#south park rip offs are terrible

[gayhenrycreel]

i hate that "adult" animation is.... like that. dont get me wrong, i like rick n morty, its mindless and silly, but adult cartoons deserve to tell complex stories with themes and good writing. there are many mature childrens cartoons but i cant name a single mature adult cartoon. imagine if something as good as adventure time was allowed to be for adults. the new fiona and cake show is sorta for older audiences and thats as close to mature adult animation as there is. western adult animation i should specify, because anime is great at being both mature and adult. beastars and dungeon meshi are the sort of thing we could have more of if adult animation wasnt always trying to rip off south park.

[violetmuses]

Wicked - A. Aretas 🖤

Title: Wicked - A. Aretas 🖤

Fandom: “Bad Boys” Film Universe

Character: Armando Aretas

Pairing: Armando Aretas + Female Reader

Main Storyline: Following the events of “Ride or Die,” criminal Armando Aretas returns to Miami and confronts his unknown future.

Tag List: @nelo0wesker @yassbishimvintage @nobodygetsza @peaxhygirl @superstar-t20 @adoresmiles @klssngss @deja-r @hyper-trash-panda 🏷

=====

2024

The large-scale space of this crowded airport helped criminal and fugitive Armando Aretas gain coverage during his prolonged return to Florida.

Armando could stop hiding around the world. By this point in time, moving over and over again would've depleted countless resources.

When Aretas looks up, Detective Mike Lowrey grinned while choosing famous sunglasses.

After facing terrible secrets or holding various questions, Mike would take responsibility here and now stood as Armando's biological father.

“What's up? I'm parked outside.” Kind for obvious reasons, Mike pointed outdoors and led his son near Miami's warmth.

______

As Mike took his Porsche, silence greeted this ride home. Lowrey wouldn't even play music out loud while Armando joined that passenger seat.

“You good?” Mike handed that brief yet genuine question after reaching the driveway.

“Tired.” Armando clipped through slightly accented English.

“I get it. C'mon.” Mike completely understands Armando's point before entering the house.

Inside, Mike's wife Christine smiles.

“I'm glad you're here and we've already organized our guest room upstairs.” Christine gestured near the staircase of this beautiful home. “Take your time.”

“Thank you.” Armando nodded to Christine and rolled his small luggage, able to sleep without disruptions.

*****

Sunlight returned when Armando Aretas woke up the next morning. Both soft blankets and gentle pillows welcomed his exhaustion this time around.

Pulling himself together, Aretas then straightened up the guest bedroom and headed downstairs, joining Mike and Christine for breakfast.

“Good morning.” Christine and Mike greeted Armando by the kitchen table.

“Hey.” Aretas nearly sounds coy when sitting down for this meal.

Peace brightened at last.

_______

“Ready to go?” Mike stepped near the driveway once more.

“That's why I'm here, right?” Armando shrugged while joining this passenger seat again.

“Not always.” Mike cleared his throat before air conditioning started up and this Porsche left.

_______

When parking near the Miami Police Department, Mike looked toward his estranged son.

“Ripping off that band-aid.” Lowrey wouldn't offer jokes and revealed this truth instead.

“Yeah, let's go in.” Aretas braced the inevitable moment because there's no other choice.

Entering this well-known precinct, Armando trailed his steps behind Lowrey just in case people started to ask questions.

Detectives and other staff members welcomed Lowrey without realizing the presence of his “guest” until both men reached that briefing.

“Mike! Why didn't you tell me that Armando was here?” Mike's longtime partner and best friend Marcus Burnett displays theatrics while leaving his seat.

“Marcus, don't start crying. C'mon!” Mike nearly rolled both while everyone else chuckled around the room.

Even AMMO weapons expert Kelly and tech genius Dorn smiled for a moment.

But when Captain Rita Secada joined the podium this morning, everyone silenced.

No more foolishness.

******

This upcoming case involved neon paths of South Beach.

“Monsters keep running around.” Driving with Marcus and Armando, Mike takes out his Porsche by nightfall. “Let's knock these fools out. Deal?”

“Armando better not act up tonight.” Marcus grumbled warnings over Aretas.

“Shut up, Marcus!” Mike gritted his teeth while pulling to the club. “We should blend here anyway.”

“It's just your sly way of getting Armando out of the house.” Marcus just kept ranting as all three men passed this bouncer.

On the other hand, Mike stepped back and watched Armando “network.”

When Aretas joined the party, this woman smiled and Armando whispered in her ear, nearly flirtatious.

Bingo! Still watching everything, Lowrey then realized Armando's plan and headed to that VIP section once Aretas left one of those barstools.

_____

“Sup?” Mike caught Armando without hesitation en route.

“There's a drop tonight, but that leader keeps hiding.” Armando explained. Drugs would funnel around.

“Who was at the bar?” Mike snuck his personal question.

“I don't really know who she is yet. We just met each other.” Armando held back thoughts of you.

“Have fun, but don't be stupid.” Mike offered quick advice to Armando before Marcus showed up again.

“No chance. He's dead.” Marcus revealed unexpected news.

“What?” Mike and Armando scrambled down this hallway as tension grounded the night.

******

Red and blue overcasts immediately brightened the skyline this evening as neon lights still painted canvases. Law enforcement swarmed all corners.

Huddled among terrified patrons, you listened while several officers questioned everyone.

One dangerous man snuck with plans to bring garbage near the city. Drugs would have ruined everything.

Just when authorities cleared this scene and you would head home, one seemingly familiar voice called you name across the street.

You learned his own name tonight: Armando Aretas.

The handsome stranger stood in black while this gold chain shined around his neck. Deep brown eyes glanced toward you with absolute concern.

“Are you all right?” Running down this block in your favorite shoes, you throw caution to the wind and check on Armando regardless.

“Yeah, I'm good. You?” His slightly accented English broke your heart this time.

“Scared.” You still kept telling him the truth at this point.

“I know, but we'll figure this out, okay?” Aretas wanted to settle your nerves. “Call if you hear anything else.”

“Okay.” You nodded, finding a ride shortly afterwards.

Who knows what could happen next?

******

“Reaching the morgue to identify this body. It's a rough case.” Returning to the precinct with Aretas, Mike set their next plan sooner than later.

“Aw, hell no!” Marcus turned away. “Leave dead bodies with the experts, man. I'm staying right here.”

“You found the body first, Marcus.” Mike seemed fed up. “Let's go.”

_____

“Be really careful when working through places like this, man.” Mike detailed protocol for Armando. “We should never contaminate anything.”

“Got it.” Aretas nodded toward Mike and locked down concentration. There was no other option.

“How are y'all so calm?” Marcus felt dramatic as usual. “I'm getting sick already.”

“Don't you dare start with that bullshit!” Mike warned his best friend.

“Detectives?” One expert acknowledged Lowrey, Burnett, and Aretas.

Here we go. Mike thought.

______

“Excuse Burnett. He's very squeamish.” Mike informed the team over Marcus.

“The man's body was found much later than expected. Not even embalmed yet.” One professional spoke up.

“Can we at least identify this man now? Our intel claimed his work as a drug dealer.” Lowrey tried once more.

“Verification will take more time, Detective. I'm sorry.” The professional declined further scope.

“Fuck.” Mike then clenched his teeth upon realization.

Progress almost moved ten steps back with the case.

Just when everyone bid farewell and reached that Porsche, Marcus finally vomited outside!

“I can't stand your ass!” Mike drove home for the evening.

“You know damn-well that I hate dead bodies, Mike!” Marcus shouted back to defend himself.

No breakfast tomorrow. Aretas casted both eyes toward the ceiling.

_______

Back home in the guest bedroom tonight, Armando took this much-needed shower and charged his cell phone before texting you.

Armando: Hey. 🚔

You: Hi. 😴

Armando: Did I wake you up? 🚔

You: Yeah. 😴

Armando: My bad. Check again soon? 🚔

You: Of course. Good night. 😴

Armando: Good night. 🚔

*******

Only taking coffee at the precinct, Armando watched virtual screens as tech genius Dorn highlighted updates.

“Our suspect ran this massive operation until we reached that nightclub.” Dorn explained.

“Anything like James McGarth?” Mike remembered the last case with Armando.

“Nothing like McGarth, but the culprit still made a name for himself.” Dorn shook his head.

“Names?” Mike continued offering his important questions.

“Still no confirmation from the morgue.” Dorn kept refusing.

“Aight. Let's go, man.” Mike gathered his belongings and pointed toward Aretas instead, leaving.

“Hey, where y'all going?” Marcus stood from his chair, puzzled.

Ignoring Marcus, Mike grabbed keys to the classic Porsche and rolled out with Armando.

______

“Take a break.” Mike parked in front of the house this time. “I'll pull more strings and we'll reconvene soon.”

“You sure?” Armando wanted to clarify the plan just in case.

“Yeah. We pushed a lot, regardless of taking dead ends.” Mike nodded. “Get some rest. We got this.”

“Fair enough.” Armando left the car, exhausted.

_______

While settled, Armando noticed your text message first:

You: Feel better? 🫂

Armando: Can't explain everything, but I'm taking a break. ❤️‍🩹

You: That's good. 😁

Armando: When this case ends, could we hang out sometime? 👀

You: Sure. 🫂

Grinning, Armando Aretas slept while thinking of you once more.

******

“Somebody has a girlfriend.” Marcus Burnett whispered to Mike Lowrey, joking.

When Armando sees you up close again, the case ends for good, as promised.

Warm daylight greeted one public park. AMMO joined this cookout with the Miami Police Department.

No more danger. Armando refused to see you worry again.

Standing at the grill, Mike looked over his shoulder to see you chatting up a storm with Armando. Even Dorn and Kelly joined your table.

Sighing with relief, Mike knew that the future wouldn't cloud anymore.

[lynntbw]

Overall i like BoJack Horseman but the show is far from perfect mainly cuz the animation is horrendous like the overall aesthetic isn’t outright terrible or anything but the very cheap looking rigs plus the lack of any creativity in regards to how the characters move makes it a very visually unappealing show which is why it took me so long to actually give the show a chance(no joke I hadn’t seen a full episode until earlier this year), also the writing is very much a mixed bag since while i do think it handles the drama elements of its story very well for the comedy you’ll either get a clever joke that fits within the shows universe while also referencing the real world or a painfully unfunny wordplay salad and/or animal pun.

Sometimes I legit have to think about wether or not I like the show since I have some big issues with it that do take away from my enjoyment but at the same time I don’t wanna ignore its importance in being a stepping stone in animated shows aimed at adults breaking out of the Family Guy/South Park wannabe box that while still far from dead does seem to be a little less dominant compared to ten years ago when BoJack first premiered, tho it should be noted that the main reason for that is because execs discovered they can rip off Rick & Morty now so it’s arguably replaced SP as the 2nd most clone adult cartoon out there right now only behind FG obviously.

[ihearttweek]

SMUT!

“babe.” kenny quietly grunted right into clyde’s ear. it was firm. but it was playful, too. a tad whiny. “come on, shush up.” and he followed it with a long little nip to his ear. clyde frustratedly mewled into kenny’s hand. it literally wasn’t fair, it was like it was on purpose. it had to be.

he’s already cum once, all right into kenny’s palm. he’s been jerking him off and working him open on two fingers for the past- fuck. he didn’t even know how long. all this to not already have gotten dicked down yet. his legs were already horribly shaking to keep himself propped up like this into the air. his dick went limp when he came, and then kenny started coaxing him back up by whispering shit into his ear and touching him just fucking right. he was over sensitive and it was a combo of insanely good and terrible all at once.

god. fuck his stupid boyfriend for knowing how to make his brain turn to mush.

it was so. god. damn. hot. kenny came over to swim, originally. but, they never made it to the pool. kenny didn’t even let clyde get the rest of his clothes off yet. he couldn’t remember the last time south park had been this inordinately hot. and, just overall miserable. the kind of sticky wet heat that’s unbearable.

or, maybe, it really wasn’t. but regardless, the combination of his jeans sticking to his legs and having to shove his face into the pillows was making him uncomfortably sweaty. he’s been pleading kenny to just finally- fuck him what felt like hours. like just. rip his damn jeans off and have at it. he didn’t care.

but, no. kenny instead would gently kiss his cheek, or nibble on it, either or. and flat out just ignore his pleading. he usually wasn’t the adamant on teasing him. he usually would’ve been nicer, kissing and praising him so gently— and until he was cumming dry into the sheets. but he was being so mean. he couldn’t take it anymore. his head felt like it was going to explode from frustration hormones and pure need.

“jesus fuck, ken.” clyde cried into kenny’s hand, his voice hoarse and shaky. “please. you’re being so mean to me.” he babbled desperately. kenny shushed him and wiped up the tears welling up into his eyes with his coarse thumb. he licked up his neck, planting tender little kisses along the way. and then he began working his teeth into his skin, making hard enough nibbles to leave red marks.

kenny was stroked clyde’s hair back, already matted to his forehead. clyde slumped against his mattress, losing his balance. kenny kept firm on top of him. clyde let his head loll into his pillows and he groaned, mouth agape as kenny made a line to his collarbone. kenny still had one hand quite literally occupied by being up his ass, and the other busy touching everywhere else.

okay. he’s sick of it.

“ken-ny.” clyde dragged out his name, lifting his head from the pillows. “nghhh, fuck me, please. please.” kenny pressed his lips into the hollow of clyde’s throat, sucking at the stupidly sensitive flesh there, before licking and biting down lightly. clyde choked on a breath and let out a strangled sob as kenny gave one final flick of his tongue on his adam’s apple.

and finally— in a motion that was way too quick for clyde to register, kenny lifted himself from off his back and stood up, yanking clyde up in his arms with him. clyde made a small yelp. if kenny wasn’t holding him so firm, he would’ve toppled over.

“stop fucking with me!” clyde made a soft pout, peering up at kenny through his eyelashes. kenny gave him a mocking pout, jutting his bottom lip out dramatically. clyde kicked his ankle, and kenny cut it out with a little snicker.

“okay.” kenny said in a low voice, rubbing clyde’s side. “what do i have to give you to shut you the fuck up?” clyde huffed indignantly.

“dick.” clyde grumbled.

“i can do that for you,” kenny hummed, letting his fingers dance across his shoulders. “but you have to be quiet, seriously.”

oh yeah. forgot to mention, but— also, fuck his dad for being home.

they were already way on with this when clyde heard his home security go off. and kenny had pulled off from kissing him to go quickly lock the bedroom door. he started on, telling clyde that he wasn’t sure he wanted his football coach—

because, apparently, when you’re like roger donovan; unmarried, both kids are kind of losers, you go coach varsity football

— to walk into clyde’s bedroom and find kenny just wrapped up in there blowing his sons back out. and then clyde told him to never use the phrase “blowing his back out” ever again. and kenny did. so clyde smacked him.

but clyde knew it was all bullshit. kenny really did not give that much of a flying fuck about being on the football team. he was only saying it to get clyde to beg. and against his pride, clyde did. he always did. he’s gotten used to it. and he fucking likes it, too.

clyde didn’t use any words to respond, he just whimpered and grabbed for kenny’s jaw and smashed their lips together. kenny made a small grunt in approval, hungrily attacking clyde’s bottom lip while he tried to pull him down again. clyde obliged. he wanted nothing more than kenny to just pin him to the bed. fuck him nice and good.

kenny laid clyde back onto the bed, coming to plop on his knees between his legs to lift them up and pull his jeans the rest of the way off him.

“these jeans are nice, look good on you.” tug. “where’re they from?” final tug. clyde kicked them off his ankles.

“craig thrifted them for me,” kenny grabbed at his boxers, which were already pulled down halfway past his hips. kenny hummed, tugging them off his feet.

“craig is gay.” another small hum. clyde gave a slow nod, but before he got a chance to laugh about it, kenny looped his arms underneath his thighs and laid his head between them. clyde shuddered. he kissed his inner thighs gently, peering up at him. wait for it. one, two, “you should consider sitting on my face, you know? i personally think it’s a good idea.” clyde squirmed a bit, kenny’s muffled voice tickling him.

“nuh uh. i’d literally suffocate you.” he whined, and then kenny raised an eyebrow at him.

“i’d literally not care?” kiss, kiss, kiss. “y’look so good for me, doll.” clyde instantaneously flushed. he flicked his forehead.

“do not call me that. you’re cringe.” kenny gave him another look.

“hmmm, i dunno. your dick is kinda leaking on my face.” kenny grabbed the base and gently kissed the tip. all quips died off from clyde, his breath hitching.

“f-fair,” kenny started lapping around it with his tongue and clyde’s eyes rolled back. the ball of kenny’s tongue piercing was rolling around the slit. he’s already been close to orgasming again like, ten minutes ago. “ken, stop. i’m close- nhhh, shit.” he gripped onto his hair, whimpering pathetically as kenny started swallowing around him. kenny gives some of the wettest, messiest head ever and it makes clyde insane a little bit.

his dick is so fucking sensitive. kenny placed both hands on either of his thighs and went all the way down until his nose was flush against his pelvis. oh, shit. he moved his tongue around. he began gently sucking at his balls. kenny gave him a little minuscule flick of his tongue right after, sending more and more shockwaves throughout his entire body. he panted, gripping for a pillow to drown out his moans again. he whined uselessly into it, going ham with his teeth against the fabric.

his hips began stuttering, legs shaking around kenny’s shoulders. he felt the feeling of anticipated burst in his abdomen, and carefully tugged at kenny’s hair to get him off his dick, what followed was a wet pop sort of noise and a small grunt. kenny watched out of breath as clyde spurted cum all over his stomach, seeing him shake.

kenny carefully wiped his mouth, and brought his hand to trace clyde’s tummy, poking him ever so lightly. he heard clyde’s muffled mewling and groans, legs dropping and gluing themselves to the bed. kenny kissed him on the stomach.

“y’ good?” kenny chuckled a little, clyde sluggishly whacked his shoulder in response. “got anything so i can clean you up?” clyde lifted the pillow off, his face sweaty and red, hair sticking. he looked a little dazed. he muttered something of a no. he lay limp, that is until he felt kenny dragging his tongue up his stomach and he instinctively went to fold his arms over himself.

“don’t do that!” clyde whined. kenny chuckled and mockingly pouted, lazily tracing into his skin.

“it starts to smell weird though.” kenny laid his head onto his chest, chin digging into his ribs. clyde softly stroked his hair, kenny closed his eyes softly and smiled in content.

“feels weird,” he murmured. “and i don’t like you staring at me so hard.” this made kenny crack an eye open at him.

“why not!” kenny gripped onto his slightly pudgy thigh with a stray hand. “lemme see you babe, you’re hot.” he shrugged his shoulders a bit, closing his eyes again.

“stop it!” he whined, holding his arms over his tummy self consciously. and with some random surge of energy, kenny stood up and went to the headboard. “ken?” but kenny shushed him and began wedging two pillows behind it and the wall. clyde silently got himself to flip over and arch his back. eventually, kenny came behind him, gripping onto his hips and bringing them back. he shuddered when he felt kenny’s now wet dick probing his hole, rubbing between his ass. he lightly smacked one side of it.

“you should let me eat you out.” clyde impatiently whacked the mattress. kenny made a low snicker and grabbed the base of his cock and lined himself up. while rubbing slow circles into clyde’s hip comfortingly, he pushed inside slow, hesitating a little to let clyde and himself adjust. with a reassuring groan from clyde, he slowly dragged himself deeper and clyde whimpered, jolting forward a little and whining into the sheets.

the pain wasn’t all too bad, albeit he was getting fingerfucked beforehand for a good minute. but the sensation still was overwhelming, bordering off the aftershocks of his last orgasm, his body was nearing going limp completely. kenny pressed their bodies flushed together, leaning his torso over his back and wrapping his arms around his middle, letting his head hang over clyde’s shoulder. with a shaky breath, he kissed his neck once, and then his shoulder.

kenny pulled out just a bit, groaning into clyde’s shoulder. pausing for a moment, and then slamming right back in, nudging his prostate. it elicited a loud slap from their skin contact, and even worse, clyde’s bed still creaked anyway. that made them both jump back. kenny stilled for a second and clyde looked up from the pillow.

“your dad is definitely gonna hear that.” kenny whispered, immediately going to slowly pull out. clyde felt so fucking good, and he clenched impossibly tight around him as he did, not trying to let go of the feeling of finally getting to be full. he whimpered softly, grinding his hips back into nothing. “we gotta move.” kenny took a look around clyde’s bedroom.

“to where?” clyde whimpered, shifting to lay flat onto the bed. kenny hummed and the suddenly pat his back.

“the wall?” kenny rubbed his side. also, silently hoping he’d say yes. he’s been itching to try it. but, clyde merely shook his head.

“i can’t stand,” he whined and pouted. kenny nodded understandingly and leaned down to kiss his shoulder briefly. another pause to think. he pat his back again and eased off of him, standing up by the bed.

“alright, let me help you up.” clyde took his hand, and expecting to just get yanked up ( and kind of hoping, too. because god is he eager ), but kenny gently got him to stand. he walked him over to his fucking desk chair, and kenny sat down with a small little smirk. he pat his lap.

“you’re insane,” he whined, whilst still easing into his lap. kenny almost instantly got his hands on him. he very openly, and proudly, loved feeling him up. it wasn’t a secret honestly. he sucked onto his shoulder and put both hands onto his waist, digging his fingers into his soft flesh. clyde turned his head back pressed stray pecks into his cheeks.

kenny trailed his hands up, not hesitating to flick his thumb over his nipple. clyde mewled in surprise. and,“you should let me pierce these.” kenny notoriously did piercings in the school bathroom for cash. he also did all of his own, and would always try to talk clyde into letting him do one. it was always a no.

“im not letting you pierce my fucking nipples!” kenny fake pouted for a moment, and then he stole a little peck from clyde. clyde huffed, and began to grind slowly back onto his dick impatiently. kenny gripped him tighter and softly whimpered, his eyes drooping. clyde gripped his jaw and pecked his lips. kenny rubbed circles into his hips.

“you don’t wanna face me?” kenny’s voice was a little softer than before.

“you want me to?” kenny nodded sheepishly and clyde snorted. he maneuvered his body around and kenny instantly wrapped his arms around him again so they could be as close as possible. clyde pressed messy kisses along his jawline, lifting his body up a little so he would be able to reach under himself. he linked his fingers around the base of kenny’s cock and dropped his hips over it to position it correctly, and carefully slid down on him, shuddering and his mouth agape.

kenny immediately just kissed him. mainly to cut off any noises. saying in love is cheesy and all but kenny definitely was a tad insane about clyde. surprisingly, clyde started instantly rocking back and forth on his dick, kenny continually swallowing all his whimpers and moans. he eventually shrugged out a shoulder for clyde to instead rest his head into to quiet his noises.

when clyde pulled away, kenny looked up at him, tears in his dazed out eyes spilling down his cheeks, lips parted. kenny kissed away a tear. when they first started having sex, clyde had to reassure him for a while that him crying wasn’t because he was in pain. he said it was because he felt good, but kenny also knows he’s sensitive in general. it was easy to overwhelm him. the pure vulnerability of it was so indescribably sexy. and hearing him groan and cry on his cock was absolutely wonderful.

“you’re doing so good.” kenny rasped. he kissed his tear stained cheeks over and over. “so good.” clyde slumped over and pressed his nose into the crook of his neck. kenny just kept his hands onto his waist, rubbing into his sides. clyde continued to slam down onto him, his body trembling more and more each time. kenny wasn’t sure how long he was gonna last.

clyde, on the other hand, took just a few more thrusts to still completely and bite down roughly into his shoulder. his cry was muffled. he came all over kenny’s stomach, writhing and letting tears fall onto his shoulder. kenny groaned at how much tighter he became, putting his hands under his thighs. he took a second before starting to bounce him slowly on his dick.

“kenny, kenny,” he sobbed into his shoulder. kenny grunted and shushed him, kissing the side of his face and slowing down his thrusts. clyde’s breath evened out eventually, the only sound being the soft slap of their skin coming into contact with each other. when clyde relaxed back down into his lap, kenny’s finger traced lazy circles on his lower back. clyde sighed and bit his lip. his body felt like jelly.

“almost done, babe.” kenny said between his teeth. clyde murmured something, coming up to look at him with bleary eyes. “you’re so cute.” that made clyde furrow his brows at him.

“cute is a weird word,” he whined between pants. “i am not cute.”

“yeah you are. you might think you’re all handsome and buff— and you are for sure,” he grinned a bit. “one of those things.” clyde smacked his arm weakly. “but you’re like— also cute, y’know?” clyde shook his head.

“whatever.” clyde mumbled. “you’re st— fuck.” he let that part slip out too loud. kenny had bucked his hips up faster and deeper. it took clyde by surprise. “kennny!” kenny snickered a little.

“sorry.” he just continued bouncing him up and down, not even letting him respond. clyde involuntarily tightened around him, sputtering whines and sobs. his mind blanked. his thrusts we’re getting sloppier as his chest started to get tight, his own legs shaking. he was close.

kenny wrapped a hand around clyde’s half limp dick, stroking the underside with his thumb. clyde’s body recoiled and he shook, completely overstimulated. he just whimpered louder into his neck.

“you feel so good,” kenny groaned. he tilted his hips up again, grinding into clyde relentlessly. “so good for me, such a good boy. fuck,” he panted next to clyde’s ear. with a drawn out groan, he buried his face into clyde’s hair and came. clyde shuddered, mouth going slack. clyde fucking came dry, dick twitching and drooping to rest in the puddle of his own cum on kenny’s stomach.

kenny tipped his head back, breathing hard and digging his nails into clyde’s skin. clyde body became flaccid, clinging loosely to kenny. he was successfully and totally fucked out. he giggled a little dazedly, feeling loopy and really, really weirdly warm. kenny sighed, patting him on the ass absentmindedly.

he began to lean back, oddly, it felt like the ground was slipping from under them.

wait. shit.

clyde yelped as the chair fell back. the crash that it elicited was obscenely loud. and it hurt. clyde heard a door from down the hall open.

“clyde?” footsteps approached quickly. kenny’s eyes went a little wide and he shook his leg from out the chair. “clyde, are you okay?” his dad knocked on the door.

oops.

[stormy-caffeine]

Needed more space for my thoughts than replies allow and didn't wanna bog down the thread, this is related to my last reblog (about South Park being terrible and people shitting on its fans).

___________

I genuinely love watching South Park.

If I need something on in the background or just something to watch and turn my brain off to, I will always choose it.

Does that mean its any good? No.

Does it have good rep for minorities? No.

Does it have any good messages directly stated literally ever? No!

Some episodes are pure satire on modern society while others are just intentionally mean, either to a group or only one person, and I feel like both routes are pretty clearly done in each episode. It's fairly rare (though not impossible, obviously) to find an episode of SP in the recent seasons that isn't an identifiable satire on a situation or political climate or pop cultural /thing/ going on. Also rare to watch an episode and not understand exactly what they're making fun of: racists, homophobia, religion, politics, health fads, rich people, bad parenting, poor government oversight, failing education systems, the list goes on.

Keep in mind, even when they're making fun of something objectively bad, like racists and homophobes, they usually only have one (1) voice of reason MAXIMUM in the episode. If any, at all. The rest of the town, or some one-off characters, are usually going to perpetuate some terrible thing related to the plot that day. They may even make it look like the town agrees with the bad take, potentially even making it true for the rest of the series. Canonically, the entire town is extremely judgemental and xenophobic, there is literally no argument for them not being that way. It's shown multiple times.

The reason I don't mind any of this is because zero characters in South Park are inherently good, non-flawed people. Even the "good guys" in the show are very openly displayed as pieces of shit multiple times throughout the series.

Whether it's from the earlier seasons and all the kids are just snot-nosed kids who don't know any better or in the later seasons where the adults, who are supposed to be the good examples for them, make horrific and baffling decisions on how to handle even minor inconveniences in the town.

EVERY person in South Park is a flawed, usually downright terrible, human being. And. That. Is. The. Point.

If South Park wanted to be Family Guy and have "good" protagonists, they would keep all of the flaws in their main cast but back-fill each one of them with relatable and well-meaning traits also. They would be normal, classic, non-malicious but still very flawed and destructive people, just like in Family Guy and American Dad and every rip-off of them ever made. Some characters have that, sure, but sparingly. Most don't even get a single good quality about them, or if they do they somehow take it to such an extreme that it's almost worse than the bad qualities entirely.

They don't want to make a show with a great message every episode (despite also parodying that in some earlier seasons, when the kids acted more like kids), they wanted to make a comedy show that depicts the absolute worst, hell-spawned, unjustifiable, batshit insane town of people that still clearly represent everything wrong in our modern society.

Yes, they have racism directly in the show. They WANT you to see that it's racist and bad.

Yes, they have ableism directly in the show. They WANT you to see that it's ableist and bad.

Yes, they have "insert-literally-any-ism-you-can-think-of" in the show and very proudly display it for all to see and critique and shit on. Because they want you to see it and shit on it and know it's bad.

That is the intention of each and every minute of every episode.

Even in the episodes where it ends with a message that should be encouraging, "just be yourself" "treat others how you want to be treated" "despite our differences we're all the same inside" etc, it's usually undermined by the context being so warped and otherwordly that it basically can't be applied to a normal scenario anymore. The characters learned something but they and the town didn't improve as people or a collective. They are too flawed to ever be redeemed, because they are only ever going to be our worst aspects.

Again, does that make the show inherently good? Absolutely not! You can hate the show, you can get sick of its bad jokes and bad representation, you can wish it stopped airing by now and you can wish that it was never made in the first place.

But shitting on people who even passively enjoy the show is just not a good take. People like things for different reasons.

If someone loves South Park because they feel joy from seeing someone be a racist bigot, yes absolutely call out that person. But liking South Park at all is not a sign of this.

If someone loves South Park because even the worst jokes still point out how insane it is to think that day's -isms are justified somehow, in a lighter tone than we currently get while doom-scrolling, I see nothing wrong with that.

Every day for at least the last decade has seemed like a parade of terrible news and horrific people rising to power or enacting some terrible law/getting out of justice for violating the law. It's mind-numbing and terrifying to think about for extended periods. And sure, we can't avoid the bad shit going on, but at least digesting it in a lighter tone for a short time makes it more bearable while you're still thinking about it.

Aside from literally all of that... It's just a show. It's not trying to be something great and important, it's there to entertain people. LET people be entertained by it and give the people having to sit down and animate it a paycheck.

If you don't like it, just ignore it. Don't watch it. Don't follow people who watch it/post about it. Don't seek it out just to shit on it more. Just. Ignore it.

Even me, someone who likes the show, knows that inevitably it will have to stop being made at one point. There will be a last episode and no more channels/streaming services running it one day. Just wait it out and you'll have one less thing to be mad about.

In the meantime, let people who can find a spark of joy in the bleak void just... have it for a moment. It's not a big deal.

[troublcmakcrs]

It surprised Tweek to hear the coffee had gone stale because it could last for a while if maintained in the right conditions.  He smiled slightly at the news because even though he had had heaps and heaps of coffee around him for his entire life, so much more than just a small tin, he had never once seen any of it go stale.  “I’ve never had stale coffee,” he said.  “It might be funny to try it just for the experience.”  Sometimes, you had to eat nasty things on purpose.  One of the better memories he had with Craig was sitting outside a candy store while the other gagged around some disgusting novelty candy that his pride wouldn’t let him not try.  Tweek hadn’t been stupid enough to experiment back then, but for coffee, he would consider it.

“No, I know that, too, about tea.  I’ve also tried different kinds, and I like the bitter black ones the best.  But I probably… heh… wasn’t making it right, either, so I’d try it again, made how you make it.  I bet it’d be better that way.”  Tweek was the same with tea as Pip was with coffee.  He had heard of different ways to make it, but he had never gotten terribly experimental despite that.

Exactly, though—that was why Tweek had turned to Pip: because he knew how terribly the other had been bullied.  He seemed more or less okay now, and Tweek was glad for that, happy that South Park’s general aura hadn’t crushed the niceness out of the guy.

But he still knew better than to jump right into the deep end because even Pip was sure to have limits, and he couldn’t talk about his crazy off the bat.  He tried to find something more innocuous but which people still judged him for.  “Well… I left home,” he said.  “I didn’t move out, I just… left…”  It was the most subtle way he had of mentioning that he was homeless, aside from the general state of his appearance, his ripped jeans and all the dust on his coat.  “So, that’s definitely been… an adjustment.”  He laughed shakily and picked at his coffee cup’s sleeve.  “I’ve been having trouble… finding my footing, I guess, and it’s… got me frustrated.  So, sorry for… dumping s-stuff on you more or less unexpectedly.”

"Well, I could offer you coffee, but I'm afraid mine went stale." Pip smiled sheepishly. He kept a small jar of coffee for whenever someone visited; he might prefer tea, but he wasn't about to exclude his friends. Philip tasted coffee exactly once in his life and it was plenty enough for him to make his pick. Some of his friends tried to convince him to give spiced blends a try but he's yet to give in. Even Pip had to admit that some of the names sounded good, he was just mistrustful of the coffee part.

Pip nodded at his words, finding some hope in it; perhaps there was a chance to convince Tweek to drink something different for a change. Not that he had experience, but Pip thought that perhaps it would help ease him to try more of a relaxing drink. He wouldn't force him of course, but he had such a big selection of teas there might be something just to fit Tweek's taste. "You know, there's more than just plain black tea," he suggested, then let him continue.

"I've been given weird looks my whole life mate, I get how that must feel for you," Pip said softly and sighed. He knew better than to feel spiteful about those looks or treatment he received during his childhood, but somewhere deep it still hurt, from time to time. He wasn't one to judge, no matter how odd the person in front of him would be. Not only was it natural to him, but from experience, he knew that it feels awful to be judged and he swore to never make anyone feel that way "You can tell me as much as you feel like telling, it might be as little or as much as you want. You have my word, I won't judge you." he promised, offering him a warm, welcoming smile. That much was true, the rule was simple; don't treat others in a way you don't want to be treated. Pip rarely experienced such honesty but he wasn't one to take the reassurance away from those who needed it. Some people needed it more than Pip did, or so he thought.

[dear-galileo]

jaskier and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

the 4th part in my runaway baby series is now up on my ao3! its modern au with baby!ciri, single parent geralt, and struggling artist jaskier

jaskier has a terrible day, but geralt has a few ideas on how to help. ciri tries out some new names.

pure fluff, fluff, and nothing but fluff, 3.6k words, no warnings

read the entire piece here

Jaskier was having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. Yes, just like the book. His day was made incredibly much worse when he made the reference to the book, only for his high schooler co-worker to say, “what, like the movie?”

It was simply a miracle that Jaskier didn’t voluntarily stick his hand in the blender before his shift was out. 

But his shift was- thankfully, blissfully- done. All that was left was to ride the humid and dank subway, walk the three blocks to his apartment, pray that the air conditioner was working, walk up the stairs, and hopefully fall asleep for the foreseeable future. 

That plan was immediately derailed when he stepped out of Starbucks, still stuffing his apron into his bag, and ran straight into a brick wall- a familiar, breathing brick wall, but a brick wall nonetheless. 

Geralt caught Jaskier by the elbows before he could tumble down, and steadily righted him. 

“Fuck!” Jaskier yelped, regardless. He looked up into Geralt’s infuriatingly handsome face, and repeated himself, for good measure. “Fuck!” 

Jaskier looked down, and noticed the neat button up shirt that Geralt had tucked into a fancy pair of slacks. Geralt’s hair was tied up neatly into a small bun on the back of his head, with only a few strands of white hair dangling in his face. He immediately remembered what day it was. 

“Fuck!” 

Geralt, still holding onto Jaskier’s elbows, frowned. 

“What?” 

“Fucking-” Jaskier said. He ripped his arms free to gesticulate wildly. A passing man had to duck to avoid being slapped in the face. “Fucking everything! Today!” 

“Today?” Geralt repeated. He snatched Jaskier’s hand out of the air and laced their fingers together. “Truck?” 

“Truck.” Jaskier sighed, nodding. He followed Geralt across the street to where the familiar truck was parked. They were technically jay-walking, but Geralt was such a beast that Jaskier was fairly certain that a car would bounce off of his pecs, if they dared to try it. 

Ciri’s carseat was still in the back, but was void of any blond-haired baby. Jaskier felt momentarily relieved, and then immediately guilty, as if he was betraying his best friend (who was a baby) for not wanting her around. 

Geralt got behind the wheel, but didn’t start the car. Instead, he handed Jaskier a miraculously still cold bottle of water, and a granola bar. Jaskier shoved both down his face in what could have only been an extremely unattractive way, but Geralt kept his focus on him. 

“What happened?” Geralt asked. Jaskier took another gulp of the water and sighed. Now that he was properly hydrated, and good enough of a distance away from the hell that is Starbucks, he didn’t feel like he was going to punch the next person he saw. This was a good thing, because the person who was right in front of him was actually very sweet, and probably had a face made out of steel that would break Jaskier’s hand if he tried to punch it. 

“I had to come in early, because Clara called out, most likely because she was too hung over from the party she posted about on her Snapchat about, which meant that I had like, ten minutes from when I woke up to get ready for work, because otherwise Trevor would have had to open by himself, and I’m not sure if the man is even humanly capable of turning the keys in the lock himself. So I get to work, and of course, someone forgot to mark half of the shit that went expired, so on top of trying to get rid of the expired shit, and trying to prevent the trainees from using the expired shit, I also was still the one competent person on shift, which meant I had to handle it whenever customer interactions went south, which, of course, they did. There’s this new TikTok trend where people specifically order the hardest to fucking blend shit- I thought we were going to lose all of the blenders in one fell swoop. Did I mention that I had to come in early, and had about five minutes to enjoy scalding hot coffee before the hoardes came in? On top of that, my feet fucking hurt, because I wore the wrong shoes, and-”

“Jaskier.” Geralt cut in. Jaskier paused, wondering if he had said too much, overstepped or just totally dumped onto Geralt, but the man was still looking at him, his eyes soft. “Breathe.” 

read the rest on my ao3!

[even-after-a-millennia]

look out with me at this beauty

For @nilefreemanweek2021 and the prompt Childhood.  While protesting a pipeline, Nile sees something in the distance that reminds her of a family vacation she took as a child.  You can read it below or over on my ao3 account here. Gen | Rated G | 1.7k

“You would think,” Nile said in disgust, “that after how many times these things have broken, we wouldn’t have to be right here, protesting them making yet another pipeline.”

“Profits before the people,” Andy said drily from where she was standing next to Nile.

“Ughhhhhhhh,” Nile groaned.

Nicky and Joe returned from giving out water and food to the other protestors and handed over the remaining bottles and granola bars.  Nile ripped one open and tore a bite off viciously.

She looked out, past the line of police officers that were attempting to intimidate her and the other protestors standing in the path of the pipeline.  In the distance, she could see a piece of higher land going up into the sky.  She squinted, but it didn’t become any clearer.

“Hey, guys, what’s that?” she asked, pointing at it.

Andy looked over.  “Oh.  I remember that place.  We were here in the… uh, late 1800s?  Trying to push back the expansion of settlers onto the native people’s land.  The tribes in the area had many names for it, but the one I remember is Bear Mountain.”

“Bear Mountain…” Nile muttered, pulling out her phone.  She typed “Bear Mountain South Dakota” into the search bar and started reading the results.  “Oh,” she said quietly.

“What is it, Nile?” Nicky asked.

“It’s also called Bear Butte.”

She swallowed, then said, “My family and I went there when I was a kid.”

“Would you like to tell us about it?” Nicky asked.  He kept one eye on the police, but turned most of his attention to Nile.

The others did the same, settling in for the long haul.

_____________________________________

The field of sunflowers whipped past Nile’s window and to her ten-year-old brain, they seemed to go on forever.  Jordan was kicking the back of her mom’s seat and she turned to look at him and said, “Child, if you don’t want to walk there, you will stop that right now.”

He stopped, pouting.

“I’m bored,” he said.

“Look outside, Jordan!  You can see forever!” Nile said, trying to distract him.

It worked for a few minutes, but then he was kicking again.  Nile’s mom looked at the ceiling of the van, and Nile knew that her patience was being tested.

“Hey Jordan, I spy with my little eye, something that starts with the letter S,” Nile said.

Nile’s mom sent her a smile, which Nile returned.

He looked around, taking in the options.  “Sky?” he asked.

“Nope!”

“Street?”

“This is a highway, dummy.”

He frowned and opened his mouth to retaliate, but she just said, “C’mon, you can get it!  It starts with S!”

Jordan looked out the window and brightened.  “SUNFLOWERS!” he shouted at the top of his lungs.

Nile nodded as her parents took deep breaths, then let them out.

“Your turn!” she said.

Their game lasted another hour, then they stopped at a rest area to go to the bathroom.  Jordan climbed on the playground while Nile swung on a swing in the kid’s area, as their parents watched from one of the nearby park benches.

They had been driving since early that morning, but her parents had warned that they wouldn’t arrive at the hotel until late.  

“So no swimming?” Nile had asked, trying not to pout.

Her dad had laughed.  “Maybe not the first night, but I promise we will swim before we come home.”

She nodded, satisfied.

They were going to Bear Butte in South Dakota.  Jordan had giggled when he had seen how close butte was to butt.  That had started a conversation about how this was a sacred place for the Native Americans in the area, and while the Freeman’s were there, they were to treat the place with respect.

“Dad, if it’s for Native Americans, why are we going there?” Nile had asked, brow furrowed.

“A few guys in my division went there when they were in Sturgis for a big motorcycle rally.  Said that it was a beautiful area and that you could feel the history and spirit of the place in the air.  I want to see it for myself,” he explained.

Nile didn’t really get it, but she nodded anyway.

Luckily, Jordan had tired himself out on the playground, so he crashed for a while after they got back in the van.  Nile pulled out Maniac Magee, the book one of her teachers had recommended at the end of the school year, and began to lose herself in between its pages.

They stopped for food somewhere in South Dakota, but still had a few hours to go.  It was getting dark, the sun setting over the fields as they flashed by, and Nile was entranced by the colors streaking across the sky.  She pulled out her folder of paper and tried to recreate it with her colored pencils, but the road was bumpy and the colors didn’t do it justice.

Her dad insisted on putting it on the dash anyway.

“Anyone looking at this vehicle will know that there is an artist on board,” he said, smiling at her.

Even Nile was dozing by the time that they pulled into the hotel parking lot.  She dragged Jordan behind her, holding onto his hand, until they could get up in the room.

“Whoa…” she said, looking around.

There were two queen sized beds, a giant tv, a microwave, and a fridge in the room.  She went to get on the bed, but her mom said, “Wait a minute.”

She took the covers off and put them to the side.

“Alright, now you can get on.  But no jumping.  There are people below us,” she said.

Nile frowned.  Well, that stopped what she was going to do.

Jordan and Nile got one bed and her mom and dad took the other.  They had waffles for breakfast and Jordan thought the machine that made them was the coolest thing.  Her dad had actually made the waffles, but he had let Jordan flip the griddle, which he did with glee.

They drove a little bit out of town and parked.  Nile’s dad shouldered the backpack that Nile’s mom had packed full of water, sunscreen, and snacks.

“Remember, you two, do not touch the pieces of cloth on the trees.  They are prayer cloths and they are not to be disturbed.  Do not go off the path.  And try to be respectful and quiet.  Okay?” their dad said.

They nodded, and set off.

It was a gentle slope upwards at first, and then they were pushing themselves up the hills.  There were a lot of trees right by the trail, and Nile watched as the pieces of fabric tied to the trees swayed in the breeze.  They were pretty.

Then they reached a flatter area with a wooden railing and looked out to see down the hill and out into the fields beyond.

“Cool…” Nile breathed, taking it all in.

They kept going, and Nile eventually stopped looking ahead and just kept looking around, taking in all the trees and grass and fields around her.  They crested a hill and Nile looked down the hill and suddenly stopped.

“Dad, why do the trees look like that?” she asked.

There were many trees that were on their sides, barkless and white against the grass.

“There was a fire here in the late 90’s that burnt up a lot of the trees.  The grass has grown back, but the trees couldn’t be saved,” he explained.

“Oh,” she said, feeling a sadness she couldn’t really explain.  This was all so beautiful.  It hurt to see the remnants of destruction here.

“Hey,” he said gently, kneeling beside her.  “Look at it this way.  All of this,” he said, gesturing to all the nature around them, “went through something terrible, and it managed to come back from that.  I think that’s inspiring more than anything.  What do you think?”

Nile thought about it, then nodded.

“Good,” he said.  “C’mon, Nile.  I hear the view from the top is incredible.”

It took a long time for them to get there.  They had to stop for water breaks a bunch and a snack break too.  But then they finally took the steps to the wooden platform at the top of the Butte and Nile and Jordan ran to the railing to look out over everything.

“Whoa…”

Nile had thought that she could see for miles before.  But it was nothing compared to how far she could see now!  She and Jordan ran from one side of the platform to the next, looking out at the different angles and what they could see from each.

Eventually, the novelty wore off, and they settled on one of the benches for a few more snacks and some water.

Nile’s dad was still standing at the railing, and Nile joined him after she finished eating.

They didn’t say anything for a while, just looked out together as the wind rushed over them.  She leaned into his side and his arm came around her, holding her there.  Any chill she would have felt from the breeze was lost in the warmth from her dad’s body.

“This is the kind of thing that I fight to protect,” he said softly.

If Nile wasn’t so close to him, she might not have heard him.  

“It’s really pretty,” she agreed.

He blinked, and looked down at her.  “I fight to protect you too, my little river,” he said, pulling one of her braids lightly.

They grinned at one another, the moment broken, then left the railing and its beautiful view behind them.

__________________________________

They had done more on the trip, had even gone swimming in the pool at the hotel.  But that first day was the thing that stuck most in Nile’s brain, years later.

“Turns out, that was the last time my dad was home before he was killed in action,” Nile finished.  “So I’m glad we got to have that time.”

“I am glad we are here,” Nicky said thoughtfully.  “Protecting this view the two of you looked out on.”

Nile’s heart clenched, but she nodded.

“He died fighting for places like this,” she said.  She turned to the police officers who were closing in.  “Let’s make sure none of these people do the same.”

[sxngshine]

Phobia

• Pairing: Chan x reader

• Word Count: 4.26k+

• Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

• Warnings: a bit of drinking, car sex, oral(M receiving), unprotected sex(wrap it up), switch!reader, dom!Chan idk what else but don't read if you don't like smut.

• Summary:idk how to explain without spoiling shhsshhs just read it.

• Notes: This was a long overdue story dedicated to @braveshin djsjxs. I had it half done but then went ia but now I'm kinda back so here you go🤧🤧. This is my first full/complete smut so apologies for the lack of knowledge in that part lmao. Happy reading💞! [Edited but possible mistakes lemme know if I missed smtn]

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

You hadn't seen him in ages. After you both confessed to each other you thought everything would be all rainbows and peaches between the two of you. And to be honest it was. But then there was just one issue, the both of you were super awkward when it came to intimacy.

You always had the regular kisses and hand holding and hugs like every other couple. But the issue was that neither of you tried to go father in fear that the other wouldn't like it or would be uncomfortable.

That was 2 years ago. Now the both of you live separate lives without each other. He had gotten his dream job as an artist, you saw him on TV quite a lot and it made you miss him even more.

You got your dream job as well, one that allowed you to travel a lot and on the side you were a well known content creator. People admired you for being able not only work through a super busy schedule, but also create original content for your viewers.

The both of you had tried maintaining a long distance relationship, but you felt like you were drifting away from him because of your busy schedules and being unable to talk. You had enough of it one day, missing him and hating that he was never around anymore.

In the end, you both decided to stay friends but lost contact with each other in a matter of months.

There were many regrets that you had, many things you wish you had said and done but it was too late now. You never even once told him that you loved him properly and you always wished you could go back in time to tell him.

After so long, you would think you'd finally be over him, but here you are sitting in a club drinking your problems away.

You didn't really want to be here, you were on break for a few days and wanted to mope around your apartment after seeing him perform his newest album , but your friend dragged you here with a hope of loosening you up and after getting you to drink 6 shots of whatever concoction she stirred up, it started to work.

You didn't drink too much though, enough to get your mind off of things but not enough to be super hungover the next day.

You expected the night to go by with you sitting alone with your glass of whatever your friends gave you as you watched your people dance too close too each other.

What you didn't expect though, was to see him walk through the door. You were beyond shocked, what's he doing here?

It looked like his old group of friends dragged him here. You watched him discretely -or at least tried to- as he looked around the place with clear distaste in his eyes, wanting to be anywhere else except here. But the moment his eyes met yours, all those thought flew out of his head like they were never there in the first place. Your eyes widened and it was like time had stopped.

The harsh music in the background was nonexistent at this point and the other people disappeared. It was just you and him. His friends went to go find a vacant table but he made his way over to you instead.

You looked away and prayed he wouldn't come over but it was useless because in a matter of moments, you were faced to face with the one and only person you were trying to forget about.

"Y/N? Is it really you?" He asked, clear surprise in his eyes.

"Hey... Chan," you greeted, smiling nervously as you looked anywhere but his eyes.

"How're you? I haven't seen you for so long I almost didnt recognize you! You look so different," He exclaimed.

It was true, you completely changed your look after the both of you lost touch. Your once short hair was now at your waist, the once all black and baggy wardrobe was replaced with bright, slightly more fitting clothes (you were quite sad but you loved your new clothes so it was okay). You held yourself high with confidence which was foreign to him because you were normally so shy.

His eyes raked over your outfit, you wore a tight sparkly navy blue dress that ended mid thigh. Your shoulders and collarbones bare due to the skinny straps and low neck.

You couldn't help but look him over as well. He was clad in black ripped skinny jeans and a black tshirt, blonde hair untamed on his head. His chains sparkled under the flashy lights of the club and his leather jacket was doing his arms wonders. In other words, he looked hot. But you couldn't just say that.

After shamelessly checking each other out for a solid 2 minutes Chan cleared his throat.

"So uh, mind if I sit down?" He asked, giving you a small smile in which you returned with a nod.

The both of you started catching up, talking about your accomplishments and old memories you shared. You wanted to get some fresh air after a bit so the both of you grabbed your things and walked outside, the cool air sending pleasant shivers up your spine. You strolled down to the parking lot and Chan offered to drive you around in his car which you accepted.

"If you don't mind, can I take you somewhere?" He asked, after a few moments silence.

You nodded and Chan drove you both to wherever he wanted to take you. Fifteen minutes later the both of you arrived at a cliff that overlooked the city.

You remembered it being a place you and Chan visited often during the night, the city sparkling under you as the both of you goofed around. You had made many memories here.

"You still remember this place?" You asked, getting out of the car and walked over to the edge, leaning against the railing. "I haven't been here in ages!"

"How could I forgot? This was an important place to me." He answered, coming up beside you, looking over at the city illuminated by thousands of lights.

Then a silence fell upon the two of you. You didn't feel the need to say anything, just enjoying the silence and the distant buzz of the city. It was... comforting.

"I missed you Channie, I missed you a lot." You said out of nowhere. You weren't looking at him, but you could tell he was looking at you. The alcohol was getting to you but you didn't mind, needing the extra confidence.

"Ever since you left, I started regretting not doing so many things. I never got to tell you how much you meant to me, how important you were. I wish I could've told you how much I loved you and cared about you. How I never actually wanted to break up and how broken I became when we did," you felt tears form in your eyes as you poured your heart out to him.

"I said I was doing great before but I lied, I spent a good month locked in my room just crying. I was such a mess and then we just stopped talking and my whole world just broke apart and I just-" your voice cracked as tears now fell freely down your cheeks. You bent down and buried your face in your hands, sobbing hard.

Chan was so caught off guard with your confession, but he knew right now wasn't the time for him to be acting like that. He bent down beside you and pulled you into a hug, allowing you to cry as much as you needed while he rubbed your back.

When he felt like you had mostly calmed down, your hard sobs turning into small sniffles and hiccups, he released you from the hug.

"Y/N, look at me," he said, his hand coming towards your face. You reluctantly looked up at him, your eyes red and puffy with mascara running down your cheeks.

"When I left, it took everything in me not to just drop everything and stay. I was in a terrible state when we broke up, my members kept saying I looked like a literal zombie. There were so many times where I was gonna call you but backed away cause I thought you wouldn't want to talk anymore," he admitted.

"R-really?" You stuttered, trying to even out your breathing.

Chan nodded, his eyes flickering to your lips before going back to your eyes.

"Can I-" Chan tried to say but was cut off by your lips smashing into his. He wasn't prepared for it and fell back from the force, pebbles digging into his palms.

But Chan could care less, the only thing on his mind was how soft your lips felt against his. All that built up tension between the two of you had resurfaced and neither one of you were going to stop till you were relieved.

The both of you pull away after a long heated kiss, looking deeply into each others eyes.

"Wanna continue at my place?" Chan asked, breathing heavily. You shook your head and moved off of him.

"That'll take too long and I'm not in the mood for waiting." You said, standing up before lending him a hand.

Chan was surprised by your response but it turned him in even more. "Car?" He asked, taking your hand.

You nodded and dragged him to the back seat of his car, opening the door before pushing him in gently. Once he was in you climbed in after him and closed the door.

Wasting no time, you crawled onto his lap and cupped his cheeks. "Are you okay with this?" He whispered.

You nodded, whispering a small yes and kissed him again, your lips moulding together in perfect sync. You both of you have shared kisses before, but they were only light pecks, nothing more than that. If you knew kissing Chan would feel like this you would've done this a lot earlier.

Chans hands, which rested on your waist started travelling south to your ass and squeezed. You gasped into the kiss and he used the opportunity to push his tongue into your mouth.

He moaned as his tongue explored your wet and warm cavern, your tongues swirling around in unison. Chan lowered you onto the seat, hovering over you as he groped your ass.

Your arms were tightly wrapped around his neck, fingers pulling at his hair. You were in such a euphoric state you didn't realize that Chans hands had left your ass and were now removing the straps of your dress.

He moved to sit up so that he could see your half naked body, dress pooled at your hips and everything else exposed for his eyes to take in and admire. "Fuck you look so gorgeous.." Chan cursed before diving into your neck, leaving dark bruises all over your throat and collar bones.

"Chan.... take it off," you mumbled, pulling on his jacket as he attacked your neck. "I don't want to be the only nude one here,"

Chan quickly sat up and began removing his jacket, throwing it to some random corner in his car. He had been distracted trying to remove his shirt, and you took the opportunity to switch things around.

Before Chan could process what was happening, you had flipped him over onto the seat and straddled his legs, looking down at him with a mischievous smirk as you ran your nails down his solid abs, causing a shiver to run up his spine.

"What're you-" he tried to protest but you shushed him by placing your finger to his lips.

"I may have seemed like I'd submit to you before , but that's not the case here baby boy. I can dom quite well too," you winked at him, licking your lips at you took in his smooth pale skin and hard muscle. "Let me show you how much I love you too,"

You're head sunk down to press a soft kiss to his forehead. "Just relax and let me do the work," you whispered into his ear.

Chan decided to obey your wish for now, wanting to see where this would go. He was becoming harder every passing second as he felt your hand trace his abs and your mouth do wonders to his neck and chest, leaving hickeys all over.

You ground your clothed heat against his covered crotch and it was driving Chan crazy. "Quit teasing me and take it off already," he rasped.

You smirked and moved away from him. "Yes sir," you whispered, softly grinding your hips to his as you took your time unbuckling his belt. Chan had about enough of your teasing and quickly sat up, pushing you down onto the seat once again.

He glared at you as he quickly pulled down his pants, bringing his boxers down with it and brought a little relief to his rock hard cock.

You gawked at how large it was and Chan sat down on the seat, legs spread. "Put that pretty mouth to use babygirl," he demanded.

You knew exactly what he wanted and moved to first remove your dress off your hips, leaving you in just your panties. Grabbing his red and hard cock, you pumped it a few times before pressing a soft kiss to the angry red tip, eliciting a moan from Chan's mouth.

You licked a stripe from the base of his shaft back to his tip before taking it into your mouth. Chans fingers threaded into your hair and held the strands tight, pushing you all the way down his dick so your nose was touching his pelvis. Chan let out a loud groan, tip hitting the back of your throat as he pulled it out then back down your throat.

You felt tears prick your eyes has Chan showed no mercy to your throat. Your scalp was sore from the vice grip he had on your hair but you liked it, feeling your core become wetter than it was before.

You felt Chan twitch in your mouth but he pulled you off before he could come, hissing to himself as he held his orgasm in. When he felt as if he could continue without cumming with one touch he quickly motioned you to lay down once again

"You can show me how much you love me some other time babygirl, but right now I'm in charge," Chan said, hovering over your body once again.

His lips attached to your breast, rolling his tongue over the hard bud as his fingers hooked around your panties. He removed his lips from you at ask you for permission which you nodded to.

Instantly his mouth returned to working its magic on your nipples as he pulled your panties down your legs. He dropped them onto the floor, fingers slowly caressing up from your calves to your thighs, ghosting where you needed him the most.

He switched to your other nipple, once again ghosting over your core and you let out a small whimper. "Chan.. please I need you," you whined.

"I don't know... I'm having fun teasing you like this," Chan mused, moving his head away from your chest. He finally looked down at your core and smirked widely.

"Look at how wet you are babygirl, and I still have yet to touch you there," Chan's pride had gone through the roof, pleased that he could make you feel this way.

Finally showing you some mercy, he rubbed his fingers against your core, cause you to moan and buck your hips against his fingers, trying to get more friction.

Chan held your hips down with one hand while the other collected your wetness on his fingers, dipping in into your entrance. You let out a gasp as you felt his finger push inside you, not used the feeling.

"Goddamn Y/N, I only put in one finger but your still so tight," chan groaned, pumping his finger in and out of you before slipping in another one.

You moaned, bucking your hips against his fingers. You were so lost in trying to reach your high you didn't realize Chan stopped moving his fingers.

"Shit- that was so hot." Chan cursed. That's when you realized he wasn't moving. Your eyes snapped open and looked into his dark ones already staring hard at you.

"Do you like fucking yourself on my fingers? Does it make you feel good?" He asked, pulling his fingers out of you.

You whined, feeling your orgasm slipping away each second he wasn't touching you.

"When I ask a question I expect an answer babygirl," Chan demanded.

"Yes! Yes I do," you replied quickly, hoping he'd start doing something again.

"Do you want my fingers to make you come?" He smirked, his wet fingers lightly rubbing your folds.

"N-no! Please Chan I need you," you cried out when he pressed his fingers on your sensitive bud.

"What do you need babygirl? Tell me," he continued teasing you, fingers circling your entrance.

"I want you to fuck me please," you whimpered, hips twitching from his agonizingly slow movements.

"You'll need to do better than that," he retorted, stopping his actions.

"I-I want you to fuck my pussy with your cock Chan- hnmf!" You tried to say but were cut off by Chans fingers being pushed into your mouth. You instinctively swirled your tongue around his fingers, sucking your essence off his fingers.

"Such a good girl..." he muttered, taking his finger out of your mouth. He lined himself at your entrance before cursing under his breath.

"Can I go in raw? I don't have a condom on me.." Chsn asked, looking at you for permission.

"I'm on birth control, it's okay," you confirmed. Your heart swelled at how he still asked you for consent rather than just going in for it.

Chan didn't waste another second, slowly pushing his head into your throbbing pussy.

"Fuck..." you both moaned. Chan slowly eased his way into you, giving you time to adjust to his thick length stretching you out deliciously.

Your jaw fell slack when he bottomed out, feeling so full with him completely inside you. He gave you a second to adjust before drawing out of you almost completely and then pushing in again, setting a slow pace with deep thrusts.

You couldn't do anything but moan, fingers clutching Chans biceps as he lowered his head back to your chest.

"Chan.. harder.. go.. harder," you panted, letting out a loud moan when he did just that.

Both of you were lost in a euphoric state, trying to chase your own highs. You felt a knot like feeling in your stomach, one that was growing tighter and tighter with each hard and deep thrust Chan gave you.

"I-I'm so close," you cried when Chan hit a particular spot that really had you screaming.

"Cum baby," Chan whispered in your ear. And that's all it took for that tight knot to come undone.

You moaned Chans name as you came all over his cock, walls clenching around him so tight that it had him shooting his hot seed deep into your womb.

Chan help both of you rode out your highs, but didn't pull out just yet. You could feel him becoming soft inside of you.

"That was amazing..." you panted lightly, a smile gracing your face. Chan stared down at you, nodding his head in agreement.

He slowly pulled out of you, cum dripping from your pussy to your ass. Chan quickly grabbed a box of tissues from the back and cleaned the both of you up.

You sat up and pulled your dress back on, not liking how quiet Chan was being.

"Chan? Are you okay?" You asked. Chan's head snapped up, turning to you.

"What- oh uh.. yeah I'm okay," he said, but you were unconvinced.

"Come on, tell me what's wrong?" You pressed. Chan just sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"I-I feel like I this was a mistake. I spent so long trying to get over you. I thought I was while I was overseas but then I was pulled to that stupid club and saw you. And all that time I spent getting over you went down the drain just like that. And to makes things worse, I just fucked you!" Chan admitted, frustrated he ruffled his hair aggressively.

You felt your heart shatter. He thought this was a mistake...? You swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears from forming.

"Y-you think what we did just now was a mistake?" You asked, voice cracking slightly.

Chan realized what he said and instantly started denying it. "No no no, I don't! It's just that, we spent so long getting over each other, you yourself said you're not over me. And i just made it worse for you,"

"I don't regret it Chan." You stated, looking at him with glassy eyes. "Everything that just happened, I don't regret any of it."

Chan looked at you sadly, pulling you into a hug. You buried your face into his shirt, feeling a few tears come out of your eyes and soak his shirt.

"Chan, if you could, would you date me again?" You mumbled, feeling kind of drowsy.

"Definitely. I wouldn't hesitate to ask you again," Chan answered. You thought for a second before replying.

"Then why aren't you saying anything now?" You ask. Chans brows knit together in confusion. He sits you up straight and looks into your eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what's holding us back from dating now?" You asked, looking right back into his eyes.

"Y/n... I'm gonna be travelling a lot. I'm only here for the week then I'm going to be going on tour for the next 2 or 3 months. We'd never work out. The same thing that happened before will happen again and I can't go through another heartbreak." Chan said dejectedly.

"I-I'll wait for you Chan, I swear. No matter how long it takes. I was selfish before and only thought of myself. I'm more open minded now, I don't mind waiting. Just please don't leave me again." You pleaded, hands clutching his shirt.

Chan felt his own tears forming, a small smile forming on his face. He cupped your cheeks, wiping the tears from your face.

"Are you sure? You'd have to be very patient with me then. I won't be able to text often, I'll be out of town at least 3 times a week, I won't always answer your calls. I'll be tired and unable to take you out on proper dates most of the time, they'd be pretty rare. Do you think you'll be able to handle all that." He asked, resting his forehead against yours.

"I'll be as patient as I possibly can. No matter how tired you are, or how far away you are or how busy you are. No matter what mood you're in. I'll support you however I can and be as understanding as possible. I promise." You answered, a smile forming on your face as well.

"Well then L/n Y/n, will you be my girlfriend... again?" Chan asked, giggling a little. Your smile turned into a grin and you kissed Chan softly.

"Does that answer your question?" You asked after pulling away. Chan pecked your forehead and nodded.

****

Chan was driving you home, not realizing how late it had gotten. He held your hand in his while keeping the other on the wheel, refusing to let go when you told him to keep both hands on the wheel.

You and Chan caught up along the way, with Chan talking about his music and future albums and you talking about your life as a content creator and your job. Chan, much to your dismay confessed to watching your videos when he was bored or too lazy to continue working, claiming that your videos were very entertaining and creative.

"The way you were trying to get dress coded at work had me laughing like crazy!" Chan exclaimed, stilling laughing while imitating how happy you were when you finally did get dress coded.

"Everyone's worn that shirt at least once! I was determined to wear it as well. Besides you gotta break the rules every now and then," you winked, giggling right after.

The both of you were silent for a little while, simply enjoying each others presence before you accidentally snorted out loud. Chan glanced you with an eyebrow raised. "What was that?"

"Sorry," you giggled, a faint blush on your face out of embarrassment. "I was just thinking about everything that happened. We did everything in the wrong order. You were supposed to asked me out first, take me in a date and then we'd get to the fucking stage. But we went straight to fucking then you asked me out."

"We're unique. We don't follow the rules." Chan laughed. "By the way, I'll take you on a date tomorrow."

You snorted again, loving how messed up your sequence was. "Okay, I can't wait."

And from then on you and Chan found yourselves living your best lives with each other. Nothing like the first relationship you had. Rather than showing a lack of affection and communication like before, you were much more the opposite. And that's exactly how you'd perfer it to be.

Fin.

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

Should I make an alternate ending or a part 2👀? I kinda wanna make y'all cry jdsjka.

[south-park-meta]

if ur still taking prompts quidnunc with kyle? 👀

Quidnunc – One who always has to know what’s going on.

Kyle hates to be left in the dark. To be kept out of the loop. To not know things.

Some of that's just a natural childhood curiosity ballooned by their town being weirder than most towns. Maybe even all towns. South Park on a whole is a place with a lot of questions and very few answers. And sometimes there's no choice but to just let things go without knowing the why of it. But sometimes, maybe even most times, there's this blissful ignorance. There's the entire town looking at him and shrugging their shoulders with a, Well, what can you do? look on their faces. What they could do is understand, to make sure it doesn't happen again.

But they don't, so it does. Rinse and repeat.

It's not just that. It's not just that the town makes itself worse, by keeping themselves holed up in Plato's cave. It's not just that he thinks the entire town should want to know the truths of itself, even if it hurts, if they can.

It's that while he sees the town being ripped to pieces by the things only he and a handful of people seem to want to know, he's taken out at the knees by things he never thought to question. The things he thought he already knew inside out and backwards.

He's stunned when Stan agrees that the four of them should divorce.

He's just as stunned that Cartman does--he's hurt by it in a way that's hard to admit.

Cartman's maybe even harder for him to pick apart, because Cartman's always been there. Maybe now and then they'd get along for a week and Kyle would secretly hope Cartman would grow a conscience no matter how unlikely it seemed. But for the most part 'getting along' wasn't a part of what he had with Cartman. Cartman fought with him. Always put him on the defense, insulting his mom and his religion and the way he looked and the way he acted. He's always hated it. It's always hurt.

But kind or cruel, good or terrible, Cartman was always there. Cartman had never just been tired of him before. Cartman had always, always, since the day they'd met in preschool, wanted to keep him close. He always knew to expect it. And even at its worst Kyle could always twist it up, convince himself it was all worth it; he could endure Cartman so no one else had to.

The day they all divorce is the first time he can remember that Cartman's really been disinterested in him. The first time Cartman's really not wanted to be around him.

That's not true with Stan.

He and Stan have driven each other away before. But they'd always come back together in the end. And it always felt just fine to Kyle once they did. The fights that he had with Stan could be dramatic, but that just felt like part of it. Part of whatever made them them. Maybe it should've been a sign when they were on opposite sides of Stan's bedroom door and Stan had told him, "You completely betrayed the last bit of friendship we still had", that something was really off with them. But Stan had also said they were never going to play Call of Duty together again.

Then Black Friday came and went and right before they used their consoles for the first time, Stan looked at him and said, "That was a real pain in the ass, dude. Those transitions better really be seamless."

And Kyle said eagerly, "They totally are!"

And they laughed together playing Call of Duty that night.

So maybe it's not a sign at all, the way he and Stan fought.

It eats him up, that he doesn't understand how he could've lost Stan and Cartman both at once and not seen any of it coming.

And they keep it moving like nothing happened at all. Like none of it had mattered. Cartman goes to Casa Bonita on weekends he doesn't have Kenny. He says how he had so much fun. He says how cool Jimmy and Clyde and Craig are in class and he maybe is looking at Kyle but maybe he's not, maybe it's all in Kyle's head.

Butters says, "Well, what about me, Eric? Don't'cha remember, I was there, too!"

Cartman sighs and says, "Butters, I need to tell you something. There are cool bitches and there are needy bitches. No one likes a needy bitch. You, Butters, are a needy bitch."

"Oh, well, all right then," Butters says.

At that moment Kyle feels sorry for Butters, but somehow at the exact same moment, he doesn't.

They have a talent show at school. Stan and Jimmy and Kenny and Butters all play a song that is--well, full of talent. But Kyle's never really liked death metal and anyway there's something about it that hits him sideways. It's the kind of thing that might make him ask Stan what the fuck he's doing, if he were in the position to still be asking what the fuck Stan was doing. But then again maybe he wouldn't even if he was allowed. It scares him a bit when Stan gets these big feelings that Kyle can't know just by grabbing hold; he'd have to pick and Stan hates to be picked at. Anyway Stan and his band all laugh and clap each other on the backs when the song's over so maybe Kyle has no reason to feel the worry that he doesn't know how to handle.

Kyle tries to hang out with some of the other kids. It kind of works and kind of doesn't. It just feels so casual at its best. It doesn't feel like friendship, not the way it felt when they were all four together, and not the way it feels like Cartman and Stan have when he looks at them from the outside-in. At its worst, he thinks maybe the kids are only coming over out of pity. Like he's Kip Drordy and they're extending a hand but hoping he doesn't pull them in.

Truth is he's never liked Butters that much. Even though he thinks Butters would come over to play again, Kyle can't imagine asking. He's not going to hang out with someone who wears him out just to not be lonely.

It's as he's watching Butters go that he sees the U-Hauls pull up in front of Stan's old house. Maybe the new family will have a kid, and maybe he can make friends, fresh and clean, before anything can happen to make him off-putting.

Stan hops out of the front seat with a box in his arms. Kyle recognizes the lamp poking out. It squeezes his heart almost as much as seeing Stan's face does.

"Stan?" he asks, making the short jog down the sidewalk.

"Kyle?" Stan asks.

Kyle thinks he can hear the tone. That tone, the one where Stan's excited to see him. But then they're face to face and the muscle memory of being best friends gets lost, like all at once forgetting how to pedal a bike.

"You're moving back?"

"Yeah. Looks like."

"Oh. Well. Good."

"Yeah."

"Yeah. So. I'll see you."

They look at each other for a moment longer and all of a sudden Kyle feels like Stan doesn't understand it all any more than he does. It's tempting to ask Stan to just try and stumble in the dark with him, to try and figure it all out. But he can't make himself ask, whether because of pride or fear or some brand new feeling that had never existed inside him before. Stan doesn't make himself ask, either. So he steps back, turns, and walks back to his house.

[wiypt-writes]

Riding High

Ch10: Hustle

Chapter Summary: It’s date time!!! Woohoo!! The slow burn has FINALLY burst into flames”

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW, no under 18s thanks!)

Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 9

“And there is no, no song I could sing, and there is no combination of words I could say, but I will still tell you one thing…we’re better together.”

Fliss checked herself over again in the mirror and bit her lip. Frank had told her to dress casually, and bring a sweater as it could get a bit chili on the water at this time of year. She’d opted for a pair jeans with ripped knees, a sleeveless black top with white lace detailing in the shape of daisies and a pair of high-top pink converse. Her hair was pulled back into a loose bun and her make-up was heavier than she normally wore but not too obvious. That said, she still felt…

Actually what was it she felt?

“That’s what you’re wearing?” John looked her up and down as she emerged from the walk-in closet. Fliss felt her heart sink, she’d spent ages picking this outfit for the night out John had said they were going on.

“What, is it not…” she asked and trailed off.

“No, wear a dress, for fucks sake Felicity, we’re going to an up-scale restaurant, not a goddamned diner.”

At that point she heard her mum calling, jerking her back out of the memory. She took a deep breath and grabbed her long black cardigan. Frank wasn’t John, and she wasn’t fucking Felicity. With a final check of her appearance she headed down the stairs to find her mum waiting in the living room of the annex.

“Oh you look lovely!” Verity gushed and Fliss smiled.

“Thanks mum, you okay?”

“Yeah, just came by to ask if you wanted us to take Thor for the night or,” there was a glint in her mother’s eye and Fliss gave a snort.

“I’m coming home.” she shook her head “This is a first date. What do you take me for?” “Well it’s been a while.” Verity shrugged, nonchalantly and Fliss picked up a cushion off the sofa and threw it at her.

“You’re terrible.”

Verity caught the cushion and tossed it back, smiling. “Ok, honestly, I just wanted to see how you were, that’s all.”

“Big girl mum, sure I can handle a date. Besides, it’s Frank.” she shrugged.

“I know.” Verity replied, and studied her daughter for a second, a softness on her face, but before Fliss could reassure her some more, she heard Frank’s truck pull up outside.

Fliss moved round her mum and opened the door, ushering her out.

“Okay, I get the message!” Verity held her hands up, calling Thor. He obediently trotted after her. “I’ll put him back in later.”

“Thanks mum.” she smiled as she waved at Frank who had cut the engine and was just climbing out.

“Bill let me in.” He said by way of explanation as Fliss looked at him. “Hi V.” He nodded to the woman and she gave him a warm smile back.

“Hi Frank.” she said, turning back to Fliss, looking over her shoulder as she walked “Have fun kids, don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do.”

“That leaves a lot…” Fliss said sarcastically, rolling her eyes as her mum laughed and disappeared up the drive to the main house. She turned to look at Frank who smiled at her as he walked round the back of the truck. He was dressed in a pair of dark jeans, dark blue sneakers and a light blue button down.

“You look great.” He smiled at her and she flushed a little, all her earlier trepidation vanishing as there was nothing but softness on his face.

“Don’t look too bad yourself, Sailor.” she replied a little shyly, and he grinned, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head as he followed her into the house “Although I was kinda hoping you’d wear one of those hideous Hawaiian shirts.”

“You literally just called them hideous.” He rolled his eyes

“Hideous and endearing.” She quipped, grabbing her purse before she retrieved her cardigan from where she had tossed it onto the sofa.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded.

With a smile he offered her his hand and she took it without a second thought, and allowed him to lead her to the truck.

******

Frank parked his truck outside his house and led Fliss down the path towards the docks. They chatted comfortably as he made his way to the boat he’d borrowed for the evening and before long he’d fired it up and was steering them out of the harbour and into the bay. Fliss sat down on one of the benches, her legs resting on the wooden step in front of her, sunglasses covering her eyes as she glanced out over the water, the wind gently catching the loose strands of her hair and her sweeping bangs. Frank glanced at her every so often, simply drinking her in.

Eventually he picked up the speed ever so slightly and then called to Fliss, nodding to a cool box on the side that Dave, the owner, had left for him when he’d told him why he wanted to borrow it. He liked Dave, often swung a fair bit of work his way and he was a good man, always tipped Frank well.

Fliss retrieved two bottles and flipped the tops off before handing him one.

“Are you allowed to drink and be in charge of a boat?” she asked.

He shrugged “Never been stopped yet.” She smiled and took a drink, moving to stand besides him.

“Can I have a drive?" Fliss looked at him

"Thought you sailed a boat?" Frank said, teasingly as he took a mouthful of Bud.

"You're a dick, Adler" Fliss deadpanned back.

Frank laughed "Whatever, and no you can’t."

"Why?" she pouted.

"Because I don’t fancy having to call Mary from Puerto Rico"

"Hmmm." Fliss pondered, swallowing her beer. "Are we even on the open ocean yet?"

"No"

"Well how the fuck would we end up in Puerta Rico?" She laughed "And, according to that compass," she pointed to the dial in front of them on the cockpit of the boat, "we're heading South West so we would hit Havana or Cancun first anyway. That is once we've actually made it out of the bay of course."

"You know it's no wonder you and Mary get on so well.” He shook his head. "Both smart asses."

She chuckled as she stood beside him and they made their way at a reasonable pace across the water, Frank keeping his eyes peeled for what he was hoping to find, and after five minutes or so he spotted the tell-tale ripples on the surface of the bay and grinned. He changed course slightly, heading towards his target and was just about to finally tell Fliss what he was heading towards when one of the dolphins broke surface. It was a small leap but Fliss gripped his arm and gave an excited gasp.

"Is that...are they dolphins?"

"Yup." he grinned at her. She looked at him in amazement and he smiled as they sped forward towards them, watching as another leapt out of the water, this time far higher as they continued to follow the pod, Fliss making her way to the stern for a closer look. To Frank they were a common sight but for Fliss, who had never seen them in the wild so close, it was amazing, and the smile never faded from her face for the entire time. She glanced back at him every so often, beaming, and it made his chest flutter every goddamned time she did. Eventually after about twenty minutes or so the pod dived and then emerged a little way ahead of them and Frank slowed down a touch, allowing them to pull away.

"Wow." Fliss breathed as she made her way back towards him and Frank took her empty bottle and tossed it into a garbage bag along with his own. "Frankie, that was..." she sighed unable to express what she was feeling. Frank chuckled softly watching her before he reached for her arm, gently pulling her in front of him as he stepped back.

"Take the wheel." He said softly into her ear.

"Fuck, what?" She stiffened slightly

"You wanted a go."

"I was only joking...I can't sail this thing!"

He laughed. "Come on its easy, I'll show you look.” he moved closer to her, his chest brushing her back as his hands gently fell over hers on the wheel. He steered with her for a moment before he gradually let go and his fingers softly traced up her arms.

Fliss felt the goose-bumps spring forth at his touch and at the same time Frank noticed her breathing changing slightly and he suddenly worried he had overstepped the mark. But, as his hands stopped at her elbows, she turned her head slightly, her face inches from his as she looked up at him over her shoulder. Her eyes flicked down to his mouth and he took the initiative and leaned down pressing his lips to hers in a soft kiss which, although fleeting, sent shivers down his spine. They both pulled back for a second or two before their lips were back together, this time the kiss a little stronger and Frank's right hand felt for the key in the ignition of the boat and he turned it cutting the engine. Fliss chuckled against his lips as she turned round to face him.

"Just out of interest, what happens if the boat doesn't start again?" She asked, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head so she could see his eyes.

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Are you doubting my handy-work, Cowgirl"

"Wouldn't dream of it, Sailor." she murmured as he closed the distance between them, his hands falling to her hips before he kissed her again.

Frank already knew he was an utter gonner for this woman and the feeling of her mouth on his and her body pressed against him simply solidified that fact. It was as if this was what he had been holding out for, like it was just meant to be. Her arms snaked round his neck, and when one of her hands fisted gently in his hair, he gripped her hips ever so slightly tighter and his tongue skated along her bottom lip, seeking permission. She obliged, opening her mouth slightly and he took the lead, his hands sliding round to her back pulling her closer. It was passionate, deep, the two totally wrapped up in one another, no regard for the fact they were on a boat, merely drifting across the bay.

It was only when a loud cheer hit their ears that they broke apart and both turned their heads to see a larger boat floating last with a group of four men passing, all raising beer bottles at them in a toast, shouting and hollering various cat calls. "Friends of yours?" Fliss asked, Frank's hands gently rubbing at the base of her spine. "I have absolutely no idea who they are" he gave a chuckle as the boat full of guys headed off past them into the setting sun.

The moment broken, Frank gently moved round Fliss and started the boat back up, grabbed another two beers whilst she shrugged on her cardigan, before he stood back and let Fliss pilot the boat for a little longer, using the excuse of straightening up their direction to touch her in some form or way as often as he could, until the light started getting dim and he reluctantly suggested they should probably be making their way back. Fliss moved to let him take the wheel and, to his delight, as he moved to steer, he felt her hands link round his waist and her cheek press into his back. They stayed like that until she needed to move so he could move the boat back into its allocated spot before bringing it to a stop.

He stepped off the boat, gave directions to Fliss as she remained on the deck and the two of them ensured the boat was moored properly. Frank hopped back on board, made sure everything was locked down and then stepped onto the jetty again, offering his hand to Fliss. She took it and stepped onto the wooden platform besides him and he smiled as she adjusted her hold so her fingers were laced between his. They walked in silence back towards the main area of the harbour, the lights twinkling on the water as they walked down the wooden planks.

"So Mary's staying at Roberta's." Frank broke the silence. "What do you say we take this date to Ferg's?"

"You wanna take me to Ferg's on our first date?" She asked, her hands sliding up over his chest to his shoulders and he bit back the moan that had arisen in his throat at her touch. "How romantic..."

"Come on cut me some slack" he chuckled as his hands fell to her hips again "I took you out chasing dolphins in the sunset!"

"Hmmm, well, I suppose when you put it like that." she grinned, reaching up to close the distance between them once more in a soft, sweet kiss "I'm just kidding, Sailor. I like Ferg’s...it has character."

"One way of describing it." He chuckled as he places and arm round her shoulder. “You alright to walk, it’s only ten minutes or so from here.”

“Walking’s good.” she nodded, leaning into him. ***** "He Joe, can I get an eight bucket?" Frank looked at the bar tender, hanging him a twenty "And can you make sure there's change for the pool table?" "No worries..."

As Fliss came back from the restroom, Frank smiled at her, and then suddenly cursed himself as he realised he hadn’t asked her what she wanted.

“I ordered beer. Is that ok or did you want something else?” “No, beers great.” she beamed at him, “But thank you for asking.”

Frank didn’t press the fact that she didn’t need to be so grateful at common courtesy, he figured that was another hang up from her asshole ex and he had no intentions of bringing that fucker up in any way, shape or form tonight.

Joe set the bucket down, handed Frank his change and Frank tipped him before he handed Fliss a beer and picked the bucket up with one hand, gently steering her away from the bar, towards the pool table at the back with his other, fingers gently splaying at the lower part of her back. He set the beer bucket down on a table to the right and then fished in his pocket for some change. “Wanna make this more interesting?” He asked as he slid the coins into the shot.

“I'm not playing strip pool, not in the middle of a bar anyway.” Fliss shook her head, taking a mouthful from her bottle.

“So you would in private?” he grinned as the balls rolled down and he bent down to retrieve them and started to place them on the table.

She smirked

“Okay, filing that for future reference.” he said, pointing his bottle at her as he straightened up.

“You don’t have a pool table.”

“I’ll get one.” he deadpanned, causing her to laugh. “But no, I was talking about a wager.

She groaned “I'm really shit at pool.”

“Ok, we’ll do best outta three, .and I'll even give you a four ball head start on the first game.” he coaxed.

“What's the bet?” she narrowed her eyes.

“Loser buys the shots?”

"You know it’s probably easier if I just go buy em now."

“Ah, c’mon!” he said, his Boston drawl slipping out slightly stronger than normal. “Don’t be a baby.”

“Fine.” she said, with a heavy sigh. “But I’m buying Tequila. I can’t stand Sambucca and straight vodka makes me want to hurl”

“Whatever you say sweetheart.”

It turns out Fliss wasn’t exaggerating. On their first game she really was terrible. Frank laughed as she pouted at him and told him he was mean as he pulled another two beers from the bucket, handing her one, before racking the balls up again before he chalked up his cue.

“You’re break.” He smiled and she rolled her eyes as he positioned the white ball on the spot. She took her cue and bent over the table.

“Ok, move your hand,” he said, reaching over and repositioning her hold, “little more accuracy…but you need to put some power behind it too.” He moved her right elbow back and guided her arm through the shot and it broke the pack with a satisfying clack, sending a striped into the top pocket.

“Guess I’m stripes.” she shrugged, standing up, her back brushing against his chest. He dropped a kiss to her cheek and moved so she could take the next shot. The game continued in this vein, Frank helping her, showing her where to aim so she hit the balls in the right spot, continually correcting her elbows and guiding her hands so that she didn’t hit anything too hard. There was an intimate quality to it too, being pressed behind or over her and at one point he certainly had a twitch in the groin area and had to back away, leaving her to it.

After he deliberately fouled up on the final shot, Fliss ended up winning and she stood straight and looked at him.

“You did that on purpose.”

He shrugged, grinning. “Makes it interesting for the final. Tie break.”

“Can I break again?” she asked as he racked the balls up.

He nodded, strictly speaking it was his turn but, well, like it mattered. He was going to win anyway.

Fliss broke and potted a solid this time. And then she proceeded to pot shot after shot. Frank’s mouth fell open as she moved to her next ball, then the next and she looked up at him, smirking as she nominated the pocket just in front of him and then sank her last ball without him even getting a single turn. He could do nothing but stare at her for a moment before he snapped his mouth shut.

"You just eight balled me." he looked at her.

She shrugged

"Wait, did I just get hustled?" he asked, realisation washing over him. The corner of her mouth twitched up in a grin and he groaned as he shook his head. “Fuck me.”

“Think you owe me some shots.” She teased, pulling the last two bottles of beer from the bucket and handing him one.

“Where did you learn to play pool like that?” he asked, shaking his head.

“Well when I was competing I was on the road a lot with the team.” She smiled. “We socialised in the evenings, guess I just picked it up. That’s also where I learned how to hustle.”

“I don’t know if I should be pissed off or impressed.” He teased, picking up the bucket which was loaded with their empties as they made their way back to the bar.

Or turned on…

“Can’t you be both?” she looked at him and he laughed.

“Tequila was it?”

Three shots each later they were both definitely feeling the buzz and at that point Fliss insisted she needed to switch to water, explaining she was still up early in the morning for lessons, reminding him that Mary had one at two.

“So I get to see you tomorrow as well?” he smiled and she grinned.

“Must be your lucky weekend.” she smirked.

“Clearly.”

The soft flirting continued for another half an hour before Fliss reluctantly groaned and said she needed to get home. Frank didn’t want the evening to end but he got it, it was past midnight and she was up at seven.

As he walked her out to her cab, she declined the offer of him riding with her and smiled, turning to face him.

“I had a really great night.” she said, shyly as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her hear. “Thank you.” “Me too.” he said, honestly. He smiled at her, before he moved towards her, his arm circling her waist before he dipped his head to catch her lips in a soft kiss.

“See you tomorrow.” she smiled, her head resting against his before he grinned again and opened the door for her.

“Yeah, you will.”

**** Fliss groaned as her alarm went off, blinking and grimacing at the light. Her head was fuzzy, that tequila really hadn’t been a great idea. Then the memory of the rest of the date came back and she smiled to herself, laying her head back on the pillow. Allowing herself five minutes of dozing and basking in the memory and warm feeling she had, she eventually knew she had to get up and headed for the shower.

Thankfully she was up too early to encounter her mother, who she knew would want the gossip. She had half been expecting her to be waiting when she got back but suspected that her dad had probably forbidden her from doing so. After a coffee and some headache tablets she felt ready to face the day and grabbing a bottle of water she headed out to her jeep. Just as she climbed in her mobile went and she opened the message smiling as it was from Frank. A simple “Good morning” with a kiss at the end. Biting her lip, she sent him a reply before she climbed into her car.

She hardly had time to think about anything once she arrived at work. She opened up, checked her diary, indulged in a little bit more text flirting to and fro with Frank before her nine am class arrived and then it was none stop until lunch. Joanne was gently drilling her for information on her date but she was giving nothing away, other than the fact she’d enjoyed herself, before she threatened to sack the woman if she didn’t stop asking. Joanne merely smirked knowingly and shrugged before she changed the subject.

It was about half one when Frank and Mary walked onto the yard, Mary barrelling straight for Fliss before she headed into the barn to see Monty.

“Hey.” Frank smiled at Fliss and she beamed back, suddenly a little shy, for what reason she had no idea. He looked good though, faded jeans and a white polo shirt with a red horizontal stripe running across his chest.

“Hi.” she smiled at him. “She’s keen!” she gestured to the direction Mary had gone in.

“She’s been dressed and ready since eleven.” he groaned “Kept badgering me to bring her earlier.”

“You should have done.” Fliss smiled as she headed back to the office, Frank taking the opportunity to eye up her ass in those damned fine riding breeches before he hastily averted his gaze as she looked over her shoulder at him. “I’ve told you, I’m not averse to child labour.”

Frank chuckled and followed her into the tack room, pushing his shades up onto his head, and she gave a small yelp of surprise as his hands fell to her hips and he spun her round.

“C’mere.” he said softly, pulling her to him, his lips meeting hers. She eagerly kissed him back as his right hand slid up to cup her cheek, and then the door to the tack room flew open and they both jumped slightly, Frank turning round to see Mary and Joanne stood there. Joanne looked at Fliss, smirking slightly and Mary paused for a moment before she put her hands on her hips and eyed Frank.

“About damned time.” she said, with a very Roberta-esque air.

Frank groaned as Fliss giggled, her cheeks burning slightly before Mary looked at her, then to Frank before she grinned and shook her head.

“Roberta’s gonna love this…” **** “Oh come on!” Frank groaned as Fliss scored another strike, turning to hi-five Mary. “This is nothing but a fix up.” “Oh quit your fuss.” Fliss teased “Not my fault you decided you could take us both on. Did you not learn anything from Friday night?”

“Yeah, not to trust innocent little British girls who claim they’re crap at something.” He said, his hands on his hips.

“Who said anything about being innocent?” She winked at him and, damned, if that didn’t stir something in his belly. Shaking his head, and glad it was his turn, he moved to pick up a bowling ball making his way to the aisle. He took aim and then staggered back as Mary was swinging off his arm, cackling.

“Ok, now this is sabotage.” He said, raising his arm slightly before his other moved to tickle at her waist. She let go hastily, dropping onto her feet, her laughter loud as she moved backwards. “Did you tell her to do that?” he looked at Fliss.

“Hey you brought her up, don’t blame me.” Fliss smirked at him, and he rolled his eyes, taking his shot.

They had another few games as on Wednesday it was half price before they left, Frank in a pretend sulk after he had basically had his ass handed to him for the second time that week by Fliss and they drove a few minutes down the road to the Ice Cream parlour.

As they sat enjoying their treats, their talk turned to Thanksgiving which was the following week and Fliss asked them both what they were doing.

“We went to Roberta’s last year but this time it’s her year for going to her sisters.” Mary said.

“They alternate.” Frank explains. “Every other year her sister comes here and we join them, and then the others she goes there.” “Which means this year,” Mary grinned at Frank, “I get to pick dinner. And I want Chicken nuggets!”

“Woah, hang on.” Fliss said in a horrified voice. “Chicken nuggets on thanksgiving? You can’t do that!”

“Sure we can!” Frank scoffed. “It’s thanksgiving, we can eat whatever we want, ain’t that right Stack?”

Mary nodded gleefully. “Yup, we always have fun!” She said, shovelling more ice cream into her mouth “We watch the parade, have candy for breakfast, and always remember we have stuff to be thankful for, right Frank?”

“Even more so this year.” He smiled and Fliss grinned back. “So, what do you do?”

“Oh, we don’t do the sit down dinner, it’s not a British thing.” Fliss shrugged. “I’ll be doing the horses that day to let everyone have the time off and then Mum and Dad throw a party in the evenings for their friends who all come round.” She looked at him. “I’m assuming you two are gonna join us this year?

“Is that an invite?” Frank asked, his hand falling to her knee under the table.

“Dur.” She smiled at him. “Besides, my mum would cry if you didn’t show up. Think she prefers you to me now.”

They stayed where they were, ordering more ice cream just because, well, for no reason other than they could, before they headed back to drop Fliss home and Frank told Mary to wait in the truck.

“You gonna kiss again?” She asked and Fliss let out a laugh whilst Frank simply shook his head as he climbed out.

“Can I take you out again on Friday?” He asked as Fliss opened her door.

“I’ll have to check my really busy social calendar.” she said, pausing “Nope, I’m free.”

“Good, I was talking to Greg before and he told me about a really nice bistro in town…so I thought…”

Fliss wrinkled her nose. “Can we not just grab some food and go and sit by the sea?”

Frank hesitated. “Well yeah but, I thought…” “Look, fancy dinners are great every now and then but,” she sighed, “it’s all he-who-shall-not-be-named ever did.”

“He-who-shall-not-be-named?” Frank arched an eyebrow.

“Yeah, kind of reduces him to an evil, fictional twat, it suits him.” Fliss shrugged. “Anyway, he persistently took me to the most expensive places, paraded me around like some kind of fucking trophy, putting on this illusion that he was this great guy and,” she shrugged, “I had so much fun last Friday and tonight, I just…” she trailed off and groaned, wrinkling her face up, her hand pinching the bridge of her nose before she looked at him apologetically “Sorry, that sounds really ungrateful.”

Frank stepped forward and cut her off with a soft kiss “No, it doesn’t.” he assured her with a smile. “And as it happens, I know just the place we can go.”

*****

“Oh my God!” Fliss grinned, eyeing up the Mexican street food wagon by the beach in St Paul’s which was lit up by dozens of rows of fairy lights. “This is perfect!”

“Well I figured seeing as last week we didn’t go to Mexico, I’d bring Mexico to you.”  Frank grinned, inwardly purring at the fact she was so pleased.

“What’s good?” She asked.

“Honestly, all of it.” Frank smiled “But the pork and chicken burrito is my favourite. Oh, and the nachos.”

“Okay, I’ll go with that.” She smiled as they joined the queue. It wasn’t long before they reached the front and Frank placed their order, pulling out his wallet. Fliss caught his hand.

“Let me.” “No.” he shook his head.

“Please Frank.” She looked at him. “You paid last Friday and Wednesday.”

He looked at her, ready to argue but there was something in her eyes. And he found himself wondering again if this was some kind of independence thing, one she hadn’t been allowed before.

“Alright.” He shrugged “But I’m buying the drinks later.” “Deal.” She smiled, handing over the cash.

They took their food and sat down at one of the plastic tables, which was illuminated by a small candle in a jar. Fliss enthusiastically picked up her food from the basket, digging in and nodding in appreciation.

“This is so good.” She said with a mouthful, and Frank laughed as she nearly dropped half of it down the front of her pink top “Shit.”

“How did you miss?” He asked and she flicked him the finger as she continued to eat, chatting about their day.

“Greg called.” He suddenly remembered he hadn’t told her and at his words she looked at him “He’s got a date for the court hearing.” “Oh?”

“Twelth of December.” Frank leaned back. As he did so his right leg stretched forward and brushed against her left, which she gently moved closer so that their ankles were almost tangled together.

“That’s good.” she smiled “So by Christmas it’ll all be done?” “Yup.” he nodded, with a sigh “I’ll be glad with it’s finally closed.” “Have you heard anything from Evelyn?”

He shook his head. “I’m not dismissing her just yet. I have a feeling she’s gonna apply for access but if she does then that’s up to Mary. It’ll be her decision.”

Fliss nodded and then leaned back, her food now gone.

“Wanna grab a few beers and go sit on the beach?” Frank asked.

She grinned and he stood up, offering her his hand and he led her over to the truck. A couple of minutes later, both clutching a Desperado they headed down the lamp lit steps and onto the soft shore of the Public Access area of St Pete’s, making their way over to a bout of flat rocks which lay against the shore wall. Frank sat on one and Fliss perched next to him, gently leaning her head against his shoulder as he dropped a kiss to her head, dropping his arm round her.

They sat in a comfortable silence, watching as the moonlight bounced off the calm sea, the sounds of the gentle waves all they could hear.

“You okay?” Frank broke the silence, pulling her closer as she shivered slightly “Cold?”

“I shouldn’t be.” She chuckled. “It’s tropical compared to Boston.” “Yeah but you get acclimatised.” he smiled.

“Do you ever miss it?” Fliss asked suddenly. “You know, the seasons, big city living?”

“Sometimes.” He nodded. “But then I remembered why I moved and…”

“I know that feeling.” Fliss mumbled. “But, I still wish we got snow at Christmas.”

“Mary’s never seen snow.” Frank shook his head.

“We should go back sometime.” Fliss mused. “I mean, maybe not to Boston but New York perhaps. I always wanted to go in December time but I never got round to it.”

“Any particular reason or…” Frank asked, with a feeling he already knew the answer.

She looked at him “What do you think?”

Frank shook his head “I know I’ve said this before but I really would love to get sometime in a room with him, one on one.”

Fliss laughed “Yeah, you’ll be behind my Dad and Steve in the queue I’m afraid.” Frank snorted and then turned to look at her “Okay, then next year we’ll do it. We’ll go to New York. In the winter.”

“Already making plans with me for next year huh, Sailor?” she teased, and he shrugged and looked down at his feet for a moment before he turned back to her.

“Yeah.” he said simply “Yeah, I am.”

Fliss smiled and bit her lip slightly, the significance of what he was saying didn’t pass her by. He wanted this to work, he wanted this to be something more, but then she knew that already. She’d known for weeks that there was something deeper there than a little bit of dating fun. “Well, I can run with that.” She swallowed, her eyes shining. “But only if we can have a snowball fight, I can kick your ass at that too.”

He tilted his head to look at her and snorted “You’re a little aggressive on the sly, aint you?”

“Frankie, I competed for a living, you got no idea.” she grinned at him.

With a chuckle he studied her pretty face for a moment before he shifted slightly, finger tilting her chin up before he pressed his lips to hers, his fingers gently caressing her neck as the kiss deepened. A soft moan escaped her mouth and fuck, that noise went straight to his groin.

Things were quickly getting heated as her hand slid into his hair, keeping their mouths locked together, his tongue dominating hers before he eventually pulled away and pressed their foreheads together.

“Carry on like that and I’m not gonna be able to stop.” he whispered to her as she let out a soft sigh, and he tucked her hair behind her ears. She smirked back slightly, her eyes locked onto his.

“Did I say I wanted you to?”

Oh.Jesus.Christ.

He looked at her before she smiled and stood up, offering him her hand this time. Without a word he took it, and they walked back the way they had come little more than an hour earlier.

***** How Frank drove back to hers without crashing he had no idea, his mind was as far from being on the road as it should be, but he had, and here they were, stumbling into her bed room, heated kisses being shared as he kicked the door shut, his lips still fiercely on hers. Her fingers were now on the hem of his grey T-shirt and she gave it a tug, and he moved so she could pull it up over his head, tossing it to the floor somewhere and her hands moved up his sides and over his shoulders, nails scratching at the back of his neck, causing him to groan softly into her mouth as his hands gently slid under her top at the back, his touch sending shivers up her spine. His lips moved from her mouth across her jaw line, and then down her neck and she tipped her head back, giving him more access, relishing the feel of his soft mouth and the delectable gentle scratching of his beard on her skin.

Taking the lead, Frank backed her towards the bed as his hands strayed to the bottom of her top. She nodded eagerly and in a flash he pulled it over her head, before his hands gently smoothed back her hair that had flown over her face before he stole a glance at her and groaned at the soft pink lace trimmed bra that she was wearing. As the back of her knees hit her bed, he gently lowered her down, positioning himself over her, caging her with his arms and his legs as his mouth continued trailing soft kisses down her neck and her jawline, the soft noises she was making were turning him on even more and he moved back to claim her mouth in another searing kiss. She pulled away from him this time and he watched as her eyes followed her hands downwards.

Frank was toned, Fliss could see that. His shoulders and arms were ridiculously defined on account of his physical job, and she had always been able to see that with the t-shirts and tops he wore, but to her delight his abs weren’t ridiculously hard. There was a soft quality to him, even though he was still ridiculously trim, and as she followed the strip of hair down to the waistband of his pants she couldn’t help the smirk that crossed her face.

“Like something you see?” He quipped, and she looked back up at him, her fingers gently grazing his stomach, lingering there before moving down to the button on his jeans.

“Yup.” she said, popping the P loudly causing him to laugh before he smoothed her hair back softly, his mouth pressing back to hers again, as she worked the button on his jeans loose. As her nails gently scraped the sensitive span of his Adonis belt, he couldn’t help another groan and then his hands moved down between them and he worked his jeans down over his hips, almost sighing at the fact he was free from the restrictive denim. His fingers then flew to her jeans as her hands gently danced up his back, over the broad muscles of his shoulders before he slid down the bed, taking her jeans with him, before shucking his own completely off. He glanced down and saw her underwear was matching and with a teasing eyebrow he smirked at her.

“You planning for this?”

She shook her head, “hoping,” before her hand snaked round his neck, pulling him back down to her, his mouth hungrily claiming hers again as his hands trailed up the outside of her bare, soft thighs, to her hips, up the side of her body. She arched her back slightly, and he made quick work of the clasp on her bra, sliding it down her arms before he stole a glance down at her, the soft, supple lines of her breasts a complete contrast to her toned shoulders. She bit her lip shyly and as he looked back up at her, that long, auburn hair splayed across her pillow, and he knew there and then that he’d never seen anyone as beautiful as she was. He gently leaned down, rubbing his nose against hers before he kissed her softly, his lips tracing a track down her sternum before he softly took a nipple in his mouth, his tongue gently teasing, eyes flicking to her face to watch her reaction.  She groaned, rolling her head back on the pillow at the sensation, her hips bucking upwards and Frank moaned at the feel of her pressing up against him. She dragged her fingers up his spine, and her touch, her feel, her smell, the little noises of pleasure and cooing of his name all combined had him absolutely rock solid, aching for her, in a way he couldn’t ever remember aching for anyone before.

Her hips moved again and his hand trailed down, sliding into the waistband of her panties making her gasp as his fingers worked her. Her hips began to move in time with his motions, groans falling from her lips at the sensation as he nipped slightly at her neck.

“Good?” He asked as she gasped and it was all she could to do whimper softly, her head falling back further as her mouth fell open, her entire body shuddering softly. She reached down, grabbed his wrist and he looked at her, as her brown eyes locked on to his.

“Want you.” She whispered softly, and boy was he happy to oblige. He hopped off the bed, retrieving his wallet from his jeans pocket, pulling out the little foil square he always kept in there, just in case, and when he turned back he saw her led, her elbows propping her up slightly, hair falling over her shoulders. And holy shit, what a sight she was.

“Planning for this?” She raised an eyebrow, repeating his earlier words back to him and he laughed, shaking his head as he made his way back over to her.

“Hoping.” He replied softly, as she took it from him. His fingers hooked into the top of her panties, gently sliding them down before he rid himself of his boxers. Fliss tore the packet open and he groaned softly as her hands gently wrapped around his cock before she slid the condom down and that really shouldn’t been as arousing as it was but he was almost ready to blow before he’d even started. He moved over her again, his thighs gently parting hers a little further and with a steady motion he slid into her, the sensation caused both of them to groan, Fliss leaning back against the pillows as he stretched her, his girth and length filling her completely.

"Liss, fuck.” Frank breathed out, his word little more than a whisper as moved his hands to snake his fingers through hers, gently pinning her hands by the side of her head as he began to gently move his hips. Slowly at first, picking up the speed slightly as she keened underneath him. Their hips rubbed together with every thrust he made and with each rock into her, her moans of delight and pure pleasure filled his ear as his head rest in the crook of her neck, every inch of their bodies pressed as close as they could get. 

Frank couldn’t get enough of her, every single one of his senses was on fire. His fingers tightened around hers as she gave a particularly long purr of delight, and he raised his head to capture her lips, plunging his tongue into her mouth. He released her hands, his own reaching up to cup her face as he continued to move, and her hands flew to his back, the tips of her nails digging into his skin causing him to groan loudly, his head tipping backwards.

“Frankie,” she murmured, and that damned pet name was like a fucking hot wire to his groin and he felt the tell-tale heat striking across his lower stomach.

“You feel so good.” he managed to stutter out, his voice noting but a whine, and at his praise she gave another long, low, sultry gasp, her breath now coming in ragged gasps.

“God, Lissy,” Frank moaned loudly as she titled her hips, pushing back up against him, his head dropping slightly as he struggled to fight his brewing orgasm, his abdomen was tightening in pleasure. “You close?” he gasped and she nodded softly, her lips falling open and once again he kissed her, hard, speeding up ever so slightly.

“Don’t stop.” She begged, her eyes closing, before they opened again to look at him “Please, so good.”

He felt her shudder underneath him and a few thrusts later her back arched and a soft cry escaped her mouth as her eyes fluttered shut, and her head tilted back, mouth open in a now silent scream. He felt her tightening, pulsing around him and that was it, enough to tip him straight over the edge behind her, the surge and ecstasy of his relief causing his whole body to stiffen before he collapsed forward, his head burrowing into her neck.

They lay still for a moment, before he regained enough composure to prop himself up, placing a soft kiss to her lips before he pulled away slightly to find her looking up at him, lips swollen from his kisses, cheeks tinged with pink, and he smiled at the fact she was wearing that just fucked look so damned well.

“You okay?” he asked softly and she nodded, a smile playing on her lips before she kissed him again.

“More than okay.” She grinned, her nails gently scratching at the nape of his neck. “You got moves, Sailor.”

He let out a chuckle as he kissed her again, his lips hovering over hers. “Well you weren’t so bad yourself.”

She laughed and with final kiss he moved to pull out of her. With an apologetic look, as he really didn’t want to move, but, well, he had to, he disappeared into the bathroom and whilst he was gone Fliss smoothed her hair down and got comfortable in the bed. A minute later he returned and slid in besides her and she shuffled slightly to lay her head on his chest, her hand gently raking through the smattering of dark hair which spanned the upper part of her body, and he gave a contented sigh, kissing  the top of her head.

Right there and then Frank knew, and he had no idea how or why, but he just knew that if he never held another woman bar Fliss in his arms again in his life, he wouldn’t give a shit.

And what surprised him more, was that the thought of it being that way didn’t scare him in the slightest.

******

Fliss blinked, and reached over to turn her alarm off, stretching slightly before she glanced at Frank who was asleep on his stomach, his head turned towards her, hair all over the place. With a smile she ran a finger over his jaw before she sat up, and made to get out of bed.

“Where you going?” Frank’s voice was deep and thick with sleep as he reached out to grab her arm. He cracked an eye open and she looked at him, utterly confused.

“Don’t you want a coffee?”

There was a pause as he frowned, because honestly, the last thing on his mind was coffee, and then he watched as a pink flush spread across her cheeks and she looked down, her hand gently fiddling with the pale blue and yellow bed spread which was clutched around her torso. In that split second he realised, this was clearly something that again, that fucker had obviously expected her to do.

“How about,” he sat up, the sheets pooling around his waist as he placed an arm round her waist, gently pulling her back down, “you just stay the fuck in bed…”

She smiled as he bent down to kiss her, his hands tangling in her hair, before she groaned and looked up at him “I gotta get to work.”

“How long?” he asked.

“I need to leave in like an hour.”

“Plenty of time.” he grinned, before he shifted so she was led fully under him, gently nipping at her jaw. And pretty soon coffee was the last thing on her mind as well.

Forty minutes later, Fliss was showered and headed back into her bedroom where Frank was pulling on his jeans. He smiled at her and dropped a kiss to her cheek before he headed into the bathroom himself, quipping that it had been a while since he borrowed a girl’s toothbrush. By the time he emerged, Fliss was pulling on one of her work Polo Shirts and Frank simply took the time to admire her as she bent over to pull a pair of britches out of her dresser, the shirt doing absolutely nothing to hide her pantie clad ass.

And then he saw the lines, little faded silver threads marring her skin and he felt himself grow hot at the sight of the scars.

Fliss tuned to face him and saw the flicker of anger in his eyes and she dropped her gaze. “That’s what I got for having some drunk guy grope me in a bar. Not a pretty sight is it?”

“Hey.” He said, a little sternly as he crossed the room. He tilted her face up to look at him and he locked his eyes onto hers. “Stop.”

She swallowed before he dropped a kiss to her lips and pulled her into a hug. She pressed her cheek to his chest and sighed.

“What if this drunk guy gropes you in a bar?” he asked, in an attempt to break the tension. She laughed and looked up at him.

“If this drunk guy makes me feel like I did last night and this morning, he can grope me whenever the hell he wants.”

Frank tipped his head back and laughed, before she moved back and smiled “You want breakfast?”

“I seem to have worked up an appetite so yeah, sounds good. I’ll be down in a second.” He nodded. 

She smiled at him, called Thor to her who had been lazing on the bed and left the room.

Once she was gone Frank let out a breath, anger still coursing through his veins. If he ever got the chance he’d beat that fucker black and blue. He pulled his T-shirt on, found his socks and then made his way down into the kitchen. Fliss was shoving bread into the toaster as he moved behind her for the mugs before asking her where the coffee was.

Just as she answered, the door to the annex opened and Bill shouted a hello into the house. Frank stiffened slightly, and glanced at Fliss, a little nervous if truth be told that her dad was about to discover he’d spent the night but Fliss simply shook her head at him and smiled.

“Hey Pops, you want coffee?”

“No it’s ok Titch.” Bill’s voice grew nearer. “Was just gonna tell you to leave the back gate unbolted on your side as the pool guy’s coming and he’ll do your tub.” He stopped in the kitchen and smiled, completely unsurprised. “Hey Frank.” “Hi Bill.” Frank nodded, hoping he didn’t look as flustered as he felt.

“No problem Dad, I’ll unlock it before I leave.” Fliss smiled. “Sure you don’t want a drink?”

“No your mum wants to head into Tampa so we’ll be leaving soon.” He said, and then with a wry smile he chuckled. “If you don’t want the third degree I’d wait about fifiteen minutes before you both leave.”

Fliss shook her head with a laugh. “Take it she’s been down spying?”

“Oh yeah. Told me about half an hour ago Frank’s truck was here, and she doubted very much it was simply an early morning call.”

Frank felt his ears growing warm as he looked down at the floor before Fliss nudged him and nodded to the coffee. Thankful for the distraction, he set about pouring them both a mug as Fliss continued chatting to her Dad before Bill made his excuses.

“We’ll be back late tonight.” He said, as he turned to go. “Don’t know what time.”

“Yeah no problems.”

“Have a good day, kids.” He smiled and Frank nodded to him as he left.

“You’ve gone all shy Sailor.” Fliss teased and he groaned.

“Well it’s been a long time since I encountered parents on the morning after.” He shrugged as Fliss handed him a piece of toast. “In fact the last time it happened I was twenty-two…I think.”

“Well, I wouldn’t worry.” She took a bite of her toast. “Dad isn’t the type to chase you down the drive with a pitch fork.” She swallowed her food and a wicked glint flashed in her eyes. “It’s his shot-gun you need to look out for.”

**** Chapter 11

[esmealux]

The Devil Doesn’t Do Children

Part: 1 / ?

Setting: About a year after 5a

Word count: 3.3K

Rating: T

Warnings: Mention of death/murder (and, quite indirectly, foeticide)

Summary: Chloe is sick and Lucifer puts two and two together (with a little help from Dan).

Author’s note: This is my longest work so far. It was meant to be one long piece, but it ended up being 10.8K (!), so I’ve cut it into three parts. And just because I can’t help myself, there’s already a fourth on the way. Enjoy!

Usually, Lucifer wakes up bathed in golden dawn light and wrapped in the warmth of Chloe’s naked body. If it’s not her raucous snoring or the demanding screeches of her alarm that rouse him from his sleep, it is the press of her soft lips against his neck (or somewhere more south, if he’s particularly lucky, and he often is). But not today. Today he wakes up surrounded by darkness in her much too cold bed, and it’s neither her snores nor her kisses which break off his slumber. It’s the sound of Chewbacca being strangled in her bathroom. 

Or, he realises upon fully awakening, Chloe throwing up.

Alarmed and slightly annoyed that vomit of all things is interrupting his peaceful rest, he sits up in bed and stretches his taut body. Grabbing the nearest phone, he checks the time and groans when it says 05.26. Somewhere in his half-asleep mind, he recalls the Danish saying ‘Før Fanden får sko på’—now officially a synonym for 05.26, he thinks as he gets up and walks to the bathroom door barefoot.

‘Detective?’ he asks in a gruff voice, knocking quietly.

‘Don’t come in,’ she commands before heaving again.

He flinches. ‘Believe me, love, I wasn’t planning on it.’

It’s mostly said in jest, because if she asked him, he would be there by her side in a heartbeat. They’ve been through far too much together to care about the other’s less appetising sides. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time he sees her ejecting her stomach contents, having once picked her up from an extraordinarily wild Tribe night. At least he won’t have to stick his fingers down her throat this time.

Eventually, there’s an intermission long enough for her to flush, put down the seat and open the door for him. He enters with reluctance, inspecting her warily as she sits on top of the toilet lid, her head in her hands. When she looks up at him, he gasps. ‘Oh, darling, you look positively terrible’—he leans a bit forward, assessing her ashen face—‘Abominable, really.’ Behind the thick mask of nausea and exhaustion, he thinks he sees her glare.

‘Fancy a toothbrush?’ he offers, already walking past her to find one by the sink. A hint of gratitude glints in her matte eyes as he hands it to her along with a glass of water. He smiles at her and leans against the door frame, eventually looking down to appreciate his pedicure as she rinses her mouth. ‘Is pwobably sumthin I ate,’ she mumbles around foam and toothbrush. He cocks his eye and looks up at her, scoffing. ‘You think?’ When he’d locked himself into her flat late last night after hosting an event at Lux, he’d been greeted by the sight of her and her spawn sleeping on the couch, remains of junk food cluttering up the coffee table before them. The logo on the Styrofoam had made him shake his head in disappointment and disgust. He’d cleaned it up and carried the ladies to their beds, but not before ripping one specific menu card off their fridge and tearing it to pieces. ‘I mean, it’s one thing you order garbage for yourself, but must you punish your offspring in the process? I may detest children, but even I think that’s no way to treat a child. Especially Beatrice. You do realise the men’s room at Lux are cleaner than that place, right?’

In response to his question, she pulls the toothbrush out of her mouth, lifts the lid of the toilet and, once again, disgorges her dinner.

‘My point exactly,’ he replies, before crouching down next to her to hold back her hair.

*

‘Lucifer! Did you make breakfast?!’ The doe-eyed creature shrieks as it appears from its nest, the brown, ungroomed mane falling messily around its head.

‘Good morning to you too, urchin,’ he greets her, looking up from the pot he’s stirring in to give her a half-forced smile as she takes a seat by the counter. He feels a strange itch in his hands to pull out the bar stool for her and help her up (mostly because he can’t be bothered with her tedious jumping), but to his surprise, she climbs the stool with ease—or at least not ungracefully. It tugs at something in his chest the same way it does when he occasionally is compelled to spend time with his nephew, and the babe’s already crawling, or walking, or making sounds that somewhat resemble actual words. For unfathomable reasons, it makes him feel uneasy—but mostly pleased; the sooner they grow up, the sooner they’ll stop being such pains in the-

‘Oh my God, is that bacon? And eggs? And pancakes?!’

He sighs and looks up to chide her for her unjust invocation, but swallows it when he sees her hungry, gleeful eyes. ‘Yes, here. Have some actual food,’ he tells her, nudging the plate and some cutlery in her direction. And some wet wipes, because longer limbs or not, she’s still a sticky child.

‘It’s chocolate chip pancakes!’ she exclaims upon inspecting her breakfast further, as if he didn’t already know. ‘Thank you, Lucifer. You’re the best.’ She’s beaming brightly at him now, and he feels threatened, foreseeing that she, any second, will launch her small body at him and enclose his middle, ruining his Armani suit with her greasy fingers. But she doesn’t. She just sits there and stares at him, her eyes twinkling with an emotion that looks uncannily related to one he has only ever seen in her mother’s eyes.

‘Eh,’ he breathes, his throat tightening. He looks away from her unsettling smiley face and returns his attention to the pot on the stove. ‘Well, it was the least I could do after your supposed caregiver fed you literal poison last night.’

Suddenly reminded of the Detective and her progeny’s shared meal, he turns his head to search the adolescent’s face for any signs of sickness. But she doesn’t look remotely nauseous as she devours her feed like a starving hyena cub. He quirks an eyebrow. ‘I’m guessing from your lupine appetite that you haven’t been praying to the porcelain gods like your mother?’

Beatrice’s brows knit together, her fork pausing mid-air. She (fortunately) swallows her food before she speaks, all joy in her voice suddenly gone, ‘Mom’s sick?’

‘Well, yes, but I’m positive it’ll pass soon. She just needs to… get it out of her system,’ he quickly reassures her, offering her a soft smile. The discomforting concern in the big, brown eyes slowly disappears as absolute delight takes over.

‘Does that mean you’re taking me to school?’ She asks, her small corpus barely able to contain her joy. ‘In your car?!’

He scoffs, feeling attacked. ‘As if I’d ever voluntarily drive your mum’s mind-numbingly boring example of an automobile.’ She grins at that, making a comment about how his is ‘definitely a trazillion times cooler,’ and he smiles at her, smug and victorious. ‘Exactly, child! So, yes, naturally, I will be escorting you in the corvette. But now, march off and get yourself ready while I finish this…’ he pokes around the grey goo in the pot with the wooden spoon, trying not to grimace, ‘oatmeal, for your mother. According to our friend Alexa it’s good for nauseated humans, although I highly doubt it.’

The teenager simply shrugs at that, finishes her breakfast and retreats to her burrow to get dressed. Once the porridge is done, Lucifer pours it in a bowl, puts it on a tray along with a cool glass of coke (also Alexandra’s suggestion) and carries it up to the Detective’s bedroom. He opens the door slowly as to not wake her, but the stubbornest of women is sitting on the edge of the bed, using all strength left in her depleted body to pull on her skinny jeans. Putting down the tray on the nearest surface, he darts over to her with a ‘what in Dad’s name are you doing?!’ and tugs the trousers down her legs and off her. ‘We have to go to work, Lucifer,’ she objects rather weakly, not even trying to put her jeans back on. ‘I have to go to work,’ he corrects her, carefully laying her down once he’s freed both her feet. ‘You, Detective, need to stay here and rest until you can keep it all inside you.’ He senses she’s about to protest again, so he places a kiss on her forehead and assures her, ‘Trust me, dear, everything is taken care of.’ Even as nausea has tinted her face green, she manages to narrow her eyes at him in scepticism. ‘Just promise me you’ll behave,’ she eventually mutters as she gives up and nuzzles into the blankets.

He lightly strokes her shoulder with the back of his fingers and quietly walks out of the room, leaving her with a dramatic sigh and an ‘As you wish.’

*

Daniel is already at the crime scene when Lucifer arrives after depositing the urchin. He’d thought he’d have to go through an entire day of purgatory—or paperwork, as the Detective pronounces it—and it was only worsened by the fact that he wouldn’t have his partner by his side. If she had been there, he could at least have distracted them both with some suggestive looks here, some subtle touches there, and—when he’d worked her into a frenzy of desire—a coffee break or two in the parking garage. Instead, he’d have to endure the agonising tedium on his own, even as there were, at a minimum, three hell loops he’d rather spend his time in than do paperwork at the precinct all day. But then Miss Lopez had called and informed him they’d got a new case. He’d been absolutely delighted (as delighted as it is allowed when someone has dropped dead), but only until he’d made the mistake of telling her that the Detective was home sick, and she’d said that she would ‘call Espinoza ASAP’ and tell him to meet them at the scene. If he had just kept his mouth shut, he could have got the case all to himself, instead of having Detective Douche tag along.

Taking a deep breath, he checks his cuffs and takes his time approaching the douche in question. ‘Sorry I’m late. Your spawn spent quite some time choosing the right attire,’ Lucifer offers in greeting. Daniel looks him up and down with raised eyebrows, his eyes landing on the perfectly folded crimson pocket square. ‘For a normal school day? Wonder who inspired that kind of vanity in her.’

‘Well, it certainly wasn’t her father,’ Lucifer deadpans and nods towards Daniel’s hoodie/jacket/jeans-combination.

With a humourless laugh and a shake of his head, Dan stuffs his hands in his pockets and turns on his heels to walk up the stairs and into the residential building. After bringing out his flask and taking a long swig, Lucifer follows him.

When they enter the flat, Miss Lopez is leaning over the body with her camera. The sight is oddly welcoming. Comfortably familiar. She’d only come back a week ago after being away for a little over a month, on a much-deserved vacation in New Zealand, and Lucifer had missed her cheerful spirit and their crime scene banter terribly. The latter is, much to Lucifer’s annoyance, cut short today by Daniel ‘Buzz-Kill’ Espinoza’s ‘So, Ella, what can you tell us about the vic?’

It’s a rather uninteresting case; a woman, Laura Greene, 26, has been murdered in her home. Stabbed with a kitchen knife, first in the abdomen, then the chest. No signs of B&E, no signs of struggle. A swift and impulsive act—no doubt a crime of passion according to Ella. The most obvious culprit would be an angered partner, but the roommate, who found the body, tells them the victim wasn’t in a relationship and rarely went on dates or brought anyone home. On top of that, Roomie can’t think of anyone who would hurt dear Laura. And the neighbours are just as useless; one is a deaf elder lady, and the others were chasing the dragon at the time of death. The rest of the floor haven’t heard or noticed anything either. Consequently, they have absolutely nothing once they get to the precinct. Ella goes through evidence and Daniel through piles and piles of papers, leaving Lucifer to stand awkwardly in the corner of Ella’s lab, with no desires to unveil or miscreants to threaten.

As to not die of boredom, he zooms out and lets his mind wander. He’s in the middle of designing a strategy for how to make Chloe finally agree to try the deliciously sinful position he considers one of his favourites when Ella’s frustrated sigh interrupts his planning.

‘Something troubling you, Miss Lopez?’ he asks her, pulling out his flask.

She tells him she has nothing. No match on the fingerprints from the murder weapon, no useful surveillance tapes, no clues at the scene that can tell her the gender, age, or occupation of the murderer. Nada. Just the fact that it was done in a moment of heat.

Before Lucifer can answer, Dan walks in with a puzzled look on his ill-favoured face, his arms filled with highlighted printouts. ‘Could she’ve been pregnant?’

Ella tilts her head. ‘I mean, it’s not impossible, but based on what her roommate told us, I wouldn’t bet my money on it. You know, because our girl Laura had no boy toyz.’

Lucifer can’t hold back a snort. ‘Please, Miss Lopez, all it takes is a boy toy, singular, ten minutes in a bathroom stall and the absence of contraceptives.’

Dan looks at him with disgust and horror before shaking his head and returning his attention to Ella. ‘Well, no,’ he answers her, ignoring Lucifer’s comment entirely, ‘but then I thought about the other thing her roommate said, about Laura throwing up during the past weeks, and I thought-’

‘But Michelle said she thought it was an eating disorder, like Laura’d had before,’ Ella interrupts him, looking to Lucifer for support. He just purses his lips and looks back. Truth be told, when they’d been talking to the roommate, the mentioning of vomit had reminded him of his feeble Detective at home and he’d excused himself to send her a text. He therefore hadn’t heard whatever explanation the woman had offered (nor her arguments for why the victim’s sickness would be relevant to them). Fortunately, Dan answers.

‘Yeah, I know, I thought that too, but then I saw she paid a bill to an OB-GYN earlier this month, and it could just be a gynaecological check-up or something, but then I remembered how badly Chloe suffered from morning sickness when she was pregnant with Trixie, so I…’

Lucifer stops listening as Daniel’s words—one in particular—suddenly whirl around him, loud and ominous. His heart starts pounding faster and his throat goes dry. He instinctively grips the edge of the lab table.

‘Surely there could be other explanations,’ he manages to get out, interrupting his co-workers’ discussion. ‘Food poisoning, for instance.’

Dan and Ella look at him with equally sceptical looks. ‘Not for ten days straight,’ Ella argues.

‘But there is a myriad of reasons for a woman to throw up,’ he defends as he starts frantically googling. ‘Indigestion, stomach bug, chemotherapy, motion sickness… aha, migraine!’

When Lucifer looks up from his phone, Daniel is looking at him like he’s questioning his sanity. Miss Lopez seems concerned too, but more in an ‘dude, you okay?’-way than anything else.

Ella slowly takes her eyes off Lucifer’s face and eyes Dan shortly. ‘Well, we can’t know for sure before we get the final results from the autopsy, but from what Dan has found, she could quite possibly be pregnant.’

‘But,’ Lucifer objects, barely audibly, like someone has knocked the wind out of him, ‘she can’t be.’ He’s staring out into empty air, unwelcome images suddenly flooding his mind, as Daniel and Miss Lopez continue talking. He’s on the verge of what he thinks might be a panic attack when a voice, her voice, drags him out of his own head.

‘Hey guys,’ she greets them. She’s hoarse and looks a little tired, but the green tinge is gone.

‘Detective,’ is what he manages to say back. She looks at him with soft eyes and it’s enough for him to come back to his senses for a moment. Surprised by her presence, he begins to ask, ‘Are you done-’

He was going to say ‘puking your guts out’ but she widens her eyes at him and cuts him off, ‘Having a bad headache? Yes, thank you, Lucifer. I just needed some rest.’

‘Right,’ he mumbles, giving her one slow nod. She walks over to stand close beside him and brushes her fingers against the back of his hand, somehow sensing that he’s tense. 

‘Okay, what have we got?’ She looks to Dan and Ella and lets go of Lucifer’s hand. He instantly misses her touch.

They fill Chloe in, telling her about everything from the lack of leads to small, seemingly insignificant details. When she’s completely up to date, she has that look on her face, eyes slightly narrowed, like she has a (historically, clever) theory.

‘Well,’ she begins, still visibly thinking, ‘it does take two to tango.’ She side-eyes Lucifer, a small smirk playing at the corner of her lips. It’s clear she expects a remark or a praising grin in return, and he tries, but it comes out as a grimace and a strained ‘eh’. She gives him a funny look before continuing her theory, ‘What I mean is, boyfriend or not, there’s still a father out there. Maybe he found out and couldn’t handle the news? Maybe he was married to someone else? Or… he just didn’t want to be a dad?’

Lucifer feels his heartbeat speed up once again. An odd emotion he can’t quite name spreads in his chest. It feels like a disease.

‘Sure seems like motive, but how are we gonna find him?’ Dan asks. Not one second later, Miss Lopez’ ‘found him!’ sounds from where she’s leaning over her computer. ‘Tech just got access to her photos —kinda tricky since she had this super secure lock-’

‘Who is he, Ella?’ Chloe demands.

Ella clicks on the screen and turns the computer around so they can see. ‘The guy’s everywhere in her camera roll. I don’t know, he seems kinda familiar, but-’

‘That’s Max Steinfeld!’ Dan exclaims when he sees the photo. It’s taken in bed, post-orgasm Lucifer would say, judging from the blissful aura. Laura’s got a hand on the man’s chest who, indeed, is the chap who starred on that horrible teenage comedy show and today is trying to redeem himself by doing mediocre action movies and… settling down with Hollywood’s sweetheart. 

‘But he’s dating Simone Riley,’ Lucifer enlightens his colleagues upon his revelation. ‘They’re tying the knot this spring.’

Chloe shoots him a questioning look, and he tells her he got a mani-pedi the other day. She nods her head in understanding.

‘Well, if he’s engaged, he probably wasn’t ecstatic when Laura told him she was pregnant with his baby.’

As she asks Dan to get the actor’s current location all Lucifer can do is stand there and stare at her, as if he might find the answers to the thousands of questions in his head written on the side of her face. But he doesn’t. He only finds the familiar beauty mark, a perfectly pointed eyebrow, and the smooth, marble-like skin of the woman he loves. And it makes him yearn for those answers even more.

Part II  |  Part III  | Part IV (coming soon)

[kyber-crystal]

➳ pickup lines || s.w.

summary: you’re oblivious to the fact that sam, your best friend is hopelessly in love with you. and it kills him inside because he’s been dropping hints for as long as he can remember. 

warnings: none, just fluff and a cliche best friends to lovers trope :) 

words: almost 2k

a/n: for @marvelsswansong​ ‘s late birthday present! sorry this was so late and that it’s so bad RIP i tried to write it in one go...anyway our boy sam deserves some more recognition sksksk

“Guess what this shirt is made of?” Sam smirked as he pointed at himself. “Boyfriend material.”

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a chuckle. “Oh, stop it.”

He slid into the seat next to you at the kitchen counter, swiping the spare muffin from your plate. “Y’know what’s on the menu today? Me-n-u.”

You just shook your head, spreading jam across your toast before biting into it. “Wow.”

“They say Disneyland is the happiest place on earth,” he cleared his throat, “well, apparently, nobody has ever been standing next to you. You are absolutely breathtaking.”

“I look gross,” you argued as you tried to hide your face with one hand, “I got three hours of sleep after helping Bruce in the labs and I’m a mess.”

“Don’t be silly, Y/N. You always look beautiful. Especially to me.”

Even if he was joking, you couldn’t help but feel the butterflies in your stomach at his comment.

“Oh my god, will you shut UP,” Bucky groaned. “You’re cheesy as fuck, Wilson.”

“You’re just jealous because nobody likes you,” Sam retorted. 

“Ooh, shots fired,” you whispered, cupping your hands around your mouth, “need some ice for that burn, Barnes?”

“He isn’t wrong, though,” Wanda shrugged, pouring herself a mug of coffee, “the chemistry is evident here. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten together yet.”

You let out a long sigh and went back to focusing on finishing your meal, not noticing the several glances Sam stole out of the corner of his eye at you.

...

“Y/N. “

“Natasha,” you replied without breaking your concentration on murdering the punching bag in front of yourself. 

“Girl, how long are you going to keep this act up for?”

You dropped your fists by your side, sighing. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You and Wilson.”

“What about it?” you questioned as you began unwrapping the tape from your hands. She handed you your water bottle and you took a long sip, “We’re best friends. I don’t see anything special about that.”

“Best friends or not, he clearly likes you. I’m not gonna sugarcoat this: you’ve been the most oblivious idiot ever. If what he’s doing isn’t obvious enough, then I don’t know what is.”

“He does not. Sam’s just being Sam. That’s who he is. It’s in his nature to joke around.”

“Does he use pickup lines on me in every other sentence he speaks? No. Does he do that to Bucky? Never-”

“Because him and Bucky are rivals, and you guys are just f...”

“Just friends! Babe, you proved my point.”

“Oh, shut up...”

“If you don’t take matters into your own hands, then I will. You keep turning the poor man down and you don’t even know it. Tragic.”

“Natasha, I do not like any-” The redhead gave you her signature ‘look’, crossing her arms over your chest. Your shoulders sagged in defeat. “Fine. I don’t know. I guess I’m scared.”

“What reason do you have to be scared? You’ve gotten shot, you’ve led countless teams into battle before, you’ve taken out aliens with the power of your fists alone. Hell, we survived the Red Room together, and you’re afraid of catching feelings?”

“What if I embarrass myself by telling him?”

“Are you nuts? He’d be over the moon if you did so much as react to what he said. Poor guy’s feeling discouraged by your poker face. Give him a chance. He’s your best friend, you don’t wanna ruin the relationship you have together.”

“Fiiiiiine.” You whined and tossed your sweaty towel at her. “Now leave me alone so I can go take a shower.”

She laughed and tossed it back. “Alright. Tell me when you’re officially dating!”

“I hate you!”

“Love you too, babe!” she called out after you as you left the facility.

...

“SAM!” you yelled from the bathroom “Get your ass over here!”

“Am I in trouble?” he asked innocently as he peeked his head through your doorway. “You need something?”

“I forgot to bring a shirt with me. Can you get mine from the laundry? The black one?”

“Yeah, of course.” You heard him shuffling around before falling silent, then there was a knock on your door. “Here. Take this.”

“Thanks,” you nodded before taking the shirt and closing the door behind you. 

You looked down and let out a groan when you realized he’d mixed up the shirts and given you his instead - a V-neck you’d seen him wear plenty of times when you, him, and Steve went on morning runs together. It was ridiculously tight on him and you absolutely hated it because you couldn’t help but stare. But you didn’t like him. Definitely not.

Right?

Right.

You trudged down the hall to the kitchen, walking into to see Bucky’s and Sam’s awaiting smirks.

Crossing your arms, you raised an eyebrow at him, “Samuel, where is my shirt?”

“Dunno,” he feigned innocence, “I got mixed up.”

“Okay.”

“I’m no photographer, but I can picture you and me together,” he sent you a finger gun and a flirty wink. 

You rolled your eyes for what felt like the millionth time that day. “You’re such a sap.”

“Y/N! Hi!” Peter dropped his backpack and rushed forward, tackling you into a big hug. 

You stumbled backwards in surprise but quickly returned the gesture, ruffling his hair playfully. “Hey, kid. How was school?”

He made a face. “Sucked. I actually need your help with an assignment. I’m supposed to interview three role models in my life about stuff and Mr. Stark is in the middle of a conference call right now so...yeah.”

“Oh!” Your eyes widened in pleasant surprise. “Me? I’m not special-”

“If you weren’t special then Ned wouldn’t constantly fangirl over you to me. He always asks me if it’s true you can shoot lasers out of your eyes and hands.”

You chuckled. “I feel honored. Count me in, Queens.”

The two of you headed off to the labs together, and as soon as you left, Sam let out a loud groan, his face falling into his hands. “She doesn’t get it. I keep throwing hints her way but she doesn’t get it at all. I don’t understand. What exactly am I doing wrong?”

“Y/N isn’t an openly affectionate person. She rarely ever tells people how she feels. She usually conveys her emotions through killing her enemies and channeling all her energy into punching bags,” Bucky replied simply. “And the occasional Mario Kart deathmatch. She’s not very easy to read.”

“Even I had a hard time getting to her,” Wanda admitted. “She’s very...private. Prefers to keep her feelings to herself.”

“Does she even have any sort of clue?” Sam looked over at the young woman with a desperate look in his eyes. “Otherwise I’ve been humiliating myself all this time, for nothing.”

“She likes you, but she’s too afraid to admit it,” Steve suddenly spoke up. All heads turned in his direction. “It’s a thing I picked up from my ma when I was young. I can read into body language. And hers, well...she likes you, Sam. She’s just very subtle about it.”

Hope glimmered in his eyes. “She does? So she doesn’t mind my pickup lines?”

The super-soldier laughed. “As terrible as some of them may be, yeah, she doesn’t. I’ve seen her walk away flustered many times.”

“What do I do now?”

“You’re gonna win her over, once and for all,” Natasha declared. “And we’re making sure of that.”

...

“Y/N.”

“Pete.” You glanced over at the teenager, who had stopped furiously scribbling notes down in his notebook, “what’s up?”

“What’s up is you and Sam.”

“What about us?” You quirked an eyebrow. “I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” The boy wrinkled his nose, “I know he likes you, and you like him. So why do you keep pushing him away?”

“Peter-”

“Y/N, I’ve known about this since we first met. So why haven’t you made a move yet?”

“I don’t know.”

“He’s trying his hardest to win you over and you’re refusing to budge! I bet he feels so bad about it.”

“Oh, God, I know...” you rubbed your forehead and let out a long sigh, “I just don’t know how to react.”

“Send a pickup line right back at him! He loves pickup lines, so gauge his reaction on that!”

“Alright...”

"Back to Chemistry! Which you two clearly already have...”

“Queens!”

“Okay, okay!” You both burst into laughter. “Okay!”

The team had all agreed on an outdoor barbecue, so you all gathered outside on the massive rooftop of the compound to eat dinner. Tony, Thor, Steve, and Rhodey were busy flipping the meat, Wanda and Pepper were setting up the refreshments, while the others were lounging around and casually conversing with one another. 

You noticed Sam standing alone by the edge, hands stuffed in his pockets as he stared out ahead at the horizon. He seemed to be deep in thought, but as soon as he turned around and saw you approaching him, his face lit up with a grin that the others knew he only had when you were around. 

“Hey,” you offered him a small smile. You felt your heart skip a beat as you locked eyes - the early evening glow only made him look better than he already was. “Penny for your thoughts, Wilson?”

“Are you a magician? ‘Cause when I look at you, everyone else disappears,” he stated.

“Are you a parking ticket? Because you’ve got ‘fine’ written all over you,” you replied smoothly, taking him by surprise. This was a first --

“Am I dreaming, or did Y/N just send me back a cheesy pickup line?”

“I did,” you laughed lightly, breaking into what he thought was the most beautiful sight on earth - a million-dollar smile. He’d never forget it. “How’s your week been?”

“Uneventful. You?”

Your face fell momentarily, and he felt his heart drop at the same time. “Could’ve been better.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

You took in a deep breath before responding. “Fury’s got me leading Team Alpha in a recon down south in the Outer Banks. Then as soon as I get back, I’m called to represent the team at a press conference about disaster relief. After that I’m stuck filing reports for a solid six hours and I end up only eating one meal that day. So yeah...it’s been pretty rough.”

“Did you make up for all that lost sleep, though?”

“A little. Compared to my typical three hours, I’d say 5 is a good enough improvement.”

“Progress is what matters. And you did that,” he nodded. “Look, if you ever need someone to talk to...you know I’m always here, right?”

“Definitely. That doesn’t eliminate our weekly Mario Kart competitions with Bucky, right?”

“Of course not.”

“Good.”

You stood there in silence for who knows how long, until he spoke up again.

“Did you know that when you smile, you can’t breathe?”

“Really?” You looked straight at him and gave him the brightest smile your face could produce. 

“I’m kidding. I just wanted to see you smile.”

At that moment, all the Avengers immediately stopped what they were doing and froze on the spot. 

“I think you broke her,” Peter whispered as he poked you in the shoulder multiple times, and you didn’t move. “That was smoother than butter.”

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish but no words came out, face burning with heat - the butterflies in your stomach had turned to hummingbirds. Since when did he make you feel this way?

“Yup,” Bucky coughed, “she’s definitely in love with him.”

"I’m not in love with him, I love him. I have for a while,” you muttered so quietly that he almost didn’t catch what you said. 

Now, it was Sam’s turn to be left speechless.

[okayohay]

BURNT VACANT RED

I’m sorry for the hold up, but it’s been a while since I’ve shared any type of fanfiction content that I’m struggling with getting back into it, mainly because I know how much I expect from myself with my writing and I don’t want to let this community down specifically. I’d like to explain this story for a second if I can. It is going to be broken down into around ten parts. The chapters will be long and the first one is world building, so please bear with me if you can. I kind of need to set the scene and dig into some history to set the rest of the story up and not have to deal with explanations later. I hope to have the second part up quickly for you all, and I promise you Van becomes more present in chapter two. I hope you enjoy this for what it is. Thanks for reading this crappy introduction. Word count is 7273, and you can also find this on my Wattpad along with my other fanfictions. Peace and love. 

ONE

 This story doesn’t start happy.

You can’t believe you said “no”.

You toss your handbag toward the couch and underestimate how far away it is, so it clatters to the floor instead where you leave it. As if the worst moment of your life needed theatrics, the rain streams down your ninth-floor condo windows violently and bits of lightning flash off Lake Michigan under the watermark of an evening sky. The Gold Coast of Chicago stretches beyond your window, dumping itself along the shoreline until you lose sight of everything other than lights of nearby suburbs.

You cover your face with your hands and that’s when you realize you’re shaking. You sink slowly to the floor and take a few deep breaths as the evening’s memories bite into your skin. You wince and the embarrassment of the situation sets in. You can’t get over the way Nick’s face looked, and the people around the two of you standing with mouth’s agape as they watch you back away from your boyfriend.

Boyfriend.

The word makes you want to be sick.

He’s not your boyfriend anymore.

At least, you doubt he is. Not after this.

Three hours ago, he wanted to be your fiancé.

But you…said…no.

In hindsight, you knew this was coming, but not like this. Not this quick.

Nick wanted to take you out for dinner and the two of you hadn’t been making very much time for each other lately. You’d finished off your internship in the winter and the company offered you a full-time position as the marketing coordinator. They were a small yet prominent, independent music company that hosted everything from small concerts to large scale festivals. When you took the job, you took away a huge chunk of your free time and it rubbed Nick the wrong way at first. But he eventually accepted a promotion of his own and spent three days a week traveling and you were lucky to get a phone call some nights. It sent the sane and patient part of your relationship into a quick demise. You nit-picked each other for things that wouldn’t have mattered before, and the glittery shine of what once was started to dull.

You’d been bickering more frequently than you should have been, especially for not seeing each other often. But you always came around because Nick knew everything about you. Nick was the boy you were never supposed to date, the rebound after the love of your life walked away from you. Nick had taken on the role of sewing you back up and keeping you together, and you stayed with him ever since. It seemed like the right thing to do. You loved him, but not in the same red way you loved the boy before him, but you did love him. That candle was lit, but the flame never seemed to burn quite right.

You’d been together for three years. It was time to get serious about the future and you knew that. The two of you were woven deeply into the facets of each other’s lives and it was only time before he popped the question. You just didn’t think it’d be this soon. You figured you’d at least be living together first. You figured you’d be somewhere exotic and you’d have time to pose for a photo afterwards. But your expectations prove how little you really know about life and the deep meanings of it.

You didn’t expect that you’d decline the offer when it was proposed to you either. But you did.

You always pictured the moment in your mind and it went exactly the opposite of what you expected. Playing out like a terrible movie you didn’t have the guts to walk out of early, so you suffer through it.

He took you to one of the upscale restaurants downtown, the kind where the waiter pulls out your chair for you and adjusts your cloth napkin every time you move it. You never liked the elegant parts of life that others longed for. You craved simple things, but Nick was the opposite. Nick grew up with money and a family who dined in eloquence. Nick pined for these types of places and things. Even though his music taste matched your alternative ones, he still needed the finer things in life. He didn’t pick this place for you, he picked it for himself, for his status. He seemed antsy so you did most of the talking which wasn’t out of the ordinary. You started telling him about your job and how there was potential for an opening in the Charleston office and the owner had personally recommended you to HR there. The excitement in your voice was evident and you rambled on about the endeavor. You’d been keeping it to yourself and tonight seemed like the appropriate night to share it. You loved the southern states, particularly South Carolina, and Nick knew this about you. But his reaction was less than positive.

“You can’t be serious. You would really move to South Carolina for work?”

You nod once, reaching for the Sauvignon Blanc with greedy, nervous fingers.

“You’d move, away from your family, from Tessa���from me?”

The mention of your family strikes a nerve and your stomach twists into a knot at the thought of not getting to see your teenage brother as often as you do now, and even that wasn’t often enough. The thought of leaving Tessa, your best friend, and the condo you share with her rips you in a million pieces. Every favorite memory of your short adult life was wrapped up in that place and with her.

“I haven’t given any of it much of a thought yet.”

Nick smirks. “Of course not. You just jumped…like you always do. Like you did when they offered you the position here.”

“Nick…it’s been my dream to be working in this field. You’ve known this since you met me. I was lucky to have been offered the position straight out of an internship.”

He shakes his head. “And you’re in love with what you do.”

“Yes.” You state flatly. This was nothing new. Everyone knew how much music meant to you. You could talk to a stranger from anything regarding 1970’s rock clear through modern day, indie-alternative. You gushed about music to anyone who wanted to listen regardless if it was a stranger or a friend. But Nick didn’t like the fact that you felt so strongly about your career. In the world he came from, girlfriend’s and wives held their career second to their relationships.

“More in love than it with me?” He leaned forward as he asked the question, splaying his hands against the table frantically.

You don’t say anything and you let the thought simmer in the back of your mind, dissecting his sentence and reading between the lines of his words. “Are you asking me to choose?”

He shakes his head. “I’m not asking you anything…yet. I’m trying to figure out what you want, because lately…I’m not sure.”

You lean forward to mimic his reaction, and do your best to maintain what little ground you currently have. It’s a small island, but it’s yours and you’re not the type to back down into the corner. “I guess that question can go both ways. I’m not the only one who buries myself in work. When was the last time you were home five days in a row? Between the conventions and the meetings, you’re in town a total of eight days a month. I know I’ve been wrapped up in work, but it’s because I landed the job I worked so hard for, a job that was my dream. You can’t blame me for that. Especially when you’re guilty of the same thing.”

“To be very clear, what I do at work is not my dream.” Nick confesses.

“Well then you should figure out what you want and do that.” You bite back with a knee-jerk response.

“I want to be with you. And you want to move?”

You turn your face to the side on a shrug and release a deep breath. “Yes. I want to move. I told Jacob I was interested in it. That’s why he made the call.”

Nick drums his fingers against the tabletop nervously. “I can’t go with you.”

You sip the wine and set it down softly on a shrug. “I didn’t ask you to.”

Nick narrows his eyes at you. “What, so we’re supposed to just make long distance work?”

You hadn’t thought about any of this, you were just excited to have a potential opportunity in a place you always wanted to be. “I guess.”

The two of you don’t speak much after that and Nick spends the time scrolling through his phone and glancing around every now and again nervously. You pick at your food, losing more of your appetite the longer you sit there. You don’t accept the to-go box when the waiter offers it and Nick pays the bill quickly and escorts you out of the building.

The walk to the condo you share with you best friend is tense and uncomfortable. Nick pauses at an intersection before deciding he wants to take the long way through the park adjacent to your building. You entertain his desire to take the long way to your door, figuring he needs to blow off steam and there’s only so many places you can find solace in a city. You’re two steps behind him until he gets to a small corner with concrete retaining walls that people use as benches. He sits and rubs the back of his neck. You watch him battle with words he doesn’t know how to say and you figure the least you can do is get on his level. You sit next to him and reach for his face instinctively. He snatches your fingers and eyeballs them before interlacing them with his own.

“I didn’t expect to be in a fight right now. It’s not how I wanted this to go.”

“It’s not a fight- “you say softly but he interrupts you and shakes his head.

“It feels like a war.” He whispers and your frown.

“Nick…I need to do this. I need to go. I haven’t wanted anything more than this in my life. It’s important to me.”

He laughs and rolls his shoulders, removing his hand from yours and you look over your shoulder, silently praying for a crowd of people to walk over and interrupt the hostility the two of you are facing. But only a few strangers dare to walk over to this section of the park, and they seem less than interested in whatever dilemma you two are hanging onto and more interested in their own stories. Nick reaches into his pocket and you turn back to him on a sigh, but your eyes land on the small box in the palm of his hand before fluttering to his face. He bites his lip and shakes his head.

“I planned to have a fantastic evening with you. I was going to ask you to move in with me, and after you said yes, I was going to order a bottle of champagne and then I was going to walk you home just like this, and stop here at this place and ask you why the good news should stop here. And then I was going to get down on my knee and tell you how much I loved you.”

Nick proceeds to do just that, and he takes your hand with him in the process. Everything below your neck goes numb and you can’t feel your fingers in his hand.

“And then I was going to tell you that I needed to be with you forever, and that in order to do that I needed you to be my wife.” He pauses and opens the box, revealing a large, square diamond matching the same one his brother gave his wife. It wasn’t your style at all, and maybe at one point in your life it would have meant the world to you, but in this moment, it feels wrong.

“I’m still going to ask that of you, because even in our worst moments, our most uncomfortable moments, you’re still worth it and I want to be with you forever. Please marry me. Because there isn’t a life for me without you, good or bad moments, I’ll take them.”

You freeze and hear a whisper from across the patio. A couple has spotted the proposal in action and is waiting for your reaction and they look prepared to applaud. You look back at Nick, at the ring, and then you exhale and pull your hand out of his slowly.

“Nick…”

He furrows his eyebrows at you as you lean away from him and tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Can we talk about this?”

Nick doesn’t move out of his position and glances around nervously, raking his free hand through his wavy blond hair. “Is that your answer?”

You shake your head. “Nick…I can’t, we can’t.”

He snaps the box shut and the couple across from you turns away quickly after their jaw’s both drop habitually. You pretend not to notice and Nick stands up slowly.

“Oh God.” He whispers and presses his fingers into the side of his head.

“I’m sorry…” you confess, but it breaks out and you choke on a cry.

Nick shakes his fingers at you and closes his eyes harshly as if he’s wishing himself out of the situation. When he opens them, he looks nervous, and you don’t remember seeing this look on him before. It stones you and you sit up straighter before rising to your feet and walking toward him. You rest your hand on his arm and he shrugs you off of him quickly.

“I told my parents I was asking you. I figured you’d say yes…” His words trail off as he paces the area for something to do. “They figured you’d say it, too. And now I have to tell them…”

“Can we talk about this? Please?”

“It’s not really a question you need to talk about. It’s either yes or no.” His voice becomes a fortress and you realize you’re not getting in.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry but I’m not ready for this.” You admit breathlessly.

“Not ready for this, or not ready for me?”

You can hear the crestfallen tone his voice has taken on and deep down, you know that he knew this was coming, too. Maybe he thought he could heed it off, and curb whatever light from you flame back into his court. But it was over. It’d been over for a long time, and maybe this was the only way for things to burn out.

“It’s not you.” You admit loosely.

“Oh, it’s not me, it’s you, right? We’re going to have to that moment now?”

You shake your head. “No. I mean for me…it’s not you. You’re not the one for me and I’m not the one for you, Nick. We both know this.”

Nick shakes his head and looks like he’s going to cry. “Are you kidding me? When was I supposed to know this? Because for three years we’ve done everything together. Why would I think anything else?”

“I’m sorry.” You say again, but Nick stopped listening. He stopped listening when he stormed away from you with his hands in the air, and left you in the park with your thoughts without saying goodbye.

And now, now you were alone in your apartment with no memory of how you made it back, dissecting the memories of a few hours before, and trying to figure out if the night had gone like he wanted, would you have said yes to him? You chew on the thought before realizing that you would have said no either way. You weren’t sure what was supposed to happen in your life, but you knew one thing; you were not supposed to marry Nick.

------

You spend the next several weeks cramming your life into boxes and selling what you don’t want or need. You pack everything up and label what’s in each box with a bold sharpie. You ordered furniture for your new place in Charleston, leaving Tessa with pretty much everything. She helps you pack after work each night and the goodbye with her is harder than anything you could have imagined. Your goodbye to your family was difficult, but you were used to being away from them for weeks at a time by now, it’s saying goodbye to the person you’ve shared fifteen years doing everything with that forces you to breakdown. You spend the first few hours of the drive crying, and wondering if you’re doing the right thing. But by the time you make it into the Carolinas, the decision you made seems like the best one. You roll down your windows and let the air in, turning your music up in the process because some songs need air. You instantly feel relief when the humidity of the south laps at your skin and sticks to you.

Your new place is sandwiched along the Battery and the views of the water make you feel at home even though the Atlantic is much more appealing to you than Lake Michigan. It’s a small, two story home and the exterior is painted in pastel blue. The flowers from the previous tenant spill out of the boxes along the windowsill and you water them with a leftover bottle of water that grew warm from being inside of your car. It takes you seven trips to unload your car and you leave the boxes in the living room while you unpack your suitcase with all your clothes first. Your furniture is set to arrive tomorrow, so you plan to sleep on a pile of pillows and blankets that you throw on the floor. By the time you’re ready to move to the living room, the sun is almost down and the golden light spewing across the water stains your walls in hues of brass. You order food from a nearby sushi restaurant that delivers and quietly go about pulling things out of boxes and deciding where to put them.

You get to a box that Tessa packed for you and there’s a letter on the top. You pull it out and skim it, trying not to cry for the tenth time of the day. She tells you she is proud of you and how much she loves you, and the box is filled with some of your best memories with her, including photos and mementos from the last decade. You pull out a photo album you didn’t know existed along with a stack of photos underneath it, a handful of ticket stubs from the days before everything became digital, and lanyards from festivals you forgot you attended.

You fold your legs and sit Indian-style on the floor while you flip through the photographs. There are standard photos of you and Tessa at music festivals, blended within crowds of people, laughing wildly while bands that no longer exist play behind you on stage. You’d almost forgotten this part of your life. You were nineteen back then and a version of yourself you didn’t remember. Now, you were on the wrong end of twenty-six and you hadn’t been to a concert in this context in years. You smile at the photos of Tessa passed out along the festival grounds, surrounded by friends you hadn’t seen in too long. You’re interrupted by your food arriving and you accept it graciously as your stomach growls, reminding you that you hadn’t eaten all day. You pile a few bites into your mouth and sit back down, returning to your stack of photos. You flip through party photos, pictures from college that you’re shocked Tessa went to the trouble of printing, and laugh at the pictures of the two of you at high-school graduation.

You nearly drop the stack at what comes next, and you stop chewing your food for a moment as you narrow your eyes on the picture on top of the pile. You set the stack down as you bring the photo in your hands closer to your face, holding it with shaking fingers. It’s a photograph of you in your former life, with people who have since become strangers. But it’s you and the person whose face is pressed against yours that makes you physically ache. It’s a picture of you and your ex-boyfriend, the one who you loved violently and effortlessly at the same time. A picture that you didn’t realize existed because you’d never even seen it until now. You barely recognize yourself. Your hair was long and spilled around your shoulders in waves. You look happy and young, a cigarette dangling from your fingers as your ex-boyfriend clings to you for life. Your throat bobs with a nervousness that feels so foreign to you, you can’t even give it a name. You eventually start to chew on your food again before you swallow it, feeling your appetite wane.

You glance to the stack and see more photos from the same night. You flit through them anxiously, splaying them across the floor of your living room and bringing them close to your face to analyze them on a deeper level. These were moments of your life you hadn’t probed in years, moments of your life you’d done your best to forget. But here they were, printed in permanent reminders for you to tap into. Your ex is in all of them, wrapped around you, smoking a cigarette or strumming on a guitar while you laid on the couch next to him. Your chest tightens at the memory of that particular night, remembering how he confessed to you that he actually did love you, and then he played a song he wrote for you. You let yourself think about him for a moment, something you hadn’t done in years, and you’re shocked to find his ghost still eager to be summoned in the back of your mind.

Van. His name was Van and he had been the greatest love of your life.

You wince at the sound of his name in your mind. The last time you spoke of him was to Nick, early on in your relationship when you were explaining why you hadn’t dated in so long. You told him the truth; you loved Van deeply and it was the hardest blow to your heart you’d received. Nick listened with genuine interest, and at that point, you were in the very early stages of your relationship with him. Nick never experienced a serious relationship before the one he shared with you, but he shared stories of girls he’d dated and moments of his own life where he felt a connection to someone, but none of it held a candle to the relationship you had with Van.

His name sends another ripple through your chest and you feel like you could be sick. Every emotion you’d worked so hard at ignoring for the last three years came back like a hurricane and settled into your skin quickly. How could you have forgotten about this part of your life so easily? You blame Nick. He’d been a good hinderance to the feelings you had for Van. He picked up the pieces that were left of you and arranged them into some sort of version of yourself that made it so you could at least carry on. You’d let him become a distraction to your feelings, and parts of him reminded you of Van. His love for music being one of them. You’d become so wrapped up in Nick, that you could easily forget about Van, until now at least, when your distraction was no longer a part of your life. Nick was a replacement, or maybe a bandage and Van was the wound that didn’t heal properly regardless of how much pressure you applied to it.

The stack of photos begs you to go on, and you find more evidence of the life you’d left in the past. Van was the lead singer of a band from the UK, and you met him when you were working the office of a small venue in Chicago six years ago. He’d found you before his set when he locked himself out of his band’s dressing room. He’d spent the last fifteen minutes looking for someone to help him and you were the only person he had any luck tracking down. He introduced himself and told you a short version of a long-winded story regarding how this happened. Even though you should have fact checked him or went to find a manager, you felt sorry for him so, you obliged and unlocked the door for him. Maybe you were intrigued by his accent and the strange name of his band. Or maybe it was the iciness of his blue eyes and the way his hair spilled into them that made it easy for you to oblige. After your help, he made sure to invite you to the show and made you promise you’d catch part of it. He told you that you were witnessing history in the making and that Catfish and the Bottlemen were going to be the biggest band in the world. You laughed at his genuine confidence and even though you feigned interest with him, you watched from the balcony where no one was seated. They were good, and his energy on stage made it hard for you to look away from him. You were fairly certain he’d noticed you up there, but you blushed and turned away anytime you caught him glancing your way.

Afterwards, you locked the front doors and pulled your bag from the ticket booth, flicking off lights as you went. You shuffled out the side door, surprised to find Van, and two other people standing there sharing cigarettes and beers. He looked less nervous, more playful even, and gave you a hug when he recognized you. He offered you a beer and normally, you would have said no. You had plans the following day and you knew better than to mingle with acts when they came through. Your boss would have you by the throat if he knew that you were considering spending time with them. But something about Van was persistent, and you felt a pull in your gut to share a drink with him. He introduced you to some of his bandmates and his road crew, and you forgot their names quickly, wishing you’d paid more attention when he spoke. But Van made you nervous and you fumbled over your words and stuttered your way through group conversations.

You spent a few hours chewing on with him about their tour, their music, and similar bands you both liked. Van loved music. There was no denying that. When he spoke about writing or performing, he spoke quickly and moved his hands with animated motions. Music was his life, and he made sure everyone knew it. You couldn’t keep up with his energy. It was fierce and fiery, yet humble and authentic all in one. You continued drinking with him even after everyone else called it a night, and walked around the outside of the venue, sharing cigarettes at the picnic table out back and trying to keep up with the dialect of his thick accent that seemed to become harder to understand the more he drank. He did his best to dumb down the words and phrases you didn’t know, and you tried hard not to Americanize him. Eventually, the two of you wound back in his hotel room, ripping the clothes off of each other. Up until that point, you’d never done anything remotely similar to that and you wondered what Tessa would think. This was very out of character for you and you knew it. You stayed there until morning when you attempted to duck out before he woke, but little did you know, he was wide awake, writing in a black notebook, smiling lazily at you. You exchanged numbers habitually upon your goodbyes but never expected to hear from him.

He texted you five minutes after you left.

You and Van continued the messages for weeks, sharing photos and videos, and eventually making drunk calls to each other while his band finished the leg of their tour. You told your friends about him, and you talked about him with Tessa regularly. When he returned to the UK, he asked you to wait for him to come back and promised that he would meet up with you when he did. Like the believer in young love you were, you waited anxiously for Van to return, but it took a while. And during the months he was away, the phone calls and messages became less and less until they stopped entirely. He stopped initiating messages and eventually stopped returning your own, and that’s when you decided you hated him…sort of. You loved to hate him, crying on Tessa’s shoulder after a night out on the town and confessing your attraction to him in the moments where you were most under the influence, and promising her you’d never speak to him again after this. But eventually he came back, and he made it a point to hunt you down, and you fell right back under whatever spell Van McCann put you under the first time. You spent an entire summer following his band around on tour, and making long weekend trips with Tessa to cities he was playing in. You picked up right where you left off, and drowned the fear of him leaving again with drinks after his shows and shitty weed from one of his roadies. Van was different this time around, older and less animated when he spoke, and more concerned with what was happening around him. He still seemed happy, and he still loved music, but the stress of playing shows every night, mixed with the release of a sophomore album that sky-rocketed his band into a frenzy of fame, stoned him a little. He was reposed in a way you hadn’t seen him be before and it made you wonder what was going on with him beneath the surface. But you never did get the chance to ask, because Van couldn’t talk about his feelings as easily as he could spin them into songs, and layer them in innuendos. You’d pry when he’d have his moments of silence and pure aggression, but you never managed to get anywhere with him.

Your relationship was unhealthy, both of you using the other to bury your fears and worries into, and never really communicating properly about anything. After his tour wrapped up, he disappeared again, leaving you breathless and in pieces and losing all communication with you again, except this time it was worse because prior to leaving, he’d told you he loved you. You didn’t understand any of it and his absence hurtled you into an angry phase of life where you lost weight and picked yourself apart, but you’d get better every time he called or when he would eventually show up. You’d stalk him online, reading comments he’d leave to fans or girls from back home and torturing yourself to the point of madness. This went on for years. He’d come back to the US, and you’d fall right back into place with him. Then he would go away, and each time he left, a part of you left, too.

Eventually it all stopped though, some three plus years after it all began, but you weren’t ready to relive the ending yet. The ending was too painful to discuss, too awful to consider. You toss the pictures into the box haphazardly, and they coat the bottom with memories you wish Tessa never sent you with. Why would she do that? Why would she knowingly open a wound when you were already vulnerable about moving away and ending things with Nick? And why of all people, would she choose to spotlight, Van? She knew more than anyone how awful your official breakup with Van had been. She suffered through your darkest moments with you and here she was sending you off and into the world with boxes of memories that happened to be some of the sharpest objects you could touch. You consider calling her or at the very least sending her a message about it, but the thought of typing out Van’s name in a sentence fills you with dread.

You choose to open a bottle of celebratory wine your parents sent with you instead. You wonder if you have an emergency pack of Marlboros to chain-smoke and keep your nerves at ease, but you know better than that by now. The last thing you need is to pick up an old habit because you can’t manage your new life or the memories or your former one. You push the thought of smoking to the side and fumble with the cork of the wine bottle until a pop fills your kitchen and the scent of Cab Sav fills the air. You haven’t unpacked any dishes yet, so you insist on drinking from the bottle and it suits you fine.

You sip the wine as you try to talk yourself out of reliving your old memories, but the more you try not to think about your ex-boyfriend, well, both of them really, the more you realize that if it hadn’t been for Van’s dismissal from your life, you never would have met Nick or had to break his heart in the middle of the proposal. This makes you dislike Van more than you did fifteen minutes ago and you toss back the wine and guzzle it quickly. The burning sensation in your throat causes you to squint, but you keep going, wanting to forget everything until tomorrow. You’d rather deal with a headache than a head full of ghosts.

----

You wake up hungover, an empty bottle of wine acting as evidence in your peripheral vision. You groan at the scent of it as you toss it into a trash bag before stepping to the small patio outback. The wine did little to make you forget, and instead, you cried alone in your apartment for most of the night while streaming songs from Van’s band that you’d purposely ignored for the past three years. You knew they’d released a new album in 2019 and you never once gave it a chance. Not that you expected to find anything about your almost relationship there, but you didn’t want to know about anyone else’s love affair with him either. You didn’t want to know that he was happy and writing about someone else. You didn’t need that type of negativity in your life.

But you only found memories you shared with him, woven intricately into the verses of his songs, tidbits of your conversations bleeding into the spaces between the chorus and bridge. You bite back tears as you sift through the feelings you unpacked last night and wrap your head around some of his lyrics. Between mourning the loss of whatever was left from your and Nick’s devastating coda, to digging up the bones of Van McCann and his whole damn band, you had an intense breakdown.

You skim through your messages with Tessa, rereading the moments where you called her out for the photos and tell her you can’t stop crying. She tells you to call her when you’re sober, and you only repeat yourself over and over until she stops responding. You hover over her name and take a few deep breaths before calling her.

“Are you amongst the living?” Tessa’s tone is drenched in sarcasm and something else you can’t quite make out.

“I’ll be alright.” You’re a terrible liar and she knows it, but she doesn’t call you out on your bluff.

“What happened last night?” Her tone becomes concerned, and regret fills your mouth.

“I opened up your letter and saw all the pictures.”

“Well, I figured that much, but how did you get so drunk?”

You shrug as if she was with you in your living room. “I drank that bottle of wine from my parents.”

“You need a healthy hobby.”

You shake your head lightly, rubbing your temple with your free hand and sighing. “What prompted to you to send me off with those photos?”

“I thought you should have them. I’ve had them for years and they obviously weren’t doing me any favors. I figured I’d give them to you since they were of you mainly.”

“I didn’t even know you had them…”

“Why do you sound so sad?”

You cough. “Uhm, do I have to spell it out for you? You sent me with pictures of my ex-boyfriend who I haven’t thought of for years.”

“What’s the big deal? It’s not like you just broke up. If you don’t want them, toss them out.”

“It’s not a big deal…it just…it caught me off guard I guess.”

“Toss them out then, I don’t care.”

“Yeah, I could.” You admit.

You hear Tessa shuffling on the other end of the phone, and you imagine she’s in the kitchen, working on getting food out for breakfast. You miss your lazy weekend mornings with her already and you try not to think about the fact that you’ll never have them routinely again.

“How long has it been since Van anyway, like two years?”

“Three.” You say quickly. “Three and a few months. I met Nick the winter after we called it.” You wince at the memory and promise yourself not to think about it.

“Damn, where does time go? I wonder how his band is doing. Do you think he’s still in England?”

You close your eyes and your stomach rolls angrily either from the wine or the memories, or possibly a little of both.

“I don’t know Tess, and I really don’t care either.” There’s a bite in your tone.

“You know, I saw him last summer at a festival downtown. It was the weekend you and Nick were in Barbados. He asked about you, and I laid it on thick. I was gushing over Nick actually, and how you were away at some exotic island living your best life. I was really trying to make him feel bad. I think it worked.” She laughs.

You feel your mouth open slightly and you stutter as your words escape. “You never told me about that…”

“I know. I think I meant to, but I forgot. Plus, I didn’t want to ruin your trip by texting you and telling you that I ran into him. He looked good. Kind of awkward after I filled him in on your life, though.”

“Jesus, Tess.” You close your eyes tightly. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“You’re the one who messaged me about it last night and called now. It’s your past, what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe you should reach out to him. Maybe you need a rebound, and a familiar one at that. It’s better than dealing with a stranger”

“You’re awful. Do you know how bad that would hurt?”

“Hurt? Why would it hurt? You loved someone else since him. Maybe you should get back at him for all the hurt he did to you. Call him up, arrange to meet him sometime when he’s in the states again, and play with him the way he played with you for years.”

“That’s not how things work with Van McCann, Tess. You know this. Nothing affects him except music. And all that sounds like is a terrible idea. I don’t need to stir up emotions from years ago.”

“I always liked him. Even when I did hate him, I liked the two of you together.”

“Oh God, Tessa would you shut up? Please. I’m too hungover to be making a trip down memory lane with you especially if it involves Van. God dammit.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. If I’d known you were going to react like this to the pictures, I would have thrown everything out myself. I figured you’d be over everything by now, it’s been a long time. And if anything, I guess I assumed that you’d hurt more about Nick than Van. I mean, Nick asked you to marry him for crying out loud. It’s why I didn’t send any photos of him. I guess I thought, if you could get past Van, you could get past Nick, too. It’s part of the reason I sent the photos. As a reminder what you’d been through.”

“I do hurt about Nick, but it’s a different type of hurt. Honestly, I think I hurt more for him than I do for me. I broke his heart, and that makes me feel terrible. But…but Van…” you trail off.

Tessa sighs. “Van broke yours. The ball wasn’t in your court.”

“Exactly.” You breathe out loosely, feeling like you’ve just confessed sins in church.

“I’m sorry I put these memories in your head…I really thought by now- “

“I know what you thought. I thought I was over it, too. But maybe it just hurt too bad and I never really dealt with it.”

“The plot thickens.” Tessa smirks. “So…what do you think you need to do about it?”

You look around your empty living room and bite into your lip. “Learn how to be alone, I guess. And figure out why Van still has this effect on me. Maybe it’s just unpacked emotions that I didn’t deal with because I had Nick to deal with instead.”

“Maybe you should reach out to Van?”

You choke and turn it into a cough mixed with some sort of laugh. “I’d rather stand in traffic. Besides I deleted his number a long time ago.” Thank God for that, or you would have been tempted to reach out to him too many times after too many drinks, at least until Nick took your attention away from him.

“Well, I guess you’ll figure it out. For what it’s worth though, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to make your first night down there so emotional.”

“It’s okay. I know you didn’t do anything on purpose.”

You chat for a few more minutes about things before ending the call and staring out the window as the morning light softens the edges of the day. You decide to make yourself busy with unpacking and arranging things so that when your furniture comes, you can put it right where it needs to go. Your phone dings once, signaling a text message and you see Tessa’s name light up your screen. You unlock it and open the message, reading it on a frown.

Enclosed is contact information with the name “Van” attached in bold lettering. Another message pops up below it and you read it quickly. I have it. In case you want to reach out.

You don’t respond. Instead, you turn your phone upside down and begin putting dishes away. When you finish you pick up the box of photos and random memories from Tessa and shove it in the hall closet. You try to forget about everything involving Van, but as the day goes on, you find yourself humming the melody of one of the songs you listened to the night before, and you hate yourself for it.

[derivativealigner]

I rewatched the second season of South Park and took so many notes that I had to split them into two parts. Like seriously, I took so. many. notes. And pictures this time. I started rewatching just in case I’d find some cool little facts to sprinkle into my fanfic but I went way too far and now there’s a million facts under this cut (including gay stan, a domestic violence psa, and craig fucking dying)

Stan doesn’t like hospitals, he finds them gross and he gets sick 🤮. Also the hospital in South Park is called Hell’s Pass hospital. Early seasons have the name as Hells Pass but it gets fixed later

Cartman has to sing all of Come Sailing Away by Styx if he hears a part of it. After he says this, Kyle sings the first part and Cartman has to sing the rest. Kyle does it again later, which is kinda mean

Cartman’s mom tries to abort Cartman, who is an eight-year-old child and thus cannot be legally aborted. Later, after she slept with Bill Clinton to change the law and make 40th trimester abortions legal, it turns out she meant adoption

Kenny sacrifices himself to turn on the generator to the hospital and save Dr. Mephesto’s life along with others. He says “I’ll fucking do it” then does it and dies, absolute legend

Cartman gets way too into his deputy role. He goes undercover, pretends to be a prostitute, says “Respect my authoritah!” a lot and beats people up with his police stick

Kenny’s brother first appears when Cartman responds to a call about a disturbance at Kenny’s house. Apparently there are like 10 adult family members in the house at that time. Kenny’s dad has a black eye because Kenny’s mom punched him. She says he can’t hold a job

Token sits in the classroom in season 2

Cartman starts hating hippies in this season, like a lot

Chef tells the boys that the right time to do drugs is in college

Ike’s name is Ike Moisha Broflovski and he was born in 1996, making him 2 years old in 1998 when this season aired

This is probably obvious but yeah Kyle and Ike are circumcised

Kyle says family isn’t just blood, it’s who you care about, and he says “That’s why you guys are more than just friends, you’re my family. Except for Cartman.”

Craig’s finally sitting in the classroom in S02E04

None of the boys like dodgeball

Clyde gets a dodgeball to the face and he cries :( and he’s the only one who cries by the way

Pip throws a dodgeball in Kyle’s face and breaks Kyle’s nose

When Kyle’s mom tells the boys about conjoined twin myslexia (which isn’t a real term) and says anyone might’ve absorbed their dead twin in the womb, Stan and Cartman run away screaming but Kenny and Kyle stay to listen. Kenny even leans in to look at the book “Freaks A-Z!” that Mrs. Broflovski is reading from, and when she leaves, Kyle grimaces and Kenny laughs

Stan’s mom (Sharon) calls Kyle’s mom (Sheila) when Stan is all freaked out and trying to put an icepick through his brain, and Sharon tells Sheila to get run over by a truck. Sharon is pretty mean in these early episodes

Mr. Broflovski doesn’t really listen to what Mrs. Broflovski is saying, bad husband >:(

South Park’s team is always called South Park Cows no matter the sport

The school nurse, Nurse Gollum, went to Colorado State University

I just realized Butters exists. I think he appeared before S02E05 but I didn’t notice but yeah he’s there with the dodgeball team, injured

Here’s a picture to make up for my disgusting anti-Butters bias

Kenny’s dodgeball uniform number is 69 obviously. Kyle is 7, Stan is 4, Cartman is 325

Sheila smacks Gerald in the face so hard he falls off his chair, lots of violence perpetrated by women in this show. Remember, don’t do domestic violence no matter your gender, it’s not cool

I realized after this whole Butters thing that I should’ve made more notes about Pip, so I’ll make a note about his anger issues now. When people call him French, he gets angry and throws dodgeballs at them

The boys launch a jelly roll at Ms. Crabtree and make her crash the bus. They do it just for fun

The kids somehow go to China in the school bus

Cartman references Moby Dick, but he probably doesn’t know what he’s talking about

Kevin Stoley gets named in S02E05 and has his first speaking role when he says he has Chinese parents and after Cartman hears it he immediately says something racist. smh cartman, what a problematic fave

Cartman says “I love you guys 😊” but Stan and Kyle just stare at him and he goes 😐 “Eh, screw you guys 😠”

If Jimbo and Ned really fought in Vietnam, they youngest they could’ve been in 1998 is early forties, which means in the latest seasons they would be early sixties. Btw they met in Vietman

Jesus and Pals is a recurring TV show in seasons 1 and 2. Jesus just kind of lives in South Park

I just remembered that Terrance and Phillip are really old in canon, it’s so weird, like how can South Park canon still be changing, it’s been 20 years

Also the early seasons are casually racist who knew

Kenny flashes his ass on a tape the boys send to Jimbo and Ned’s TV show, which airs and at least 12 people see Kenny’s bare naked ass

Cartman really doesn’t like hippies in these early seasons. He throws a chair at Ned and yells, “Take that, hippie!” (Ned is in a catatonic state and did nothing to provoke this)

Jimbo and Ned live together I guess. Jimbo’s gonna take Ned home and show him some hardcore porn to snap him out of his catatonic state, good husband unlike Gerald Broflovski

Saddam Hussein is in hell and has a Canadian accent and is Satan’s lover in S02E06, I guess he died in Canada in the first episode this season but I wasn’t paying much attention since that’s the Terrance and Phillip episode that pissed a bunch of people off in 1998 because the audience wanted to know who Cartman’s dad is instead. It was kind of a boring episode so I understand why everyone was pissed, but it is funny that Matt and Trey did that so I’m not mad about it

Aww look at them!!! We’ve got background Style, the vaguest inkling of Crenny, and Cartman/Cake

I’d take more screenshots but it’s a pain since I’m watching legally and stupid legal websites block screenshots so I have to find youtube videos instead ughhhh piracy is the answer kids

Apparently there’s a huge waterfall and canyon somewhere close to South Park, maybe? At least in Stan’s dream

Mary Kay Bergman was an incredible voice actor. How the hell did she voice all the moms, Wendy, Shelly, principle Victoria, the mayor, Nurse Gollum, and fucking Ms. Crabtree??? Holy shit what a queen

Kenny has some feelings about death. He reimagines the episode where death boops him to death and in his version, he beats death the fuck up, then has ice cream and is happy 😊 But again, this is in Stan’s dream

S02E07 kind of establishes that nobody remembers Kenny dying because when Cartman tells a story where Kenny dies, Kyle questions how Kenny could’ve died then when he also died just a few hours ago when a giant monster took him

rip craig, he falls out the bus and into a canyon

But it’s okay because it was all Stan’s dream so everything in the episode is questionable. Everything after this is no longer a dream

Pip’s parents are dead and he has to go to summer school while everyone else is having a nice summer break

Officer Barbrady and the mayor are having sexual relations, I’m sure this is the most interesting note I’ve made so far. Idk I’m just writing everything down, this is how I enjoy things, I have no off switch

Ew summer bus stop, cursed

Kyle casually sings little tunes every once in a while, how cute

This is pretty obvious but Kenny likes dirty jokes, he laughs when Cartman innocently says he loves Chef’s salty chocolate balls (which are chocolate candy). Nobody else laughs

Cartman says “Screw you guys, I’m going home” or variations of it a lot in this season

So Stan throws up when he likes someone, right? Well, he’s watching an indie movie about two gay cowboys who start making out and he throws up, which is either a terrible homophobic joke or confirmation that Stan’s a little gay. I know which one I prefer

Kyle says Mr. Hankey is his best friend after Stan. Like I know it’s definitely canon that Stan and Kyle are best friends but it’s still nice to see confirmation, it’s very precious. Also Kyle is best friends with literal shit, so cute 😊

Kenny deaths:

S02E02 Kenny sacrifices himself by connecting a generator wire, which electrocutes him but brings power back to a hospital

S02E03 A tree falls on Kenny and crushes him

S02E04 Kenny falls in a grave and the gravestone falls on him

S02E05 The Chinese dodgeball team throws a ball at Kenny and he gets splattered against a wall

S02E06 Two guys pull on Kenny and tear him in half, as in one has the head and one has the legs

S02E07 A big scary monster plucks Kenny out of the school bus and carries him away. Also in Cartman’s fake memory of Fonzi jumping over cars, the motorcycle hits Kenny and crushes him against a brick wall. Kenny gets smashed against walls a lot, doesn’t he?

S02E08 Flashback: Baby Kenny has a firecracker and it explodes, sprinkling little baby Kenny parts everywhere. Later in the episode, current day Kenny dies when a giant firework snake bumps him off a stage and under a fence, which then crushes him.

S02E09 Kenny is playing with a yoyo outside a movie theatre when a bunch of people come outside and trample him to death. They say “Oh my God, I found a penny!” and “You bastard!”

I’ll post part 2 of season 2 in a couple days. I’m having way more fun writing these stupid notes than I thought I would (also gnomes is coming up soon and i am fucking ready for tweek)

[heliosphoenix]

State of the Planet: 2020 Edition.

I know what you're thinking.

"How can you even think of doing one of these for this year? After everything that happened? You can't possibly be trying to do your little feel-good writeup!" 

Well...you're right. I can't. That's right, State of the Planet is cancelled.

I don't really have to explain why, do I? I have no words to describe this year and I know you don't want to hear them anyway. I understand your anger, your frustration, your sadness, everything you're feeling, I get it.

This wasn't the year you imagined and almost certainly not the one you wanted. Thanks for being there the entire way, and I'll see you next year.

Okay, I'm just kidding. I couldn't do that to you folks, I just wanted to get some more mileage out of a dead meme.

I first started this missive several years ago when I noticed that people were developing a tendency to condense the previous lap around the ol Sun into a series of terrible, horrible, no good very bad events at the expense of anything good that may have happened. I don't know why this was done, maybe as a ways to ensure that the coming year would have to be better by default.

Well...we all saw how that worked out for this year, didn't we?

As you all know I prefer to do things differently. I prefer to go out on a high note and remember all the good things that happened in the past year. If nothing else, I think it helps remind us that as much as we want to bemoan and be pessimistic about the state of our culture, society, civilization and even species, there's plenty of evidence to suggest we're not doing so bad after all.

And even thought it feels like this past year the world went out of its way to teach us some rather harsh lessons, I'm still determined to find something good that happened. So let's take a look back at some of the good things that happened in 2020:

A circumbinary planet was discovered at the TOI 1338 system.

Luxembourg became the first country to make it's public transportation free.

The Bhadla Solar Park became the largest solar park in the world.

The BepiColumbo space probe departed for Venus, en route to an arrival at Mercury in 2025.

A fast radio burst was detected from a Magnetar in the Milky Way, the first time such an event has been detected in the Galaxy.

A team of British and Kenyan scientists discovered a microbe that can block mosquitos from transmitting malaria.

A black hole was discovered in the QV Telescopii system, at 1120 light years away it is the closest known black hole to Earth.

A 425 million year old fossil of a millipede was discovered in Scotland, one of the oldest fossils ever found.

SpaceX launched their Dragon 2 spacecraft on its first crewed missions, the first astronauts to launch from US soil since 2011.

The Perseverance rover was launched to Mars and is expected to touch down in February.

The Barakah nuclear power plant in the UAE became the first operational nuclear power plant in the Arab states.

Wild polio was eradicated from the continent of Africa.

Skeletons of 31 prehistoric animals, including 200 mammoths, were found at a construction site in Mexico City, it was the largest finding of mammoth bones ever.

The 5.37 mile La Linea highway tunnel was opened in Colombia, it's the largest road tunnel in South America.

Kosovo, Serbia, Sudan and Bahrain all decided to normalize their relations with Israel.

Phosphine, a strong predictor of microbiological life, was discovered in the atmosphere of Venus.

Preserved remains of a cave bear were discovered in Siberia.

A 1634 edition of Shakespeare's final play, The Two Noble Kingsman, was discovered at the Royal Scots College's library in Spain.

The OSIRIS-REx spacecraft landed on the asteroid Bennu and collected samples for return to Earth in 2023.

The Falkland Islands were declared free of land mines.

Molecular water was detected near Clavius crater on the Moon. 

An AI algorithm called AlphaFold was able to figure out the process of Protein Folding. 

The UN commission on Narcotic Drugs removed cannabis from its list of dangerous drugs.

The EU committed themselves to reducing greenhouse emissions by 55% over the next decade.

A Great Conjunction between Jupiter and Saturn occurred, the closest one seen in the night sky since 1226.

Comet NEOWISE passed by the Earth and was the brightest comet in the night sky since Hale-Bopp in 1997.

Among Us became one of the most popular games in the world.

Half Life: Alyx was released, the first Half Life game in 13 years (FINALLY).

Joe Biden was elected as the 46th President of the United States.

Remember all that? Good. Because that's where I'm at.

You, dear reader, are in the future. Perhaps you're reading this in the final hours of 2020, or the first hours of 2021. Or maybe so much time has passed that both those years are now confined to the history books.

Perhaps everything I listed above is not enough to overcome all the bad things that happened this year, and that's a fair assessment. Maybe at the end of the day there's nothing that can overshadow the fact that someone in China who ate the wrong bat resulted in the entire world coming to a stop. If that's your feeling, then I understand completely.

But let the record show that those things did happen. In a year full of chaos and uncertainty and anxiety and dread, there were still moments where we could objectively punch our fists in the air and say "yes!" Even if only for a moment.

So now comes the part where I have to take all the things that we just went through and sum it up in a single word. Usually I don't think about this until the day of, but this time I've actually known for months what I was going to say:

The word is...Goodbye.

It sounds both strange and appropriate at the same time, doesn't it? As we close out this year, as well as this decade (reminder that 2021 is the real start of the next decade) we can look back and realize we've had many experiences. Both positive and negative. Hopefully they were mostly positive, even during this year.

But there is at least one experience we've all shared together, especially in times like these: saying goodbye.

I will confess to you all that I have a hard time saying goodbye. Hell, I don't even like the word. Whenever I end a conversation, I always use some variant of "see you later", since, to me at least, "goodbye" just sounds so final. Though with that said, I will also admit there's some people in this world that I had no problem saying goodbye to, and I don't mean "till we meet again", I mean "get lost." And I'd be lying if I said there weren't some people who felt the same about me, but I digress.

In the last episode of his show, Red Green delivered a monologue about saying goodbye. A monologue that I am now shamelessly ripping off for your reading pleasure. Not just because it's a way to get this done quickly, but because I think what he said is very true.

Red says that when it comes to your good friends and your family, you never really have to say goodbye. Why? Because they're always in your mind. And whenever you think about them, you're together again. I can tell you from experience that works rather well, even when it involves people that I don't want to think about. But even in that instance, where our last interaction was a negative one, I can't help but think back to all the good times we had together, and for a moment I reminisce. It's nice when it happens.

We've all heard the phrase "nothing lasts forever" and we tend to dismiss it as a cliché. But we're still constantly confronted with that reality, even if we never realize it. As Al Pacino said in Any Given Sunday; "When you get old in life, things get taken from you. That's a part of life."  

We've all lost things in our lives, and I just don't mean toys that have been sold or people that we love who are no longer on this mortal coil. I'm referring to the moments in our lives where we're forced to accept that our circumstances have permanently changed, and that the way things were can no longer be the way things are. This is why you shouldn't be having kids when you're in your 70's, and no one over the age of 50 should be naked in public.

On a more personal note, this year I got that feeling once again. It's not just because I'm most likely leaving one job behind for another job, but there were things in my personal life that shifted so dramatically that I knew things could never be the same again. And seeing as how, for the most part, I liked how things were, I'd be lying if I said that this change didn't cause me some distress.

But that's all a part of growing up, isn't it? As much as I may cringe about reaching 30 years of life on this Earth, I accept it all the same. Because, if nothing else, it's a reminder that I need to keep moving forward. Is it sad that the good ol days are now just memories and dreams? You're damn right it is. But that doesn't have to be a bad thing, because even if they're not what's happening now, they still did happen. And who knows? Perhaps the days to come will be just as good, if not better. In my opinion, that's something to look forward to.

And the same is true for all of us: if we want to live a happy fulfilling life, we have to keep moving forward. We can reminisce about all the fun we've had in days gone by, but it's just as important to be ready for the days yet to come.

I think that's why New Year's is such a poignant holiday for all of us. It's a tacit acknowledgement that we have to say goodbye to the old, so we can say hello to the new.

And at the risk of making this entry so long that by the time you're finished it will be 2022, I'd like to do that now.

To all the people that have been with me since my early days, thanks so much for all that you've done. I appreciate you sticking it out with me this far and I hope you'll continue to do so for many years to come.

To all the people that I've met recently and have decided to join me on this ride, welcome aboard. We're glad you could make it and we hope you'll stay a while as well.

And finally, to all the people that are no longer here, whether they've merely left my social circle or left this mortal coil altogether, all I can say is that we've had a great run. Whatever our reasons for parting are irrelevant now and I wish you nothing but good fortune in whatever it is you decide to do. Perhaps, God willing, our paths will cross again some day. But even if they don't, I hope that every so often we'll think about each other and smile a bit.

And now I'd like to close with something different. Usually I ask you to comment below with something good that happened to you this year. You're more than welcome to do that. But if you're looking for a change of pace, may I suggest that you close out your 2020 (or open your 2021) by listening to this song from the great Ashleigh Ball and Michelle Creber (yes I know many of you are hoping to leave the Miniature Equines in the past, but I'm hoping you'll permit them one last indulgence).

https://youtu.be/XjkPH6sZM_o 

This is the song that inspired me to write this missive (along with the aforementioned Red Green) and as you're listening, I want you to think about all of those you said goodbye to this past decade. Think about all the fond memories you had together and give yourself a smile as the clock strikes midnight. Even if they're not with us today, we still have all the memories of them that no one can take from us, no matter what happens to the world.

And now the time has come for me to end this missive. Let the record show that this was my final word on 2020 as well as my expressed hope for charity, kindness and goodwill to flourish throughout the world in the years to come.

So, good night unto you all.

Give me your hands, if we be friends

.And 2021 shall restore amends.