#sparkle was a little bitch though had to go to 80 just to get a yanqing con and the to 80 again to get her and i lowk need her lc

[b4tboys]

xiao and sparkle haver now :3

[threeletterslife]

Change of Plans

→ summary: So how did you and Seokjin meet? Now that the two of you are engaged, you’re ready to tell your friends the night you were supposed to get laid but didn’t. And it’s all your fiancé’s fault.

→ pairing/rating: seokjin x reader | PG-13

→ genre: 80% crack, 20% fluff | college!au & est. relationship!au

→ warnings: profanity, mentions of hooking up, crude humor, tinder lmao

→ wordcount: 2.5k

→ a/n: guys when i was editing this i laughed at my own fucking jokes ohmygod 🤡🤡

cr.

"So," Jungkook snorts, swinging his arm around Seokjin's shoulder as he looks at the happy couple curiously. "You're getting married."

"Hell, yes!" you say, pumping your fist. "Look at my ring."

Everyone around you groans.

"Y/N, we looked at your ring so many times, I think if someone told me to resculpt it blindfolded, I could," Yoongi sighs. He half annoyedly half defeatedly grabs a can of beer and downs it.

"Shut up, Yoongi," Daehyung says. "Y/N, your ring is beautiful," she gushes. "Yoongi's just jealous because he's single."

"It's beautiful because I helped Seokjin pick it out," Yoongi argues. "Even though I'm single, I have excellent taste."

"You also have a cocky attitude," you giggle, admiring how the sparkling ring fits perfectly around your ring finger. "But thank you. I appreciate the advice you gave my fiancé."

"Can you believe a year ago, I didn't even know your name?" Seokjin laughs, nudging you. Giving him an ungrateful glare, you push him back.

"Wait, really?" Jungkook says, eyes wide. "I thought you guys were college besties."

"No, they met on a hookup app," Daehyung giggles.

"Seriously??" Yoongi says.

"It wasn't exactly a hookup app," you pout. "We didn't even hookup."

"It was too a hookup app," Daehyung says. "Tinder, to be exact."

Everyone except you and Seokjin gasps dramatically.

"Come to think of it," Yoongi says, "you two never told us how you met."

"Yeah, and if we tell you, you're going to embarrass the shit out of me and my future wife when you give the best man speech at the wedding," Seokjin frowns. "I'm not setting myself up for humiliation."

"I promise I'll keep it a secret!"

"Hey, I thought I was the best man!" Jungkook yells.

"You can be the flower girl," you snort.

"What?!" the young bachelor shrieks.

"Can everybody shut the fuck up so I can hear this story again?" Daehyung yells at the top of her lungs.

"Again??" Seokjin says curiously. "When did you hear it the first time?"

"Oh, Y/N was drunk," Daehyung giggles. "When she's drunk, she spills straight up tea."

"Oops," you say when your fiancé gives you a dirty look. "Why do we have to keep it a secret, anyway?"

"Because it's embarrassing."

"Yeah, embarrassing for you. I sound like a hero."

"Y/N saves the day?" Yoongi grins. "And Seokjin wrecks something? What's new?"

"I'm this close to making you the flower girl," the engaged man threatens.

Yoongi shuts up.

"Oh, come on, babe, let's tell them the story," you plead. "It's so funny!"

"Yeah, for you."

"Learn to laugh at yourself, Seokjin," Daehyung chastises. "Plus it wasn't even that humiliating."

"God!" Jin shrieks. "Yes it was humiliating!"

"Shut up, you big baby," you say, patting the head of your soon-to-be-husband. "I'll take the floor now."

"Oh, god," Jin groans.

You grin in response. "Okay, it all started senior year of college... Monday... November 14th, 8:02 p.m..."

"It did not start then," Seokjin argues.

"Stop being so petty," Jungkook snorts.

"Wait, no Jin's right. It didn't start then," you giggle apologetically. Seokjin facepalms. "It started a week and a few days before November 14th."

"Does the date really matter?" Yoongi groans.

"Yes," you, Seokjin, Jungkook and Daehyung chorus.

Yoongi shuts up—for the second time that day.

"Okay, where was I?" you mumble. "Oh, right! It all started..."

Tinder is an annoying bitch.

It keeps pairing you up with dudes you know in your class. You are not going to have a one night stand with a guy and be stuck in a group project with him the next day. You're going to avoid that awkward possibility for as much as you can.

You've used the "dating" app off and on in your college years, but it's never amounted to anything more than craptastic hookups and hectic morning afters. So you deleted it.

Until early November when you had to third wheel Daehyung and her boyfriend to a local fair. You were so bored and desperate that you re-downloaded Tinder and started swiping. There are way too many hot guys on one app. It makes you start to wonder where all the hot guys in your school are.

There are a few guys who match with you, but it's clear that they are massive dodo brains when they start off the conversation with a one-worded 'hi' or 'send nudes plz' or the worst: 'your beautiful.' With the wrong 'your' and all. You don't even answer them.

But one guy's messages catch your eyes.

[SEOKJIN]: Roses are red

[SEOKJIN]: Let's test my luck

[SEOKJIN]: We should get in bed

[SEOKJIN]: So we can—

The unfinished poem leaves you almost choking on your own spit. If that wasn't creative, you don't know what is. After background checking his profile, you realize he's one of those hotties. You wonder what on earth he's doing texting you, but you're not going to miss this amazing chance.

[Y/N]: Fuck?

Seokjin replies about three seconds later.

[SEOKJIN]: Oh no that's so vulgar

[SEOKJIN]: I was going to say cuddle :((

You giggle. Sort of a low-grade joke, but what can you say? You're a complete sucker for those.

It's hard to find men these days who are perfect texters. Most men are dry, sending in one-word answers and letting emojis talk for them. Other men write way too much. Seokjin is right in the middle. Already, he has your attention. (Especially because you like his humor.)

The two of you text back and forth until you're back home in your bed. You would've texted him more but it was 3:04 a.m. and you had class the next day.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach when Seokjin, a complete stranger, mind you, tells you, 'goodnight. sweet dreams.'

What follows is a week's worth of texting. You've been swiping and texting other guys on the side, but if Seokjin's available, you ditch everyone else.

You learn that Jin's a history major and he despises STEM with all of his guts. You let him go on a ten-minute rant on why math should die all because it's adorable how he has so much supporting evidence for his argument. Seokjin had to backtrack and apologize when he learned that you majored in physics, though, which was hilarious. You could feel him blushing via text.

The more you text Seokjin, the more you want to meet him in person. Also, his Tinder bio promises mind-blowing sex, so you're down for that too.

On a fateful day, you finally somehow schedule a meeting with the hot man. Monday, November 14th at 8 p.m. You're to meet at Seokjin's little apartment (which seemed to be in a safe neighborhood). You have fun picking your lingerie with Daehyung. (You kept saying Seokjin would be the type to like pink and lace, but Daehyung argued that he'd like scarlet red and leather. But you kicked her out of your room and chose the pink lace lingerie set anyway.)

It was an understatement to say you were excited about this. You were elated, insanely thrilled. Not only did you find a hookup partner, but also you found a man you could potentially see yourself dating.

Daehyung keeps telling you not to get your hopes too high because in her words, "You've never even met the goddamn dude." But you know a gem when you see one. Unlike Daehyung. She's been off and on with about four different guys since the beginning of college. What does she know about love??

In the end, you want to be more than hookup material to Seokjin. But of course, that would be after you get laid tonight. The flirty wink faces and jokes were indicative that tonight would be a very, very enjoyable night. You just have to get to his apartment on time.

At precisely 8:02 p.m., you knock on his door. Okay, you were going to knock on his door when you originally got there (at 7:56 p.m.), but after consulting Daehyung, she said that it's better to make men wait. For once, her advice kind of makes sense. So you wait six minutes and then knock on his door.

"Oh shit!" you hear from the apartment.

You raise your eyebrows. He was expecting you, right?

"Just a second!!"

His voice is much smoother and more delicate than you thought.

You're dreaming about finally seeing his beautiful face in person when the door opens. Damn. He's really, really hot. You feel on fire just looking at him. But you quickly see that the man is panting. He's also sweating.

"O-Oh, is this a bad time?"

"Fuck," Seokjin curses. He runs his finger through his silky black hair. "Uh..." He trails off, eyes darting below to see just a sliver of your pink lace lingerie set peeking out from under your black coat. He gulps. You can see his Adam's apple bob. He exudes this warm, chaotic energy you wouldn't have expected from someone who looks so well-put-together as him. But you kind of find that hot.

"Okay, change of plans," Seokjin finally gasps out. He tugs you in his apartment and holds out a good stack of papers. "College happened."

You laugh. "What??"

"Okay, remember when I told you I fucking hate math?"

"Yes??" The ten-minute rant—how could you forget something so iconic?

"Well, I made a huge mistake of taking accounting this year and now I'm behind on five assignments that are all due tomorrow—"

"Oh god."

"Don't worry. I'm going to get it all done. So we can uh..." Seokjin glances at your scandalous outfit behind the confines of your coat. "Finish the rest of my poem."

"In that case..." You roll up your long sleeves. "Do you have a t-shirt I can borrow?"

"Y-Yeah," Seokjin says. He dashes away and after a split second, he comes back with a navy, oversized t-shirt. "Here."

"Thank you!" you chirp. "Now," you say, tying your hair up in a messy bun and gesturing toward the heap of paper Seokjin is holding, "I took accounting two years ago, but I'm sure I remember all the essential stuff. Wanna get to work?"

Seokjin looks at you like you're an angel.

"Shut up!" Jungkook laughs so hard he almost falls over. "You're telling me that you were going to get laid, but you got cockblocked by Seokjin's procrastination??"

"Yes! I know!" you snort. "But it's a good thing I can actually do math. Unlike Mr. I-hate-math-so-much-I-barely-do-my-homework, here."

"In my defense..." Seokjin trails off. "I don't have an excuse, actually."

Yoongi rolls his eyes. "Did you finish the assignments, though?"

"Why are you guys asking the irrelevant questions?" Daehyung sighs. "Shouldn't you guys ask if Y/N got laid like she was supposed to??"

Seokjin grumbles. "We finished the assignments in three hours."

"We??" you say incredulously.

"Okay, fine. Y/N did more than half of it because I had no idea what was going on."

"And I did get laid!" You pump a victorious fist in the air. "But it was really late and I fell asleep before we even got to the good part."

"So she got properly laid in the morning," Seokjin snickers. "And it was so good she left after having breakfast."

"I think I fell for him because he can cook so well," you laugh. "And he felt extra bad about the night before so he made a three-course breakfast meal."

"Oh my god, men who finesse in the kitchen," Daehyung gushes. "Why haven't I caught a case like that yet?"

"Your personality is your birth control, bro," Jungkook snorts. "I thought you knew."

"I will shove a pregnancy test up your fucking ass," Daehyung threatens.

"How do you know I won't like how that feels?"

"SHUT UP!" Yoongi screams. "DON'T PAINT THAT PICTURE IN MY HEAD."

You and Seokjin give each other another look. Ever since you introduced Daehyung to Seokjin's two best friends, it's been... uh, chaotic. At this point, you're not sure if your friends argue out of pure love or pure hatred.

But the fact that Jungkook uses the same flirting tactics of a pre-teen boy explains a lot about his relationship with Daehyung.

"At this rate, do you even want these people at the wedding?" Seokjin whispers jokingly.

"I heard that!" Daehyung shrieks. "I will be at the wedding whether you want it or not!"

"Don't worry," you laugh. "You're going to be my maid of honor!"

"Whew," Daehyung sighs. "Since I'm your maid of honor can I uninvite Jeon Jungkook for being an asshole?"

"Hey!"

"No, we're putting you two in the same table at the afterparty dinner," Seokjin grins. "And Yoongi, you'll be there to witness the madness."

"Lovely," the sarcastic man gripes.

"Exactly!" you say.

But it is lovely indeed.

You never thought your ability to zoom past accounting assignments would ever come to use. Until Seokjin opened up a whole new door for you. Sure, you wanted a plain ol' hookup, but instead of getting dick, you got yourself a boyfriend. And now a fiancé.

If you think about it, now you have an endless supply of dick—all from the same, magnificent man. So it all worked out in the end.

Before all of your friends leave after the friendly gathering, you tug Yoongi to the side and pay him a hundred bucks to retell the hilarious story in his best man speech. Once money is involved, Yoongi will do anything.

Sure enough, on the faithful day of the wedding, and quite to Seokjin's horror, Yoongi tells the story of how you and Seokjin had first met—leaving out explicit details to save the ears of the older guests. But the story leaves everyone in tears of laughter.

Seokjin is so enamored by the attention that he doesn't even get angry at Yoongi.

"I'm glad I took that stupid accounting class!" he announces at the afterparty. "If it hadn't been for Professor Le Chory and his endless assignments, I would've never met my wife!"

And when the party's over and the two of you go off to your shared apartment to rest before going on your honeymoon trip to Yeousu, Seokjin clears his throat.

"Yes??" you say, giggling as Seokjin shyly fidgets with his hands. "Did you break something again?"

"No!" he says. "I just thought of another poem."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Wanna hear it?"

"Sure. But if this keeps up, you'll become a poet, Jin."

"I know," your husband grins. He takes a deep breath and recites the poem from memory, closing his eyes as he concentrates on each word.

Roses are red,

You are now my wife,

We should sleep in bed,

So tomorrow, and until forever, I'll show you the time of your life.

With Seokjin, life is spontaneous. But you don't really mind. Living in the moment and changing your plans as they go isn't too bad.

Especially when you wake up the next morning and Seokjin announces instead of Yeousu, the two of you will embark on a journey to Jeju instead.

Perfect. You've always wanted to visit Jeju Island.

masterlist

[written-on-the-trees]

Strawberry Necklace Part 6 - Yungblud Fan Fiction

Word Count: 1850 words.

Warnings: None, for this part. Smut, fem-dom, and prostitution for the whole story.

Summary: Nova and Dom accidently announce their relationship to Nova’s family.

Where else can you find this:  Ao3  |  Wattpad

Part Five  | Part Seven

Nova woke up with warm arms wrapped around her waist, and the feel of Dom's chest pressed against her back. He wasn't asleep, but he didn't seem to interested in getting up and disturbing her - she wasn't sure he even knew she was awake - instead he seemed to be happy to bury his face in her hair and cuddle. It was utterly adorable - he was utterly adorable, possibly the sweetest man she'd ever met.

 But as much as she wanted to bask in the peace of this moment forever, and enjoy Dom's cuteness, she wanted to say good morning to him even more.

   Stretching slowly - and making sure to 'unintentionally' push her arse against his groin - Nova hummed sleepily before rolling over to meet Dom's hazel eyes, sparkling as they were in the mid-morning sunlight: "Good morning, handsome."

 "Hello." Dom blushed sweetly: "Did you sleep well?"

 "I slept amazingly. You must've worn me out." she teased him, wanting to see Dom blush harder, and instantly getting her wish when she winked at him: "Breakfast?"    

"I feel like I should be offering to make breakfast you." Dom managed to get out past his embarrassment: "I think you literally fucked my brains out."    

Nova laughed: "That's cheesy as fuck, you know that?"    

"Got no brains left, can't help it." he grinned cheekily.

   Nova laughed, shaking her head and leaning in to peck him on the cheek before she got out of bed to head to the bathroom - snagging his t-shirt from last night on her way out. By the time she'd finished, Dom was out of bed too, in his boxers and skinny jeans, ready to slide into the bathroom after her, giving Nova the chance to head to the kitchen to make a start on the breakfast she'd offered.

 Dom followed her out a few minutes later, slinking into the kitchen to wrap his arms around her waist as she fried bacon. He gave her a gentle squeeze, before untangling himself to make them some tea, the two of them working in comfortable silence.

 The only time they spoke was when Nova heard Dom taking a picture of her when she was stood at the sink with her back to him, smirking over her shoulder at him as he openly took another, and asked her if he could put the first one - the one without her face in - on his Instagram story.

 It was really sweet that he asked, in Nova's opinion. She wasn't exactly shy - wearing nothing but Dom's over-sized t-shirt and her underwear was hardly the most scandalous she'd ever looked - but she appreciated that he didn't just assume that she would be okay with things. She let him post it, smiling when he showed her his story, with a shower of multi-coloured hearts around her. It was absolutely the cutest picture anyone had ever posted of her online, and Nova suddenly wished that she could post a similarly cute picture of him...but given the only people who followed her Instagram were her family and friends, there was absolutely no way she'd get away with posting a picture of anyone they didn't know without getting questioned.

 Showing off that she had a new love interest for the first time via Instagram probably wouldn't be the smartest move. Most of her family already despaired over her life choices, she didn't need to give them any reason to bitch about - or at - her. Especially since she and Dom weren't actually together.

 Nova didn't need all that family drama over a perceived relationship didn't actually exist yet - the key word being 'yet'.

 What label - if any - she and Dom were going to use was something they would have to discuss before they told anyone anything - but Nova didn't want to be pushy. It would come up when it came up, and until then they could just keep it quiet, at least on her end.

 Of course, Nova was used to men who weren't comfortable discussing emotions - and Dom was far from that.

   "So, I know we didn't say anything more than that we were going to see each other, and I don't want to be pushy..." he said while cutting into his eggs: "...but I'm going to be pushy. Are we, like, dating? Are we partners now? Boyfriend and girlfriend? Are we just seeing each other?"

 Nova carefully swallowed her mouthful of tea before looking at Dom: "What do you want us to be?"

 "What do you want us to be?"

 Honestly, Nova couldn't be upset that he'd turned the question around on her...even though she genuinely had no idea where to begin answering it: "I...I don't know. More than just seeing each other."

 "But not partners, or boyfriend and girlfriend, or whatever we'd call that?"

 "Not yet? I know we really like what we've seen of each other, but we've only spent one night together as, like, just us." she tried to explain how she felt, taking a bite of bacon just for a chance to get her thoughts in order: "So I guess dating? To see if we're as compatible as we think we are."

 Dom nodded thoughtfully: "I think that sounds good."

 "You're not upset that we didn't jump straight to being officially together?" Nova asked, trying not to frown in concern.

   She wasn't used to people wanting to take things this fast - and falling back on her usual pragmatism was the only way she could think to go about things right now, but she didn't want to upset Dom when all he was doing was being sweet.

   But despite her concern, Dom just grinned and shook his head: "If we're dating, that means I get to show off and take you on fun dates to impress you, and I'm actually really looking forward to that. I'm gonna blow your mind."

 Nova laughed: "You already do...but I'm really looking forward to going on dates with you, too."

   Dom grinned, and leaned in to press his forehead against Nova's affectionately. Nova leaned into it, smiling almost as wide as she saw Dom was, before she closed her eyes to just bask in the moment. She definitely hadn't been expecting it to go that well - the fact it had had left her feeling giddy from relief and excitement, and, if his facial expressions were anything to go by, Dom felt much the same way.

 Which, as far as Nova was concerned, was a perfectly good reason to have a lazy day together.

 They'd just gotten past what Nova had been worried would be a really awkward conversation a lot sooner than she thought they would, in possibly the best way they could, with neither of their feelings getting stepped on - if that didn't mean that they'd earned the right to have an easy few hours, she didn't know what would.

 The pair of them ended up back in her bed, cuddled up together under the blankets, watching Rock of Ages on Netflix, singing along to all the 80's songs as dramatically as they could while remaining under the blankets. It didn't last too long; by the time I Want To Know What Love Is came on, they'd lost interest in Tom Cruise and his blonde girlfriend, and were more interested in each other.

 Dom was on top of Nova, one hand on her cheek and the other on her waist, singing random snippets of the song playing in the background between dipping down and kissing her softly, all while smiling sweetly. Nova had never been seduced by Rock of Ages before, but Dom was managing it, somehow. Nova tangled her hand in Dom's hair so she could pull him down for a proper kiss.

 It was still sweet. Dom's hand stayed on her cheek, his thumb rubbing gently over her cheekbone

 Nova leaned up a little further, willing to get a crick in her neck if it meant that she could keep kissing Dom - only for her phone to go off on the bedside table. Dom pulled away, breathless, and looking so gorgeous Nova couldn't resist pulling him in for another kiss...just in time for her phone to go off again with a second message.

   Dom laughed this time, even as Nova groaned in frustration: "Why does my phone hate me?"

 "Clearly someone wants your attention just as much as I do." Dom joked, gently rolling off Nova and handing her her phone before getting to his feet: "I'm going to get a drink. Do you want anything?"

 "There's a bar of Marvellous Creations in the fridge, if you wouldn't mind bringing it back with you."

 Dom beamed: "The one with the popping candy?"

 "Of course."

      Dom clambered out of bed to go to the kitchen, and Nova picked up her phone to see who had messaged her, only to see it was a picture from Stella. Assuming it was just some more random bullshit from the kids' dad again - he was so fond of being a dick for the sake of it, even if Stella hadn't actually done anything wrong, often resulting in nothing actually happening - Nova opened it to see what the dickhead was saying now...and almost dropped her phone.

 It wasn't a message from Stella's ex.

 It was the picture of Nova from Dom's Instagram, followed by a message asking if it was in fact a picture of her.

   Shit.

   Even if she was asking if it was Nova in the picture, Nova knew Stella knew it was her. Stella knew what she looked like, even from behind, and the picture was in her kitchen. Even if Nova said it was just some other blonde woman (which might've worked, since it wasn't like Stella could reasonably argue with that), there was no-way she could deny that the kitchen was hers.

 She never thought she'd regret

 ...There was no denying that that was her kitchen. And there would be no getting away with telling Stella that it wasn't Nova, just a random blonde woman in Nova's kitchen.

   Shit.

   Dom came back into the toom, took one look at her face, and immediately dropped down next to her on the bed: "What's wrong?"

 "So...I forgot my niece was a fan of yours." Nova buried her face in her hands: "She follows you on Instagram."

 It took a few seconds for the realisation to hit Dom - but when it did, his face fell: "She saw the picture of you on my story?"

 Nova nodded: "She did. And she sent it to her mum. Who is now asking if it is me in the picture, like she doesn't already know what my bloody kitchen looks like. She just wants to me tell her it's me."

 "...What are you going to do?"

  "What else can I do?" Nova scrubbed her hands over her face: "I'm going to tell her it's me."

[archmage--khadgar]

Hia! I always feel happy when I see one of your posts pop up on here c: why do you like Khadgar?

*Stares into space* OH GOD THIS IS gonna probably be a long post. HERE WE GO.So uh. I always really like Karazhan and the lore around it, hardcore fell in love with Medivh and pretty much ANYTHING in game that was connected I ate it up. I got the urn, the keys, all the rings, all the rep, you name it. I tried SO HARD to get Atiesh from the old Naxx but that didn’t happen. (I AM STILL SAD ABOUT THAT.) So that was -kind of- the start. In order for the next part to make sense, need to sidestep and backtrack a wee bit for context.Not to be all sob story, but I gotta be honest, I spent most of my childhood alone (either outside or in my room), reading, playing out epic stories with my toys, exploring the outdoors, and most of my social interactions with people I was either being bullied by kids at school or my mother. And y’know, despite all the stories I read or watched on t.v it was a loooong while before there were characters that made me go….”Holy SHIT I know what that’s like!?” Like there was a difference, to me, between characters like Michelangelo and Beetlejuice that I REALLY WANTED to hang out with, and then a character that made me go….”I know exactly how that character feels. What happened to them, happened to me.”Digimon was the show that broke that mold for me when not only were there two characters who had DIVORCED PARENTS!??? Like me, there was a girl who had a REALLY BAD and unhealthy relationship with her mother. (But she was still powered by love, which was awesome.)This kinda started getting me into other stuff because the more characters I found that I could relate to, the easier it was to explain how I felt to strangers and it made friend finding a little bit easier. FAST FORWARDING A LITTLE BIT.

So I certainly have a character -type- that I relate to the most. And it’s chaotic bookwork with anxiety. Fun fact: I am always dubbed “the twilight sparkle” of friend groups IRL because I was always, ALWAYS the one who was solving friendship problems and I did that looong before the show. OOPH. THE BIG PROBLEM. Was that it was getting to the point where all the chaotic bookworms were either: Evil, female (and I love gals, but that’s not my gender identity ORZ), or like. largely hated by the fandom and were always mocked.Or some combination.SO LIKE. Hey, I get introduced to Medivh and his TOWER OF BOOKS and all that shit and it’s like “Fuck yeah sign me up bro, living alone? Shitty mom? I feel you.” But then, y’know. He was a wee bit possessed and not. Exactly the good guy SO THERE WAS THAT.And then. There was Khadgar.I hadn’t been able to find the last guardian book yet, though I had read about the lore highlights online so I was familiar and stuff.And then WoD came out. And Khadgar! Was doing stuff! Which got me excited because it was more of the Lore that I really liked, and during MoP, I was hardcore going…”THE LEGION IS COMING BAAAACK. I JUST KNOW IT. CAUSE WE DIDN’T KILL KJ. SKREE.” I got called crazy and stupid a few times BUT HEY. Jokes on you fuckers I was *right*.Anyways!That first quest chain into Tannan rolls in. And it’s just. Khadgar. Being Khadgar. “Well, then I guess we owe you one.” scene hit every…“Oh fucking god bless Khadgar for the sarcastic sass”Because I really enjoy sarcasm and it’s more obvious in voice chat or in-person but my sass rhythm and tone, especially if I’m ranting is veeery similar to Khadgar’s sass.And then the PUNS. Listen. *Listen*. I hear an opportunity for a pun and I have to take it. I have to. If I try to hold it in my face starts smiling like the Cheshire cat and I sometimes let out a high pitched “eeeeeee” until given permission. After that quest chain, I quickly noticed that no one had rolled a Khadgar blog. No one! And well, I was all about having a blog where I could be free to make jokes all the time. IIRC, my first post was…”The party has arrived~!” Or something like that. I honestly didn’t expect much to happen cause I didn’t have any friends or anything like that and all the wow blogs all pretty much had their followings already and I was uh…a WEE BIT ALONE. But I was like “well even if this blog doesn’t go off I’ll at least have an outlet where I can just be me where no one will harass me.”Cause gotta be honest, I’ve never been well-liked. There was never a place for bookworms who liked puns and had anxiety in the world I lived in. If I acted like myself I was hated, and in order to fit in, I had to be someone else, which was a ditzy stupid, lazy girl. I wasn’t allowed to be trans, (still not back in Maine), or smart, and….yeah.  But hey! On tumblr, I can RP a male character that had my same sense of humor and sass and BE MYSELF and NOT BE A GIRL and all my IRL haters wouldn’t be able to stop me.And then uh, A THING HAPPENED. I no longer have the original blog because of reasons I’ll mention later, so I CAN’T REMEMBER who first started sending me asks but I know @kiyastrasza was one of them (she passed away suddenly a few months ago and I miss her SO MUCH.) But then like, I DON’T KNOW. I know I got a few initial asks because “fuck yeah finally a khadgar blog”  and honestly, I thought my blog was rubbish because it was 80% me just being my sassy nerd self and 20% studying his word usage for more serious things and getting my hands on every scrap of Khadgar related lore.”So I fully expected to get called out on being canon divergent or a shitty Khadgar or SOMETHING. Or have people ONCE AGAIN be like….”This character archetype is annoying and stupid and we all fucking hate him and hate you for rping him.”But that didn’t happen. In fact the EXACT OPPOSITE HAPPENED.My ask box kept getting filled with puns to be approved, rhyming his name with stuff became a thing and now even BLIZZ says “Dadgar” like jfc what even.And then like. I don’t even know, a lot of it is a blur because it all happened so fast but the BIGGEST THING.Was that for the first time ever, being myself wasn’t met with bullying and hate and people telling me to shut up and go away or anything like that.People -loved- Khadgar in-game. And people -loved- finding a Khadgar blog that “when I read their posts I can hear Khadgar’s voice”.  And better yet? KHADGAR WASN’T A VILLAIN! (Don’t get me wrong, I loooove AU’s but imagine being a kid and you can only ever connect to villains and then people hate you anyways IT DOESN’T FEEL TOO GREAT).And uh. Yeah. I don’t really know where to go with this. But yeah! It was the first time where I felt like nothing was wrong with who I was. That there was nothing wrong with being book smart and having a sense of humor and looking death in the face and just eye-rolling and going “Well aiight.”I mean hell yeah there’s been an epic shit ton of drama with people being jealous and making shit up and who the hell even knows what any of that was about anymore, and there’s still plenty of bullshit in my life keeping me otherwise miserable and I’m getting really frustrated that every goal I try to accomplish gets utterly destroyed in some way and I’m currently an emotional husk and I 100% HAVE NOT been myself lately as I’m a mix of grieving and severely hurt and physically ill and I’ve been broken pretty damn hard and when I pull myself back together it’s probably going to be like. 11th Doctor just turning into cranky 12 and not being pleasant BUT. The muse is still strong, the muse is honestly probably the strongest thing about me. Not because I think that I’m actually, really Khadgar and that’s ME you’re talking to in game and Azeroth is real, etc, etc. But it’s strong because that type of muse was already something that was effortless for me and part of my personality foundation. And before the blog it was withering away and crumbling and I had no self-love to keep it going anymore and then the blog happened, and even though I still have 0 self-love, I genuinely hate myself, the love from others healed it, and my love for the character, I think, is my subconscious finding a weird loophole to get around the self-hate because I CAN’T HATE KHADGAR, and fucking hell whenever I make a pun irl and someone is a shithead about it or calls me annoying over voice chat, my brain is like. “Yeah, but if Khadgar were real. He’d laugh.” And eventually, it’s like….”OKAY FINE. IT WAS FUNNY. THAT PERSON IS JUST A SHITHEAD.” I can’t remember where I was going with that. Uhhhhhh……SOMETHING SOMETHING.I absolutely hate myself and feel as if I’m undeserving of love because I’m a horrible, broken person that makes stupid mistakes and is only good for hurting others and being a bitchB U TI hate myself a little bit less when I RP a character, like Khadgar, that lines up with one of my personality foundations, and the general response to it is people loving it and telling them I make them happy.  I’ve still had more hate directed at me in the past (and sadly the present) than I have love. But uh. It doesn’t take much love to get me all sappy and crying and happy.  (Hate is a tossup, a lot of hate I can take but certain, specific things will strike me hard and fast).SO LIKE. Uh. I know the majority of my foundation at the moment is either destroyed or heavily damaged, cause I’ve also been heckin angry a lot lately and I don’t know how to deal with that at all since it’s something new so a lot of my foundation wasn’t protected against that, and I’ve certainly died emotionally a few times more this year than my normal rate of it taking a couple years or more to emotionally die and regenerate. BUT THE PART that’s still holding fast and bouncing off all the negative self-destructive shit is because of Khadgar, and all 1,297 of you (give or take) that’ve either stuck with this blog since the beginning and through a blog deletion and change or have come recently. That send in everything from ARCANE MEAT to puns, to AU ideas to random nice things SO UH. This is turning into an awkward unexpected thank you, to all of you. dashjkIt’s more than likely that I will live the rest of my life absolutely hating myself, and it’s possible that the rest of my foundations may never heal or be repaired. Even though I can easily attach some of them to characters like Khadgar for the most part, I just….eh. I dunno. No outlet and it’s not prompted ever and…it hurts still cause they’re broken. Which, eh, whatever, healing can’t be forced or half-assed, cause you can’t expect a broken leg to heal as fast as a papercut, all you can do is wait and let things heal or you’ll make it worse, but then obviously you can’t heal EVERYTHING otherwise no one would ever be disabled, but REGARDLESS.I may always hate myself. But I’ll always love Khadgar. And YOU guys love Khadgar. And you enjoy me rping Khadgar. So then I guess MAAAAYBE.It helps. With making it worth. Sticking around for a little bit longer.  :T

[hankypranky]

More Ambiguous with Two

Gabriel x Winchester Sister 

Reader wakes up in the trunk of car with no memories. The driver is just as shocked and they continue their path of discovery together with a chimpanzee named Sparkles.

Hurt/Comfort, Amnesia Fic, Feels slightly AU

Part I (word count 2200)

Inspired by this video of this girl escaping from zipties using her shoe laces.

Notes: It was meant to be a reader insert, but it got away from me a bit. The character isn’t gender neutral, it is told from the reader’s perspective with female pronouns - very little description of self other than having hair long enough to wash.

For a split second you thought you had been buried alive but you felt the motion around you and the slight smell of carbon dioxide. Then the bass began thumping through the speakers, ridiculing your pounding headache as you realized you were in the trunk of a car. A flare of panic spiked, but your center of mass started shifting. Unable to brace yourself against anything you involuntarily rolled onto your face, hissing in pain.

Your hands were bound behind your back and your feet strapped together. Everything hurt. Trying to think back to how you ended up in this trunk… there was no recollection. Fuck.

Taking in deep breaths, you tried to remain calm but it was growing increasingly frustrating when the music was turned up louder. The lyrics filling your head and you instantly hated it.

Having your hands in front of you was your first priority to getting out of these bindings as quickly as possible. With little room to maneuver, you turned on your side to hunch your back in an attempt slide your legs through your hands to have them in front of you.The more you inched backwards, the deeper the bindings cut into your flesh. … They were zip ties. Taking a deep breath, you opened the palm of your hand to relax the muscles in your wrist and give you a margin of more room to shimmy with.

It helped, but the strain you were putting on your bindings was great as your fingers became slippery with what you assumed was blood. It was a huge relief when your shoulders released and your hands sprung against the back of your knees. However, it was short lived because the driver hit a pothole and you bounced with so much force, you felt your arm break when you landed. Screaming out loud did nothing to mask the pain but you needed to carry on. You still weren’t done yet.

Extending your arms forward, you pulled your knees to your chest and swooped your arms around your legs officially freeing your hands from behind your back.

A bubble of fear, relief and pain swept through you and a sob escaped your lips. Clenching your teeth you took a steadying breath and rolled onto your left side to take the pressure off your broken arm. You lifted your feet to tie your boot laces together. You couldn't finger them, so so you bent down and pulled the string up with your teeth.

This next part had you worried. You needed to use your laces as a saw which was going to hurt like a son of a b*. Your feet were bound, so you couldn't use the pedal motion. You needed to use your hands and shoulders to create enough friction to cut through the zip tie. Trying to keep more pull on your left arm didn’t help much, every pull had you crying out in pain, your body revolting in every motion. Tightening your grip with your broken arm, you gave it all you had to end this sooner…

It snapped. Your adrenaline was pumping now and there was nothing that was going to keep you a victim. Sliding the place between your ankles, you did the same thing with your feet, except this time you weren’t going to use your right arm. Instead, you slipped the lace through the crook of your left elbow, and did a seesaw motion with your right hand. Though it was causing a nasty rash and took much longer, it was worth avoiding your bad arm.

Despite being locked inside of a trunk, you were free. Why are you locked inside of the boot of this car? Who put you here? Your memory was as dark as this damned trunk.

The music pulled you out of your musings. Time to get to the facts.

Finding the soft spot where the tail light should be you began kicking. Forgetting to brace your arm was a mistake, but one rectified quickly. You kicked so hard your foot got suck momentarily. Shifting around you pulled the liner off to reveal the a desolate highway.

Day time, check.

Other things to assess:

Am I hungry? No.

Am I thirsty? No.

Shit. I’m in so much pain, I can’t tell.

Am I dehydrated?

Your tongue slipped out to find very chapped lips. Definitely dehydrated.

Reaching out you touched your face, there were no open wounds, but a lump on your chin. Punched in the face. Must have been a knockout hit. That explains the memory loss. Okay, so maybe I have been out about 5 hours?

Now having most your mobility back, you made the decision to let the driver know you were awake. They wouldn't be expecting you be free and to strike first. You waited until the song stopped playing before kicking and yelling at the top of your lungs. The next song started playing, but the driver turned off the music, so you kicked even harder against the top of the trunk. As the car slowed down, your heart sped up.

Listening to the steps the driver was taking towards the trunk, you secure your broken arm and positioned yourself to to attack.

Tap tap tap.

Was this person seriously knocking on the trunk?

A man’s voice asked, “Hello? Is someone in there?”

Mimicking his tap, tap, tap, you waited for a response that came in the click of the trunk opening.

The light blinded you but you saw enough of a shape to make sure your punch landed on their face. Your knuckles connected and you fought the urge to close your eyes.

He fell to the ground and began scrambling backwards on the pavement, “Who the hell are you?”

He was still a blur, but his shock was evident. You shouted back at him, “Who the hell are you?”

The man raising his hand in a non threatening gesture, his eyes wide with fear. “Look, I’m not going to hurt you. I- I literally rented this car this morning.”

Still unable to focus on anything in particular, you accepted the fact he was as surprised as you were. Slowly nodding your head, you believed him. He slowly stood, intentionally trying to make no sudden movements. “You’re hurt. Let me get you to a hospital.”

“Where are we?”

He stood and dusted his hands off on his green jacket, “In Nevada. Off Route 80. About halfway between Reno and Salt Lake City. What’s your name?”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you accidentally dropped your broken arm. “Son of a bitch!”

Your arm hung loosely on your side but you could still move your fingers. Grasping your arm, you squeezed your triceps and biceps. You spoke to yourself out loud, “Ok, it’s just dislocated”

Finally able to see the man in front of you, his expression consumed your attention, especially his eyes. They looked gold at first, but had a bit of auburn woven in, for a moment you were mesmerized. “Help me pop it back in.”

“No!” He looked horrified at the thought. “ We gotta’ get you to a doctor.”

You wouldn’t be able to hold out that long, “I can do it myself, but I’d rather have you help me.” Taking in his startled appearance, you asked gently, “Please?”

He huffed out a breath so grand it stirred the bangs on his hairline. “How can I help?”

You walked towards the back of the generic blue sedan and gestured for him to stand near the right side of the car. Settling yourself on the trunk hood you cradled your arm. “I need to relax the muscles first… talk to me. Tell me about yourself. I’m still running on adrenaline.”

You squinted against the sky to see him. Wiping his brow he stared at your in bafflement. “Uh, well my name is Rich and I work in Reno.”

It was difficult to relax, but you closed your eyes knowing the worst of the pain should be over soon, “Oh yeah? Doing what?”

“Gee, what don’t I do. Bartender, host, ticket collector, whatever they need me to do. We’re like a modern circus. We have a variety of performances, some freaks, delicious drinks. I do what needs to be done.” His pacing calms your nerves, he doesn’t have anything to do with your kidnapping. He burst out, “How are you so calm?”

“Did you lock me in the trunk?”

“Hell no!”

“That’s what I figured. I need you to calm down too, okay?” He stopped roaming. “I’m sorry I ruined your day.”

Rich moved in front of you and blocked the sun, it silhouetted around him and it looked like a halo formed above his head. “You’re sorry? What?” He looked down at you and you could see the sincerity and hesitation in his eyes, “ No, no. Look at you. I’m sorry.”

His voiced soothed you in such a way you felt like your worries had been washed away. His voiced bounced from gravelly to high pitched and back in just a few syllables. “Okay, I think I’m ready.” You laid across the trunk. It was hot but not enough to burn you. “Grab hold of my wrist with both your hands, keep my arm level with my body.”

There was a long pause before you felt his firm but gentle grip. Biting your lip, you kept your groan to a minimum. “I need you to move my arm from 90 degrees towards my head while making a handshake motion. Can you do that? Not too fast, not too slow.”

“Yea’.” He gave your wrist a squeeze. “You ready?”

“Yep.” The pain was excruciating, but you felt your joint slide back into place. It hurt, a lot but it was nothing like it was. He moved your arm back so that you could cradle it once again.

“How did you know how to do that? Are you a paramedic or something?”

Unable to even entertain that question, you interrupted him, rubbing your arm, “Hey, I’m gonna’ need a sling or something.”

“Sugar, you need a lot of everything right now. Hold tight.” After a few moments of him scrambling in the backseat, you heard a loud tear. He had ripped one of his undershirts and was approaching with a gallon of water. “Let’s get some of this blood cleaned off before we put this on.” Dowsing his shirt in water, he began to clean your hands. Gently pulling your fingers, wiping away the blood. “Tell me, how did your wrists get to looking’ like this?”

Taking a moment to look at him, his hair shined in the sunlight. It reminded you of a wheat field swaying in the breeze. A few freckled donning his face and thin lips. Though he had a small stature, he made you feel small for some inexplicable reason.

“Freakin’ zip ties. I was hogtied in your trunk with zip ties.” You watched as his eyes widened and waited for you to continue, “I- uh, used the friction from my shoelaces to saw through them.”

Disbelief covered his face, “I thought you said you were hogtied?”

Slightly embarrassed, you felt your cheeks redden, “I was, but I was able to shimmy my arms under my butt to get them in front, but you hit a pothole and that's how I dislocated my shoulder.”

He looked at you, his eyebrows quirked together, “You’re certainly a badass aren't you?”

Your head began to hurt once again. “I guess so… I don’t remember much right now.”

His eyes sharply met yours, “What do you mean, like amnesia?”

Startled by his seriousness, you pulled back, You knew your memory wasn’t right, but the thought of not remembering startled you. Meeting his gaze, you saw the color drain from his face. It perplexed you more. Did he know something?

“It must be the carbon monoxide.” Running your fingers over the lump you had found on your chin, you raised your hand to feel your skull. Your fingers stopped when they discovered another bump and caked on blood in your hair. “I must have a concussion too.”

“Well, we’ll get you to a hospital.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“What do you think they are going to do? I have no ID, no possessions. I’m on my own. They are just gonna call the police.”

“That’s kinda the point Toots. They can help.”

“Yeah, sure, but then what? I’m still on my own no matter what.. From what I can gather, I’ve only been out about 6 hours, not enough time for a missing persons report.  If someone was trying to get rid of me, I don’t want an APB out I’ll have more luck with contacting the car rental place.”

Rich’s hand was on his hip, he snarked back, “Oh yeah? What are you gonna’ say, ‘Helloooo, I woke up bound in one of your trunks, do you recognize me?’”

“Look, you packed light. You plan on going back to Reno shortly, let me tag along and we can talk to the rental place. IF they don’t have any information, I’ll go to the police. Deal?”

His arm flung out with his pointer finger extended, “A. That’s creepy you have been able to deduct all of that in the last ten minutes. B. Do you know how frustrating you are?”

“No.”

“Right, right… amnesia.” He sighed and opened the passenger door for you and awkwardly helped you put your seat belt on.

-- -- -- 

If you want to be tagged, just let me know! Currently, it’s at about 17,000 words.  I will most likely continue to post chapters here as I finish the last couple of chapters. You can find my A03 here.

[carolinenicolettes]

MEET CAROLINE ESTELLE NICOLETTE ! 

(IN)CORRECT QUOTE -

“ this is taking too long ! i’m going to miss the farmer’s market ! ” —scary terry or scary caroline? who knows

“ she liked messy beds and movie nights without any lights on. she liked the quiet company of a few good friends. her idea of love was gentle and silent, like a whisper of a touch. some things are magical and magic, contrary to popular opinion, is often found in the most ordinary of places. ”

BASIC

NAME: caroline estelle nicolette NICKNAMES: n o p e it is caroline or NADA  AGE: 21 BIRTHDAY: may 1st SPECIES: starchild  GENDER: cisfemale PRONOUNS: she/her

FAMILY

MOTHER: amelia nicolette — born into money, massive name in the fashion industry, only wears fashionable power suits and celestial themed jewelry, drinks expensive whiskey neat FATHER: unknown PARENTS: raised by her mother, kind of. had a nanny named maggie growing up whom she loved dearly and was very good friends with a doorman named robert as well. it takes a village, you know. FAMILY: direct relation to the nicolette family that you all know and love aka odette. caroline’s mother is odette’s father’s sister. SIBLINGS: not at all.

PHYSIAL ATTRIBUTES

FACE CLAIM: scarlett leithold NATIONALITY: american HEIGHT: 5′7 WEIGHT: 139lbs BUILD: slender, and a bit insecure about that HAIR: long with a subtle wave , nearly down to her waist for now  HAIR COLOR: golden blonde with a few summery platinum highlights EYE COLOR: baby bluuuue DOMINANT HAND: left ANOMALIES: during warmer months, and nearly year round since moving to california, there are little freckles dusted across her nose  SCENT: seasalt, cocounut, sunscreen . . . . and occasionally mon paris by ysl ACCENT: she fought against that new york accent tooth and nail so none ALLERGIES: cats but also bullshit DISORDERS: dbd — dumb bitch disorder FASHION: an odd mix of vintage. corduroy dresses, plaid skirts, ribbed turtlenecks, velvet headbands, doc marten boots. a lil 60s, a lil 70s, a lil 90s. despite having quite a bit of money, she’s always wearing at least one thing that looks hand-me-down and that’s because her mother never threw anything away, so it likely is.  NERVOUS TICS: rocks back and forth from her toes to her heels, death grip on a camera strap, tucking her hair behind her ears QUIRKS: collects enamel pins, always has a camera on her, closes her eyes when trying to focus on listening

LIFESTYLE

RESIDES: east side, victoria BORN: new york city RAISED: new york city VEHICLE:  black 1969 chevy camaro, rarely ever drives it though as she bikes/skates most places PHONE: iphone 11 pro :\ COMPUTER: mac desktop collecting DUST PETS: too busy sneezing bc of odette’s cat

HIGH SCHOOL EDUCATION: graduated COLLEGE EDUCATION: senior MAJOR: museum studies, photography MINOR: film studies CAREER: freelance photographer, current waste of space living off of that family $$$ EXPERIENCE: apprenticeships in fashion photography, internships in museum curation  TRAINED IN: photography and classical ballet (reluctantly) OTHER: literally just .... she’s had a camera of some sort in her hand since she was like 12

POLITICAL AFFILIATION: liberal RELIGION: worships the ground stevie nicks, cher, and debbie harry walk on but that’s about it BELIEFS: you have to be really careful when buying sweaters from thrift stores because 80% of them are absolutely haunted MISDEMEANORS: none FELONIES: none  TICKETS AND/OR VIOLATIONS: NONE  DRUGS: once or twice but she’s strung out enough on her own  SMOKES: weed, on occasion. cigarettes are gross. ALCOHOL: leisurely, mostly socially. Queen of Beer Pong™ DIET: fairly healthy, not at all picky, a little bougie.

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: labels are stupid SEXUAL ORIENTATION: and sexuality is fluid MARTIAL STATUS: never going to happen CHILDREN: *nervous laughter* AVAILABILITY: not at all LOOKING FOR: she’s actually legally blind so

LANGUAGES: english, french

PHOBIAS: fuck spiders SPECIFICALLY. might cry but also doesn’t want you to kill it just... take it out and awaaaay HOBBIES: photography, film — the act of and the watching of, hiking, live shows, bothering odette. literally has/had 3294328049 of them but is really only good at photography/film TRAITS: + adaptable, loyal, charismatic, clever, playful, adventurous ; - flighty, forgetful, cynical, unforgiving, disorganized, impatient SOCIAL MEDIA: the works - snapchat, twitter, instagram

FAVOURITE

LOCATION: photo pit at small venue concerts, anywhere within 10 feet of the pacific SPORTS TEAM: whomst  GAME: playin w people’s HEARTS ...... jk ....... kinda MUSIC: haim, fleetwood mac, the aces... any band with a female lead singer SHOWS: ghost adventures, big little lies MOVIES: frances ha, almost famous, bob dylan: don’t look back RADIO STATION: anything that strictly plays oldies FOOD: loves baked goods BEVERAGE: cold brew coffee, cinnamon spice tea COLOR: a nice dusty rose :\

CHARACTER

MORAL ALIGNMENT: chaotic good MBTI: isfp — the adventurer ENNEAGRAM: type 7, the enthusiast  ZODIAC: taurus HOGWARTS HOUSE: hufflepuff TAROT CARD: the empress TV TROPES: max mayfield, serena van der woodsen, ainsley howard, donna sheridan and honestly? eloise  SONG: summer girl - haim

IDEOLOGIES: shove it down shove all the emotions DOWN do not feel. you can tell a lot about a person based on the music they listen to when they’re sad. three is the luckiest number.

THE RUNDOWN 

amelia nicolette never intended to be a mother. she was freshly 21, inches from a moment that could launch her career in the fashion industry, and she hadn’t been in love or even interested in the idea since she was seventeen. so when a one night stand with a wealthy older man, left her with morning sickness and an odd appetite for two, she was less than thrilled. 

he was even less thrilled, insisting that she terminate the pregnancy. i’ll drive you, he’d said in a hushed tone. only then did she see the tan line wrapped around his ring finger. a married man. a one night stand. and a complete bastard . amelia decided, then and there, to carry to term and then put the baby up for adoption.

until may 1st at 3AM on the dot when the most obnoxious scream split through the air. a baby, just slightly too small, kicking and screaming relentlessly was born in manhattan. a baby who wouldn’t shut up until she was placed in the arms of her mother, where she fell quiet and calm and she slept. 

amelia nicolette never intended to fall in love, but holding her tiny baby girl, she knew then and there that she was a goner. caroline, as a song that sounded like joy played from a radio at the nurse’s station. estelle, for the stars. nicolette, the only family name she’d ever need. 

for three years, it was just the two of them in a new york penthouse, and amelia learned quickly that she was good at being a mother. but that didn’t change her free-spirited nature or the way her heart had a tendency to yearn for more. she had the resources, and caroline was old enough — . . . and she’d been sketching for years, sitting on top of a portfolio that piled a mile high.

along comes nanny, maggie, and thus began the life she’d lead for the rest of her childhood. mom spent a lot of time at work, building a fashion brand that went international by the time caroline was 6. because of this, she was gone more often than not, leaving caroline to grow up under the watchful eye of a nanny.

but she called every night. made it home for every big holiday, every recital, every birthday. in the summers, caroline would spend her time split between visiting her mother, visiting odette, and visiting a beach house in victoria. there was a certain lack of permanence that caused her to be adaptable, allowed her to be comfortable with change and give into the whims of a free spirit like her mother’s.

but people filtered in and out, came and went, and on the flip side of the same coin, there was a sense of detachment , a fear of getting too close to people who would move out or move on.

despite this, caroline never found herself to be lonely. she was a friendly little thing with bright eyes and a sparkling curiosity, picking up hobbies instead of toys, but never quite being exceptional at any of them. she made friends with doormen and caused problems for the people behind the desk. she became good, early on, at keeping herself busy, making her own fun – . . . all things that have very much carried into adulthood.

she was lucky, and she’s fully aware of it which is why, from a young age, she always did her best to find ways to give that luck to people who seemed to need it. 

things had a tendency to be tumultuous, what with her mother coming and going and her very best friend being in and out of the hospital, but she tried to go with the flow as best as she could. things were good but never truly exceptional.

until she met jude. he’d been in the same children’s wing as odette, and they’d known each other for a little bit before caroline met him. the three of them were inseparable, at first, simply best friends. but as they got older, feelings shifted and two friends became more than that.

our girl was in love for the very first time. and it was sweet and gentle and everything a first love is supposed to be. over time, that love grew, just as they did, and it was visible to anyone with eyes that they were in love. for two years, it was good, he was good. 

and then he wasn’t. despite two years of remission and a healthy life, he fell ill again. there was nothing to do but stand by and watch as six months passed by, far too quickly, and he slipped away into nothing. ultimately passing away just a week before his 20th birthday. 

caroline didn’t allow herself to feel it, for a while, lingering in the denial stage of grief for far too long. new york felt empty without him, without odette, without her mother, and it didn’t take much for her to pack her things and join her mother overseas, taking a gap year from school and focusing on herself, on her photography.

she spent a lot of time with a press pass around her neck. fashion shows and fashion shoots. major events and sports games. concerts and festivals. but there was one thing she loved more than anything else, and that was capturing the off-guard joy of life in candids of strangers on the street or in the crowds of bars and concerts. she found her own style, her own way of storytelling through a lens, and slowly but surely she began to heal.

still, there was no way around the way her heart felt a little heavier, a little darker, and how smiles from strangers at the other end of the bar made her stomach churn. she developed an aversion to new relationships of any sort, anything deeper than surface level becoming a bit too close for comfort. 

and while life traveling was fun, she missed having a sense of home, so she went to where the only other person who felt like home was, finding herself moving into a house with odette in victoria.

she’s been around for a couple of months, coming out of a gap year and looking to finish her degree in the spring. victoria, for now, is home.

these days she’s a little bit more cynical. a little bit less likely to let people too close. a little bit lost but also who isn’t when they’re 21

[danfanciesphil]

Some Kind Of Folliful (New Chapter)

Edgelord!Dan x ObliviousBisexual!Phil AU [CHAPTER SIX] (based off the 80′s classic Some Kind of Wonderful)

Synopsis: Dan has one friend, and only because he was forced into it. Phil is loud, excitable, and irritatingly happy all of the time. Phil seems to find Dan’s perpetual attitude funny, and despite Dan’s best efforts to shun him and everyone else, wants to be around him all the time. That is, until Phil starts talking about Amanda Jones. Word Count: WIP (Estimated 12-15 chapters) updates every Tuesday Rating: Explicit Warnings: Smoking, swearing, implied prostitution, broken home, class divide/classism, pining, light homophobia, sex

[Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four] [Chapter Five]

[Ao3!]

Dan hates the closing shift.

Or rather, he hates it usually.

He hates the hour it takes to shut the café down after the last customer leaves. He hates having to clean the entire coffee machine inside and out. He hates the pressure of counting the money in the till, especially as he sucks at maths.

He hates having to wipe down every table and surface. He hates having to restock the milk in the fridge and the sugar on the counter. He loathes having to switch off every single light one by one, letting the shadows crawl out of their corners and smother the place. He usually does this final task at the last possible moment, so that he can just walk straight to the door and leave as soon as possible. The café, which is quite a sweet, pretty place with a soft, happy feel in the daytime, becomes something evil in the dark.

Tonight however, it’s not so bad. The late shift is given to Dan at least once a week, because he’s worked here a lot longer than most of the other staff, and so can be trusted. He’s done it so many times that he could do it blindfolded, he’s sure, so Louise allows him to do it on his own.

Tonight, he’s not on his own.

Phil walked to work with him today, and has stayed ever since. He has seemed perfectly content all evening, sat at a table for two in the corner by the window, drawing in his sketchpad. He’s ordered at least three coffees, which he’ll probably regret once he gets home and can’t sleep, but Dan isn’t going to lecture him again. The last customer left around twenty minutes ago, and Phil is still there, frowning down at whatever he’s sketching. Dan has just finished counting up, so he walks over to Phil’s table to collect the mug he’s been drinking from.

“You planning on sleeping here?” He asks, picking up the mug and saucer.

Phil looks up at him in surprise. “Oh, hey let me take that.”

Dan snorts at him. “It’s literally my job, Phil.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Dan walks away then, shaking his head fondly at Phil’s owlish protestations.

“Am I slowing you down?” Phil calls as Dan heads into the kitchen. “I can go if you like.”

“No, it’s fine,” Dan calls back, rinsing the crockery before stacking it into the dishwasher. “Just don’t make a mess.”

“It’s kind of creepy here after hours,” Phil says as Dan walks back out. “I don’t know how you do it all on your own.”

“I’m not on my own,” Dan counters.

There’s a hesitance on Phil’s face when Dan glances at him. “You think I’m nuts, don’t you? For going through with the date.”

Dan looks away, busying himself with stacking chairs. The scraping of the legs on the tiled floor makes him wince. “It’s certainly brave.”

Phil snorts. “Brave. Because you think it’s a joke. That she doesn’t actually like me, and that she’s doing it to get back at Hardy.”

A chair clatters from Dan’s hands, and he curses. Instead of picking it back up, he turns to Phil. “It might have crossed my mind.”

“I know that’s what everyone thinks,” Phil says, shrugging. “That she’s just using me. I get it. It’s ridiculous to think she’d actually consider me.”

“It’s got nothing to do with you, Phil,” Dan says quietly. “That’s just how they are in the Elite. They don’t think about the feelings of people like us. The only time they even acknowledge us is if we can benefit their lives in some way. Getting them coffee. Giving them lifts home. Making their boyfriend’s jealous.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Phil says dismissively, frowning in an uncharacteristic way. “I’m still gonna go through with it.”

Getting through to Phil is like trying to get through to the floor beneath his feet.

“Even if you know for sure that she’s stringing you along?” Dan asks, barely disguising his frustration. “Phil, that’s suicidal. If she’s purposefully dangling you in front of Hardy Jenns you’re gonna get your ass kicked.”

“If that’s her intention going in, that’s her problem. I’m gonna change her mind by the time the date is over,” Phil says confidently.

“Okay, now I do think you’re nuts,” Dan says.

He begins stacking the chairs again, loudly and with a recklessness that he wouldn’t normally. He should drop this, change the subject or something. But the irritation is overwhelming. Phil can’t see two feet under his nose. He’s being stubborn, because he feels he has to prove he can go through with this now, even though every star in the sky is screaming at him to turn back.

“I’ve thought about it a lot, Dan.”

“Oh, I can see that,” Dan says, rolling his eyes.

“I have,” Phil insists.  I think I can make her see that it’s better to be in the real world with the rest of us, rather than up in the clouds of the Elite. That she’d be happier without all the drama and the materialism and the seedy guys.”

Dan snorts. “How’re you gonna show her that, exactly? What’ve you got to offer her apart from a paintbrush and some overpriced jewellery? I mean, have you even properly kissed a girl?”

He doesn’t mean it to come out so harshly, but he’s angry, and his tongue doesn’t listen to him when he gets into a state. He shuts his eyes, placing the chair in his hands down.

“Sorry,” he says bitterly, “I didn’t mean-”

“No, you’re right,” Phil interrupts. He stands slowly from his chair and lifts it onto the table. “I’ve only ever kissed one person. It’s been worrying me a little, actually.”

Dan stares at him through the legs of several chairs, trying to think of something to say.

“You think Amanda would notice something like that?” Phil asks, meeting Dan’s eye. His raw, genuine concern is so obvious in his expression that Dan has to tear his gaze away.

“Maybe.” He can’t stop himself saying it, because it’s the truth. “Amanda Jones isn’t likely to be fooled by an amateur kiss, if you ask me. That babe’s got plenty of battle scars.”

Phil rolls his eyes at the wording, but catches hold of his lower lip between his teeth, worrying it to and fro. “You think?”

Dan nods slowly, leaning against an unstacked table for some support. Something about this conversation feels dangerous. Dan can feel his heart racing, his palms growing damp. He swallows thickly, mouth suddenly dry.

“Well, if you think you can deliver a kiss that kills, you probably can,” Dan says, one shoulder shrugging. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“No,” Phil says hurriedly, taking a step towards him. “I’m no expert.”

Dan stares at him.

“Well… it’s all about, like,” Dan flounders, feeling himself grow red. “Confidence.”

Phil ducks his chin towards his chest, then peers up at Dan, eyes sparkling with mischief. Before Dan can react, Phil’s closing the short distance between them in three long strides, pushing him up against the table behind him. Dan’s lungs seize up, but manages to gather himself enough to prevent himself from squealing at the unexpected attack.

“Like this?” Phil asks.

He’s smirking like it’s a stupid joke, but Dan’s breaths are still getting stuck in his throat. Dan rolls his eyes, but there’s no way Phil can’t hear the hammering of his heart.

“Yeah, just ram her up against the table,” Dan says, ever the sarcastic bitch. “She definitely won’t find that creepy.”

Phil snickers. “You seem to like it.”

“Fuck off.”

Instead of obeying Dan’s command, Phil seizes hold of him by the thighs and lifts him deftly onto the tabletop, slotting himself between Dan’s legs. At this point, Dan is sure he’ll combust, so he focuses all of his attention on the tasks he has left to do before locking up tonight. Mop the floor in the kitchen, put the float into the safe, kick Phil in the balls for being such a fucking tease…

“So, what next?”

Exasperated, Dan glares at him, struggling to break free of Phil’s hold. “Forget it, I did not sign up to be your snogging tutor.”

“Dan, I’m literally begging,” Phil says, letting slip a sudden flash of the insecurity lurking beneath his flirtatious demeanour. “I just need to know if I suck. I just need to be passable. You can help me, I know you can.”

Dan is far, far too soft, he thinks, melting immediately, of course. Any resistance he may once have had was dissolved a few nights ago, in Phil’s bed, when the realisation of his own feelings for the man avalanched down upon him. He’s been trapped underneath the debris of that revelation ever since, struggling to breathe, aching and tortured, awaiting rescue that won’t come.  

“Ugh, fine,” Dan says, as if it’s some huge inconvenience.

Phil’s hands release Dan’s thighs, clapping together in glee. “Thank you, Dan. I owe you.”

“At this point, your debt to me is higher than all of England.”

“Right, so what do I do now?”

Dan struggles to focus, but catches sight of Phil’s frantically fidgeting hands. He can start with that, at least. “What are you gonna do with your hands?”

Phil blinks at him, confused. “Uh, it- it depends-”

“No,” Dan tells him firmly. “It doesn’t depend. They go on my- on her hips.” He blushes, waiting for this to register, but Phil just stares.  “Do it, you pleb.”

Phil chuckles nervously, but reaches out to place his hands on Dan’s hips. They’re just resting there, light as anything, but the touch of him, light and warm, still makes Dan want to cry.

“Okay,” he chokes out. “She’ll um- she’ll probably do this.”

Dan stretches his own arms out, reaching up until he’s got them locked around Phil’s neck.

“Is that what you’d do?” Phil asks, his voice sounding strange and thin. “If I were- if it were you being kissed?”

Dan shrugs, disliking the question. “Prob’ly.”

Phil nods, drinking down the information like it’s gold. “Okay, what now?”

“So, close your eyes,” Dan instructs, and Phil does. He’s so passively beautiful. All pale skin and dark lashes. Dan is not in any way ready for what’s about to happen here. How the fuck did he get himself into this situation? “Now, lean in really close to me, but… don’t touch me yet.”

There’s no denying that at this point, self indulgence has come into play. Dan can’t bring himself to feel too bad about it. He’s never going to get an opportunity like this again, and in all likelihood Phil’s too clueless to cotton on to whether Dan might be a little biased in his instruction. Phil closes some of the distance between them, their lips close now; Dan tightens his lock around Phil’s neck. He smells like the caramel macchiatos Dan’s been making for him all evening.

He lets Phil wait for it. In Dan’s opinion, the best part about a kiss is the build up. It’s the space between them, humming with an electric yearning. It’s the eyes darting to one another’s mouths, and the slow, careful dance around the minefield of wrong moves as they work up to it.

“Okay,” Dan whispers, knowing his breath will sizzle against Phil’s lips. He feels Phil shiver, and it makes his stomach flip. “Now, open your eyes.”

Confused, Phil does as told. He seems a little stunned to see Dan up so close.

“Like this?”

Dan nods, their noses brushing. “Tell her something.”

Phil frowns. “Tell her what?”

“Whatever you want,” Dan near-whispers. For some reason, his eyes sting. He focuses them on Phil’s tongue as it sweeps over his lower lip. “Tell her she’s got pretty eyes, or she’s a hot babe. Whatever you want.”

“I’m not telling her she’s a hot babe,” Phil says, rolling his eyes. He seems a little pink-cheeked, though. “And I’m certainly not telling you you’re a hot babe.”

“So tell me something else, then,” Dan says before he can stop himself. “I mean, pretend I’m her. Amanda. And tell me what you want to tell me.”

“Pretend you’re her?” Phil asks, eyes roving over Dan’s face as though it’s an impossible feat.

“I know it’s a stretch Phil, but try it.”

Phil is silent, his lips pressing together as he surveys Dan, still so close that he’s probably all blurry in Phil’s vision anyway. Eventually, Dan kicks him.

“Come on,” he prompts, heart stuttering already.

His palms have gone past clammy into damp; he feels a bit dizzy, from the coffees he’s been drinking, and the cigarette he hasn’t had yet. This is something from his wildest, most surreal dreams, something he honestly never thought would happen, and here it is, right in front of him. He blinks, but it doesn’t go away. Phil is still so irresistibly close, the blue around his eyes thinned to a sliver, his heartbeat loud enough to hear.

“You’re the most beautiful thing…” Phil starts to say, his voice slow and quiet. “I have ever seen.”

Dan’s breath catches, and he feels his eyes sting again. He nods. “That’ll work.”

“Now what?” Phil asks.

“Now kiss me.”

Phil’s eyes widen, but he leans forwards readily. Dan’s breath hitches again, and he finds himself drawing back a little.

“Wait,” he says hurriedly. He fixes Phil with a hard stare, trying to appear as unaffected as possible. “If you stick your tongue in my mouth, I will bite it off, do you understand?”

Phil laughs, looking a little relieved, and nods. Then, the hands on his hips yank him forwards, and Dan is being kissed. Slowly at first, tentative and unsure, but then harder, hungrier, as though some levee inside of Phil has broken. His hands tighten on Dan’s hips, fingers pushing into Dan’s skin, so hard it could bruise.

Phil’s lips drag Dan’s apart; he flicks his tongue against Dan’s lip ring, then pushes it into Dan’s mouth, breaking the one, singular rule Dan had given him, but he finds he doesn’t even care. He never meant it anyway. He likes tongue. He would give anything not to know the taste of Phil’s, but only because he’ll never know it again.

He tastes like coffee, and caramel, and the bitter lead of his pencil when he licks the tip. Dan whimpers as these flavours unfurl across his taste buds; he pulls himself closer to Phil by the vice grip he has around his neck.

They kiss for what feels like hours, but it still isn’t enough. There’s a sudden vibration against his thigh, from what must be the phone in Phil’s pocket. Like a shock of icy water thrown in his face, he remembers the time. He remembers the day, his own name, his tragedy of a life, and more importantly, who Phil is thinking about right now.

Somehow, along with the surge of disgust for himself that rises like bile in his throat, Dan manages to summon the strength to unwind his arms from Phil’s neck and shove, hard, against his chest. Phil stumbles backwards, shocked, his lips wet and reddened. There’s an indent in their corner from where Dan’s lip ring has pressed into his flesh, and the sight of it is making Dan want to throw up.

“Fucking hell, Phil,” Dan pants, staring at him. Phil just stares, stunned, breathing heavily. “You don’t need lessons, okay? You’re fine.”

Dan swallows, hands braced against the table as he tries to gain some control. How did he just let that happen? He is so, so fucked.

“Sorry,” Phil says at last. “I… I don’t know what- you’re just so, um, pretty, and it was all nice and familiar- I guess I just… I got carried away.”

“Carried away,” Dan repeats with a humourless laugh, still breathless. “Just a little.”

Phil ducks his head, his cheeks a little flushed. “Thanks, though. For helping me.”

Dan shakes his head, barely able to believe his ears. He feels a rush of hot, stinging anger flooding his veins, and he glares at Phil, unable to suppress it.

“Sure. What else am I here for, anyway?”

“What?”

“About the only thing I’m good for, isn’t it?” Dan spits out. He stands from the table on jelly legs, untying his apron and yanking it off. “As the town whore, you might as well use me for practise.”

“Dan, what- that is not why I-”

“Save it,” Dan growls, stalking past Phil towards the kitchen.

He pushes through the door, trying to ignore that his throat feels like he’s swallowed a lump of burning hot coal.

“Dan, I didn’t mean to offend you, I’m sorry!” Phil calls from the café floor. Dan leans his head back against the kitchen door separating them, shutting his eyes. “I don’t know what happened, I just- fuck. Please don’t be annoyed.”

Dan bites down hard on his lip, hating that he can still taste Phil there, all sickly sweet syrup and a rich, malty aftertaste.

“Dan?” Phil calls out again. “Please talk to me.”

There’s a push from the other side of the door, jolting Dan forwards. He moves out of its path, letting Phil swing it open. He stands in the doorway, looking shame-faced.

“It’s fine,” Dan sighs, running a hand through his hair. “That… happened. Let’s just move the fuck on.”

Phil nods, still a little dazed. “Okay.”

Dan nods, brushing past him as he goes to finish closing up the café. Phil just watches him perform the medial little tasks that need doing with a glazed expression, looking like a lost child. Dan is about a hundred percent sure he missed something on his to-do list by the time he gets his jacket, but he can’t be bothered to check. Louise can yell at him, he doesn’t care.

“Come on,” Dan says to Phil, his voice gruff still.

He walks to the door, jingling the keys, and opens it for Phil to step out into the dark street. Dan switches all the lights off without looking back, and follows him outside to lock the doors.

“It’s raining,” Phil says, as if Dan hadn’t noticed the moisture pelting him from above.

“You don’t say,” Dan replies, turning the final lock.

“Can I come over?”

Dan freezes, trying not to react. He turns to Phil slowly, a frown creasing his brow. “Don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Phil cocks his head like a spaniel. “Why?”

Dan purses his lips, looking up at the rainclouds, invisible in the dark. “Several reasons.”

He doesn’t mention that one of them is that he needs some time to privately flip the memory of Phil kissing him over and over in his mad, analytical brain until it’s wrung dry. He can already tell that that moment in time will forever be etched into his brain, just like his hips will always feel the ghost of Phil’s grip, and his lips… well. No other kiss will ever again mean anything, Dan is sure.

“It’s Prom tomorrow,” Phil says, his voice small. Dan rolls his eyes, wondering if Phil really thinks he could have forgotten when it’s literally all they’ve talked about for weeks. “You’re still gonna drive us, right?”

Dan sighs, desperately wishing he had enough spine to refuse right now. “Said I would, didn’t I?”

He stuffs the keys into his pocket, flicks up the hood of his jacket and starts walking down the street. Phil follows at his side, hands stuffed into the pocket of his hoodie. Silvery puffs of air escape from his mouth as he breathes; suddenly, Dan remembers his vice, digging into his back pocket. The packet’s a little damp, but he pulls a cigarette out with his teeth, uncaring.

“I just thought maybe you’d have changed your mind.”

Dan ducks into a doorway, lighting the end of his cigarette. They’re thin and black, these weird cherry flavoured ones, which is undeniably fitting to his aesthetic and mood. “And pass up three bags of Skittles? No way.”

He inhales, then continues walking, Phil still trudging along at his side. “So, I can come over, then?”

Dan rolls his eyes. “You’re literally following me home right now. It’s not like I have much of a choice.”

Phil says nothing, but when Dan sneaks a glance at his expression, misted from the rain, he’s smiling.

---

“Dan?”

The whisper filters through the filmy layer of Dan’s mind, hauling him out of the dream he was about to slip into.

“Dan, are you awake?” Phil’s voice sounds strange.

“Hm,” Dan says, stirring. “I am now.”

He opens his eyes crossly, irritated at being woken from what was sure to be a lovely, long sleep. The first thing he notices, even in the pitch black, is that Phil is very close to him. They’re sharing Dan’s single bed, so obviously their proximity is a little more than normal, but he’s shifted towards Dan’s side significantly.

Dan tries to put some distance back between them, but he’s got the wall behind him. He gives up, mind swirling in an attempt to distract himself from the fact that Phil is wearing his old Muse t-shirt and boxers, and is pressed almost against him, in his bed. Only hours ago, they’d been making out on a table in a closed cafe. Dan no longer feels very sleepy. Phil is staring straight at him, across the pillow. He’s chewing his lip, a worried crease between his brows.

“Wha’s the matter?” Dan asks sleepily. His heart races. “Did you hear Ricky come home?”

Phil shakes his head, and Dan’s lets out a quiet sigh of relief.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Phil says quietly; Dan really wishes he hadn’t said it at all. “The kiss, I mean.”

Dan shrugs a shoulder. “S’okay.”

It isn’t, though. It’s far from okay, it’s made everything a hell of a lot worse, but Phil doesn’t know about Dan’s feelings, so it’s not all his fault. Phil’s hand slides onto his hip. It’s warm, and gripping a little too tightly to be normal. Dan stares at him, entirely lost on what’s happening.

“You smell like cherries again,” Phil tells him, so quiet it’s barely audible. “You taste like cherries, too.”

Dan has no idea what to say, but it turns out he needn’t bother. Phil shifts closer still, that hand on his hip gripping tighter, and then their lips are pressed together. Phil is purposeful, searching, kissing Dan with the same unexpected intensity that he had back in the café. For a fleeting second, Dan is able to hold onto his resistance. He remains rigid, certain that this is a mistake, that Phil is not in his right mind, and that he should not give in to it. But Phil is stubborn, he is patient, and desperate. The hand on his hip feels like a plea, and Dan could never resist Phil’s begging. So he gives in, falls into the welcome warmth of Phil’s wave of wanting. He kisses Phil like he’s starving, not concerned with breaking away this time because he initiated it, there are no ‘kissing lessons’ to disguise it. This is unprecedented, unprovoked, and entirely Phil’s decision.

The hand on Dan’s hip slips round to grab at his bum, mostly to pull their bodies closer together. Dan gasps, allowing his limp, exhausted body to mould itself around Phil’s chest and legs. He imagines the clothes gone, the warm, smooth skin of him beneath, and groans. He winds his hands into Phil’s t-shirt, feeling the heady arousal sweep from his lips, down his chest, and between his legs, leaving a flush in its wake.

Phil’s hand works its way between them, finding the telltale bump of Dan’s erection and pressing against it. Dan gasps, pulling back from the kiss to look into Phil’s eyes. He should say something, make sure Phil is really sure he wants to do this, but the words die with a firm push of Phil’s fingers. He rubs against Dan in soft, gentle movements, still above his boxers. It’s too teasing to be enough, but Dan shuts his eyes anyway, choking back a moan of bliss.

“Do you want me to stop?” Phil asks, his voice quiet and husky.

Dan’s eyes fly open, and he shakes his head. Phil doesn’t seem to need any further confirmation. He dips his hand into the waistband of Dan’s boxers, curling his fingers around the length of him. Dan chokes on something – the air, maybe – thrown by the confidence with which Phil moves considering this is, as far as Dan knows, his first time doing anything like this.

Dan’s never been particularly vocal in bed unless asked, so he just buries his face in Phil’s shoulder, whimpering as Phil’s hand pumps a steady rhythm around him, gradually becoming slicker, messier as the build of his orgasm drags over Dan’s body. Phil’s movements are unpracticed, his hand is at an awkward angle, and he hasn’t even pulled Dan’s boxers down, but somehow it’s beyond incredible.

Dan comes hard, unable to stop himself crying out as Phil sinks his teeth into the exposed skin of his neck, sucking a mark there. He shudders as the pleasure ebbs away, going limp in Phil’s arms. Phil pulls his hand out from Dan’s boxers, wiping it on the Muse logo. A few seconds of stunned silence pass in the wake of what just occurred, and then Dan moves, jumping to attention like a soldier going about his routine. He pushes his lips back into Phil’s, just as hungry as before, and slides a hand down his torso, from collarbone to groin.

Phil catches hold of his wrist.

“Hey, it’s fine,” Phil says hurriedly. Through the Muse t-shirt, Dan can feel his heart pounding.

He stares at Phil, confused. “Let me… help you out.”

Phil smiles at him, though it seems a bit strained. “I’m fine, really. Let’s just go to sleep, yeah?”

Dan scans his face, trying to suss out why on earth somebody would refuse a return offer in this situation, but he comes up short. Hey, maybe Phil is just a little strange. Maybe his first time nerves kicked in a little later than expected.

“Are you sure?” Dan asks. His tongue flicks out to play with his lip ring, flirtatious. “I don’t mind, you know.”

Phil’s gaze hones in on the lip ring, and he swallows thickly. “Y-yeah, really. I’m just tired. Sleep.”

Reluctantly, Dan shuffles down, getting comfy again. It’s difficult, because he’d ideally like a shower right now, preferably one with Phil, but it’s obviously not going to happen, so Dan’s gonna just have to suck it up. But not literally, apparently.

“Okay,” Dan says after some thought. He shuffles closer to Phil, a warm and hopeful glow pulsating in his gut for the first time in years. “Goodnight.”

There’s a long time before Phil replies.

“Night.”

(Chapter Seven!)

[redytofucknow-blog]

A Christmas to Remember

Frank and Olivia had a wonderful marriage. It was so great Olivia decided to share it with Roberto, Sal, and Ox. She wanted dick all the time, and Frank was no match for her sexual needs. So she got what she needed from three men and her husband. Frank was totally unaware of her trysts. Olivia, a raven haired, buxom temptress, had dark brown eyes, dark brown nipples, that seemingly protruded through bras, shirts, even sweaters! She wore yoga pants so tight, you could read her lips, her labia lips, as she did not wear underwear! Men's eyes, and quite a few women's eyes followed her ass like it was magnetic. Her bubble butt, and her very big bust meant she would never ever sleep alone. She was so fine. Frank's job as a Federal Information Technologist sounded better than the reality. He fixed computers for the government, mostly for the FBI and the NSA. He had multiple security clearances, but most of his job was getting rid of porn based viruses, adware and malware. Day in, and day out, people abused the government issued laptops and desktops without remorse! He had to clean it all out. There was a power failure, with no work to do, so he bought some flowers to surprise his lovely wife. He walked in, there she was on top of Ox, a very large black man, she was on all fours, Roberto the Hispanic maintenance guy was in her asshole, and she was being face fucked by Sal, the guy from upstairs. All three guys were married. He got out his phone, this video was going to be needed for his upcoming divorce. The foursome was totally unaware he was even there. He walked around getting better views of his soon to be ex wife's face. He was upset of course, but he was a very methodical man. Pain would come later. So it was a bit of a shock to find his wife fucking three men in their apartment. Frank lost his cool demeanour, told them they had until he loaded the Glock, and then he would use them all as targets. They were all assholes and elbows, getting clothes, and getting out. His beautiful cheating wife was now crying, begging forgiveness, it would never happen again. Of that he was certain, she would be someone else's problem, not his. "Take your worthless scum sucking ass out of here. Get your clothes and leave!" "Where am I supposed to go?" she whined. "Go stay with one of your boyfriends! Oh, wait. Their wives might not take kindly to a slut showing up. Especially one that just fucked her husband. Better go home to mom's house then." "It's ten degrees outside! I'll freeze outside! Please don't throw me out! I'll make it up to you somehow." "Poor planning on your part dosn't constitute an emergency on mine. Get out of here NOW. I can't stand to look at your cheating face. You have pissed me off for the last time. You obviously don't love me. So, get the fuck out. I'll file on Monday, we will be divorced in a couple of months. Get going, you piece of shit!" She whimpered, grabbed a few things and threw them in a carry on bag and out the door she went. He thought, good riddance. But even in the midst of his tirade, he knew she would try to wiggle her way back into his good graces. This time was over the top. She was fucking THREE GUYS for crying out loud! She had been caught before, and promised before, several times. He sent a copy of her coupling to her mom Pamela. Her dad had passed two years ago. Three months ago, her mother Pamela had entered the bathroom while he was peeing and calmly began to clutch and stroke his dick. He was kinda shocked, then turned on, as his mother in law was even more voluptuous than the skank he just threw out. She was on her knees in a heartbeat, sucking his still wet dick for all she was worth. He came in her mouth very quickly, she swallowed it down. She said, "Thank you so much, its been so long since I tasted cum. Thank you, Thank you!" She totally washed his cock in her mouth. She was trying to remove her dress, when he heard his wife on the other side of the door. He kissed his mother in law and said, "Thank You Pam! and walked out. The apple dosen't fall far from tree. The tiny Christmas tree had twinkling lights seemed to be trying to cheer poor Frank up. He was weeping, feeling totally inadequate as far as the female of the species was concerned. He didn't quite understand it. He took good care of her. He made love to her three or four times a week. He always had her come before him. Sometimes he would eat her out for an hour till she got off again and again. Was it his size? He wondered. He was blessed or cursed to have a fairly large penis, very thick and pretty long. She had never complained about it in the seven years they had been together, six as a married couple. Even when she had been caught cheating, she never even mentioned his equipment. He had a theory: She was a slut. In the absence of other evidence, it seemed the most likely theory. She really liked dicks. He thought about her mom. Like mom, like daughter? He would invite her mom over and fuck the shit out of her, and do it in front of the cheating bitch! Evil fantasy #3! The wind was whistling in the front windows. It was cold, even with the heat cranked up. He heard a knock at the door. He opened it to a pair of smurfs. Two women who lived next door were on his doorstep. They were freezing. They really did look almost blue though. Sharon, a buxom blonde lesbian, said,"Wwwwee hhhhaaattte tutto bbboother yyyooou. Ooourrr hhheeat iiiss oouuttt, can wwwee wwwarrm pull hherre fffoorrr a mmmiinnutte ppplleeassse?" He ushered them in. They had on winter coats, and blankets. "Come on in here. For crying out loud, it's Christmas! How about some hot chocolate? Have you two eaten? Ill whip something up for you sit down, get warm." He rubbed their shoulders, Sharon and Liz both.They felt so cold. He got hot chocolate for each of them and made some Chinese vegetables and sauteed chicken pieces. He served it hot. They acted like it was their first food in week! "Frank, you are the nicest guy we know. If I was interested in men, you would be on my list! Except of course that you're married." "Not anymore. I caught her again, this time with three guys at the same time! I gave her the boot. Sent her to her mom's house. I'm filing for divorce on Monday. That is it. I'm done!" He was very close to tears. "Frank, why aren't you eating too? We didn't just eat your dinner did we?" Sharon asked. Some color was back in her cheeks. She was very attractive with full red lips, high cheekbones and wonderful eyes, not to mention her curvy, heavenly body. "It's ok, my guests always come before I do," he said. Liz hugged him. She wasn't quite as buxom, but she was very ravishing nonetheless. She had jet black hair, and flawless olive toned skin. She had hypnotic green eyes that sparkled in the light. Her breasts while not the football size of her partner were still at least a D cup. She had big, thick nipples, that currently were hard as diamonds. They poked through her bra and her knit shirt! "Frank, thank you so much for taking us into your home. If there is ever anything we can do to help you, just name it. I think your wife was very stupid, cheating on a wonderful man like you. I mean, I'm not interested in men. But if I was, you would be high on my list. Why on earth? What got into her?" Liz opined. "Oh I saw with my own eyes what got into her. Thing is, their equipment didn't look any better than mine. I wish you guys could tell me what's wrong with me. I feel completely emasculated by this whole thing. I wasn't enough for her." Sharon keeled down in front of frank and quick as a wink, had his zipper down and his dick out. She was examining it closely. It throbbed in her fingers. "I've only ever seen three cocks up close before, my dad's, my brother's and my only boyfriend's. This one looks way different." "What's the matter with it?" "It's HUGE. Its at least twice as big as the cocks I've seen. I think its nice, but a little scary." "Why scary?" Frank asked. "Men turn into animals when they get excited. You could rape and pillage me with this thing. Ohmygod its getting BIGGER! And harder too!" Frank laughed. "First off, you are watching way too much porn. I'd say 80 to 90 percent of porn is male fantasy; not reality. When you make love, it's all about the other person, not raping and pillaging. I'm not even sure what that is. Are you trying to make me cum?" "May I please suck it? It ... It's like magnetic. I want to put it in my mouth. Please? I don't get to see any dicks being a dyke." "Why would you call yourself that? Isn't that a nasty term. And sure, you can put it in your mouth, don't chew on it, just suck it gently. I am actually close to cumming, so you probably don't want it in your mouth when I cum." "I want to look! I've never held a big dick like this. C'mon. Gimme" Liz seemed excited. She took over stroking, but Sharon still had her hand on the bottom of Frank's dick." "I'm gonna cum!"Frank said. Sharon put the head into her mouth, but you could see the ropes of cum shooting into her mouth. Liz watched in fascinated wonder. "Sharon, don't swallow the jism. I want to taste it!" Liz was adventurous today. Sharon kissed her and they traded his semen. It was so incredibly hot he was hard again in no time. "Holy shit, your hard already!" "It sorta has a mind of it's own." Liz said, "Kinda salty and tangy, but not as bad as I thought. I like it." Sharon looked at Liz. "I want to fuck him. Please?" "NO... Not unless he can fuck us BOTH! I have never had a dick either. It's only fair! "Can you fuck both of us? Can we both cum? TOGETHER?" "Sometimes, it's very tough to get the timing so that two people cum at the same time. But I can fuck you two together!" "What about birth control? You want me to get some condoms?" he asked "We're both on the pill, but for different reasons, but we're good. You could cum in my mouth again. I liked it" Sharon smacked her lips." "First man we share, and you want to eat all the cum. You cum glutton! Gotta share. I get the next load!" Liz did seem to like cum. "How do we start?" "Let's go in the bedroom and get naked and I'll show you." They weren't there two seconds and Liz was bareass naked. Sharon let Frank take off her things slowly, one button at a time. Liz was having none of that. She had the head of Frank's dick in her mouth. She bobbed her head. Frank had Sharon stand up. He started to tongue her cleft. He licked from her asshole to her landing strip. Liz was shaved bare. Her vulva was completely drenched. "Frank I know you're big on long foreplay, but I'm ready to get laid. Can I just jump on your dick PLEASE?!" "If this is your first time, there might some pain involved. Are you ready? If it hurts too much, just tell me" She guided his dick to her labia. She was very wet. Two seconds later, Liz was no longer a virgin. "Oh this feels nice. I've never been so... full. She started to rocking and pumping. In a few minutes as Frank was concentrating on Sharon's pussy, Liz had a big orgasm. She wailed long and loud. It was so delicious and fun! She didn't want to get off Frank's dick. "Who's being the cock glutton now?" Jibed Sharon. The girls switched ends. Frank was having a great time. Sharon was trying to get his big dick in her. She was having problems. So frank switched positions so he could better penetrate her. They were in a sorta missionary position, with her legs held up on his shoulders, high up. He said, "Are you ready?" She nodded and Frank pushed inside her. She screamed, frank was so concerned he stopped. "Don't you dare stop! I just had a wonderful orgasm. My first with a man, ever! Oh frank you are so fuckin good. I know we're just a couple of crazy dykes, but you have made me feel so special. Oh my God I'm gonna... COME AGAIN! UHH! UGH OH FUCK YES. BANG ME FRANK! OOOHHHH FUCK ME GOOD! AAEEEIIIAAHH! WOW!" Frank came as she did. Liz was watching closely, she saw her partner squirt her womanly juices all over the place. "Frank, can you make me squirt too?" "Honey, not all women squirt. Some do, some don't. Not every time either! We'll just have to keep fuckin you until it happens! Practice makes perfect." They all smiled. The bedroom was bathed in the flickering light from the fake electric fireplace. All three laid back in bed. Frank in the middle Sharon on his left, head on his shoulder, Liz on his right, head on his chest. Both girls had a hand on his dick, but he was big enough for that. There was a knock on the front door, then the door opened and closed. Dread was upon Frank as he imagined the fight he was about to have. "Frank, where are you?"a woman's voice, he thought it must be his wife. "There you are Frank, why don't you answer your phone. Why do you have the lesbians in bed with you? Hi Sharon, Hi Liz." It was Pamela, his voluptuous mother in law. "Hello Pamela," he said, "The girls are here because their apartment is like the artic. But while they were here, they took it upon themselves to help me with my depression. They tried to fuck the memory of Olivia out of me. What brings you here, my sexy mother in law?" "I came here to fuck you." "What?" "You heard me. I came here to fuck the shit out of you. A very Merry Christmas fuck. I've wanted you for so long. Every time my dumb slut daughter gets caught cheating, I think, I'll get to be with him this time. I'll finally confess my feelings for him. But every time, like clockwork, she wiggled and worms her way back into your heart. How many times has my daughter fucked someone behind your back? So I'm on a timetable. I figure I have three days before the big softheart takes her back. I'm going to try to convince him otherwise." "Yeah, I'm just an asshole I guess. I keep hoping she will change, this will be the last time she does this. I guess she will NEVER change. I feel so defeated. She dosen't really love me like she should. Or she lets her pussy do the thinking for her. Either way it sucks to be me. Why are you here now though. You really want to fuck me?" "Men are so fuckin dense." She took off her coat, she was naked underneath. She had huge tits, at least 48 DDD or EE. Her nipples were hard as rock and big as Frank's little finger, at least an inch long, and thick. Her areolas were a good four inches wide and puffy from excitement. Her labia was clean shaved and dripping, she was raring to go. She ripped the blanket from them and jumped up on Frank's legs. "Sorry girls, I'm determined to fuck this wonderful man. He makes me so hot just from him looking at me! Frank PLEASE! Take pity on this old broad. Give it to me, I beg of you!" She climbed up over his now very hard dick, and she aimed it for her cunt. She couldn't get it all in at once, but little by little as she stroked and pushed, she stretched out her vaginal walls to accommodate his manhood. For his part, he was twisting and tweaking her nipples as she purred. "Ohmygod Frank, you feel so much better than my fantasy. I've wanted you for seven years. Seven long, fuckin years! You feel wonderful in my snatch, Ohmygod here it comes, I'm... I'm... Gonna COME HARD, really HARD! Yes, Yes, Fuck YES, I'm coming! I'm COMING! Frank I love you. Uhh. Ugh. Uhhhh. Oh aahhh!" She GUSHED, not squirted. She exploded into multiple orgasms. It was the single best sex she had ever had. She collapsed on Frank's chest. The four of them spooned all night, with Frank's front being the sought after real estate. He did get some sleep. But the girls were all over him. He had to admit, they made him feel a lot better. Christmas morning, they were around the tree. He gave the presents he was going to give his wife, well now, forget it. He gave his mother in law a corselet in black leather and lace, and it fit her well. He gave Liz a quarter cup bra, and matching silk panties in white. Sharon got the black brocade one piece, with the trap door bottom. It fit ok. There was a knock on the door. Frank did not dread it this time as he had his shock troops. The key turned in the lock, and there stood his stunning shapely sister in law Beverley. She had just turned twenty. She walked in, in her winter coat and said, "Frank I heard what my stupid ass sister did. Three guys?! How could she do that to you. I'm here because I have a confession to make." She took off her coat and she was naked. Frank sighed, it was the best of times, it was the worst of times. This would definitely be a Christmas to remember.

check out more here http://kayleighrees23.5gbfree.com/catchme

[lunapaper]

Album Review - 'CRASH' - Charli XCX

All Charli wanted to do was to be a popstar...

But stan culture, of course, had to go and spoil the fun.

Underwhelmed by her ‘sellout’ era, Charli’s ‘angels’ expressed their displeasure at just about every aspect of her latest project, from songs choices to even the choreography.

The criticism eventually began weighing on the British singer’s mind, even lashing out at one fan on Twitter, who she mistakenly believed called her old: ‘If u wanna throw around midlife crisis fucking throw it at me [...] I’m getting older, I’m getting hotter, my tits are stunning, I’m in great shape, I’m dancing, I’m progressing and I’m living my best life – and that the tea.’ She also snapped back in another, now-deleted tweet: ‘Bitch BYE. I will NEVER understand what possesses people to be such C*NTS online.’

CRASH isn’t a bad album, per se. For her final album as part of her contract with Atlantic Records, Charli goes all out and shamelessly gives in to her baser pop instincts.

The title track is glassy and effervescent. First single ��Good Ones’ is throbbing disco pop tailored for a debauched rave, given a nice, thicc coat of gloss courtesy of Max Martin. The beat is rather reminiscent of Eurhythmics’ ‘Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This),’ with just a dash of Billie’s ‘Bad Guy,’ but whatever...

‘New Shapes’ (featuring Caroline Polachek and Christine and the Queens) is all brassy synthesisers and flashy 80s synths, streaking tears across a sparkling neon dancefloor. ‘Constant Repeat’ deserves that exact treatment, recalling the sparse, celestial atmospheres of Charli's 2020 lockdown album, how I'm feeling now.

‘Move Me’ has a smoky allure with its brooding, ‘We Need a Resolution’-esque beat, the singer admitting ‘I got a habit for destruction/Take all of your trust and then betray it like it's nothing.’ ‘Yuck’ gives disgust a dynamic, bass-fuelled groove straight out of the halcyon days of 90s pop, Charli unmoved by romantic schmaltz (‘Yuck, lookin' at me all sucky/Yuck, quit acting like a puppy/Fuck, going all lovey-dovey on me’).

On ‘Baby,’ meanwhile, she’s promising to fuck you up. The track has received rather mixed responses from fans and critics, but I love it – it's about time Charli got funky. Influenced by the likes of Janet Jackson and Prince, it’s a certified ‘sex anthem,’ a fun, flirtatious and deliciously bawdy cut of glittering 80s funk, along with hints of city pop and RnB. Why the stans don’t dig this one is a mystery – that's basically all the ingredients you need for a killer Charli track.

But although Charli calls CRASH her most ‘cohesive and consistent’ album, it’s actually quite an uneven record.

In fact, there’s a lot of wasted potential. The singer leans far too much on repetition and cliché, with ‘Lightning’ and the title track among the worst offenders. Other tracks go nowhere or end far too soon – a common complaint among fans. But every Charli album is, admittedly, quite patchy. For every ‘1999’ and ‘Unlock It’ and ‘Gone,’ there’s a ‘White Mercedes’ and ‘Blame It on Your Love.’

‘Used to Know Me’ rips its melody straight from Disclosure’s best track, ‘White Noise,’ but still can’t compete. ‘Every Rule’ proves once again that ballads are not Charli’s strong suit, even though she’s managed to pull off heartfelt emotion before on tracks like ‘Boom Clap’ and ‘Gone.’

Recent single ‘Beg For You’ (ft. Rina Sawayama) is uncharacteristically subdued and kind of dull. You’d expect something much bolder and more explosive from two of pop’s most exciting provocateurs. A track by Charli and Rina should be goddamn electric.

Instead, we get a half-arsed sample of September’s 2006 club hit ‘Cry For You’ (which I’d never even heard of before this). What’s supposed to be filled with yearning comes off a little desperate (‘You know I go insane every time you have to catch a flight/Well, can I take you to the airport?/Make out under the bathroom lights’). I’m sure they’ve both suffered their fair share of heartbreak in the past, but they’re Charli and Rina – why do they need to beg for anybody’s love?

CRASH is meant to define Charli’s ‘sellout’ era, her long-awaited freedom from major label tyranny, but the album doesn’t seem to make any clear statements or have any overarching themes. It just... is? The whole rollout has been pretty hit and miss: five of the album’s 12 tracks were released before it even came out, accompanied by videos inspired by wildly different concepts. ‘Good Ones’ saw ‘pop figurehead’ Charli sexy-dancing at an ex-lover's funeral, but her ‘sellout’ schtick is totally forgotten by the time we reach the clip for ‘Beg For You.’ Throughout, she just looks bored.

If you’re going into this record expecting some winking, Electra Heart-style commentary on pop culture or the industry as a whole – and this would’ve been the perfect time to do so – this isn’t it. Charli is more than capable of pulling it off, but CRASH just feels so damn lazy and generic, even by mainstream pop standards.

The strange sense of entitlement that permeates throughout stan culture is disturbing – the bigger the fan, the more ownership you believe you should have over an artist’s work. Artists don’t really owe us anything, nor should they indulge our every whim. A healthy amount of distance should also be place between artists and fans in order to preserve some sanity.

However, for someone as forward-thinking and avant-garde as Charli, who prides herself on being provocative, she sure is thin-skinned. Her defensiveness and constant assurances only seem to further confirm her lack of confidence in CRASH.

And therein lies the question: Is Charli subverting expectations by releasing a more conventional album or is she just taking the easy way out? It is the end of her contract, after, all, so why not just phone it in?

Or maybe it was just time for Charli to crash, especially after churning out almost a decade’s worth of stellar work, even defining a whole new genre with hyperpop. But now that she’s finally free from the clutches of Atlantic, she’ll hopefully bounce back more creatively reinvigorated than ever...

- Bianca B.

[xx-multi-fandom-fics]

The New Kid Part One

Fandom: The Outsiders and Heathers (Crossover)

Pairing: Sodapop x Reader

Summary: Sodapop is a new student to Westerberg High the same year as JD is. The reader is in the same group as the Heathers and Veronica. While Veronica falls for JD, the Heathers are busy flirting with Sodapop. However, Sodapop takes a liking to you instead.

Word Count: 2,741

Warnings: Language

A.N: This was written for @meganlpie‘s Musical AU Writing Challenge.

Another year of torture you thought as you walked through the smelly, loud, and crowded halls of Westerberg High School in Sherwood, Ohio. At least it’s my last year. After three years of high school, there’s pretty much nothing that I haven’t seen. You were wrong. You looked around the busy hallway and saw two of your friends, Heather McNamara and Heather Duke rushing towards you. Even though they had seen you yesterday, they looked as if it were the first time seeing you since junior year ended.

“I heard there’s two new boys this year. And they’re in our grade!” Heather McNamara cheered.

“How very,” you said grinning at both of the Heathers.

“I hope at least one of them is cute. I’m tired of all these nerds. Besides, I’ve already dated all of the cute guys that go to Westerberg High,” Heather Duke sighed and rolled her eyes. You and Heather McNamara shared a glance and began laughing.

As you continued walking to the cafeteria, you ran into Heather Chandler and Veronica who were once again arguing. Veronica was the one who had gotten you into this group, so you were hoping that she wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize her spot or yours.

You had begged her all summer about getting you included in the group. It took about a month, but finally she called you and said you were in. You didn’t want to ask what she had to do to get you in. All that mattered was you were finally in.

Once you met the Heathers, you seemed to get along pretty well and grew close quickly. All except Heather Chandler. You faked your kindness to her. In your opinion, she was too bossy, and you weren’t going to suck up to someone a year below you. You were kind enough to stay in the group, but you would still argue with her if you didn’t agree with her.

You could tell the fight was escalating by the way they began waving their arms more violently and raised their voices, trying to be louder than the other. You quickly leapt into action before anything more could happen. You stepped in between them right as Heather began to lurch towards Veronica.

“Hey. Why don’t we go to lunch and maybe discuss it calmly while eating?” you offered.

“Okay. Fine,” Veronica said, not taking her eyes off of Heather.

“I’m done with her and this entire dumb discussion anyways. Let’s just leave it with me being right,” Heather Chandler declared. Veronica stayed silent, not wanting the fight to get physical. Heather Chandler strutted off and you, Veronica, Heather, and Heather followed her.

As you entered the cafeteria, the disgusting smell of everyone’s lunch mingled together and met your nose. You scrunched up your nose to show your disgust.

“One thing I’m not going to miss when I go to college is the smell of this cafeteria,” Veronica complained while subtly trying to hold her breath.

Once you all sat down, Heather McNamara told Heather and Veronica about the two new guys. Everyone at the table was glancing about trying to find the newbies in the sea of kids.

“Found one,” Veronica murmured staring at a guy with black hair, somewhat tan skin, and candy apple green eyes. He was wearing a black trenchcoat, even though it was at least 80 degrees out. Beneath that, he was wearing a green plaid shirt that was buttoned up and matched the color of his eyes.

“God Veronica, drool much?” Heather McNamara teased. You laughed knowing that Veronica clearly liked this guy by the way she gawked at him with a lovesick smile.

“I am not drooling!” Veronica growled turning her attention back to you guys. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve, just in case. Everyone sitting at your table saw and began laughing.

“Well, don’t worry. You can have him,” Duke said still looking around with a frown hoping that the other new guy was more her type. Heather and Heather nodded in agreement.

“Go for it!” you urged.

Veronica laughed at your excitement for her, got up, and began walking over towards the table where the mysterious new kid sat at.

“His name is Jason Dean! He’s in my algebra class! You got this!” you yelled at Veronica. She turned around blushing and glared at you for you had yelled it loud enough for everyone in the cafeteria to hear.

“Now where’s the other potential hottie,” Chandler queried, moving on from anything that didn’t have to do with her.

“Oh my god,” Duke mused. “There he is.” She pointed towards a guy that looked too hot to live in a little town like Sherwood, Ohio.

“He should be a movie star! He’s so fucking perfect,” McNamara said softly, and her jaw slightly dropped.

You looked over in his direction upon hearing this. Heather is right. He is perfect. His beautiful golden hair looked as if it had been kissed by the sun. It laid just the right way to frame his face alluringly. You suspected his jawline was so sharp that it could cut a diamond. His gorgeous green eyes sparkled as he smiled showing his straight pearly white teeth. Once you came back to reality, you realized what he smiling at. You. He was looking directly at you and smiling his perfect smile at you. You looked down as your cheeks turned a dark rose color. You smiled and bit your lip flirtatiously, not knowing if he could see it while your head was down.

“Oh my god! He’s looking over here!” Duke squealed. “I think he was looking at me! I’m going to go talk to him!”

“Shut up, Heather! Get crucial, he’s looking at me. Therefore, he’s mine,” Chandler glared coldly at Duke. “So don’t embarrass yourself by trying to make a move on him.”

He began to walk over to your table. You gave up all hope of ever dating him. If Heather Chandler wanted something, she always got it. No matter what she had to do to get it. If you wanted to stay in this group, you’d just have to spend another year-- no-- your final year of highschool, pining after someone who you knew you could never have. You looked over at Veronica. She was sitting besides Jason Dean, and they were both laughing as if they had heard the funniest joke. At least one of us can be happy.

“Hey,” Heather Chandler said flirtatiously as the new guy reached your table. “What’s your name?”

“Sodapop,” he smiled at you. “What’s your name, Beautiful?” As he said this, he leaned towards you placing his right hand on the table for support.

Heather Chandler’s face turned furious, but she quickly hid it realizing that she would just have to win him over.

“I’m Y/N. This is Heather, Heather, and Heather,” you explained motioning to each of them.

“The Heathers. I’ve heard about you guys,” Sodapop said starting to sound slightly uneasy. He straightened up and took his hand off of the table. “Well, it was nice to meet all of you.”

He handed you a tiny piece of notebook paper. “It’s my number. Call me.” He winked at you and slightly backed away, making like he was about to leave. However, he stood still where he was and waited to hear your response.

“Okay!” you giggled. Heat rose to your cheeks as you realized how uncool you were being.

“That bitch!” Heather Chandler murmured quietly.

“Great,” Sodapop said. It didn’t seem like he heard what Heather had said. “I have to jam, but hopefully I’ll see you later.” He winked at you and left your table to go sit with some moderately popular kids.

Heather Chandler glared at you, then at Sodapop’s back, then back to you. You could see the fire in her eyes and saw how her teeth were gritted. You knew you were in for it.

“How juiced are you?! The only reason you’re in this group is because your lame ass friend begged for you to be able to join!” As she said “lame ass friend” she motioned towards Veronica. “You either let me have him or you’re out!”

Getting into this group had been the best thing that had happened in your entire high school experience. But was it worth it?

“I won’t make a move on him, but it’s not my fault if he doesn’t like you,” you said slyly.

“That’s it! You’re done for! I don’t care if Veronica stops forging us hall passes! It’s not worth it! Get out of here, Loser!” she screamed standing up from her seat and getting in your face.

You quickly got out of your chair and began to head out of the cafeteria, tears threatening your eyes. The people who sat near you turned and stared as you walked out. You scanned over them, refusing to make eye contact, to make sure that Sodapop was not one of the people who was looking at you. You couldn’t let him see you crying. Not on the first day you had met. As you saw more and more people looking, you felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you. As your cheeks reddened, you wiped the tears, cleared your throat and quickened your pace as you pushed open the cafeteria doors with all of your might.

As you turned the corner, the bell rang. You rushed to the girls bathroom, because you didn’t want anyone to see you cry. You threw open the bathroom door and checked under each of the stall doors to make sure no one else was in there. Since you didn’t see anyone, you went over to the corner near the sink and sunk down while grabbing your hair and heavily sobbing. Great start to the year! Now no one was going to want to hang out with you, Heather was going to end up getting Sodapop, and Veronica wouldn’t want to leave the popular group for you. She had left others behind, and now those unpopular kids whose feelings you had never thought about were you. Karma is a bitch… You hugged your knees to your body as the cold from the tile penetrated through your jacket. The tears continued to flow from your eyes. You were all alone. In high school, being alone feels like one of the worst things possible. You continued to sob, not caring if you were missing class. This year was suppose to be the best year of high school. Now it’s going to be the worst year of my life. You had already begun planning your speech to your parents as to why they should let you enroll in online classes. Of course you wouldn’t say the real reason was because you had fucked up your one chance at being popular and were now the least popular person all in one day. Not even that, maybe 30 minutes.

After you planned out your reasoning, you turned your attention to the tile wall. You would rather focus on anything but the situation you were in. The tile itself was a light cream color. The tiles were glossy and cold to the touch. You had gotten hot because of how worked up you were. You took off your jacket and pushed your body against the chilling tile seeking relief. Your fingers traced the lines of the gravely grout in between the tiles. The pattern you created by tracing one tile and then another memorized you.

After a while, you had stopped crying. There was still a ball of nausea in your stomach, but you figured that wasn’t going to leave anytime soon. You put on your jacket. The soft fabric inside the jacket made you feel more comfortable and calm. You stood up and walked over to the sink closest to your corner. You grabbed onto the cold porcelain and stared into the mirror. Your mascara had left your eyelashes and was now on your cheeks where the tears had fallen. Your eyes were red and puffy. As you looked closer, you even saw little purple dots on your forehead. God. I look awful!

You sloppily wiped off the streaks. However, you couldn’t get all of the mascara off, so you left it alone, hoping that you wouldn’t run into anyone as you waited for this horrible school day to end. You also fixed your hair to where it covered more of your face. Despite your efforts, you knew if someone were to see you, they’d know that you were crying.

You finally left the bathroom after realizing that someone was going to come in there at some point. You didn’t want anyone to see you like this. Not any of the Heathers. Not Martha. Not even Veronica. You were just roaming around the hallways with your head down, trying to calm down, counting the tiles, when you ran into someone.

“Oh shit. Sorry,” you murmured. You didn’t look up to see who it was, because you didn’t want them to see you in this state. A warm hand gently grabbed your arm as you tried to pass.

“Hey, Y/N! What are you doing in the hallway?”

You looked up to see the familiar handsome face.

“Hey Sodapop,” you murmured. “I was just heading back to class.”

He noticed your partially wiped mascara streaks, your puffy red eyes, and he even saw the little purple dots on your forehead.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as his eyes scanned over your face. His face etched with concern.

“Nothing. Just typical teenage girl issues,” you laughed trying to trick him into thinking you were okay, so you could be left to be alone, like you were destined to be.

“It’s not nothing.”

“You don’t even know me!” you spat. “How would you know if what I cried over is nothing or not?! Maybe I’m just extremely emotional!”

“Well, first of all, no one gets defensive over nothing. Second of all, no one cries so hard that they look like that over nothing,” Sodapop joked.

“Not funny,” you muttered lowering your head.

“Okay. Fine. Sorry. You’re right. I don’t know you.” He gently placed his fingers under your chin and raised your head making you look him in his dumb beautiful eyes. Once your eyes met, he smiled softly. “Don’t be embarrassed. You’re beautiful no matter what. Let’s get out of here and get to know each other. You can tell me what’s wrong, and you can find out why I moved to a new school district senior year.”

“There’s no way we can just ditch. There’s an admin who has an office right by the entrance doors.”

“I know, but she’s fast asleep. I guess she didn’t get enough sleep last night. She must’ve gotten use to sleeping in over the summer. I went to go ask for directions to the guidance counselor’s office, and she didn’t even stir when I asked,” he said holding up the hall pass.

“It’s the first day!”

“Exactly, it’s the first day. Besides, you already ditched one class. Also, it’s not like we’re doing anything important.”

As you two reached the doors to leave this hell hole, Sodapop grabbed your hand. Your fingers intertwined perfectly. You quietly rushed through the doors.

“That one’s mine.” Sodapop pointed towards a ‘58 red Plymouth Fury once you had gotten outside.

“No way!” you mused. “That is not yours!”

“Yes, it is!” Sodapop laughed at your expression. “My dad and I fixed it up before he died.”

“I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’ll tell you about it once you explain why you were crying.”

“Fine. But first take me away from here,” you pleaded.

You both got in the car. The inside looked as amazing as the outside did. The white and red leather seats matched perfectly with the red exterior. There wasn’t a speck of dirt in the car. Somehow, it even smelled like a new car.

“So, where do you want to go?” Sodapop asked after you had stopped freaking out about his car.

“Anywhere but here.”

“I know the perfect spot,” Sodapop grinned. He revved his engine, and then sped out of the parking lot. You rolled down the window. As the cool wind blew on your face, you felt your worries start to leave. Maybe everything will be okay. Maybe Sodapop is all you need.

Thank you so much for reading! Please like/reblog. Requests are open.

[manawhaat]

Knight In Dark Flannel

Title: Knight In Dark Flannel

Characters: Claire x Dean, Sam, Mick, brief mentions of Cas. 

Summary: Dean can’t shake the anxiety, the thoughts of how this all could have been so much worse. Claire is in the same boat, and the two of them turn to each other for relief. 

Warnings: Spn s12 spoilers, slightly angsty feels, slight anxiety, smut of all kinds (Including unprotected. Don’t follow my bad example, wrap it up, kids.), virgin!Claire (mostly virgin), Sam hoarding stealing free food for Dean because they’re fucking adorable little vulture babies. 

Word Count: 5k

A/n: HUGE HUGE HUGE thank you to @mrswhozeewhatsis​ for being brilliant, thorough, and fucking wonderful as fuck, and to both her and @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid​ for taking the time to beta this fic. I also used the whole italic thing in this fic more than I think I ever have, so there’s that, and it’s also present tense, which was a bitch for my past tense self to write. 

** It’s set during 12x16 Ladies Drink Free, so if you’re not up to date, be warned that there will be spoilers. And if you aren’t into Claire and Dean fucking and you’re already all judgy, just scroll past this and don’t wast your (or my) time reading something you’re going to hate. If you do read this, thank you! (And let me know what you think <3) **

Dean had a daughter... at one point… she’s dead, now, but he is, technically, a father- a protector- and always has been, even before the age of six. He started with Sam, and the instinct to watch out for others has followed him through his life from person to person, never really giving him a choice in the matter when the flight or fight moments arise. Sure, he’s a rambler, but he never puts himself before anyone else, especially not anyone whom he’s come to love.

Silence surrounds the four as Baby holds Mick, Claire, and the Winchesters safe. It’s been one hell of a night and Dean’s eyes keep shooting back to where Sam and Claire are sitting in the back seat. At that douchewad werewolf’s house, she’d been able to take advantage of his running water and clean her up enough to not look conspicuous when they reach the hotel. As Dean keeps glancing back, she looks fine, normal, even, but that doesn’t change any of what he’s seen her go through tonight, or the concern he feels for her well being that he just can’t shake. It’s an itch under his skin that he just can’t scratch and it’s making him antsy. When the Impala is driven off by some young valet, Claire finally risks a look at Dean.

‘Poor, bastard,’ she thinks to herself, watching him try to shake off what she can only assume is agitation. She’s come to care way too much about him for her own damn good. Little does she know, he feels the same way about her.

“We’ll be adding a room for the young Miss, tonight,” Mick says kindly to the man at the front desk, and it’s his voice, so fucking British and out of place, that snaps her out of her daze.  

“Oh, I don’t need a whole extra room,” Claire interrupts in a rush, her voice effectively stopping the men and demanding their attention. “It might be nice to not be alone tonight.” She ignores the question in the back of her mind of why she doesn’t want to be alone. It’s because it’s been a long day and she was a werewolf for most of it, not because Dean’s still got that nervous, over-caffeinated look about him.

“You can bunk with me,” Sam smiles down at her.

God, Sam’s nice, but he’s not the kind of comfort she wants tonight. She wants quiet understanding and dumb jokes, not overly perceptive prodding and polite distance. “And have you steal all the conditioner? Sorry, Fabio,” Claire laughs a little, shifting her gaze between the brothers. “I can just crash on Dean’s couch. You said they were suites, right?”

As the words leave her mouth, Sam and Dean’s expressions are identical. The looks on their faces say, ‘What the fuck?’, but their parted mouths remain silent. Unphased by the request, Mick shoots Claire a curt smile and makes for the elevator, the two gawking men left behind when Claire rolls her eyes and follows after the Brit. A quiet thank you falls from her lips and Mick simply nods before entering his room, Sam smiling wide when she turns and thanks him, the two wrapping each other in their arms before Dean’s key card is snatched from his mildly shaky hands.

Alone in his room, Dean watches as Claire kicks around a bit before falling onto his bed with a dramatic huff. He’s not sure what her deal is, but he’s not letting it phase him; instead, he’s getting comfortable, taking off his 80 fucking layers and is down to his jeans and tee, bare feet on the hardwood that just feels so different from the shaggy, stained carpet in his usual kind of joint. The itch under his skin is ramped up, now, even though she’s safe in the same room, and he fumbles with his bag while he questions it. The whole time he’s been trying to avoid her, give her some space to think or whatever-the-fuck while he mills around the room, but when he turns and sees her sitting there with what look like tears in her eyes, he takes a step toward her. She’s usually so feisty, so hardened and filled with the same sass and sarcasm he holds, but here in this quiet room, after all that’s happened, she’s shooting up and pushing herself into his chest, holding onto him and burying her face in his shoulder when he wraps his arms around her and smooths his hands over her back.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay, Claire. You’re okay. I got you. You’re safe,” Dean coos, thoughts running wild and worrying between every worst case scenario that’s crossed his mind about her in the last 24 hours. As he holds her, his brow furrows while his hands try to reassure him that she’s there, she’s whole, she’s human, she’s safe, she’s okay.

After what feels like hours, but was probably only seconds, she finally loosens her hold on him. It’s quiet, but she thanks him ‘for everything’ with a shy smile, and he simply nods before letting her go, grabbing his sweatpants, and heading into the bathroom. When he comes out, Claire’s changed, sitting at the edge of the king sized bed in a black tank and grey boxers. For a number of reasons, he winces before he decides he doesn’t even want to know where, or who, those came from. ‘Some dude’ would be her answer if he asked, though, Target would be the truth. For Dean, thinking about the boxers is safer than thinking about the thin, skimpy tank top, or how this is most he’s ever seen of Claire, well, ever.

The air is thicker, laced with tension that she’s radiating, so Dean shakes off his own thoughts, leans against the edge of the desk, and stares her down the way only Dean Winchester can. Claire’s looking at her hands, her feet, the door, anything but his green eyes, and she’s shifting as if she’s avoiding saying something.

“Are....are you gonna tell Cas?” she finally asks, her voice quiet and wavering like the remorseful child she’d swear she isn’t, and Dean smiles a bit.

“Probably.” He shrugs his shoulders and sniffs, putting on his best “disapproving authority figure” face.

“He’s not my dad, ya know,” she huffs, the look on her face telling him that she doesn’t want Cas worrying about her, hidden beneath a layer of lingering teenage rebellion, of course.

“I know,” he nods.

“Neither are you, Dean,” she says, voice laced with something. For his own sanity, Dean tries to ignore that something. She’s so young; too young, for that. Isn’t she?

“Doesn’t mean I don’t care,” he shrugs. “Doesn’t mean that this-” he gestures to her, between them- “whole thing, you hunting, everything that happened tonight…” Dean takes a long breath and lets his eyes fall closed before steeling himself and meeting her gaze. “Doesn’t mean that you don’t scare the shit outta me.”

“Teenage girl scaring the shit out of Dean Winchester?” Claire’s eyes sparkle as she laughs in spite of herself. She’s trying to keep up her facade, but Dean sees right through it.

“Yeah, Claire, you scare the shit out of me.” The weight of his words make her stiffen just a bit as Dean’s body pushes off the desk he’s leaning against. “Just like Sam does. Just like Cas does. Just like- like my mom, and-and Jody, and everyone else in my life that I can’t lose,” he explains, almost rambling. “You’re part of that. You-” he breaks mid-word to scrub a hand over his face, stepping closer and pacing a little right in front of her, trying to release a little of the anxiety that still clings to him from the events of the day.

Claire pushes herself to her feet and is reaching out for him, saying, “Hey, in case you didn’t notice, you didn’t lose me. I’m still here, old man,” and smiling softly when he stops and stares down at her. His eyes pin her in place, and she cranes her neck to hold his gaze. He’s so tall; she often forgets how big Dean is. 

“Damn right you are,” he sighs in relief, reaching out and cupping her face, laying a long kiss to her temple and wrapping his arms around as much of her as he can, holding her close.

Dean’s fingers get lost in her blonde hair, and her hands come up to hold onto his arms, feeling his thick muscles tense when he pulls back and catches those blue eyes of hers. There’s a moment of fear that passes through them both, thoughts of what could have happened, of how much agony she’d been in. Dean’s reliving it all, having to stop his brain from going back to that time when he had to step outside because he couldn’t handle seeing her in so much pain. When he stood outside, still able to hear her screams and grunts while tears threatened to overwhelm him at the thought of her dying so painfully. What would he tell Jody? What would he tell Cas? What would he tell himself when he looked in the mirror? Claire marvels at how revealing Dean’s eyes are, no less revealing than a movie screen with the events of the day playing right there in front of her. She squeezes his arms and he’s back, seeing her in front of him, whole and safe. Then, his lips are on her face once more; pressing across her cheek, over her nose and forehead, and with an acutely and decidedly conscious slant of her head, her lips are pressing against his. He tries to pull back, thinking it’s some kind of mistake, but her mouth follows his, keeping their lips to one another’s; soft, closed, until she parts her lips and lets his notch into hers.

It’s new. Odd. Wrong? But it feels so right. They have so much chemistry, so much likeness in them that when she stands on her tiptoes and presses her lips closer to his, Dean lets it happen instead of pulling away like that voice in his head tells him he should. In that moment, he is lost, and not sure he ever wants to be found.

The kiss is long, slow, with just a little push and pull and the faintest whimpers Dean’s ever heard being sighed into his mouth at the taste of his tongue and feel of his scruff. Each little sound sends a thrill up and down his spine and settles deep and warm in his belly. When they finally pull away, Claire tries and fails to hide her blush, grabbing his wrist and leading him to the bed. Her eyes plead with him, and he can’t say no. Not when she’s looking at him like that; not after everything that’s happened tonight. At that moment, he’d give her the world if she asked, and offer to strap it to Baby’s roof  and haul it around for her if she wanted.

When he’s settled in beneath the soft covers and the light’s turned off, she inches closer until he gets the hint and wraps her in his arms. Their chests are pressed together, hearts trying to match the other’s beat and failing with every shift of their bodies. They’re just hugging, his chin atop her head, legs loosely tangled, but It’s so exhilarating. As the shock wears off and they begin lulling into each other, she tilts her head and noses along his sharp jaw.

The action is enough to jumpstart their hearts again, and their skin on skin contact is almost like a live wire, shooting electricity through their bloodstream. She moves her arm from beneath his and smooths her hand up the cords of muscle, her chipped black fingernails pushing through his hair and gently pulling his lips back to hers.

Claire knows what to expect now. She knows how soft and warm and perfect he is when he kisses her. She knows how fucking full Dean’s lips are, how they slide against hers and how his tongue knows just how to press and flick and make her feel things she’s never even dared to dream of before. But Dean’s full of tricks, full of life and experience that comes with his age. He can keep her guessing and on her toes ‘till she’s thirty, but now’s not the time for any of that. Everything between them is too delicate, so he lets her lips slide against his, lets her hands hold him, and kisses her right back.  

Their mouths are unstoppable and before either can realize, the kiss turns heady, desperate, full of too much emotion on both ends for either of them to stop. Dean pushes against Claire ‘till she’s under him. She’s so fragile, so small, her fair skin smooth under his hands as he starts exploring, slipping his calloused fingers under the hem of her tank and up her stomach.

Dean knows he’s probably pushing some kind of boundary, so he stops, his breath fanning over her lips as he speaks. “If you’re uncomfortable or anything, Claire, you gotta tell me. I’ll stop, no problem. All you gotta do is ask.” His offer is earnest and she gets it, but she has no plans on stopping this now that it’s started.

“Don’t,” she pleads. “Don’t stop.” Her voice doesn’t hold an ounce of uncertainty, so, nodding her consent with her small hands guiding his, Dean continues.

On Dean’s journey over Claire’s body, she can’t stop writhing. She’s eager and almost anxious when they start pulling off each other’s clothes. Dean’s left in only his boxers and she can feel him hardening against her thigh as he sucks marks to her neck. He finds the spot on her shoulder that bore a monster’s bite just hours earlier and erases that memory by taking the skin into his own mouth and marking it for himself. Rough hands push her tank up and over her head, sending shivers down her spine. He works his way down her chest, eyes closed while he latches onto a nipple and sucks, swirling his tongue and revelling in the way she calls his name. The sound prompts him to pull away, flick his eyes up to hers, and reattach his mouth to the other nipple, watching her face contort as he teases her.

Peppering wet kisses and marks down her body, Dean is lying on his stomach, knocking her knees open around his broad shoulders and smoothing his hands up her thighs. His freckled hands swallow them before coming to rest on her hip and stomach while she props herself up on her elbows to watch, insecurity in her eyes and her messy blonde hair spilling over her shoulders and breasts. She knows what’s coming, but she needs to see Dean’s face when he does it; needs to see his face and all the comfort that it brings her as she enters this unknown territory with him; with Dean. The man’s been some kind of mentor for her from the time Cas took Jimmy from her life. Dean’s been there; teaching her how to hunt, showing her how accept her new family and life with Jody, and making her feel safe when no one else could. Trusting Dean with this, well, it’s the easiest thing she could do.  

Pleasure like she’s never known bursts through her when Dean’s mouth meets her core, the thin material of her panties not enough to keep out the wet heat of his tongue and mouth from seeping into her skin. With the way she’s looking right now, Dean can’t wait to get her panties off, see her spread open and taste her properly, so he doesn’t. The sound of fabric ripping is both exhilarating and shocking to her as Dean rips her panties at the side seams, smirking like the bastard he is and tossing the destroyed garment over his shoulder.

“Those were my favorite pair,” Claire huffs, poorly stifling a smile.

“I’ll buy you another pair,” Dean grins cockily, using his broad hands to push her thighs open. The smile curling Dean’s lips falters and he puckers, blows a long breath over her pussy and grips her thighs when a small hiss escapes her pink lips. “Goddamn,” Dean marvels, using his fingers to gently touch her, smoothing his fingertips over her lips and spreading them slowly, watching her expressions before swiping the pad of his thumb up her slit to spread her arousal up to her clit.

“Whoa,” she gasps, and hips buck involuntarily at the contact with her sensitive nub.

“I already told you, sweetheart, if this is too much, just tell me,” Dean offers again, laying kisses to her inner thighs, the look on her face making him feel like she’s hiding something.

“Fuck.” She’s conflicted, breathing heavily, and turning a light shade of pink with Dean, not some random guy from school or wherever-the-fuck, so close to her.

“What is it, baby girl?”

“Baby girl, huh?” Claire huffs in near annoyance. “Dean...I-” she stops before she can even start.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Dean’s cooing, sliding up her body and taking her face in his hands. She won’t meet his eyes and he knows that whatever it is it’s big for her, hard for her to spit out.

“This is...I-” she stops mid sentence again. “I’ve never,” Claire finally gets out, voice quiet, cheeks red, eyes looking anywhere but Dean’s. “I mean, I’ve done stuff, but-”

“You’re a virgin...” Dean smiles and Claire forces her evading gaze to his face, shocked when she doesn’t find a drop of disappointment in his eyes. “That’s nothing to worry about, sweetheart. We all were at one point, this just tells me that this is that much more special for you...if you want to keep going, of course.”

Dean’s offer is clear and she regards him for a long moment, searching for any flicker in his reassuring eyes. They’re so fucking green, and he’s so soft, warm, understanding. It’s all so much it almost hurts, but she wants it, needs it, now more than ever; to feel connected to someone like this, and Dean is the best person she can think of to have her virginity.

‘Not like you’re saving it or anything,’ she’s thinking to herself, smirking a little before wrapping her arms around the man above her and pulling him in for a kiss that tells him everything he needs to know.

Now Dean’s kissing his way back down to the crux of her legs, lips ghosting over her pussy long enough for him to bask in the fact that he’s going to be the first person to truly worship and satisfy her before leaning in and settling his mouth over her. The first noise she lets out has him fighting his every desire to wreck her, make her cum in 2.5 seconds and fuck her into the mattress. However, it’s her first time; she was shy about admitting it, and Dean has zero plans of fucking this up for her. He’s all about pleasing his partners, and Claire is too special to him.

Dean takes care of her, shows her how gentle he can be, how good he can make her feel, what it’s like to have a man worship her body and draw the breath from her lungs in acute pleasure. He’s moving his mouth over her, tasting and sucking and gripping her hips when she cums for the first time. It’s the first orgasm that she hasn’t given herself, and it’s Dean’s to cherish, draw out, and work her through.

Claire is sucking in breaths like the air is vanishing from the room as she comes down, her blue eyes fluttering open to see Dean pushing his boxers off and stroking himself slowly. She’s never actually seen a dick in real life, and the sight of it has a heat flooding her lower belly. He’s thick, long, and she can’t resist reaching out to feel his skin, drawing back hesitantly when he hisses at the contact.

“It’s okay, Claire,” he rasps, looking down at her, and the way her name sounds coming out of his mouth has her own watering and her hand reaching back out, wrapping around him and moving experimentally. The way he grunts is a good enough sign that she’s not fucking it up, so she continues, pumping and spreading precum over his shaft and watching this man she’s known since she was a little girl rock and roll his hips toward her. It’s driving Dean wild the way she’s touching him, so inexperienced but such a natural, and she’s growing eager, yearning to feel him inside her.

“Okay, fuck-Claire, lay back, sweetheart,” Dean groans, moving her hand away from his length and stalking her up the bed.

“Should we use a condom?” she asks, feeling stupid as it comes out of her mouth.

“Probably,” Dean laughs a little, “I’ve got one in my bag,” he says.

It’s a quick thought that has her reaching out and stopping him before he can move off of her, saying, “It’s okay. I mean, you’re clean, this is my first time...you can pull out or I can take something tomorrow. I-I wanna feel you, Dean,” she admits, cheeks rosy for the millionth time tonight.

Her bold words are surprising, but if she’s okay with it, then Dean is, too.  “Claire, are you sure?” And there it is, her name on his lips, driving her wild and making her slam her mouth against his, her kiss giving him the answer he’s looking for.

The weight of his head at her entrance is new, hell, all of it is new, but with Dean, she’s ready for it. Their eyes are locked and he’s prepared to stop at any sign of uncertainty, but she knows what she wants, and she practically begs for it when Dean slowly starts pushing in.

Claire’s walls are hot around him, so fucking tight, and the way she’s breathing deep and licking her lips and digging her fingers into his skin tells him that she’s enjoying it so far. So, he pushes further, stopping when she winces slightly and continuing after she gives him the green light. Pressed together like this, Dean’s mind lands on the thought of Cas and what he’d say if he knew what was happening right now. He knows that Cas isn’t her father, but Jimmy was, and without him here, Cas is the closest thing to a dad that Claire has.

“Whatever you’re thinking, knock it off,” she huffs under him, seeing the thought on his face and pushing it away, bringing him back into the moment. “Dean, move,” she begs, legs wriggling in anticipation and a moan falling from her lips as he draws out.

Their movements happen so naturally, and before either can realise, Dean’s showing her how a man is supposed to treat a woman, what the meaning of ‘making love’ is, and she’s there for it; eyes screwed shut and hands digging into his skin, arching up into him and meeting him thrust for thrust. He’s making sure it’s all about her, that she’s being taken care of and that her first time isn’t just some split decision fuck. He wants the first kisses and touches to have meaning for her, and he’s happy he’s the one able to give that to her. It’s been a fucking emotional night, and a lot of feelings he didn’t realize he had are now hanging in the air between them as he presses and pulls and grinds his hips into hers.  

“Dean!” That unmistakable ‘almost there’ is laced in her voice when she cries out his name, and he’s quick to press his lips to hers.

“It’s okay, I’m right here, Claire. Go ahead, let it happen.”

Dean’s encouragement surrounds her and his efforts double. Claire’s fingers are going white as they dig into Dean’s arms, shoulders, back, and ass, her body covered in sweat and Dean’s breath on her lips when that pit in her stomach opens up and swallows her whole.

It’s like nothing she’s felt before when she cums, walls fluttering around the cock pushing in and out of her, body arching up and vision going black for a second while her world crumbles around her. She can hear Dean in the back of her head, past the sound of her blood rushing through her veins. He’s grunting her name, growling, ‘fuck, fuck, Claire, honey, I-’ before he starts cumming inside her. Dean makes an effort to pull out, but he’s already in her, and she wants to feel it all, so her hands pull at his hips and she lifts her own up off the bed to keep him inside her as he pulses and makes noises that only leave her wanting more.

As Dean fills her, continues to pump his hips into hers, Claire can feel the slick mixture of their arousals sopping out of her, spreading onto her lips and sliding down between her cheeks. Their breaths are ragged and Dean is slumping into her, groaning her name and letting his weight push her into the mattress as she claws at his back, writhing and moaning as her orgasm stretches into a second, smaller one. She shudders with pleasure as he pulls out, his fingers reaching between them to rub her clit in small circles and work her through it, wetness coating his fingertips as his cum slowly oozes out of her. It’s an odd feeling, but she can get past it as she comes down with Dean pressing kisses to her parted mouth.

The moment that’s hanging between them when their orgasms wear off is one of pure connectivity. They can’t tear their eyes off each other and their lips are like magnets as they bask in their afterglow, only breaking apart when Dean forces himself to pull away and grab a washcloth to clean up.

Once they’re settled back in the bed, with Dean’s arms wrapped around her again, Claire breaks her silence, quietly saying, “Dean?” He hums and she takes a breath. “Can we not tell anyone about this?” she asks.

Dean laughs a little and replies, “Duh,”, the two of them sharing a smile and kiss before falling into sleep.

Morning comes faster than it should, and they take it slow, showering together and leaving kisses on each other’s skin. And when they’re dressed and ready to head downstairs, Dean stops her with his hand around her wrist.

Bringing her hand up to his lips, he places a soft kiss to her knuckles, smiling down at the young woman before him. “Claire, I-”

“Stop,” she cuts him off. “Whatever you’re gonna say, just...don’t.” She sighs and pushes a hand through her hair before continuing. “I don’t know what this is, what last night was,” she breathes out a laugh, “other than amazing…” and he’s beaming back down at her, “but let’s just leave it alone for now. Figure it out later,’ she suggests, and he agrees.

Dean can’t be chasing something with his best friend’s ‘daughter’, especially not right now, but he’s betting that he won’t be able to get her out of his head for a while to come. He’s smiling almost foolishly and she can’t help but roll her blue eyes before leaning in and kissing him good and long before grabbing her shit and making her way out of his room and to the elevator.

This place has a continental breakfast, and Claire is chuckling to herself as she sits at the small table with Mick and Sam, tea and a scone in front of the Brit and a feast made of free food in front of Sam. Dean is nowhere to be found, but when Sam starts stashing bagels and donuts wrapped in napkins into his jacket pockets, she can only assume they’re for Dean to eat the road. When they eat their fill, the three make their way out front just in time for Baby to pull up to the valet entrance.

“Gassed and ready to go,” Dean affirms to Sam as he makes his way to the trio.

“Well, good luck, Claire,” Mick smiles, shaking her hand. Claire curtly thanks him before he takes his seat in Baby’s backseat.  

Turning to Sam and Dean, she can only think, ‘God, these assholes are like the big brothers I never asked for.’ But Dean, he can’t fill that space anymore, and she’s okay with it.

Sam hugs her long and warm, as always, and Dean’s body is solid against hers when she wraps her arms around his shoulders, and she can’t help but breathe him in so she can have it as a lasting memory, at least until she sees him again. Dean does the same, holding her a second longer than he should if he doesn’t want Sam to get suspicious. Breaking away from her is about the hardest thing he’s had to do in a while, and thinking of her being out in the world, alone, hunting, scares the shit out of him. He has to let her go, though. He has to, whether he likes it or not.

She’s walking to her car, then, bags in hand when the sounds of boots nearing ring in her ears. When she turns, Dean’s jogging toward her, brown bag in hand.

“Something for the road,” he says, dumbly amused with his choice of words. Claire chuckles when she opens the bag and finds a box of ‘Plan B’, a couple of candy bars, and a small wad of money.

“You’re so old,” she giggles. “Thanks,” she smiles, stepping forward and kissing his cheek while the others aren’t looking.

Dean shoots a wink down at her and it has her heart constricting in her chest, not wanting to leave. But she has to, so she tosses her bags in the back and plops down into the driver’s seat, pulling out of the parking lot with green eyes in her rear view, and god-knows-what in her future. Dean stands in the parking lot watching her car disappear into the distance, sending up a prayer to a God he hopes might listen, just this once, to keep her safe until she’s back under his protection again.

[bedlamgames]

Q&A #30

Today answers on Twine, slave names, more on slave to slavers, typos, and living armour among others.

Anonymous: I've dabbled enough in twine to know that snapshot of Whorelock's looked painful. Good luck with that! As a novice is there a reason you went with twine 1 over twine 2? Have you considered doing some of it as script calls? I think that's how FC guy does his descriptions, rather than having a twine passage that has all of the if's it just calls a javascript, might even be able to get someone to help with that part. Thanks for letting me pick your brain.

Thanks! I make no claims to have any idea what I’m doing on the Twine front with script calls being entirely foreign but I did try both and found I preferred how Twine handled things over 2. Main reason though was that was how Stranded was done and that was the game that convinced me WR could be done in that program. 

Anonymous: never mind about the expire it was that they took a really long time to. 

Some do have expiry dates in the 40-80 day region and you check them on some of the assignment overviews. 

Anonymous: not really questions, but just some feedback on a couple things, firstly with scenarios if you try to use the remove dominant options the dominant doesn't get removed, which means you can add secretly submissive multiple times as dominant stays there. secondly in scenarios if you pick disgraced noble human female the veteran head maid has the wrong abbreviations for her traits in the inventory box it lists (C:Cu)(Cre)(Pcp)(Flk)(Sed) and examine says she has (Lea)(Trn) instead of the first two

Feedback is perfectly good, I do like feedback as well as questions. 

Huh, okay will check that and thanks for the spots. 

Anonymous: On the subject of switches, in the future when slaves happen to get both submissive and dominant through training crits/paths will it be melded into switch in the future? Seems like it might be good in case switch itself is ever a modifier for an event, or if it could possibly help alleviate having one as a weakness and one as a strength at the same time, although I haven't seen that happen so far, iirc.

Yeah both of those are good ideas. When I do advanced dominance training for promoting to slaver I’ll probably incorporate that then. Cheers. 

Anonymous: Love the game and thought I would see if I can help out a little. When I examine my second in command, it says this: "Tinaslut has gigantic tits... She has sparkling unnaturally pink eyes, beach-blonde hair with pink highlights, and a magically enhanced physique. Carmen's head is decorated by two small horns.(Btf)(Sub)(Con)(Cun)(Per)(Sed)(Sne)" Carmen was her name pre-event (should be Tinaslut now) and the traits appeared after an event in the Deep Mountains gave her the horns.

Thank you! Also oh wow, you have no idea what a mess you caused me with this innocent little spot. Had completely failed to realise that name changes would cause problems with how the horns corruption currently worked and had to completely change it. 

Anonymous: Is there a way to change the name of a slave?

There will be. Possibly next update.

Anonymous: 0.7202: nethemir slaver got the following examination text after into the depth crit: "As a quintari futanari they have hooves for feet and a long silken tail." wasnt part of any corruption event and has no (fel).

Odd one, not sure what caused that. Will look into it.

Anonymous: is crafting completely randomized or are there certain clothing/armor types that are more frequently crafted of certain races? like silk robes are more likely crafter by elves whereas street walker attire could be more likely crafted by succubi? also if you have a dwarven smith he crafts nearly all the time equipment in dwarven style which is too small for everyone except dwarves and goblins, feels like a restriction.

To some extent yes though it varies. I do need to add a general order so that you can ask for small, regular or large versions for ogres and the like as an option.

Anonymous: 0.7202: theres again something wrong with the clothing equipment, storage says its full and assignments dont give additional items. main suspects are a brief foray and shark of the cards.

How many items had you had by that point and had you done one of the assignment starts?

Anonymous: Bug in version 0.7202 (No Haven) - I'm trying to send a slaver to "Infiltration - Lead Astray - (One Slaver) - (Seven Days) - (Common)" and it tells me "You do not currently have enough slavers available to complete this assignment while keeping the encampment secure." I currently have 8 slavers in the camp (myself included).

Sounds like a counter has gone wonky. Will check it. 

xcomcommander12: I managed to somehow get two Keldan students, both exactly the same after the assignment completed again the day after I completed it. Useful, but now it freaks some when I try to send them out on a mission together.

I can imagine! So they were both of the Keldan diplomacy success? 

Anonymous: stumbled upon the new male goblin start which i have somehow missed ^.^ anywho in the ogre rashnags lore there is a line: 'the Countess insisted that Rashnag, nor a single one of his follower, had so much as even a finger on her body' i think theres a word missing (had 'laid' so much as even a finger on her body) maybe? Thanks for your efforts!

Cheers for the typo spot, and thank you. 

Anonymous: something for no haven, maybe its what the healslut will do in future builds, but i had a slightly different idea about a slave who helps to watch over other slaves: headgirl, alpha or prime camp bitch, same traits like a regular camp bitch but also needs leader to command the camp bitches, several other traits improve the status of the camp bitches line faster regeneration or more durable in sexing, or to reduce camp bitch sexing, some qol improvements. got quite some more ideas

That’s got potential and it could be used as part of the progression from slave to slaver to show they can handle it. Added it to my notes. 

Anonymous: whorelocks revengen has an unimplemented feature, all natural. it mentions living and natural clothing like equipment. could this be a thing for no haven too? enchanted clothing/armor that has tentacles inside to boost traits like strength or agi?

It wasn’t actually entirely un-implemented as the Tangle Infestation item was in the game for ages but I disabled it temporarily (course that turned into quite the long temporarily..) due to not being entirely happy with how the quest to remove it was working. But that digression aside, yeah I’m sure I’ll do something with that in No Haven. Probably as you discover more about what’s going on in the depths of the Ever Forest. 

[lalka-laski]

Survey Fun

What’s the weather like right now? Unusually warm for January in Upstate New York. But my walk to work this morning was lovely and I only had to wear a spring jacket, so I’ll take it!  What are you currently sitting on? An office chair. How many times have you brushed your teeth today? Just once, it’s only 7 am. 

When did you get up? 5:45. I woke up just a few minutes before my alarm, which is uncharacteristic of me. I’ve been sleeping soundly the entire night lately and waking up refreshed! I always thought restful sleep was a scam but I’m becoming a believer! 

Have you been in a vehicle for more than 45 minutes today? I haven’t been in a vehicle for quite a few days actually. Perks of the pedestrian life! 

Where is your best friend? My lifelong best friend lives in Pittsburgh.  How many days until Christmas? It’s January 11th so you can do the math  Have you kissed someone today? I have not  Is your mom over 50? 50 and some change. Maybe 55? I should know this...  How old were you 7 years ago? 20. OH GOD! This was not the kind of realization I needed today.  Do you know what ‘C'est la vie’ means? I do. And I can’t read or hear that phrase without “C’est la vie” by B*Witched running through my head. The ‘90s were strange.  Do you usually take showers or baths? Showers recently because my current bathtub isn’t really fit for a proper soak. (Hasn’t stopped me from trying though...) One of my requirements for my future house is a nice bathtub. What kind of bottoms are you wearing right now? Black jeggings with a tummy control panel that I have to say doesn’t work that great. 

Are you wearing anything red? My nails What was the name of your first pet? Beanie the bunny!  Do you live in an apartment? I do, and a fairly decent one at that. I’m happy! What color is the floor in the room you’re in? It’s not one distinguishable color but rather an array of earth tones.  What was the most irritating thing to happen to you today? Knock on wood, the day’s been calm and stress free so far. Granted, I’ve only been at work for an hour and only seen 2 clients BUT... it’s a nice start. How do you feel about your most recent ex? I don’t think about him anymore, and for that I am grateful.  Do you wish at 11:11? Sometimes just for fun.  Do you wish on shooting stars? Once as a kid I was sitting in my backyard the night before an end-of-the-school-year picnic. I saw a shooting star and I wished that I would win a game of Bingo at the picnic. And the next day, I did! So as far as I’m concerned, shooting star wishes have a 100% success rate and that is not debatable ok. 

Do you wish on dandelions? I do! I like the whimsical fun of it.   Are you drinking anything right now? I just finished a coffee and now I’m sipping water. I rotate between water, sparkling water and coffee throughout my work days. The bathroom trips are INCESSANT!  About how tall is your father? It’s funny, everyone assumes he’s 6′ or taller, but he’s really only about 5′10. He’s just such a large man and has a very big, intimidating presence so he appears taller than he is.  How old is your oldest living grandparent? Mid-80s.  Do you know anyone who has lived to be 100+? My maternal grandfather’s mother lived ‘till her late 90s if I’m not mistaken. Which was pretty unprecedented for her era. I could see my grandpa living ‘till 100 himself. And his wife (my grandma) just might as well despite her decaying health, because as my mom says “evil never dies.”  Have you had your birthday yet this year? Not for another 7 months!  Do you read your horoscope on a regular basis? I don’t, but I still find astrology interesting. I view it less as dogma and more as a tool for self-discovery and introspection. And I think people who want to criticize the validity of it need to lighten up a little!

Do you like the color yellow? It’s one of my least favorites actually. I NEVER wear yellow apparel or accessories, and I’m not even fond of it for decor/knick knacks etc. Something about it, I dunno... 

Are you an aunt or uncle? My boyfriend has a niece and nephew that I refer to as my own. And they will technically be someday, so better to just get in the habit now I suppose! Why is your best friend your best friend? It was destiny, if I’m honest. What is your hair like at the moment? I have it piled into a hair-clip. This hairstyle paired with my glasses give me a real librarian vibe, but not in a sexy way.  How many times have you donated blood this year? This calendar year, none. Last year I believe I donated once? I try to as much as possible. It’s such a simple act of charity. Plus, you usually get a tee shirt or something out of it! Are you wearing any jewelry? My claddagh & my promise ring (we call it “the placeholder).  Are you a video-gamer? We never had any kind of gaming consoles or devices growing up. Not because we weren’t allowed, but because they simply never interested us. I did like a few PC games though as a kid. Carmen Sandiego is still my bitch!  Who got married at the last wedding you went to? My good friend Sarah Do you like Chinese food? I do! I just had some mock Sesame Chicken the other day and it was bomb.  How far is the nearest Walmart? A little less than a 10 minute drive from here, I think. Have you ever been a designated driver? Never. And not only for the obvious reason that I don’t have a license. Even if I did, I wouldn’t want that responsibility. When I go out, I GO OUT.  What is something that always brings tears to your eyes? Looking at pictures of my “babies” (the little girls I nanny or my goddaughter). I sometimes can’t even talk about them without getting a little crack in my voice. My love for them is just outrageous.  Who is your 20th phone contact? If you really think I’m picking up my phone and counting... Do you have any plans to get a tattoo? I used to have a list of potential tattoos but looking back, I’m grateful I never followed through with any. I’m maxed out at one tat.  Or a new piercing? None.

What would your name be if your last name was the color of your shirt? Black. Elizabeth Black, hmm... doesn’t suit me at all. If you could find out how you would die, would you want to know? ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT.  Do you make your bed regularly? I lazily make it. By that I mean, I prop the pillows against the headboard, lay the comforter flat and then strategically toss the throw blankets across it. It’s the perfect effortless-but-actually-required-some-effort look.  Do you look forward to the weekend? It’s Saturday right now and I am living for it!  How much do you know about the mechanics of cars? Not a damn thing. Has anyone ever told you you should be a model? Actually, yeah. But I don’t get those comments anymore and I’ll try to pretend that’s not result of my weight gain...  How old was your mom when she had you? 27 I believe? Which is the exact age I am right now, so this has been a fun survey *eye roll*  Do rainy days get you down? No, I adore them! Who is the artist/band you’re listening to at the moment? Just the instrumental office music right now. But lately I’ve been LOVING Blood Orange.  Do you ever take aspirin when you 'feel a headache coming on’? Occasionally. I only really get headaches when I’m hungover so it’s not often.  Is there a calendar in the room you’re in? Nope. Do you prefer to be in a relationship or be single? I’m in a beautiful and healthy relationship right now so, that should answer it.  If you’re single, do you wish you were in a relationship? Have you ever had your heart broken? Plenty of times  Do you live within an hour of the beach? I do! For Upsate NY we have a pretty good selection of beaches. How do you like your steak? I don’t. Were you born in the 1980s? I WISH

[cloverr-fields]

Same anon now do the evens to the asks from that post :3c

Oh gosh, I’m so flattered you’re so interested! Here goes!!!

2. Do you ever get “good morning” texts from anyone? Yes, actually! From one of my really good friends, and it’s really nice. Usually every morning, too!

4. Do you find it easy to trust others? I assume everyone to be trustworthy until proven otherwise. I don’t necessarily tell everyone everything about me right away, but I’m usually pretty naive when it comes to this kind of thing! 

6. You’re drunk and lost walking down the road; who is with you? @justanotherurl-not. She would definitely be there with me. It would probably be her fault, tbh. 

8. Are you close with your dad? No, not really. I have a long history with him, and while he’s trying to be better, and we’re patching things up, I don’t think I’ll ever be nearly as close with him as with my mom. 

10. What are you listening to? Currently my K-Pop playlist, and a lecture from today that I did not understand so I recorded it OvOb

12. Do you like hickeys? Being given one? Giving one? The thought of them? Because the answer to all of them is yes, honestly. 

14. Is there someone who continuously lets you down? My dad, honestly. 

16. Do you always answer your texts? If it’s clear that the conversation is over/was being ended, then no. But otherwise, I’m the type of person who sends a shameless amount of texts and I always answer them as soon as I have the time/chance. 

18. When was the last time you talked to one of your best friends? This morning! 

20. What was your last thought before you went to bed last night? I was thinking about an assignment that I still have to complete for my class next week. 

22. Do you believe what goes around comes around? Absolutely. I believe karma is a bitch, and that it might not strike immediately, but what you wish onto people will come back to you. I try to be nice to everyone specifically for that reason– you never know when it’ll come back to bite you in the ass, you know? 

24. Is there someone you wish you could fix things with? We’re patching things up now, but I hope that it goes smoothly and that it doesn’t affect our friendship. So yeah, I guess. Maybe some of my childhood best friends, too. 

26. What color is the shirt you’re wearing? Light pink with silver sparkles on it! 

28. Is anyone ignoring you right now? I don’t think so? Not as far as I know, at least, but now I’m worrying about it. 

30. Would it be hard seeing someone else kiss the last person you kissed? Definitely. But I’m going to have to be able to live with it. 

32. Are you mad at anyone? A few people, but I don’t really know how to deal with anger so I don’t really say anything about it. 

34. How old will the last person you kissed be on his/her next birthday? She will be 21 or 22!

36. Do you have any summer plans yet? Yeah! I’m going to be interning with a psychologist, and probably doing some summer courses. I’m going to try and get a job, and maybe my lifeguarding license too, so we’ll see what happens!

38. Are you keeping anything from your best friend(s) now? I don’t think so? Maybe? 

40. Have you ever regretted kissing someone? Not the actual action itself, no. 

42. Are you available? I’m single, but I don’t really know if I’m looking right now. Depends on circumstances, I suppose. 

44. If you had to get a piercing (not ears), what would you get? Probably a nose piercing? But I don’t really like those, so it would be like one of the tiny studs, you know? I do want a second piercing on my ear, so…. That doesn’t count, tho. 

46. Do you regret anything? I think everyone has a few regrets. 

48. Did you ever lose a best friend? I did, and it was very painful. I’d like to try and get in touch with her again, though, but I don’t think I’m going to….

50. Why aren’t you pursuing the person you like? We agreed that we’re going to just be friends, and I’m going to respect that.

52. Do you still talk with the person you LAST kissed? Yes, she’s my best friend and I would hate to stop talking to her. 

54. Did you get any compliments today? Yeah, actually!! One of my best friends walked into the classroom and plopped down next to me and told me that I looked really cute today! 

56. Do you own anything from other countries? My friend from Russia brought me matryoshka from Moscow, so I have those and I love them very much. 

58. Where have you lived most of your life? America, New York to be precise!

60. Have you ever played Spin the Bottle? No, but I’d like to. 

62. Who do you text the most? Probably @mizuritamanami, honestly. But I don’t know. 

64. What’s preventing your current boyfriend/girlfriend from going back to their ex? I don’t have one at the moment. 

66. Is the last person you kissed younger than you? Nope, all the people I’ve kissed have been older than me. 

68. Are you happy with where you live? Oh, yeah, I love Jerusalem a lot. I’m planning on moving back here, eventually!

70. Are you a monogamous person or do you believe in open-ended relationships? I believe that open-ended relationships are possible when there is a lot of trust and understanding and communication, but having been in one myself and tried it, it hurt too much and was too confusing for me. Definitely a monogamous person. 

72. What do you most like about making out? If someone’s hands are in my hair, or cupping my face, I love that. I don’t know, there are little things that happen like biting lips and stuff and I like how intimate it feels to me. That might sound dumb, but

74. When you kiss someone for the first time, is it usually you who initiates it or the other? It’s pretty even, actually. 

76. Who was the last person you talked to last night before you went to bed? One of my best friends, I believe. 

78. Had sex with someone and you didn’t know their name? Nope, never had sex. 

80. Would you get involved with someone if they had a child already? Not at my age, no, but maybe in the future depending on how things go/circumstances. 

82. Do you tell a lot of people when you have a crush? Depends on how serious, but I usually tell anyone and everyone that I feel close to….. ^^; 

84. Last time you slow danced with someone? Probably my uncle or grandfather when my mom got remarried. So two years ago? 

86. How can I win your heart? Be genuine, be kind. Common interests and friendship is also important– to win my heart you need to be someone I can be friends with and hold a conversation with, someone intelligent and interesting, someone who’s a little bit of a dork and can appreciate that I am too. There’s a few more things, but those are what came to mind immediately. Empathy and understanding, too. 

88. What were you doing last night at 12 AM? On Tumblr and trying to get my ass to go to sleep. 

90. Have you ever gotten back in touch with an old flame after a time of more than 3 months of no communication? Not in a romantic sense, but to be friends, yeah. 

92. Do you prefer to date various people or do you fall into monogamous relationships quickly? Half-and-half I guess? I don’t really know. I have a habit of rushing into relationships and things. 

94. Name four things that you wish you had: A 3DS, my complete copy of Edgar Allen Poe’s writings and essays, a million dollars, a stable emotional and mental state. 

96. Have you ever kissed two people in one day? Nope. 

98. Ever meet anyone you met on Tumblr? Yup! One of my best friends I met on Tumblr, and she came to stay with me for a week last month. 

100. Anybody on Tumblr that you’d go on a date with? A few people, yeah. 

102. Are you too shy to ask someone out? Oh God, yes. It’s a big problem. 

104. Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you babe? Abso-fucking-lutley. 

106. Do you flirt a lot? I don’t think so? Usually, I’m just being nice. 

108. Have you kissed more than 5 people since the start of 2012? Nope. 

110. If you could kiss anyone who would it be? I’m going to keep that to myself, actually. Sorry, buddy.

112. Does someone like you currently? I think so.

114. Do you like to be in serious relationships or just flings? Right now I could only have a fling, but I get emotionally invested and attached really quickly and it becomes an issue. So I could probably really only handle serious relationships, and I’m okay with that. 

116. Are you happier single or in a relationship?Depends on the circumstances and things happening. I like being in a relationship, though, because I feel loved and important, and idk it’s just nice. There are definitely times I’m happier single though, and I think right now might be one of them. 

Thank you so much for asking, and I’m so flattered that you had me answer so many questions!! I’m always happy to talk with you guys!!

Ask me anything             This ask list

[platatoandsoquoquediscovern-blog]

Soquoque discovers:

My thoughts while watching twilight breaking dawn part 2, in 100 sentences or less  

1.       WHY ARE THE OPENING CREDITS SO LONG?

2.       Lol Bella is a vampire now, SURPRISE.

3.       AAAAH CGI PANTHER IS CGI

4.       Also, a panther? Really Bella? Way to overachieve

5.       Ew ew, CGI baby is CGI and really fucking weird looking

6.       Bella is about to beat Jacobs butt (also why does he take so long to tell her that he imprinted on her infant. Bruh this is not the moment to be vague)

7.       Kristen Stewart angry is only slightly more expressive then everyday Kristen Stewart

8.       Baby had feelings for Jacob in the womb

9.       Ah no Seth… Sam..? the brown werewolf

10.   Shortest fight EVER

11.   Also, anyone notice how he calls her Ness once and then literally never again.

12.   Aaaaah CGI baby is still heavily CGI

13.   I feel like part of Bella’s reason for being in this movie is to just point out all the stuff about vampires we already know since this is the fifth fucking movie. E.g. “vampires don’t sleep”

14.   Tbh this movie has a really good soundtrack, and a lot of sparkle effects  

15.   There she goes again pointing shit out “we don’t get tired” yeah Bella, we fucking know

16.   Directors message to Jacob was “eat this sandwich and stare out of the window longingly” and Taylor Lautner was like “I got this”

17.   Why didn’t Jacob know the entire plan? Like what did they expect him to do. I would totally go and wolf out in front of Bella’s father if I got this totally out of the blue news

18.   I fucking love Charlie man.  And Taylor Lautner’s work out programme.

19.   Was the acting always this bad? Also did Edward always sound like he was from Boston, New York?

20.   Lol these vampires seriously overestimate what we as a human species notice about each other. Move your shoulders so it looks like you’re breathing? You know how often I notice if people are breathing? Never

21.   Carlisle got tan-ish. I like it

22.   Kristen Stewart pretending to be Bella pretending to be a human-being-like Kristen Stewart is a sight and a half

23.   Charlie took all of this crap a lot better than they gave him credit for. Also, was he even in the Part 1? Or is this whole concerned dad act only present when the script calls for it?

24.   Bella makes promises she can’t keep

25.   Bells? Bells? Nope don’t even try to pull that surprise nickname thing Chuck. Also, aaaaah CGI baby is back. Again I ask, why couldn’t they JUST USE A NORMAL HUMAN BABY. YOU MADE A SHIT TON OF MONEY TWILIGHT, BUT YOU COULDN’T SPRING FOR A ACTUAL BABY (ASSUMING THEY ARE ALSO PAIID ACTORS OBVIOUSLY)

26.   The movie has time for a Bella vs Emmet arm wrestling match in case you forgot that new-borns are stronger than their aged vampire counter parts

27.   “That’s right bitches, I sparkle too now” – Bella, circa 2012

28.   “we shake hands now you forgive us for trying to kill the girl you loved and her baby. Yes?” “Yes.”

29.   Also, wtf is Reneesme and why do we only see this really high jumping power once and never again?

30.   Also, also, fuck Irina.

31.   Also, also also AAAAAAAH CGI EIGHT-YEAR-OLD IS CGI

32.   Yay, the Edward piano solo I was waiting for… said literally no one ever

33.   Damn she got to Rome fast.

34.   Also, the Voltari man. If you look up creepy old guys in the dictionary you will see their picture, posing like Charlie’s angels

35.   Can we run through Alice’s plan really quickly? She has this vision that the Voltari are ‘coming for them’ and then she, the fucking future see-er just bounces? Leaving them all to their own devices? Like what a dick move Alice- and yeah yeah I get that she needed to go find that other vampire-human hybrid and shit but a heads up would have been nice

36.   Also, “Vampire sex?” “No, too graphic.” “Throwing babies into fires?” “Yeah, that should be fine.”- the producers, probably

37.   Does Rosalee… Rosaline… Nikki Reed’s character, only have like five lines in this entire movie?

38.   Oh, look it’s those two shock ladies and that one brunette lady.

39.   AAAAH CGI 8-YEAR-OLD- YOU GET THE POINT

40.   Wow do all vampires overreact like this

41.   she touches their faces and now everything’s fine (even though they tried to kill her like 2 seconds ago)

42.   Yaaaaay Rami Malek. Look at the nature man go.

43.   Benjamin is the bestest

44.   Random safari ladies are fucking random… but appreciated

45.   Mentions the unpredictability of the nomad Peter… nothing happens ever again

46.   We have eighteen people, yay

47.   You don’t want to fight Allister? Then why are you here dude

48.   Its CGI jungle within a CGI jungle- its CGI-CEPTION

49.   Ooooooh, she’s a shield…. We knew that but okay

50.   The Russians are coming, the Russians are coming

51.   I thought Jacob was supposed to be the smart wolf… why is he hopelessly jumping at trees he can’t climb?

52.   Cedric Diggory: Hufflepuff, piano player, vegetarian, prize speech giver.

53.   Lol Bella stood up like she has a choice in whether to fight or not. Its your child babe, you best fight.

54.   Sudden introduction to Jane’s psycho brother Alec is sudden

55.   You’re telling me the Voltari found this one chump who couldn’t get to Carlisle house in time? That’s convenient

56.   And thus, commences Bella’s training, which lasts like five minutes before she totally has that shit down. And henceforth to the battlefield

57.   Also, Edward and Emmet make this scene… and the entire movie really

58.   Oh right, Reneesme is in this movie… forgot about her. Thanks for the bedtime story reading time thing twilight makers

59.   Bella: new-born, question-asker, part time Sherlock Holmes. Also, Edward GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF THE GUTTER MAN. YOUR CHILD’S LIFE IS AT STAKE

60.   Ah Charlie, poor, hopeless, oblivious Charlie.

61.   Bella sits in a restaurant while her child’s life hangs in the balance  

62.   Also, AH, ITS RACHEL ZANES FATHER

63.   Bella has some seriously crappy handwriting… also goodbye Allister, we all knew you wouldn’t last

64.   Look at that, Charlie has a girlfriend.  And I don’t care

65.   Uhm I got up and left for like 3 minutes and now… campfire? Okay cool.

66.   These stories are really freaking depressing…. anyone know any good Dracula stories?

67.   Father- son bonding moments for the win.

68.   But side note, Edward never thanked Carlisle once for saving his life? Not even once? Dick move Cullen, dick move.

69.   Dum dum duh dum… landscapes, snow, so…many…vampires

70.   I love how they all stand in nice little groups just to really emphasise how pathetic the Cullen Army is compared to the monstrosity that is the Voltari

71.   Remove the hoods of our coats so they know we mean business

72.   Hey Carlisle, if you move closer you won’t have to yell

73.   If there was ever a time to vampire speed run, IT WOULD BE NOW EDWARD

74.   Question: what exactly is Aro’s ability again? He can read a persons past? Their minds? Their hands?

75.   “Emmet, you and Jacob in the back. Edward and I will protect her from the side. Ready? Break” – Bella probably

76.   Dude, I will never get over Aro’s creepy as shit laugh. Like we get it dude, you’re batshit crazy, no need to scare the kids.

77.   These Voltari don’t play around… they brought torches and everything. Also, oh no that lady that betrayed the Cullen’s is dead…but on the plus side Bella is actually being useful for once so yay?

78.   “Suck on my awesome shield making powers bitch”- Bella, probably again

79.   Lol Aro stopped Alec from unleashing his slow ass fog on the Cullen’s like it was going to make a difference?

80.   Such…a long…speech

81.   Alice is back yay… took her sweet ass time getting here though. Also, WHY IS NO ONE VAMPIRE RUNNING?

82.   Okay so a summary of the events taking place right now: everything is going to shit. Carlisle is dead (not gonna lie, the first time I watched this movie I lost my shit when that happened) and basically everyone is killing everyone. But obvs the Cullen’s have to win or else what is the point although all logic would say that they really shouldn’t because they have eighteen fucking vampires and the Voltari have like…a lot more than eighteen but hey, Cullen’s for the win

83.   “Aaaaaaaaand it was all an illusion suckers. Fuck you for thinking we would kill Carlisle, we love that guy” – the maker of twilight, probably.

84.   Hey there’s that Brazilian vampire-human hybrid dude that’s going to save the day. Woohoo

85.   Oh, so NOW they vampire run. Fucking stupid ass Voltari

86.   Lol another father-son bonding moment. Easy there son Jacob, respect your dad

87.   Aww look at the happy family on the CGI beach.

88.   And now folks, a recap of the past four movies… you know, just in case you missed it.

89.   Is it just me or are they just making up Bella’s ‘abilities’ as we go along. What, now she can remove her shield and let Edward read her mind. Fuck off twilight people.

90.   Also, AAAAHHHH its younger, creepier Edward

91.   And just like that, the end of an era. So long you sparkly sons of bitches

92.   So…many…end credits. (I do love this song though)

93.   Wait, is Booboo Stewart related to Kristen Stewart? Please hold while I Google this

94.   He’s not.

[caityamyvr-blog]

My thoughts while watching Breaking Dawn Part 2: in up to 100 sentences

1.       WHY ARE THE OPENING CREDITS SO LONG?

2.       Lol Bella is a vampire now, SURPRISE.

3.       AAAAH CGI PANTHER IS CGI

4.       Also, a panther? Really Bella? Way to overachieve

5.       Ew ew, CGI baby is CGI and really fucking weird looking

6.       Bella is about to beat Jacobs butt (also why does he take so long to tell her that he imprinted on her infant. Bruh this is not the moment to be vague)

7.       Kristen Stewart angry is only slightly more expressive then everyday Kristen Stewart

8.       Baby had feelings for Jacob in the womb

9.       Ah no Seth… Sam..? the brown werewolf

10.   Shortest fight EVER

11.   Also, anyone notice how he calls her Ness once and then literally never again.

12.   Aaaaah CGI baby is still heavily CGI

13.   I feel like part of Bella’s reason for being in this movie is to just point out all the stuff about vampires we already know since this is the fifth fucking movie. E.g. “vampires don’t sleep”

14.   Tbh this movie has a really good soundtrack, and a lot of sparkle effects  

15.   There she goes again pointing shit out “we don’t get tired” yeah Bella, we fucking know

16.   Directors message to Jacob was “eat this sandwich and stare out of the window longingly” and Taylor Lautner was like “I got this”

17.   Why didn’t Jacob know the entire plan? Like what did they expect him to do. I would totally go and wolf out in front of Bella’s father if I got this totally out of the blue news

18.   I fucking love Charlie man.  And Taylor Lautner’s work out programme.

19.   Was the acting always this bad? Also did Edward always sound like he was from Boston, New York?

20.   Lol these vampires seriously overestimate what we as a human species notice about each other. Move your shoulders so it looks like you’re breathing? You know how often I notice if people are breathing? Never

21.   Carlisle got tan-ish. I like it

22.   Kristen Stewart pretending to be Bella pretending to be a human-being-like Kristen Stewart is a sight and a half

23.   Charlie took all of this crap a lot better than they gave him credit for. Also, was he even in the Part 1? Or is this whole concerned dad act only present when the script calls for it?

24.   Bella makes promises she can’t keep

25.   Bells? Bells? Nope don’t even try to pull that surprise nickname thing Chuck. Also, aaaaah CGI baby is back. Again I ask, why couldn’t they JUST USE A NORMAL HUMAN BABY. YOU MADE A SHIT TON OF MONEY TWILIGHT, BUT YOU COULDN’T SPRING FOR A ACTUAL BABY (ASSUMING THEY ARE ALSO PAIID ACTORS OBVIOUSLY)

26.   The movie has time for a Bella vs Emmet arm wrestling match in case you forgot that new-borns are stronger than their aged vampire counter parts

27.   “That’s right bitches, I sparkle too now” – Bella, circa 2012

28.   “we shake hands now you forgive us for trying to kill the girl you loved and her baby. Yes?” “Yes.”

29.   Also, wtf is Reneesme and why do we only see this really high jumping power once and never again?

30.   Also, also, fuck Irina.

31.   Also, also also AAAAAAAH CGI EIGHT-YEAR-OLD IS CGI

32.   Yay, the Edward piano solo I was waiting for… said literally no one ever

33.   Damn she got to Rome fast.

34.   Also, the Voltari man. If you look up creepy old guys in the dictionary you will see their picture, posing like Charlie’s angels

35.   Can we run through Alice’s plan really quickly? She has this vision that the Voltari are ‘coming for them’ and then she, the fucking future see-er just bounces? Leaving them all to their own devices? Like what a dick move Alice- and yeah yeah I get that she needed to go find that other vampire-human hybrid and shit but a heads up would have been nice

36.   Also, “Vampire sex?” “No, too graphic.” “Throwing babies into fires?” “Yeah, that should be fine.”- the producers, probably

37.   Does Rosalee… Rosaline… Nikki Reed’s character, only have like five lines in this entire movie?

38.   Oh, look it’s those two shock ladies and that one brunette lady.

39.   AAAAH CGI 8-YEAR-OLD- YOU GET THE POINT

40.   Wow do all vampires overreact like this

41.   she touches their faces and now everything’s fine (even though they tried to kill her like 2 seconds ago)

42.   Yaaaaay Rami Malek. Look at the nature man go.

43.   Benjamin is the bestest

44.   Random safari ladies are fucking random… but appreciated

45.   Mentions the unpredictability of the nomad Peter… nothing happens ever again

46.   We have eighteen people, yay

47.   You don’t want to fight Allister? Then why are you here dude

48.   Its CGI jungle within a CGI jungle- its CGI-CEPTION

49.   Ooooooh, she’s a shield…. We knew that but okay

50.   The Russians are coming, the Russians are coming

51.   I thought Jacob was supposed to be the smart wolf… why is he hopelessly jumping at trees he can’t climb?

52.   Cedric Diggory: Hufflepuff, piano player, vegetarian, prize speech giver.

53.   Lol Bella stood up like she has a choice in whether to fight or not. Its your child babe, you best fight.

54.   Sudden introduction to Jane’s psycho brother Alec is sudden

55.   You’re telling me the Voltari found this one chump who couldn’t get to Carlisle house in time? That’s convenient

56.   And thus, commences Bella’s training, which lasts like five minutes before she totally has that shit down. And henceforth to the battlefield

57.   Also, Edward and Emmet make this scene… and the entire movie really

58.   Oh right, Reneesme is in this movie… forgot about her. Thanks for the bedtime story reading time thing twilight makers

59.   Bella: new-born, question-asker, part time Sherlock Holmes. Also, Edward GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF THE GUTTER MAN. YOUR CHILD’S LIFE IS AT STAKE

60.   Ah Charlie, poor, hopeless, oblivious Charlie.

61.   Bella sits in a restaurant while her child’s life hangs in the balance  

62.   Also, AH, ITS RACHEL ZANES FATHER

63.   Bella has some seriously crappy handwriting… also goodbye Allister, we all knew you wouldn’t last

64.   Look at that, Charlie has a girlfriend.  And I don’t care

65.   Uhm I got up and left for like 3 minutes and now… campfire? Okay cool.

66.   These stories are really freaking depressing…. anyone know any good Dracula stories?

67.   Father- son bonding moments for the win.

68.   But side note, Edward never thanked Carlisle once for saving his life? Not even once? Dick move Cullen, dick move.

69.   Dum dum duh dum… landscapes, snow, so…many…vampires

70.   I love how they all stand in nice little groups just to really emphasise how pathetic the Cullen Army is compared to the monstrosity that is the Voltari

71.   Remove the hoods of our coats so they know we mean business

72.   Hey Carlisle, if you move closer you won’t have to yell

73.   If there was ever a time to vampire speed run, IT WOULD BE NOW EDWARD

74.   Question: what exactly is Aro’s ability again? He can read a persons past? Their minds? Their hands?

75.   “Emmet, you and Jacob in the back. Edward and I will protect her from the side. Ready? Break” – Bella probably

76.   Dude, I will never get over Aro’s creepy as shit laugh. Like we get it dude, you’re batshit crazy, no need to scare the kids.

77.   These Voltari don’t play around… they brought torches and everything. Also, oh no that lady that betrayed the Cullen’s is dead…but on the plus side Bella is actually being useful for once so yay?

78.   “Suck on my awesome shield making powers bitch”- Bella, probably again

79.   Lol Aro stopped Alec from unleashing his slow ass fog on the Cullen’s like it was going to make a difference?

80.   Such…a long…speech

81.   Alice is back yay… took her sweet ass time getting here though. Also, WHY IS NO ONE VAMPIRE RUNNING?

82.   Okay so a summary of the events taking place right now: everything is going to shit. Carlisle is dead (not gonna lie, the first time I watched this movie I lost my shit when that happened) and basically everyone is killing everyone. But obvs the Cullen’s have to win or else what is the point although all logic would say that they really shouldn’t because they have eighteen fucking vampires and the Voltari have like…a lot more than eighteen but hey, Cullen’s for the win

83.   “Aaaaaaaaand it was all an illusion suckers. Fuck you for thinking we would kill Carlisle, we love that guy” – the maker of twilight, probably.

84.   Hey there’s that Brazilian vampire-human hybrid dude that’s going to save the day. Woohoo

85.   Oh, so NOW they vampire run. Fucking stupid ass Voltari

86.   Lol another father-son bonding moment. Easy there son Jacob, respect your dad

87.   Aww look at the happy family on the CGI beach.

88.   And now folks, a recap of the past four movies… you know, just in case you missed it.

89.   Is it just me or are they just making up Bella’s ‘abilities’ as we go along. What, now she can remove her shield and let Edward read her mind. Fuck off twilight people.

90.   Also, AAAAHHHH its younger, creepier Edward

91.   And just like that, the end of an era. So long you sparkly sons of bitches

92.   So…many…end credits. (I do love this song though)

93.   Wait, is Booboo Stewart related to Kristen Stewart? Please hold while I Google this

94.   He’s not.