-shirt and his shredded jeans. At school, he’d have probably gotten into several altercations by now—no one would have let him just turn into Mary Goore without a fight—but this was Boston, and no one gave him more than a cursory glance.

Just another college kid.

It emboldened Mary to go full-out in the kind of way he had only done when going out to the punk shows downtown at night: kohl all the way around his eyes, and some on his cheekbones; mascara because his lashes are long and thick, and he knows it (his dad had said it made him look hard, and Mary had sneered that maybe that was what he’d been going for. But maybe it had been because he’d liked the way it had made his green eyes pop.); a smear of the step-monster’s fanciest matte lipstick on his full lips; and airplane glue in his hair to give it that lift.

He made a kissy face at himself in the mirror, and headed back out.

It was a nice Spring day—almost boiling in the direct sun—and it tempted Mary to wear only his battle vest, but even he kind of figured applying to jobs half dressed was a mistake.

He walked all over the city, trying not to get lost, looking for any kind of work—dishwasher, busboy, barback—but all he had to show for it was blistered feet and a raging appetite. The only good part of the day was that he noted any restaurant or bakery that looked like it might toss perfectly good food at the end of the day.

He and his friends had become experts at dumpster diving in his podunk town, and he felt confident that he had a good feel for a jackpot. Mary staked out a bakery and was rewarded with a find of "old" bagels. He shoved as many as he could into the nooks and crannies of his backpack before slinking off to the Commons to inhale at least two of them.

Cold, stale dough never tasted so good.

He watched the tourists and the professionals walk by in ones and in groups while he ran his bare feet through the grass. Some laughed with each other as they sauntered down the path while others seemed singularly intent on their ultimate destination. A pack of dogs ran and played with each other as their owners looked on fondly, and nearby the baseball diamond hosted a casual game.

Mary counted his lucky stars that his first week in Boston was April at its kindest—always mild during the day, even when it turned cloudy, and a few times even downright warm. The nights turned chilly, though, and it had Mary in more layers than an onion. If the birds or damp didn't wake him, his butt cramps from being curled in a tight ball all night did.

He spent those days walking around the city proper looking for work. He wasn't adventurous enough to make the leap across the bridges to Cambridge just yet, but his travels gave him a good sense on how the different sections of Boston connected—and showed him potential places to crash at night. He didn't even mind living off day-old garbage food and drinking from bubblers (he'd bought a water for the express purpose of reusing the bottle), but the barren wasteland that seemed to be the job market was beginning to weigh on him.

At home, he could always find a shit job if he was willing to put up with shit hours and ridiculous requests. Here, though, Mary was just one of many desperate people willing to do desperate work.

And he didn’t look particularly trustworthy or reliable.

@dipendancesld

Hashtag WTF

I’m scrolling through Insta on the T, and I’m way down the rabbit hole of hashtags. New content was at a minimum this morning (how can I follow accounts in triple digits and only see the same 4 posts?!), so I’d started with some art tags and ended up where I usually end up—trolling social media for blurry pictures of my boy.

His band has been a local staple for years—or at least that’s what he told me on our first date. I had just moved from New York after a nasty breakup, ready to start fresh, and I’d seen him at a coffee shop hanging posters for his next show in his leather jacket, asymmetrical Metallica crop top, and stomping boots.

Fresh had never looked so good.

Then, a few months back, an online publication had featured his band in the year’s 50 best bands "you’ve never heard of," and now the band's starting to gain traction.

He’s starting to gain traction.

Finding the new online content of him first has become a game the two of us play. We had to stop counting images posted from the popular fan accounts because Mary's now acquaintances with most of them, and I said it was hardly fair to snipe me that way. Mary had pouted—but it was to cover up his grin. So now we troll for the pictures of his latest gig or at his favorite haunts from either his casual fans or one of his new ones. I even have a whole range of hashtag typos saved if I really want to triumph, since Mary just doesn't have the attention span.

I usually win, though, by virtue of not keeping Rockstar Hours—and because Mary doesn’t have a smartphone. Mary delights in spending the wee hours while I'm sleeping finding new content, and I'll often wake to one he's pulled up on my laptop and a "suck it" sticky note stuck to my monitor.

(But I’m reigning supreme.)

There’s a thirst tag I sometimes comb through (for reasons), and today I’m desperate for that morning serotonin to keep me from dozing off, which is why I stumble across a particularly convincing cosplayer in some…risqué poses and outfits.

The dude is really good, and I have to admit he really does have Mary’s mannerisms down pat. He’s younger and a little skinnier than Mary is now, but his facial expressions are on point. I zoom in to see the contouring technique because he's using one of those filters to make it look old…and that’s when I sense something off. I can’t quite place my finger on it, but usually there’s an uncanny valley to his serious cosplayers, and this dude looks so real. He’s even 100% accurate with the mole placement, which is something I never see.

My heart does a flip-flop.

Is that…actually Mary?

Foundling

Mary's sixth night in the city, it rained. It was more of a brief Spring shower, but it was still enough to soak him and his backpack through. He shivered through the early morning hours until the sun came up, then he made his way to the Commons to lay his belongings—and himself—out into the sun to dry.

By midday, he had a slight sunburn across his nose, but most of his things were dryish—though the food was a soggy lost cause. He cut his losses and decided to buy a sausage from the hotdog vendor, even if that meant he was down to $52.37 in his sock bank.

It was the most amazing thing he'd ever eaten in his entire life (sometimes he still dreams of it), and he gobbled it down as he sat in the grass and watched the show of people pass by.

He could take today off from his job search.

Just another Groundhog Day of rejections.

A gaggle of kids about his age walked past, and he lit up when he saw them: studs and bright hair and cuffs and combat boots. They ran and shrieked and shoved at each other, and Mary had never felt such longing to be a part of something.

Not that nebulous feeling of "my world is out there somewhere," but "my world is right there if I can just get to it."

And he realized maybe he could.

These were his people.

Mary hopped off the bench and approached the boisterous group.

"Uh, hey…guys."

The pack stopped and looked him over, confused but not hostile.

"Oh hey, man" said a girl with green fins and a studded, leather jacket.

"Hey."

I have nowhere to go. Can I go with you?

"Sorry, I forgot your name."

"Oh, you don’t—"

A guy in a tight striped shirt, snake bites, and blue hair interrupted him.

"Shit, were you in my intro into film class last year?"

Mary was a high school dropout.

"Nah, dude. I’m new and shit."

…But he wasn’t stupid.

A curvy white goth with bleached blonde hair and a cream princess dress smiled at him.

"Aww, that’s rough, honey. If you think about it, they really ought to give transfers on-campus housing. It sucks to be so new and away from the action."

Mary nodded. "Yeah. Sucks."

"Well, we’re going to The Pit, wanna come?"

"If you guys don’t mind…"

"Fuck, the more the merrier!"

Mary smiled as they assimilated him into the group. He found out the goth’s name was Vanessa ("But call me Vanity."), green fins was Alexa ("Or Alex. I’m trying it out."), striped shirt was Billy, and the two other punks were Mandi (Manic Panic red) and Aaron (band tee, spiked collar).

No one laughed at him when he introduced himself as Mary or asked him why he had a girl’s name.

They took him onto the T at Charles MGH, and Mary marveled at the setting sun over the Charles River before the train ducked underground to barrel in Cambridge. At Harvard, they ushered him off the train and directly into The Pit, and Mary almost cried when he saw the pit rats there playing hacky sack, strumming guitars, and smoking cloves. Mary watched as his group high-fived, bumped chests, and hugged nearly everyone there before introducing him as if they’d known him for years.

He was shit at hacky sack, but he accepted a round on the guitar and shared a clove with a white girl who had a rat's nest of hair.

"Fuck their beauty stands," she said when she caught Mary staring.

Mary smiled and pointed to his own mess of hair. "Fuck ‘em," he repeated.

She cackled and handed him a brown bag with what he expected to be whiskey, but tasted like turpentine.

She laughed harder at his face as he coughed, and she pounded him on the back.

"Moonshine, dude. Lenny makes it in his bathtub."

"Which one is Lenny," Mary asked as he wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Oh, he’s not here. He goes to MIT. We have a strict trade agreement—booze for pot. I’m Katie."

Head fuzzy, Mary had made out with her until Aaron tugged on his arm.

"Shit dude, we gotta go before the T closes. You live close to here?"

"Uh…"

"Aww, I think he got into Lenny’s moonshine," said Vanity. "If he’s a transfer, I bet he’s at some shithole in Allston. You in Allston, honey?"

Mary just nodded.

"All right then," said Alex, taking charge. "We’ll put him up tonight. There’s no way he’s gonna make it back to Allston by himself, and I’ll be fucked if I’m trekking out there without a BU party to crash."

Mary wobbled slightly as Alex took his arm in his and led him to the T.

"Ok, we gotta go now or we’ll all be hoofing it."

They took Mary back to their dorm by the Hatch Shell and signed him in as a guest.

"Is this ok?" Mary asked warily—he didn't want to get kicked out in the middle of the night.

Mandi patted him on the back.

"We do it all time. No one really gives a shit. Vegan Mick dropped out 2 semesters ago and they don’t even check for his ID."

That night, Mary slept in the common room on a lumpy couch that was half as long as he was.

It was heaven.

The next morning seemed like the end, and Mary slumped as Vanity to sign him out. For one brief day he'd been a part of something, and now it was back to Mary, party of one. But Vanity took one look at his face and asked if he wanted to get breakfast at the dining hall.

Of course, he wanted to…but he thought of the dwindling cash in sock bank and hesitated. Vanity, bless her, misread his trepidation.

"It's on me, sweetie. I know most transfers don’t opt in. Too expensive when it’s not bundled. No worries, I got a ton of points I don’t use."

Alex and Aaron were already half done with their food when Vanity and he joined them, and they looked on in amusement as Mary ate half the breakfast buffet.

When the subject of classes came up, he shrugged off questions.

"None this morning."

Alex narrowed her eyes at him.

"What year did you say you were?"

"Sophomore."

"Not a freshman?"

Mary shook his head. "I’m not a freshman."

She seemed about to ask another question, so Mary quickly changed the subject.

"I thought I’d spend the day applying for jobs. You guys know of any place that’s hiring?"

"No work study?"

"No."

"What kind of work you looking for?"

"Shit, anything. I’ll sweep the fucking floors."

They bandied about ideas, places for Mary to try, but no one had any leads. Too soon, some unknown gong had them scurrying to get to class.

Mary suddenly panicked.

"Hey, do you guys mind if I spend the night again? I mean…"

"Yeah, sure," said Vanity. "Aaron?"

"Yeah, man. Meet me after class and I'll swipe you in."

It apparently was a time-honored tradition, passed down from upperclassmen to underclassmen, on gaming the guest system. Most kids used it to essentially move their significant others into their dorm rooms, but a handful every year used it to give haven to others who had questionable housing situations.

So, just like that, Mary had a place to rest his bones.

@dilfpassing

A Deeper Look

I’m so intent on scrolling through the comments on the grainy pics—which I'm sure now are actual scans—that I completely miss my stop, and I have to put my phone away so I can wheeze lightly jog my way to where I work as a receptionist at an alternative hair salon.

It’s really important that I start a good hour before we open so I can return any calls left on our voicemail first thing in case I can fit anyone in today. Which means I have to shelve my find for now, much to my irritation.

Mornings are super-busy because apparently there are some people in the world that like getting up with the sun and want everything done by noon. (June Cleaver’s salon lets me get away with a lot—like coming to work in denim short-shorts and ripped tights, free hair colors, and a snarky attitude—but late start times aren’t one of them.) I honestly don’t have room in my brain to obsess about the pictures because I’m too busy answering calls, making coffee, settling accounts, and giving the new customer spiel for the 57th time to a walk-in.

It’s just after midday, when Penny, the shampoo girl, collects my cash for the salon-wide sandwich run, and I finally have a moment to breathe. And obsess.

I take out my phone again, and I have to retrace my steps because of course the app has refreshed, which is why Sonia has the time to look over my shoulder.

"Missing dream boy’s dick so much you gotta spend your lunch hour ogling pics of him on the internet?"

I zoom in on the one of maybe!Mary in his underwear.

"Who does that look like to you?"

Sonia makes a guh sound in her throat and backs away.

"I don’t need to see your intimates!"

"That’s the thing! It’s not mine!"

"Your boy’s nudes get leaked??"

I wave my arms around.

"I don’t freakin’ know! They may not even be him. Fucking. C’mere and help me out!"

Sonia warily creeps back over, and so does Ryan, since all the yelling has attracted him.

The three of us peer over the phone as I scroll through the images again.

By the time Penny comes back with lunch, we’ve gone back and forth on who’s in the images—Mary or a fake—and I haven’t been able to do any actual research. The afternoon rush starts, and I have to table the whole thing again, having made no progress at all.

It isn’t until near-closing, when most of the other stylists have gone home—and it’s only June who does the post-work crowd—that I can really dig into the matter.

A deep dive and a couple of defunct, decade-old forums later, I find that what I took as an aspirational hashtag was actually the name of a zine called "Heroes."

There’s like, zero online trail about it—except for a few other grainy scans of other pages of articles, poetry, concert pictures, and art—but it seemed to be an early aughts missive for local underground culture and color.

It still doesn’t explain why Mary’s in there in various states of undress and poses.

Or why Mary has never said a word about it to me.

Stripped Bare

Mary settled into a sort of routine. He spent most days looking for a job—any job—with his backpack full of food from their dining hall. Most nights he rotated couches on different floors so the RAs didn’t notice that he basically lived there.

He made friends with Vegan Mick for about 5 seconds until Mary had eaten an entire Rotisserie chicken from 7-11 in front of him. Mick had launched into a whole spiel, and Mary had pointed out that Mick's jacket and Docs were made of leather. He’d only meant it as a joke—a callout in answer to a callout, like he'd do with his friends back home—but Vegan Mick had turned purple, then iced Mary out every time he saw him after that.

Oops.

The brief friendship had lasted long enough, however, for Mick to give Mary some tips and tricks of being homeless.

Homeless.

That had been a tough pill to swallow. Until Vegan Mick had put Mary’s situation like that, Mary had just thought of himself between places.

But it was true: he didn’t live anywhere. He skated by on the kindness of his new friends, and he didn’t know how much longer he could keep up the ruse of "transfer student who didn’t like his shithole apartment and was too busy job searching to concentrate on classes."

He still spent a few nights a week finding an out-of-the-way place outside to hunker down in or huddling in with Katie and a few of the other gutter punks under their boxes in the corners of the T stations. He knew they would have been more than happy to make room, anyway, but Mary always emptied his backpack of all the pilfered dining hall food for distribution amongst them.

It honestly wasn't so terrible now that he had friends and a warm place to go on cold or rainy nights, but.

He needed an actual place to live. To afford an actual place to live, he needed a job. To get a job, he needed a place to live.

It seemed like a catch-22, and he began to despair that he’d never get ahead…until Mandi offered him a leg up.

Mary was sitting on the grass in the Commons in the shade, thinking that with summer coming up, maybe he could fudge it until the gang came back in September. There was always Katie and The Pit, and Mary was sure he could chip in somehow.

Mandi sat down next to him.

"I thought that mess of hair was you, Mare."

"Hey, Mandi. What’s kicks?"

"You still looking for a job?"

Mary put his head in his hands and sighed.

"Don’t remind me."

"You over 18?"

Just last week. But Mary hadn’t said, since they thought he was a Sophomore.

"Yeah."

"Wanna be at least 21?"

Mary grinned at her.

"That’s what my fake ID says."

She laughed, a tinkling thing.

"You got anything against strip clubs?"

Mary furrowed his brows at her.

"Uh…what’s the right answer here?"

She shoved him playfully.

"Do you want a job?"

"Yeah?"

"Then say no."

"No. No problems with strip clubs." He squinted at her. "Are they looking for male strippers?"

She laughed again.

"Definitely not." She canted her head at Mary. "I mean, you're very pretty, Mare. I could probably put you on as one of the girls…even with these triple As," she flicked playfully at his nipple, which had him grunting and batting at her, "but I was thinking more behind the scenes."

Mary held up his arm and made a weak muscle.

"I don’t think I’d be much of a bouncer, Mands."

"You said you’d wash dishes, sweep floors and shit, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, the club I work at—"

"The club at you what now?"

Mandi gave him a strange look.

"Yeah. The strip club I work at."

Mary’s eyes bugged out.

"As a…waitress?"

"As a stripper, Mary. Duh." At his dumbfounded look she shook her head. "It’s kind of extra credit, as a dance major. I’m going to turn it into my thesis. Plus, I make hella bank."

She swept her arm across the park that made up her college "campus."

"How else do you think I can afford this rock-and-roll lifestyle? Not all of us are here on scholarship or mom and dad’s dime."

She tilted her head at him.

"I thought you’d get it."

When Mary didn't respond, she touched his shoulder.

"Mare. I know you don't go here."

"W-what…? I…"

He looked at her, wide-eyed as the blood drained from his face.

"Hey, it's ok. I'm not gonna tell anybody. Not if you don't want me to."

Mary looked down. "Thanks." He rubbed the back of his neck. "You know that means I've got no address."

Mandi bumped his shoulder and waved his words away.

"A lot of the girls dance. Paddy is used to dorm rooms as addresses. You can use mine."

Mary looked at her, hoping he could convey every ounce of gratitude he was feeling.

She grinned and punched him in the shoulder.

"So, you up for it? Sweeping floors and bussing tables?" She leveled a look at him. "Cleaning up puke?"

Anything.

"Fuck, I’m desperate, Mands. I’ll hold their hair back if it means a paycheck."

"That’s the spirit!"

***

Mary was sure Patrick was part of the mob—or at least in cahoots. The guy had taken one look at Mary’s ID and had said, "But how old are you really?" and Mary had said, "Nineteen."

Patrick had thrown up his hands. "Well, you ain’t gonna be serving alcohol anyway, kid. Your job is to do whatever I tell you. Some asshole breaks a bottle, you clean up the glass so the girls don’t hurt themselves. Some idiot ralphs all over the toilet seat, you scrub the shit out of that fucker. A bachelor party leaves a table a hot mess, you better be out there clearing off the table for the next one, got it?"

Mary had nodded.

"You show up at 5 to help the girls set up the bar. You stay til whenever it takes to close down—but you only get paid 'til 2am—and you get an hour to eat, unpaid. You don’t bother the girls, and," Patrick had leaned in, "you don’t steal from me."

Mary had gulped and nodded emphatically.

Patrick had jabbed a finger at him. "That includes the booze. If I get fucked because some snot-nosed, underage kid is drinking with my good friends Jim and Johnnie, I’m gonna be very put out."

"Got it, sir."

"Don’t call me sir. I’m Paddy to my friends, so you can call me Patrick."

"Yes, Patrick."

Patrick had looked him over.

"You get paid as an independent contractor just like the girls, so you gotta deal with your own taxes, you got that? I’ll start you at $10 an hour."

Mary’s eyes had gone wide. Back home he was lucky to get 5.

"Ten…?"

Patrick had tilted his head again.

"No, you’re right, 12. Do a good job, and I’ll think about raising it to 15."

Mary had to physically stop his jaw from dropping.

"You do weeknights for now so if you fuck up it’s not that much of a problem. If you don’t fuck up and the girls don’t hate you, you can get weekends. Deal?"

Mary had sat up straighter. "Deal." He’d held his hand out, but Patrick had just looked at it until Mary pulled it back into his side.

"Ariel vouched for you, so I’m giving you a shot. Don’t make her regret it."

Mary had shaken his head as Patrick had handed him some forms to fill out.

"Come back at 4 tomorrow with these and we’ll get you started. Now, get out, I got shit to do."

Mary had taken the forms and skedaddled.

Mandi was outside waiting for him, all smiles.

"Did you get it?"

"Yeah, but fuck—your boss is scary."

"Nah, he’s a teddy bear."

***

The job was awful.

The puke was an almost nightly occurrence, and by the end of the first week, little cuts covered Mary’s hands from the broken glass. The customers were loud, rowdy, and acted as if their mother was going to clean up after them.

Mary swore he would never get the beer smell out. It now lived in his soul.

One dude punched Mary and broke his nose for no reason Mary could tell before the bouncers dragged the guy away. The girls gave him some tampons to stop the bleeding, and Mary finished his shift.

Patrick paid Mary in cash at the end of every week with a "It’s your job to report that, not mine," and at the end of the month, Patrick bumped Mary up to $15/hr. He worked 5 days a week because, according to Patrick, "The Lord gave us a day of rest, and you get one day off per week."

Mary never reported a single cent to the IRS.

The girls loved him, and joked that Patrick had gotten them a pet. They showed him winged eyeliner and smokey eyes and how to contour. They guffawed when they watched him try out their shoes like a newborn deer. On slow nights, they tried to show him pole techniques.

He saw the gang less and less because by the time they were getting out of class, he was going into work, and when he was done work, they were crawling into bed. Fortunately, the desk sitters seemed to forget that he wasn’t an on-campus "student" and didn’t even bother signing him in anymore. There were a few sticklers, but Mary found that—while back home he was less than scum—here, he attracted all the right kinds of attention…and a smirk with the right compliment went a long way.

By the time their school year ended, Mary had saved up $1,000 (and he needed to transfer his money out of sock bank and into the ripped lining of his jacket).

Even though they didn't know just how much they'd saved him, Mary showed up on the last day as thanks to help them all move their stuff into family cars or rented trucks. They hugged him goodbye and said to ring them next semester.

Mandi bopped him on the nose and told him to keep his nose clean.

Mary took a sublet in Allston with 2 BU kids and a Berkley grad student. The "room" was a closed-in porch with a sleeping bag left by the last resident—but it was $400 a month until September, utilities included.

At first, Mary didn't know why the gang was so snobby about Allston, but the summer seemed to be one continual party. It didn't matter what day Mary got up, there were always broken beer bottles and stale beer on their front stoop, and the apartment had a designated watering can for washing away the vomit that dripped down from the top porches to their own.

But he took it in stride, and when he wasn’t at the strip club or sleeping, he was partying with the BU kids, or letting the Berkley grad show him better string fingering techniques.

Mary still tried to get out to The Pit with what groceries he could spare, but Katie had moved on with some of the others to do a protest tour with an activist street band that had come through town, and without her or the gang, it made Mary feel lonely.

By the end of the summer, Mary had saved up enough money for first, last, and security. He even had some left over to buy more than ramen and some new clothes. To Mary, it felt like a million dollars. He rented a garden-level apartment in the cheap part of Jamaica Plain for September 1st and spent that entire day with the BU dudes driving around in their rented truck for Allston Christmas’s best furniture finds.

Mary ended up with a mattress that he hoped on a wish and a prayer didn’t have bedbugs, a mismatched set of dishes, plastic drawers that were slightly warped, and a broken futon frame he swore he would fix. Throw in a few sets of slightly used string lights, and Mary’s cave felt downright homey.

When the gang got back, he simply told them he’d dropped out.

"Yeah, I just don’t think college is for me. Music’s my real passion, you know?"

Alex had groaned.

"I knew that Berkley kid was gonna be a bad influence on you."

Mary shrugged.

"My grades were shit anyway. But I’m still around, you know. The strip club’s only a block from campus."

"Because we saw you so much then," deadpanned Billy.

"Hey! Stop piling on Mary," said Vanity. "He’s following his path."

Mary shot her a wide smile.

"Thanks, Vanity."

Patrick finally gave him a little more leeway with his days off, and Mary started taking Saturday night to join the gang in Harvard Square for the shadow cast of Rocky Horror. One of Aaron’s classmates, Amber, was in it, and they all wanted to support her.

Mary felt that something again. That thing that told that this was his place and his people. This eclectic group who got up in front of strangers every week in their underwear for free enthralled Mary.

He and Amber bonded immediately, and Mary began going even without the gang. The cast welcomed him in as an honorary groupie, and Mary's friendship with the gang waned. There was still Mandi to cavort with at the strip club, but now when Mary wasn't there, he was at any one of the Rocky crew's apartments getting high and playing dress up.

"You’ve got such a Look, Mare," sighed Amber. "I’d kill for your cheekbones."

"I’d kill for your tits."

She slapped him playfully. "Don’t be gross."

"No, I’m serious. Someone once put it in my head that I'd be a hot chick."

The girls had giggled and proceeded to dress him up in bras and corsets with cutlets. They added a wig, and the glo-up surprised even Mary.

Still buzzed, they went out for girl’s night and hit up all the bars in Fenway and flirted their way to free shots from the dude bros before batting their falsies at bouncers to let them into the clubs ahead of the line and without the cover.

The cutlets eventually became a nuisance—and soon they were all flapping them about above their heads as they danced—but Mary had loved the feel of the lace and satin corsets against his skin.

When they’d all collapsed in a pile at the end of the night, Mary wondered if they’d tell him where to get some lingerie for himself.

***

By August, Mary was ready to quit the strip club.

He was tired of cut fingers (they were making it hard to play the guitar he’d bought), the drunks, and the sick everywhere. Now that he had a little cushion, he thought maybe he could at least find something with better hours.

Mandi had graduated and was well into a summer internship at Disney in hopes they’d bring her on as a dancer.

Alex had also graduated and moved out to LA to make it as a film editor.

Vanity and Aaron had started dating after finals, and they had moved in together in Cambridgeport for their last year.

Billy had stopped going to classes before dropping out altogether. No one seemed to know what happened, and when they called his home, his mother just said he was unavailable.

There didn’t seem to be much reason to stick around the Grid anymore, and it was a bitch of a commute back to his place if he wasn’t going to hang out with the Rocky crew. He landed a job at a record store that was walking distance to his apartment.

Patrick seemed surprisingly sad to see him go, saying, "Ah, the good ones smart up," and gave him a $500 bonus for not "fucking up."

Tim, one of the older Rocky people, turned out to not live too far from him, and when Mary started hanging out there, so did the party.

Now that Mary was no longer shackled by the strip club’s hours, his world opened a few more degrees. He spent his nights dressing up while he watched the cast rehearse. (When he showed them a move or two he learned from the women at the club, they tried to get him to do a guest star as Frank. But Mary had shaken his head and said that wasn’t the kind of performing he wanted to do.)

When they weren't rehearsing, they dragged Mary to TT The Bear’s, The Middle East, and The Milky Way Lounge for underground shows. They took him to fetish night at ManRay after a trip to Hubba Hubba for pleather and lingerie, and Mary made a lot of new friends.

Sometimes, Mary would show up to work straight off a night out in his club clothes, eyeliner smudged and lipstick smeared. It should have got him fired, but his boss just shrugged.

"I used to keep rockstar hours too."

Mary still wore all his old vestiges—his battle vest and his ripped jeans—it was just that now he sometimes added a corset and heels.

Wherever Katie was now, he hoped she knew he was still fucking their beauty standards.

ry.omen Insta

Answer Me This

I practically vibrate the entire way back to our place. I'm still trying to wring information out of the internet like it's too-wet clothes, but the only thing I accomplish is making myself motion sick on the bus, so I put my phone back in my pocket and breath through my nose.

When I get home, Mary is sprawled across the couch in his pjs with various limbs hanging over sides and edges as he watches some extreme sport show on my laptop.

I wonder if he just got up, but I see the start of dinner on the stove, so I decide not to snark at him.

"Hey," he says without looking up.

I am, however, gonna need some answers on "Heroes."

I gently close the laptop, and he meets my eyes.

"What?"

I climb onto the couch, and Mary’s limbs recede like vines to make room for me as I scroll through my phone to my photo app where I’ve saved screenshots.

"Lucy," I say in a terrible accent, "you have some ‘splaining to do!"

Mary squints at me and takes my phone, his expression morphing into one of surprise.

"Shit, babe. Where’d ya find these??"

"So they are you!"

He chuckles.

"Christ…I haven't thought about these in fucking years."

"Mind telling me what the fuck?" I ask, my hands on my hips.

I'm only half joking.

Mary grimaces at me.

"Ah."

"I'm gonna need more than that, mister."

He rubs the back of his neck.

"Fuck, you know those were hard times for me."

I know about his family, the homelessness. I know he tried out a lot until he found a life that fit. He'd given me the overviews with occasional anecdotes filled with names I never remembered.

But none of them included naughty pictures.

I worm my way under his arm.

"Yeah, I know, Mare."

His hand strokes down my arm.

"I mean, shit. I was kinda an asshole, you know?"

I wrap an arm around his chest.

"You're still kind of an asshole, Goore."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

When he doesn't say more, I poke him hard in the side.

"I’m literally dying here."

He laughs a little.

"Fine. But you gotta remember you asked."

Model Behavior

One day, Mary was walking down the street on his way to drinks with the new friends he'd made the weekend before. It was a good day. He wasn’t hungover as fuck, his makeup was only smudged artfully, and he was pretty sure he was going to get laid.

A guy in a leather jacket and tight jeans maybe a few years older than Mary stopped him on the street.

"Hey, man! I love your style."

Mary batted his eyelashes at him. "Thanks, dude."

"You ever think of dark modeling?"

Mary squinted his eyes at him.

"Dark what now?"

"You know—modeling but like," he gestured up and down Mary’s form, "for dark beauties. Show the world beauty isn’t cookie cutter."

"For like what? A website or some shit?"

The guy dug into his pocket, pulled out a card case, and handed one to Mary.

Heroes Greg Karson, Photographer/Web Design Butera School of Art

Actually, Mary had heard of this. It was a zine about the local happenings around town—concerts, art shows, parties, etc. There was a stack of them next to "Rrriot!" in the record shop. He’d flipped through one occasionally, mostly interested in the band reviews.

"We’re really on the lookout for anyone with the right look. You know, wear stuff you already own."

"So like a street fashion spread?"

"Well, we might do a little more with it, but—you know how it is. Most of the budget goes toward printing costs."

Mary perked up.

"Would I be paid?"

Greg laughed.

"Peanuts, my dude. But yeah. Even if it’s a T token. You interested, then?"

"Hell yeah!"

"Mind if I take a few test shots."

Mary smirked at Greg.

"How do you want me?"

"Just natural."

Putting his hands in his pockets, Mary arched his back and gave Greg his best snotty hipster face.

Greg dug out a digital camera from his carrying case and took a dozen or so pictures of Mary from different angles while telling him to turn this way or that.

Afterwards, the two of them huddled over the camera and scrolled through the shots.

"Aw yeah, this one. I love the attitude. The guys are gonna love it. You have a number where we can reach you?"

Mary gave him the number of the record shop. (His apartment had a phone, but he’d never gotten around to wanting to pay for service.)

Later, he and Amber looked up the Angelfire website on the back of the card. It was one page that contained the mission statement, bios of the creators, and locations to pick up the zine.

"Omigod—you’re gonna become a famous model, Mare!"

"Yeah, right. You know most of it ends up in the trash, right?"

But when Ben called, Mary said he was game. He directed Mary to a co-op in a converted warehouse in Dorchester, and Mary brought his favorite clothes in a borrowed duffle.

A girl in cat pajamas opened the door and pointed at a set of metal stairs with her cereal spoon.

On the second floor, Mary found Greg setting up a makeshift studio. A girl with multiple piercings and yarn dreads leaned against the wall in her black babydoll dress.

Mary sidled up to her.

"You here to model, too?"

She gave him an unimpressed once-over.

"I’m the art director, asshole."

Mary flushed hard as she turned to Greg.

"Couldn’t find one with brains?"

She turned back to Mary.

"I don’t know if you thought this would be a good way to meet chicks or what, dude. But I’m letting you know right now that I’m here on my day off to make sure this adheres to our aesthetic, so if you're not serious, fuck off."

Mary rubbed the back of his neck.

"Shit, sorry. I was expecting a dude named Ben."

She waved her hand in the air as if dispelling Ben.

"The Bens are morons. Good idea, terrible execution. I’m here to make sure we remain true to the idea of 'Heroes,' so don’t fuck up my shoot." She gave him a once over. "Christ. You have any experience?"

Greg turned from where he was testing the white balance.

"Angelique, stop harassing the talent. We get it, you have a degree from RISD."

Angelique snorted.

"As if I don't hear you going on and on about being a professional photographer. 'Hey, lemme shoot your portfolio, baby.' Whatever. As if we're not your only professional credit."

"Hey—you wanted a photographer for peanuts? You got me. You wanted models for peanuts? You got him."

Mary gave her his full snaggle-toothed grin.

"I take T tokens."

Angelique sighed, then pasted on a smile.

"Hi! So happy you’re here!" Her smile drooped. "You got your wardrobe in there?"

"Yeah."

Mary handed her the duffle, and she handed him release forms.

"Here: sign these"

She pawed through his offerings.

"Not bad, not bad." She pulled out a corset and his heeled boots. "We'll keep you in your jeans and have you wear your jacket over your corset. Cool?"

Cool.

The shoot was as professional as a shoot in a warehouse in what Mary was taking to usually be a living room could be. Angelique directed Greg with what she wanted. Greg called out positions and expressions for Mary to pose in.

It was surprisingly hard work, and by the end of a solid hour, his smirking lip was getting tired. Angelique and Greg scrolled through the shots, murmuring to themselves and nodding.

Mary waited—greeting at the other inhabitants as they squeezed by on their way either up or down—until Angelique approached him.

"That’ll do. You mind if we post on our website?"

Mary preened.

"Yeah, that’s kosher."

She handed him a pen and pocket notebook.

"Write down a quick bio."

He scribbled down a quick elevator pitch

Into general skulking and metal \m/

and handed the notebook back to her.

"Great, thanks."

She handed him a $20 bill, her eyes skimming him up and down.

"Next time we should show off those hip bones. Just jeans, I think."

Mary perked up. "Next time?"

"We’ll call you."

***

"Omigod, omigod!"

Amber perched on the record store counter, flipping through "Heroes," as Jon peered over her shoulder.

"Mary…look at you!"

Mary tried to swallow his smug smile.

Failed.

"Yeah. I’m hot shit, ain’t I?"

She bopped him on the nose with the newsprint.

"Don’t be vain."

He showed her his toothy smile.

"I like to think of it as confidence."

"So did Icarus."

Mary snorted and went back to putting prices on the new CDs.

"The camera loves you," said Jon, who was always quiet and reserved as you please…until he put on Frank’s corset and heels.

Mary had tried flirting with him, but Jon always ducked his head and played it off.

"Thanks, man," said Mary, giving him a softer smile.

"So??"

"So what, Amber?"

"Are you gonna do it again?"

Mary shrugged.

"I mean, if they call me, sure."

But he was kind of hoping they would.

When the next issue came out weeks later, Mary stared at the cybergoth on the pages and felt himself deflate. Listlessly, he thumbed through the delicate print, barely skimming the section devoted to the World/Inferno Friendship Society’s set he’d been at the week before.

He set it down with a sigh before he picked up his guitar and plucked out a tune he was trying to coax into a riff.

By the time a Ben called again, Mary had given up the modeling thing as a one-off.

"Hey, dude—thought maybe you guys forgot about me," Mary said in a teasing tone.

The Ben on the other end chuckled.

"It’s like herding cats to get shit out. Nah, dude—we definitely want you to be one of our regulars. You in for next Saturday?"

He was.

***

Over the course of a year, "Heroes" had Mary come out multiple times for shoots. Mainly, Mary wore his own clothes and did his own makeup, but occasionally, Angelique wanted something specific.

"How comfortable are you with boudoir shots?"

"With what?"

"Like a pinup, but more…saucy than sexy."

I'd pose nude if you paid me enough.

(Sure, he was a noodle boy, but he knew he had the goods.)

"Yeah, I’m cool with that."

Angelique brightened at him.

"Great!"

She picked up a set of complicated leather garters and thrust them at him.

"Put these on."

Mary had only ever worn lace garters—mostly out to clubs, but occasionally under his ripped jeans for an extra pop—but he found he liked these even more, liked the way they emphasized his thighs.

"Hey—where’d you get these…?"

(He was already thinking of what he could pair them with for goth night.)

"Local leatherworker. He mostly does pieces for Renn Fairs, but he'll also do custom. I can give you his info."

She led Mary into what was clearly someone's bedroom.

"Don't fuck anything up, or Joye will never let us use this again."

Mary shot her his best shark smile.

"Hey, I only mess up the sheets if someone asks."

Angelique gave him a flat look and called for Greg.

(But when he draped himself over the bed and told Greg to "Paint me like one of your French girls," Mary could have sworn she almost smiled.)

On one memorable occasion, she brought in a guy whose rope bondage demo she watched at a sex convention.

"Put on some of that lingerie and we'll truss you up. You ok with that, Goore?"

Mary ran his fingers over the coils and gave her a wolfish smile.

"You know I'm game for anything."

She gave him a vulpine smile of her own then, and she looked down at him from the height of her platformed boots.

"Good. I thought you should be submissive for once."

Mary had no witty rejoinder for that.

He listened with interest as the guy carefully explained what he was going to do, complete with pictures, and he relaxed easily into the process. (They put bunny ears on him, and it would be much, much later that he got that particular joke. Well played, Angelique.)

The ropes hadn’t let him do much posing, but Mary had kind of liked the constriction, and his thoughts were already on asking Amber to help him create a more versatile version for fetish night.

He’d left that day with a new kink…and the guy’s number.

"Why not just do one big shoot?" he asked another time. "Get it all done in one big bang!"

Angelique held up his garments to eyeball over him.

"Honey, we never even know if there's gonna be a next issue. The Bens spend most of the time arguing. My god you should hear them—Ben bankrolls the whole thing, so he says he should get final say on shit, and Benji wants total artistic control because it was his idea, because 'he's the graphic designer', and because it's his Kinko's employee discount they use."

She gave Mary a curled-lip smile as she tossed a few items at him.

"In the end it's this bitch you're looking at who gets shit done."

Mary began to change (they were long past modesty).

"How'd you get involved?"

"Went to school with Benji."

"Ben too?"

"Neg. The Bens are childhood friends. Ben works some cushy start-up job, so Benji lets him bankroll them both. Rent, utilities—everything. I love Benji to death, but he's a giant mooch."

"Shit, that must be nice."

Angelique shrugged. She stood back to appraise Mary's look.

"It's fucking lame. But it least it gets us fucking paid."

Mary didn't say I'd do this for free. Instead, he struck a pose and said, "I'm just happy for the exposure."

Angelique rolled her eyes and went to fetch Greg.

***

That year and a half would become a nonstop party with Mary as one of the VIPs; he wouldn't say no to anything—be it casual sex, club appearances, or whatever drug the current pretty thing was offering him in the bathroom.

But recognition started slow.

At first, it was customers who would leaf through the zine and recognize Mary.

Then, it was the occasional scenester who’d stop him on the street in JP as he walked about, and Mary would pose for grainy cell phone pics.

Soon, he was being approached at shows and clubs. The first time it happened, Mary was high off his new infamy and ready to please. A woman in a black bandage bra and pleated skirt with bondage straps approached him, and Mary was already thinking of what he could do with those.

"You look like that guy in ‘Heroes’!" she'd shouted to him over the music.

Mary had flashed her a crooked smile and leaned in.

"Maybe I am the guy in ‘Heroes’."

She'd given him an exaggerated once over before sidling closer with hooded eyes.

"I dunno…you're wearing way more clothes."

Mary had pulled his mesh top down by the collar in a tease as he'd curled over her.

"Take me somewhere more private and I’ll let you do a comparison."

She'd compared him all night.

And that was before he and the other "Heroes" models formed their own posse.

The Bens had thrown a BBQ and had invited everyone they'd ever met. There were people packed into their little 2 bedroom in Brighton, spilling down the back stairs, and equally packed into the little square of shared backyard. Ben had taken the 12-pack of 'Gansett beers Mary had brought, then introduced him to the other dark models.

"Now you're all here!" said Ben. He slung his arm around Mary. "Guys, this is Mary. Mary this is Mayhem, Lesley, Lola, and Bryan."

Mayhem was a rivethead, and Mary took to him instantly, but he was wary of the others. Lesley was the cybergoth who'd been in the first issue after him, and Mary still felt a bit salty at them, even though Mary knew by now the Bens rotated the models. Lola, the romantic goth, reminded him enough of Vanity that he felt guilty for losing touch with her and had him projecting a little. Bryan was a metalhead, so: competition.

Mary had thought they'd get along like cats and water, but weed, booze, and "Never Have I Ever" went a long way to creating a shared bond.

And there it was again. That pull. The magnetic force telling him that he'd found the place he was supposed to be. They quickly coalesced into their own pack, calling themselves the "Deathbutantes" (because they always killed it when they debuted for the night).

It had been rare for Mary to miss Friday and Saturday night shenanigans with the Rocky crew, but now, every night was Friday night. There was always a show or a concert or club that one of them knew about—and if they couldn't get lucky with the local color, they'd just go home with each other.

Mayhem taught Mary what Lola jokingly called the "grab a bat" dance, and the two of them cut quite the picture on the dance floors.

Lesley took to Lola, and the two of them could always be counted on for scintillating conversation in dark corners when Mary's limbst needed a break from flailing about.

The clubs weren't really Bryan's scene—take him to a sticky hole in the wall with concrete floors and a stage close enough to feel the sweat from the bands, and he was in heaven—but he liked to come along to hang. He'd drink PBRs, rub Lola's feet when she invariably abandoned her heels for the evening, and argue with Mary about the purity of death metal.

Mayhem and Lola weren't really into live music of the screaming kind, so—while Lesley, Bryan, and Mary bounced off each other in the mosh pits—they'd save a "home" base at one the bartops.

Amber noticed Mary's diminishing presence and stopped by the record shop to call him out.

"So you're not dead! Could've fooled me."

Mary was organizing the albums into order, and he grunted at her.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm a cad. I'll make it up to you."

"You missed game night."

"Sorry. Jethro Tull played some tiny venue in nowhere Mass, and Bryan was salivating. I mean, Jethro Tull. Can you blame me?"

He looked at her, arms out wide in supplication. But she just blinked at him.

"You have no idea who Jethro Tull is, do you?"

"Sorry, dude. But christ, Mare. You should have invited me. I'd've gone. Maybe I would have even liked them. Now you'll never know."

"I could just lend you an album."

"Nope! The moment passed. Too late!"

Mary riffled through the stock and shoved a Jethro Tull CD into her hands.

She tapped it against her thigh.

"So, when do I get to hang?"

"I can get us into 80s night free."

"No, I mean, with your cooler friends. Your 'murder models', or whatever."

"You wanna hang out with the Deathbutantes?"

Amber scrunched her nose.

"That's so fucking pretentious."

Mary kind of liked it.

"Dunno if they're really your scene."

"Oh? And what's my scene?"

"Musical theater on crack."

She mock gasped at him, "Called out!" before smacking him with the CD. "Whatever. You love musical theater on crack."

Mary draped his arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah, I do. But I don't live it, you know? You guys have your niche—and fuck…I love to visit—but it's not mine."

Amber looked up at him, her expression serious.

"So the Dumbutantes are your niche?"

Mary shrugged and went back to shelving.

The Rocky crew had been good to him. They'd taken him under their wing, no questions asked, and helped him realize things about himself. Tim had taken him to the ER when Mary had come down with a serious case of the flu. Matty had taught him the basics of sewing. Gretchen had held him after a bad trip. Omar and he had had many drunken heart-to-hearts about their shitty home lives.

And Amber was his best friend. She'd been his #1 cheerleader for years and had never been afraid to call him out on his shit.

So yeah, he loved the Rocky crew…but they laughed at anyone who took anything too seriously. Mary would show up to game nights in his latest creation—with everyone else in pjs or jeans & hoodies—and they'd tease him about trying to impress the wrong people. He'd try to talk about the newest guitar god he'd been mainlining, and they'd make snoring noises at him.

How could he explain the kinship he felt with the Deathbutantes? That they were as serious about music as he was, that they just…got why he felt the need to dress the way he did to express the way he felt inside on his outside.

Instead, he said, "I'm just trying shit out, Ambs." He quirked his eyebrow at her. "I gotta do something while you guys do your real-person jobs."

(Amber had recently started as a junior marketing assistant at the American Repertory Theater. "Purely mercenary," she'd said. "Maybe it'll give me a leg up during auditions.")

She made a disgruntled scoffing noise in the back of her throat.

"Fuck, don't remind me. I actually gotta go to bed a reasonable hour now."

"Don't worry." Mary winked at her. "I'll keep ya honest."

"That sounds a lot like my head in a toilet, Mare."

"I'll hold your hair back."

She gave him a good-natured shove, and he pretended to cower.

If she wanted to cross pollinate, who was Mary to stand in her way? So, he invited her out the next time the Deathbutantes went to a show, and it went exactly like he thought it would.

They disliked her, and she was equally unimpressed. They thought she was too loud and frenetic, and she thought they had no sense of humor.

"I fucking told you," Mary had snorted as they sat on the curb sharing a clove.

"Shut the fuck up, Mare."

But she'd put her head on his shoulder.

"They make you happy, though. So I guess I approve. Just as long as I don't have to play nice."

Mary still hung out with the Rocky crew—there were still game nights and drug-fueled sex parties and theater games—but the Deathbutantes introduced him to the underground scene. They always seemed to have insider knowledge about the best up-in-coming bands and the secret shows. Theme nights at the goth clubs were always a must, and they rarely missed one. Sometimes, Angelique would crash, and they'd take the commuter rail to Providence to party at Club Hell before collapsing in a sweaty, smeary pile at a friend of a friend's hole in the wall.

As a bit player in the Rocky crew, Mary had been another made-up face in the crowd. As a certified member of the Deathbutantes, Mary became the face.

They all did.

The owners loved them because they bought round after round at the bar, and if word got out that the Deathbutantes were there, their admirers came to spend money as well. The employees loved them because they were fun and talked to them as equals. The clientele loved them because they were pretty young things.

Sometimes, though, Mary wasn't in the mood to party or get laid, so he talked to the DJs instead. He'd buy them rounds and stay past closing to help them pack up while they talked about the history of punk and 80s new wave and nu metal. There was one in particular, Dave, that Mary even considered a friend.

The two of them would sit in the club past closing, sharing a whiskey and talking about life while the bartenders closed down and cashed out. Occasionally, Dave's other friends would be around, and they'd all walk back to his place; he'd fool around spinning in his home studio, and they'd drink box wine as they danced and laughed before Mary would have to sit on the ground in an intoxicated exhaustion, good for only thumbing through Dave's vinyl collection.

Mary was just happy to talk shop with another music aficionado, but Angelique had pointed out that he should leverage his minor clout.

They'd been waiting for Greg to finish setting up, and Mary had been struggle city after a particularly hard night out. It was all he could manage to sit there quietly and hope some god would put him out of his misery.

"You need to get your shit together," Angelique had said out of nowhere.

Mary had cracked a puffy eye and had slowly (as to not bring the nothing in his stomach back up) turned his head to her.

"As if I haven't seen your melted ass on the floor wanting to die."

"Fuck, Mary. You've turned it into an art form."

He'd closed his eyes and given her the finger, but that hadn't stopped her.

"You wanna be a rockstar, boy? You can't just sit on your ass and hope the right person on the right night hears you. You're effervescent and charismatic—heads turn when you walk into a room and not just because of your skinny jeans—but you need more than air, Mary, which is all you are right now."

"Fuck you, Angela."

She'd clapped in front of his face, and she was lucky he didn't Exorcist bile all over her.

"You're a fucking pain in my ass, Goore. I'm doling out the good stuff, try not to bite my hand off, k?"

"All right, all right!"

"You wanna start that band? You wanna get play and amass fans? Well, make that demo you're always droning on about and give it to those DJs you're alway fanboying over. Fucking network, Goore."

At the time, Mary had been too hungover to care, but her advice would sink in…

Eventually.

For the time being, Mary was content. He loved the attention, and it made him feel invincible, made him feel like it was finally His Time. And he was going to make up for every slight, every unfair situation, and every beat down with sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll.

With his newfound nightlife, Mary's day job had become an afterthought. He started sleeping through opening shifts, but with the extra foot traffic Mary brought to the store, his boss seemed resigned to let Mary slide (after a stern talking to and a pay docking).

The shadow cast had started using him as a mascot of sorts, and he was happy to show up on Saturday nights and hype up the waiting line with a pseudo striptease. (Even if it was sometimes to kick off his evening with the Deathbutantes and not hang with the cast after.)

Mary started a band ("auditioning" any and all of the many admirers who said they’d be more than happy to join it), and after a few false starts and a couple of lineup changes, they began working on an EP. (At least, when Mary showed up to rehearsal, they did.)

A Boston Phoenix reporter got wind of the Deathbutantes and called around about doing a story on them. The Bens were excited about the exposure that meant for their zine, and Angelique and Greg were excited about what it could mean for their careers. Mary did a brief interview over the phone where he answered questions about his style and talked about his dream of making his band a household name.

Mary saw his name up in lights, and he was reaching for it, full speed ahead.

But then things turned.

The story fell through at the last minute with no further explanation or contact by the reporter.

His boss finally fired him after Mary showed up too high to function too many times—or not at all.

The shadow cast had a turnover, and suddenly he was old news—a cringey hanger-on.

A trip to the clinic and a round of antibiotics for an STI had him way more wary of who he hooked up with.

"Heroes" lost momentum when imitators popped up and Ben cut off the gravy train.

Angelique moved to NYC for "better opportunities," and the Bens took their brand of counterculture to Portland, OR.

Greg took down the website when he got offered a legit job as an apprentice at a food magazine, and that was that.

The physical zines were cheap things, most ending up papering the sidewalk after trash day or lining the bottom of cages. Without the online presence, did Mary's "modeling career" even exist?

Mary was a little sad to see the era go, but when he woke up in Maine on the hood of some girl's car and only a hazy recollection of how they'd gotten there, he was beginning to see Angelique's point. He needed to get his shit together if he was ever going to become a rockstar. And frankly, he kind of felt like he needed to spend an entire month eating carrots and hydrating.

The 24/7 party had always been an ephemeral thing; it had been sand passing through his hands in a finite amount as he'd tried to hold onto it

He put himself on detox, and waking up sober for the first time in months felt like a revelation. And as it turned out, playing the guitar without badly shaking hands was way, way easier.

He found another job in another music store, and his starter!band was bringing butts into the smaller venues, like Toad.

He still had his old Rocky friends and the Deathbutantes. The club and venue owners still let him in for free, and Dave was always happy to give his demos a spin. By anyone's else's measure, he was steal one of the scene's darlings.

But Mary was beginning to realize that he needed to stop seeing himself as that scared kid who’d arrived in Boston 4 years ago with only a backpack, $72.57 to his name, and void where his family should be.

He needed to stop finding people to please into loving him.

Instead, he needed to live for himself and let them love him for who he was—fuck ups and all.

@slimylayne

Epilogue

"Honestly, that’s probably the reason I even got a band together," he says. "I was still kind of shit at guitar, but people came to see ‘Model Mary’ perform in his underwear."

He shoots me a smirk.

"I’m sure there’re pictures out there of me looking more glam than metal. I kind of played up the whole pinup thing for a while."

"Fuck, I would kill, literally kill to see that."

He pulls me into his lap until I’m straddling him.

"I could open up my underwear drawer and show you right now."

"Goore, you temptress."

I lean down to kiss him, and his hands sneak under my shirt, but I pull away again.

"I kinda thought I knew all your torrid secrets by now. Shit, how come Dave's never needled you about it?"

After 2 years with him, I’m surprised I hadn't even heard a peep from his oldest friend.

Mary snorts.

"Dave would miss shit hanging off his nose. Great dude, amiable as fuck, but he's always had fucking tunnel vision for his music."

I smirk at him.

"Sounds like someone else I know."

Mary pulls a face at me, and I apply kisses to every line until he laughs and bats me away.

"But really, Mare—how come you never told me about your brief career in blue steel?"

He blows out a breath, his hands smoothing up my thighs.

"Fuck. Cuz maybe I was a little embarrassed at how off the rails I was then, ok? Didn't want you to know what I fuck up I was." He takes my hand and kisses my palm. "And even I know it's a shit move to pitch woo at someone by telling them about banging half of Boston."

I make a face at him, and he laughs.

"Yeah, that’s what I thought."

His hands rest on my waist.

"Christ, everything about that year's a bit fuzzy, and it was like 10 years ago. Sometimes it feels like it happened to someone else, honestly. And shit—most of those people aren’t even around anymore. College kids who moved on and 20-somethings that grew up and moved who knows where. I used to watch Amber have—what is it when it’s four people?—and now she lives in bumblefuck Pennsylvania with 3 kids. After she left, I just kinda drifted away from all that."

He shrugs, his eyes downcast.

"I’m sorry, Mare," I say as I smooth his eyebrows.

He shrugs again.

"I mean, we all kinda keep in touch. It's like the only reason I have Facebook."

"When was the last time you even signed into that?"

Mary grins at me.

"Lola's birthday."

"One of the models? What happened with them?"

Mary bites his lip and thinks.

"Mayhem found religion after an OD and kinda ghosted everyone. Lesley followed a girl to New Hampshire. Uh…Lola pursued a PhD for something sciencey involving renewable energy with sugar beets in Idaho, and Bryan moved back to Florida to care for his grandma, who raised him."

Mary leans his head back on the couch and rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"I mean, shit. We were fucking babies back then. Head empty except for a good time and unlimited potential."

I run my fingers through his hair.

"You miss it?"

His eyes pop open to look at me.

"Fuck no. Not for a million dollars. Too many question marks." His eyes glint as he runs his hands down me. "I like what I got going on right here."

I wrap my arms around his shoulders and kiss his forehead. The fucking sap.

Mary picks up my phone and scrolls through the pictures again.

"Fuck. I used to be goddamn adorable, though. Half this shit wouldn’t even fit me anymore."

I squish his little potbelly, and he grunts at me indignantly.

"Do you still have any originals?" I ask.

He shakes his head, his eyes wistful and his smile sad.

"Nah. Got destroyed when my roof collapsed and leaked everywhere. Fuck, landlords are useless. Glad we fucking own now, babe."

He scrolls up, scrolls back down.

"Just these four?"

I nod.

"Yeah. They were the only ones I found—and I did a lot of searching."

"Christ, I think there were at least 10."

I smile ruefully at him. "It’s not gonna be long anyway before they make their way into the popular tags and shit starts coming out of the woodwork."

He tosses my phone onto the table.

"Whatever. Just shows that I’ve always been cool."

And then he’s kissing me again, his hand tangling in my hair.

"You know, I’m your family now, Mare. Just for you."

He brings my hand up and kisses it.

"Fuck, I know that. Why’dja think I put a ring on it?"

#mary goore #longfic #gender neutral insert #aurelio voltaire

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madroxed · 5 years ago

Text

the order (season two) thoughts.

so chotoranii asked me for my thoughts on the order season two. of which there are many. posting them here rather than in a reply so tumblr doesn’t fuck up the ‘keep reading’ break.

SO MANY SPOILERS AHEAD, OBVIOUSLY.

OK FOLKS, LET’S DO THIS. SORRY ABOUT THE WORD COUNT.

the good, the bad, and the incomprehensible.

ok SO. overall i thought this season was so much better than season one, especially in terms of production and acting.

i should start by saying, the biggest twist of this season? ME LIKING JACK AS A BLOND. i’ve been dragging that hair for months and i end up digging it? i’m so mad at myself.

ANYWAY the first three episodes? flawless! beautiful! amazing! they honestly took everything i could have listed as wanting and put it onscreen. jack trying out for cheer squad and having to stay on cheer squad to keep up the act? them finding each other almost immediately? the jokes about orgies? jack taking the knights seriously and holding on to his anger over the memory wipe? lilith and nicole? nicole in general? RANDALL AND HAMISH FAKE DATING (however briefly, seriously, i will be writing fic where they have to keep that up because i am betrayed that it was never brought up again and if you think i didn’t throw my laptop across the bed so i could run around screaming you’d be wrong)? A MAGIC HEIST?

honestly, all perfect.

............then the season started to go downhill. don’t get me wrong, there were still some excellent parts, but they were hindered by two things:

the plot jumping about too much to be comprehensible.

the fact that we the viewers are supposed to believe that randall carpio and hamish duke would not tear the world apart for lilith bathory immediately.

the first is forgivable; the first season’s plot was a simple enough device that meant it dragged a little at times. this season they seemed to not want to fall into that trap again, but in doing so threw something so big in that they needed far too much exposition because they didn’t have enough time to show it (a trait they fell into in a lot of ways, we’ll get back to that). SHOW, DON’T TELL, FOLKS. that being said, i really liked salvadore as a character, and the idea of a group of people striving to make magic accessible to all was a cool moral quandary plot.

the second is unforgivable to me, and led to the majority of my issues with the season. i understand the knights becoming members of the order (cool concept), i understand them struggling with conflicting loyalties because of it, but what i don’t understand is the fact that randall spent the majority of the season saying “let’s get lilith back!” only to back down at the first push back, and hamish was the push back. because......the order had other problems. IN WHAT UNIVERSE DO THE KNIGHTS OF SAINT CHRISTOPHER NOT PUT EACH OTHER FIRST AND SAY FUCK EVERYONE ELSE?

(jack i understand, if only because we saw so much of it last season. his loyalties are kinda flaky. i do understand his loyalty to vera; not only did she play a huge part in taking down edward last season, but the mind link thing and learning all her pain would have stuck with him. he loves a cause, that boy. also hey ho! jack was so much more likeable this season! we love to see it.)

also i just really missed lilith.

(thank fuck for nicole never giving up.)

the amount of callbacks to season one were fantastic. they didn’t just move on and leave it be, they referenced basically everyone, and seeing professor clarke and kyle again was a nice touch just to tie things together. there also being discussions about jack’s pete related trauma was great and necessary.

ok, so alyssa. i take back my post about how great it would be for her to be the villain. this was so much better. her trauma in the wake of both season one and then accidentally killing someone leading to her feeling so conflicted and lost and alone? her magic malfunctioning when it’s all she feels she has? we’ve always known she was ambitious, but to see her face straight on the idea that she may be left completely powerless and no one really listening or trying to help her except a hive mind that’s also hurting her? o u c h.

we saw this season that the real problem with the order is its motto of ‘hurry up and wait’. ‘we’ll save lilith.....just do all these other things first!’ ‘we’ll get alyssa’s magic back......there’s just more important things right now!’ it’s all so easy to see how that could frustrate someone so much they can’t take it anymore.

i’m so pleased i loved alyssa so much this season. i desperately wanted to and i’m glad they gave me that. i just felt so much for her. she just wanted to not feel so alone and so helpless and so scared that she was going to pick the wrong side again. it was beautiful.

this also meant alyssa/jack was better this season. having got the insta-love out the way last season (ugh), this season they were able to actually look at how that would play out if you took ramifications into consideration. all the problems i had with them last season were vocalised onscreen, and this new unstable thing left in its place was far more appealing to watch. they were messy and bad for each other and they knew it, but that didn’t stop them loving each other.

also: “if we get out of this, can i take you to the mall? because i really hate your jean jacket. and your hair.”

in regards to the other relationships:

lilith and nicole were adorable for the limited amount of time we got them onscreen. the slow crush to nervous dating was beautiful, and seeing lilith struggle with what getting her memories back meant in regards to that was great. we all know i thought the lilith/randall of last season was rushed, so having lilith torn over hurting one of the most important people in her life and following these feelings for someone new was lovely. IF WE GET A SEASON THREE I BETTER GET SO MUCH MORE OF THEM.

here’s the thing, putting aside lilith/nicole for a moment: the order can’t write good relationships (*with one major caveat).

hear me out.

in season one it was insta-love. jack and alyssa meet and suddenly defending alyssa is the only thing that matters to jack. it....wasn’t good. randall and lilith were thrown together with very little build up and we were supposed to roll with it.

this season we had both hamish/vera and randall/gabrielle. i would like to say that theoretically i am here for both of these. but.

hamish/vera occurred off screen. oh, sure, we had a couple scenes of them staring at each other over drinks, but that was all we got until late into the season. we were told that hamish and vera were a thing by randall when he was winding hamish up. we didn’t see it for ourselves. again, this show’s habit of telling not showing is a problem.

hamish and vera could make sense. two leaders of opposing factions having sort of hate, begrudging respect sex? i see it. from there, you can show us how it would become something more.

the show doesn’t.

we’re told they’re together. we’re told hamish is forsaking his knightly duties in favour of vera. we’re told by hamish that he’s drunk the order koolaid,

and all of this is supposed to culminate in us believing that hamish duke - tundra, leader of the knights of saint christopher, the most cunning of the wolves - would push aside everything else because he just believes that much in vera stone? to the point that he would all but abandon lilith and degrade his relationship with randall to randall being the annoying sidekick?

i woke up at two a.m. to write a note on my phone that says: ‘the greatest tragedy of the order season two is hamish duke’s character assassination.’ and i stand by that.

besides lilith’s absence for almost the whole season, it’s the thing i’m most mad about. i love hamish so much and to one-dimensionalise him in favour of a ship is...............shoddy work honestly.

so like i said. HAMISH/VERA COULD HAVE BEEN GOOD, BUT FOR FUCKSAKE SHOW, YOU HAVE TO ACTUALLY DEVELOP THIS SHIT.

randall/gabrielle was better developed. by which i mean we actually saw them interacting on screen. we got to see them begrudgingly working together, we saw him learn more about her, we heard them talk about her need to fit in somewhere. when they made the joke about being bffs? good stuff. would i like them to slowburn this shit? yes please. have them become best friends and then have those feelings be something else. i would really like that. the show just needs to.......slow down. not immediately see a single character and need to throw them into a relationship with the nearest person.

gabrielle was great this season. by which i mean, she was gabrielle, and we love some consistent characterisation. i think it’s so true to everything we know about her that she’d want to inject herself into the knights’ world; she wants to be part of the in-crowd, and right now that’s them. she’s also supremely jealous of alyssa because, to her, it seemed like alyssa had the best of both worlds. so, yes, her wanting to be around the knights and that developing into her begrudgingly liking them makes a lot of sense to me.

so, my caveat.

the relationship the order knows how to write? the knights. hamish, randall, lilith, and jack. that dynamic saved season one from being a total mess. that dynamic thrived in the early episodes of this season. IT’S JUST THAT GOOD. i said once that if the order just became greek (2007) but with werewolves i’d be happy, and the first three episodes really gave me that.

THE KNIGHTS ARE EACH OTHER’S SOULMATES, ASK ME HOW.

is this an excuse for me to complain that they gave us a hint of hamish/randall and then cruelly snatched it away and i’m still mad about it? YOU BETCHA.

is this also my way of saying there wasn’t nearly enough jack/randall this season? YOU BETCHA.

removing lilith from the equation (I’M STILL SO MAD) and then having hamish pull away from randall because..........who the fuck knows, was just a recipe for disaster.

clearly lilith is the glue that holds these idiots together.

so, vera. katherine isabelle still just steals every scene she’s in. i love her. i love vera’s characterisation. i love that she’s shamelessly ambitious but also wants the order to succeed and the world not to end. i love that she can be cold and cruel and still have such soft spots for both jack and alyssa. i love that she can be vulnerable and angry about it. i just........think vera’s pretty fucking great, tbh.

i still don’t understand why the knights - after their infiltration revenge plans go tits up - decide to just go full on order. like??????? hamish and jack barely even questioning anything???? randall must have spent most of this season feeling so alone.

that being said, when jack said to nicole and randall that he knew what they needed to get lilith back and the conversation pretty much went:

jack: you’re okay betraying the order?

nicole: for lilith, anything.

randall: i’d literally betray the order for a cookie, haven’t you been listening?

we love to see it.

OH, HEY GUYS, REMEMBER WHEN IAN ZIERING AND JASON PRIESTLEY WERE MEMBERS OF THE ORDER AND JASON PRIESTLEY BECAME GRAND MAGUS FOR A HOT SECOND???? that was written solely for me. i do not know who this show thinks its audience is, but it understands me to my core.

so...............i have zero clue where the show intends to go from here. i just need alyssa to be ok and i hope - like his friend randall - jack is willing to kill whoever the hell he has to to make that happen. (we stan randall straight up murdering someone to get lilith back and making sure nicole remains innocent and safe tbh.)

SO TL;DR: the early episodes gave me life. the show declined from there, but i still enjoyed it a lot. the order is at its best when the knights are a team, i loved alyssa’s story this season, and i have no clue what to expect from next season (if we get one). werewolf alyssa? villain jack, perhaps? we’ll see!

THIS POST PROBABLY SEEMS TOO NEGATIVE BUT HI! I STILL LOVED THIS SEASON A LOT AND I LOVE MY KIDS WITH MY WHOLE HEART AND IF YOU READ ALL A MILLION WORDS OF THIS THEN I LOVE YOU TOO.

also if anyone has any hamish/randall prompts i’ll be hanging out over here crying into my hands for the next few weeks. FAKE DATING. how dare they?!

#the order #the order spoilers #the order netflix #THIS IS.....TOO LONG I'M SORRY #i love this show so much????#but it's also a mess?????#basically my brand lbh

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punkscowardschampions · 4 years ago

Text

Libi & Bobby

Libi: I’ve just found my phone in the sea of costumes

Libi: How so many people need alterations and mending at this point 😱😱😰

Libi: I’ve got a… well, it’s not weird

Libi: but it is, but that’s not really the right word to describe it but I can’t think of said word so it’ll have to do

Bobby: Hang on, forget the play a sec

Bobby: What’s this message? 🤨

Bobby: is it the sender or what they said that’s making it feel weird?

Libi: That’s practically blasphemy Bobs! 😏 Mullans will have you helping Tom with his lines for that, poor boy… we’re all officially off book this week and he is not a little bit ready

Libi: Um, both?

Libi: I mean it’s Louie, so it’s not that weird he’d message me, I guess

Libi: We have messaged back and forth a bit, obviously, it isn’t totally random

Bobby: Sir would have to reckon I’m capable of something first, that’s a subject change though

Bobby: go on, what’s the but? What’s Louie said?

Libi: I was going on the assumption he’d forget you were deaf altogether and act like you’ll be able to hear Tom

Libi: He is quite loud in his delivery but still

Libi: 🙄

Libi: At least we have Ms Howe backing up all our other ideas

Libi: I think he’s asked me out on a date

Libi: Well I know because he said did I want to go to the cinema, to see that latest adaptation of Orient Express, and I thought he meant did we ALL wanna go so he corrected me when I started planning as such… which was awkward

Bobby: Mullan does dress a bit like you did when we met,‘course it doesn’t look as cute on him, but makes sense he’d also rob your 🔊 by chucking Tom at me

Bobby: well alright, awkward is the right word there, are you still gonna go?

Libi: I don’t know who that’s more insulting to 😂 shocking behaviour

Libi: I can’t really process it, I don’t know

Libi: Should I?

Bobby: Depends if he’s okay with you just going as mates

Bobby: he might be too 💔 and that’ll make it more awkward

Libi: It’d make the play really awkward

Libi: I’ve already put my foot in it with thinking it was a cast and crew thing

Libi: I can’t very well be like IS THIS AS FRIENDS as well, can I?

Bobby: 🤔 I dunno if there’s a way it wouldn’t be a 🤏 now but saying no and not making it obvious you still wanna be mates could mess up the play even more, you have gotta kiss, it’d probably be better if he don’t 💭 you think he’s gross or whatever

Libi: Right, maybe it sounds silly but I really do not want to jeopardise the play in any way, not at this stage

Libi: I really want it to go well for all of us, we’ve all put way too much work in for something like that to spoil it

Libi: I couldn’t just go, could I?

Libi: Not qualify it either way

Bobby: It’s not silly, everyone knows how invested you are, you’ve worked harder than any of us

Bobby: but you don’t owe the play going that far

Bobby: what are you gonna do, fake date him til after it’s over? Come on, Libs

Bobby: he must like you for real, one date would lead to him asking you out on another

Libi: I don’t think Jan would ever speak to me again if I stole the bit for such a pathetic reason

Libi: she’d judge me hardcore anyway and can’t have that

Libi: You’re right, I’ll have to let him down gently then

Libi: Whatever that sounds like…

Bobby: I know our lil 👰🤵 wasn’t legally binding but I’d rather you didn’t either

Bobby: I’d still be 💔

Bobby: for you, I mean

Bobby: Louie’s a bit

Libi: Is he?

Libi: I don’t really know him outside of the context of this play

Libi: like I didn’t know him before, I mean, obviously I’ve spoken to him as him now, a bit

Bobby: obviously I've had even less to do with him than you, but I've noticed when you're speaking to him as him you're not 😁

Bobby: even the 1 cinema trip might be asking a bit much of how 😇 you are

Libi: How much of an 😇 can I really be if I’m all 😒 😞 😔 😟 😕 🙁 ☹️ 😣 😖 😫 😩 🥺 😢 😭 😤 😠 😡 apparently

Libi: He’s a nice guy, I don’t know why I don’t want to date him

Bobby: In his pov or mine?

Bobby: I’d say your reaction is loads better than being unbothered, that’d make you really 😈

Bobby: anyway being a nice lad he’ll understand and it probably won’t be long before someone else does wanna go out with him

Bobby: you can’t force or properly fake 💘

Libi: He’s probably going to ask someone else, you’re right

Libi: it’s not a big deal

Libi: I could say you really wanna see it too, that would work

Bobby: It can’t be a massive deal, he hasn’t known you THAT long, not before the play, like you said

Libi: Totally

Libi: it’s not like he’s 💘 or anything, just interested

Bobby: Yeah, he’ll be alright and so will the play

Libi: Thanks, Bobby

Libi: even if I still need to think of what to message back

Bobby: Just be as honest as you can handle without 😳

Bobby: lying isn’t a top skill of yours and you don’t want him to work out you are

Libi: I can’t argue with you even if I feel I should

Libi: I’ll try my best

Libi: I might leave it for a 🤏 bit

Bobby: can’t fault you for it, and I won’t need to ‘cause it’ll be okay

Libi: A woman’s prerogative, so I hear

Bobby: deffo can’t argue with that, it’d have me coming across like a nice guy ™️ ❌👏

Libi: 😬 it isn’t lost on me that I friendzone Louie’s character in the harshest way by being a murderess

Libi: I won’t bring that up though, hopefully he won’t be thinking it

Libi: 🩸👠 isn’t an association I’d love to bring into my everyday

Bobby: I’m more 🤞 Mr Mullan doesn’t hear about art imitating life ‘cause you’ll never hear the end of it

Libi: Oh no

Libi: he’s so…

Libi: he’s a lot

Bobby: See, an 😇 way of putting it 😏

Libi: I can see why China and him get along, is a less polite way

Libi: but as true

Libi: she’d much prefer femme fatale over hysterical American

Bobby: It won’t kill her not to get her own way for once

Libi: It might drive poor America insane

Libi: How are her and Sean now?

Libi: I cannot believe I managed to put my foot in it like that, I felt awful but she wouldn’t hear it and if I tried to apologize to him he’d have thought I was meddling more than he probably already reckoned

Bobby: 💰 on her mates going insane 1st how often she must stay with some of them

Bobby: not that I blame her for not going home and you shouldn't blame yourself for anything that happens between her and Sean, he knows what she's like and what's been going on

Bobby: I guess they've sorted it? I dunno, have to go off their insta stories more than whatever he'd actually admit

Libi: I have been wondering about that

Libi: if I should more officially ask my grandparents/offer her the spare room

Libi: or if that’ll be insulting, or they might say we shouldn’t put ourselves into people’s family affairs

Libi: glad it’s not just me 😅 again, they’re hardly the only on-again-off-again couple around that I find totally perplexing so it’s no dig

Bobby: 🤔 I was 💭 the same but I wasn't sure if it'd be weird coming from me as a lad, especially if they're off again when I make the offer

Bobby: I reckon it's a good idea though if you're allowed to

Libi: I don’t think she’d take it that way but emphasis on the I part, I see how she could and why you’d be hesitant

Libi: I think the best way is to ask her first, if she would want me to then ask my grandparents… the potential disappointment if they say no is better than me doing the wrong thing and making it worse, right?

Bobby: Her sister has told me that lads and girls can't be mates so she would probably have loads to say which we can all do without

Bobby: 👍 getting your grandparents involved more than you need to when you don't need to isn't a 🥇💡 you're totally right

Libi: She would think that 🙄

Libi: guess it makes her feel better that Jake doesn’t want to be her friend

Libi: Cool, that’s the plan of attack there then, an easier message to send for sure

Bobby: 💔 Jake doesn’t know about Louie asking you out, it might’ve got him to back off 🤏

Libi: Or get him to do the same

Libi: Wow, that sounded really conceited 😲😅

Libi: You know what I mean though, more that he’s that type of lad than I’m that much of a catch

Bobby: you can still be a catch even though he's a dickhead but hey

Bobby: least if he does ask you you've already practiced a rejection text, type of lad he is isn't gonna take a no as easy 😬

Libi: Don’t jinx me!

Libi: He’d probably just send me a bootycall and expect me to jump, right? Ick

Libi: You don’t behave like that, do you Bobs?

Bobby: 😲❗️ can’t believe you’d ask me that Libs

Libi: Come on, you’re my only insight into what boys are like

Libi: it seems pretty par for the course, maybe not Jake levels of extreme but

Bobby: Soz I’ve got no insight into bootycalls

Libi: Okay

Libi: I’m not mad about that

Libi: that’d be a LOT to process about you rn

Bobby: I’ve got no secrets I’m keeping from you, especially not 💘🔐

Libi: 😊💚💜

Libi: Lucie has turned out to be less cute than I thought

Libi: IMO anyway

Bobby: what’s she said or done that you’ve not told me about?

Libi: Nothing compared to China, so nothing

Libi: I can see how they were friends though, before they dramatically weren’t

Libi: I wonder who Jake will choose, if he ever does

Bobby: I think he likes not choosing and keeping everyone dramatically in suspense 🙄

Libi: Begrudgingly admit he’s suited to his role in that respect

Libi: he’ll fall for someone totally out of left-field and leave both of them in the dust

Libi: if romcoms have taught us anything

Bobby: If it’s gonna be Am I better warn Sean

Libi: She hates him

Libi: which in certain stories WOULD make him 😍

Libi: but I can’t see it

Bobby: exactly it’s the plot twist everyone saw coming and the most obvious trope going, but thankfully we don’t live in a romcom

Libi: it does all feel a bit romcom rn, I think that must be what inspired Louie

Libi: not my preferred genre, tbh

Bobby: I’m alright with swapping Orient Express for whatever horror is playing, doubt he’ll be in another row of that screen waiting to spy on you

Libi: If anyone’s destined to be the stalker, right?

Libi: we better go, he’s not done anything wrong

Bobby: 📌📅 for when? How keen was he?

Libi: [Probably this weekend from whichever day he’s asked because keen is the vibe, sorry Louie]

Bobby: 👌😂

Libi: don’t be mean 😫😅

Libi: plenty of girls would be happy to go out with him

Bobby: Yeah and I’m not running him down to any of them, or you even really, I already told you I think he’s a bit

Bobby: 🤓🥀

Bobby: He gestures A LOT, is he one of those OTT doing shakespeare in the theatre type actors or what?

Libi: I guess the role is pretty...campy

Libi: I can see what he’s going for even if I’d suggest toning it down 🤏

Libi: It’s a good thing you aren’t slagging him off to the girls, he’d not stand a chance then

Bobby: Who am I that they'd be bothered what I think? Not ever asked or been asked, me

Bobby: and everyone knows the butler has always got a massive agenda anyway

Libi: Lots of girls think you’re cute though

Bobby: 😳

Libi: What? I can’t tell you you’re handsome

Libi: and that girls have obviously noticed that

Bobby: I guess 'cause I don't 👀 it I don't 💭 about it, I dunno but it's 😳

Libi: I get it

Libi: it IS weird when other people say it

Libi: @ Louie @ Jake

Libi: it’s not like when family say it but you know they have to say it, even if they mean it… 🤔 first and foremost it’s ‘cos they 💘 you

Libi: Saying we’ll get used to it sounds very big-headed but I guess it won’t freak us out as much from now on

Libi: 🤞

Bobby: I'm not sure there's a proper way for me not to get freaked out when other people notice me, even if it is only with their 👀 'cause I still forget I exist to them most of the time 🤷‍♂️

Bobby: but obviously the play was just the start for you, loads of lads are gonna wanna be more than mates with you everywhere you go, soon as they realise how great you are, so yeah, I better get used to that

Bobby: 🤞🤞 I find stuff to 📌📅 when you're on all these dates

Libi: Of course you exist to them! The school is just too bloody lazy to actually make it so more students can acknowledge and actually converse with you like everyone else 😤

Libi: though acting like they’re the issue when it’s actually the world at large is not helpful of me at all

Libi: Ha! I’ll still be sharing a stage with the likes of Lucie, I think the majority of the male population will find other places to look, Bobs 😏

Libi: Anyway, I’ll soon lose any points if I brush enough of them off like poor Louie 😕

Bobby: Alright, maybe I’m not fully 👥 but nobody knows me well enough for 💘

Bobby: and anyone who prefers Lucie knows literally nothing

Bobby: you’d score all ✔️ in everything that makes people 😁 and 😍 you’re not losing any points for Louie or Jake, don’t even worry

Libi: Yet

Libi: Pretty sure that’s the point of dating

Libi: not that I’m an expert on the subject 😅

Libi: you’re sweet

Bobby: You know what I mean, unless it’s a blind date you usually already know each other a bit, enough to be interested anyway

Bobby: nobody’s there yet

Libi: You want to start looking?

Libi: Lots of girls still like the boy to initiate, old-fashioned but works in our favour

Bobby: not my prefered genre either, it’s okay

Libi: 👍

Libi: We could go see the horror after, I’ve checked the times

Bobby: long as your nan doesn’t mind me keeping you out that late, I’m cool with it

Libi: She wouldn’t hold back telling you if she did by now

Bobby: True

Bobby: but don’t mention to Louie what a lucky escape he’s had there or he’ll fancy himself as Romeo next

Libi: Thank GOD we’re not attempting Shakespeare… what Lady Macbeth and the young lovers might inspire in everyone isn’t something I’m ready to find out yet

Bobby: he does put a silent character in most of his plays though, that’d make sir’s job of casting me well easy

Libi: let’s not make his job any easier

Libi: his creative ‘vision’ (as he puts it, I would never) is lacking in well, any creativity

Libi: casting potential included, of course

Libi: I think we’ve all made the best of though, don’t you?

Bobby: What you’re saying is, where’s the blind-deaf solidarity if he’s gonna keep his 👀 shut the whole time 😏

Bobby: *you’ve made it loads better than it should be and deserve all the credit he’ll lap up on opening night

Bobby: that’s what I think

Libi: It definitely wasn’t a one-woman mission

Libi: you’ve done loads, for example

Libi: we’ll have our own afterparty of sorts, and he won’t be invited to make a speech 😏🙌

Bobby: Only props which anyone who takes art could’ve done but I’m not gonna say no to a 🥳

Bobby: is Louie invited?

Libi: I think everyone but the teachers will have to at least be offered an invite

Libi: wrap parties are tradition… I think 🤔😋

Bobby: what about China and Jake?

Libi: Yeah, them too…

Libi: In American films they go to diners, we could do an equivalent, not necessarily a party party

Libi: so we don’t look like we’re ‘taking over’ or whatever

Bobby: Let’s go to [somewhere that has an american diner vibe because I’m sure there is] they have the best 🍨

Libi: Yes! 💡

Libi: Who can be 😠😒🙄 at sundaes?

Bobby: J and J weren’t and they always were back then

Libi: Exactly

Libi: If they can manage to crack a smile, like

Libi: I won’t be heartbroken if certain people don’t want to do it but not going to be accused of any more cliquey-ness

Bobby: me either but I’d be 😁 if we were the only ones there

Bobby: which is why I’ll never be the main character of anything but a really low budget indie

Libi: I find socializing exhausting so I can only imagine how much more you do

Libi: Much easier staying kids and not being expected to do anything we didn’t 100% want to, yeah

Bobby: yeah

Bobby: have they done Peter Pan before? Be more fun than shakespeare

Libi: Not that I know of

Libi: we should ask Ms Howe

Bobby: Alright, but I won’t mention to her how I reckon Jake and Louie could fight it out for who’s gonna be the 🐊⏰ depending which one’s the fastest at taking your hints you’re not interested once this play’s over

Bobby: Or that China’ll have to be 🧚 if you’re Wendy

Libi: Ugh, don’t! She’d LOVE the outfit, if she could convince Mullan to let her wear it… 🙄

Libi: I’d cast her as Nana for the shade of it all, as I’m such a bitch don’t you know, but she’s far too lovely a dog to warrant such a miscast 😏

Bobby: Mr Mullan will probably wanna cast me when he realises it’s not a talking 🐶 she’d have a fight on her hands again 😏

Libi: I think you’d look excellent in a bonnet 🤭

Bobby: I’d rather be the lil brother with the 🧸 be a good luck charm and a weapon against dickheads if needed

Bobby: he’s too young to say much anyway if I remember right

Libi: You’d get to wear pajamas for the whole first act too 👍

Libi: Again, not to sound like a broken record about it, making Peter deaf could be really interesting and make the plot even more heightened

Libi: There’s lots of things he doesn’t understand about real life and real people because he’s immortal, if there’s that added communication barrier between him and the lost boys, it makes the way he is even more logical, in its way, it’s a easy, perhaps a little cliche way, to show he isn’t an ordinary boy

Libi: Not to mention the relationship he and Wendy manage to forge despite this would break the audiences hearts even more when they inevitably lose it

Libi: Clearly, I’ll have to write this persuasive essay for Sir before the next play is decided 😅

Bobby: 😲

Bobby: that’s SUCH a 🥇💡

Bobby: now I’m actually speechless

Libi: I’m pretty proud of that one, ngl

Libi: need to expand the 💭 but it’s got legs, right

Libi: I thought our last idea did but there’s less wriggling out of this, it being a fantasy and all

Bobby: Like you said, we’ll go to Ms Howe, convince her and let her worry about dealing with him, I’ll help you, transition year is a massive faff Jim was right

Libi: Is it nice to have the break though? After your exams last year

Bobby: 🤏 work experience is the best bit by far though and I don’t get many breaks there

Bobby: gonna have to start going 🛌 proper early like I’m 👴

Libi: ⏲ if you mean it

Bobby: 💔 but yeah

Libi: 💔 is easier to deal with than 🥱 in the morning

Bobby: Dunno about that, maybe when it’s Louie on the receiving end of the 💔 and you’re 🥱 of his 😍

Libi: Shh, don’t remind me

Libi: dreading this reply more than my homework

Bobby: [knows her well enough that he writes the kind of reply he knows she would send and it doesn’t even sound like a pisstake]

Bobby: ✔️

Libi: See, you’re a natural actor

Libi: that was a little TOO convincing, if anything

Libi: but I’m not in a position to turn down help 🙏🙌

Bobby: Not if you want me to come round and help with your homework before the ⏲ runs out and all

Libi: 😘

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5sosbitchfest · 5 years ago

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Alrighty, Nonsters. We currently have 290 Asks in our box! As much as we might try, I know there is NO WAY we’re going to be able to get through all of them. Everything exploded this weekend when MessyGate went down! I don’t want to ignore any asks just because I already answered a similar one. So, I’ve tried to gather as many similar Asks as possible to let your your voices be heard. Y’all are definitely NOT alone in your feelings. Get ready for a lot of opinions on Messy’s Twitter Drama.

Also, if you sent in an Ask and we haven’t answered it yet, please feel free to resubmit it! I do try to scroll through all of them but it is a daunting task and personal stuff and work make it difficult for me to get through everything in a timely manner!

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Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I’m really disappointed in Luke and this band in general, the way they deal with things. “honest policy” with messy? So he knew all of this and it was okay? Or he confronted her on this and he is okay with what she has done? I’m not sure this whole thing would be a deal breaker for me, but it certainly would make me real mad at my SO and some whiny excuses wouldn’t be enough to make things alright. Radio silence would’ve been much better than that story he posted, made himself look like a fool.

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: These girls will sooner or later become their downfall if their management or them does not realise they should rely on other things than bringing relationship up front to sell their music. I find it extremely bad that they are behaving as if nothing happened, I hope there will be changes once touring will be possible again and we won’t see these girls tagging along everywhere or being brought up in interviews all the time but somehow I’m not counting too much on that.

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I wonder if Luke knows everything that Messy got exposed for or just the parts Messy wanted to show him. Bc Luke said in his Story that he wasn't online lately so maybe he wasn't on Twitter too and Messy just showed him the parts that make her look good and he still doesn't know that she spoke bad about Ashton or how she stalked the fans also after she knew that they didn't hack his email adress cause he wasn't on Twitter so he couldn't see the screenshots.🤷‍♀️

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I'm just waiting for the day one of them date someone who isn't a part of their circle. tired of them passing around the same toxic girls.

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: These girls are just digging a whole for these guys and they want be able to get out of it soon

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: It was a chicken move for Sierra to do it as a reply and no one has talked on twitter that she deleted it because they probably think her deleting it is saying it wasn’t true

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: Am I the only one who thinks that guys really only heavily interact with us when they want to promote something or say something about the music? I do understand they have lives so being on Twitter isn't number one priority and with all the drama that surrounds this fandom its very easy to not want to be online a lot, I just can't help but feel that way

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I'm talking about this messy situation (no pun intended) with my friend and she said to me that Messy should consider changing her career if she can't handle that not all people are going to like her. (that ofc doesn't include any form of harassment bc that's not cool)

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I really don't know how to feel about the Luke situation. At first I was upset and disappointed of Luke but now I almost pity him bc real or not either the management would want Luke to defend her or Messy. And I think Luke isn't the kind of person who would stand up against the management or Messy (even though it would probably be better for him if he would). And most people don't realise when they're in a toxic relationship so I can't really blame him. I just hope this ends asap.

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I literally was so angry and frustrated with Luke and this whole situation yesterday that I couldn’t even look at him on my home screen, I had to change it. It’s really a disappointing thing to witness. Whether management put him up to this or he genuinely believes this toxicity is okay, I’m just very grumpy with him at the moment. He deserves better and WE (the fans) deserve better.

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I think Luke really needs to be in a relationship with sb who either isn't famous and doesn't want to be or with someone who is famous bc they have a successful career too and who doesn't need Like to be famous.

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I’ve only seen a few accounts on Twitter who are attacking Messy and Crusty to the core and exposing every bad thing they’ve done with receipts for the sossies defending them! I’m happy that karma is finally getting to those con artist who think they can get away with anything

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: that recent lierra picture is photoshoped lmao. if you look at Sierra's hand you can see color coming off from it and her arm looks hella weird.her forehead looks hella weird and look couldn't have taken the picture because I doubt that he could stretch his arm that far and make a perfect picture. also we haven't even seen Sierra's face so I still don't believe they're together

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: The Lemon pic was like a punch in the face (even though Petunia and Luke are looking cute there). But I've been asking myself lately if Luke has seen the whole drama going around on Twitter or just the posts Messy wanted him to know so the ones who make her look like the victim (and not the ones where she insulted Ashton or she made it clear that she stalked his fans). Cause Luke said he hasn't been online lately.

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I mean we dont know how much of the story he truly is aware of and how much s changed to fit her narrative and get L to feel bad for her. Plus he was under pressure from management to do damage control and not standing up for his gf is a very bad look for outsiders who dont understand why she's at fault. It was a pretty neutral statement and he was obviously told to make the post so I dont blame him and just blame her more for putting him in the situation in the 1st place

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I wonder how much toxicity happens behind the scenes, we know S is very manipulative and L is very much a people pleaser so.. and with how much they have to sell their "love" and "happiness" in the relationship. Minipulation is a powerful thing and it could explain why hes out of touch with reality, especially lately since he's isolated with her and doesnt have the voices of the band to raise any concerns and he's been getting skinny again and seems very "meh" rather than happy, idk

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I feel so disconnected with this fandom rn. I feel like no one is streaming CALM and that makes me sad bc it's such an amazing album. The boys aren't even online anymore, everyone is mad at each other and now Luke comes up with this shit... tbh I wish I would wake up tomorrow and see him tweeting something like yeah I'm sorry about my ig story I still love y'all lmao

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: Wait wait wait wait ive been gone from the fandom for a little while now and what the fuck is going on with Luke and S? What did S do that she made a fake ass apology for?? I’m so lost please help me! 😂

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I'm seeing a lot of my mutuals unstanning and I'm just so mad bc Sierra started this drama and got Luke into it and I'm sad that people are leaving bc of this, it's just too much toxicity and it shouldn't affect the band and their connection with the fans but with Luke saying this he makes it seem like he supports the ugly things she does

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I am a Luke stan and I've always loved him bc he has inspired me so much through the years but when he does this things it's like...damn. I feel like he's invalidating the fans' feelings by being like "if you don't like my girlfriend, ur fake" like he has never noticed me on Twitter or anything but my biggest fear is to be blocked by him or just ignored bc I don't like her (although I never expressed it publicly) n yeah anyways :// It feels weird

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: Going back and re-reading the DM’s messy literally confirms that she accesses Luke’s account by saying “we couldn’t get in” or some shit like that

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I hate being a luke stan, sometimes it just seems like he doesn't care? he always puts these toxic gfs before the ones who adore him and pay his bills. might just move into Cashton's lane. unproblematic kings.

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: He literally posted a picture of him cuddling her and petunia within the hour

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: The saddest part of this situation is it’s like a repeat of Arzaylea. Luke has no idea what a respectful, mature relationship is. We saw it with Arz and were seeing it again it’s just a little bit different. He stays being controlled and manipulated by toxic partners. I really think homeboy needs to be single for a WHILE and focus on himself. He needs to unlearn the things his past and current relationships have taught him about love because if I know anything, it’s that this ain’t real love.

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: Is it bad that I just want the larzaylea drama back?? Like everyone could at least agree on their feelings then...

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: Just checked messy’s insta and of course, everyone that still supports her filled her tagged with just the single picture

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I feel like the reason Sierra is getting away with what she’s done is because she isn’t that known. Like yeah she’s associated with 5sos, but they’re also like not that big which is probably why it’s getting swept under the rug. I’ve only seen the 5SOS fandom calling her out for her actions. If this had happened with a well known celebrity, they probably would’ve been dragged and been trending on Twitter. I might be wrong but I feel like this is what’s happening which is just unfair.

#kirby #luke #lemon #messy #messygate #messy's twitter drama

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elizabeatrice · 5 years ago

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Sumire: In Summary (Chapter 66)

Let’s Talk About JSHK Manga #2

Warning: !!!Manga spoilers up to chapter 66!!! Duh.

These are my initial thoughts. I’m warning you, they may not be entirely coherent. I wrote this when Eng scanlations weren’t out yet, so I used @etoile_atelier’s Eng summary that they posted on their Insta Story. I’ll update with the scanlations later.

Sorry not sorry for the awful title I’m just punny like that okay.

Summary: Chapter commentary + theories on: Sumire’s relations to Aoi, Sumire and Tsukasa’s seals, and is Sumire and Shinigami a cautionary tale for Hanako and Nene?

First, chapter recap.

Having no expectations at all amplified my emotional reactions to this chapter like 1000%

THE COLORED PAGE. REALLY? REALLY. ANOTHER SUPERNATURAL/HUMAN PAIR?

IT ONLY TOOK FOUR PANELS. FOUR (4)! (Oh, the number of death ... makes sense)

I can’t. I can’t deal. I’m not supposed to sympathize with Goat Man yet.

I mean we’re only four panels into his story smh

Okay so we’re back with Hanako and Nene! And they’re ... somewhere.

And they came across villagers who call them monsters (mononokes)

Honestly why are people so rude to my boy he’s a kiddo trying his best mkay and now ya’ll’re capturing him, the nerve! Y’all captured my daughter in law as well, who’s a literal angel! I will call your mothers about this unacceptable behavior, random villagers.

*ding* [A wild new character appears!]

Ghost girl finally reappears! And yet again, I must ask,

“What is your deal, bruh?”

Sumire took them in, treating them like miserable strays in desperate need of help

And Sumire said something along the lines of taking in the mononokes like she always does

Lmao when these two dumbasses tryna escape

At the very least, Hanako and Nene are trapped somewhere comfortable. And without creepy bugs.

Sumire is so much like Aoi I-???

‘Kay they must be related somehow, right? (More on that later below)

So ... is it official? Are we serving tanuki nabe in hananene events now?

Hanako is even more careful than usual and I gotta say, I’m following his footsteps.

Before I got my stylus out and started translating stuffs, I was so worried when I saw the panels focused on Hakujoudai.

I care about Hakujoudai more than I thought, guys. What a revelation.

Domestic hananene, finally some good freaking food tea.

Darn Hanako spilled the tea (literally, and figuratively)

So they’re not in the Far Shore ... I feel like I was lied to. Why would you lie to your own minions (and us), Shinigami?!

Unless them landing wherever this is wasn’t intentional.

Man, I was excited to see the Far Shore too.

Hanako said they’re still in Shinigami’s boundary, and the place is water-less because they’re in some sort of made up world inside his boundary (that may or may not be based on his memories)

I think it actually is based on his memories, because the first page’s introductory sentence included something along the lines of, “Seven Mysteries’ No. 6′s memories”

So yeah it’s like a mini theater, presumably made by Shinigami so that his boss and his boss’ kannagi couldn’t interfere with his plans. Maybe.

I know the tea might be drugged by Sumire/Shinigami or whatever but-

Your wife helped make that tea, Yugi Amane, show some appreciation!

She looked sad about the tea, too, oh you precious child

Hanako’s sulky, distrustful face tho lmao

Boy was all serious like, “I’ll protect this girl with my afterlife”

Then ZAP *obligatory “Hanako you pervert” comment*

Hanako: Go in there save Yashiro go in there save Yashiro and maybe take a lil peek-

Also Hanako: She’ll hate me.

Hanako: Fuck.

Sumire: Aren’t you two lovers?

Nene: NO.

Sumire:

Nene: ////// D-do we actually look like lovers?

Sumire:

Sumire: Gurl-

*TV beep*

AidaIro: Imma just drop the bomb of the month here~

Sumire: I’m (probably) a yorishiro!

*roll credits*

*cue me screaming*

Sumire? Aoi?

Option A

Aoi and Sumire come from the same bloodline, Sumire’s her ancestor.

Option B

Aoi is Sumire’s reincarnation. So, that means the Sumire we’re seeing isn’t the real Sumire, regardless whether she was made especially for this ‘made up lil’ world inside the boundary’ or the real yorishiro.

Though, would Shinigami actually put his yorishiro somewhere Hanako and Nene could find and destroy her so easily? Suspicious.

So yeah this Sumire, if she really is the real yorishiro, must be a memory apparition like Mitsuba 2.0

White on Black, Red on Black

Now the moment this girl revealed her seal I knew the fandom would point a finger and unanimously scream, Tsukasa!

But ... then again, there’s the matter of different colors between Tsukasa’s seal and the yorishiro seals we’ve seen so far

What if object-yorishiro and person-yorishiro seals have different colors?

Like, white on black seals for object-yorishiro, and red on black seals for person-yorishiro

We actually need to see Sumire’s seal in color to confirm this tho

Sumire, Shinigami, and the Repeating Motive of Tragic Human-Supernatural Relationships in JSHK

Boi. You knew from the first four panels alone that something went wrong with Sumire and Shinigami.

“Promise you’ll stay with me forever.”

Bruh. I can not.

I mean I’m already imagining stuffs that are probably not how their real story’s gonna go down but

It’s definitely tragic, you can smell it. I’ll be entirely shocked if it ain’t tragic

Shinigami’s her betrothed, right?

Why are they only getting married now tho? I assume these two first met ages ago.

Could it be that human Sumire died before they could?

If so ... what if they’re trying to fulfill their wish that never got to happen when Sumire was alive?

What if these two are a cautionary tale for Hanako and Nene?

This might be too far fetched but think about it.

Sumire said, “Falling for things that don’t exist in our world may be deemed a taboo, but you can’t help it if you’re attracted to them,” and it’s the same for Sumire.

According to her, Shinigami is a straitlaced but cute demon. He used to kill for fun (and out of boredom, ‘cause the dude is immortal) but he’s quick to get shy, too.

So. You’ve got a kannagi who’s all too kind to ‘monsters’ (taking in the mononokes, remember?) and try her best to help them.

And a monster with dangerous powers who also have a shy side and would do anything to do what they deem right.

Sounds familiar?

Let’s admit it. The only problem Nene has with liking Hanako is the fact that he’s not her type.

Him being dead has never been the main problem.

In fact, when she does acknowledge his death, it was out of sympathy. She wished he could’ve lived happier. But since he didn’t she sets out to make his afterlife happy, you know, as a good friend.

So I imagine if she does, in fact, accept that she really does like him like that, she’ll be a lot like Sumire, don’t you think?

Nene’s thing is that she’s got compassion for everyone, whether they’re supernaturals or not (unless they mock her legs I guess hahahaha).

She won over Yako (who still hasn’t admitted it), Tsuchigomori, and Shijima with her earnest heart.

On the other hand, Hanako was willing to defy his own principles, his hatred toward the fakeness of Shijima’s world, and perhaps supernatural law or whatever (’cause I doubt it’s ‘legal’ to keep the students trapped in a painting) just because Nene could live happily there.

As we (slowly) uncover Shinigami’s story, Nene also seems to be constantly confronted by others regarding her own feelings. Akane, Aoi, now Sumire.

Also:

“Promise you’ll stay with me forever?”

“Stay by my side until then, okay?”

BAM!

I just broke your hearts. Maybe. Maybe not.

Now Imma go cry.

#jibaku shounen hanako kun #toilet bound hanako kun #jshk manga spoilers #tbhk manga spoilers #hanako #yashiro nene #sumire #no. 6 #shinigami #bea rambles #see there's a reason why my tag is called bea rambles #let's talk about jshk manga

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thatsdemko · 6 years ago

Text

Waves-S.Knight

Requested: yes|no

Ntdp masterlist

A/N: Spencer’s new insta post got me inspired! And also this is similar to Cali boy... and I wrote this really fast 😳

Song

Let me know your thoughts if you have any!

You watched the kids run up to the water embracing the cold water, the kids playing in the sand building castles, the adults enjoying a refreshment tanning, and the many girls and boys your age just trying to get any kind of sun on their skin before school started. You laid beside your friend watching the waves hit against the slime enjoying the sounds, “lets go for a walk.” Your friend suggested and you nodded your head and you both got up grabbing your phones and the travel tervis cups that may or may not have been full with alcohol that your mother let you both sneak down.

You walked the shoreline together taking pictures of each other, pointing out the sea shells and talking about the latest things going on Snapchat, your small friend circle, and such, it felt nice for you both to be away from the drama going on.

You were down taking pictures of each other about to look through them when a guy came up to you both, “this is a weird question, but can you take a picture of me and my friends?” You agreed taking his phone and the group of, hot, shirtless boys piled around each other on the shoreline and you started taking pictures of them all, “the lighting isn’t that good do you want to move?” You yelled over the waves crashing against the shore and they all agreed and you started taking pictures of them all again.

“Thanks, we were wondering if you both wanted to hang out with us? We get it if you say no.” The one grabbed his phone and just as you were about to decline your friend smiled, “yeah we would love to.”

—

“Knighter! You missed pictures!” One of the boys shouted and you looked over your shoulder seeing the boy they were all talking to, and you felt breathless just looking at him. His blonde curls were everything to pull you in, not only that his body had you almost off your feet.

“Shoot your shot,” your friend whispered in your ear and you laughed turning your attention to her, you hadn’t dated anybody in such a long time, you almost wanted to push yourself to do this, but you wanted to wait for college, you didn’t want to fall in love with someone you would never see again.

“I won’t.”

“Who are these lovely ladies?” He asked in front of you both and you lost all words just looking at him this close in front of you. You almost forgot how to speak which caused your friend to shove your tervis into your chest, if you couldn’t speak sober the only thing that could get you to do it was what was in your cup.

“I’m y/f/n, and this is y/n.” She introduced you and you took a long swig of what was in your drink and he smiled at you, he felt it too, he didn’t know how to act in front of you as well, “cool I’m Spencer.” his smile could barely be wiped off his face walking away towards his friends now, “thank you for bringing them.” Spencer could hardly make it over to his friends saying that and they looked at you both talking together sitting on one of the boys towels.

“You want her? Shoot your shot.” He nudged his head in your direction and he could barely even look over at you knowing if he looked over at you he wouldn’t want to take his eyes off of you.

Spencer laughed, “yeah like she’d like me.”

—

Some more of the boys went to get more to drink from their beach house while you stayed back and your friend volunteered to go with so now it was you, a few of the boys, some girls, and Spencer.

“Just go talk to her, she’s alone around strangers be a man.” His friend shoved him across the beach practically and Spencer made his way over to you, you were looking out at the water bored out of your mind waiting for your friend to get back since none of the girls here were really your type of girls to hang with.

“Hey,” He said sitting down next to you and you smiled, “hi,” you looked over at him and butterflies were in your stomach now just by looking at him.

“You live in Massachusetts?” He asked and you nodded your head, “I can tell you don’t.” You laughed, he didn’t have a noticeable Massachusetts accent like you didn’t, but you knew he was from up the coast.

“No, no I’m from Connecticut.”

“Lacrosse player?”

“Surprisingly no.” He replied and you nodded your head, “then what are you, Connecticut boy?” You smirked running your hand through your hair, “hockey player, well goalie to be specific.”

“You like it?” You asked and he nodded his head smiling looking out at the water, “I played national development for the past two years with some of my best friends.” He sighed and you could see the sadness in his eyes thinking about those memories, “you’re not ready to let go are you?” You asked and now he looked at you, “how do you know?”

“It’s in your eyes, why are you sad to let it go?” You asked leaning back and he could barely find words as to why he wasn’t ready. He would be far away from all his friends again, some close by and some with him, but not all of them would join him.

“They were my best friends, and I never imagined two years with them would go by so fast.”

“Friends are forever, Spencer, they are just like the waves always in consent, yeah you’ll lose some, but some will stay with you, and that’s what’s important. People fade like the tide but they will come back. what’s important is the memories and lessons they’ve taught you.”

“I think that’s the most valuable thing someone has ever told me.” He replied getting up off the towel, “you want to come walk with me?”

“Yeah I’d love too.”

—

It was night time and you were invited to hang out with the boys after dinner at their place and now you were making your way from your beach house to theirs, it was only a couple blocks down which wouldn’t be a bad walk, except you both decided to drive around and get ice cream before heading over to their beach house. You were pulling up to their house with music blasting out your Jeep windows and all the boys playing basketball in the front stopped playing once you put your car in park.

“I think they know we are here.” Your friend laughed getting out of your car and you hopped out locking the car seeing them all go back to playing, “play your music any louder?” Spencer asked deciding to take a break from playing and your friend went over to the group of girls, she got along with them a lot more than you did.

“It’s called having a good time.” You said and he pulled something out of your hair, “yeah you’re going to have to take a shower again you have bugs in your hair, that’s what wind will do to you.” He smirked and now all the boys stopped playing basketball, “boys! It’s fishing time!” One of them clapped their hands and they all went inside, “are we allowed in?” You asked mainly to your friend, you weren’t sure if you were comfortable going inside some random guys beach house that you didn’t know, but you didn’t want to be the only ones not going in.

“You coming?!” One of the guys called out and you both walked inside seeing there were no parents at the house. not a single adult in sight which freaked you out even more, “if we die—“

“We won’t.” Your friend cut you off and you followed the boys getting their fishing poles and you all went back down to the beach seeing their set up was still there from earlier and you sat on Spencer’s towel, “hey,” he fake frowned and you shrugged blushing a little bit, “you can sit there—unless you want to fish with me?” He asked and you looked at your friend who nodded you along, “sure,” you stood up handing her your phone and you followed him out to the shoreline.

“You ever done fishing by the shore?” He asked starting to get his things around and you tied your hair back, “no.” You replied ane he smiling up at you, “today’s your lucky day.” He handed you the pole putting everything together and you looked over at your friend sitting there, she gave you a thumbs up and you turned back to Spencer.

“Alright, ready?” He asked and you nodded your head and he grabbed a hold of the pole from behind you throwing the line out, “there you go.”

“You’re just going to let me do it?” You asked nervously turning to him and he laughed nodding his head, “come on, Massachusetts girl, show me what you got.”

You laughed feeling the line tug and you reeled it in quickly to see you caught a big one, “nice catch,” Spencer went to the fish pulling it off the line, “I don’t know if I should say thank you or you’re welcome?”

“I mean thank you because you caught it and you’re welcome because you caught it for me.”

—

You watched Spencer with the girls for hours fish, it was boring because you decided you didn’t want to fish anymore, but Spencer every now and then would show you the fish he caught.

“Aye, Knight! You catch a big one next you got to ask the girl out!” One of his friends called out and he looked down the shoreline seeing the devilish smirk on his face, “deal!” He called back feeling the line tug pretty hard and Spencer reeled it in seeing it was no other than quite a large fish. It was like God was on his side or something giving him a sign.

He heard cheers from his buddies and that’s when he realized he had to ask you out, there was nothing bad about it, he just was afraid of rejection.

“Ask her out, man!” The same friend called out and Spencer let the fish go now heading over to you with his pole, you were sitting there by yourself since all the girls had gone back to get sweatshirts getting ready for sunset pictures.

“Do you want to go out to dinner tomorrow?”

“Sure, say seven o’clock?”

“I’ll see you then.”

They were like the waves, connected in a way the ocean told him something he never thought he could imagine. Always in consent. Some summers were just better than others and Spencer could agree with that.

#hockey imagines #hockey #ntdp #usntdp #spencer knight #s.knight

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

Text

Houroubing to Aruba, Chapter 3, (Branjie) - Blackhighheels

(Read at AO3)

Chapter 3: The ballgame

It is shortly before ten when Jose finally stirs. Brock has been replying to emails, checking up on social media and just surfing the net on his phone for the last hour and a half.

“What you doin’?” Jose mumbles, his eyes barely open.

“Just taking care of some things, reading emails.” Brock isn’t surprised when his boyfriend takes the phone out of his hand, throws it to the foot of the bed and places his head on his chest. His eyes close again. “You wanna go back to sleep or you up for some breakfast?” Brock runs his hands over Jose’s back, rubbing it lightly.

“You hungry?”

“Mmmh, slowly getting there.” Just then Brock’s stomach rumbles and Jose opens his eyes.

“Fine, let’s get up before you starve to death and everybody will think it’s my fault. All them cat owning lesbians will hunt me down.” Jose climbs over him to get out of bed and Brock uses the opportunity to pat his butt. “You better stop,” Jose warns him with a smile and a wink before he walks out of the room. “Lord, what did I drink last night? I have to pee so bad, I might be dripping and dropping all over the floor already. My bladder feels like it’s the size of a fucking water-melon. Fuck…hope this toilet is built correct and you said all your prayers, ‘cause we might have the flood upon us.”

Brock titters as he gets out of bed, used to the stream-of-consciousness kind of talking Jose does on the regular, when it’s just the two of them. He loves that he has no filter and stopped censoring himself a while ago. Not only does it provide Brock with countless hours of entertainment, but it also gives him a very clear view into his man’s mind - even though peeing might not be the topic he would have chosen.

After getting ready, they make their way down to breakfast and fall into the usual routine they’ve developed while touring together: Jose gets fruits and vegetables, Brock is responsible for yoghurt, porridge, scrambled eggs and bread. Whoever is back at the table first gets coffee and juice.

They choose a table outside on the terrace which has a view of the beach. The table is in the shade, so they can eat without getting roasted by the sun. It’s really warm already and Brock sighs in relief when he sits down in his cool chair. Even the wide tank top and shorts he’s wearing feel like too much clothing.

He looks around and notices that there is just one other couple sitting a few tables to the right, since breakfast ends at eleven and most other guests are already by the pool or at the beach.

“They have a barista here to make our cappuccino right. None of the machine crap.” Jose lets him know and points to the cup. There’s a palm tree painted into the milk foam of Jose’s cup and a heart in his. It’s whimsical, typically Jose and it makes him smile.

“It’s really amazing here. Feels a bit like a dream.”

“Did you sleep alright?” Jose asks him then.

“Yeah, until like eight, maybe? Longer than I’ve slept in a while. You?”

“I think I was up around four and got up to close the blinds.”

“The moon taunting you again?” Brock smiles knowingly.

“I must be half werewolf, I’m telling ya. Full moon and I’m up for no reason in the middle of the night.” Jose rubs one hand over the stubble on his cheeks “Would explain all this, too.”

“Don’t you always say your hair grows so fast because you’re Puerto Rican?”

“Might be lyin'… sneaky cover up and all.”

They fall silent for a moment, just eating and watching their surroundings. “So, what’s the plan for today?” Brock finally asks.

“Plan?”

“I thought you arranged it all with Henry?”

“Not really. He gave me a list of stuff we could do, if we want to, but I didn’t sign us up for nothing today. Thought maybe we just chill on the beach or by the pool? We can take a look at our options later and see what we wanna do the other days and then let Henry know?” Jose adjusts the black baseball hat he is wearing, the right way for once, and takes the sunglasses off.

“Sounds good,” Brock nods and gets distracted by his vibrating phone. It’s a text message from a booker in London and he quickly reads it.

“Hey, Brock?” Jose sounds a bit hesitant.

“Mmh?” he asks and quickly checks his calendar, so he can reply to the message.

“I think maybe we should talk about the phone and social media stuff now?”

“Just a second…” He quickly types out his answer, sends a copy of it to Steve and then puts his phone down. “What? Phone and social media stuff?” He’s lost and doesn’t really know what Jose means.

“You know, if and what we post and what rules we should have for the use of our phones while we’re here. We’ve never really decided on anything, just started talking about it and then dropped it 'cause we were too busy.”

“Oh, ok. I didn’t know we needed rules for our cellphone use, like we’re ten or something.” Brock wrinkles his nose, but the look on Jose’s face gives him pause. “Sorry,” he says quickly, realising this is not the time for flippant replies.

“No, it… I just… I don’t wanna fight. If you think it’s silly…”

“Jose, no, you’re right.” He needs to intervene and stop Jose from agreeing to everything and bending to his wishes during this trip, simply because he wants it to be perfect. It happened yesterday at the airport and again just now. “What do you think we should do?”

“I don’t really know. I’m not sure… so, don’t take this as a rule or nothin’, okay?”

“I’ll be your sounding board, just go ahead.”

“I know we can’t just vanish on the gram for like three weeks. You know, we have to feed the children or they’ll riot. But I don’t know, if I want pics from this trip to show up online: A. I don’t want no geo tags on nothing, so they don’t know where we at, 'cause some stalker ass is always close by and B. I wanna have this for us. If we take crappy pictures with fucked up lighting that we keep to remember this trip by, then that’s our business. I want no opinions or comments on how cute we look, or how we need to work out more, or if these fuckers like our outfits. When I went to Australia with Matt, no one knew shit and that was real cool. But I also don’t want you to think I’m hiding or holding back or some fucked up shit like that, like with the video.” Jose speaks calmly, but Brock can tell that it’s very important to him. “And while we at it, I think we shouldn’t work while we here. We both crazy and will get sucked in and I don’t want us to spend all the time checking mails and replying to texts on the phone, especially your micro-managing ass. We have assistants, they can take care of it for three weeks and when it’s real important they’ll call, right? Meanwhile, we can concentrate on each other.”

Brock takes a deep breath, because only the thought of being out of the loop for three weeks might send him straight into an anxiety attack. Jose takes his hand and moves his chair closer in silent support. Brock thinks about it, weighs his options and mulls over what Jose just said.

“I’ll let Steve know that he should filter the emails for me and put the really important stuff into a separate folder, so I can just ignore the rest. Give me like, an hour a day?” he offers.

“Twenty minutes?”

“Forty?”

“Deal.” Jose gives his hand a squeeze.

“As for social media: I think we should tell Tammy and Courtney to, like, post old pics and announcements for upcoming gigs, so we don’t vanish? Maybe they could also repost some stuff? Art we are tagged in or something? You’re right we shouldn’t worry about taking pictures for insta or about comments. We’re here for us. If we wanna share something we’ll decide spontaneously, ok?”

“Sounds good, toes.” Jose’s smile is wide and Brock knows they’ve made the right decision.

“But I think we should maybe call Andrew, Steve and your mom and let them know we’ve arrived safely and tell them what we’ve come up with so they don’t start worrying.”

“And then we go into flight mode and haul our asses to the beach to chillax and get a tan on?”

“Absolutely.” They seal the deal with a quick peck, chuckle when Jose’s hat nearly falls off as Brock bumps against it. “So, what do you say: Is it a swimming shorts or briefs kind of day?”

“With your white ass, it might be better to go with the trunks, otherwise you’ll burn the goods on the first day, which would be a shame. And you just bought new trunks. The Ralph Lauren ones look pretty fresh.”

“The Ralph Lauren ones it is,” Brock agrees and keeps Jose’s hand in his as they get up to go back to their room and get ready for the beach.

***

“You think Andrew’ll still be alive when we get back?” Jose asks as he spreads his towel out on the lounge bed of their beach cabana. He ist still chuckling because Brock just told him about the phone call he had with Andrew.

“I can’t believe both Henry and Apollo have already bit him.” Brock can’t help but laugh about it again.

“Told you, you spoil them kitty cats too much.They ain’t listening to shit you say. Why would they listen to Miss Nina, who thinks she’s Cinderella and they’ll dance and sing songs with her while she makes the bed?”

“But I’m their mommy,” Brock pouts, knowing full well that Jose is right.

“You definitely are, but one of those moms who always say: 'Wait until daddy gets home!’” Jose continues teasing him and sits down.

“I still don’t know how you stopped them from sleeping in our bed.”

“Girl, I kicked their furry butts out, that’s how. You can cuddle them all you want on the couch, but I never want to find no vomit fur balls in my bed, ever again.” He shudders at the memory and Brock laughs, when he remembers the incident. Jose’s screams of terror so loud, he thought he’d been attacked or something. “Can you do me?”

Brock snorts at the request. “Here? In public?” he fakes outrage.

“Stop playin’. You know I’m talking about the sun lotion,” Jose smirks and holds up the bottle he just dug out of his bag.

“Only if you 'do me’ next.” Brock takes the bottle from him and sits down behind him. He squirts the lotion on Jose’s shoulders then starts applying it and rubs it in all over his back.

“You better watch them fingers, perv,” Jose says when he swipes his hands underneath the hem of his trunks.

“As if you’d really say no,” Brock whispers in his ear and bites it gently, but takes his hands out of Jose’s pants.

“I don’t know which adult plus gay resort you used to spend your vacations at, but here at this gay friendly but very straight-people beach, shit like this will get us thrown out. So you better channel your very christian upbringing and manners, cause, bitch, I will not be kicked out of this resort, because you decide to finger me first opportunity on the beach,” Jose rants and Brock cackles when he hears his words. He really hopes no one is close by to overhear them.

“And you pretend to be a good catholic boy?”

“Don’t have to pretend. I am!” He gives him an exaggerated fake Vanjie smile, that shows all of his white teeth. “And now lay down on your stomach like a good little gay boy, so I can get the sun block on you, so you not you roasting and toasting.” Jose doesn’t simply rub the lotion in, he gives him a really good massage and by the end of it Brock is so relaxed he’s nearly asleep. “There you go,” Jose says when he’s done and presses a kiss to the back of his head, before he climbs over him once more and flops down beside him. He crosses his arms behind his head and looks around. “What do you think their stories are?"

"Huh?” Brock turns around so he can see what Jose sees.

“The other couples. What do you think their stories are? Like, why are they here?”

“I don’t know. Like, vacation or honeymoon maybe?”

“Honeymoon? These two over there haven’t spoken a single word to each other since we’ve gotten here and he stares at every ass walking by. If this is their honeymoon, she’ll better have the divorce papers ready.” Jose is talking about a couple that’s maybe in their early forties and lying a bit further down on the beach on the normal sun chairs. She keeps flipping through her phone while he ogles the other women at the beach.

“Maybe they’re not a couple?”

“They’re wearing matching wedding bands.” Of course Jose would zoom in on details like this.

“Then I’m out. But maybe we’ll find out while we’re here?”

“Maybe. If we ever get like this, boo, even Laurie might not be able to save us.”

“We won’t. I mean, you just limited my cellphone time and I’d be scared for my balls if you caught me ogling anyone like this. He’s not really subtle.”

“You’d better be, cause I’d go all Lorena on ya, but wouldn’t tell anyone where to find the parts!” Jose confirms. “But hey, maybe they have one of these open relationship things and he’s just looking for prey?”

“Honestly, as long as he keeps his paws off you, I don’t give a fuck.” Brock decides to end the speculations that Jose can get lost in.

“It’s cute when you all jealous and possessive.” Jose leans over and kisses him like it’s the biggest compliment ever. Brock has to admit, that since they got back together not only is he not missing his freedom at all, but also he has become what he’d earlier would have called “clingy”. He’s just lucky that Jose is totally into it. “You wanna go swimming?” Jose accepts the topic change.

“Not right now. Your massage nearly put me to sleep.” A wide yawn follows his words.

“Want me to put you to sleep?” Jose offers and wiggles his fingers. Sometimes when Brock has trouble sleeping, Jose makes him curl up to him and rubs his back until he relaxes and falls asleep. Usually it works.

“It’s too hot, papi. I’d be dripping sweat all over your shoulder.”

Jose guffaws. “That’s not the only thing you’re dripping all over me on the regular.”

Brock just rolls onto his side, so he is facing his boyfriend and moves a bit closer. “Just be quiet and let me nap,” he counters, but takes his hand and places a kiss on Jose’s palm and then licks it, before he closes his eyes.

***

“You wanna go swimming now?” Jose asks as soon as he realises that Brock is awake again. Brock stretches lazily, nods and sits up. Jose basically jumps off the bed.

“Help me up?” Brock requests and holds out his hands.

“Sure, grandpa.” Jose pulls him up and leads the way to the water. Brock watches him as he carefully dips his toes in, then walks in a bit further.

His boyfriend really is beautiful and not only because he’s in great shape, Brock muses, lost in thoughts. It’s the way he carries himself, wears his heart on his sleeve, his bronze skin, the hair that’s always falling into his face because it’s just a bit too long. His strong legs, tiny waist and delicious ass - even in swim trunks. And it’s also the way he fits right under Brock’s arm, how he loves to snuggle with him, how he makes him laugh and how he can communicate with just one look how much he loves Brock in return. “It not too bad,” is Jose’s verdict, before he jumps in and lands in the ocean with a loud splash that leaves Brock dripping wet.

“Oh wait, you little shit!” he threatens and jumps in after Jose, but his boyfriend is faster in the water than Brock thought. While he never really mastered how to do the crawl, Jose surely knows how and uses it to his advantage to get away from Brock.

“Haha! You can’t get me, grandpa!” he screams and splashes more water in his direction with both hands.

“No, but I can wait you out!” Brock yells back and keeps treading water and tries to find a moment to counter attack, but Jose is simply too fast. He decides to go back to where he can stand. As soon as his feet touch the ground, he turns around to keep an eye on Jose, but he can’t see him anymore. How far can he swim in just a couple of seconds? Suddenly something pops out from under the water behind him and a second later Jose has jumped on his back. Narrowly Brock avoids falling and Jose’s boisterous laughter is ringing in his ears.

“Gotcha!"

Brock wraps his arms around Jo’s legs and holds him there, basically giving him a piggyback ride. "I think I got you, papi.” Jose’s arms tighten around his neck as he adjusts his position. A second later he leans forward and places a kiss on Brock’s cheek. When he turns his head, another kiss follows, on the lips this time.

“You taste like salt,” Jose states and smacks and licks his lips when he pulls back.

“So do you.” Brock walks them further into the sea again and dips down so only their heads are above the water. “I didn’t know you were that good a swimmer.”

“I told you. You should have believed me.”

“Ever took lessons or were in a club at school or something?”

“No, but my brother used to take me to the beach with him when we were younger. All of his friends were there and they always thought it was fun to throw the little brother around in the water like a football, or see how long I could hold my breath. I had to be faster than them to get away.” Jose tells the story like it’s a fond memory, and maybe in some ways it is, but Brock has enough knowledge to understand that Jose didn’t have too much fun back then and was scrambling for his older brother’s attention without getting it in a positive way.

“I’m surprised your mom let you go with them if that’s what was going on.”

“Mom never found out. I never told her, 'cause we would have had to stay home all day while she was working.” Brock lets go off Jose’s legs and pulls him to his front instead. Jo’s legs are now wrapped around his waist. He doesn’t know why, but every time Jose talks about his childhood, all he wants to do is shower him with love and affection to make it all better. His lips find Jose’s again and he kisses him gently, but with enough heat so Jose makes these little noises in the back of his throat that Brock loves so much. It’s a wave crashing into them that makes them break apart after a while and they both start laughing.

“Let’s get out and get dry. Then we can take a look at the list Henry gave you,” Brock suggests as they wade towards the beach. A group of people, mostly guys, is standing there, talking about something and they all turn towards them when get out of the water. Brock hopes they don’t recognise them.

“Hey,” one of the guys calls out as a greeting.

“Hey,” Brock replies and wants to keep walking towards their cabana, but Jose is already en route to them, always one for socialising even with large crowds of complete strangers.

“You’re new right?”

“Yeah, we got here yesterday. I’m Jose, this is Brock,” he introduces them.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Bill.” The guy who is talking shakes Jose’s hand and claps him on the back, while Brock remains standing slightly behind him. “We were wondering if you’d join us playing volleyball. We really need some more people.”

“Of course, I’m game,” Jose agrees before Brock can stop him, because, really, playing a ball game he sucks at with a bunch of strangers is the last thing he wants to do. Also, they have plans, right? They wanted to see what romantic things they could do over the next days, just the two of them. “Brock, you too, right?” Jose turns around to him.

“I think I’ll sit this one out,” he tells him and some of the guys grumble and try and encourage him to join in.

“Come one! You sure?”

“Yeah… uh, you’re sure you wanna play with you knee and all?” he tries to talk him out of it without being too obvious.

“My knee’s fine,” Jose shrugs. “See you in a few?"

"Yeah,” Brock nods and walks off to the cabana. He can see and hear them perfectly from where he is sitting, wrapped in his towel.

They quickly form two teams and start the game. Jose isn’t half bad, but every time he misses the ball he pretends he is the worst player ever. In no time he has all of them cheering him on and laughing about everything he does or says. He weirdly fits in with these straight men, jocks, and banker-types, who have all come together to play volleyball but instead have fallen under the spell of Vanjie without knowing it. Bock watches it with fascination and envies his boyfriend for a second. He wishes he was that charismatic and engaging in social situations. Jose lives and breathes entertaining crowds of strangers, while it gives Brock anxiety. He wishes he could be there and play as well, get some of Jose’s attention and jokes directed at him, but knows he would be all awkward and would quickly become the guy no one wants on the team.

They all love Jose and they all have Jose’s attention as he makes them laugh, makes them cheer him on, makes them feel like they’re his buddies.

His good mood fades more and more, the longer he watches the game. He doesn’t want to analyse what he’s feeling and finally lies back and closes his eyes. He can still hear them, can hear Jose’s happy laughter and hilarious comments, neither of which are directed at him.

“Hey, you asleep?” Jose pants a while later, standing beside him in the sand, completely dripping wet.

“You done?”

“Nah, half-time. We just went to cool off in the sea for a second.” Brock knows Jose is observing him closely, even though he can barely see it, because he is blinking against the sun. “What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“Why you saying it like that?” Jose’s eyes narrow further behind his shades, Brock can tell just by his tone.

“I’m not saying it 'like that’. I’m just doing nothing.” He knows he is pouting, but he doesn’t want to talk about it. “Why don’t you go back to your game and let me get back to my doing nothing,” he suggest and closes his eyes again.

“Get up!” Jose suddenly sounds like his mother when she’s pissed, a latin accent even comes through.

“What?” he opens his eyes again.

“Now, white boy,” Jose orders and waits until Brock is standing beside the bed. Then he kicks Brock’s flips flops towards him and puts on his own, before he drags him off by his wrist.

“Hey, what are you doing? Let go of me! Where are we going?” Brock complains and tries to free his arm, but Jose just keeps dragging him through the resort until they reach their penthouse. Jose unlocks the door, drags him in and pulls out a chair from the table in the living room and places it in the middle of the room.

“Sit!” he orders and Brock is so dumbfounded he complies. “Talk!”

“What?” he crosses his arms in front of his chest and plays dumb while Jose glares down on him. His refusal makes Jose take a deep breath and he pulls out a chair for himself.

His voice is softer when he speaks again, just a bit. “Tell me what got your trunks in a twist. We done playin’, Brock! No drama on this fucking vacation! Just spit it out.”

“I thought we were making plans for all the romantic stuff and then you go off and play volleyball with all these guys.”

“You could have played with us.”

“I suck at all sports involving a ball and they would have just laughed about me.”

“You an idiot, Brock.” Jose sighs loudly. “A pouting, jealous idiot.” He gets off his chair and walks over to him. “Get up,” he says, but there is no more authority in his voice. He sounds a little bit amused, which rubs Brock the wrong way.

“You just told me to sit down!”

“Bitch, really?” Jose sniggers and raises one eyebrow. Brock knows he is acting ridiculous, he doesn’t need Jose to rub it in. As soon as Brock stands, Jose is on his knees in front of him, pulls down his swimming trunks and sucks his dick into his mouth.

“Jo, what the fuck?” Brock exclaims in surprise, but the hand that flies to Jose’s head and tangles in his wet hair is certainly not pulling him off.

“You need some attention, 'cause you’re being a jealous little whiny bitch, and I wanna suck your dick, because…do I really need a reason?” He shrugs. “Any problem with that?” He licks his cock like it’s a popsicle and Brock is sure his eyes roll into the back of his head. He moans.

“None, your honour,” Brock says when he finds his voice again.

“Then shut up and hold on tight.” With these words Jose goes down on him again. He starts slow, licks his shaft and his balls and focusses on the head for a while. Then he takes him deep, even gags one time, then continues, bops his head fast and sucks like he’s starving. It’s truly ridiculous how fast Jose has him going from being limp and jealous to coming down his throat with a loud groan.

“You really are fucking crazy,” Brock chuckles as he helps Jose stand up and pulls him against him.

“Do you feel better or not?” Jose’s hands find their way to his naked butt.

“I do. Thank you.” He kisses him deeply and gets a thrill out of the fact that he can taste himself on Jose’s lips. Take that you damn volleyball players!

“You ready to go back down and stop the drama or you wanna stay here and pout some more?” Jose is back to teasing him, which is a good sign.

“How about I return the favour first?” He cups his crotch through his wet swimming trunks and unsurprisingly finds him half hard.

“No! First you gotta earn it by playing some volleyball with me and the guys and then we gonna tackle the damn list, so the romance is back on.”

“Fine, but I might need a snack in between. I’m getting hungry.”

“I’m the snack!” Jose points out and pulls Brock’s shorts back up.

“You are, but you’re not letting me suck you off.”

“Come on, you attention whore, maybe Imma feel more giving later.” Brock smiles when he gets another kiss before they leave their penthouse. Jose stops him again just before they reach the others on the beach. “Oh and just so you know: There’s a ballgame, where it’s really good when you suck!” His wiggling eyebrows make Brock chortle and forget about his anxiety about being faced with a group of strangers and having to play a game with them. They both learn that day that Brock likes volleyball and isn’t bad at it at all.

***

After cooling off once the game is done, they pack their things and make their way back to the terrace by the restaurant. While drinks were served on the beach, they needed something to eat, because dinner was still hours away.

“Hello gentlemen, what can I get you?” It’s Henry who shows up to take their order

“Henry, hi. You being a waiter today?” Jose asks him happily.

“I simply saw you coming up and decided to check in on you. I hope everything is satisfactory?”

“Everything is amazing, thank you,” Brock replies.

“We gonna make the romance plans now and then let you know, ok?”

“Very well. What can I do for you meanwhile?”

“Can you get us a large bottle of non-sparkling water and two salads with tuna and garlic bread?” Brock orders.

“Make that two bottles of water. I feel like I’m drying up from the inside out,” Jose supplies.

“Thank you and see you later.”

“Bye Henry,” Brock tells him and waits until he’s gone before he speaks again. “You think he’s spying on us? That was kind of creepy.”

“Maybe he ordered the Vanjie tracking device when he heard we were coming,” Jose jokes and leans in conspiratorially. Brock decides not to go on with this topic, because if Jose is already opening with this statement, only god knows what will come out of his mouth next.

He pecks his lips and changes the topic. “So where is the famous romance list?” Jose digs through their bag and hands it to Brock just as their drinks arrive. “You know if you wanna do something sporty or with a group?”

“I think we had enough group and sport action today. Send you right into a jealous fit. How about just the two of us? Something relaxing?” Jose changes his sunglasses for another pair, so he can read along. The lenses in the stylish other pair are great for everything except reading, because they are designed to fix Jose’s myopia.

“Tomorrow evening is the movie night under the stars. They’re showing 'Notting Hill’, but that’s with a group, I guess,” Brock thinks out loud.

“We could maybe do the picnic in the afternoon and go to the movie night after dinner. If we still feeling like being alone, I don’t think anyone will care,” Jose suggests.

“Sounds good. Should we plan the rest of the week already or you wanna be more spontaneous?”

“We could maybe do the segway tour the day after?"

Brock immediately shakes his head forcefully. "No! No way you are doing a segway tour. I saw you once on a scooter and on ski, uh-uh, ain’t happening.” His words only make Jose chuckle.

“Fine. How about this hike? Seeing the best places of Aruba and go snorkelling in between doesn’t sound too bad.”

“I like it,” Brock agrees, because he really wants to see a bit of the island and not only the resort.

“We really good at this shit now,” Jose points out.

“Planing trips together?” Brock asks just as Henry comes back with their salads.

“Talking, toes. But sure, planing, too.”

“Have you found something?” Henry asks them after placing their food in front of them.

“Yes, we’d love to go on a picnic tomorrow around noon and then join in on the movie night. And the day after, the hike with the snorkelling sounds really great,” Brock lets him know, while Jose is already devouring his salad.

“Of course. Do you have any special requests for picnic stops? By the beach, in town?”

“No, just surprise us, we trust you.” Brock shrugs and Henry leaves them alone again.

“Look at you being all spontaneous all of a sudden,” Jose points out.

“I can be spontaneous.”

“Good, but swallow before you talk or Imma tell your mama,” Jose laughs when salad nearly falls out of Brock’s mouth.

“And apparently I can be very sexy, too,” he laughs about his own mishap.

“Wanna spend the rest of the day being sexy by the pool before we have to get ready for dinner?” Jose asks him, still sniggering. Brock agrees, and once more they have a plan.

***

After dinner that night they go back out on the restaurant terrace and order themselves some gin tonic. Their table is on the edge of the terrace and so it takes a while when more and more couples come out, until someone comes up to them.

“We’re sorry, but may we join you? All the other seats are taken.” A tall woman, maybe in her sixties, with bright blue eyes and white hair, asks them. Her tan skin makes her eyes even more striking, even in the near darkness.

“Yes, of course, please do,” Brock nods and Jose even gets up and pulls the chair out for her.

“Oh thank you, darling. I’m Margaret and this is my husband Magnus,” she introduces them and they all shake hands as Brock and Jose introduce themselves.

“Jose? You’re Spanish?” she asks.

“Puerto Rican, but I live in LA now.”

“And you, Brock?” her husband asks. He is also tall, a bit on the heavy side and looks like Santa Claus, Brock thinks.

“I’m originally from Canada, but I live in L.A. now, too. And where are you from? I think I hear a bit of an accent.”

“And he should know about having an accent,” Jose teases him.

“We’re from Sweden.”

“Oh how nice!” Brock gushes. “I’m like a quarter Swedish or something and I’ve been to Stockholm a while ago. You live there?”

“No,” Magnus laughs about Brock’s enthusiasm. “We’re from a very small town up north. Just three hundred inhabitants.”

“Up north? Like at the north pole?” Jose asks and waves for the waiter.

“No, that’s even further north,” Margaret smiles.

“But it real cold there, right? He from Toronto that’s damn cold, too. Never seen so much snow in my life, Mary.”

“Yeah, we have a lot of snow.” She confirms.

“What do you want to drink?” Brock asks them when the waiter has arrived.

“What is it you’re having?”

“Gin tonic. Oh, you could bring us two more,” Brock decides, making use of the opportunity that the waiter is there.

“Make that four, we’ll have the same,” Magnus decides.

“You here to get away from the cold?” Jose asks curiously and places his hand on top of Brock’s leg underneath the table, his fingertips gliding over the naked skin of his knee with comfortable familiarity.

“Yeah, that too” Margaret confirms. “But mainly we’re here for our 25th wedding anniversary. We spent our honeymoon here and decided to come back. It’s even more beautiful now, with the resorts they built and all.”

“25 years, wow, that’s a long time, mama.” Jose nods his head as he speaks.

“It really is. Thirty years together, 25 married.” She nods along with him.

“That’s the goal, isn’t it? No matter if you married or not, just stick together through thick and thin,” Jose muses and Brock takes his hand that is still resting on his knee.

“It’s not always easy and we’ve had our moments, but we don’t regret it.” Magnus adds. “And what are you doing here? You’re here with your girlfriends or wives?” The question is asked good-naturedly, but still makes Brock a bit nervous. He doesn’t really know how to reply without making it uncomfortable for all of them. Jose has no such reservations, of course.

“Ha! If you want we can flip a coin and then tell you who the wifey is,” he guffaws. “We here together for our first vacation.”

“Oh you are a couple, how sweet!” Margaret seems genuinely excited. “You know you two are the first real gay couple I’ve ever met. Otherwise this way up north we only get gay people on the TV.”

“I think you’d be surprised,” Brock can’t help but snort. “My sister was married for years and had a couple of kids before she came out as a lesbian. Not everything is as it seems, no matter how small the village.”

“What’s the statistical statistics stuff?” Jose asks and turns towards Brock.

“Something like 5%, I think?”

“As in 5% of people are gay?” Magnus asks. They all wait for their drinks to be set on the table before they continue their talk. “That would be like 15 people in our village? I wonder who that could be!”

“Maybe old Sverre? He never got married and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him with a woman?”

“I could google the exact percentage for Sweden, but my man here has banned cellphones for the time being.” Brock says and wraps his free arm around Jose’s shoulders.

“And you’re right to do so, darling. It’s horrible when all this people are only staring into their phones and don’t talk to each other anymore.” Margaret pats Jose’s arm.

“You had your forty minutes of internet time today, toes. The rest of your time belongs to me,” Jose smiles up at him and slurps the rest of his gin tonic. “And I’m a darling, you heard that?” He looks so proud and smug that Brock just has to kiss him.

“I heard, papi.”

“There is this couple here at the resort, they have been here for four days… or is it five Magnus?"

"Which couple do you mean?”

“Gianna and TJ. She’s always on the phone and he keeps ogling everything on two legs?”

“Mami, we know exactly who you’re talking about!” Jose exclaims excitedly, Brock pulls him closer and they are off to kiki about the real tea at the resort until the bar closes and they stumble back to their room, so drunk they barely find the way.

“I still haven’t got to suck your dick,” Brock remembers when they are lying in bed beside each other, clad only in their underwear.

“You drunk… I’m more drunk. Can wake me up with a blowjob if you want,” Jose slurs, barely awake.

“K… blowjob t'morrow mornin'… G'night.” Brock repeats and closes his eyes, hopes that the bed will stop spinning soon.

“G'night.”

TBC

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #fluff #smut #drama #canon compliant #houroubing to aruba #blackhighheels

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precious-peter-parkerr-blog · 6 years ago

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Feminine!Peter|Fashion Designer!Tony

So, here I am with another au I came up with featuring feminine!Peter. I just have to say I adore feminine!Peter and I need more of him in my life. This might be a two (or three) parter, so stay tuned? XD (Disclaimer: I know little about fashion)

Peter has always been… different.

Or at least he believed that he was

Ever since Peter was a child he embraced his feminine side

He loved to dress up in costume dresses, have May do his makeup and nails

May never had a problem with it. She complimented Peter after she was done telling him he looked very pretty

Peter would just beam at the praise. It made him feel really good about himself

As he got older he continued to do and wear more feminine things

While in the third grade Peter decided he wanted to wear a dress to school instead of jeans and a t-shirt.

“I wanna look pretty today, Aunt May!”

Peter picked his favorite blue dress with the matching bow

He chose his sneakers to wear instead of his sparkly shoes that went with the dress—they’re hard to run in

But all in all Peter thought he looked very pretty and May thought so too

It’s Peter's first time showing up to school with a dress

A lot of the girls in his class loved his dress, telling him that they loved the way it sparkled in the light

Some of the boys in his class even complimented him

But there were other kids that gave Peter a very hard time

“You're a boy! You can't wear dresses!”

“You're weird, Peter!”

Peter didn't understand why he couldn't wear a dress or why it was a problem

But Peter didn't let it get to him, not at first anyway

When recess came, a lot of people were pointing and staring and laughing at him

Peter wasn't doing anything funny, he didn't understand why they were laughing

Then a big kid he didn't know approached him,

“Why are you wearing a dress?”

“B-because I like it. It makes me look pretty.”

“Boys aren't supposed to look pretty!”

“Why not?”

“'Cause they're not supposed to!”

“Well, I want to.”

Peter didn't want to talk to the big kid anymore so he ran off to find his friend

But the kid followed him, yelling things at him about how he was “supposed to dress”

Peter turns around and yells,

“Leave me alone! I'm not doing anything wrong!”

“Dresses are for girls! Not for boys!”

Then the boy pushed him back, causing Peter to trip over his feet and af fall

Peter frowned when he felt something cold and squishy underneath him

Mud, the boy had made him fall back in mind

Peter couldn't hold back his tears, his favorite dress that Aunt May bought just for him was ruined

Ever since that day, Peter never wore another dress

He never asked May to paint his nails or do his makeup

“I'm a boy. I'm not supposed to be pretty.”

Peter kept this mindset til his first year in high school

He caught a glimpse of a gorgeous dress in a fashion magazine his teacher was looking at in study hall

It's a frilly, pink cocktail dress covered with pink sparkles at the top, a diamond belt at the waist

And in that moment it is like something reignited in him

Peter then begins to drift back into doing the things he used to do and then some

He does his nails on the weekends, watches makeup tutorials on YouTube (and then has May help him try to copy the look), goes window shopping

Peter does keep this all pretty hush hush though, in fear of judgmental stares and hurtful words

The only ones who know about it is May, Ned, and MJ who love and accept him regardless

However, Peter has finally come to terms with himself

There’s absolutely nothing wrong with him

Peter begins to pick up fashion magazines after a while, and begins to fall in love with clothing line after clothing line

The Romanoff line is one of his favorites

The clothing in this line is sleek and sexy, Peter catches himself blushing when he tries to imagine himself in those clothes

Natasha on the other hand? She can pull it off like it’s nothing

The Goddess line is also one of Pete’s favorite

The clothing in this line is fun, yet elegant and different

Loki does amazing job designing the clothes and looks stunning modeling them

But the one clothing line he loves the most is the Stark line

And no it’s not his favorite line just because Anthony Edward Stark is devilishly handsome

No…That’s just one of the reasons…

Peter also really loves the clothes he designs

His clothing line ranges from sophisticated and bold, to playful and cute, to even casual

That dress he saw in the magazine all those months ago? It’s from the Stark line

Oh how Peter wants that dress now— he honestly wants everything from Stark line, out of fashion or not.

But Stark’s clothing is expensive, more expensive than his other two favorites

It’s so pricey that Peter would never be able to even afford a jacket— one jacket is $5,000

One jacket

But on his 18th birthday, May surprises him

That morning May wakes him up with a kiss on the cheek and a box wrapped in pink and blue polka dot paper

“You didn’t have to get me anything, May.”

“I know, but I wanted to get something for my favorite nephew.”

Inside the box? A brand new jean jacket from the Stark line

Peter nearly cries

Okay he does, he does cry. He loves this line and Anthony Edward Stark’s work so much

Aunt May has become the best aunt in the universe and Peter can’t thank her enough

Peter wears and shows the jacket off everywhere

He tweets about it on Twitter and posts multiple pics of himself wearing on his Instagram

(He’s got Flash and everyone else that could bully him blocked don’t worry)

Peter begs Ned to take full body pics of him, selfies wouldn’t do this jacket justice

Then the unexpected happens…. Anthony Stark himself likes his Instagram post

Peter’s sure it’s a fake account at first, but then immediately comes to find it’s legit— Instagram verified

It’s really Anthony Stark liking his post

And if that weren’t enough he also commented on it

I’m so glad that you love my jacket! It looks great on you! Enjoy! - A.S.

Peter has never fanboyed so hard in his life. He texts everyone he knows, tweets about it, and makes an Insta story

And Peter doesn’t shut-up about Anthony Stark, the real Anthony Stark, commenting on his post for a week

#starker #peter x tony #peter parker x tony stark #starker au

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pass-the-bechdel · 6 years ago

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Marvel Cinematic Universe: Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015)

Does it pass the Bechdel Test?

Yes, once.

How many female characters (with names and lines) are there?

Seven (30.43% of cast).

How many male characters (with names and lines) are there?

Sixteen.

Positive Content Rating:

Three.

General Film Quality:

Significantly flawed, and well-known in fandom for it. Unpopular opinion? I still think it’s better than the first Avengers film.

MORE INFO (and potential spoilers) UNDER THE CUT:

Passing the Bechdel:

Natasha and Laura pass in a single-line trade. It’s sooo close to not counting.

Female characters:

Natasha Romanoff.

Wanda Maximoff.

Maria Hill.

Helen Cho.

Peggy Carter.

Laura Barton.

FRIDAY.

Male characters:

Tony Stark.

Steve Rogers.

JARVIS.

Thor.

Clint Barton.

Strucker.

Pietro Maximoff.

Bruce Banner.

Ultron.

Sam Wilson.

James Rhodes.

Ulysses Klaue.

Heimdall.

Nick Fury.

Erik Selvig.

Vision.

OTHER NOTES:

Everyone talking about Strucker like we already know who he is...

The “Shit!”/”Language!” gag was funnier before they hung a lantern on it. Not least because it takes almost a full minute before Tony harks back to it (fifty seconds, actually. I checked). If you’re gonna make a Thing out of it, you gotta follow up immediately, not after fifty seconds of cutting around to different character intros and action shots and a whole lot of other dialogue.

Urrgghh, ok, I’m going to break my standing rule about not discussing source material, because we gotta acknowledge the colossal wrongness of re-writing the Maximoff twins - canonically Jewish Romani - as willing volunteers in a Nazi science experiment. It gets worse the more you think about it. There are a few things about this movie which generated significant negative outcry, and this incredibly offensive decision is one of them.

Tony and Thor fighting over who has a better girlfriend does have a certain charm to it. If you’re gonna have a testosterone-off, it might as well be about how great your partner is.

I got a zero out of ten on this out-of-nowhere forced romance crap with Natasha and Bruce. We’ll come back to this later.

“I will be reinstituting Prima Nocta,” Tony declares, as he prepares to lift Thor’s hammer and thereby theoretically take charge of the Nine Realms. Primae noctis (believed to in fact be a myth) refers to a supposed Dark-Ages law that granted lords the ‘right’ to take the virginity of any newlywed peasant woman who lived on their land. So, this is a wonderful little rape joke from Tony (or, y’know, not so little, since primae noctis in reality would make Tony a serial rapist). Ha ha ha ha. Hilarious. Good one.

I’m really mad about the parts here that are total garbage, because mostly, the revels sequence has a nice low-key quality to it, good solid team dynamics.

I can’t fucking believe that they played the ‘and then Bruce falls with his face in Natasha’s cleavage!’ gag. I cannot believe it. Is this a disgusting frat-boy comedy from the nineties?

Honestly, Tony, just shut up and admit that you KNEW from the get-go that it was wrong to try and make Ultron happen (that is why you kept it secret from everyone else to begin with); don’t try to defend the decision now that you’ve got a ‘murderbot’ on your hands. Take responsibility for a bad choice instead of talking shit about how you had to and everyone else is just too short-sighted, damn it!

Andy Serkis is delightful.

The Iron Man/Hulk fight absolutely KILLS the momentum of this film. It goes for way the fuck too long (eight minutes) and has no narrative significance at all. Pro tip for action scenes: they should always be driving the story somewhere. You can pull off eighty minutes of action so long as your plot is advancing alongside/within it.

Also, Iron Man causes a huge amount of additional damage during this fight, in the service of the aforementioned pointless action. His efforts to minimise Hulk’s effects are extremely poor, and calling in his relief organisation to clean up after the fact does not negate that.

Gotta love that throwing a wife and kids at Hawkeye at the same time as we suddenly start pushing this Natasha/Bruce thing. That’s not transparent at all. I also understand this to be a major deviation from Clint’s identity in the comics, and very unpopular with fans for that reason, but regardless; reinventing him as a family man to reset the romantic blather after baiting fans with the possibility of Clint/Natasha in the first Avengers movie is such a shitty move. I was not invested in the ship myself and would have loved to have them reinforce the just-friends relationship between Hawkeye and Black Widow, because there are not enough platonic friendships between compatible men and women in fiction, but 'they’re not interested in each other because they’re busy with someone else!’ is a weak reinforcement indeed. Less forced romances, and definitely less token wifey who exists for no other Goddamn reason at all. This comes out of nowhere, and not in a clever-surprise kind of way.

“You still think you’re the only monster on the team?” Natasha says, after telling Bruce about her sterilisation. This earned a HUGE backlash, and for good reason - despite all arguments about how what Natasha meant was that her being raised to be an assassin makes her a monster, the direct implication of her words as they are phrased and as the discussion is structured is that her inability to have children makes her monstrous, and that’s deeply offensive. It’s also completely in keeping with a narrative which is often played out against women, in which their value as people is attributed directly to their ability to produce offspring, so it’s not even like this outrageous implication of monstrosity - the corruption of what it means to be female! - is that unusual. It’s awful, but not unusual. Add on the fact that 1) Natasha’s nightmare-flashes specifically foregrounded her sterilisation over all other details of her training, supporting the idea that she believes that it’s what makes her irredeemable (instead of, y’know, all the murdering and stuff), and 2) this is Joss Whedon’s work and he is OBSESSED with highlighting the womanhood of his female characters and treating it like their defining trait while also variously punishing them for it, and you’ve got every reason to interpret this terrible fucking line as exactly the heinous thing it (presumably, unwittingly) seems to be.

Steve ripping a log in half with his bare hands is the funniest thing in this whole movie.

Thor’s brief side-adventure with Erik Selvig is pretty out-of-place. He just...goes for a swim in a convenient magic pond that Selvig chances to know about. Seems normal.

Ultron is full of such boring, empty rhetoric. Reminds me of Loki in The Avengers, with all that sound-and-fury.

I love Paul Bettany.

Man, they sure do find Natasha instantly. It’s almost like making a damsel-in-distress of her who needs to be rescued by the team was completely meaningless...

Breaking my no-BTS rule (since I already have done for this movie at this point) because it’s well-known how Joss Whedon ordered Elizabeth Olsen not to show exertion or ‘ugly emotion’ on her face in this film, because God forbid she compromise her attractiveness by being human. Joss Whedon is not human; he’s fucking trash.

The final fight sure does just, y’know, get to a point where it ends. They really did not ratchet up the tension over the course of the Sokovia conflict, it just goes along until it stops (also, they say Sokovia is a country, but then they never call the city anything else, it’s just Sokovia. Is the city conveniently named after the country (very confusing), or is it a city-country, like The Vatican? I kinda assume it’s option three, which is that no one bothered to care because it’s just some fake European placeholder anyway and we’re not supposed to notice such a dumb oversight).

“I was born yesterday.” This is the best quip in this whole thinks-it-is-way-wittier-than-it-is movie.

Helen Cho deserved better than to be a prop rapidly dismissed and then just trotted past at the end for an ‘oh, she survived, btw’.

Back when I reviewed the first Avengers movie, I said that I considered that film to be heavily overrated, so maybe it’s not such a surprise that I actually like this one better. The two primary problems I had with that first film were the overly simplistic plot, and the fact that most of the characters were OOC compared to previous films, and this movie does do better on both scores, so I feel more engaged by it, and less annoyed. That said...this movie has still got a lot of problems, and those include iffy characterisation and a plot with various holes, nonsensical complications, and conveniently ignored or smoothed-down dynamics. When I say I like this movie better than the first one, I mean just that: I like this better. That does not mean I am here to sing its praises.

The tacked-on romance is part of the problem - for Clint as well as Natasha (but especially for Natasha). After Hawkeye was so heavily under-used in the first film (and his slightly-ambiguous relationship with Black Widow was the only human element that made him a character instead of a prop), Age of Ultron attempts to compensate by giving Clint a personal life, in the form of a magically-appearing heavily-pregnant wife and a pair of nameless children. The function of this family appears to be 1) to give Clint a reason to not be interested in Natasha, and 2) to ‘humanise’ him by giving him something to fight for and get home to, because we all know nothing legitimises a character quite like some otherwise-irrelevant dependents. Want a man to seem lovable and important? Give him a pregnant wife. That’s what women are for, anyway, right? To enhance a man’s story? In this case, to provide a man whose purpose in the story has been contested with insta-personality, because ‘he’s secretly a family man, ooh, twist!’ is way better than having to spend time on giving him something to do in the plot that is actually meaningful in some way. Great logic. Makes Hawkeye super dynamic, right?

Natasha, unsurprisingly, is hit much, much harder. As the only female avenger and one of only two prominent female characters in a cast which has seven-to-nine male characters of equal or greater importance/screen time (YMMV on whether or not you think Fury and Vision count for that list), the pressure is already on for Natasha to be served up a quality narrative, because if she doesn’t get one, well...she doesn’t have six-to-eight alternative characters to pull the weight for her gender. The best solve for this problem would be to avoid the ‘Token Woman’ cliche in the first place, but since we missed that boat...not having the personal story of your only primary female character revolve completely around her womanhood and her catering to heteronormative expectations of a love interest would have been a good choice. This weird, forced, chemistry-free thing with Bruce Banner? Was the worst thing they could have used to define Natasha’s presence in the film. It sticks out like a sore thumb every time they have an awkward interaction, and it leads in to that atrocious ‘monstrous infertility’ element (though that particular egregious mistake could have been included with or without a romantic blunder, it...probably wouldn’t be, and we’d all be the better off). Even the Hulk-whisperer part of the relationship - while not awful on its own with all the unnecessary romance and Unresolved Sexual Not-Tension removed - serves to highlight Natasha’s female-ness by making her the soft maternal figure for the team, because God forbid one of the other male members of the team be asked to ASMR-speak to the Hulk while delicately caressing his hand. If Natasha’s presence in the first Avengers film leaned too heavily on her gender identity as a defining trait (and it did), this movie doesn’t fix that problem at all: it doubles down on it.

The good news for most of the excess of male characters is, they by-and-large don’t feel as OOC as they did in the first film. The boorish romantic entanglement aside, Bruce Banner is still a naturalistic character highlight (all credit to Mark Ruffalo, who probably doesn’t know how to turn in a bad performance in the first place), and Thor’s dialogue is way less ridiculous this time ‘round, so he lands a lot closer to his personality from previous films simply by virtue of sounding like the same guy (unfortunately, the plot does not have the faintest idea what it wants to do with him as a character). Steve Rogers is still being written as if being Captain America is his character, which is a fundamental misunderstanding of his identity, albeit one which conveniently allows him to behave in a stereotypical self-righteously bland manner, thus avoiding the need for any nuance in his perspective or actions. This borderline fanfic-flamer ‘Captain America is my least favourite character so I’m going to write him as a boring stick-in-the-mud and then hopefully no one else will like him either!’ approach doesn’t grate quite as badly as it did in the first Avengers, and it can’t cancel out the innate level-headed charm of Chris Evans, so as disappointing as the bias is, it’s still a better balance here than it was last time. The one character who is not so flatteringly handled, however? Also happens to be the one who was arguably handled best last time, and unfortunately, he’s the one who is essentially treated as the ‘lead’.

The big problem for Tony Stark is that this movie is not interested in digging in to the pathos of any character, it’s all-flash-no-substance on that front, and Tony really, really needed a less heavy-handed slathering of ‘afraid of what might come (feat. messiah complex)’ to motivate his actions and reactions in this film, because without any exploration he’s basically just a billionaire kid playing with matches. If this were an Iron Man film (either the first or third one, anyway), we’d get into some tasty deconstruction of Tony’s mental state and confront his hubris, etc, and - crucially, most crucial of all, it’s a mainstay of all his past stories in the MCU - Tony would own up to his mistakes, listen to the advice of those around him, and take contrite steps toward fixing the problem not just in the direct sense of ‘beating the bad guy’, but also in the personal and emotional sense of working on his own flaws and making amends with the people he hurt along the way. This movie offers none of that. To begin with, Tony’s ‘I know best and I will not be taking any questions’ approach to creating Ultron feels like a significant step backwards in his character development so far (Iron Man 3 was specifically about addressing his PTSD and associated tumultuous emotions surrounding the fear of imminent alien invasion, so his reactionary and secretive behaviour in this film feels particularly out-of-touch with a mental reality Tony has been explicitly working on for the past couple of years); Tony is actively aware that it’s a bad call and thus hides it from the other Avengers until it’s too late, and then he’s bizarrely unrepentant about his mistake. Worst of all, he actually attempts to repeat that mistake, only worse, late in the film (the fact that his idiotic ‘mad scientist’ pep talk actually convinces Bruce to help him again is the weakest character moment for Bruce outside of the aforementioned romance crap). The plot rewards Tony’s second, far worse mistake, in the creation of Vision, who turns out to be ‘worthy of wielding Thor’s Hammer’ and whatnot and conveniently provides every necessary skill to defeat Ultron in a deus ex machina so overt you could use it as a textbook example, so even though Tony had absolutely no way of knowing that he’d get a good result this time and almost every reason to believe he’d just compound the existing problem, his reckless disregard for the literal safety of the planet is treated like a good thing because it happens to work out this time, and they just kinda sweep under the rug the fact that Tony is playing God (and being uncharacteristically stupid and selfish about it - in other films, Tony is normally only reckless with his own safety, and it’s when his actions spill out into unintended consequences for others that he realises the error of his ways and cues up a positive learning curve; it’s what makes him palatable). At the end of the film, once Ultron is gone and Tony has thrown some dispassionate wads of cash into ‘relief efforts’, he strolls and quips and eventually drives off into the sunset in his expensive car, with nary a mention of, I dunno, maybe a little guilty conscience? Maybe a hint of having learned a valuable lesson? The closest he gets is just suggesting that it might be time he retires from Avenging, but neither he nor anyone else lets on that there’s a need for serious self-reflection. The Tony Stark in this movie is the nightmarish male-fantasy version of the character, the playboy with the cool tech and no limits who does whatever he wants and then...literally rides off into the sunset in the end, no muss, no fuss. He’s kinda like a complete reversion to his original self, pre-Iron Man, frittering money around and designing weapons of mass destruction while convincing himself he’s bringing peace to the world one explosion at a time, but that Tony has no business here, seven years of character development down the track.

While we’re talking iffy characterisation, we should also segue into plot, and that’s something we can do easily enough by looking at our villain, Ultron. Calling Ultron an actual character feels...ambitious. He’s a CGI robot full of empty rhetoric and, you guessed it, more of those quips that this movie has in place of any meaningful dialogue. I’d call him self-fellating, but he ain’t got nothing to fellate, so instead he just blathers a lot in a manner that sounds vaguely poetically intelligent but is, upon a moment’s consideration, just vapid nonsense (much like Loki in the first Avengers, as noted above, but at least Loki had the benefit of a flesh-and-blood actor delivering his lines with conviction; James Spader does solid work as the voice of Ultron, but trying to make a CGI robot who spouts a school-kid’s attempt at edgy philosophy sound like a genuine menace is an uphill battle). Speaking of genuine menace, I assume the reason the film is called Age of Ultron is because A Couple of Days of Ultron Causing Disturbances in a Handful of Specific Locations was too much. For all the big talk (and there is..so much), Ultron doesn’t get up to all that much trouble, most notably in the sense that he apparently has his code all over the internet and yet he doesn’t bother stirring up a single ounce of chaos with that ungodly power. Why bother including this as an element of the character if it achieves zero story? Is it purely to make Ultron seem ~unstoppable~ because he keeps downloading into new robots? Because it didn’t really land, y’all. They try to play it like a big victory for the good guys when Vision burns Ultron out of the ‘net, but in context it’s meaningless because he didn’t do anything while he was there. Pretty much everything about Ultron was all talk, little to no action - even a whole bunch of the trouble he did cause happened off-screen, with Maria Hill just popping in to let us know that ‘there are reports of metal men stealing shit’. Cheers, cool. And you know, Ultron makes a song and dance about how he’s going to save the world by ‘ending the Avengers’, but then he...does not pursue that at all. He tries to make himself a pretty body, the Avengers thwart him, and then he enacts a doomsday machine to destroy all life on Earth. Like every other aspect of the character, the whole ‘end the Avengers’ schtick is just white noise, there’s no meaning in it. Ultron is just a same-old-same ‘What if Artificial Intelligence wants to WIPE US OUT?!’ cliche, and maybe that’s what he was in the comics too, I don’t know, but it’s the job of the film to tell that story in a dynamic way, and they had two and a half hours to do it. And yet.

There should be more to this than a nondescript placeholder villain concept and a series of action set pieces that just kinda happen until they stop. At least the first Avengers had some variety in each of its action sequences, using the location and the different skills and weapons of its antagonists, whereas this one is just ‘there are robots and the good guys punched and shot them until they were all broken, the end’. Even making the city fly in the end doesn’t actually make it interesting, not least because the characters spend most of their time running around the (weirdly, perfectly stable) streets not having to deal with any consequences of being up in the air anyway, and the doomsday device is too nebulous to ratchet up any real tension about figuring out how to deal with it. The conflicts with the Maximoff twins have at least some spark of life in them, but the characters themselves are treated to an over-simplified and very contrived narrative arc that uses what they do and what they know more as plot devices than as details of actual people’s lives, leading to a cheap death for Pietro so that Wanda will be distracted enough to abandon the big ol’ doomsday button, and it’s just all so convenient. There’s no heart in any of it, and it makes the moments that try to have heart all the more embarrassing and out-of-place (don’t even get me started on what a prescribed attempt at tugging the heart-strings it is to have Hawkeye name his magnificently well-timed newborn after Pietro, because DAMN). When I said I liked this movie better than the first Avengers, I meant just that: I like this better. That’s not to suggest that it is significantly better in any sense, because it isn’t, and I can’t even argue that this one has a better story, because honestly, it doesn’t. The first film made more sense, it was just less interesting to watch, and the things about it that were contrived were contrived in different ways. The first film was weaker and more irritating on character, and character is always the most important part of a story for me, so as annoyed as I am by the major character blunders in Age of Ultron, I’m still not as annoyed as I was after The Avengers. That is damning with the faintest of praise; this is just not a particularly good movie, it makes a poor use of its cast at the best of times, delivers a sub-par action extravaganza, and the script is not half as witty as it gleefully convinces itself that it is. It comes as no surprise, I’m sure, that I am very glad a certain writer/director departed the franchise after disappointing everyone with this outing. I say I like this better than the first Avengers, but gee, it’s a close call.

#Avengers: Age of Ultron #Marvel Cinematic Universe #Bechdel Test #female representation #MCU #Age of Ultron #Avengers

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