#the upper crust can drink

[lulublack90]

Prompt 21 - Fur

Wolfstar, January 21, word count 497

Previous part First part

Remus didn’t have time to even get to the same side of the ballroom as Sirius for the first two hours of the party. He’d been assigned the section nearest the kitchen as he was the best at refilling the champagne glasses, and Sirius was at the far end with his parents. Remus didn’t mind too much as he was rushed off his feet. These people sure could drink. 

By the third hour, they were sort of slowing down, but Remus was still busy. He was collecting a few empty glasses from a table when hands slid around his waist, settling on his hips. A smile spread across his mouth as he put his tray down and leaned back into him. “Hi,” He sighed. 

“Hi,” A voice that wasn’t Sirius’s breathed into his ear. Remus froze before he tore himself from the other man's touch. He spun around. It was one of the guests. He’d spotted the man with well-oiled hair when he’d walked in. He hadn’t liked the way he sneered at the girl who’d been attacked by the fur coat. 

“Sorry, Sir, is there anything I can help you with?” He said in his most professional voice. 

“Sure is hot stuff, you, me, room 326,” The man bit down on his bottom lip, dark almost black eyes raking over Remus’s body. “Say in an hour?” Remus grabbed his tray and tried to skirt around the man, but he blocked his way. 

“Sorry, Sir, but I have a boyfriend,” He told the man as he tried to go around him again, but the man blocked his path again. Remus was getting more uncomfortable. This wasn’t the first time a guest had come onto him, but it was the most insistent. His internal alarm was going off, warning him that this man was trouble. 

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” He chuckled darkly. 

“Is there a problem here?” Sirius said behind the man. 

“Sirius,” The man turned to face Sirius, a greasy-looking smile on his face.  

“Is there a problem, Barty?” Sirius asked again.

“No, no, of course not, I was just having a conversation with, er…” He looked at Remus’s lapel as though he expected there to be a name badge there. Remus clamped his mouth shut, he wasn’t going to tell him his name. 

“I think this young man needs to get back to work, Barty,” Sirius moved so he was between Remus and Barty, so Remus could slip away. “Mother and Father wanted to talk to you about a venture your father mentioned,” Sirius added, gesturing with his hand for Barty to lead the way back to Sirius’s parents. Barty grunted under his breath. 

“Room 326, hot stuff,” Barty winked at him as he allowed Sirius to guide him across the ballroom. Sirius looked over his shoulder with an apologetic look on his face. Remus rushed into the back and took a second to gather himself. Remus couldn’t wait for this night to end. 

Next part

[dazedantics]

Mark wasn't the bragging type. At least, not all the time. He has pride in his comic collection, his action figures, things like that which he always talks about.

But when you finally went to his house for the first time, you realized how little you asked him about himself.

He was rich?!?!

Well, obviously not so high in the upper crust since you went to the same school, but well enough off that you were totally star-stuck just by walking through the front door.

You came from completely different worlds! Why were the rooms so big? There was so many of them too! And everything was such a sleek, modern design, inside and out! The windows were huge! And everything was cleaned to a shine! He had a second floor? Even his yard was so well kept! You bet even his garage looked amazing! That TV is huge! Look at that fridge!

You stared at him for a long while after crossing the threshold, gesturing wildly around.

"What?" He laughed out, rubbing his neck.

"You live in a mansion dude!" You declared, following him in. "Why didn't you tell me I had a rich friend?"

"What are you talking about? No, I don't. You're just being dramatic. C'mon, let's get a snack before we go upstairs."

You walked behind him as he rummaged through the kitchen. "Dude, you have a big ol' pantry. That just proves my point!"

A well lit and fully stocked one too. And is that a dishwasher?

"I thought everyone had one?"

"No!" You exasperated.

He handed you a few bags of chips. "Anything you want to drink? We have water, juice, a few sodas ...."

"Dude. Mark. How on earth are we friends?"

"Uh, cause you bullied me that one time then for some reason decided that I was interesting enough to start hanging around."

He turned off the pantry light, closing the door with a few beverages tucked under his arm. "Alright, my parents will be back in a few so let's get to my room before they start pestering you with questions."

You followed him up the stairs and down the bright hall to his door. "That's not what I mean. And I said I was sorry for that!"

He paused, giving a nervous smile before slipping into his room, "W-wait here for a sec."

"And do you know how long we've known each other? Mark, you are literally only a few streets away from me. How have I never got invited to your house? Do you know how easy coming over would've been?"

"Well, I dunno, why would you want to come over? D-do you want to start coming over?" He stuttered through the door.

You could hear the shuffling of fabrics and thudding of a closet door a few times.

Leaning against the wall, you continued, "I just mean that most people do that. Though my parents never used to let me go over to friend's places, so it wouldn't have really changed anything. But my point is that you've been holding out on me! William's been over plenty of times! And why didn't he ever say anything? Is he rich too? Is this really normal for you guys? God, you are never coming to my house. I live in a shed compared to this. If you got a connecting bathroom in there, I swear to god ...."

"You're overreacting. It's just ... new surroundings, you're excited. You'll realize it's nothing as big as you're making it out to be. Okay, you can come in now," he opened the door, beckoning you inside.

His room was spacy, but rather plain compared to the rest of the house. Minimal amount of furniture, posters, plus his collectables. Very representative of him.

You took a seat on the bed as he closed the door, bringing out the supplies he'd been holding for your project. "Yeah right. Gonna be dreaming of this place when I get home, shoot."

He jumped up next to you, the mattress bouncing under his weight. "Whatever. Let's just get started on this. You brought the research papers?"

"Of course," you dug out the folder from your bag, shifting into a more comfortable position before focusing on the project.

You worked diligently for a while, the two of you comfortable as ever before his parents came home. Their laugher ringing up the stairs as they came in. Mark didn't seem to notice though, jolting up when he heard the knock on his door, his mother's face peeking in.

"Hey, Mark? Do you- oh? You invited someone?"

"Mom!?" He flushed, reaching for the highlighters that had fallen. "Don't you know you're supposed to wait a bit before you come in?"

"Yes, yes you've told me before."

"Then?"

It took a lot to not whip your head at him for his mannerisms.

But his mother seemed to take no offense, merely smiling to you in greeting. "Hi, I'm Debbie or Mrs. Grayson, Mark's mom. He hasn't kept you in here all day has he?"

You smiled, nodding politely as you introduced yourself. "Hi, I'm Y/N. And no, I haven't been here too long. It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Grayson."

Her brows raised slightly, glancing over at her son for a second. "Oh so you're, Y/N. Mark's told me a lot about you. If I had known you were coming over I'd have made a nice dinner for you. Mark why didn't you say anything?"

"Because, Mom! It's not that important!" The boy huffed, getting up to usher her out the door. "Now, excuse us, big school project to get back to?"

Watching the two interact threw you for a loop, what was wrong with him!?

"So now you care about your homework?" She maneuvered around him, her smile crinkling the corners of her eyes from the familiar movement. She was a happy person it seemed. Tired too. "It's nothing homemade, but we were just about to call Mark down for dinner if you'd like to join us? Ran into your father on the way home, we got your favorite from ... that takeout place you like."

She addressed the last part to her son.

Mark's tone softened a bit, glancing at you discreetly as if he was saying something embarrassing. "The place that puts the little prints on the toast?"

"Mhmm. We'll be downstairs waiting for you. You got five minutes, Mark!" She finished, her son quickly shutting the door the moment she turned around.

He blew out a sigh. Which quickly turned into slight yelp as you threw a pillow at him.

His head whipped around to glare at you. "What?"

"You're rich as heck, dude! No, sane kid would ever talk to their mother like that. Do you know what would've happened to me if I tried kicking her out like that? Privileged rich kids ...."

Sure he wasn't doing or saying anything as bad as he could have, but even his raised voice was pushing it!

Tossing the pillow back, he took a seat by the headboard. "Oh, c'mon, stop with that," he muttered. "We'll finish up that last paragraph then head down. Then ... I can walk you home before it gets too late?"

"You can't walk me home! My front porch will look like a baby's hut to you. And my family will not shut up if they see you next to me either. Is this what happens when you grow up without siblings? I don't even have my own room, dude!"

He gave you a look, seemingly done with all your exclamations, brown eyes fighting the urge to roll. "You're being weird. I'm sure it's not that bad. Let's just get downstairs already."

"If this takeout is more fancy than something from Burger Mart, I swear I'm gonna lose it. It's gonna be like ... A5 wagyu beef or something, huh?"

Your wild imagination wasn't too far off. The food, though in take out boxes, was definitely from some high end restaurant and still warm as if the trip didn't last more than a second. You were suddenly very conscious of your table manners.

But the family went along as if this was a simple ordeal, chatting casually and laughing.

His mother was really nice and friendly, making the act of sipping some wine -that you knew in your heart you'd never be able to afford- look so dainty and fluidly practiced. Not a drop was accidentally spilled onto her neat blouse or fresh pressed slacks.

She was very put together, jewelry minimal but pretty, and hair tied neatly in a well tamed bun. In the real estate business, she explained. It really showed, in her actions and her house. She was a business woman. You only wish to have an ounce of her grace when you were older.

And his dad?

Well ... okay maybe you were a little scared of his dad. I mean you could see the muscles practically aching to break free from the crop in his sleeves! You had no idea what he did for a living and you're not sure you wanted to find out.

But he was very well kept too. Dressed simple like his son, yeah, but you could tell he took pride in himself. He sat up a little too straight, his gestures firm and steady, smile far too charming, voice deep with a practiced confidence, blue eyes holding contact with whoever was speaking ... a bit too long ... kinda felt like he was staring into your soul ....

He had to have been a model or something when he was younger. One you had seen on a magazine in a dentist's waiting room or something.

Cause there was definitely something familiar about Mark's dad.

"Nolan." He'd introduced himself. Shaking your hand with a grip you were sure could've crushed bones if he tried.

Maybe it was the mustache. I mean, rarely anyone decided it was "the look" nowadays. But he wore it proudly.

Whatever it was that rang so familiar about him, you couldn't place. And you were far too scared to ask.

Anyways, the genes in this family were crazy. Mark literally had the cookie cutter perfection that the families in movies had. Was he even aware of that?

His parents even loved each other!

I mean, sure, maybe you were getting second hand embarrassment watching the two flirt so casually in front of your five star restaurant grade dinner.

But Mark was literally living most kid's dreams right now!

The rest of the night went on smoothly though, you watching the family's interaction with a strage feeling settling in your stomach. His parents even walked you out the door with a smile, Debbie offering for you to come again soon.

It wasn't until the two of you rounded the corner, out of sight from his parents, that Mark began to talk.

His cheeks were dusted pink, brown eyes fixed on the ground. One hand in his pocket, the other rubbing his neck. "I'm sorry about them. They're super embarrassing. All the time ...."

"Mark." You stopped. Standing in front of him, hands on his shoulders, shaking for emphasis. "Do you have any idea how lucky you are?"

A statement you would only find out later would become such a cruel irony.

"You better not do something dumb and get kicked out of there. I will literally have no chance at seeing luxury again if you do."

He laughed lightly, grabbing your wrists to pull your hands down. "Hey, if you wanna trade seeing them be gross every second of the day for whatever you got going on in your life, I would totally do it. Did you get everything of yours? Before we're too far away to turn back?"

You nodded, tugging the strap of the bag on your shoulder. "Just so you know, I am so talking to William about you when I get home."

"You're being weird again." He stated, continuing your walk down the street. "It's not that big a deal."

"If you say so, Mister Rich Kid."

"You know ... you can come over again. Even we don't have a project to work on. I-if you want."

"Are you kidding me? Heck yeah I'm coming over again! I'm gonna slowly worm my way into your life. Watch, your mom's gonna be inviting me over to all your obscure family parties. Imma be in your family pictures soon. Won't be able to get rid of me."

He laughed softly, sucking his lip between his teeth. "Uh ... not what I was going for but uhm ... it's a start, right?"

"What?"

"Nothing. Turn here?"

"Yeah." You continued on for a bit longer before pressing a hand to his chest to stop him.

"What?"

"Turn around, go home."

"Oh, uh, is this your house?" He turned, looking at the building you stood in front of. "It's not that different than mine. Just a little smaller, but nothing like you're making it out to be."

You shook your head. "No. My house is further down the street."

"Then why did we just-"

"Because! You can't be seen dropping me off! I was serious about what I said, my family is probably peeking out the curtains right this second."

"I don't mind saying 'hi' if they're that interested."

"Well I do!" You braced both hands to push him back slightly. "They will literally torment me until they know everything about you."

A laugh bubbled up in Mark's chest as he smiled, taking hold of your hands with his. "Alright fine, you have a few days more until I show up at your doorstep randomly. Then I'll be invited to all of your family events."

"Not funny, Mark."

"Yeah it is. Just a little bit." He teased. "But I'll stay here till I see you go inside, okay? Don't get all stressed about it."

"Thank you." You sighed letting go.

You paused before turning away, head angled to watch him as you walked.

"G'night." He smiled, rasing up a hand in parting.

He was such a dork.

"G'night," you waved back, turning fully around till you reached your house.

When you looked back again, hand resting on the door handle, he was still there waiting. And you smiled, shaking your head before walking in.

At least he had a bit of manners to show for tonight.

But William was in for a long night of chatter on your end once you settled into your room.

[melondecarabia]

⋆˙⟡ frostheim nsfw headcanons 

mdni! 

fem reader 

authors note: i must admit i like kaito. i love pathetic men!!!! also i was drained of my creative juices after leo trilogy pt 2 so i disappeared for a bit sorry lmao

tw: sex! 

smut under the cut! 

jin 

going against the grain here, but for a good reason: JIN IS A VIRGIN!!! he's a hermit, and has severe trust issues! you will be the first one to even see him naked! 

oh he's a power bottom. he gets the hang of things pretty quickly, and starts to command you to give him pleasure. don't worry, it'll feel good for you too. 

i KNOW he gets bored in that room. wait a minute is he a gooner?? pretty much all he does is sleep, smoke, and jack off. now that you're in the picture though, he can just send a text or 'special photo' for you to come over. 

depression lowered his sex drive, but when it starts to get better he's hornier than ever, and WILL make it your problem. however, due to his smoking habits and inexperience in sex, he has only a bit of stamina. 

going with my own delusions: his dick is below average length and size. smallest of the ghouls! also, he doesn't trim much, but there's no need for that anyway, as the hair is short and soft by default. jin with a happy trail… it looks like snow. he's so pale, but the tip of his dick is bright pink. 

if you have a rough day he'll let you tie a bow on it <3 and then tells you to ride it until you're both satisfied. 

doesn't tell you, but he has a praise kink. doesn't even hint at it, but the first time you give him a handjob and call him pretty, he immediately nuts. he wants you to do it from your own volition. 

doesn't own that many sex toys, but his favorite one is a vibrating cock ring. it has a part that goes on your clit too, and jin's idea of a lovely afternoon is the two of you naked, while you cockwarm him in bed. he relaxes in the intimacy of being entangled and a low buzzing to melt all worries away. 

gets insecure a lot. so, here's an idea: sitting side by side on his bed, with a full length mirror in front. he's fully naked, and you're half clothed while giving him a handjob. just as he's about to cum for the first time, you stop, and tell him to name something good about himself. he's frustrated, but knows you won't continue if he doesn't do it. so, he calls himself smart. you tell him that he's very intelligent, and he cums after 3 strokes. repeating the process until he's fucked stupid… he could've told you to stop, but the feeling of pleasure and validation was too good to give up. 

buys you lingerie and asks for a fashion show. he really likes lacy balconette bras and garter belts. also maid outfits. gives you hickies on your breasts and thighs. 

jin is pretty quiet, but grunts and groans when he's close. he bites his lip to stay quiet, and though he's so pale, while turned on there's a shade of pink dusting his lips, cheeks, nipples and dick. like an angel <3 

aftercare? taking a nice bath while cuddling, and then going to sleep. keeps something to eat and drink around his room. while you recharge, he's laying his head on your titty. 

tohma 

he's quite experienced. before transfering to frostheim, he'd hook up every weekend, sometimes even four times a week. after the transfer? his horniness has built up, day by day. you're about to see what that means as his partner :) 

menace!! a dominant top i think. he acts so dignified in public, and you may think he's into bdsm or something. but that vagastrom dog has stayed in him! after babysitting jin and dealing with whatever upper crust bullshit the general students of frostheim came up with, he's out of patience for elaborate setups. if he wants to restrain you, he'll use his hands. maybe a tie, if he's feeling fancy. 

secret exhibitionist. might test cameras that only he has access to by asking you to hold his monocle, lifting up your skirt and eating you out sloppily in a supposed blind spot. and if you're already here, might as well test all of them, right? :) 

not jealous, but possessive. leaves hickies on your inner thighs, and one on the back of your neck, in a spot barely covered by the uniform collar. also encourages you to mark him up, as his body is covered up at all times. scratch his back! leave hickies all over his chest and hips! might lift your skirt under the table to trace his hand on the bruises he left, while wearing a satisfied look. 

favorite positions include doggy style, mating press and just. lifting you up while standing, and using his strength to bounce you up and down on his dick. positions that let him manhandle you, basically. 

his dick is huge, and that's why he's so smug. keeps the hair trimmed, just normal stuff. but the dick is just. a murder weapon. only one that could compete is zenji and he's dead. there's a thick vein on the underside, that feels just right. 

i remember a line of text from the game itself calling his fingers long and you know where my mind immediately went. to prepare you for his backbreaking railing, he takes his time to finger you. and yes, you get prepared! but tohma decided he really likes seeing you lose it with just his fingers. and he keeps going, not even unzipping his pants. has the audacity to act surprised when you're overstimulated when he decides to give you a break. 

into dacryphilia. not when you're sad or angry, but overwhelmed with pleasure. licks the tears from your face while he keeps ramming into you. 

appreciates a good pair of leggings on you… might smack your ass if there's no one around, and squeezes one cheek like a stress ball. 

cuddles after sex, before carrying you to shower. might result in more freak nasty, if you're still capable of walking though. 

luca 

maybe has had sex a few times before? maybe. takes good care to listen to what you like in order to learn more! he's pretty vanilla himself, but open to anything you suggest. 

switch vers luca! he adapts easily, and wants to take care of you. if you ride him, he'll help you move by keeping his hands on your hips, and thrusting upwards if needed. 

luca has a strict training regimen. he never does too little or too much. but sometimes, he has so much energy that a regular workout just isn't enough, and he gets restless. so, he shyly asks you to… 'workout' with him, as it'll help him sleep better. 

gets incredibly embarrassed if you give him a blowjob. might pass out if you show his cum on your tongue, and then swallow. he's a proper boy, and isn't prepared for such things… 

he eats very healthily, so his cum tastes good! gets flustered if you tell him that. 

if luca is somehow a bit too tired for sex, he'll gladly get you to ride his thigh. his legs are firm and muscular, ideal for the job. seeing you soak his pants might energize him though, and he'll go for a round or two. 

he has a pretty dick. smooth, a bit longer than average, with neatly trimmed hair, and just overall aesthetically pleasing. leaks precum like a broken faucet tho. 

gets turned on very easily. you don't even have to do anything suggestive, the man is just full of love, and just seeing you smile has him bricked! 

likes positions that demand strength from himself. it assures him he's strong, so he can protect you. when either one of you is needy, he finds a private place and lifts you up against a wall, and just goes at it while burying his face in your boobs. 

a soft moaner, and constant talker. keeps telling you how good it feels to have your walls clamp down on him. also keeps constantly telling you how much he loves you. 

i don't think he realizes it, but something about cumming inside you scratches a certain itch. he's dating for marriage, and a family. gets horny thinking about your future wedding, and the night that follows… 

aftercare? he's drawing a bath, and massaging any sore spots you have. also, hydration drinks in your favorite flavor! 

kaito 

HES BEEN PRAYING FOR THIS!!!! he's a virgin, and after having his first time with you, he is thanking whatever deity is out there that made this possible. 

submissive vers. whatever you want he wants! would like to be 'strong and manly', but pampering him will have that man in a daze, drooling for more. 

absolutely gets bricked even looking at you. he's in love!!! he finally has a girlfriend!!! 

as much as kaito fantasized about getting a blowjob, he finds it more pleasurable to give you oral. sure, he'll accept if you offer, but he's very eager to get between your legs. wants you to sit on his face and crush him! he would wear a neck brace with pride. 

horny at all times! perhaps not actively, but always ready to go at the slightest indication. gets so excited if you pull him to an empty room, and tell him to lay down so you can ride his face. nuts immediately if you call him your good boy. 

absolutely motivated by jealousy. he's extrememly insecure, and scared that you'll find someone 'better'. 

oh… to have soft sex, while telling him you'll never leave… kaito laying his head on your chest to listen to your heartbeat. chipping away at his insecurities, bit by bit. it's a slow process, but worth it to see him build confidence, and stand proudly at your side. 

bites his lip to keep in his sounds. he wants to hear your wails of pleasure!! if you do manage to catch him off guard (not that difficult), he'll let out a pornographic moan. 

after a round, he seems drained of all energy. but, after only a few minutes he's ready to go again!! keeps going for hours, until you're satisfied. 

his dick is just. average. not longer, not shorter, just average. kind of insecure about that too. he keeps himself hairless at all times. kaito was used to seeing hairless women in porn as well, but even one glance at a natural bush on you? he's ready to traverse the great wilderness, or whatever cringy line he comes up with at the moment. 

he has scented candles ready for whenever you come over. he's dedicated to make any and all sexual encounters romantic. 

loves boobs. and legs. and ass. every body part on you, actually, and if asked about his favorite, he could not choose and would cry. 

aftercare? freshening up, eating snacks, and watching a cute romcom while spooning. kaito feels at peace, and falls asleep pretty soon. 

[sinnabarmoth]

Cheap Taste

Pairing: Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: Sylus's girlfriend is a thrifty person and doesn't exactly feel comfortable with all the presents he buys her.

Length: 3300

Growing up you had never been a big spender. Your family was a thrifty group of people, you weren’t frugal or living paycheck to paycheck or anything. But when you went to a store the first stop your mother ever hit up was the clearance racks, you cut coupons, carpooled when possible to save on gas money. That sorta thing.

When you had grown up and gotten your own place you had carried over a lot of habits. You shopped at thrift stores for clothes, made cheap but bulky meals that provided lots of leftovers for days to come, and made sure to stretch the most out of whatever you had. Rarely did you ever splurge. The only name brands you ever spent good money on were trash bags and butter. Good trash bags don’t rip and quality butter came out in your cooking.

You worked part-time at a catering service and the night you met your soon to be boyfriend you were serving appetizers and drinks at an elegant museum gala. A new wing had been opened and everyone of the upper crust was celebrating in ridiculously expensive gowns and tailored suits. You flitted among them in your caterer’s uniform, clean black slacks, white shirt, black vest, and a little maroon bowtie.

You were carrying a tray of red wine glasses around to offer to guests when someone bumped into you and you went tumbling. You expected to hit the floor and the scattered shattered glass that now littered it but found you were hovering just above the ground, your face mere inches away from a broken wine glass stem that would have definitely gouged out one of your eyes.

Some black and red mist circled your body and pulled you back to your feet. There was polite applause as you were saved from a horrible accident. Staff were already rushing in to clean up the mess, offering apologies for the commotion.

“That could have been bad.” said your savior, placing a steadying hand on your shoulder.

“Oh yes, thank you so--” You turned around to thank him and craned your neck up higher and higher until you finally met his gaze. Not only was he tall but he was broad as well and handsome to boot. His eyes were as red as the spilled wine and sharper than the broken glass.

“Hm? Forgot what you were going to say?”

“Oh uh, yes--I mean no--I mean--” You couldn’t believe now your brain would betray you just because it saw a handsome face. “I just was saying thank you for helping me. As you said, it could have been very bad.”

“Ahem,” your boss cleared their throat, “Thank you for saving my employee.” they bowed their head deeply then turned to you. Heat gathered in your face and you moved to bow as well.

“There’s no need for that.” the man said, crooking a finger under your chin and tilting your head back up. “Would have been a shame to scar such a pretty face.”

You were sure your brain had short-circuited. You couldn’t get a word, not even a sound out. The man smiled with teeth too sharp to be natural and you were tugged away from the interaction by your boss. The man’s gaze followed you until you turned a corner and found yourself in an empty part of the museum.

Your wits came back to you and you immediately started apologizing for the mess. Your boss, who had been so very calm and collected out in front of everyone, you watched as their face distorted into barely contained fury. “You idiot! Do you know what you just did?”

“I’m so sorry. I was just walking with the tray and someone bumped me and--”

“That was a rare $700 bottle of wine you just smashed all over the floor! Do you understand that? We tracked that bottle down specifically for this gala and it is being sponged off the floor with a dirty mop!”

“If it was so expensive then why was it receiving tray service and not behind the bar?”

“That is not the point! They’re not going to pay for it now that no one can drink it. So you can bet it is coming out of your pay!”

“That isn’t fair! If you take it out of my pay I’m not going to be able to afford rent this month!”

“You just be grateful I don’t fire you!”

“You realize rooms with tall ceilings tend to echo, do you not?” you and your boss paused and turned to find the source of the third voice. It was the man who helped you earlier. “Everyone back at the gala could hear how you yelled at your employee.”

“Oh uh, sir,” your boss plastered on a smile, “You’ll have to excuse the volume. You see I was just giving her a brief reprimand for letting the tray fall--”

“Yes. I heard. More of a berating than a reprimand I’d say.” the man glowered at your boss. “And for what? A measly $700 dollars?” he tsked. “I’ll pay for the wine and the broken wine glasses if it gets you to stop yelling.”

“Oh please sir, don’t feel like you have to correct her mistake--”

“I already paid thirty million to create this new museum wing. You think an extra couple hundred is going to put a dent in my account?” he cocked his head. “I suggest you be grateful that I’m offering and leave it at that.”

Your boss went red in the face and nodded vigorously. “Yes. Of course. Thank you sir! Thank you so much for your understanding and your generosity!” your boss continued to bow and with a jut of his chin they disappeared back to the gala.

That left you alone with him in this large empty room. “Are they always like that?” the man asked.

“Only around me it seems.” you sighed. “Thank you for your assistance…again. I’m sorry to have caused you so much trouble tonight.”

“No trouble at all.” he looked you up and down. “Tell me something, how does a woman with looks like yours end up as a waitress? Shouldn’t you be posing for artists or starring in dramas or something?”

Your face heated. “You flatter me too much, sir.” you pretended to straighten your bow tie. “I should be going.”

“Not so fast.” that black and red mist coiled around your shoulders and turned you around again. This was a very powerful evol he had. “I have a proposition for you.”

“What is that?”

“You ever hear the phrase that the best accessory someone can have is the company they keep?”

You shook your head.

“Well, I believe in it. Problem is, I don’t keep much company in others. I’ve been told it makes me…unapproachable.” he flicked his hand and the mist disappeared again.

“What does this have to do with me?”

“Is it your dream to be a waitress for a catering service?”

“No. But why--”

“I can pay you a very handsome fee to be my company when attending functions like this.” he said. “We’ll arrive, mingle, then part ways after my business is concluded.”

“Why are you offering this?”

“Call it a hunch but I have a very good feeling about you. I think we would work well together.” he said with an easy smile.

You scoffed. “I take it your girlfriend does not like these functions, does she?”

“I cannot say what the opinions of a woman who does not exist would be.” he leaned in closer, adjusting the bow tie around your neck. “Any more questions?”

You weren’t sure why but your face grew hot again. “How handsome a fee are we talking?”

“Gorgeous.” he smirked, and with a small tug undid your tie.

“Hey--”

“We can go over more of the details later. For now, let’s do a trial run.”

“Right now?”

“Why not?”

“I’m working!”

“Not for that lousy caterer, you are.” he tossed the bow tie away and held an arm out for you. “If anyone asks, I’m watching over you after your harrowing moment.”

This was all happening so fast you didn’t know how to respond other than to just go along with it. At least for now he was offering you a reprieve from work and the harsh words of your boss. “I have one more question for you.”

“What is it?”

“What’s your name?”

His smile softened, as if he had not expected the question but was pleased nonetheless. “Sylus.”

“Nice to meet you, Sylus.”

“You as well, my dear. Now, shall we?”

You took his arm and returned to the gala. Your boss and co-workers looked at you confused as to why you were hanging off this guest’s arm but you didn’t feel a great need to explain. For the rest of the night you stayed on his arm chatting with other guests. In between interactions he explained more about this service he wanted you to provide. You’d be getting a weekly pay just to ensure that you were free whenever he needed you, he’d provide a suitable wardrobe for high class functions, and drive you to and from the events. And all you had to do was smile and mingle and make him look more approachable to other guests.

He had also let you know that some of these events would take place in the N109 zone and if you were not comfortable going there he needed to know now. The idea first startled you but fell away almost instantly. There had been a time where you considered moving to the N109 zone just because the rent was cheaper but decided to stay in Linkon.

You could remember your first event with him as his official employed escort. An assortment of boxes from luxury brands had been delivered to your house with a note from Sylus telling you when to be ready. The gown he had picked was maroon and silky, rippling around you like water when you walked. You also knew that any dress from this brand cost more than three months of rent were you to buy it. The price of this single piece of clothing was worth more than everything in your apartment! You didn’t even want to think about how much the shoes and accessories must have also cost.

You really were not used to such luxury and it made you nervous to wear any of it. You had seriously considered putting everything away and putting on one of your own cheaper formal dresses but knew that if you were going to an event with Sylus then everyone would be dressed to the nines. You needed to blend in.

That evening a sleek foreign brand car pulled up out front of your humble apartment building and Sylus stepped out to greet you wearing a suit that matched the color of your dress. You tried not to think about how this looked and got into the car. The event went by without much fanfare, you were always within arm’s reach of Sylus so you had a good anchor to keep you tethered amongst all the finery and chatter.

You quickly learned that Sylus was someone whose wealth came from many different places. Some of them legitimate and on the straight and narrow. Others were less than legal. It wasn’t until a couple months into this strange job and blossoming friendship that you found out that he was actually also the leader of Onychinus. That prompted a long talk while he was driving you home from an event in the N109 zone.

“Do you want to quit now?” he had asked after you had finished asking all your questions.

The question had surprised you. For as surprising as the news had been you were sure you hadn’t shown any revulsion to it. “And lose the best job I’ve had in years?” you scoffed, “I paid off my student loans thanks to you! I don’t care what you do so long as I don’t end up in prison.”

He snorted, smothering the laugh with his hand. “Glad to hear it, sweetie. But I have one more thing to ask now that you know the whole truth.”

“And what is that, bossman?”

“Is this just a job to you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he reached across and grabbed your hand. Normally such a move would have had you worried considering how fast he drove but you noticed more and more these days that he was driving slower when taking you home so you didn’t mind. He looked over at you, “Do you think of me only as your boss?”

Your face heated. “Oh uh…” you had been quietly filing away whatever stray thoughts crossed your mind about how handsome Sylus was basically since you met him. Then as time went by and your strange little friendship grew more and more you had developed some stronger feelings for him. You tucked those feelings away with a reminder that he was your boss and you his employee and there was no way that he could return your feelings.

Now all those carefully sorted feelings that you had kept locked away in the recesses of your mind came flooding out. “If I said no, what would that mean?” you asked, your voice quiet.

“It’d mean that the next time we go somewhere it wouldn’t be for work, it’d be on a date. Is that okay?”

“Yeah. That’s very okay.” you interlaced your hand with his, but kept your gaze out the window. In the reflection of the glass you could see him smirk as he brought your intertwined hands up to kiss.

“Perfect.”

And so you started dating your boss and the leader of Onychinus.

And everything was fine. Yep. Fine. Super fine.

It actually was. Your first date had been too a ridiculously expensive restaurant that didn’t even list the prices of the food on the menu and Sylus had bought you yet another luxury brand dress to wear for it. Your closet was quickly becoming a high end luxury store and it was freaking you out. You had tried returning the dresses and shoes and accessories to Sylus each time he got you one but he insisted you keep them. What use did he have for them anyway? He would say.

Despite the decadence, you had a great time with him. But you did plan your next date just so you could get away from all the glitz and glamour for a day. It was a simple date to the park. You had packed a picnic full of homemade food and you sat together talking and people watching. He had poked at a hole in your picnic blanket and asked why it was in such disrepair.

“It’s an old blanket that I’ve used for years. It’s seen better days and I’ve thought about replacing it but it doesn’t really matter since it’s just for sitting on.” you had shrugged.

The next day a package arrived at your house that had a brand new picnic blanket inside. It had a couple actually, in different colors. You texted Sylus and he confirmed he ordered them for you. You thanked him but reminded him that while it wasn’t necessary one would have been enough, you didn’t need a selection.

Really, the amount of money this man spent on outfits you only wore once when you went to events should have warned you want you were in for dating him. As life continued on you found out that Sylus’s love language was gift giving. He had a lot of money and he loved nothing more than to spend it on you.

Some of his gifts were really nice, others left you a bit confused.

You were standing in your kitchen looking at the latest present he had sent you and sighed as you pulled out your phone. He picked up with a sleepy voice and you realized it was still too early for him to be awake.

“Hey babe, sorry for waking you but I had a question.” you said.

“Never too tired for you, sweetie. What is your question?”

“Why is there a $500 juicer at my apartment right now?”

“Oh that,” he said, “You mentioned how it would be nice to have fresh juice in the mornings so I got it for you. There should have been a crate of fruit with it.”

“Yes, yes there is.” you plucked an apple from the large crate. “You know, instead of buying me a juicer you could have just gotten me a gift card to the juice shop I go to two blocks over or something.”

“I can get you a gift card if that’s what you want but you can still keep the juicer.”

“Sylus, honey, I need you to listen to me very carefully.” you pinched the bridge of your nose, “I appreciate that you like buying me gifts. I know that you can afford to get me anything I want. I have liked a lot of the stuff you have gotten me but you do know that for every one thing you buy me that I really like there’s like ten things that I will never end up touching, right?”

“I don’t follow.”

“Okay, take that print you bought me when we were at that open air art show. I really loved that because I adored the artist’s work and I have it hanging in my living room where I will see and cherish it every day. Then take the guitar I pointed at briefly in the music shop window that I said looked cool. I don’t even know how to play guitar! I just have a ridiculously expensive guitar sitting in my broom closet cause I don’t know what to do with it. Do you see what I mean?”

“I’m starting to.”

“I don’t want you to think I want you to stop giving me presents. That’s not what is bothering me. I just want you to be more discerning about what you buy in the future. Something I talk about briefly but don’t have any use for, no. Something I expressed direct interest in having, yes.”

“Alright. I see that this bothers you. I’ll cut back and try to be more selective.” he yawned. “If you make a list of everything you don’t want I’ll have the items collected so they’re not cluttering your apartment.”

“Yes. Thank you so much.”

“Oh, you may want to take any packages coming to your house in the next few days with a grain of salt. I bought those before you called me.”

“For the love of…” you sighed again. “Yeah, okay. I’ll start making a list. You can go back to sleep now.”

“Have my gifts really annoyed you this much?”

“No. It’s just, I’m not used to all this. I didn’t exactly have a wealthy upbringing so when you suddenly started dropping so much money on me out of the blue it kind of freaked me out. I guess I was just waiting to see how many strings were attached to every gift.”

“The gifts are and have always been stringless. I don’t expect anything from you when I give you something, I only want you to be happy.”

Your heart melted, a smile growing on your face. “I’m perfectly happy just having picnics in the park and going to the arcade together, so long as it’s with you.”

“I’m glad to hear that, sweetie.” you could almost hear the smile in his voice. “And you have to know, I treasure every moment with you more than anything.”

Your face was growing warm again. “Okay smooth talker, go back to sleep. I’ll see you later for our movie night.”

“Does that mean you’re going to keep the popcorn maker I got you?”

You glanced at the other unopened package sitting in your living room. “Maybe.”

[lordofdestructionm]

Wick Sable

The odd duck in the guilded cage

Despite this being a feral Mordecai and Viktor account I do occasionally like to dig into the others.

Wick is a character Lackadaisy fans love but don't talk about very much. He just the rich friendly geologist with a love of illicit beverages and a crush on Mitzi. Indeed he is all those things. But I want to dig a little into what may be hidden depth (geography joke haha)

Professional dissatisfaction

When we first meet Wick he is behind his desk looking very tired and beaten down. Forcing himself to keep working late into the night with excessive coffee. Attending to a large pile of paper work for tomorrow.

His expression shifts slightly when he sees the Lackadaisy pins fall out of the envelope and realises the letter is an invitation to him (and his fellow aristocrats) to the speakeasy.

This hatred of paper work and the administrative side of his business is a recurring issue for Wick. Making the reason for his reliance on the capable and attentive Lacy very obvious. Exhaustian and too much alchohol are no doubt partly to blame, but it seems to be something that puts him in a very depressed state of mind.

But when actually on the job, overseeing the hands on work of blasting a new quarry, his mood is much more positive. Indeed he has a very real and sincere love for geology and the nitty gritty work of his business. When he first went to the Lackadaisy he was spellbound by the lime caverns themselves as much by Mitzi's charm.

Its his special interest and he will go on long unprompted monologues on the topic if given the chance. Meaning it is specifically the being trapped in his office dealing with the red tape that makes him so unhappy not the industry itself.

Its almost sad that he is the one in charge of the company rather than in a role that puts him closer to the action which seems to bring him real joy. Like someone who loves cooking being in charge of a restuarant or someone that loves drawing running an animation studio.

They love the product/industry but that doesn't mean they enjoy their specific place in it.

Unimpressed Peers

Despite Wicks enthusiasm it proves not be infectious with his fellow elite, who complain about being dragged out of town to watch something, that while very important to Wick, they clearly could not care less about (even not that quietly mocking him and his love for rocks and construction)

When the evening doesn't go to plan due to the uninvited pig farmers Wick has an interesting exchange with Edmund Church, seemingly the most prominent of the St Louis upper crust in the group. Warning him about getting any more involved with an unsavoury crowd, especially Mitzi, outside of simply enjoying the occasional drink.

Wick doesn't take kindly to the snarky criticism and borderline threat to his reputation and responds with a much more direct statement on his peers sour nature

Tracy has mentioned that Church has a role yet to play in the story and it seems safe to assume from this it may well involve Wick in a less than friendly way if he continues to associate with his "lessers" as Church and the others see things.

Despite needing to remain on civil terms to keep them invested in his business, Wick clearly has little love for them, a feeling that is mutual as they have little respect for him and see him as an oddball, only tolerating him because his talent in his field can help make them a tidy profit.

But while he doesn't appreciate Church's sniping Wick IS concerned about his reputation, but not entirely for his own sake or that of his elitist associates, but for the many people who rely on him for employment, who could be hurt by extension of he gets pulled too deep into the less than repectable world of bootlegging

Romantic life

Outside of the crush he has had on Mitzi since first meeting her at the Speakeasy, we have very little information about Wicks love life before this. Being a handsome and wealthy gentleman from a good family, you would think he would he fighting women off with a stick, maybe even be a bit of a playboy.

Instead you get the impression Wick is pretty far away from being a ladies man. Mentioning to Mitzi that he doesn't even really know how to talk to women unless its about rocks, bugs or limestone.

He is clearly attracted to her and is tempted by her to risk his reputation and by extension his business to get closer to her, but so far his fear of the very real consequences are deterring him from taking that gamble.

Though there is that personal aspect to it, it seems that in a more abstract sense Mitzi's appeal to Wick is not just in her beauty and seductive personality, but in the excitement and thrill of her Speakeasy and bootlegging operations.

In that sense Mitzi represents that touch of danger and excitement that during prohibition many otherwise law abiding citizens enjoyed indulging in illegal drinking establishments. Being* just* naughty enough to give them a fun thrill while being detached from the more brutal blood soaked aspects.

Wick is a good natured person (the worst thing he has done is shoot a duck in his youth which he was forced to do) living a very "respectable" life, but that makes the superficial glamour of the world of underground drinking establishments and secret booze stashes even more appealing. Thats why despite his concerns and responsibilities he keeps going back ,not just to Mitzi, but to the Lackadaisy specifically. It has pretty geography, a pretty owner, and an open door to a more exciting avenue of life

Its for that same reason he doesn't seem to be overly uncomfortable with lovable bi disaster Zib flirting with him at the bar. He may have no intention of reciprocating, but it couldn't be a more different experience to the world he is used to

Even if he doesn't yet want to take the full plunge it all excites him enough to keep him circling the edges.

Because despite having so much going for him there are things about his life that not only bore him but make him unhappy. Whether its piles of paperwork, dealing with much stuffier "conventional" fellow aristocrats and not wanting to be like them, or just a general lack of true passion in his life, he is clearly a man looking for something more satisfying

Whether or not he remains a "tourist" or decides to take that gamble, throw his reservations to the wind, and take a more active role in the gang, is yet to be seen...

Assuming Rocky doesn't set fire to him first of course XD

[bambiesfics]

⊹ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐭 ⊹

warning: water-sports, extreme overstimulation, graphic depictions of lesbian smut, r!receiving finger bang, sarcastic Ellie, fluff + loving at the end.

vague description: reader has a full bladder and is trapped in Ellie William’s hatchback.

author’s note: re-upload of my fic from last blog, also don’t read this in public. It gets intense.

“Pinup paradise diner…home to… ‘The World’s Bustiest Milkshake Jars?’”

You read, with your face nosed deep into the crease of the monotoned map. You deflated back into your seat, irritated at the amount of eye-strain required to make out such small font. And let the roadmap blanket the top of your thighs.

“Is that where we’re going next?”

Ellie's eyes were intently focused on the red Honda Civic in front of her, the one she’d almost rolled her windows down to spit at, less than a minute ago. Her stacked bracelets clinked as she cracked the knuckles of each one of her boney fingers.

“Is that what it says on the map?”

You flipped back to the legend, squinting at the list of diners, drive-ins, and street trucks. The corner of her plump smile quirked, hearing you mutter,

“Jesus, how do you read this thing?”

Your squint jumped between Ellie and the page, “uhhhh…yes?—yes!”

“Then that’s where we’re going next.” She crudely cracked her pinky last. The last finger with chips of black nail polish speckled on it and a snug silver braided ring that hugged it. She settled into her seat, merging onto the left lane.

“Pinup Paradise? Really? Seems like an odd choice for a drink after going to Whopping Wrap.”

You flipped the map neatly back onto your lap as your girlfriend flicked the blinker up.

“Milkshakes after chicken wraps Ellie? Really?”

“Hey—Tommy said they have the best milkshakes this side of the state. That type of man, the fucking lumberjack he is, does not fuck around when it comes to satiating that gnarly sweet tooth.”

She muttered “He probably has cavities bigger and darker than the cracks in the Grand Canyon.”

And your tiny giggle teased a smile out of Ellie, as she half-heartedly blocked the swats you struck at her with the rolled up map.

Your girlfriend got such a fucked up kick out of busting Tommy’s balls, and he knew it too.

She flicked the signal light up higher once more and cruised right into the strip mall lane that led the car through to the drive-thru, the diner growing closer each second.

In a smooth slow crawl you and your girlfriend rolled towards ‘Pinup Paradise Diner.’

A canary yellow, vintage diner, littered with paintings of 50’s pinup models that decorated all of the glass windows.

A drive-thru swinging sign read ‘The World’s Bustiest Milkshake!’ above the order window.

You were incredibly humored, noting all the double entendres and puns that weaved through the slogans graffitied across the menu board and windows.

A young crew member poked her head out of the order window, smiling tightly before asking for both of your orders. She watched on while Ellie fished for her peeling leather wallet in the back pocket, and poked her head out of the side of the hatchback window.

“Hey, can I grab a blueberry crust milkshake? And she’ll have….” Ellie trailed off, shooting you back a look with her eyebrow raised.

“…What’ll you have?”

“I’ll have a vanilla bean milkshake please. Also could I get a bottled water, if you have that?”

“Okay, so right now we only have the 1 liter sized bottled water.. would that be alright?”

“Ah, I’m sure that’s no problem, I’ll take it. Thank youuu.” you sang, and the girl mirrored your gentle smiled. You settled back into your seat and she closed the window.

“Why’d you get water?”

Ellie observed, hastily touching up her upper and bottom lashes with mascara, in the dash mirror, before she had to put her foot on the gas.

Vain. You teased in your head.

….But so pretty.

The mascara made her already long lashes, even longer. Her dark brown eyeliner was smudged, yet the grittiness was still so attractive on her. “You should wear brown eyeliner more Els. It really brings out the green in your eyes.”

She side-eyed you suspiciously.

“Thanks?…”

And you rolled your eyes. Your girlfriend loved to pretend she was allergic to compliments unless they were talking about her earth-shattering service top abilities.

Ellie grabbed both your milkshakes. And used her teeth to rip the paper cover off her straw while passing you your drink.

She put her foot on the gas and peeled out.

“You still didn’t answer the question.”

“What question?”

“The question of what possessed you to buy an entire liter of water?”

“Because like, you know the sweet aftertaste left in your mouth after you eat something really sweet? I don’t know, but it makes my mouth feel dry.”

“Ah.” she responded.

“…that’s actually real as fuck.”

“Right?” You settled deeper into your seat. Hugging the milkshake to your chest while you stalked a few instagram stories, relaxing into the rhythmic roll of your girlfriend's beat up hatchback.

Townhouses and parked SUV’s started running on either side of the car as Ellie drove on, deeper into suburbia. You pushed yourself up to gaze out the window.

“Where are we going?”

Ellie turned right into a smaller street.

“To find a place to park. I’m tired of driving.”

“Hmm, sorry baby” you hummed as you rubbed her thigh. Your eyes lit up. “Then can I drive your ca—”

“—no. When will you stop asking?”

“When you finally let me drive it? Let me behind the wheel please.”

She scoffed, eyeing you up and down. “So I can end up with my knees touching the back of my skull? Yeah no.”

“You’re not funny Ellie.”

“And you’re the only passenger princess I’ve seen whining to do her girlfriend's job. Be a lady, damn.”

You broke down laughing, clutching your chest while Ellie bit her lip down to put a lid on her own laughter.

You shimmied close to her, your breasts squishing her upper arm.

“Then can I have some of your blueberry shake?”

She circled the straw around your mouth and made you chase it.

“uh ah-uh-hah—Ellie.” You whined.

Ellie barked a laugh at how adorable you looked, and then slotted the straw onto your puckered mouth.

“Mmm…”

“You like?”

“Yeah it’s so yummy. I should’ve gotten that instead.”

Ellie attempted to take her milkshake back, but with some struggle as you leaned further and further into her seat, pressing your front body into her arms just to keep tasting it. You were practically finished your own drink, and were now drinking half of hers. And in that moment you recalled at all the previous times your girlfriend had gripped your ass and whispered how you were a greedy little princess in your ear. Ellie was an asshole through and through.

But she spoiled you, and she loved doing it.

You eased back, and Ellie stole her milkshake back. She circled her tongue around the tip of the straw before sucking it. Wrapping her pink lips around the sticky tip your rosy lip gloss had covered seconds prior.

You dropped your empty cup in the cup holder and went to chug most of your water. It provided an indescribable amount of relief from the saccharine blanket on your tastebuds. A cool feeling that settled in you, as Ellie pulled into a grassy park parking lot.

Willow trees lined up along the curb, their weeping pose provided shade to several lots, including the one above you.

Ellie killed off the engine. She tipped her head against the headrest in relief. She flexed her fingers, stretching out the kinks, feeling the breeze run past.

Her head lolled limply to face you. “Do I really look that good in brown eyeliner?”

“Yes you really do.”

Ellie’s cheek dimpled.

“I love when you tell me stuff like that.”

“Like what? That you look pretty?”

You murmured into her shoulder, looking up at her.

“Yeah, makes me feel…dunno, not like a greasy loser.”

“Please, as if I would ever let a greasy loser bag me.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Jesus, kill yourself.”

She maintained eye contact with you, green eyes jumping between your own. Reflecting the amber beauty of the sun in its sparkle. She gave you a soft smile, you gave Ellie one back. A truce to the constant teasing. And Ellie took it as an invitation to dip her head down, and pull your lips into a kiss. One she’d been yearning to do since she’d first reversed both of you out of your driveway.

Ellie chased the kiss into the back seat. She gripped the fat of your hips to inch you slowly off of the center console and towards the back. She followed, kicking her loose driver’s seat forward with the sole of her sneakers. The slide adjusting rail had seen better days, and had been owned by better people than the currently horny, blunt, ungraceful young lesbian who had an avid penchant for violence, that owned it that day.

Ellie teased her hand up from your hips to the base of your neck, to grab the back of your head as she worked her puffy lips against yours. She was hungry for your little mouth, and it was seen in the way her jaw flexed.

Ellie kissed you with a remarkably intense eroticism.

Her hands ran down over the fabric of your milkmaid top before ripping the holes away from the buttons to let your tits spill out right into her hands. Each nipple immediately kissed the waiting pads of her thumbs, as they moved to greedily massage the sensitive head. Grazing each of your puffy tender domes over and over. “Fuck, need to suck these heavy tits baby.”

Ellie’s lips made their way down your chest. She suckled some swollen red marks into the skin, before making her way lower. Coming eye to eye with your nipples.

“Can you please squeeze your boobies together?”

You took your palms and pushed them together. Ellie's whiny sigh sent heat pooling in your tummy. She leaned in, licking a greedy stripe across both nipples, tickling their head with the tip of her tongue, tonguing the flesh around both areolas. And suckling your nipples intermittently then popping off them. Leaving both of them so puffed out.

Your squeaks filled the expanse of her small car, and her aroused groans joined to match.

She shoved her fingers in the waistband of your tiny denim shorts and tugged at them. They budged, but barely, so you helped your girlfriend. You lifted your ass off the seat and slid your shorts and thong down your thighs, before Ellie slid them the rest of the way off your ankles and threw them in the front seat.

The soft breeze blew past your cunt. Exposing the warm skin to a cooler environment.

“S-should we be doing this in a park?” you squeeked.

Ellie kissed her answer on your lips “there’s” *smooch* “no one” *smooch* “here.” As she shoved her hand down to palm the fat of your vagina. Feeling your pussy fill up her fingers. Ellie curled a middle finger into your tight hole, it barely wanted to split apart to accommodate her finger. But she marveled at how hungrily it sucked her in. She pumped shallowly before adding in her ring finger.

Her chrome ring grazed the swelling mound inside your hole; your g-spot. And it pulled a pathetic mewl out of you. She curled her wrist up, ligament appearing. And pumped harder. Enjoying your shaking thighs in the air.

Your brain was melting into mush. And all you managed were barely coherent babbles.

“…feels ss-s'good” your eyes were rolled backwards.

“God bunny…” Ellie marveled, “your pretty pussy’s so greedy.”

Ellie’s teeth dug into her lip “How did I bag you?”

All you could muster were delirious squeak noises in response as you tugged on the base of her ponytail.

“Look-look down” Ellie’s fingers grasped your chin, pulling your eyes away from her flushed aroused face and towards your own shiny pussy. “L-look at how you’re swallowing my fingers.”

Ellie’s forehead knocked against yours.

“Hey…c-can you squeeze for me?”

You never disobeyed her instructions, not when you both were like this. Nodding limply, you clamped around Ellie’s fingers, a choked moan escaped you. And a deep, throaty groan escaped her. Feeling how tightly you suckled in her fingers, how badly you wanted her there, made a warm heat throb between Ellie’s legs and left her boxers sticking to her sloppy cunt. Ellie could almost cry that she couldn’t bully a cock inside you, just to feel that desperate clamp around her cock.

Her ring pushed into your plump inner walls over and over, and dragged a new delicious zing of pleasure through the ribbed inner walls. Puffy, swollen, and sloppy with slick.

Ellie had a newfound resistance in her thrusting, the clamping, warm grip of your puffed out walls were holding her fingers still. But she kept pumping, like a suction cup being stuck on and popped off.

You were assaulted with thrilling pleasure from your walls clamping, chasing the press of her jewelry. And from your girlfriends frenzied, desperate thrusting. Ellie was just as hazy brained as you.

It was a costly mistake. All of the fluttering was stimulating your pelvic muscles. Which stimulated the other tiny hole snuggled in your pussy. The familiar pressure of a full bladder pressed behind the teeny hole of your urethra. Your squeaks came out strained. You scooted into different positions on the seat, trying to ebb away the pressure.

The shifting positions only made it worse as your tummy squished from movement, and as Ellie pumped upwards.

She jack hammered her fingertips against the puffy roof of your warm cunt. Her feverish ministrations put so much pressure on your bladder. You choked out a breathy plea.

Your hands skated up your girlfriend's torso, past her exposed waist and pebbled nipples that strained against her t-shirt, and finally towards her square shoulders in an attempt to push her back.

She needed off.

“I gotta…uhn… I gotta.” you whimpered.

“What was that?” Ellie sighed.

“I-ah!” The thrust felt so good.

You were whiny “th-think I needa pee.”

“I’m fucking you so good it’s got you confusing cumming for peeing? Y’so adorable it’s insane.” Ellie kissed your lips, picking up her pace.

She took the hand she’d used to squeeze and pinch your tits and brought it down to press on your lower tummy, as she thrust up.

Oh.

“Nnnnhnhn no! ph-please ewwie.. can’t—hold it.” You babbled the same desperate plea incoherently, but with a mouth nearly paralyzed from the incessant abuse of your hole Ellie was doing, you were left whiny and gulping, babbling tiny sentences at a time.

Sweat pricked at your skin, an orgasm was fucked into your vagina, and a full bladder pressed at your urethra. You didn’t know what to do as the mounting climax forced against your urethra left you with a desperate need for release, in the car.

Ellie’s lips kissed your jaw, snuggling against your head.

“You wanna let it out, big girl? Make a big mess f’me. We can clean it all up later, I promise.”

“nuh—ah Ellie no no…aghh! ”

Your urethra let out a thin light spurtle. Settling into the space between you two as more slick gushed out of your hole. You sobbed through your orgasm, from the joint pleasure of climax combined with relief from pressure pressing against your urethra. Ellie kept fingering you through each tiny pump of liquid that squirted from your urethra and through each contraction of its sloppy wet vagina, as slick spilled out of you and ran past your bare ass, onto her leather seats. With each aggressive thrust of Ellie’s fingers—fuck in—pull out—came out spurt after spurt, from each hole. She slowed down once you fell back into the seat softly; boneless and glass-eyed. Like an abused rag doll.

You both caught your breaths, Ellie from the aggressive thump and heat in her pussy. And you from your ‘accident’.

Ellie watched as the looming embarrassment creeped every so slowly onto your face, as the orgasm slowly ebbed away. She placed shaky kisses on top of your head. Cupping the back of it in support.

Sure, maybe her car wasn’t the best time to explore that kink. Seeing as the bottom half of her shirt and her belt was wet.

But she wasn’t going to let her girlfriend curl in on herself in shame, just because of her body’s natural reaction. Especially one that Ellie practically fucked out of you.

If not for the small space of the car she might’ve pulled you into her lap, to kiss away the upset creases between your brows. But she could do nothing more than hover above your trembling body, and caress your squished tummy with her free hand, until the shaking eased.

She was breathless. “You did so good, baby.”

You shoved your face into the crook of Ellie’s neck. The sweet cologne on the collar of her shirt calmed you down, with its medley of gourmands, lavender and florals.

Your girlfriend had a way of grounding you. Everything about Ellie had the ability to. From her cold, icy fingers, to her soft, pine scented hair. To her woodsy cologne, always left on the collar of her shirts, ready to tranquilize your unrest.

“nuh-uh I—.”

“—So good. My good girl, doing exactly what I tell you too, c’mere.”

Ellie unplugged her fingers out from your hole and suckled the last bit of slick cream off, then swiped it on her shirt. She licked her lips. Using her now clean hand to cup the side of your jaw and draw you into a heated kiss that left both of you trembling.

You shifted positions in the seat from discomfort.

“You still need to pee s’more?”

“No.”

“Babe…”

“Maybe.”

Ellie reached over and opened your door, then hopped out from her side. Jogging over to shield your body.

You crouched in behind her, her and the car towered over you from both sides.

You pouted up at her, and she glowered down at you. Her arms crossed firmly as she looked away briefly to scan around the area. Before parking her gaze back down at you as the remaining stream from your bladder emptied itself.

“No more vanilla bean milkshakes.” you winced at the feeling of the breeze tickling your swollen labia.

“Of course. Yeah, that was the real culprit. Not the mega-giant 1 liter water bottle.”

You frowned.

Ellie’s arms dropped from their cross, and her black fingernails pinched the fat of your cheek and pulled teasingly.

She reassured you.

“Yeah sure, we’ll blame it on the vanilla bean milkshake.”

[atopvisenyashill]

the two betrayers were always very flat especially when they’re standing next to fucjing ADDAM and NETTLES they simply can’t compare and i’ve seen some grumbling but i actually really like the way they’ve incorporated ulf & hugh. folding them into the story by focusing on the fact that t they’re not just baseborn but lowborn as well. giving them real stakes in the war beyond “cartoon villain who wants power” by giving hugh a family to fight for, to grieve for, to eventually fall from grace for. giving ulf all these insecurities about these stories his mother told him, the way it’s been this dream he holds onto that maybe one day he’ll be drinking with the upper crust if only the stories were true. really digging into why THEY claimed the specific dragons they claimed by giving hugh this amazing moment where all he can do is stand his ground against a dragon and SCREAM in defense of another dragonseed, another baseborn lowborn cousin, and ulf being claimed by silverwing instead of the other way around simply bc she could see the goofy light heart in him and connected it to her previous rider’s love of song. making jace increasingly suspicious and angry over lowborn bastards claiming dragons because it clearly and obviously undermines his own claim as rhaenyra’s child. ulf and hugh are not just treacherous villainous touchy bastards overreaching anymore, they’re living breathing members of the smallfolk trying desperately to survive a war they don’t understand and don’t care about….until they’re given dragons and suddenly two bastards from flea bottom have tangible reasons to care about who wins this war they still couldn’t care less about.

[sevikasmommy]

I didn’t think I would find myself writing again, but the chokehold this woman has on me is too much to bear. So, here is Exotic Dancer Reader and Patron Sevika. Men, Minors, and Ageless blogs DNI.

You've started getting excited for your regular on Saturday nights. She was the definition of tall, dark, and beautiful. Your exact type. Every time she came in for a dance, you would run your hands down those sculpted biceps, feeling the muscles twitch and stretch underneath your fingertips. 

Her lips always twitched into a teasing smirk, her eyes lighting fire every time they raked down your exposed chest. You loved the attention she gave you. It’s so much better with her than with any of your other patrons. She made you feel like the only gorgeous girl in the world. 

You keep your Saturday nights fully open. She always tips you plenty, so you don’t worry about it too much. Tonight was a little different though, something just felt different. The doors to the club slammed open, all the dancers, waitresses, and patrons freezing in their spots as they watched the large woman walk in. 

Your head rested in the palm of your hand as you sighed, her metal arm peeking out from under her poncho. She always knew how to make an entrance. Her eyes caught yours, a small smirk playing at her lips. She had a cut on her upper cheek, and dried blood crusted around the cuts. You could see some bruises blooming on her face and arm.

“Hey there, Gorgeous.” Her voice ran sultry in your veins, making you a little weak in the knees.

“Hey,” you tried your best to sound flirty, your voice cracking slightly, “You here for our usual, Vika?”

You could see Sevika bite her lower lip, her eyes slowly searching your face, then shooting down for just a moment to your cleavage. You chuckled lightly, your hand reaching out to run down her biceps.

“I was thinking about just… talking tonight, sweetheart. Just wanna enjoy your company.” Her smile dropped, almost as if she was disappointed. 

You gave her your most reassuring smile, your hand flowing smoothly down to catch her wrist. “Come on, big mama. You have me for as long as you want.”

Without waiting for her answer, you take her to your favorite room. It wasn’t the specialty rooms you usually had her in, but a destressing room. With low warm lighting, comfortable seating, and a light lavender incense wafted in the corner. 

You took a deep breath, opened the little cabinet, and grabbed Sevika’s favorite with two small glasses. Sevika slowly made her way fully into the room, taking in her surroundings and watching as you readied her favorite drink. 

You smile sweetly at her, drinks in hand. “Go ahead and sit down, love. You know I won’t bite.” You chuckle slightly.

It earns you a slight hum from her as she sinks into the soft cushions. She readjusts a little, the cushions fighting against her movements. “Since when did you guys have… these rooms?”

You shrug your shoulder, standing between her legs as you hand her a drink. “They’ve been sittin’ empty, so we decided to turn them into ‘softcore rooms.’” She accepts the drink, humming at your response. 

She takes a sip and leans her head back against the couch. You could see her chest rise and fall as she sighed deeply. 

You take your place on her lap, shimmying to make yourself comfortable. Her metal arm gently grabs your crossed legs, pulling you a little closer to her. She quietly asks you to take her drink so she can run her flesh hand up your bareback and wrap it around your waist.

You hum slightly, placing the drinks on the coffee table. Sometimes when Sevika gets too overwhelmed with everything, this is how you would find her. Your comforting weight on her lap, her head buried in the crook of your neck. You wished this could be all the time, dreamed every night of being the perfect wife for this woman. 

But you never knew if you were even that attractive to her. Maybe she just liked you because you had easy access to blow off steam. You shook your head, the thoughts threatening to sting your eyes with tears. You concentrated on her shallow breaths, her shoulders relaxing as you ran your fingers across them.

She squeezed you a little tighter, and you thought she had said something to you. “What was that, Vika? I didn’t quite catch it.”

She sighed, her head lifting to look into your eyes, “Thanks for… well everything.” Her eyes were so beautiful in this light, little flecks of amber floating among the dark grey. But, she looked so exhausted.

You sighed, bringing your hand to her jaw. “Of course, Vika. I’m always happy to help.” Your thumb caressed her cheek, some of the dried blood flaking as you did so. You smiled softly, reaching under the coffee table for a small first aid kit. 

Sevika chuckled slightly, rolling her eyes as you got a small gauze pad to put disinfectant on. “You don’t have to do that, Princess. I can take care of it later.” 

You scoffed slightly, giving her a soft pout. “I can’t send you home beat up like this, love. That just won’t do.” You chuckle lightly, watching as she silently twists her head to let you clean the wound up. 

This wasn’t new territory for you. Any time she came in slightly beat up, you were there with something to clean her up with. But this time, her flesh thumb stroked down your hip bone causing slight shivers to run up your spine. 

For some reason, this time felt so much more intimate. You pressed down a little harder, the wound opening slightly. You heard her hiss slightly, her hand squeezing your waist a little harder. 

“Sorry, bein’ a little stubborn. But I got all the gunk off. Let us get some bandages on it.” You smile slightly, her eyes fluttering open to stare at you. You could feel the blush staining your cheeks from her gaze. 

You bandage her up, making sure to be careful and not hurt her again. She smiles at you, her cute tooth gap showing slightly. You chuckle, her head dipping back down to the crook of your neck. 

Eventually, she starts mumbling. How her job is going? How she managed to get herself hurt like that? You stay silent, running your hand along the back of her head, feeling the buzzed hair. Scratching in that one spot you know she likes. 

She stops talking suddenly, her breath coming out kind of shaky. “Can… Can I ask you something?”

You feel yourself freeze up, but relax immediately. “Yeah, Vika. What’s up?”

She takes in another shaky breath, squeezing you closer to her. “Would you…. Would you go on an actual date with me?”

Your mouth drops open, and your brain freezes instantly. “I…. Did I just hear that right? You’re asking me on a date?”

You feel Sevika’s grip leaving you, she grips your wrists to get out of her hold. She’s not looking at you, though. You panic slightly, dropping your hands down to her shoulders. 

“Sevika, oh my gods, yes! I’ll… I’ll go on a real date with you.” She whips her head to stare at you, her eyes searching for something. 

She releases a breath, her chest deflating. “Really? Is Tuesday night okay with you? Around 6?”

You couldn’t manage to wipe that smile off your face. Her eyes shone brightly as she looked up at you. “Yeah, that sounds great! I would love that.” 

After that, you both chatted about nothing in particular. About your lives in the undercity, and how you both managed to get there. 

After a couple of hours, your shift is almost up and the club closes in 10 minutes. She gives you a soft peck on the cheek, chuckling as she sees the blush crawl up your neck. 

“I’ll see you Tuesday, Gorgeous.”

[sophaeros]

the strokes for rip it up - new zealand, october/november 2001 / no. 283 — print version web version

Simple Scruffy Spunks

Scruffy rock stars get all the chicks. Julie Warmington and Kylie Klein Nixon corner the dashingly shaggy boys from the Strokes in London — once at an interview, then at a party — and find they just wanna drink and rock.

Meeting Julian Casablancas is like meeting living proof that rock'n'roll will never die. The 22-year-old New Yorker and singer with the Strokes should be embracing the "now" culture of many of his peers. He should be scrupulously clean, drug and booze free, heading down to Florida for the summer break with a pretty blond on his arm and Basement Jaxx on his personal MP3 player.

But he's not. Rip It Up still hasn't met him. He's in bed, hungover and refusing to get up. He is unwashed, jet lagged and beer crusted. Yay! We don't mind. When he finally does show, two hours late for the day's round of interviews, he's dishevelled and rye. His grin is about as infectious as rabies and he is, quite frankly, sexy as fuck.

"Hey, this is new," notes band manager Ryan Gentles, who’s been sitting fretting in the hotel lobby for what appears to be half the night and all of the morning. He's referring to Julian's tan La Coste jumper, not the attitude.

When we get our turn at the Strokes info trough, the boys are tucking into Thai rice and a round of amber nectar. It's 1pm. Handshakes and suitably half-arsed "nice to meet yous" are flung at us and we wade in.

"New Zealand," bellows Fabrizio "Call Me Fab" Moretti (drummer) when he hears the article is for Rip It Up. "Man, that's supposed to be a beautiful place. I have a friend who went there on an exchange, he said it was really cool." Aww, how sweet, he's heard of us. So when are you gonna go play there? "Dunno," whispers bass player Nicolai Fraiture shyly, "but we're going to Australia next month." Ah, great. Let's move on shall we?

—

"The coolest band on the planet", "the saviours of rock", playing on the catwalks of New York and Paris, hounded, followed and adored. Rumours abound — their names are made up, they were put together by the lead singer's dad (John Casablancas, founder of the Elite Model Agency), they're constantly fighting with each other, they're constantly fighting with strangers, they drink to much, they're gay, they're straight, they're homophobes. Everybody wants to know everything they can. But one thing is sure, The Strokes are roundly agreed to be the quintessential rock band, the "great white hope" of nu-rock'n'roll. They're more than that.

They're five guys who hooked up in high school with a shared interest in booze, girls and guitars. Casablancas (the vocals, wit, sex, and charm behind The Strokes) met Nicky Valensi* (the guitar playing, gorgeously cynical, faux English schoolboy) at New York City's Drake School before being shipped off to L'Institut Le Rosey in Switzerland for some "discipline". It was here that Casablancas bonded with Albert Hammond Jnr (dead pan and wised-up afro with a guitar).

Seems the Hammonds were having the same problems as Casablancas. Neither Julian nor Albert has anything particularly nice to say about the school, apart from adoring it for introducing them to each other. A year later Julian would be re-united with Nicky and meet up with Nicolai Fraiture (bass, stoically shy and sweet) and Fabrizio Moretti (drummer, earnest and excitable, all round ace guy) at The Dwight School on Manhattan's Upper West Side.

When fate drew Albert to the Big Apple via Los Angeles (his songwriting father, Albert Hammond, wrote It Never Rains In Southern California), Julian was the first person he looked up. Luckily the first vestiges of The Strokes had already been formed and all they needed was another guitarist. Albert was their man.

They performed together — properly — for the first time in 1998. There are stories floating around about debuts at Nicky's sister's 21st birthday and seedy bars in the village. Almost all these stories they will admit, are true. So they slowly built up up a reputation until finally getting booked at New York's Mercury Lounge. There they met Ryan Gentles, who became their manager. The Strokes were complete.

The rest will be history, as premature as that might be for a band who have just released their debut album, Is This It?.

So what are they all about? Besides saving us from the glut of pre-masticated pop and souls stifling dance, what are their hopes and ambitions?

Playing music and doing their stuff, by all accounts. Their stuff: a sublime mix of 70s New York City and noughty's savvy. Fashion flash and strep throats, with a smattering of anglophilia to match the op-shop chic. Garage soul-sensibilities and themes as diverse as personal disgust and underage lust.

We discover that Julian always roots for the underdog and doesn't "really give a fuck about baseball," and that the last time Albert cried was "as the plane was taking off". For Fab it was when Nicky's girlfriend dumped him (for the cute one from Weezer no less). At this, Nicky leaps to his feet to sing, Don't Cry For Me Fabrizio, at the top of his lungs.

"The Beatles hated each other, but we love each other," Nicky says. To prove the point they all agree that if they could only take five things to a desert island they would take each other and their manager. That is until Julian demands that one band member opt out so they can "take something more useful like a girl, or our fucking instruments". Just in time Nicky reasons that they can make their instruments out of coconuts and bamboo.

The band is open and unguarded — they want to chat. Chiefly with each other, but it's fine just being around this kind of energy.

Julian F. Casablancas. Nicholai Fraiture. Fabrizio Moretti. Nicky Valensi. Albert Hammond Jnr. The Strokes have got cool names. "I guess we just had cool parents who chose our names," chimes Fab. "My mom was like: (mock Italian accent) 'I think this boy will be a rocking roll star'."

The table then descends into chaos and spilt pints as they discuss the finer moments of Mrs. Moretti's experience. "But," adds Fab soberly, "she didn't know I was only going to be a drummer... she was too extravagant."

—

They take themselves seriously, oh yes. The album, Is This It?, took them one month to record... 30 days. It is the product of their "salad days" gigging around Manhattan and Philadelphia.

"That's why it works so well," says Fab, "we've had a really really long time to perfect the album outside the studio... an album that's who we are as The Strokes."

Who they are is a piece of carefully crafted art that will move you from the groin on out. A record to be cherished for its ability to make you smile and get up. Surely this is the wonder of Is This It? It's rock'n'roll that makes ya wanna move.

After experimenting with a different producer, namely Gil Norton of Husker Du and Pixies fame, the boys went back to their old friend Gordon Raphael who originally produced their three song EP Modern Age. They wanted to cut back on production, as Albert says, "To keep it true to the live set."

They all agree that Norton was great, but not for them. "Doing things professionally doesn't fit with our style," the lax and by now pissed voice of Julian crawls across the table. "If we stay raw it sounds, like... great."

Talk about understated. On the track Take It Or Leave It you can hear this man's tonsils crying out for mercy, you can smell the blood on Albert's shirt sleeves. This ain't no Radiohead mate.

They just wanna rock, and drink. Which has to be admired.

They're so un-phased by the media's insistence on linking them to The Velvet Underground, The Stooges, The Ramones and any number of late 70s New York punk they care to mention. Is This It? isn't going to shatter anyone's illusions about what these boys want to sound like.

"What a cool band to be compared to," admits Julian about The Velvet Underground. He means a band that's beloved and credible, different and weird... not to mention fucking good. "It's sorta a subconscious goal to have music that cool, but actually make it popular... a cool way to make popular music more interesting."

Rip It Up demands an explanation for so suddenly signing to majorinos RCA then. A chorus of oohs and ahhs goes up around the table before the earnest protestations that RCA are the best of a bad bunch. They do look slightly... defensive? Albert pipes up: "It's like being bisexual. Yeah, you get the best of both worlds."

The rest of the band agrees. "They just give us money and stay out of our way," says Nicky, flicking his hair out of his eyes.

Are they unrepentant about signing to a major? "I had the fucking head of RCA on the phone 4 o'clock in the morning," states Julian, "telling me how much he loved the album." Yes indeed.

Why is this not sickening? Why are the credibility censors not in overdrive? Because this is a band pure and simple. Mates who saw the spark reflected in each other. And they ain't that pretty, or well dressed. OK they are, but the point is, they just are. The Strokes were always going to happen thank Christ. A wake-up call for the apathetic. No slouching unless you mean it.

Julian says: "I wanted to make the music sound like it was from 30 years ago, but being heard now. With everything that entails. Do you understand?" If he means pared down and honest to the point of embarrassing, then yes. "Or the other way, like music from the future heard now."

True, Is This It? sounds a lot like it's something you dug out of your dad's wardrobe where the band on the cover are all wearing winkle pickers, whatever they are. There's more though, it's an understanding and knowledge that blasts the naïveté of 60s garage out into space.

Julian's descriptive powers and the knowledge aside, aren't they worried they'll lose this edge? Money, girls and power have wrecked havoc with better men than them. "But who cares as long as it sounds like we want," mutters a very distracted Nicky, only putting his head up occasionally from his magazine. "I mean, rawness, maybe we will want it more produced if that's what we like."

And herein lies the rub. In a perfect world RCA would not through money at these kids. RCA would ignore them no matter how good they actually were, no matter how much they want the cotton wool cosseting of the Big League. The band would have to work, creating themselves every step of the way. Paying their dues and becoming in the end a band utterly worthy of the 'great white hope' tag that has been hung carelessly on their coat hanger shoulders.

Will hype drown the creative spark? The worry is that in six months time no one's going to give a fig about Fab's broken hand, and Julian's dad, anymore than they'll care about any second album.

—

A few days later we bump into The Strokes lending moral support to fellow New York City space cadets, the Moldy Peaches, at their first London gig. The boys are high as heaven having come straight from the BBC where they recorded three songs for the legendary Top of the Pops. "Man," wails Julian, resplendent in pink silk tie and shiny grey suit jacket. "It was so fucking cool. It fuckin' rocked."

Fab is more sedate. "I can't believe we did it, but I fucked it up." Surely not? "I was so nervous I kept making mistakes. I sucked." But watching their performance on the show later it is easy to see that this is a band still on the rise, perfectionism aside, they control the stage, the cameras and above all, the hearts and souls of an audience more accustomed to Shaggy and Nelly Furtado. The fact that they’re on TOTP's at all (their single Hard To Explain entered the UK charts in the top 20 on a wave of passion and media hype) speaks volumes about the music buying public's desire for some Goddamn grunt.

At their epoch marking, celebrity studded, sold out show at Heaven in London, tickets are changing hands for £150 (NZ$500). The after party — the place is in a frenzy. The boys can barely move for the cameras clicking, autographs to be signed and girls hanging off every thread of their thrift store suits.

"I've been trying to get to the other side of the room for the last hour," Julian says incredulously. He's separated from his mates as they are accosted from all sides.

Nicky is posing in a photograph for a fan. Nicolai is signing a CD. Albert is being followed and literally clawed by a young female. It is as if she senses this is her only chance before he gets blasted into the rock pantheon. Fabrizio escapes the seething mass, broken hand in a sling (sadly replaced temporarily half way through their UK and Australian tour with Strokes friend Matt Romano), opting to talk to people outside the guest pass zone.

They have made it, with all that this entails. Young, talented, beautiful, cool and full of charisma, it seems that the rock and roll glitterati is at their blessed rock'n'roll feet. Hype and fashion aside, the music stands for itself. This is what we've been waiting for.

—

*Note 16/03/2025: Rip It Up appears to have gotten Nick and Nikolai mixed up. Julian and Nikolai were the ones who met first.

—

Stroke it

by Scott Kara

It’s nothing new, but God bless The Strokes. The comparisons between The Strokes and some bands from the past are obvious. Remember the first time you heard Nirvana's Nevermind or the Pixies Surfer Rosa and every damn song on the album was catchy –- well, that is true for the Strokes debut Is This it?

Even the band themselves make no secret of the formula behind their success. Julian Casablancas told Rip it Up: “I had this idea to make is This It? (their debut album] sound like music heard in the future, from 30 years ago.*

It's no surprise The Strokes stripped back gargle hails from New York, the home to the Ramones and Television.

At present American rock is known for either nu-metal - Linkin Park, Mudvayne, Limp Bizkit - or the clean and "nice" variety - Incubus, Train, Staind and Lifehouse. So it's a relief to have something as simple, raw and raunchy as The Strokes.

It makes you recall the past golden era of some American bands who paved the way for the Strokes like the Pixies, Husker Du, Sonic Youth and of course, Pavement.

As an indication of the influence these American bands had on world music take a look at Pavement front man, Stephen Malkmus. This low-key, lo-fi singer/guitarist is credited with inspiring Blur's true break-through album, The Great Escape.

Malkmus used to be friends with Blur's Damon Albarn but since Blur "ripped off" Pavement's signature sound on albums 13 and Blur, the relationship has been touchy. Malkmus is also credited with having some influence over Radiohead's OK Computer.

But if the USA has Malkmus and Pavement, then England would argue that they have Mark E Smith and the Fall. And if the USA and England have their patron saints of simple, clanging and banging music then New Zealand bands like The Clean, the Verlaines and Straitjacket Fits can claim some part in The Strokes DNA.

These so-called Flying Nun bands were a huge influence on Stephen Malkmus. "For me it was the years 1986 - 1990 when I was into Flying Nun," he told Rip It Up in April this year upon the release of his latest solo album."I went off to college and got into punk and New Zealand music. It was kind of poppy and jangly but it was slightly underground." What better way to describe The Strokes?

Clean, clang, bang

THE AMERICANS:

Ramones

Ramones (1976)

Blitzkrieg Bop was the Ramones first anthem. Rock’n’roll stripped back to its bare essentials — four chords, catchy tunes and deliciously daft words.

Television

Marquee Moon (1977)

The Strokes could very well be Television. But the difference is, Television played three-minute songs as well as ten-minute songs.

Husker Du

New Day Rising (1985)

Sonic three-man guitar rock. The opening assault of New Day Rising could just as well have signaled Apocalypse rising.

Sonic Youth

Daydream Nation (1989)

If the Ramones were simple, catchy rock’n’roll then Sonic Youth were simple, catchy, noise. Whether you’re sailing Cross The Breeze or riding a Silver Rocket — it’s a trip.

Pavement

Slanted and Enchanted (1992)

Debatable whether this is their best work but it’s what the public wanted and apparently what Blur — and Radiohead to a certain extent — needed.

THE BRITS:

The Fall

458489 A-Sides (1990)

This album encompasses the mid to late 80s when the Fall was at their arty, deviant best. Everything from warped opener Oh Brother! to the jaunt of Dead Beat Descendent.

THE NEW ZEALANDERS

The Clean

Boodle, Boodle, Boodle (1981)

Simple, catchy and child-like. It’s music that became uniquely Kiwi sounding and is a sound that many overseas still associate most strongly with NZ.

The Chills

Kaleidoscope World (1984)

This eight-song collection included everything from the dark foreboding Pink Frost to the rollicking Rolling Moon and the flutter of Kaleidoscope World.

The Bats

Daddy’s Highway

Noisy country pop music you can stage dive to. Their line up read like a mini NZ-super group including Robert Scott (ex-Clean) and Paul Kean (ex-Toy Love).

Straitjacket Fits

Melt (1990)

Shayne Carter (now Dimmer’s head honcho) has a unique voice and shows on Melt his genius songwriting talents. She Speeds might not be here, but who cares.

The Verlaines

Hallelujah All The Way Home (1985)

Graeme Dowqnes (see story over page) is a poet and story teller and puts it to music. He now teaches the rock’n’roll degree at Otago University.

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

*pops from one AU to another for a sec*

In the Deity AU, the Nedzu reveal happens somewhat like this:

The God walks into the office and smiles. "Ah Nedzu, how are you today?"

The Chimera smiles, and stands on the table to great him.

"I didn't know Nedzu could smile like that..."

"Shut up and keep watching, we might be able to get some leverage on him!"

"I'm doing well, and you?" The God sits down, and smiles kindly at the teacup offered.

"As good as someone like me gets to be Nedzu."

The Principal nods sadly at those words. The next few minutes are spent in silence as they drink their teas.

All around Japan people are bored, but some can feel it. Something big is about to happen.

"Now," The camera focuses on Nedzu, slowly approaching, "What was so urgent that you couldn't wait for our weekly dinner..." The camera shifts and focuses on the God of Heroes suddenly.

"Father?"

The episode ends. Japanese officials panic. Nedzu cackles and terrifies his employes.

YES! This!

This happens and it is beautiful. The reveal that Nezu is in fact the son of a God makes people shocked but how it happens?

They are all shocked.

People have been putting Nezu down subtly for years. They dont like that he's non human and in charge of US. They dont like his policies or his beliefs. They outright disdain his actions. He may have the best school in Japan but for the upper crust its a shame its run by him.

Then this: a reveal that Nezu is in fact more or less a demigod. Who humans hurt. Who they put down themselves.

No one sleeps well that night. They're all to fucking terrified of Nezu deciding he wants a little petty revenge. That that he would.

Its more fun to torment them like this.

[star55]

Fic: Connections (Cait/Vi)

Title: Connections Author: Star Word Count: 9,563 Pairing: Cait/Vi Fandom: Arcane (League of Legends) Rating: explicit Warnings: mentions of alcoholism, past parental death brief mention, explicit sex (a lot of it).

Summary:

“You go have a good night,” she says. She grabs the glasses in one hand, and tries not to notice the woman noticing her hands. “You too,” she replies before leaving. Vi can’t help but watch her leave. Her ass is incredible and her mind immediately wanders to dirtier thoughts.

Or

Vi could recognise an Enforcer on sight, even if they're in civilian clothes. She's curious as to why a particularly gorgeous Enforcer keeps frequenting her bar every Friday night, and gets an invitation she can't turn down.

Fanart on the left is from here.

Read on AO3

If there is one thing that Vi can recognise, it’s an Enforcer. Even if they’re out of uniform, she can recognise them like a sixth sense.

When one walks into The Last Drop on a Friday night, orders a whiskey neat, and goes to drink it in a booth all on her own, she’s curious. Vi keeps an eye on the woman all night. She doesn’t approach her, and the Enforcer doesn’t bother anyone in the bar, doesn’t even interact with anyone except to say a polite “not interested” to any men that approach her. She pays for her drink up front, not even bothering to ask to put it on a tab.

The Last Drop doesn’t let people who aren’t regulars start a tab, but for a hot woman with the most gorgeous eyes she has ever seen, Vi could be persuaded.

The dark-haired woman gets up once she’s finished her drink and leaves the bar, and that’s it. Vi closes up the bar and heads home like she does every night.

The next Friday, it happens again, and then the same for the next few weeks, all on a Friday night. The next Friday, the mystery woman approaches Vi, orders herself a whiskey neat and goes to sit in the exact same booth. This time she has some paperwork with her that she seems to be annoyed with if the frown on her face is any indication.

Vi’s gaze strays over to her every now and then, just to check on her, like she would any other patron, and notices the woman staring back at her. She gives a smirk and a nod, and goes back to serving her next customer.

The night gets busy, so Vi isn’t able to glance over at the woman as often, but when she has a chance to look back, the woman is gone.

The next week is so hectic at the bar with the Young Inventors Competition after party being held there, that Vi forgets all about the woman until she strolls in on their very busy Friday night. She can barely hear the order of “whisky, neat, please,” over the sheer volume of happy party-goers.

Vi is surprised she stays. It’s pretty noisy, and most of their older regulars have opted to stay away, but not this woman.

Tonight, however, Vi gets to have a proper look at her. Her profile is as beautiful as the rest of her. She has a strong jawline that Vi can see as she’s wearing her hair in a ponytail. And her clothes scream high class. Vi’s positive that her shoes alone cost more than what the bar brings in over a week.

But she doesn’t judge. She has no idea what this woman does outside of clearly being an Enforcer, or how she spends her free time – outside of the hour or so on a Friday night she spends at The Last Drop drinking whiskey that is probably not as upper crust as what she is probably used to.

As the woman leaves, she catches Vi’s gaze and gives her a small smile. It’s the most interaction she’s had with her and it makes Vi’s stomach swoop pleasantly.

The pleasant feeling turns sour the moment she sees a glint of gold encircling the woman’s ring finger on her left hand as she reaches to hold the bar door open for someone else who is entering.

If there is one thing Vi won’t abide by, it’s cheating, of any kind.

She tucks the woman’s pretty smile and gorgeous eyes into the ‘never going to happen’ side of her brain and focuses again on work.

The next week, however, the ring is gone. Something that Vi notices immediately as the blue-eyed goddess passes over the money for her drink. She lingers at the bar for a moment, like she wants to say something, but then takes her drink and sits in her regular booth. It piques Vi’s curiosity. She also wonders where the ring went, and why it suddenly feels like she has a chance.

Vi has had many lovers over her life. She had a wild phase when she was younger, and it was a new woman every weekend for a very long time. It grew a little tedious for her, to smile at some gorgeous woman who came into the bar, flirted a lot, and had a great night of sex. But after a while, she just wanted to settle down.

So having this beautiful woman step into Vi’s life feels like a sign.

They’ve barely spoken outside of the whiskey being ordered. Very small pleasantries have been exchanged, as Vi does like to provide a welcoming atmosphere in the bar. She knows she’s charming – she’s been told that many times over her life, and she uses it to her advantage wherever possible.

It results in excellent tips and even better – it results in patronage to the bar, which is her end goal.

Vi only notices that the woman is still there when she starts cleaning up for the night. She hadn’t even noticed that the woman had had a guest with her, if the second glass on the table is anything to go by. It had been a bust evening, and Vi tends to get focused when it’s busy like that.

“Hey,” she says as she approaches. “Just letting you know we’re closing up.”

The woman looks up, her dazzling eyes making Vi’s breath hitch in her throat with the intensity of her stare. “Sorry,” she says. She slides out of the booth and reaches for the glasses.

“Leave those, I’ve got it,” Vi says.

“Are you sure?”

Vi nods. “You go have a good night,” she says. She grabs the glasses in one hand, and tries not to notice the woman noticing her hands.

“You too,” she replies before leaving.

Vi can’t help but watch her leave. Her ass is incredible and her mind immediately wanders to dirtier thoughts. She shakes her head – she can’t get distracted; she has to finish counting the till and cleaning up.

The weekend is busy, as they usually are, but what surprises Vi the most is the fact that on the Sunday night, the woman comes back. She orders her usual whiskey and sits in her usual spot. She looks a little sadder than Vi has seen her, and when she watches her pull out a solitary cupcake, Vi’s heart breaks a little in her chest.

The woman doesn’t light any candles, but she slowly eats the cupcake while reading a crime novel that Vi is delighted to note she is also reading.

Vi wishes she had a chance to speak to her before she left for the night, but the evening gets away from her, and she misses her chance. She just hopes the rest of the woman’s birthday (she presumes) was nice.

The next week comes around and Vi is stuck in the stock room, inundated with a supply fuck up. She checks her paperwork, knowing full well she did not order four cases of whiskey. No one needs that many cases. Sure, she might go through one case in a couple of months, maybe one month if the clientele was right, but she wouldn’t order four cases.

She sighs and rubs her forehead, too tired to deal with this right now. She pushes the cases to the side, figuring that it’s a Monday problem, not a Friday night problem, and then focuses her attention on the rest of the stock that arrived that afternoon.

Her day has been annoying. She slept through her alarm, her lunch was soggy because she had forgot about it until two hours after preparing it, and now this fuck up has just been the icing on the cake. Her stomach grumbles, reminding her that she has, in fact, not eaten since breakfast.

A quick glance into the bar reveals everything under control. She lets Loris know that she’s going to have some dinner, and he just nods. He just waves her off and she sighs in relief. She would step in and help if it was necessary but she’s thankful that she can have a small amount of time for herself.

She’s just finished eating, and feels moderately human again, when Loris pokes his head into the break room.

“Uh, there’s a hot woman out here asking for you by name.”

Vi stands up, dusting the crumbs off her shirt. She takes a quick sip of her water and heads back out into the bar.

Where the gorgeous woman is leaning on it, a glass of whiskey in front of her. Loris nods, indicating that this is the woman asking for her.

“Hey,” she says.

The woman looks up and smiles. “Hi.”

“You were asking for me?”

The woman nods. “You are Vi, right?”

Vi nods. “That’s me.”

“I’m Caitlyn.”

Vi gives her a smile. “What can I do for you?”

Caitlyn gives her a sheepish look. “I’m hosting a party and I may have put down this address as the place to deliver a few cases of whiskey to?”

“…A few?” she repeats. She leans on the bar, getting a little closer to Caitlyn. Her nose crinkles adorably and Vi just wants to kiss it.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask,” Caitlyn says. “I just can’t get them delivered to work, and my house is off limits. I should have asked, I’m sorry.”

Vi pushes herself up off the bar. “Why do you need that many cases for anyway?”

“Gifts,” Caitlyn replies. “One bottle each for members of my staff.”

“Damn,” Vi says with a low whistle. “Your staff must love you.”

Caitlyn gives a small smile and shakes her head. “Oh, they hate me,” she replies breezily. “But the alcohol sure helps. I’m the Sheriff of Piltover, the hate comes with the territory.”

Vi snorts, unable to stop herself. “Well, I have three extra cases in my stockroom right now that I absolutely did not order. I’m guessing those are yours?” She feels triumphant for a moment at picking Caitlyn’s profession correctly.

Caitlyn nods. “That would be correct. I’ll compensate you for the trouble, of course.”

Vi waves her off. “It’s alright, Cupcake,” she says. “There’s room out there.”

“Cupcake?” Caitlyn asks.

Vi smirks. “Yeah, because you’re sweet, like a cupcake.”

The absolutely loaded look Caitlyn gives Vi makes her throb with want.

“Nah, it’s because you were eating that cupcake by yourself the other day,” she admits. “I couldn’t just keep calling you ‘the hot woman’ in my head now, could I?”

Caitlyn licks her lips. She opens her mouth, undoubtedly to say something when they’re interrupted.

“Boss,” Loris’ voice says, cutting through Vi’s thoughts.

“Sorry, Cupcake, duty calls. We’ll talk later about that whisky.” She sees Caitlyn’s soft smile before she takes her drink and goes to sit in her usual spot.

Vi quickly gets lost in the rhythm of work, serving people their drinks, ignoring the very obvious flirting women.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to come home with me?” a very busty woman whose name Vi hasn’t heard yet asks.

“Sorry,” she says. “I don’t go home with women whose names I don’t know.” She can see that the woman is about to give it to her, but she’s quickly saved by Loris who flags her down to come to his side of the bar.

Vi exhales and gives Loris a nod, taking over what he was doing.

The bar is doing exceptionally well tonight, and it’s making Vi happy. The bar is a beloved local favourite, but it always warms her heart whenever new people find their way here. It’s what her dad would have loved when he was alive.

She turns to his framed photograph that is up on the wall, tucked out of sight by most of the regular patrons, but Vi and her staff know it’s there. She gently touches the frame and whispers an ‘I love you, Dad’ to it before turning back around to serve whoever is next in line.

As the night goes on, it gets a little rowdier than Vi likes. She sees Loris nod his head towards a crowd of three men getting a little louder than the rest of the noise of the bar.

Even though Loris is bigger than she is, and he could easily scare the men into leaving, it’s her bar, and she knows she could take all of these men if it came to it. And Loris would have her back. But she hopes it doesn’t come to that.

“Hey, guys,” she says approaching their booth. It’s close to Caitlyn’s and she chances a glance her way to make sure she’s not being disturbed, grateful to find she isn’t. She is watching Vi, however, so that’s something she files away for later. “I’m cutting you off. I think it’s time for you all to pay your tab and leave.”

Guy One looks at her and snorts, shaking his head. “We’re having fun, aren’t we? Leave us be.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to insist you leave,” she says evenly. She knows her hard tone works on the other two but Guy One seems to be taking issue with her.

He stands up. He towers over her physically, but Vi has never been intimidated by a man, and she isn’t going to start now.

“Says who?” he demands.

“Me. I’m the owner, so move along.”

“C’mon, man, it isn’t worth it,” Guy Two says. He slides out of the booth, and Guy Three follows him.

“Nah, man, I’m not letting some little woman tell me what to do,” Guy One says.

“Tell you what, let’s arm wrestle for it,” Vi says. She nods at the table and Guy One blinks. “If you win, you can stay for the rest of the night, drinks on me. But if you lose, you give my friend Loris over there a nice big tip and you leave.”

Guy One looks at her, smirks, and nods. He sits back down, rolling up the sleeve of his shirt.

Vi shucks off her jacket, draping it over the back of the booth and cracks her knuckles. She rolls her shoulder before sitting across from him.

She flexes her fingers and they join hands. She nods to Guy Two. “Count us in.”

He does so and on one, Guy One really goes for it. Vi’s arm doesn’t budge. The veins in his temple bulge and his mouth opens in a grimace. But Vi’s arm doesn’t even move an inch. When she sees his exhaustion settling in, she quickly and easily slams his hand into the table.

“Ouch!” he exclaims, flexing his arm once she has released his grip.

“That tip will be double your nightly tab,” Vi says cooly, standing up. She nods towards Loris, who has undoubtedly been watching their entire exchange. At a glance, it looks like the entire bar has been watching their entire ordeal.

She nods at Guys Two and Three and grabs her jacket, walking back behind the bar. She tucks it out of sight, hoping she won’t forget it before she makes her way home as it’s meant to be a cool night.

The men pay their tab, and give Loris the tip before leaving. There are some cheers around the bar as the door closes behind them but Vi pays it no mind.

“I’m taking ten,” Vi says, patting Loris on the shoulder as she walks past. She grabs a water from the fridge and takes a long swig before screwing the cap back on. She shakes her shoulders out and stretches her arms above her head.

She takes a lap around the break room, trying to shake off her excess energy.

The need for a fight and a drink like she used to when she was younger creeps up in her veins. She does some jumps on the spot, punches the air a few times and tries to focus on the fact that she doesn’t need that anymore. Same with the alcohol. Some people find it strange that a recovering alcoholic would choose to own, and run a bar, but it was her dad’s, and she gets to honour his memory every single day by working here.

And when the urge to drink gets a little strong, she finds herself in an alcoholics anonymous meeting, seeking the support of those who understand it.

She does a mental check of herself. She doesn’t feel the urge to drink, so she takes a relieved breath at that. The need for a fight has dissipated somewhat. But the buzzing under her skin makes Vi want a good night of sex. She knows masturbating won’t solve that itch, but skin on skin contact with someone else usually helps.

But she figures that by the end of the night, that will have disappeared, too. Especially with how tired she feels, and how busy this week has been. She’s grateful she has the weekend off. She just wants to curl up with her book – she’s dying to know what happens next.

The night wears on, and as she’s cleaning up, Vi notices that Caitlyn has remained. She wanders over to her booth and taps two fingers on the surface of the table.

“We’re closing up, Cupcake,” she says. “Want me to call you a ride?”

Caitlyn shakes her head. “Actually,” she says as she slides out of the booth, standing in front of Vi. She’s a few inches taller, forcing Vi to look up at her. “I was wondering if you were free tonight?”

Vi cocks her head, curious. “Maybe? What for?”

Caitlyn licks her lips, her gaze darting down to Vi’s mouth. “Well,” she says. “I was hoping you could take me home.”

Vi is impressed with how forward she is. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” Caitlyn repeats with a nod. “I have… I was watching you earlier. And, well. I’ve always loved a strong woman.”

Vi smirks. “Noted,” she says. “Give me ten minutes to lock up? I have an apartment upstairs so we don’t have to go far.”

Caitlyn gives her a heated glance. “I’ll just sit back down then.”

Vi nods and leaves her to it. She tells Loris he can go, and she makes quick work of locking away that evening’s earnings, and the front doors. Once everything is secure, she crosses the room back to Caitlyn and is pleasantly surprised when Caitlyn stands quickly.

“Shall we?”

She holds out her hand and Caitlyn takes it, lacing their fingers together like it’s completely normal. Vi gives her hand a gentle squeeze and leads her up the stairs.

“Sorry that it’s a bit of a mess,” Vi says as she unlocks the door. She turns on a few lamps, casting the living area in a soft glow. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

“It’s quite alright,” Caitlyn replies. “It feels very… you.”

Vi smiles. “It’s not much, but, yeah, it’s me.” She turns to face Caitlyn again. “Can I get you a drink?” she asks.

Caitlyn shakes her head. She shrugs off her jacket and drapes it over the back of Vi’s sofa. “After seeing that impressive display of strength downstairs,” she begins. “I suddenly want you to fuck me against that wall. It is sturdy enough, isn’t it?”

Vi’s mouth goes dry. “Uh, yeah,” she says. “Shit, you just say what you want, don’t you?”

The smirk Caitlyn gives her makes Vi’s toes tingle. “I see no point in beating around the bush, so to speak.”

Vi laughs and closes the distance between them. She cups Caitlyn’s face in her hands and kisses her swiftly. Caitlyn immediately kisses her back and it’s everything Vi thought it was going to be. Her tongue is confident in Vi’s mouth, and her soft breathy sighs are really doing it for her.

Vi all but presses her into the wall, moaning into Caitlyn’s mouth as her tongue does something particularly wonderful.

Caitlyn’s hands slide up the back of Vi’s tank top, feeling her skin. Her hands move upwards in slow, sure movements until Vi’s shirt is bunched up under her arms. She steps back and pulls it up off over her head in one swift movement, tossing it behind her.

“Wait,” Vi says, pulling back. She hates that she’s interrupting this, but if she doesn’t say it, it’ll play on her mind all night.

“What?” Caitlyn asks breathily. Her chest is heaving and Vi really, really just wants to get her mouth on her breasts, but she forces herself to focus.

She picks up Caitlyn’s left hand, where there is no gold band like there was a few weeks ago. “You’re not with someone, are you? I could’ve sworn I saw a wedding ring here a few weeks ago.”

Caitlyn gives her a soft smile. “I assure you that I am not cheating,” she replies. “I promise I’d never do that.”

Vi nods, believing her. She kisses Caitlyn’s hand and goes to kiss her again but Caitlyn gently stops her. While keeping eye contact with Vi, she undoes the buttons on her crisp white blouse, revealing the fact that she’s very much braless underneath. Vi can’t help it – she stares. Caitlyn really has the most perfect breasts she’s ever seen. And she has pierced nipples. Vi’s mouth waters at the sight.

“Can I?” she asks and Caitlyn nods.

Vi dips her head, taking a nipple into her mouth. Caitlyn’s noises are soft but encouraging. Vi closes her eyes, losing herself the sounds Caitlyn is emitting. She thumbs over the other nipple, feeling it get hard under her touch. She switches after a few moments, eager to get her mouth on that one as well.

Caitlyn’s hand fists her hair, tugging at the strands. She moans against Caitlyn’s skin, encouraging her to do that again. Caitlyn complies, tugging a little harder.

“Shit,” Vi says as she pulls back. “Fuck, your tits are amazing.”

Caitlyn gives her a dopey smile. “Thanks,” she says. “Now, do you have a strap on hand?”

Vi nods. “Yeah,” she says. “Yeah, just. What size?”

“Medium to big,” Caitlyn replies. “I still want to feel you come morning.”

Vi crushes their lips together once more, unable to stop the visuals that brings to mind. “I’ll be a minute. Why don’t you take off those pants and get ready for me.”

She doesn’t move, watching as Caitlyn unzips her trousers. She licks her lips as she watches as Caitlyn slides them down her legs.

“You’d better get that strap,” she says coolly, “or I’m starting without you.”

Vi isn’t ashamed to admit she whines. She hastily goes into the bedroom, opening one of the drawers in the bedside table. She pulls out the harness and her favourite bright blue dildo. She makes quick work of taking the rest of her clothes off and securing the harness on her body. She quickly swipes some lubricant over the toy and makes her way back to where Caitlyn is leaning against the wall. Her hand is between her legs, fingering herself, and Vi almost trips over air in her haste to get to her.

Caitlyn lets out a soft moan when Vi gently takes her hand from between her legs. She licks Caitlyn’s fingers clean, taking extra care to suck on the tip of her middle finger. She nips at it before sinking to her knees in front of Caitlyn.

“I know you want the strap,” Vi starts, “but I think I’m going to go crazy if I don’t taste you.”

“By all means,” Caitlyn says with far more confidence than Vi thinks she should have.

She gently places one of Caitlyn’s legs over her shoulder and presses a kiss to her neatly trimmed pubes. Caitlyn’s arousal fills her senses as Vi parts her folds with her tongue. She wants to know if Caitlyn will scream for her.

Caitlyn’s hand quickly fists itself in Vi’s hair, keeping her pressed close as Vi eats her out. She pays close attention to the noises Caitlyn makes – repeating movements that make Caitlyn’s breathy sighs fill the room.

She dips her tongue into Caitlyn’s entrance, savouring the way her taste coats her mouth. Vi presses closer, her hands coming to Caitlyn’s ass, encouraging her to rock against Vi’s tongue. Caitlyn takes the hint, her hips rolling. Vi moans, losing herself in the moment. She flicks her tongue over Caitlyn’s clit, eliciting another breathy sigh from her. She sucks the nub into her mouth, tongue flicking rapidly over it.

Caitlyn’s hips shudder as she comes, her wetness soaking Vi’s mouth. She takes her time licking Caitlyn clean, enjoying the noises coming from her.

Caitlyn’s hand loosens in Vi’s hair before letting go completely. She turns her face, pressing a hot kiss in the crook of Caitlyn’s leg before lowering it down to the ground.

“You good, Cupcake?” she asks.

Caitlyn nods. “Mmhmm,” she replies. Her eyes are closed and her lips are shining in the low light. “Kiss me.” Her eyes open and they look so much more intense after an orgasm, Vi thinks. She leans forwards, kissing Caitlyn thoroughly, one forearm bracing on the wall besides Caitlyn’s head.

Vi can’t help but moan when she realises that Caitlyn is, essentially, sucking her taste off Vi’s tongue. She automatically thrusts forwards, the toy bumping awkwardly between them.

“Are you going to fuck me with this now?” Caitlyn asks breathily. She looks between them, taking the toy in her hand. “It’s a good size.”

Vi smirks. “Yeah, it’s a personal favourite.”

Caitlyn licks her lips and pulls Vi forwards with one hand on her hip, guiding the toy between her legs with the other. “Put that strength to use already.”

“As you wish,” Vi replies. She hoists Caitlyn up, eliciting a startled surprise from her. Her legs are quick to wrap around Vi’s waist, her ankles hooking behind Vi.

Vi takes a moment to guide the dildo into Caitlyn’s entrance, making sure to go slow enough so she can adjust to it.

“You can just fuck me,” Caitlyn says. “I’m more than ready for it.”

So Vi complies. She thrusts forwards and Caitlyn’s head tips back, hitting the wall behind her.

“Oh fuck,” she moans. Vi lowers her head and kisses down the side of Caitlyn’s neck, moving her hips the entire time. She keeps up a steady rhythm, enjoying the moans falling from Caitlyn’s lips.

She loves that as they go on, the more noises fall from Caitlyn. She shifts her angle just so and Caitlyn’s hand grabs at Vi’s back hard. She nips at Caitlyn’s neck and thrusts forwards again. Caitlyn moans a little more. Vi keeps up her steady pace, watching Caitlyn’s expression change as she nears her orgasm.

“Oh fuck,” Caitlyn repeats. “There, right there.” Vi slips a hand between them, her thumb rubbing over Caitlyn’s clit as she keeps thrusting inside of her. Caitlyn’s noises grow a little more and Vi relishes in it. Caitlyn’s legs tighten around Vi’s waist as her orgasm gets closer, and after a few more thrusts, she’s coming, clinging hard to Vi as her body trembles with the force.

Vi keeps her pressed into the wall. She trails kisses over Caitlyn’s sweat slicked skin, savouring the way she tastes. Caitlyn’s legs flex around Vi’s waist and her hand slides into Vi’s hair. She pulls until their lips meet in a heated kiss. Vi moans into Caitlyn’s mouth when Caitlyn’s fingers gently tug at one of her nipples.

“Do you have a bed?” Caitlyn asks softly.

Vi nods. She gently lowers Caitlyn to the ground and takes pride in the fact that Caitlyn’s legs wobble as she tries to regain her footing.

“Go lie on your back, I want to ride you,” Caitlyn says and Vi just nods again, leading her into the bedroom. The bedroom, thankfully, isn’t messy. She had washed the sheets earlier in the week, so she feels comfortable enough having Caitlyn in here.

She settles on the bed, her gaze unable to leave Caitlyn.

She shouldn’t be surprised, but she is when instead of Caitlyn lowering herself onto the proudly standing toy, she sucks it instead. Vi moans like she can feel Caitlyn’s lips wrapped around the toy.

Their gazes lock and Vi wants to bury herself inside Caitlyn. She doesn’t care where, she just wants it. She also wants to come, but she thinks she can hold off while Caitlyn fucks herself on Vi.

As if reading her mind, Caitlyn sits up. She leans over, kisses Vi once before reaching between her legs to spread her folds. She lines the toy against her entrance and sinks down in one fluid movement. They both go completely still.

Then Caitlyn starts moving her hips in little movements. Her eyes are closed again, and one of her hands goes to her breast, toying with her piercing.

Vi quickly brings her knees up, effectively thrusting into Caitlyn a little harder. It also has the added benefit of making Caitlyn fall forward, her hands bracing themselves on either side of Vi’s head. Vi thrusts up into Caitlyn, watching as her mouth falls open in a silent moan.

She holds Caitlyn’s hip with one hand and brings the other up to play with her nipple piercing. Caitlyn surges forwards, kissing her hotly. Vi kisses back, but doesn’t stop playing with Caitlyn’s nipple.

From this angle, Caitlyn’s thrusts back are pressing the base of the dildo against Vi’s clit in the most perfect way. She knows she’s close, desperate for release.

She playfully slaps Caitlyn’s ass, receiving a heated look and a particular hard thrust downwards in return. She grins and does it again. The angle is perfect, and if Caitlyn keeps going the way she’s going, Vi is going to come before she does.

One of Caitlyn’s hands comes to rest on Vi’s chest. Her eyes are closed, her face one of absolute bliss as she fucks herself on the toy. Vi meets her thrust for thrust, enjoying watching Caitlyn fall apart like this.

The rubbing against her own clit sends her over the edge just as Caitlyn starts to come. Their bodies both tremble and Caitlyn collapses against Vi, panting heavily. Vi wraps her arms around Caitlyn’s sweaty back and just breathes. She can feel Caitlyn’s heartbeat thudding against her chest, sure that her own is doing the same.

Vi shifts, and Caitlyn moans. It’s louder this time.

She stays on top of Vi, a blissed out mess, and Vi just slowly thrusts up into her.

“More,” Caitlyn mumbles, her lips dragging against Vi’s neck where her face is pressed. Vi complies, thrusting up into her. Caitlyn’s little whimpers of pleasure are intoxicating.

She reaches down behind Caitlyn, feeling her stretching around the toy. She’s absolutely soaking wet. Vi can’t help but moan at the feel of absolutely everything. Her fingers trail up Caitlyn’s backside, and Caitlyn’s hips buck back into her hand.

She keeps up a steady rhythm, thrusting into her while she pants against Vi’s neck. Vi’s middle finger circles around Caitlyn’s butthole, enjoying the way Caitlyn shivers against her.

Her next orgasm isn’t as strong as the other ones. Her body shakes where she’s still collapsed on top of Vi, her breathing heavy against Vi’s neck. Her lips press slow, sleepy kisses to Vi’s skin.

A moment later, Caitlyn is raising herself up onto her arms. “Give me a minute and I’ll return the favour,” she says. She pulls off Vi, the dildo absolutely coated in her wetness. She collapses on the bed next to Vi, her chest heaving. She’s sweat soaked and what Vi can only describe as glowing in the dim light of the room.

“I’m good, Cupcake,” Vi replies.

Caitlyn turns her head and gives Vi a look. “One orgasm to my four is not ‘good’,” she says. She reaches between them and laces their fingers together. “I just need to catch my breath.”

Vi smiles. She leans over, kisses Caitlyn’s shoulder and gets up off the bed. “You stay there, I’ll go get some water.” Caitlyn just nods, waving her off.

“Don’t take the strap on off,” Caitlyn calls after her and Vi just chuckles. She quickly grabs two bottles of water and unscrews the caps on both. She takes a long drink of one before heading back into the bedroom.

“Here,” she says, passing the other bottle to Caitlyn. “I’ll be right back.”

Caitlyn just holds the cold bottle against her forehead without drinking it and Vi wanders into the bathroom. She grabs a wash cloth and turns the water on warm, soaking the soft fabric. She returns to the bedroom and is pleased to see Caitlyn drinking the water.

“May I?” she asks, nodding to Caitlyn’s crotch.

“Kinky,” Caitlyn teases, but her legs part all the same. She hisses at the contact as Vi cleans her up. Her pussy is all wet and a bit swollen from her many orgasms, but Caitlyn hasn’t complained about the pain, so Vi figures she’s alright.

She returns the cloth to the bathroom and uses another to clean the dildo. She returns to the bedroom a moment later, watching Caitlyn who is watching her. She’s resting on her elbows and her brow furrows.

“What?” Vi asks.

“Maybe you should take that off for a bit,” Caitlyn comments. “I can’t exactly eat you out if that’s on.”

Vi chuckles. She unbuckles the harness, shimmying out of it, putting it on top of the bedside drawers next to her. “Bon appetite,” she says.

Caitlyn swats at her. “That was tacky,” she says, but she’s smiling. Vi grins and grabs at her hips, pulling her so they’re flush against each other.

Caitlyn’s lips are soft as they kiss, and Vi can’t believe how much she wants. It seems that Caitlyn can feel it, too, as she’s kissing her way down Vi’s body, sucking on her nipples and leaving little bites as she goes.

Her tongue swirls around each of Vi’s abs, humming the lower she gets down Vi’s body. She nudges Vi’s legs apart and settles between them.

“Anything you don’t like?” Caitlyn asks, her breath hot over Vi’s dripping pussy.

“Minimal teeth,” Vi replies.

“Good to know,” is all Caitlyn says before her lips are pressing right over Vi’s clit. She sucks hard and her tongue moves faster than Vi thinks it has a right to. Her orgasm hits her quickly and her legs fall open even further. “That’s a good girl,” she whispers and Vi’s pussy drips at it.

Caitlyn takes her time now, slowly licking Vi, dipping in her entrance before circling her clit again. Vi relaxes against the pillows, her eyes closed, letting the sensations wash over her. One of Caitlyn’s long fingers slides into her and crooks just so making Vi clench around her. She slowly fucks her with one finger while sucking on her clit with the other.

“More,” Vi moans, one hand coming to play with her own nipples.

Caitlyn looks up and the sight of her between Vi’s legs is almost too much. She reaches down with her free hand and gently cups the back of Caitlyn’s head. Caitlyn takes it as the encouragement it was meant as and doubles her efforts.

She has three fingers inside of Vi, thrusting steadily. Her eyes are closed as she licks Vi’s clit before sucking it back into her mouth. She hums against Vi and Vi’s fingers tighten in her hair.

This orgasm is bigger. It’s been steadily building since Caitlyn slid a finger into her. Her breathing is heavy and her hand slides out of Caitlyn’s hair to grip tightly at the sheets.

“Cait,” she moans. “There, right there!”

Caitlyn’s fingers thrust a little harder, her moans against Vi’s clit tipping her over the edge. She can feel herself gush over Caitlyn’s fingers as she comes. She collapses against the bed, breathing heavily.

“Fuck,” she says on a whimper as Caitlyn’s fingers slide out of her. She glances down to see Caitlyn licking her fingers, her gaze locking on Vi’s. “Fuck,” she repeats.

“I didn’t realise you were a squirter,” Caitlyn comments, her tone sounding proud.

“Only sometimes,” Vi mumbles. She’s exhausted in the best way possible. But her skin is still buzzing with need. “I’m going to have to change the sheets.”

Caitlyn’s body slides up next to hers and she kisses the side of Vi’s neck. Her fingers trace over Vi’s stomach before slipping back between her legs, circling slowly over her clit. “Or it could wait.”

The moan that escapes Vi is soft and breathy. Caitlyn’s fingers are sure, working Vi into another, weaker orgasm. She shudders through it, feeling more liquid between her legs.

“Ugh,” she mumbles. “Now I really need to change the sheets.”

Caitlyn smiles at her, and it is a gorgeous smile that Vi could get lost in. “How about we shower first?”

Vi nods. She stands on shaky legs and follows Caitlyn into the bathroom. The stall isn’t the biggest, but they both fit comfortably.

Vi should have realised that it was going to turn from getting clean to having sex. She’s on her knees in front of Caitlyn before she even thinks about it. Caitlyn is hot against her mouth, and her moans fill the bathroom in the most beautiful way. She ruts against Vi’s face, one hand firmly in her hair. She comes with a shudder, tugging Vi’s hair as she does, and it makes Vi moan against her. She licks Caitlyn clean before standing, bracing her arms on either side of Caitlyn’s head on the slick tiled wall.

Their moans fill the bathroom as Caitlyn kisses her thoroughly, removing all traces of herself from Vi’s tongue. Vi loves it. She grabs Caitlyn’s ass, pulling her flush against herself, and she brings one of Caitlyn’s legs up over her hip, holding her in place. She won’t risk holding Caitlyn up against the wall, not when everything is wet, and a potential hazard, but their bodies are pressed deliciously together as Vi pins Caitlyn to the wall.

It's a little awkward at first as she slips her hand under Caitlyn’s thigh and finds her entrance, but it works as Caitlyn is that bit taller. Caitlyn moans into the kiss. She’s essentially trapped between the wall and Vi, unable to do anything but take Vi’s fingers thrusting inside of her.

Caitlyn drops a hand down from where it’s clutching at Vi’s back, fingers moving to rub over her own clit. Vi nips at the side of her neck, the angle causing her shoulder to drop lower and her fingers to thrust deeper into Caitlyn’s entrance. She feels Caitlyn’s orgasm coating her fingers as she comes, leaning heavily against the wall. Vi noses along her jawline, trailing kisses as she goes.

The water starts to turn cold, so she reaches over and shuts it off. She gently lowers Caitlyn’s leg to the ground and holds onto her hips to keep her steady.

“You’re full of surprises,” Caitlyn whispers. Vi smiles and kisses her lips once before stepping out of the shower stall. She passes Caitlyn a fresh towel to dry off and grabs one for herself, quickly drying off. She hangs it up to dry and catches Caitlyn’s amused smile.

“I’m just going to change the sheets, you stay here and get dry,” Vi says. She wanders back into the bedroom, knowing full well that Caitlyn’s gaze is on her ass.

She makes quick work of stripping the bed, tossing the sheets into the hamper in the corner of the room before putting fresh ones on. She glances up in surprise when she feels the sheet being tugged into place on the other side of the bed.

“Figured I’d help since I helped ruin the other ones,” Caitlyn comments, and just that simple sentence does things to Vi.

They make quick work of making the bed and Vi gives a nod of approval.

“I’ll just go get some more water,” she says, grabbing their empty bottles.

When she returns, Caitlyn is sitting against the headboard, one leg propped up, bent at the knee. Vi can see her naked pussy as she closes the distance between them. She passes Caitlyn a bottle and climbs onto the bed next to her.

“Are you tired yet?” she asks and bites back a chuckle when Caitlyn shakes her head.

“Not yet,” she replies, taking a long swig of her water.

Vi does the same and once she’s drank half the bottle, she sets it on top of the drawers next to the harness. “What would you like to do next?”

A soft, contemplative hum comes from Caitlyn as she puts her bottle on top of the other bedside drawers.

“I have a very long list of things I’d like to do to you,” Caitlyn says.

“Really?” Vi asks, curious. She lies down and tucks an arm behind her head, content to watch Caitlyn as she nods, a secretive smile flitting across her lips.

Caitlyn sits up and takes her hair out of its ponytail, shakes it out and ties it back up again. She then shifts so she’s straddling Vi once more and kisses her slowly. Vi loses herself in the kiss, her hands holding Caitlyn’s hips. Her hands slide upwards, smoothing over her back. She cups one of Caitlyn’s breasts, her thumb rubbing over her nipple piercing.

“Well, if I can help you get through that list, you just let me know where you want to start,” Vi says with more arrogance than she probably should. But it makes Caitlyn press harder against her, so she takes it as a win.

“I want us to eat each other out at the same time,” Caitlyn says against Vi’s lips. Vi nods, kissing back. She can definitely do this. This is an excellent plan, she thinks.

“And this time, you can finger my ass at the same time as my pussy.”

Vi’s brain definitely short circuits at that. She nods vigorously. “I love this plan,” she says, her voice a lot lower than it usually is, desire coursing through her.

She reaches over to the bedside drawer and opens it, rummaging around until she finds the lubricant, setting it on top next to the harness and water bottle. Caitlyn leans forwards and kisses her hotly, biting Vi’s lip as she pulls away. The look Caitlyn gives her can only be described as feral as she slowly, purposefully moves her entire body up the bed, her pussy dragging over Vi’s abs as she goes.

Vi moans at the action. She grips Caitlyn’s hips, half tempted to just have Caitlyn ride her abs, but she really wants to get her mouth back on Caitlyn’s pussy.

Caitlyn reaches down and plays with both of Vi’s straining nipples. Vi is convinced that Caitlyn knows exactly how much she’s teasing her and is clearly getting off on it herself. Vi thinks if she was going to die tonight from all of this teasing, it would be well worth it.

“Maybe you should get these pierced,” Caitlyn comments off-handedly. “We could match.”

Vi hums. “Maybe,” she replies. Caitlyn leans forwards and Vi tilts her chin up, thinking that Caitlyn is going for a kiss but she bites at the side of Vi’s neck, right over her tattoo.

“I do love this, though,” she whispers in Vi’s ear.

Vi whimpers when she repeats the action, adding a little tongue. Her knees come up and the action causes Caitlyn’s pussy to rub over Vi’s abs once more. She reaches down, sliding a finger into Caitlyn from behind, and Caitlyn automatically rocks back into her, her eyes shutting at the movement.

“Unfair,” Caitlyn whispers.

“Says the woman who was just rubbing herself all over my abs,” Vi counters. A smile ghosts across Caitlyn’s lips and she purposefully does it again, despite Vi’s finger being inside of her.

“They’re excellent abs,” Caitlyn comments. “I’m surprised someone hasn’t locked you down already.”

Vi gives her a look. “I guess I’m just not into superficial lust, which is what a lot of women who come into the bar are looking for.”

Caitlyn hums and presses her lips to Vi’s once more, effectively cutting off their weird conversation.

Before Vi knows it, Caitlyn is shifting off her, quickly swinging her legs over Vi’s body the other way and presenting her soaking wet pussy and pert ass right in front of Vi’s face. It takes all of Vi’s strength not to just yank Caitlyn forwards and bury herself in her pussy.

Caitlyn’s hips roll backwards and Vi mutters a soft, emphatic “fuck” before doing just that. She’s rewarded with a sweet, surprised noise from Caitlyn as she sucks on her clit. The angle is different than earlier, but it’s just as incredible. Vi can’t get enough.

It isn’t long before Caitlyn’s mouth is on her, her tongue sweeping broad strokes over Vi’s clit. She lifts her hips at the touch, seeking more.

They get a steady rhythm happening, both teasing and pleasing, and Vi thinks it can’t get better than this. Until she remembers Caitlyn’s request. She pulls away from Caitlyn’s pussy, eliciting a whimper from Caitlyn. She rubs a hand over one of Caitlyn’s ass cheeks.

“Just getting the lube,” she says huskily. She uncaps the bottle and squeezes a little over Caitlyn’s hole, watching it flutter at the contact. She tosses the bottle off to the side and spreads the lubricant around. Caitlyn moans.

This spurs Vi on. She slides her thumb into Caitlyn’s pussy and licks at her clit, causing Caitlyn to whimper and push back into Vi’s face a little more. She smirks to herself and gives Caitlyn everything she wants.

Her index finger meets a resistance at first, but then it slides into Caitlyn’s ass easily. She takes a moment to get a rhythm up and Caitlyn moans again, her head falling to rest on Vi’s thigh. She knows she’s soaked and seeing how soaked Caitlyn’s pussy is right over her face is as well is doing things to her too.

Once she has her finger buried in Caitlyn as far as it will go, she thrusts it in again and again, watching as Caitlyn just fucks herself back on Vi’s finger. She shifts her head so she can get her mouth on Caitlyn’s clit and is rewarded with the most beautiful sounding blissed out noise from Caitlyn.

Caitlyn’s lips wrap around Vi’s clit a moment later, sucking for all she’s worth. Vi’s hips buck up at the contact, desperately seeking more.

Sooner than she expects, Caitlyn’s thighs start to tremble, a telltale sign of her approaching orgasm. Vi keeps her efforts up, thankful her coordination hasn’t failed her yet. Caitlyn’s orgasm hits her and she whines, but doesn’t lift her head from between Vi’s legs. As she trembles, clenching around Vi’s fingers, she doubles her efforts, and Vi’s orgasm slams into her moments later. She drops her head back, panting heavily. She sees stars, her vision swimming at the intensity.

She gently removes her finger and thumb from Caitlyn’s holes, staring fixatedly as they clench around nothing.

“I think I’ll stay here a moment,” Caitlyn says, leaning her head against Vi’s thigh again. Her voice is husky and it makes Vi’s stomach swoop pleasantly.

She pats Caitlyn on the bottom. “Stay as long as you like, Cupcake,” she says. “I’m just going to have a little fun.”

With that, she rubs the thumb of her other hand over Caitlyn’s clit, watching as liquid trickles from Caitlyn’s pussy. She slips her forefinger back into Caitlyn’s ass, slowly thrusting it in and out at a steady rhythm.

“Vi,” Caitlyn moans, pushing back against her.

Vi just watches, mesmerised as Caitlyn’s pussy drips. Her thumb works slowly, swiping through her wetness and back down to her swollen clit. She leans forwards to kiss Caitlyn’s clit, drinking in Caitlyn’s noises.

This orgasm hits slower, but her thighs tremble and Vi is helpless but to kiss them as much as she can, both hands working Caitlyn’s pussy and ass until her entire body slumps on top of Vi, spent.

She places one more, lingering kiss to Caitlyn’s clit, making her whimper, before she removes her hands. She reaches for a tissue and some wet wipes to clean her fingers off before gently manoeuvring Caitlyn’s body so she’s lying on her back.

Caitlyn’s chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath and Vi turns around so they’re facing each other. She trails her fingers up Caitlyn’s toned stomach, circling around one nipple, watching it strain against the bar going through it. She repeats the action on her other nipple, enjoying the way Caitlyn’s body responds to her.

“Had enough yet?” Vi asks softly, taking in Caitlyn’s sweaty, flushed face. There are flyaway hairs stuck to Caitlyn’s forehead and her ponytail is almost completely out.

Her head shakes though. “No,” she whispers. She turns to face Vi, opening her eyes slowly. She smiles and leans forwards, kissing Vi soundly on the lips. “I don’t think I could ever get enough of you.”

Pride blooms in Vi’s chest. She trails her fingers down Caitlyn’s body, slipping between her legs once more. She rubs slow circles around Caitlyn’s clit before dipping inside of her pussy. She’s still so wet. Vi moans at it.

“You’re so wet, Cupcake,” Vi whispers. “It’s kind of driving me crazy.”

Caitlyn gives her a small smile that quickly turns into a moan. She kisses Vi again, one hand in Vi’s hair, pulling her forwards.

This time, Caitlyn’s orgasm is a bit stronger. Her thighs tremble around Vi’s hand, effectively keeping her trapped there. Vi just rubs her through it, soaking up the moans and the sounds of pleasure that Caitlyn emits.

“Fuck,” Caitlyn whispers when Vi removes her fingers. She grabs Vi’s hand and sucks her fingers clean, keeping eye contact with her the entire time. Vi couldn’t take her eyes off Caitlyn if she tried.

“I don’t know how you’re not tired,” Vi comments. “I’ve lost count how many orgasms that is.”

Caitlyn hums, smiling. “Nine for me, five for you,” she says without hesitation. “You’ve got some catching up to do.”

Vi drops her head onto Caitlyn’s shoulder. “Figures the Sheriff of Piltover would keep track of something like that.”

“I am good with data analytics,” Caitlyn replies and the look she gives Vi makes her laugh. She rolls onto her back, amused. She hasn’t had this much fun having sex in ages.

“Is there anything you like?” Caitlyn asks. She props herself up on her elbow, her own fingers stroking over one of Vi’s nipples.

Vi thinks about it. “I don’t do it often,” she says. “But I love getting fucked with a strap.”

Caitlyn practically beams at her. “On your back, or ass up, or riding me?” she asks.

“Anything is fine,” Vi replies. “But that blue one is a bit big for me. There’s a red one in the bottom drawer that’s a bit smaller.”

They both shift on the bed, Vi gets up to stretch her muscles and have a drink of water while Caitlyn secures the harness on her body. Vi licks her lips at the sight.

“On your knees,” Caitlyn commands softly and Vi eagerly complies. She positions herself on the bed and Caitlyn climbs on behind her. She can feel the toy pressing against her entrance as Caitlyn positions herself. She spreads Vi’s cheeks as she lines the toy up with her vagina and slides in with one swift thrust.

Vi drops her head to the pillow underneath her and moans. It’s been a while since she’s done this and it feels so good.

“There’s a good girl,” Caitlyn says. Her hand comes down in one swift smack to Vi’s butt and she jolts, thrusting back into Caitlyn automatically.

The movements start off slow, the toy dragging deliciously inside of Vi. She keeps her eyes closed, letting the sensations wash over her. Caitlyn grips her hips in both hands, helping guide her back with each movement.

Soon, Vi is meeting her thrust for thrust. She can feel her wetness dripping down the inside of her thighs, and she knows she isn’t going to last too much longer.

“Sit up,” Caitlyn says.

“What?” Vi mumbles, opening her eyes.

Caitlyn tugs on her hip and Vi takes the hint, rising up on her knees so her back is flush against Caitlyn’s chest. It makes it a lot harder for Caitlyn to move inside of her, but she finds she doesn’t particularly care when Caitlyn’s fingers start rubbing her clit. She leans her head back on Caitlyn’s shoulder, keeping her eyes closed.

She moves back against Caitlyn as best as she can given the angle. Each swipe of Caitlyn’s long fingers over Vi’s clit is delicious. Her fingers slide lower, feeling how Vi stretches around the toy. She whimpers when Caitlyn cups her entire pussy, her fingers teasing her as the toy slides in and out of her slowly. She’s close, and when Caitlyn’s fingers refocus on her clit, it isn’t long before she’s coming, her body trembling with the effort of keeping upright.

She all but collapses against the bed, Caitlyn slipping out of her as she does.

“Wow,” Vi says, rolling onto her back. “That… that was good.”

“It was,” Caitlyn agrees. “Do you want to go again?”

Vi hums, contemplating. She doesn’t feel like she’s asking for too much when she spreads her legs and Caitlyn quickly settles between them.

The toy slides in with ease given how wet Vi still is. She wraps her legs around Caitlyn’s waist and Caitlyn thrusts forwards, burying herself completely inside of Vi.

“Caitlyn,” she whispers, eyes opening. Caitlyn looks down at her with an intense look, her gaze heated and her eyes bright. She kisses her and Vi moans, arching into Caitlyn’s touch.

Everything feels electric. She’s sweaty and in desperate need of some more water, but with the steady way Caitlyn is moving inside of her, she can’t bring herself to care.

Her thighs start to tremble around Caitlyn’s waist and she clings tightly to her as she orgasms. Her breathing is laboured and her chest heaving as she all but slumps against the bed.

“I think I’m done,” Vi mumbles. She moans softly when Caitlyn slides out of her. She makes quick work of taking the harness off and throwing it to the floor where it lands with a slight squelch.

Caitlyn settles on her side next to Vi and kisses her shoulder. Vi turns her head and gives her a dopey, sleepy smile.

“That’s seven to your nine,” Vi comments and it makes Caitlyn laugh. She shifts closer, and Vi automatically slides her arms around Caitlyn holding her close. One hand strokes through Caitlyn’s hair. She has no idea where her hair tie has got to, but Caitlyn’s hair is soft under Vi’s fingers and that’s all she really cares about.

“You’re amazing,” Caitlyn says after a few minutes of blissful silence. “Thank you.”

Vi kisses the top of her head. “Any time, Cupcake,” she says.

Caitlyn lifts her head and kisses Vi soundly on the lips. The kisses are soft and a little sleepy. Caitlyn hums contentedly and settles a little more against Vi’s side.

“Oh, before I forget,” Vi says. She reaches over into the top drawer, fingers clasping around a small box. She opens it and slides Caitlyn’s ring onto her finger. She presses a kiss right over it and smiles. “There. That’s better.” She puts her own back on and places the box back in the drawer.

“I felt lost without it,” Caitlyn says. She places her hand on Vi’s chest.

“You looked weird without it,” Vi says. “I didn’t like it. Not at all.”

Caitlyn hums. “I know,” she replies, fingers circling over Vi’s chest in small, aimless patterns. “But that is some of the best sex we’ve ever had.”

Vi grins. “Who knew three months of celibacy could lead to that?” She feels Caitlyn’s chuckle more than she can hear it. “But that was some of the best roleplaying we’ve ever done. Even if I thought you were going to break character a few times there.”

“Me?” Caitlyn says, sounding put out. “I thought I was going to have to come and pry that woman off you earlier tonight.”

It takes all of her strength not to smile at that. “What woman?” she asks innocently.

Caitlyn gives her a sharp look. Vi captures her hand and kisses right over Caitlyn’s wedding ring once more.

“I love you,” she says, turning her gaze on Caitlyn, watching as her wife practically melts.

“I love you too,” Caitlyn replies. “But we really need to change these sheets again.”

Vi snorts and shakes her head. “In a bit. I can’t move. Someone gave me seven very amazing orgasms tonight.”

The smug smile on Caitlyn’s face makes Vi’s stomach swoop. She can’t believe even after all of these years together Caitlyn can still make her feel like this.

As Caitlyn settles against her a little more, her eyes fluttering closed, Vi thinks about how lucky she is. And then she starts mentally planning out what their next roleplay could be.

[down-to-helltown]

Another headcanon set, this time for the Dynamite Duo! i drank a can of soda and have many thoughts

Anton -Anton was raised solely by his mother (canonically, according to Tony) in the backstreets of Boiler City. He never knew his father, who abandoned the family when he was super young. Anton tries to be a better father than his old man with Amy. He's also a bit of a momma's boy. -Anton has thalassaphobia. He knows how to swim, but hates being in the ocean or even deep bodies of water. 'The Big Bath' was made by Satan specifically to torment Anton with this fear. -Anton really is one of the reddest people on/in the Earth. Few of the technicolor humans reach the same vivid red color as he does. He jokes and says its because he's angry all the time. -His liver might as well be made of titanium; he's been drinking for a long time and in such a large quantity, but he's never really suffered any serious health issues. Doctors are utterly baffled by it, thinking it might be some kind of mutation. (their world does exist in a post-nuclear war)

Annie -Unlike Anton, Annie has both of her parents; who are pretty damn loaded. Though she hated living with them and the upper crust (as upper crust as you can get in Boiler City) and ran away from home when she was 18. As per the ending credits, they've tried to contact her but she keeps destroying their letters. -She's known Anton for a pretty long time, the two meeting in Brulo's casino when she was about to be thrown out for not being 21. Anton bailed her out and ever since then they've been friends and roomates. -If Anton has a titanium liver, then Annie has an iron gut. She can eat food that's a week old and not get sick. She also likes eating really weird foods just to gross people out. Bonus ship headcanon -Her and Anton as a couple is... complicated. Sometimes they're dating, sometimes they're just roomates, but most of the time they describe themselves as friends with benefits.

[pineapple-split]

Caitlyn is privileged, from an upper crust noble family in an oppressive society. Before this point, she’s never lost anyone or anything. She’s had every luxury and every opportunity handed to her. She had in total maybe a week of exposure to the realities of life in the undercity, and while she sympathized she never had to actually confront her role in the society that made things this way.

Then things fall apart, her mother is dead, and she’s angry and grieving. She also has access to a militarized force that, to her mind, presents a quick, handy solution while also allowing her to feed the rage and grief she’s feeling. Remember, she’s a cop! She’s trained to think this way, and she has not undergone any kind of reckoning wrt who and what the enforcers are.

I don’t find it very surprising that this is the path she walks down. Ambessa is operating in the background sure, but she’s still just leading a horse to water. Caitlyn’s drinking it herself, and it makes a horrible kind of sense. Things have become very black and white in her mind, as intended for cops enforcers. The Zaunites are the enemy, and more and more it becomes easier for her to justify to herself eliminating them by any means necessary. She has a whole society behind her, with one (1) person pushing back and by that point, all she sees is that this person is also a Zaunite!

I don’t like her actions, but I do appreciate what’s being shown here, which is how easy it is for someone to get radicalized in the wrong direction. A lot of stories hinge this around personal tragedy without taking into account these other factors: personal privilege, access to overwhelming force, and no pushback from peers because the whole fabric of society is designed for this. It’s been made very clear over and over again that Piltover’s prosperity is only possible through the oppression of the undercity. This is the world Caitlyn is from. This turn was always a possibility, and the fact that it’s Caitlyn taking the reins (Ambessa or no Ambessa) just drives this home.

We’ll see where the show takes it from here, but imo there can be no coming back from this (and certainly no “happy ending”) for Caitlyn without her really confronting all of what I laid out above. If she can’t reckon with the violence her whole life was built on, that she then actively fed with eyes wide open, she’ll never find peace.

[seriousbrat]

Ok, I'll bite: Calling Lily a social climber for participating in the Slug Club is once again making her responsible for the flaws of a male character (Slughorn). Slughorn is himself a social climber, he likes to collect students with influence and talent, and he likes to call in favours when these students are thriving outside of Hogwarts. Yes, there'll be students who're only there because of their connections and surname, but also students like Ginny and Hermione, full of academic promise that Slughorn recognises and wants to nourish. Yes, maybe for his own benefit, but that's on him.

Are Hermione and Ginny social climbers, too? The Slug Club may have an elitist and exclusivist side. But when academics recognise and reward a student's talent with opportunities, is it "social climbing" to take these opportunities? Slughorn does it in a sleazy way that rubs people wrong - especially because Harry, our great narrator, doesn't like it. But McGonagall has pulled strings with the government to offer Hermione a time turner and gifted first-year Harry a top-of-the-line broom. Teachers favouring students when they recognise their potential should not be new.

Sorry this became an insane stream of consciousness.

Yeah!! Completely agreed. Characters like Hermione and Ginny aren't typically accused of the same. Also I don't think it's wrong to want to excel at a career and the Slug Club would be an opportunity to facilitate that-- one I don't think it's necessarily wrong to take. Hermione, who actively attends the meetings and enjoys herself, doesn't stop being friends with people who don't attend, nor does she purposefully try to ingratiate herself with the upper crust, I think that's fairly obvious in her interactions with Scrimgeour haha.

I'll be real, if I was at Hogwarts and invited to the Slug Club I'd probably go. Mostly because it's a party and free drinks idk.

Slughorn is absolutely a social climber and very very flawed as a character, but tbh I can understand that his acceptance of muggle-born students (flawed and limited as it may have been) was maybe at least something to those students, and why they would have wanted to be included. Like why should they not attend?

In my fic I had a lot of characters criticise Dirk Cresswell for taking the advantages offered to him by Slughorn-- but something I wanted to drive home with Dirk (and this was kind of the purpose of Professor Buttercrambe too) is that he's still muggle-born, still doing his best to survive in a society hostile to him, and that this, while perhaps not very noble, is deserving of empathy and understandable. At least in my opinion!

[sentient-cloud]

The magic that seeks to create a worthy scion in Stallion Quartermane’s image is woven deeply into the world of Lemuria, creating countless ‘heroes’ in its history. Of course, all were failures, in a technical sense. No great heroes of the past managed to harness The Old One’s secrets and rise to become his ideal scion, despite the world’s best efforts. Not all even accomplished great feats and notoriety, such as the legendary He Mander. Some simply ran headfirst into danger until they couldn’t anymore.

Eileen Patrick was one of those heroes. Born and raised amidst the upper crusts of Heap, she spent her days living the life of a socialite, dressing up pretty and talking nice to her father’s friends. He was the only family she had, and in her eyes he was an admirable, hardworking man, a man who’s secretive work must surely be of great importance, importance that would one day be passed down to Eileen, hopefully. Of course, in Heap such wealth rarely comes cleanly. Eileen only found out about her father’s workings with the cities mobs and mana smuggling when it got him killed. Bitter at her father for his secretive dealings and even more bitter at the crime lords for taking him from her, she coped the only way a girl could, becoming a masked vigilante known as The Dalmino Lady.

The Dalmino Lady’s run of Heap lasted all of four years, but it was the only time Eileen Patrick felt fully alive. Running across rooftops in heels with a reckless abandon, seducing her way into criminals homes, and stealing evidence of their crimes (and perhaps a few extra things as well, certainly this necklace would be better off in the hands of that pretty waitress at the diner on the corner.) It’s also when she met Darla Blake, her closest friend and a woman she fell deeply, helplessly in love with. A hero in her own right, going my the moniker Miss Purry, the two wagered themselves a fierce duo. They were unstoppable, they could make a real difference in lives of Heap’s citizens, they were certain of it. Then a new face showed up in Heap, a man they called a Lion, and the scales tipped. Of course, Dal couldn’t have known this, and her confidence was only growing. Confidence that led to arrogance, which led to rushing in fights without a second thought to one’s lack of combat abilities, which led to bleeding out in a dark alley at the age of 24. The Dalmino lady’s Demise and Eileen’s secret identity would be spread around in newspapers and as a topic of conversation amongst gatherings of socialites, before eventually, it was forgotten. Darla retired from the hero business, and that was that for Heaps grand heroes.

Eileen’s biggest talent is her charisma, she’s, a talker, first and foremost. And seduction, well, she can charm her away around any man she pleases. Women… she stumbles her way around, it’s a lot harder when you actually care. Of course it all became a matter of business when she met Darla. Following after anyone else would be utterly unthinkable.

She enjoys a good drink, though she’ll more often than not exaggerate just how much she’s had, it makes people let their guard down, and works as a good excuse for a quick exit. While her identity as the Dalmino Lady is a close kept secret, she craves notoriety, to be known for her actions rather than just her pretty face. She’s crafted calling cards, little taunts to slip in the place of the items she steals - it’s no fun if people aren’t talking about you.

——

Eileen! My token Lemuria hero oc, she’s similarly based on a classic pulp hero, her inspiration is The Domino Lady. Miss Purry credit to @kindcolors, everyone go clap for her too, she kind of won the nonhuman w101 oc bracket a bit back.

[jkl-fff]

you’re always the giver of the silly games but never the receiver of one. so here you go!!

alien silly game time!

what is your favorite planet, and why? (plot twist though. make up a planet and act as if its always been in the milky way :] )

Fortunately, I am lucky enough to receive some Silly Game Times on the regular. About ... Oh, one per day on average, I reckon? Which is fun! But all the same, thank you!

No planet beats Nau Tawnadj! Roughly 50% of it is covered by water, and it has a diverse variety of flora and fauna (like most planets in the habitable zone that develop molten cores, solid crusts, surface water, and "breathable" atmospheres). Its continents are very rugged from steady volcanic activity ... AND IT'S EXTREMELY RICH IN CRYSTALS! Through a geological process we wouldn't understand because it hardly ever happens on Earth, Nau Tawnadj's upper mantle is practically like a factory for crystals of just about every kind, and it practically shoves them up through the crust. Sometimes, there're whole spires of pure crystal jutting over 100 meters high. Sometimes, they'll stretch all over a chain of mountains or an open plain the same way rock outcroppings will be exposed here on Earth.

What's really unique and amazing about Nau Tawnadj, however, is its development of intelligent, *silicon-based* life! Which is so, sooooo rare, even in an infinite universe! Biological lifeforms are relatively common by comparison to silicon-based ones! Now to be fair, no matter where or how it develops in the universe, Life with a capital L must be considered (for want of a better word) a miracle. On this planet, however, some very specific crystals have miraculously become sentient. No one is sure how, but it appears that they can spread slowly throughout a geological structure (rocks) until they're eventually able to shape it into a form capable of locomotion. And then they move around and experience their world.

This lifeform, which some Human scientists are fancifully calling Trolls until we learn what (if anything) they call themselves, is quite different from biological life. Trolls don't seem to have DNA and thus don't reproduce in any way that approximates sex (they can seemingly foster conditions for new Troll ctystals to form and to spread throughout rocks they arrange it, but it seems more like slow gardening than reproduction); they don't need to eat or drink or breathe in our traditional senses of the words, so they don't have mouths (except possibly where they might be deliberately choosing to imitate the appearances of biological creatures) or lungs or digestive organs with which they could eat, drink, or speak; they don't have flesh subject to disease or predators to hunt and feed on them, so they seem to be functionally immortal. Fascinatingly, their bodies are less a question of evolutionary adaptation, and more a question of trial-and-error engineering for successful locomotion. But even then, they seem to develop individual preferences for certain shapes of body (and styles of superficial presentation), with noticable similarities in appearance between Trolls from the same region that might be cultural (tribal?). Or maybe they just get bored with the long, slow process of shaping themselves (like sculpting both external and internal), and thus don't decide to change away from something that works without major cause.

Add to this that Nau Tawnadj has spectacular night skies. It has three moons (one about 3/4 the size of Earth's moon, the other two about about 1/5 the size of our moon--what might be an asteroid and a metoer that happened to get caught in stable orbits), and its system is just outside a very bright nebula.

Well worth a visit the next time you're near Orion's belt!