#when a d&d party fucks up majorly

[dnd-stories-from-a-dm]

On today's episode of the Chaos Crew.... the party decided to enter a bag of holding to chase and kill a monster that was stealing everyones stuff and creating multidimensional tunnels connecting all bags of holding, forgetting they all carried bags of holding and creating multiplanel explosion across the Astral Plane, destroying every bag of holding and flinging billions of people across the Astral Planes. The party unfortunately became accidental multiplanel terrorists and now face trial in front of ALL the gods to plead their case.

[sinningforrory]

stupid // stan uris smut

a/n: hey everyone! it's been so long since i've posted and a lot of people have been sending me requests but since my first and only fic i've uploaded on here has gained 1,000 notes i thought i'd gift you guys this fic as a thank you. i'm gonna try and upload a lot more now because i appreciate so much the love my writing gets fr thank you guys so much. hope you enjoy and as always, reblogging really helps me out so if u enjoy, pls don't hesitate!

WARNINGS: dom!stan, submissive!bratty!reader, slight choking, mention of drugs (if you squint) SMUT, majorly NSFW minors please dni, thank you!

WORD COUNT: OVER 6K

SUMMARY: Your parents best friends' son. The picture perfect grade A student of the perfect suburban family. And a cocky douchebag. You hated him. But, since you both got into the same college, Stan has been making it clear that he definitely does not hate you...

Stanley. Even his name irked you. I mean, who in their right mind births a beautiful baby boy and names him Stanley. What a stupid name. It fits him though, that’s for sure. Stupid Stan with his stupid family and his stupid friends and his stupid studying. He was just so stupid that you wanted to bash his brains in any time he so much as breathed around your presence. 

Of course, he hadn’t necessarily done anything to warrant your intense hatred towards him. He just irritated you. You were Jewish too so you’d always see each other at the Synagogue and your parents were enamoured by Stan’s stupidness. They saw it as ‘perfection’ instead though. They were always bothering you about how you should ‘aim to be more like Stan’ or ‘Stan’s parents told me he got an A in this class. So why are you getting a D?’ He drove you insane. You weren’t Stan, you weren’t stupid like Stan so why couldn’t your parents just love you for you instead of comparing you to that stupid, stupid boy.

Due to your parents being very good friends with Stan’s family, you saw each other a lot more than you’d like. And every time you were there you took every opportunity to be nasty to Stan just to wear off some steam. But that made it even worse. It wouldn’t matter if he was a dick to you too. But no. He’s NICE to you. And you know he’s doing it on purpose to get on your nerves because every time he compliments your hair and sees you glaring knives into his eyes, he does a subtle smirk to himself as if he’s fucking won this silly little game you play. He knows he’s driving you insane and he’s proud of himself for it. What a fucking douche.  

It had always been this way. Stan irritates you, you’re a bitch to Stan, Stan eats it up, Stan irritates you, blah, blah, blah. It was an endless cycle of hate. 

However, something had flipped in Stan the summer before you both left for college. Luckily enough, you’d both managed to get into the exact same ivy league as each other so you would be stuck with Stan for the next four years. When you found out you immediately wanted to bash your head into a wall repeatedly until you woke up from this absolute nightmare that was Stanley Uris. 

The news that you had both gotten into an ivy league warranted a celebratory party for the both of you. The idea from your lovely mother, of course, and at said party, Stan was acting a lot stranger than normal. So strange to the point where you were currently hiding in the bathroom with your back against the door breathing heavily as if he was chasing after you and about to knock the door down with an axe.  

It started in the garden. You wore a white summer dress with tiny yellow flowers scattered among it. Stan was looking very punchable in cream khakis and a navy polo. Unbuttoned, of course, because he could never look TOO tidy. You stood by the refreshments, sipping a virgin pina colada when Stan strutted his way over with a teasing grin on his face, ready to ruin your relaxed mood. 

‘So, I guess we’re going to college together. It seems you really can’t escape me, can you, y/n?’ He leaned against the table next to you, taking a sip from his beer. You glared up at him, already infuriated by the fact that he was leaning down with you stood up straight next to him and he was still taller than you. 

‘Oh please, Stanley, don’t pretend to be so happy about this when we both know you are just as excited about this as me.’ 

He gasped in mock surprise before laughing softly at the frown on your face, ‘Oh, come on, princess, you know you love me. I guarantee that you would miss this adorable face as soon as you knew you couldn’t see me anymore.’ 

He smiled at you gently before moving his sunglasses up to rest on his curls and taking a sip of beer. 

You moved to stand in front of him, making a move to leave the refreshments and flee to your room (or anywhere away from Stan). ‘Bite me, Uris.’ 

‘If you insist, princess.’ He smirked at you and folded his arms over his chest, his muscles straining under his polo. 

Your eyes widened slightly, shock evident on your face at his words. He had always been overly saccharine with you but he had never flirted with you so boldly. Shaking yourself out of your daze, you scoffed before walking off with your pina colada into your kitchen for some snacks. 

5 minutes later, you were still stood in front of your fridge, supposedly searching for food but instead, you found yourself staring off into space. You could not scratch that smug image of Stan out of your brain, his words engraving themselves into your memory, messing with your mind. 

Worst of all, you found yourself repeatedly wondering why you liked what he had said to you. Pulling yourself together, you closed the fridge door but immediately jumped as you saw Stan standing right where the fridge door had been resting. 

‘You look a little lost, princess, is everything okay?’ He was stood so close to you that your chests were half an inch away from touching. You gazed into his eyes for half a second before realising what you were doing and coughed before putting some distance between the two of you. 

‘Uh-uhm, I’m fine thank you, Stanley. Just couldn’t find what I was craving.’ 

He nodded his head understandingly before taking a step forward so you were nearly chest to chest once again. ‘What exactly are you craving, y/n?’ 

He hadn’t meant to sound so enticing, or maybe he had, but the way he said that with his gravelly voice and his tiny smirk made your thighs involuntarily clench together. 

‘E-erm, just some guacamole dip. My mom always hides it from me though because she knows I’ll eat it all before the other guests can have any.’ You fiddled with the hem of your dress, avoiding eye contact with the boy in front of you. What had gotten into you, why was he making your confidence dissipate so easily and why were you suddenly acting like a nervous school-girl?

Stan’s eyebrows furrowed before an evil look took over his features. He was planning something, you could tell. And you didn’t like it. 

‘Oh, you mean.. this guacamole? The one on top of the fridge? That I can reach? But you can’t?’ 

Your eyes trailed along his veiny, muscular forearm before they met his slender, mocking hand where you found it gesturing towards... of course: the dip. 

Frustration filled you head to toe as you realised that Stan, once again, had the upper hand. Your jaw ticked as your eyes finally met Stan’s cocky, patronising eyes and you had to resist the urge to make those smug, brown orbs black and blue. 

‘It seems that you have something you need to ask me, darling. Because, let’s face it, we’re not gonna have a stare-off all day in front of this fridge. So, let’s hear it: “Oh, please, Stanley. I need you to get me that dip off the top of the fridge because I was born with incompetent height and I can’t do it without you, Stanley.”’ 

You crossed your arms over your chest as you listened, painfully, to Stan mock you with such arrogance you found it hard to resist whacking him with a frying pan. However, to Stan’s surprise, before he had the chance to continue making fun of you, there was no one standing in front of him anymore. 

Where had you gone? he thought. That’s unlike you, to admit defeat so easily. Where was your usual snarky bite back, attacking him on his ‘unusually long legs’? 

But before he could get too worried, there you were. Returning into the kitchen to fight back to Stan.... with a chair. 

Wordless and emotionless, you put the chair down in front of the fridge, stood on its seat and grabbed the dip, finally retreating from the kitchen, not before throwing Stan a victorious wink before you disappeared around the corner. 

Truth be told, you had no idea how to respond to Stan’s unusual behaviour so instead of arguing back like you would normally do, your mind blanked of insults completely and you did the next best thing that you could think of: beat him at his own game. 

It was obvious that something about Stan had changed since the last time you had spoken and Stan seemed to think he was one step ahead of you. What stupid Stan didn’t know was that you were nowhere near as Stupid as him and knew that the only way to irritate him like you used to was to give him a taste of his own medicine. 

Sure, you weren’t exactly completely against the idea of flirting with Stan for fun. He was obviously a good-looking guy; you knew because he would never let you forget it. And you would never pass up the opportunity to get a hot guy flustered. 

This was how Stan wanted to play? Fine. He’d better prepare to lose. 

It had been two weeks since this little game you and Stan were playing had begun and you couldn’t hold out much longer. The tension between the two of you had sky-rocketed and even the slightest twitch of a smirk in the corner of Stan’s mouth had your panties pooling with desire. 

You had an inkling that Stan was in the same boat as you were as your lingering caresses on his arm or leg when laughing with him and his family seemed to make him blush much easier than before. 

The point of why you were doing all of this was still vaguely swimming around in the back of your mind: do not be the first to give into your temptations. Don’t sleep with Stan. 

However, with Stan so perfectly positioned behind you so your butt met his bulge as he leaned over your petite frame to reach for a glass, you had to take deep breaths to remind yourself once again: don’t sleep with Stan. 

You gulped and took a deep breath of relief once he removed himself from his position behind you to lean on the counter next to you. His gaze burned into the side of your face and you met his eyes briefly just to find him with a cocky smirk plastered on him. 

Your blood boiled (with rage or desire, you didn’t know) but you looked away without giving even the slightest of a reaction. You could never let him know how much his actions affected you. 

It was that dreaded time of the week when you go over to the Uris family’s house for dinner and after eating a delicious meal cooked by Mrs Uris you did the routine of standing in the kitchen and drinking an iced tea with Stan whilst the adults got drunk in the living room. 

Usually, you and Stan would bicker pointlessly during this time of the evening, but tonight it was completely silent between the two of you with only lingering gazes and glares thrown from one to the other. The tension could be cut with a butter knife. 

However, your torment was put on pause as, suddenly, Mrs Uris appeared at the kitchen door. ‘Hello sweeties,’ she hiccoughed slightly, clearly tipsy. ‘I know that the kitchen is very beautiful but you are welcome to go up to Stan’s room if you want. Stan certainly won’t mind a beautiful girl like you to be up in his room, y/n.’ She winked as you blushed and Stan coughed out an embarrassed ‘Mom!’. 

She then made her departure, giggling to herself softly as she went. Stan then coughed to get your attention and gestured with a jerk of his head to the direction of his room, indirectly asking if you wanted to take up his mother on her offer. You shrugged before making your way up the stairs to Stan’s room. 

Stan’s room. What a place to behold. You hadn’t been up there since you were about 12 and had to work with Stan on a class project. It had changed a lot since then. Posters of bands that Stan listened to were plastered all over the walls and clothes were scattered all over the floor, and let’s not forget to mention the faint aroma of marijuana. 

Stan manoeuvred you out of the doorway, his fingers gracing your waist ever so slightly with his bulge pressed against your lower back as he shimmied past you. 

He jumped on his bed, his arms and legs in a starfish position on either side of him, and closed his eyes with a big sigh. 

You carefully sat yourself down next to him on the bed, feeling too hesitant to lie yourself down next to him. He leaned up against the bed frame with his hands behind his head as he studied your appearance precariously as ever. 

‘Why do you hate me?’.

The question took you by surprise. It was so out of the blue and even more so out of character for Stan to be so straight-forward. You blinked delicately before shrugging your shoulders at him. 

‘Do you want the honest answer or the answer that you want to hear from me?’ You pressed, speaking so quiet that it was almost a whisper. 

He glanced swiftly over you for a second before responding, ‘Honest.’ 

It wasn’t like you weren’t expecting Stan to want that answer but the fact that you had to admit it to yourself now, let alone to Stan, was enough to make you faint from nerves. 

You looked away from Stan and fiddled with your fingers as you spoke in hushed tones. ‘I envy you. You have better grades, better looks, better charisma, better music taste, better style... a better life. You are better than me in every way. And I despise you for it.’ 

A masked look of shock ghosted over Stan’s face before it was replaced once again with a stony expression. He sat up straight so that your knees were touching and he placed a hand on the centre of your thigh. 

You looked up at him and connected with his gorgeous hazel eyes. He ran his tongue quickly over his lips before his eyes locked onto yours. ‘Now, we both know that’s not true.’

It was as if your body was moving with a mind of its own. Slowly, you were leaning in towards Stan as if you were magnetised to him and to be too far would hurt you in unimaginable ways. ‘How do you mean?’ You breathily responded, your heart pulsing rapidly.

He was so close to you now that you felt his breath against your lips. ‘Because I envy you ten times more.’ And with that closing sentence you felt his lips crash immediately into yours. 

All the tension from the last few days swarmed around you both like a storm of arousal and need. His kiss was passionate and rough as he pressed his lips into yours with so much want but his hand on your leg was gentle and sweet as he caressed your inner thigh gently with his thumb. 

The constant nagging of your brain screaming at you ‘Don’t sleep with Stan’ was shoved into the back of your mind falling to deaf ears as Stan moved his hand ever so slightly higher up your leg, falling to play with the hem of your dress as he detached his lips from yours to suck on your collarbone with the obvious attempt of planting a hickey. 

Stan skillfully moved you both up to the headboard so that he could deepen the passion of your kiss and you quickly maneuvered yourself so that you were now straddling his lap. 

His growing erection pressed into your centre as he trailed his smooth hands down to the flesh of your hips, his lips dragging down your jaw to find solace in the crook of your neck.

You felt like you were on fire, Stan’s touch was magnetic and no matter how you’d been trying to resist him, it was impossible. You were addicted to how he made you feel. 

Neediness began to bubble through your tummy and you could tell Stan was feeling the same way as his hands were digging into your hips harder than before. Then, his hands began to carefully drag your hips across his hardness, slowly at first. 

You could feel every bump of his length through his thin sweatpants and your hands moved down his toned body to fiddle with the hem of his t-shirt. 

His hands began to move faster, dragging your thin panties over his hard, clothed dick. He detatched his lips from your neck when you began to let out tiny, little moans of pleasure, thankful for the little bits of stimulation Stan was feeding you. 

His eyes trailed down your body, admiring every single bump and curve: the strap of your dress falling off your shoulder, your soaking panties rubbing against him as his hands moulded perfectly with the fat of your hips. They then fell on your face, growing darker at the sight of your furrowed eyebrows, messy hair and plump, red lips from you biting down too hard on them. 

Likewise, you were admiring Stan, his sharp jawline clenching and unclenching every time you dragged yourself over his most sensitive spots, his hair uncharacteristically messy from your hands tugging on his curls. He noticed your movements speeding up and he flashed you a dangerous grin; a grin that would make even the biggest prude on the planet drop her panties to her knees. 

Acknowledging your shaky hands still fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt, he slowed the movement of your hips with his strong hands and dragged you painfully slow now, refusing to let you continue with the rapid pace you’d set before. 

“You want this off, baby?” referring to his t-shirt. You nodded shyly, hands still fiddling with the hem. 

“Want me to take it off for you? Are you too dumb to do it yourself?” He stared up at you with a patronising look on his face. You groaned annoyedly, but deep down your cunt throbbed with anticipation.

“Just take it off Stan, don’t be a dick.” You glared down at him but your glare immediately switched to a look of shock as Stan’s hands had stopped your hips moving completely now, denying you any release that you were desperately craving. 

Narrowing his eyes playfully, he tutted at your lack of control. “Now, that’s no way to ask for what we want is it, sweetheart?” The corner of his lips tugged up satisfactorily as he took in your menacing glare, but also your glossed over eyes indicating your desperation for his cock. 

‘Oh, how cute,’ Stan thought pityingly. ‘The poor, little slut’s already gone dumb and I haven’t even fucked her yet.’

You breathed through your nostrils fiercely before succumbing to the begging of your aching clit and gave Stan your best doe eyes before tugging pathetically at the hem of Stan’s crumpled shirt. ‘Please take it off Stan, I’ll do anything, please..’ You pressed down on his length for extra measure just to make sure he would give you what you needed. 

A low hum of appreciation mixed with a strangled groan of pleasure escaped Stan’s throat and he mulled it over for a few seconds with that irritating smirk plastered on his face before nodding, clearly satisfied with your begging before he lifted his slender fingers to his collar and removed his shirt - finally. 

You took a moment to appreciate the art that was Stanley Uris' abs and sighed contentedly. It seemed your hands had a mind of their own as you wasted no time in rubbing your hands up and down his beautiful torso, gliding over the valleys and hills of his defined muscles.

"Enjoying yourself there, princess?" Stan chimed, clearly cocky that you'd spent about 30 seconds just groping him absentmindedly.

Tearing your eyes away, you glanced up at Stanley's face, adorned with a shit-eating smirk, one of his hands resting behind his head, the other still gripping the fat of your hip, rubbing gentle circles into your flesh.

Slightly embarrassed but, nevertheless, growing quite needy now, you rolled your eyes.

Eyes narrowing at the evil spawn, you thought 'The ego of this man is absolutely atrocious. How dare he try and make fun of me for admiring his physique when if I decided to strip naked right now, his reaction would probably beat mine.'

And then it clicked.

Focusing back on Stanley's disgustingly smug face, you did something you'd never done for Stanley Uris in your entire life.

You gave him a real genuine smile.

The apples of your cheeks beamed down at him and your eyes sparkled lovingly at the boy who was now slightly confused and, albeit, a little bit scared.

Slowly, you leaned down over Stan so your breath tickled his nose and your lips brushed gently against his, just in time to see his cheeks tinge red and his eyes flutter closed, like a naïve teenage girl who was experiencing her first kiss.

Aw, how cute.

Finally, you pressed your lips to Stanley's, so softly Stan thought he might've been kissing a cloud, and just left them there, in a gentle peck, before sitting up again to admire the look of bliss on Stan's face.

His eyes were fluttering open again and his breathing was shallow but fast.

This was the real face of Stan; he had finally taken off his mask for you.

He was so pretty, obviously you knew that already, but you couldn't get lost in his beauty again or your plan wouldn't work.

Then, when he dazedly smiled up at you and made to pull your head down so he could kiss you again, you teasingly began to lift up the hem of your dress until it had been lifted over your head and discarded somewhere on Stan's bedroom floor.

There you sat, on Stanley's clothed, throbbing cock, in just your white silk panties, the little bow just oh so enticing, and your bare, perky breasts on display for Stanley's greedy eyes.

His lips parted ever so slightly as he not-so-discreetly took in a sharp intake of breath. His eyes roamed hungrily over your exposed chest, and you knew you had him when his needy little hands reached up to thumb your erect nipples.

Arrogantly, you smirked down at him, your sweet, loving smile erased. However, Stan failed to notice, too enamoured by your naked body, like a toddler in a candy store.

"Aw, you're like a needy, little puppy, aren't you Stanny?" Your heart beat fast as you finally dropped the sentence you'd been waiting to release since Stan's cocky demeanour had surfaced.

Stan froze as he realised what you had done and his jaw clenched automatically, clearly embarrassed that he had let you entice him just how he had you not even a few minutes ago.

Narrowed eyes were glaring into yours and your confident façade faltered slightly as you realised how deep in shit you were now.

He was gonna ruin you.

However, Stan didn't flip you over dominantly so he was on top of you, or rip your panties off in anger like you had expected him to.

Gradually, he eased himself up his headboard so his back was resting comfortably against it and so the two of you were eye-level, 'innocent' doe-eyes levelled with furious, narrowed eyes.

His hands gently gripped you hips and moved you a little further up his chest, so he could remove his sweatpants, so slow and so patient you were so confused.

He looked deadly, that's for sure. But you'd expected him to be rough with you, teach you a lesson for being so naughty. All in all, other than being clearly vexed, he was treating you like you were a china doll.

As soon as his sweatpants and boxers were discarded, he moved you back to your old spot on his lap and carefully caressed your hips, his thumbs hooking under the straps of your thong and pulling at the sides, fiddling with them gently while intently drilling into your eyes with his own.

"You wanna be in control, huh, sweetheart?" He muttered so quiet you could barely hear but so full of malice your heart immediately sped up.

You had no idea what to say. No, you didn't wanna be in control. You wanted Stan to bend and contort you into any position he wanted, you wanted him to fuck your cunt until you couldn't even form a coherent word, you wanted him to paint the canvas of your body purple, pink and black, in the form of hickeys, bruises and mascara stains.

And you knew he knew that.

You knew by the look on his face, the restraint in his jaw, the rage in his eyes that he definitely did not want that either.

So why was he doing this?

Just as your brows started to furrow in confusion, Stan's thumb had started to rub harsh but deliberate circles over your clothed clit and you let out a gasp.

He tilted his head to the side slightly, furrowing his brows in faux confusion. "Is that... not what you want, baby? You see, I'm just a needy little puppy, right?" He spat at you, evidently fuming but clearly enjoying seeing you in such a state.

You shook your head and dropped your it onto Stan's shoulder, moaning softly as he used one hand to hook your panties to the side while the other found your soaking wet hole and gently inserted two very long fingers.

But, immediately he removed them.

Your head shot up in irritation but you relaxed and hummed contentedly as you realised that Stan was finally lining himself up with your entrance.

You lifted yourself up slightly to make room for his 'oh my god that's scarily big why am i only just noticing this' cock, fluttered your eyelashes closed, and waited for the stretch of him pushing up into you... but it never came.

The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was Stan's eyes, still level with yours, looking bored and his hands, once again, behind his head, biceps flexed and causing a big distraction for you.

He looked at you pointedly, but, realising you still didn't get it, rolled his eyes and motioned for you to sit on his cock.

At this point, you would've jumped off a cliff if Stan asked you to if it meant he would grant you some form of release, so you carefully began to lower yourself down onto his tree-trunk of a dick, the stretch of it stinging slightly but the depth of it stimulating you in all the right ways.

You let out a guttural moan as you sat on the base, his cock bottomed out inside of you. You gripped Stan's toned shoulders with force and wiggled about slightly, trying to adjust to this new, amazing feeling and, as you wiggled, you noticed a slight tremor in his mask as his jaw clenched and his eyebrows briefly furrowed in pleasure.

But, as quickly as it faltered, it reappeared and Stan's stoic, unimpressed gaze fell on you once again.

"Well?" He rasped, as if what he wanted was the most obvious thing in the world. "You're in control, right, babe? I'm not moving a muscle."

You knew immediately that he was not kidding, so you bottled up the impatience you had for this stupid, stubborn man and put your game face on.

You could get off without help from Stan, of course you could. You didn't need his touch when you could do a perfectly good job with your hips and your hands.

'Fine.' You thought, glaring at Stan with pure hatred in your eyes. 'Suit yourself.'

So you began to move up and down on Stanley's cock, feeling every vein and twitch as you dragged your walls all over his length, coating it in your slick.

You gripped Stan's flexed biceps, his arms unmoving from behind his head as his eyes flickered between watching your face slowly morph into a dreamy, fucked-out expression, soft, pretty moans escaping from your parted lips every time the tip of his cock would prod at your g-spot, and watching your glistening, stretched out cunt swallow up his length, each time producing more and more slick so every time you slammed back down on his base, you could hear a squelching noise.

The only sign Stan was giving away of him holding any emotion was the twitch of his jaw and brow growing more frequent as the speed of your bounces grew quicker and harsher.

Soon, your bounces grew erratic as you craved your release, the only noises in his room being your desperate whimpers of pleasure, the sound of your wetness, and skin slapping on skin, along with the occasional grunt of approval from Stan.

However, you started to grow tired and out of breath as it had been nearly 5 minutes of you bouncing up and down on Stan's length, with no help from him and your determination to beat Stan at his own game was overwhelmed by your desperation to cum, and you knew you had to admit defeat because you were never gonna cum if you carried on like this.

Reluctantly, you sank down onto Stan and stilled with him deep inside you as you breathed heavily and whimpered with the desperation to cum deep in your tummy, your clit throbbing, begging for release.

Stan's furrowed face quickly changed to that of faux sympathy as he moved his hands to rest on your waist, rubbing gentle circles into the skin. "Oh baby, are you tired? Do you need my help?" He asked, patronising you just a little bit further by stretching out 'need' just to annoy you.

You had no time to be annoyed, however, because you could feel your release creeping just that little bit further away from the loss of stimulation, so you nodded your head frantically, practically begging Stanley to help you with your pathetic little doe eyes, glossy and desperate.

"Please, Stanny, please I need it, I need you, just please make me cum." You whined, your lips ghosting his ear, and gently kissing his cheek just for good measure.

That was all Stan needed to hear as he grabbed your neck, squeezing gently as he brought your face back to his and kissed you harshly, bruising your lips with his teeth as he dragged your lip with him, pulling away, and then releasing it.

"See, that wasn't so hard was it!" He smiled gently at you, pecking your plump, red lips and squeezing your neck in approval, before he moved his hands back to your waist, his grip turning nasty and he lifted you up right to his tip, then plunging his hips upwards into yours.

You choked on your moan from the sheer force of his thrust but soon gained your voice back as he continued his rough, rapid thrusting up into your eager pussy, practically dripping, begging for a long overdue orgasm.

You collapsed your tired aching body on top of Stan, your head buried in his neck, muffling your high-pitched moans from the ears of your drunk parents downstairs.

Stan moved his hands down to your ass and gripped the flesh harshly and his thrusts were slamming repeatedly into a spot that made you clench fiercely down on him and shriek with overwhelming pleasure.

Stan groaned into your ear as you continually clenched around him, whispering filthy praises into your ear making your legs tremble and your stomach flip as your impending orgasm was getting closer and closer.

"Can you hear yourself, princess? Can you hear the noises your pretty pussy is making?" The squelching of your wetness was embarrassing to say the least and you could feel Stan smirking without even having to look at him.

As he kept hitting that same spot, you could feel yourself so close to the edge as your legs trembled and your moans grew louder and higher.

"I'm gonna- I'm gonna come, Stanny." You managed to babble out through your whimpers as you felt that overwhelming rush of pleasure build up deep inside you.

Stan lifted your head up and grabbed it with both of his hands whilst still thrusting repeatedly in and out of your sopping cunt, forcing you to look into his eyes.

He had a look of pure concentration adorning his face, brows furrowed, jaw clenched and hair messy, letting out little breathy moans of his own every now and then.

"That's it princess, I wanna see that pretty face when you come all over my cock." And the coil snapped.

You let out a scream of pleasure as your entire body jolted, your orgasm washing over you, your toes clenching and your pussy spasming around Stan's length.

You collapsed onto Stan once again, letting out tiny moans, clearly exhausted from the intensity of the orgasm Stanley had given you, and the spasming of your cunt had clearly not been lost on him as his relentless thrusting had begun to grow sloppy.

Stan was moaning quite loudly in your ear now, a death-grip on your ass cheeks as he fucked up into you, chasing his own high.

You knew he needed a little push so you sat up slightly so you could whisper in his ear breathy and raspy like someone who was recovering from one of the best orgasms they'd ever had in their life, "I want you to come inside me."

The words that make every man orgasm on the spot did not lose their effect on Stan as he let out a loud groan of ecstasy and his thrusts slowed until they came to a stop, clearly having done what you asked.

He dropped his forehead to yours and grabbed your hands, fiddling with them as you both caught your breath.

Holy shit.

You didn't know what to do as you both just lay there gathering your thoughts, attempting to comprehend what just happened.

However, you knew you couldn't stay in this post-orgasmic bubble forever so you gently lifted yourself off of Stan's softening dick and got up to look for your dress.

You were halted, however by a hand closing around your wrist.

Turning around, Stan was lazily grinning up at you with a look of victory on his face as he was dragging you to lie back down on the bed with him and you couldn't help but smile back at him, full of a mysterious feeling for the boy who was just so beautiful.

How could you say no?

Climbing back into bed with him, you both turned to face each other, him still grinning at you, and you studying each and every freckle and blemish on his skin, realising that you loved each and every one of them.

You loved them.

Oh my god.

You loved Stan.

Suddenly, you burst out laughing and Stan jumped slightly before a grin erupted back onto his face as he asked what was so funny.

You managed to get through your laughter, barely, the words that you never thought you'd say in your life. "I- I'm in love - with - with you." Before you immediately started giggling again uncontrollably.

Stan joined in on your laughter, his shoulders moving up and down from the force of his laughs as he breathed out "I'm in love with you too."

You both laid there giggling uncontrollably like a pair of middle schoolers, laughing at your own stupidity.

Once the laughter died down you smiled up at Stan and nuzzled yourself into his chest, planting a few soft kisses there as he pulled you in closer and buried his nose into your hair.

You were drawing shapes on his arms, daydreaming in the comfortable silence when you heard Stan mutter into your hair something inaudible.

You sat up gently looking at him quizzically for a second until you noticed the look of pure adoration on his face that was directed to you before he said gravelly and clearly exhausted, "I hate you so much." before he buries his face into your neck and peppered you with kisses.

You giggled and whispered, "I love you too, stupid."

[uniquezombiedestiny]

I COMPLETED HOD SUPPRESSIONNNNNNNN LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

^ my favorite line from her post dialogue :)

it jumpscared me bc i thought i had one more qliphoth meltdown to go through, but no, it was the energy quota that wasnt done yet lmao

this was a great suppression. the music scared the shit out of me on the 2nd half when i first heard it. amazing way to make use of only having one track, and i think it demonstrates hods decline better than a 2nd track (like malk or netzachs tracks) honestly

took a lot of attempts - overall all was well, but nothingv there was the one big issue as an abno who was unmanageable past the middle of the suppression. on my winning run i got lucky with it meltdowning very late into things, + i evacuated welfare/cc/disciplinary, expecting it to breach (through this barely came in use as by the time nt breached it was over lol)

and highlights from my nuggets:

-the disciplinary team dies to a violet dawn. all of them. level 1s are literally made of paper -vera both handling silent orchestra well and not panicking. good job :) -yui just barely getting a good result with queen bee when we needed it. good job as well :) -mirabelle being based as fuck the whole time. her stats have risen really nicely and shes generally become really competent now as an agent -peanut butter got promoted! (party popper sfx) her prudence went up to 2, which i upgraded further with lob

and most importantly: -NOONE DIED :D

im not even done writing yet. the post dialogue was so awesome and its so cool to see hod grow :) and for my agents, story wise things are about to kick way up. bella already has black swan, so her has her dog legs now, yuis about to corrode majorly as well, and im already on netz's meltdown. so yeah!

im happy to be going forward in lc, its been so fun since i got back to it :)

[softlittleheartsandsparkles]

if you wore lolita before... why did you stop?

Oh. I'll be vague cause my reasons are personal, and I don't want to share a lot about em.... My old coords just hold a lot of different feelings & I stopped for awhile after a relationship I was in ended. After my relationship ended, lolita fashion became a little less fun for me. & affordability for coords but also going to local (ish) meetups became harder. (My local meetups were a couple hours away, and I was landlocked, so trying to get to them, I'd be looking at a hotel stay or attempting to try to catch a 9pm ferry. Which wasn't ideal / wasn't going to happen. >.<;') You make sacrifices sometimes, and I found for me it was easier to pull away rather than be sad or anger I couldn't participate as much as I would've wanted too. :3 & I also became a bit uncomfortable, so I just ended up tucking those old dresses away. (eventually gifting them, which in the end felt the best. I was able to gift em to people who I believe would've enjoyed them.) & my mental health started to sink a lot, so my focuses shifted and I spent more energy on that and also trying to find hobbies I could enjoy locally that didn't require big travel accommodations. I do know I wore a bit of j-fashion after I met my current bf from time to time. I also like other sub-fashions and that's sorta one of the other things. = ^ - ^ = I enjoy way to much and well, my wallet can't accommodate that all. LOL (Like I like dolly kei/ natural kei / mori kei, I also really like girly kei and the subtypes. But I also really enjoy/love renfaire clothes, like corsets, the really puffy skirts, and I wanna get some more rennie clothes cause I went to my first renfaire last year and I had fun. LOL! So thats also on my list, actually rennie clothes are something I wanna work on making and diy'ing. XD its just more... I gotta figure out a time to go the the fabric store that isn't sunday, cause they aren't open on sundays. and I require patterns. LOL I'm also still really into vintage fashion, although I haven't found a good thrift shop yet for that locally. But I like vintage dresses. I also enjoy a lot of "normie" clothes too. & That all stacks up in cost. I'm also sorta at the point were I like more baggy clothes for comfort reasons, I also like my clothing to be multipurpose. Like baggy shirts I can wear all year around, or even when i'm gardening or going for a stroll, lolita I couldn't wear doing gardening or any dirty work. >.> I'd be fussing over it. "Oh no! D: NOT THE LACE. NOOOO." "FUCK I dropped an overripe strawberry on meeeeee AHHHHHH. *rushes inside with horror and majorly fussing over it*" I have wanted to do a lolita meetup tho, like a tea party. So I'm not sure. :3 I have a single dress. So I may at some point. >w<;')

[maerynaire]

My favorite thing about the D&D campaign I'm running is that of the several villains the one who they care about the most is this one king who hasn't done anything extremely evil compared to all of the other villains in the setting. Here's his competition:

-2 Space Archfey Gods with genocidal tendencies, one of whom runs a surveillance state and the other is directly behind several assassinations

-A Caligula-esque motherfucker who's mind controlling an entire country

-A God's soul split across 4 different dudes causing havoc

-Several Giant Monsters born of the corruption of the land itself

-Four Liches, each of whom negatively impacted society as kings when they were alive and have all, in some ways, majorly fucked over npcs that the party has befriended

-An entire isolationist country made up of a single cult and their goddess

-A goddess who has been actively stealing and hoarding magic for nefarious purposes

-An immortal empress running the biggest empire on the planet maintained with fascism and necromancy who has directly and negatively impacted the lives of two of the three PCs in their backstories

-A cabal of vampires who want to subjugate mortals like cattle run by a shadowy figure who's playing both sides of the conflict

For contrast the one king who they've decided is The Most Important Bad Guy has no magic, no martial skill, and engages exclusively in setting typical cloak-and-dagger/politics.

The one Game of Thrones minor antagonist is perceived as a greater threat than the Eldritch-Abomination BBEGs.

[bramblewatchescharmed]

s1e8 "Bug a Boo"

Thoughts after watching Charmed (2018) s1e8 "Bug a Boo":

For a show whose marketing was very pointed about Mel being a lesbian, it is, uh . . . Not a Good Look when it kills off a white gay man in an interracial relationship as the Victim of the Week.

It's also not a good look that all the cicada demons in this episode are played by Asian actors. Yes, there's a point to be made given the demons are running a dating app and one of them makes the comment on his date with Macy about Asian guys being statistically underrepresented and less likely to be chosen, but uh... that seems undercut with the reveal that he's, y'know, an insect demon.

Gods, the CGI for these bug demons makes them look absolutely disgusting and I am not here for it. Yeah the original had some questionable choices for demons and dodgy CGI, but Masselin was absolutely terrifying. Here, I'm just majorly grossed out.

Yeah, Parker and Maggie have been dating for five minutes so why is she talking about spending the summer with him?

Also, again, they've been dating for five minutes and he asks her for a plasma donation? (I know it's because she saw him shooting up and went with his cover story that it's a rare autoimmune disorder, which . . . I mean, yeah, you could say that, but ???).

Jada and Macy are the only likeable characters in this whole show, tbh. Jada's cool as fuck with her witchlighter powers.

Though it's kind of hard to take Jada seriously when she goes so very hard on the Mysterious Witchy Goth thing.

The Sarcana coven all in black, the Elder witches all in white . . . yeah, I'm saying it now: they're both very different types of cults, and Mel is a dumbass and manages to completely misunderstand both of them.

LMFAO at Mel walking into the Sarcana's lair and immediately being whacked upside the head with a wooden plank bc she walked in like a total noob. (She really is a dumbass, holy cow.)

I sorted at Galvin being hit by a car out of literally nowhere and that's how the episode ends.

Oh, for a rewrite of this whole season where the Veras have to figure shit out on their own and didn't go running to Harry and the Elders for every fucking little thing.

Though gods, as someone who is very gladly single, this episode makes me never want to use dating apps ever.

There is also way too much going on in this whole season thus far. I mean, you've got Mel still trying to figure out her mom's murder, the Elders vs the Sarcana, Fiona (Charity's sister), Maggie doing... whatever with her college campus and sorority, and Macy's subplots with Galvin and the university's genetics lab.

Actually, wait, I thought Macy worked for Hilltowne University as part of its genetics research lab? So why and how would a third-party company (Morningstar Biotech) move in and completely take over the lab? I don't remember if this was ever explained or not. (Yeah, the Vera-Vaughns vanquished the previous head of the lab/department, but still.)

"We all know you and Charity used to date," Mel tells Harry, except uh . . . outside of this episode it was never obvious that they used to be a couple, and the one time Harry/Charity do have a moment, it's when they're alone and the Vera-Vaughns are nowhere to be found. So how the hell does Mel know that Charity and Harry used to bang?

It's also never really made clear in this universe why witch/Whitelighter relationships are forbidden, but damn at Jada saying the Elders called her an abomination simply for being born.

Again, the Elders in this show are even worse than the Elder Whitelighters in the OG, and that is saying something, considering these Elders are all cis women / female witches.

I snickered at Hunter calling his and Parker's demonic dad "a three-thousand year old douche". This whole demon family is.... oooh boy, but at least Hunter sticks up for his younger brother.

"I'm still getting over my ex," Mel says while infiltrating the dating-app building on campus. Uh-huh, I'd have a better time believing that if she didn't literally only grieve for Niko for, like, five minutes.

[jarofstyles]

SK8ER BOI II- Ollie

A/N: oooOOOO here we go! a little more development before the rollercoaster starts. The little angsty elements make it that much more exciting though. Enjoy! - n + d

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masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: drug use (weed), cheating, smut, ass play

word count: 10.5k

The next day at school, it wasn’t hard to find Y/N. She stood with her friends as Harry skated past, waving at her as he went by. His black sweater and jeans were practical and normal wear. 

“Since when were you friends with him?” One of her friends asked with raised brows. “He’s not the most social of them all.” 

It was true. Harry tended to keep to himself and minded his own business, stayed with his group of friends and didn’t bother anyone. He hooked up at parties to be people’s bad boy fantasies and all that but he wasn’t much of a talker in social situations. Not a lot was known about him besides he smoked weed, drank, hooked up and was generally a nice guy. You could label him a stoner skater and it wouldn’t be wrong.

It was really nice to see Harry, Y/N thought it was cute that he waved when he skated past. It did bring a smile to her face. “Oh, we’re assigned partners for Mr. Beck’s anatomy class.” Y/N explained, “he’s actually really nice. Easy to work with.” She nodded and noticed Timmy looking at her with furrowed brows. “I’m going over again on Friday to work on it.” She let him know, wrapping her arm around his waist from behind and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You alright?” Of course Y/N just had to act as she would normally, she couldn’t let anyone know of her little secret. It wasn’t that hard keeping up with Timmy though, she did genuinely care about him and affection was her immediate way of interacting with him. Hugs, kisses, nothing had changed really. 

“Nothing, babe, was just curious.” Timothée smiled down at her and leaned down to peck her lips. Y/N rested her head on his shoulder and sighed, that spark really wasn’t there.

Even Harry noticed, there was no chemistry. Lighting up a cigarette, he leaned against the tree with Niall talking Zayn’s ear off, watching the couple. It looked like they were friendly but the guys’ arm stayed on her arm. The boy didn’t loop around her waist, didn’t hold her body closer— no. It was a very obvious thing to him now more than ever. 

“I’m positive he’s not into girls.” Harry said. “Nothing wrong with it but... Y/N’s hot. He’s literally not touching her at all.” He spoke lowly. His friends didn’t know he was hooking up with her and it was normal for him to have random outbursts like this so it was okay for him to say. 

“Ya think? He looks sickly whenever she kisses him.” Niall snickered. “It’s fine but, he shouldn’t string the poor girl along.” 

Harry agreed.

----

The rest of the week went by just fine but realistically Y/N was excited for Friday. Maybe it was bad of her to get all ready for him as if they were a thing, but she wanted to feel nice and look nice for him even if it was just someone she was hooking up with. Y/N had taken extra precautions, telling her mom she was working on a project with a friend but she might go to Timmy’s after to spend the night. Now. Y/N wasn’t sure how long she’d be staying, but just in case. She wanted to have as much time with Harry as she possibly could. So, she got dropped off at Harry’s around 5 after dinner, her heart beat picking up again. She had worn a set of underwear with little hearts on it, thinking it was cute. Y/N didn’t feel comfortable wearing overly sexy sets, they just weren’t her. Hopefully Harry would think they were cute. She wasn’t even sure if they were for real going to do stuff again, but she could only assume so.

He had kept an eye on Y/N and Timmy for the rest of the week and struggled to understand why Y/N was still with the dude. He didn’t pay her much attention. Sure, he would kiss her head or rub her arm but there was no physical affection. From what Harry has seen, Y/N thrived off of being touched. It must be really hard for her. He didn’t know why she went for that and stood for the treatment especially when she was barely getting anything out of the agreement. It confused the fuck out of him. Either way, he tried to stay out of it. the house was clean and Y/N was coming over and he had questions for her, so he would ask them later. He figured if it ran late enough he could order pizza and bring her home. Or whatever she was doing next. It was Friday. He was just planning on smoking and using his telescope.

Y/N texted him saying she was there and smiled up at him when he opened the door. Just as last time, the kitties came running over to greet her and she couldn’t help but smile, again dropping down to pet them all. 

“Hi my angels!! I missed you.” She giggled, letting one of them climb up onto her lap. She picked it up and nuzzled against it, pressing a kiss to its nose and hummed as it purred and went to kiss her nose. “Awe, thank you!” She cooed, setting it back down. She stood up when she heard Harry clear his throat, blushing a little. “Hi.” She giggled and brushed her skirt down. Y/N took her shoes off as usual and left them by the door before following him up the stairs to his bedroom. She’d noticed he had candles lit this time, had some fairy lights going too. Was he setting the mood? “It looks nice in here.” She complimented, taking a seat on his bed. “How was your week?” She asked, wanting to make some kind of conversation because she really didn’t want to just blurt out about how she’d been thinking about his dick the whole week.

“Thanks. M’gonna smoke a bit and look at my telescopes later so I made it cozy.” Harry shrugged. Also, it would be easier for her to be comfortable around him. A good atmosphere was important. “What about you?” He laid his laptop out on his bed. Today he was in comfortable clothes. A sweatshirt and joggers but— it was kind of hot. He had a tank top underneath, so he slid it off and let himself be clothed in just the tank. It showed off a nice amount of tattoos. His parents were cool like that. They let him get them as long as he did well. Said it was his body and his choice to regret it if he did one day. “Ah, Muffin likes you.” The orange kitty weaved around her legs, mewing to be picked up. It did indeed love Y/N and her good energy.

“Is that what you do most nights then?” Y/N asked curiously, wondering if astronomy was something he was majorly into. “Didn’t know you were into astronomy.... then again, I don’t know a lot about you so.” Y/N chuckled and blushed, swallowing thickly as she admired his tattoos. “Those are really nice by the way.” She spoke, nodding to his arm. Y/N knew she was awkward with making conversation, but hopefully he got the hint that she wanted to hear more about him if he let her. “I’m supposed to go to Timmy’s later.” She explained, knowing he probably wouldn’t like that. Truth be told, she’d rather stay here with Harry, but she hadn’t spent any time with her boyfriend this week and she felt bad. “Hi muffin.” She cooed down at the kitten in her lap, “you get as cozy as you’d like, okay?” She told the cat not expecting it to respond with a meow. Y/N looked at Harry with wide eyes when it happened, “oh my goodness!!”

He laughed under his breath. She was going to her boyfriends after getting her shit wrecked by Harry? Part of him liked it. She would go and think about how Harry was by far a better choice. There were no ifs ands or buts. He was annoyed on another part because he wasn’t sure why she kept giving the dude the tone of day, but apparently that wasn’t his business. A slight smile came on his face as he looked at her with the cat in her, astonished that she had talked back to her. 

“She likes you quite a bit.” He commented, bringing his computer to his lap. “But thanks, about the tattoos. I love em. And I love astronomy. The stars and all that stuff. My dad works at NASA, so I’d like to go there too.” He hummed. “Not an astronaut cause, I’d go crazy being trapped in a ship but... learning about it. It’s cool.”

Y/N was surprised to hear it, but her heart did swell. Something about men that loved the stars made her all gooey because they were naturally dreamers regardless if they saw it that way or not. She knew Harry was artsy, liked that he was in fact, it gave him a lot more depth. Fuck. She needed to stop thinking that way. 

“That’s so cool! You have to be really smart for that.” Y/N said, knowing he must have to be a genius to work for NASA. It was an extremely complicated job, lots of math involved, but Harry seemed to be somewhat offended at her question. “No, no— I didn’t mean it like that, I just.. sorry, I knew you were smart I just. I shouldn’t have assumed, I’m sorry.” She spoke, feeling herself blush. He was far smarter than her that’s for sure. She of course was just trying to be a teacher, well.. she didn’t quite know what she wanted to be yet. Y/N was often stuck in feeling like she didn’t really have a purpose.

“It’s cool, I get it. A miswording.” Harry chuckled as he saw her panic that she offended him. He was used to people putting him off as a lazy student because of his looks and calm demeanor. But she obviously didn’t mean it. “Yeah, it’s what I want to do. Lucky my dad is there but I’m not gonna get a job by slacking, so I make sure to get A’s. A lot of people don’t expect it of me but it’s fun. School is really easy for me.” He didn’t have to try. He was that lucky bitch. It came to him naturally. “But what about you? What do you want to do?” He was curious what she would be interested in. If she wanted to be something specific or if she was figuring it out. He could see her doing something artsy or with literature. She seemed to be a bit bookish when it came to that.

Y/N was happy to know he did well in school, glad he found it easy because she was often panicked with how difficult it could be whenever there was all too much going on. “I think that’s great though, it’s nice to have a passion.” She said, petting the kitty in her lap. “I um... I don’t really know yet. I thought I wanted to be a teacher, cause I really like little kids and I’d really like to help them learn.” Y/N explained, “but sometimes I wonder what else I could do? I second guess myself a lot.” It was a struggle for her internally but she knew she’d figure it out eventually. She did have lots of passions, writing being one of them, she just didn’t think it was worth the stress of money. She let out a deep breath, watching the cat jump out of her lap to get some attention from Harry. She went to work on the project wanting to get a lot done so that they could do stuff, if of course he wanted to. Again, she didn’t want to assume that it was a more than one time thing.

“It’s okay. It’s definitely hard. You don’t have to know now. I’m lucky cause my parents just let me find what I like and I was early on with what I liked. They put a pressure on us to know right now and we don’t have to.” Harry shrugged. “My whole side of my dad’s family is into space and engineering. It was funny when he married my mum because they’re kind of opposite? He’s practical in work but goofy as shit at home. My mom is like... the best. But she’s the one who makes sure my dad doesn’t just buy a Jeep for the fuck of it.” He laughed. Their careers and their personalities matched well though. It was easy to open up to Y/N because she genuinely seemed interested in what he had to say. Plus, it wasn’t classified information. “What do you like? You should try and look into stuff that’s like... that you’ll enjoy. No sense in working a job you hate forever.”

“Your parents seem really cool.” Y/N smiled brightly at him, genuinely happy that he had a good life. Harry didn’t deserve to feel hurt ever. No. He had a good head on his shoulders and a great support system. She felt like there was a spot for a nice girl in his life, but it seemed like he wasn’t actively searching for one? Maybe that was a sore subject. She let out a breath, “I really like writing, it’s fun for me to express myself in that way. But I don’t think I’d be a very good writer as a job or anything. That’s mainly why I said I’d be happy with teaching, cause I know I couldn’t ever be upset knowing I’m teaching little kids something... giving them a good example. Know how important it is to have good teachers that make you feel comfortable.” Y/N was really enjoying just getting to know Harry. It was easy talking to him, he was lovely, really. No judgement at all and of course he gave great advice. It was then that she got interrupted by a call. It was Timmy. 

“Hey... is everything alright?” She knew he wouldn’t call unless it was urgent.

“Hey, Uh... I don’t think we can do Tonight. We’re super busy with the committee and planning stuff and I wouldn’t be good company.” He said distractedly. He was very focused on being student body president again and he took it far too seriously. “We can go out one day next week? It’ll calm down after I get reelected!” No it wouldn’t. He was always coming up with excuses. “But— sorry, they got food and we’re working on a new slogan for the posters. I’ll talk to you later, sorry.” 

Harry could see her face fall and her lip start to tremble. He immediately felt concern, moving to sit up more on the bed and tilted his head as she let the phone fall on the bed. “Hey... what’s up?” He asked gently. Not sure what was going on but knowing that he probably should be concerned by the look on her face. “What happened?”

Of course. Excuses as usual. Y/N was trying, trying really hard to be a good girlfriend or whatever the fuck she was. God, she wanted to have a nice conversation with him today, ask him what had been up with him recently but he had been avoiding her like the plague. He didn’t like her even as a friend? Was that it? Even if he was gay, she could only hope he would tell her instead of stringing her along. Y/N wasn’t sure what to do because realistically it shouldn’t hurt her this much, but she had been with him for three whole years, been best friends before that. Course it hurts. Y/N swallowed thickly, tears starting to fall down her face as she looked at Harry. He’d think it was stupid. It was no secret that Harry didn’t like Timothée, at least to her at least. She didn’t want to look stupid. 

“Timmy he’s busy with the campaign is stuff... said we can’t hang out.” Y/N sniffled, wiping her eyes. She was crying more so cause she was embarrassed. She felt like everyone knew and she was just getting dragged along.

Anger welled in him. How many times was this asshole going to hurt her heart? How could he not see he was selfishly dragging this shit out and leading her on when she could be out of that relationship and be shown an actual thing or two about a man. 

“No... Y/N, don’t cry.” He whispered. Internally, he felt panicked but he moved over to where she sat and placed an arm around her. “It’s alright. He’s a loser for that. But I feel like there’s more to why you’re so upset about it.” He rubbed her back, trying to soothe her the best he possibly could. “Does he do this a lot?” He was curious, trying to understand her complete meltdown now from him not wanting to hang out. It had to be a common thing if she was this upset over it.

Hearing the words ‘dont cry’ only made her cry more, hiding her face in his chest. She didn’t trust her voice yet, a sob coming from her as she nodded her head to let him know it was a regular thing. 

“Sorry...” She sniffled, trying to catch her breath properly. “I’m just embarrassed...” Y/N explained, “cause he just— he’d rather do anything than hang out with me.... and you know, now I’m suspecting he might not be straight, but to his knowledge he still thinks I don’t know. So he’s just— I don’t want to pressure him into coming out if he isn’t ready either! What if he isn't?” She felt more tears fall, wiping them aggressively. “Feel really stupid for being upset cause I feel like everyone knows except for me, and he’s just dragging me along and isn’t even trying to fake it— just hurts cause you know, thought he’d want to at least hang out with me cause he thinks I’m cool or whatever but apparent not.” Y/N felt very hurt, her heart cracking because she felt like everything was falling apart quite quickly and she didn’t want to just dump it all on Harry like this.

“Woah... hold on there. He’s the idiot, bunny.” He left a pet name slip. “What type of person does that shit to someone else? You are very cool. Very pretty. There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s a him issue. A hundred percent not a you thing, love.” He was positive about that. Y/N hadn’t done anything to deserve this, at all. It made him sad to think that she could possibly be feeling as though it’s genuinely her fault. “It’s not stupid to be upset either. It’s valid. Doesn’t matter if he's straight or not. He’s pushing and stringing you along and not giving you anything but a title for it. I watched you both this week a bit. Sorry If that’s creepy but... he doesn’t treat you right. Even as a friend.” He explained. It made him so sad to think that the boy was hurting her for no damn reason. “Can I tell you something? I was wicked excited to hang out with you today. I've been looking forward to it all week. I don’t like hanging with lame people so... you’re definitely very cool.”

Y/N chuckled at his comment, sniffling a bit. “Are you sure you weren’t excited because you knew you’d get some?” She asked, looking up at him with wide eyes. Y/N wasn’t assuming he was like that, but no part of her believed she was cool enough for Harry and her tone displayed that. Harry was being very sweet to her and he absolutely didn’t have to. She could have just excused herself and collected herself and carried on with the project but he was being insistent on calming her down. She let out shaky breaths, staying snuggled into his chest because she found it to be the most comfortable thing. “Sorry I’m crying all over your shirt.” Y/N chuckled and pulled back, looking up at him with her eyes all blown. She liked him. She liked him a lot but she knew that he wouldn’t want to be involved with someone like her. She was such a baby and was scared of everything. She didn’t do drugs, didn’t go to parties, she wasn’t sexy. She just minded her business and watched anime at home.

“Woah... no, that wasn’t why I was excited. I mean, I was hoping we would do something but I wasn’t gonna push it if it didn't feel right. You’re a genuinely cool girl, Y/N. I don’t have a ton of Friends so like... it’s cool to find someone I think I can be friends with.” He was sad she felt that perhaps that was her only worth to him. It wasn’t at all. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about the shirt, I don’t want you to be sad.” He continued rubbing her back gently. Poor Y/N. She was a mess in her mind. “But you’re a lot more than just a hookup. To anyone. You’ve got a ton of worth and you’re fun to be around regardless.” He didn’t like the thought of her being sad. “We can just hang out after we finish the part we’re working on. We’re already ahead. I’ll uh... I can show you some constellations if you wanted?”

It really did mean a lot to her to hear him say that. Y/N always felt that she was constantly in her boyfriend’s shadow, always being called ‘Timmy’s girlfriend’ and never by her name at times. Y/N wanted to be her own person, liked that that’s how Harry saw her. It made her feel all warm inside. Her eyes rested up again but she didn’t cry, a smile finding its way to her face before she practically jumped him with a hug. Y/N squeezed him tight, nuzzling her face into his neck. 

“Thank you.” She mumbled quietly against his shoulder, holding on to him tight for a while. 

“I’d really like that.. the constellations.” She told him quietly as she loosened her grip, but stayed hugging him closely. It felt really nice.

“Great. There’s a ladder I have— we can get up to the roof and look at ‘em. It’s safe.” He had been up there so much that there was a railing on the roof his dad hired someone to put up. Just in case. “In the meantime, I can order pizza or something while we work? By the time it gets here we’ll be done.” He suggested. Feeling the nod in his neck he smiled, grabbing his phone and calling his favorite pizza place. 

She had stayed in his lap while he ordered, his fingers going up and down her side as he got them a cheese and pepperoni as well as some of those cinnamon dessert sticks. She needed it after a hard day. Harry didn’t like physical touch all that much when it came to strangers but he already considered her a friend. 

----

Working went by rather quickly after her little cry, they’d both decided they had done a lot of work today so they started packing up and Y/N was getting more relaxed. She had put her stuff in her backpack and moved it off of his bed by the door so they had more space. He was getting ready to go outside, gathering some things. 

“Know you said you were going to smoke, you still can if you want, don’t want to ruin your night.” Y/N said softly, standing beside him as he opened the door to the roof. It was really cool how he had a place to look at all of the stars, his family must be extremely proud of him. 

Harry helped her climb up and gave her a blanket to lay out while he brought all of his stuff up. He seemed really excited to be doing all of this and that made her smile, she was excited to get to know him on this level, hear him talk about things he was passionate about. 

In Harry’s eyes, she couldn’t ruin his night. Not when she was excited to learn about the stars and things like that. She didn’t make fun. Instead she accepted his passion and was eager to have him explain. He grabbed some of his equipment, bringing it up so they could look at the planets visible if they wanted to. The door was closed so the cats didn’t follow them up there, Harry also bringing a sweatshirt for her to wear. It felt weird, giving a girl a piece of clothing to wear. Usually he hooked up and left. But Y/N deserved more respect than that. She was hurting. 

“Here— Uh, you can wear this cause it’s a bit chilly.” He murmured, handing it to her to put on as he put the telescope down and sat down next to her. She did, and he was happy because it was getting nippy out even though during the day it had been warm. “Let’s see... let’s look at constellations first and then I can show you my telescope and see other stuff.”

Y/N felt really cozy now that she was wrapped up in the warmth of Harry’s sweatshirt. She’d seen him wear it earlier, he also wore it to school. It was a big navy one that said, don’t trip. She knew that this didn’t mean anything though, he just didn’t want her to be cold is all. She pulled the sleeves up over her hands, pawing them up for optimum comfort and laid back on the blankets with him so it was easier to see. She scooted closer, looking up at the clear night sky. It was quite dark outside, but the moonlight illuminated everything just enough for them to be able to see what they were doing. Y/N was looking up at a bunch of stars, clearly, but she only knew a few constellations. 

“Alright then, educate me, Mr. Styles.” She said with a small hum, just joking around with him.

“Starting simple I suppose. So... up there.” Harry pointed, getting close to her so they would have similar lines of sight. “That’s the Little Dipper. And right over there? The big one.” He traced them outline with his finger. “When I was little I wanted to be a star. Everyone thought I meant like an actor or something but no. I literally meant I wanted to be one of the stars.” He chuckled. “I study them instead. But it gets a bit overwhelming sometimes.” He adjusted his body so theirs were pushed together for optimum warmth and accuracy. “Each of the stars that makes up the constellation is a different galaxy. Our sun is a star. Isn’t that wild? Like... we are the stars in other universes. We are in their sky.” He paused. “At least if you believe in that sort of things. I do.

Y/N moved so that she was laying on the inner part of his arm, closer to his chest. It was a lot easier to look at them this way. She gasped as he pointed out the two, smiling because it really was beautiful. “You know... I have freckles that look like a Little Dipper on my arm.” She was really proud of that, and felt like he would appreciate the little fact. “Aren’t some of them like... based on Greek myth and stuff?” She asked curiously, naturally nerdy about those types of things. Y/N liked all kinds of mythological stories, loved hearing about what they were meant to teach people. She didn’t necessarily believe, but sometimes she wanted to. 

Harry was very comfortable to lay on. They hadn’t exactly cuddled like this before, but she hoped that it wouldn’t be the last time they did this because she was much calmer now. She felt a lot more relaxed.

“Mhm. There’s Orion and his belt. The seven sisters. You can see them over there.” He pointed each one out. “The seven sisters is a star cluster that I particularly like. I always wonder what lies behind them. If it’s incredibly hot wherever it is because of the nearness of the stars.” He liked feeling her lay on him like this. It was relaxing. She was good to lay around with. “I suppose we’ll never know the absolute truth, unless a new technology comes out that allows us to go light years. Or aliens. Either way.” He was joking but also, not really. He believed in aliens. “Over there  is the Gemini constellation. The twins. Also an astrological sign. Leo, the lion. Pisces. Represents Aphrodite and Eros tying themselves together to escape typhon, the worst monster in mythology.” Harry murmured. “I sit for hours out here and just stare. I know it’s a bit weird but it’s comforting at the same time it’s scary.  That we’re so small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things but... our beings can mean the world to someone else.”

Y/N nodded along, listening intently as he spoke. The sound of his voice alone was soothing, but she found herself turning her head to look at him instead of the stars an awful lot. She thought he was beautiful, especially in the moonlight. She needed to cut it out though. He was a good friend to her, she shouldn’t be getting too ahead of herself when she had just found something good. 

“Think it’s really cool... always wondered about stuff like that. Space is really scary but very fascinating.” She said and let out a sigh, “if you ever want to talk about it more, we can...” Y/N blushed, genuinely wanting to hear random space facts if that was something he wanted to do. 

She was finding that the little crush she’d always had on him was for good reason. He was a really cool guy. Really really cool. He was so relaxed and laid back, the amount of calmness he displayed was incredible. Maybe hanging out with him more would teach her to relax better.

“Yeah? You’re cool, Y/N.” Harry smiled at her efforts. She was really trying. Really, really trying to be a good friend to him and god if it didn’t make him want to make out with her. “Did you want to smoke with me? If not, I can sit at the roof door and we can talk from a distance so you don’t get any of the smoke.” He questioned. Harry didn’t want to pressure her but he did feel like perhaps she would like it. “It’s not scary or anything.” He could see her internal debate. “You’ll probably cough a bit at first. Some people are different. You’ll also probably be hungry, and it does make you a bit more horny than normal.  At least it does for me, 100%.” He laughed. Y/N could benefit from it. “But I like it cause it makes me feel a lot more relaxed and loosened up. It feels nice to not worry about tests or the future for a bit.”

Y/N looked at him with a bashful but curious gaze, “I um... yeah, I’d like to.” She said with a nod. It seemed like a good idea, relaxing? being hungry and horny? Sign her up. She knew he wouldn’t put her up to anything that could endanger her, besides, he did it all the time and he was just fine. She sat up and watched as he took out a little box, pulling out a ziplock bag of green clusters and a circular object. Y/N watched as he broke about a green cluster and placed it into the object, twisting it to grind up the weed. He meticulously rolled up one perfectly packed joint, pulling out a lighter before setting the box to the side. She was a little nervous, but he made it look so easy. Y/N watched as he lit it and inhaled with ease, it looked simple enough. She just had to breathe in. He passed it to her with no rush and she brought it to her lips and inhaled. Y/N felt the smoke fill her lungs but she did start coughing, getting used to the sensation. 

“That was so weird.” She laughed a bit as she coughed but took another hit nonetheless, this time a bit more prepared.

“Yeah, it can be trippy when you first try and do it but it gets better.” Harry smiled at her attempts. It was admirable that she was so easily trying new things. It was something he liked about her. She didn’t judge much. They passed it back and forth and Harry had the bright idea to move everything inside before he was too lazy to, first bringing down the telescope and then helping her down the stairs. 

“Wait— look at this. Lay on the bed.” He grinned, watching her confused face. He turned the lights down and flicked on the star projector that filled the room with many star-like projections. It made his room look like space. Even better when high. He hopped next to her in his bed. “What do you think?”

Y/N knew that she’d feel all floaty when high, but this was really cool. Everything felt like it was in slow motion. She carefully maneuvered down from the roof with Harry’s help, pulling off the hoodie because she suddenly felt very warm. 

“Woah!” Y/N’s eyes went wide as she looked around the room. “You didn’t show me this last time!” She looked at him with a look of wonder. It was very much amusing. She laid back and closed her eyes a bit, just soaking in the moment and how much it smelled like him in his bed. “Feels really nice...” She said lazily to him, “can you come here please?” Y/N asked, her voice going all cute and soft. She just wanted to cuddle again. On the roof it was really nice and she thought it would be even nicer on a bed.

“Yeah, sure.” Harry liked her clingy. She was lovely this way. Being high made her ask for things she wanted, apparently and that was good for his sake. He immediately was met as a cuddly Y/N when he moved closer to her, letting her curl up next to him. Harry was feeling things out but he was curious to know what she liked. What she would want to do if they continued hanging out. 

“How do you feel? Both being high and hanging out with me?” He wanted to show her how it felt to have a true friend. Someone who treated her nicely. That oui oui baguette boy obviously didn’t treat her how she needed to be treated. “You want to be friends with me, right? Cause we could do this shit all the time. I smoke with Zayn and Niall but they’re like, suuuuuper obnoxious with it.”

Y/N happily swooped her leg over Harry’s hip, her arm moving around his waist while her head rested on his chest. She sighed feeling finally comfortable, letting out slow and relaxed breaths as he spoke. 

“I feel... floaty. Like, I have no thoughts yet somehow I can form sentences? It’s strange, but very cool.” Y/N giggled and shifted her head so she could breath in his scent a bit better. “I do want to be friends with you, you’re really nice.” Y/N spoke honestly, “if you would rather smoke with me or just hang out, we can hang out whenever you want...” Now that she was high she wasn’t really thinking about how things came out, she was sort of just saying them and hoping for the best. “I’m hungry.” She mumbled, “but I’m also comfy.” Y/N huffed, making it out to be the biggest dilemma in human history. She sat up though, remembered they had gotten pizza and smiled when she saw it sitting over on the coffee table. “Harry! You’re a genius!” She smiled and went to grab his cheeks. She kissed him once and got up to go grab the box to bring over to them.

He was surprised at how quickly she had kissed him, scurrying over time the pizza box and coming back to him. It was amazing. Y/N was sitting there looking all sorts of innocent when she had just kissed him and not even thought twice about it. She was munching happily on the pizza and he took a piece as well, letting her get comfy as they sat up on the bed to eat. 

“I’m glad you want to hang out with me. I’m a cool guy sometimes, I think.” He had been told many a time that he was cool by his friends but it felt good to know she wanted to be around. 

“I think you’ll like my friends. They’re idiots but they mean well.” He did love his friends even when they were stupid. They went to parties together and mooched off of the free alcohol. “But I definitely don’t kiss my friends like I do with you. Nothin’ against them, they’re attractive but, I’m not into beer breath.”

Y/N did a little happy dance while she munched on her pizza, focusing on getting as much as she could into her belly because it seemed like she could swallow the whole earth. “You are a cool guy. The coolest. Everyone at school wants to be friends with you.” She said honestly, knowing the hot gossip. “But I win.” She giggled, taking a sip of her water that she had laying next to her. Y/N felt herself getting full but then again she did just finish her third slice. The cinnamon sticks were her next victims, she let out a moan at the taste. “Really? Well, I don’t really kiss anyone like I kiss you anyway so....” Y/N shrugged, basically saying that he was the only person she kissed with passion and desire. Yeah she kissed Timothée but kissing him was more of a chore now that their relationship was falling apart.

“Yeah? That's a good stroke to my ego.” He did like knowing Y/N was happy with kissing him like that. He couldn’t help but be a bit proud of that. “You’re a great kisser. But if you keep moaning like that I’m gonna be tempted to bend you over.” His threat was lazy but he would happily play with her again. He wasn’t sure about fucking her. He didn’t want her to regret it. But she had the best ass and beautiful tits and he wanted to see her naked. “What? Don’t look shocked. You’re makin’ me hard with that moaning over food. You’ve got a sexy as fuck voice. I like Hearing it. Plus, I’m already attracted to you and know what your pussy tastes like so the weed isn’t helping my cock.”

“Well, I am a bit shocked.” Y/N chuckled, “Didn’t realize I was doing anything.” She blushed, putting the cinnamon sticks down because now they were getting into some serious talk. “I like when you talk like that..” Y/N told him, smoothing over her skirt a bit to try and distract herself but it definitely wasn’t working. The weed was definitely giving her a bit of confidence, mostly because her anxiety was shut off and she was just speaking freely. Of course, she still had that sweet innocence to her, that wouldn’t go away no matter how hard she tired. “Obviously haven’t done anything except for what we did the other day so... know I’m not exactly the sexiest.” She chuckled and looked up at him. She was aware of some of the different things you could do during sex but she wasn’t one to research. It made her feel gross watching other people, most because she didn’t find the men attractive and that was kind of the most important part.

“You’re sexy. Don’t say that about yourself cause you 100% are incredibly sexy.” Harry stopped that right away. He didn’t like her thinking that she was anything but a sexy little thing. “I love your innocence but... trust me. The used panties I came all over prove that you’re hot as fuck. You’ve got a dirty side. Just haven’t tapped into it yet.” He hummed. “I’m glad to know that you like me talking like that. You’ll be happy to know that I am willing to teach you or talk to you about anything you’d want to know, including sex. That much I am a very hands on teacher.” He wiggled his brows to make her laugh. “Do you wanna know somethin?” He asked. When he got the curious look he continued. “I couldn’t stop staring at your ass the other day. When you wore leggings. You stood right in front of the tree my friends and I stand outside of. You got excited and jumped a bit and your ass jiggled. When I tell you I was half hard the rest of the day...” He really was. “You’ve got the best ass. M’obsessed.”

“Really?” Y/N was intrigued. Did he really want to teach her about sex? Would he show her things and make her feel the way she felt the other day? It seemed like an offer she couldn’t pass up at all. “Not turned off by how I don’t know stuff?” She asked with furrowed brows, it was always something she was insecure about. “I know literally nothing though... I don’t really like watching porn it makes me feel gross.” His little story about her ass though? That made her rather excited. She had worn leggings because she had gym that day, thinking that her shirt would cover enough of her ass but clearly it didn’t. Not that she really cared because it was Harry who was looking. “Usually when I wear leggings I don’t wear underwear.” She said mindlessly as she took a sip of her water. “Is that something you like then? Are you like.. a butt guy?” She asked curiously, wanting to know more about what he liked. “I know you... you have a lot of sex, yeah?” Y/N asked with a blush, feeling like she’d get jealous if he answered.

“You weren’t wearing anything under them?” Harry felt his body want to explode. “Just walkin’ about with  no panties and.. fuck me.” That was unfair. Cruel, really. He didn’t have his hands on her that day, and he would think of it every day forward. “I am an ass guy. I love tits too, don’t get me wrong but... there’s something about ass I love. But— I mean, I don’t have a ton, no. It depends. S’like an itch. If I need to scratch it, I will.” He could tell she would be disgruntled if he told her about his sexual escapades. “I know enough to teach you stuff. Whatever you’d want to learn. I’m not too shy of a guy when it comes to that stuff so you can ask me whatever you want. As long as you don’t mind me being dirty mouthed when I talk.” Harry got off on words. So knowing she was interested in asking things? He loved that.

“How often do you have an itch?” Y/N asked, raising her brow at him. Y/N did want to know, part of her did even if she would get a bit pissy about it. She had no reason to be territorial, but she just wanted to be the only girl he went to when he did have an itch. Y/N liked whatever they did the other day, no one had ever made her feel like that. She felt so sexy and beautiful and good. “I don’t mind.” Y/N shrugged, moving closer to him to get comfortable again. “It’s hot in here.” She sighed, getting up off the bed so she could take off her little corduroy dress. It still wasn’t enough though so she simply stayed in her little white socks with a laced rim and her set of underwear that had the cute red hearts on it. She slid back down on the bed and looked up at the ceiling, “okay so like.. what do you like to do most then? Obviously there’s the actual sex but like, describe your fantasy. Mine happened the other day so honestly everything’s sort of free game now.”

“I swear to god, you’re my wet dream.” Harry closed his eyes as he tried to center himself. “Jesus... look at you.” He muttered, rolling his eyes over her body. “Love this shit. You’re not trying to be sexy, you just are.” His finger ran over the waistband of the panties on her hip before pulling back. “I like.. well, I love anal. Of course I love pussy, specifically the idea of cumming in one. But I haven’t done that yet. M’not into the idea of knocking up someone random but. I can’t lie and say that it isn’t something that’s hot to me. The idea of like... owning someone like that. A part of me in them. It’s hot but a lot of girls would think I’m actually trying time get them pregnant.” He rolled his eyes. “But I love dirty talk. have a filthy mouth and I know you’re aware of it.” He laughed quietly, pinching his bottom lip. “But yeah, I like eating pussy. Obviously. I like dirty shit, but anal is definitely something I love. Think it’s cause it’s a bit wrong in some people’s eyes. And ass is tight as fuck.” His eyes took in her curves. Yeah. Her ass would be the tightest. It’s never been touched. “What do you mean... your fantasy was the other day?”

Y/N was pleased that he liked her little set, “I did wear it for you in all fairness.” She shrugged a bit and flipped over so she was laying on her stomach, looking over at him while she rested on her elbows. Definitely so she could have her ass up and her tits on display. That was a subconscious choice though. “Never even touched my butt in that way before.” Y/N spoke innocently, “does it feel good?” She asked, genuinely curious. Everyone has an ass so of course maybe he’d know how it felt. “Oh, I’ve like... I’ve thought about what happened the other day a lot. Like, sitting in your lap and having you touch me like that and stuff... really like your hands, I think about them a lot too. And your lips, they’re like perfectly plump.” Y/N didn’t realize he didn’t know she had a crush on him. Her high brain assumed she’d told him.

“It does, but you’ve got to work slowly if you’ve never done it before. Some people like pain so they don’t work themselves open before but I always say that you should... ya know, get fingered or licked out back there and make yourself relax.” He wasn’t surprised she hadn’t touched back there though. “I’m interested to know... you’ve thought about me before? I didn’t know this. I didn’t think you realized I existed much.” He raised a brow, eying her ass. He moved a hand down to rest it on her lower back, playing with her panties. “My hands? That’s interesting. I’m just shocked you knew me. Let alone had those thoughts about me. Wow... that’s fucking cute.” He grinned. “What else did you think about me doing to you?”

Y/N looked away from him bashfully, simply letting him touch her however he wanted to. She really liked his forwardness, it got her going. “Yeah... I’ve had a crush on you since freshman year.” Y/N admitted, playing with her hands. “Thought about you a lot, cause like... you’re what I wanted timmy to be like.” High Y/N clearly spoke freely. Y/N had to think about his next question because in all honesty, she didn’t really know. “I haven’t really thought about anything else like that, just the basic stuff... I don’t know about all of the other things, I know lots of people are into different things.” Kinks, she was talking about kinks. “Is there anything like that that you like? Like— stuff that when you think about it you get all gooey inside? Or sometimes it makes you feel really alert and squirmy?” Y/N asked, remembering how often she’d see him and get that way. “Always liked seeing you skate and stuff, like your jaw gets all clenched and you look kind of angry... liked how big and ruff your hands are... and your arms they’re nice too.”

“Yeah... I like some stuff.” Harry coughed. Fuck, he was gonna tell her too. He was liking the honesty between them as well, knowing she was happy to blurt out shit like how she liked his hands and arms and when he got angry. “Kinks... there’s a lot of things I like to try. I don’t think they count as kinks but I do enjoy spanking. Like, I’d kill to spank your ass. See my handprint on it. I like kinda rough stuff. Don’t let this scare you though cause— we don’t have to.” He warned her. It wasn’t intense stuff but he was aware she was a complete virgin. He didn’t want to scare her off. “Like... choking a little. Hair pulling. Spit exchange. I loved when you squirted on me, it was messy and hot and that shit gets me off. S’why I came so fast.” He murmured. “Also would love to try overstimulation on someone. Make ‘em cum as many times as they can take. Toys. I have a few I’d like to buy but I don’t have people who come round to fuck. I wouldn’t do it at home with a rando. so... you’re definitely special.” He laughed. His hand was sneaking lower. “Mm, I love a bit of power exchange. And I like to be called Daddy. Fuckin hot.”

Y/N was very intrigued, her pupils likely blown out by the idea of Harry doing all these things to her. If he liked that kind of stuff, she’d definitely try it, because the other day she felt so good. 

“The other day you made me cum like three times and it hurt but like.. it felt good?” She explained, “think I like pain though.” That would explain why she liked the concept of him spanking her so much. She liked the idea of being someone special for him. If he wanted to try stuff with her he could, she just wanted to be adored. It was then, when he told her he liked being called daddy that she felt herself whimper. She was getting really horny just talking about all of this stuff, but she was mostly curious about the ass stuff. So, she decided to be bold because the weed was giving her a new found confidence in her relaxed self. Y/N looked at him for a moment, feeling his hand resting on her ass. She moved it up against his hand and let out another little whine.

“Daddy? Can you play with my bum please?”’

Well, fuck. That was something. Something Harry really, really wanted to do. 

“Christ...yeah, I can do that.” He whispered, happy that she was as into this as he was. Because— he definitely was. He moved, rounding her body so he could get the perfect view, the perfect angle so he could touch. He groaned when she stuck it into the air for him, swaying back and forth. She was trying to tempt him, and it was working. He gripped her hips before pulling her towards him, letting out a breath as he took it in. “Fuck me. You've got... the perfect ass.” He whispered, running his hand over it. Pulling the panties up so they were right on her , shaking them a bit before letting them go. “You... are so much trouble, little thing. Aren’t you? Gonna drive me mad.. walkin’ round in leggings with no panties on. Daddy’s gonna have to grab you and play with you next time I see you in them to check.” He muttered, beginning to peel them down. “Fuck, you’re soaked again.” He could see the wetness still stringing to the panties and he used a finger to catch some of it, licking it clean.

It was becoming clear that Y/N was less shy when she was horny. It was the one this she wasn’t afraid of asking for, especially after having that whole conversation with him. She liked knowing what he liked, now she could bring it up if she ever wanted him to touch her. She let out a pleased squeal when he pulled her towards him by the hips, leaning down when her knees brand so her ass could be as high up as possible. Y/N pulled a pillow down so she could rest her head on it and look back at him. She moaned at the idea of him pulling her away at school to mess with her. 

“You always make me messy, daddy.” She told him, lifting her legs so he could pull her panties all the way off. Her cunt was needy, absolutely so, but she was intrigued by the idea of ass play. He seemed to be really into it too so she wanted to see him get all excited about it. “Can spank me if you want..” She gave him the go ahead, “Wanna try everything..”

He didn’t take a second chance. His hand came down, firmly on her ass. The panties off, he could see the skin jiggle under his hand and the pink mark begin to show, her squeal doing more to arouse him. Obviously she liked it, so he did it to the second cheek. 

“Naughty little girl. Hm. You like daddy’s hands spanking you.” Harry said with pleasure. “So gorgeous.” He rolled it in his hands, squeezing hard on the freshly spanked skin to watch her writhe a little bit. “So you’re dirty like me then.” He hummed, grabbing at her and gently pulling her legs apart. “Let’s see that pretty hole.” Of course it was pretty. Never been touched, small. He was going to wreck it. Even if it wasn’t today. “Fuck. M’gonna fuck this hole if it’s the last damn thing I do. Fuck me.” He leaned over and spit thickly on to it, thumb rubbing gently over it in circles. Letting her get a feel for it.

Y/N liked it. She liked it a lot and it scared her because she was unlocking something she wasn’t sure she was ready to face. That was a problem for sober and none feral Y/N to face, right now she was too busy loving every second of it. 

“Mmmmmmm” a long whine came from her as he rolled it in his hand, hands gripping at the pillow. Her legs spread with ease, her eyes closing as she relaxed the best she could. Y/N felt her cunt throb at his words, hearing him spit and feeling it drip down made her go absolutely insane. “Daaaaddyyyyy!” She whined, moving her ass back against his working thumb. Y/N was learning that she was also very impatient. Her cunt was in desperate need of attention and the thumb on her ass was only getting her more worked up. Thank god she’d showered before coming here and she was clean as a whistle.

“That sounds good coming from your mouth.” Harry whispered as his fingers ran over her ass. It was fine now to play with her. Y/N was a needy girl and he was finding this out day by day. “M’gonna play with you. Just lay and take it.” He settles and ran his tongue right on her hole. He knew she had never had this before so he wasn’t surprised when she jolted, but he simply spread her legs open again and took another lick. It was lovely. Not only because Harry genuinely liked eating ass but Y/N squealed, body squirming a bit with each lick. She was mouthy too, saying little babbles of how odd but good it felt.

Just lay and take it.

Oh my did Y/N like the sound of that. The feeling of him licking at her ass was different than when he ate her cunt. It was definitely pleasurable but not the same. Y/N didn’t think she could cum like this, but then again, he hasn’t exactly put his fingers in or anything. 

“Feels nice..” She hummed as she got used to it, hands tightening around the pillow. My god what was she doing? She had a boyfriend for fucks sake but this felt so damn good. Y/N couldn’t stop seeing Harry after this whole project thing ended. She needed to do this again, wanted to do this all again. It really couldn’t be anyone but him. He did say he was going to play with her, what else could be in store? “Ah! Daddy!” Y/N squeaked, feeling him poke his tongue inside. Tingles spread through her at the feeling, it did feel really good. It was then that she felt him press his thumb into her, her ass tightening around his finger. It was so unfamiliar, but she knew she just had to relax. 

“There we go. Not gonna do too much today work this. Gonna finger you and let you feel it, see the pleasure.” And then eat her out and cum on her ass. It sounded like a good plan. He slowly worked his thumb into her, moving down and licking from clit to her entrance. His thumb worked at her hole, giving her an abundance of sensations. “Hm. Maybe I’ll get a little vibrator and we can put it in your ass while I lick your little pussy. How’s that?” He asked. It was obvious that they weren’t going to stop doing this for a while. He was teaching her all about it now and he wasn’t going to stop. Not now. “Mm. Tastes so fucking good.” He took his thumb out, working in a longer finger. He wanted to fuck her ass with it while he licked at her pussy. “Feels nice too, hm? Havin’ me touch you everywhere?”

She whimpered at his offer, “please daddy..” Y/N pleaded all huffy and needy from the sensations. She was feeling him everywhere... it was making her go a bit crazy, especially because it seemed like an insane amount of teasing. It all felt really good, her whole body was feeling the waves of pleasure and all she could do was lay there and take it like he said. 

“Like it so much, daddy... I want to feel more of you..” Y/N knew he would only give her little bits of newness each time, but she really wanted to feel like one with him. She wanted to feel him properly, look him in the eyes and have him make her scream for him like he had before. Y/N was a whiny horny mess all over again, Harry having unlocked pleasures that she didn’t even know existed before today. “So good to me, make me feel so good..” She wished she could thank him in some way, help him out but he was insistent on showing her stuff.

He had made her cum 3 times again. They were even bigger than before and she had in fact squirted again but he loved it. After cleaning up, he had her lazy, fucked out and high body laying on him as he relaxed. 

“We’re gonna be good friends.” He hummed. Part of him was worried though. Because very quickly he was feeling a bit of a want for her. One where he could kiss her anytime he wanted but, she still was technically in a relationship. Regardless if he treated her shitty, it was still a title and he didn’t know how to ask her if she was going to break up with him. Did he even want a relationship? Would she want a relationship with him? Was he just a bad boy fantasy? 

Regardless, it didn’t matter. Y/N was going to be his friend.

She pressed soft kisses to his chest, relaxing he had yet to get shirtless or naked for her. It was always her. But maybe that’s just how he wanted to keep things. On a friend level. 

“Mhm...” Y/N hummed and again nuzzled her face into his neck, pressing soft kisses to his skin. “Thank you again...” She spoke just below his ear. “You me feel special.” Y/N was positive he was an angel sent to her. He truly made her feel like she was some heavenly being, made her reach highs she’d never felt and helped her let go of all the things that have her anxiety. She didn’t know how she could possibly thank him for it, but she would somehow. It wasn’t going to be hard to keep this from Timmy considering he barely hung out with her anymore, but she was going on a date with him sometime next week like he promised. She needed to talk to him, ask him about them and how he felt about them and why they weren’t having sex. She needed to get to the bottom of it.

The weird thing was, Y/N made Harry feel special too. And that scared him a little bit. It was difficult to get Harry to the point where he felt a deep connection with someone because he did fear a betrayal. Granted, he was the one helping her with a betrayal of someone else but... it felt so different. With the girls he slept with before, it was clear cut that it was only one night and it didn’t mean anything besides scratching an itch. He couldn’t say that about Y/N. He cared about her. Even more so finding out she had had a crush on him. It would hurt her more if he was a dick. She was sensitive emotionally and Harry was mindful of that. But he didn’t want to get attached when she already seemed attached to Timmy. He would have broken up with him by now if he was in her position. He wondered why it was taking so long. But either way— he wasn’t going to sleep with her fully until she was single. Just in case.

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

[part 3]

A/N: the saga continues.... they really do get bold - n + d

let us know what you think!

masterlist

[msookyspooky]

Ms. Spooky, may you spare some HC for the terrible trio (YES, I have named stu, Billy, and us that. What about it???) for us? 🙇🙇🙇

Abso fucking lutely!! I'm just going with this story since a total hc of everyone for all 3 installments feels too broad.

Headcanon's for the Trio for Terrible Trilogy Specifically:

GPS just came out for cars in 01 when this series took place and your Honda definitely didn't have it so you all rely on MapQuest printed out or a good old fashioned map.

Billy is an excellent map reader. If you get lost, give him the map and he will find whatever beaten down road he can to get you all on the right track.

Stu is a landmark guy. Landmarks and directions like 'straight, left, right' sort of thing. Maps are too all over the place for him while Billy's brain cannot remember directions without a visual aid to show him wtf you're talking about. If you lose the map then rely on Stu. "Nope, wrong way." "How do you get that?" "Because it was left, right, left, then that giant rock over there near the road so you made a wrong turn because we should have passed that rock by now."

Stu is a bottomless pit. He has a oral fixation where he has to chew on something and is prone to bored binge eating if you let him. Get that boy snacks and cinnamon gum or he's freaking grumpy enough to rival Billy the whole trip.

Stu was brought up from money and was expected to pursue business like his Dad but always was a "I don't have a dream job who the fuck wants to work?" sort of guy (Same). That's why he's okay with swindling, job hoping or pursuing such a risky job as acting bc he could care less about a career even if he wasn't on the run. Billy on the otherhand was more than willing to have a career as a lawyer to make his Dad proud until this happened.

Your anxious about all of this. Even without the murder, you've been alone isolating for roughly 3 years now just to be thrown into a bustling Hollywood set. (Seriously I relate bc my social skills sucked pre pandemic and now after quarantine; talking to ppl in public feels like pulling teeth oml)

You updated your wardrobe as you got older because you liked how you looked at the party at Windsor. You just didn't have much opportunity to wear leather pants or a lace camisole off your property until now.

Randy went through severe depression when he woke up from his coma and had to have assistance walking the first few months. You and his family comforted him and tried to be there for him but he was still majorly depressed at how his life turned out. He started working out to make it easier along with physical therapy and kept it up as a lifestyle change from then on.

Randy and you went on casual dates here and there after Randy recovered. He rejected it at first thinking you were only doing it out of pity. Both of you soon tried to consider going steady but realized you were better off as friends. It brought you both closer though in a platonic way.

You still wear Sidney's locket when you can.

Dewey and Gale dated and it was hard on Dewey with how much you both dislike one another. He tried to purposely push you two together but gave up when Gale made a remark and it turned into a huge argument there after. Dewey partially blames Gale's hostility towards you, someone he views as a little sister, as part of the reasoning of their break up.

You all argue over the radio. Billy is strictly rock, grunge and heavy metal music (He does like some country and pop but if you found out he'd have to kill you) Stu likes punk rock, nu metal and pop punk but he can just as well jam to rnb, hip hop or pop. He's not nearly as much of a music snob as Billy tries to be.

Billy definitely likes the dark hair on Stu but won't admit it and Stu likes the leather trench coat Billy wore but...Yeah. They're stubborn assholes.

You have ONE pair of sunglasses in your console you all fight over. You remind them the driver gets first dibs and everyone else has to suck it up. (Stu bought some cartoonish dollar tree sunglasses Billy refuses to wear)

Stu has seen all the Stabs, you refuse for obvious reasons and Billy only saw the first one and turned it off when he saw how they portrayed his defeat at the climax. He bitches about the awful wig they gave his actor

Billy is secretly super stoked to see where all his favorite Horror movies took place and how they were made no matter how much he acts like he's not interested. Him and Randy are more alike than they both want to admit as far as interest go.

[tastic-blog]

So, inspired by a recent first time viewing (how did i make it this long? No good answers) of The Holiday, I now present to you my Christmas gift to the internet 

A Comprehensive Ranking of Romcom Sweaters by Sadness

Join me in an exploration of the knitwear of these dreamy eyed seekers of love, hearts full and arms covered! Their faith: true. Their choices: frequently bad. Their necks: cold.

Two notes before I begin! First- a lot of my very serious research came from the When Romance Met Comedy series of essays by @carolinesiede This series is one of my favorite things on the internet and you should all check it out

Second- my love for this genre is deep and sincere, as is my love for sweaters. Those who dismiss either out of hand may see themselves out.

OK LET'S DO THIS

0/10 Clueless

 

None percent sadness. Your hair is thick and shining, your schemes are manifold and successful, Daddy's sucky Italian roast is doing exactly what you intended. Let your arms bask in the sun in your sweater vest of youthful triumph.

(Note- the presence of sweaters in teen romcoms are rare. Sweaters are for olds. A teen wearing a sweater is generally a nerd, a cynic, or a cynical nerd. Just another reason why Cher Horowitz is an icon.)

1/10 When Harry Met Sally...

Only a slight tinge of melancholy. Sure, Sally's been on some bad dates recently and she could probably stand to get laid. But it's autumn in New York and she's a fucking avatar of emotional well-adjustment. The sweater is perfectly fitted and perfectly tucked. God, she's in such great shape. 

+100 bonus points for Crystal serving proto Chris Evans in Knives Out realness

2/10 While You Were Sleeping

This ranking may appear controversially low, as Lucy Eleanor Moderatz is pretty fucking sad. She is alone at Christmas. Her beloved father is dead and she's fantasizing about an asshole she sees once a day from a public transit token booth. But you guys. This sweater. I've been searching for this sweater since 1995. It's enormous, yet beautifully shaped. It's the platonic ideal of coziness. SHE CAN LITERALLY HIDE PRESENTS IN HER SLEEVES. Sandy B is getting a break on the rent and peak Bill Pullman is about to lean over her, she's doing fine.

3/10 Bridget Jones Diary

Not great, but not precisely sad. Mark Darcy is at a shitty party wearing a dumb sweater and is about to thoughtlessly fuck up his romantic life. But his parents aren't the most embarrassing in the room, and he's got wine and gherkins. Things could be much worse. 

4/10 Practical Magic

 

The sadness of Sally Owens is legion, but she cried in her PJ's and she's got more pressing concerns now. She's got daughters to take care of and a thriving skincare business to run and an undead rapist to send to hell. This is a sweater that acknowledges that your sister is a glamorous fuck up with terrible taste in men, and then is ready to get down to business. It's lightly fitted, with the breathing room for serious magicks. 

(Maybe rethink the hair clips tho)

5/10 (500) Days Of Summer

 

This is where things start to take a turn for the more majorly sad. Tom is pretty pathetic. This is the saggy, washed out cardigan of a man who thinks that liking The Smiths is a meaningful character trait. It needs to be lain flat to dry, and so does Tom. But he still gets up in the morning, puts on a tiny tie, and goes to work. His depression is functional, and so is his sweater.

6/10 The Holiday- Cammy D edition

Amanda is sad in the way that only the thin, unhinged, and inexplicably wealthy can be. She has no friends. She doesn't know how to pronounce esophageal. The pristine whiteness of this cable knit is terrifying; the reckless abandon with which she waves a glass of pinot in front of it, even more so. You know that shit is dry clean only. Truly, a sadness touched with insanity.

7/ 10Love Actually, Colin Firth

The heaviest, darkest, most turtley-necked sweater to wear on a sadness vacation, sorry writer's retreat, in fucking France. What kind of whiny sack falls in love with someone with whom he cannot communicate at the most basic level? She's in her underwear, he's in an itchy monstrosity 3 sizes too big. This plot line can eat me like that collar is eating his chin.

8/10 Breakfast at Tiffany's

Who gave Holly Golightly the right to be so sad and look so good?? I spent my twenties sobbing on dozens of fire escapes and never came close. In a movie of iconic fashion, this sweatshirt is pre-American Apparel nonsense. Her soul is empty, but her hamper is apparently full because that's some laundry day shit. Her sad sweater is so sad, it trudged north and grew a depressive turban companion. 

9/10 High Fidelity and Love Actually 

 

Aka the asshole division. Above, a terrible boyfriend turned into a worse ex boyfriend in the worst fucking sweater I've ever seen. It's a Cosby sweater.  A COSBY SWEATER. And below, a creep who turned filming his best friend's wedding into an opportunity to stalk and who keeps that video WITH THE REST OF HIS REGULAR VIDEOS AND IS THAT A DETACHABLE COLLAR?? At least Rob exhibits some growth, Stalker McGee over there gets a kiss on the cheek and a pat on the ass from his movie. These guys are jerks and their sweaters are terrible.

10/10 The Holiday- Kate Winslet edition

 

The nadir of sartorial desperation. Like its wearer, Iris' sweater has given up. It has no color, no shape, and no options. It is a formless mass that won't even keep your neck warm, thereby necessitating The Stringy Scarf of Sadness. It is literally a sweater in which to contemplate suicide. Thank god Eli Wallach is waiting in the wings, because this is as bad as it gets.

Ok, I'm gonna go watch While You Were Sleeping. THANK YOU AND GOOD NIGHT

[ommsims]

story process challenge

i was tagged  by @xldkx​​ to do this challenge, created by @herpixels​​​ , like a month? a month and a half? ago and it’s been sitting half finished in my drafts for nearly as long. *sigh* (regardless, i love stuff like this so even if it takes me forever to get to it, i appreciate the tags! 💕). 

i decided to answer all the qs because it took me damn long enough to get to this, so i might as well put some extra elbow grease into it (plus it was fun!). btw it’s all going under a cut b/c it is long. i apologize in advance.

1. My Writing Process - used to be a hot damn mess. literally word docs strewn throughout my pc. However, I recently switched to using Onenote (it’s what i use to organize my d&d campaign notes) and hoo-boy is it so much nicer. this is how it’s set up and it’s honestly night and day. i can have a page with outlines, a page to organize & order screenshots, and a separate page for drafting text, and i can easily toggle though them without having to switch windows? a big thumbs up from me.

When it comes to actual writing- I used to write my drafts in novel format, which i enjoyed but it made “converting” them into tumblr posts time consuming and frustrating. I ended up scrapping most of the text in the process, retaining pretty much only the dialogue. 

Anyway, nowadays I write in more of a screenplay format: dialogue only + key scene information with the occasional note to self. 

I do keep a master “arcs” page with key events and each individual character’s arc from beginning to end and secondary “outline” pages with slightly more detailed outline for each leg of the project. No screencaps b/c spoilers galore! 

My typical work flow process for a scene goes: (1) brainstorm scene ideas, (2) take screenshots, (3) organize screenshots into a rough storyboard, (4) add 1st draft of text, (5) edit photos, (6) edit text, (7) upload to "drafts” here on tumblr, (8) let sit for a bit (9) take a final look at things/proofread and edit as needed. It may sound counterintuitive, but i find it much easier to write dialogue for a set of images rather than attempt to take images based on prewritten text. I feel more comfortable editing and tweaking tone and content in the text this way. Otherwise, I get frustrated when I “can’t” shoot a scene exactly as it appeared in my head.

2. How I build my scenes - A lot of what i do is rooted in gameplay, therefore my sets are usually (a) play-tested and (b) not super pretty. I’ve certainly improved at decorating & building over the years but more often than not I download lots off tumblr and the gallery because I don’t have the patience, aptitude, or time to build all of my own sets. That being said, I frequently gut builds only to build a number of completely unrelated mini sets inside to reduce the number of times i have to replace lots. I also keep a list of “important locations” and where certain characters live / will move to, to help keep this all straight as there aren’t nearly enough lots per neighborhood or even per world in this damn game...

my least favorite part of scene building is actually decorating. lol. Don’t get me wrong, I love clutter. I honestly do. but fuck me if i expect myself to spend hours meticulously decorating a set, spend another 3 hours toggling back and forth b/w BB & live modes adjusting things to get rid of the damn routing errors. (yeah, yeah, i know i could ignore them, they’re not important, especially in those scenarios where i’m using a set for screenshots and nothing else, but idk. it really grinds my gears.) and then have to replace the lot like a week later because there aren’t enough lots in the game. *sigh*

3. CC/Pose Making - i do not consider myself to be a cc creator nor a pose maker but i do dabble occasionally. And to be completely honest i’d much rather spend my time doing other stuff, so it’s not high on my list of priorities atm. plus there are so many talented cc creators in this community; i can usually get by with what’s already out there.

4. Getting in the zone - Honestly, I do a lot of brainstorming for plot & dialogue in the shower. I don’t have any particular playlists to get me “in the writing mood” but I do enjoy listening to music as I work. Either instrumental stuff or simply artists/songs I like. If something just so happens to “fit” a scene I’m working on, one i’ve got planned, or even just gives me vibes for a certain character or group, I add a quick note to the top of said scene’s draft. Most of the time I stick it in the recesses of my brain and add a quick link when I finally get to the point of posting the draft to tumblr. For whatever reason, when I have one of those “oh this song is perfect for X” moments it’s essentially ingrained in my mind for the rest of eternity. 

5. The screenshot folder - this will most likely give some of you out there major anxiety. but i swear it’s an organized chaos. :)

yep. 32.9gb of screenshots & related things... 

So with the raws from a single random scene selected, you can see i take roughly 10 screenshots per image posted. not terrible i guess but i’m working on it. Typically I take screenshots and once I’m done editing a scene I’ll move them from the general folder to a more specific project folder.

6. Captions - I’ll answer this in three parts:

for my townie story. not really. I prefer using the text box. I tend to write (& re-write) the dialogue for each one of these scenes several times over as I add more “scenes” into my drafts. It would be incredibly inefficient, time consuming, and would waste a lot more space on my pc to have to save .psds of each image just so i could edit dialogue when I decide: “oh hey maybe so and so needs to bring up X in this scene” and then change my mind an hour later.

for niko, noor, & co. I’m a text on image type gal here. don’t really know why, but it gives the project a different energy. ironically it makes it feel more laid-back to me. which i guess makes sense, it’s a much more light-hearted “story” than my townie project. which is, imo, very soapy haha.

for legacy stuff. all text goes below the images in the text box. reasoning: it’s gameplay, I don’t brainstorm, outline, or pre-write for this. I play the game, take screenshots, plug ‘em into my drafts and write some commentary / dialogue to go along with it.

7. Editing - i am a creature of habit and have not majorly changed my editing process in probably a year and a half (when I began using reshade and had to adjust my color correcting psd). it’s a super basic system:

drag & drop my “color correction” psd.

run actions in ps. (i made my own “all-in-one” actions to really streamline the process; i have different “actions sets” for my premades’ story and for other things that get posted to tumblr. even if no one else notices it, i like the little details that keep my projects separate and “identifiable”. 

voila. all set to upload.

sometimes i crop images, add “text effects”, or do more in depth editing (i.e. editing a phone screen or adding rain etc.) but overall i try and keep it simple for myself. 

8. Throwback - i posted an image of one of the first (but never posted) scenes I’d written for my townie project up above. but as for how would i redo a scene i’d already posted. well i’m currently re-doing my townie story so i guess i’ll just say you’ll see how it’s redone when i get to part 1! 😉

anyway, no tags because i’m so embarrassingly late to this party but if you hadn’t gotten around to this tag, wanted to do it but didn’t get a tag, or started it and left it to sit and now you’re thinking “oh god that was months ago should i even post this anymore?!?” consider yourself tagged by me and go ahead and post it for all to see!

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

Nacho Memories || Cece and Kaden

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Hospital PARTIES: @thebickedwitchoftherest​ and @chasseurdeloup​ SUMMARY: Kaden brings Cece some nachos while she’s in the hospital post scream. They go say hi to another friend. CONTENT WARNINGS: Memory loss, noncon (memory magic done on someone without consent) 

Cece was getting tired of Gossip Girl. Honestly, what station had so little of their own content to air that they decided that the best alternative was to show an entire day’s run of Gossip Girl? Had they even watched the show? It might have been okay but in 200- whatever but it was 2020. The show didn’t age well and wouldn’t stand the test of time. She shot off another text to Regan, a long string of one sided messages with nothing but the small check mark indicating that the message had been read to even prove to Cece that Regan was getting them at all. She had some fucking nerve. If you’re going to shatter a girl’s ear drum the least you can do is text her back. Cece deserved that much. Instead, Regan seemed content listening to Cece parody her own version of Gossip Girl through text. She was sitting in the hospital bed cross legged and shoveling jello in her mouth. The nurses hadn’t taken her seriously when she had asked for jello shots, so this bland shit would have to do. When there was a knock at the door, Cece groaned. But the door opened and thankfully it wasn’t a nurse or doctor and instead Kaden strolled in. Ironic that Cece heard from her bosses boyfriend before her actual boss following the incident. “Kaden! Thank god. Save me from this. It hurts my ears. And I’m not just saying that because my ears actually hurt. This show is going to make my ears bleed again.”

Kaden hated hospitals. A lot. Just being inside the doors made his skin crawl. Deep breath. He could do this. Plus, he needed some way to help this situation. There was shit all the Kaden could do for Regan at this point, she’d made that clear enough. If she wasn’t going to go to the hospital and check on her co-workers, her friends, that she put there, the least he could do was stop by. And he had to hope that Regan would be here if-- Well, if a lot of things were different.

And anyway, Cece was his friend, too. He didn’t know Grace half as well and it drove a pit deep in his stomach wondering if she had anyone coming to check on her. He sincerely didn’t know one way or another. He’d have to be sure to find out. He knew first hand being alone here was one of the worst feelings. “Hey. I brought nachos,” he said with a rap on her door as he swung it open. “I’m not sure if this passes for real food but it’s Blanche approved. I figured it’s better than whatever crap they were going to give you here either way.” He’d thought about smuggling wine in for her but something told him that was a bad idea, against the rules or something. He could only imagine the horrified look on Regan’s face at the mere suggestion. Right. Only imagine. He didn’t know how long he’d only be imagin-- No, not right now. “Putain. Why the hell are you watching that crap? There’s gotta be something better.”

“You’re a lifesaver, dude.” Cece tossed the jello onto the swinging tray and shoved the rack away from her, extending her hands in anticipation for the trashy junk food she had been craving for… well okay technically it had only been a day. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t hungry. “Well if cabbage patch approves then it must be quality food.” Cece laughed, wincing at the sudden pain in her ear but ignoring it. As far as injuries went, Cece’s had been the least traumatic. She hadn’t wanted to waste much time being a Debbie downer. “I don’t know, if I stop watching now Regan will never know what happens next. I think she’s starting to get attached.” Cece shrugged, opening the line of unanswered texts and showing it off to Kaden. She didn’t waste any time diving into the nachos, “You’re like my guardian angel. But scruffier. And moodier. And I never really pictured my guardian angel being French. Other than that, carbon copies.” In the middle of eating, she remembered that she had completely forgotten about Janus the janitor. She had checked on Grace, which had gone about as well as a nuclear meltdown, but his well being had slipped her mind completely. Whoops. “After I get done absorbing these nachos, I need to go check on a good ol Janus Jr. Care to tag along?”

“No problem. I’ve been in hospitals enough to know the worst parts,” Kaden said with a small shrug. Cece seemed like her perky self at least. Well, for the most part. He didn’t miss any of the scrapes and cuts, likely from exploding, broken glass. And the wince. He’d been around enough hunters to know that look when things were too loud. Guess he’d have to find a way to balance his voice between what she could hear and what would be painful. His stomach sank even further. It must be at the floor by now. This wasn’t his fault. And yet somehow he felt responsible in some way. He insisted Regan wasn’t dangerous. If he was honest with himself, part of him still was. It felt more and more like a lie every time. “You’re texting her updates about Gossip Girl?” he said, raising a brow, trying his best to push away the bile threatening to creep up his throat. “No wonder she’s ignoring you.” He tried to make it feel like a joke but it barely did. Regan shutting Cece out was shitty. Really fucking shitty. He wondered how long she’d be frozen out. Hell, he wondered how long he’d be frozen out even if it wasn’t as severe as hers. “Ah yes, just what I wanted to be. Truly, my goal in life. Maybe soon I’ll earn my win--” Putain. His foot seemed to take permanent residence in his mouth. Along with the bile. Fuck, wasn’t he here to make Cece feel better? Couldn’t even get that right. Then again, looking at her scarfing down the nachos, maybe he wasn’t doing too bad. “You are? Uh, yeah, sure. You checking on him or what?”

“You want some of these?” Cece decided to be nice and offer a few bites to Kaden before she accidentally finished them off herself. Luckily for her, she didn’t think she’d be in the hospital much longer. She had gotten off relatively easy, and once their results came back hopefully confirming that her brain wasn’t cream of wheat soup she was ditching this place so fucking fast. “Well I tried the whole normal texting her before this and she kept leaving me on read. I figured my best tactic is to just annoy the hell out of her until she has to reply.” Seemed like a good plan to Cece. Kaden began making a joke, one that she could only assume ended with wings. “What’s wrong K Den? Fae got your tongue?” She put heavy emphasis on the name, remembering the days of tiny Regan. If she hadn’t flown out a window and almost died, the entire scenario would have been very laughable now. Once the nachos were cleaned out and Cece had just held herself back from licking the container for the grease, she dragged herself out of the bed, “Sure. Yeah. Checking on him. Something like that.” Close enough at least, “You make sure I don’t fall over. My balance is still all fucked up.”

“All yours,” Kaden said, waving off her offer. Even if his stomach wasn’t churning, he didn’t need to unsettle it more by eating whatever horrors awaited in the pile of nachos. The thought of Regan getting a play by play of each and every episode of Gossip Girl made him laugh. Just a little. “Well hopefully it works. I think she’s pretty shut down. She’s at D--” His words stopped on the tip of his tongue. He wasn’t sure that he was allowed to tell anyone where she was. It felt like a secret. Another one. One that wasn’t his to share. Not even with the person she nearly-- He bit the inside of his mouth a moment before pivoting. “She’s at a friend’s. For now. I mean I don’t know how long. I haven’t-- But at least she told me.” And made it his responsibility to let everyone she cared about know she was alive. Right. He knew she was hurting but more and more this felt unfair. Little things all stacked together in a pile he hoped didn’t fall and crush him under their weight.

“Yeah yeah, Celery. Very funny.” Kaden sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. As fucking stressful as it had been when she was lost and five inches tall, at least that one wasn’t her fault. Not that this was ei-- No. He wasn’t sure. It felt wrong thinking that this time. Even though it was essentially the same as every other death scream that she couldn’t predict or control. That didn’t make Cece or Grace any better off, though, did it? That didn’t make his duty as a hunter any-- “Uh huh. That makes it sound like you’re up to something,” he said, snapping out of his stupor just in time to catch her brushing her intentions under the rug. “I’ve got nothing better to do, why not. We’ll go when you’re ready. Just, uh, maybe stay on my left side. Right shoulder, uh, it... “ Maybe Morgan had a point about telling people when he got majorly injured. “Sort of got shot the other week but I’m fine. Just probably shouldn’t hold even your weight on that side. But hey if I make it worse, at least I’m in the hospital, right?”

“You got shot?” How had Cece not heard about this? “I’m going to start needing a weekly newsletter from you to catch up on the various ways that you’ve been injured.” Cece groaned. Could they go one week without some near death experience? “Oh yeah. I’m sure you’re so fine. Must be why I’m supposed to stay on your life side. If you weren’t already injured I’d punch you.” She still might, depending on her mood later. “Fine. Guess we can be injured together, wobbling down the hospital hallways like a couple of complete jackasses.” And they definitely did walk down the hallway that way, passing by Grace’s room where the door remained shut. Literally and figuratively. Cece’s speech hadn’t gone over so well with Grace. Now Grace was pissed at both of them. Maybe she could at least befriend Janus Jr. At least, assuming one of them didn’t die. That was what the whole scream thing was for right? Did Banshee’s scream for themselves? Or was the list narrowed down to three people? Did Regan have to be near them for the scream to work? Ignorance had never been a favorite of Cece’s. She hated not knowing.

The hospital door to his room was open and empty. Cece poked her head in to confirm that he was awake before sliding in. “JJ! Dumb question, but how are you feeling?” Cece gave him a thumbs up. He didn’t look much better than Grace had, with gauze wrapped around his head and a paleness to him that wasn’t comforting. “You know Kaden, right? He’s-” Maybe right now wasn’t the best time to mention that he was dating Regan. “An officer. He’s an officer. Works with the police department so we wanted to come check in. See how you were doing.” Janus perked up, if only for a moment. It looks as though a jolt of pain had mellowed him out again. Sitting up too quickly probably did it. “Miss Bishop. I’m glad you’re okay. Have you heard about Grace? I can’t believe what Dr. Kavanagh did. I’ve been trying to tell people, but nobody wants to believe me. I barely believe me. It’s crazy right?”

Oh boy. Cece didn’t like hearing any of that. “I’m okay. Grace will be too, just needs to rest some more. That’s actually what I’m here to talk about.” How to gracefully approach this subject? Cece had never been one to excel in tact. Glancing over at her current partner in crime she didn’t get the feeling that Kaden did either. “I think this was all some kind of misunderstanding. Just a weird fluke with no correlation at all. It doesn’t add up. So I was thinking, we all keep this little bit to ourselves? Maybe not mention Regan to people if they start asking. Until we figure out more.”

Cece had thought she had worded it nicely enough, tried to make it fit a narrative where they were doing it for good instead of just for Regan’s sake. Janus Jr didn’t agree apparently. “Miss Bishop I know what I saw. She could have killed all three of us. And she’s still on the loose. If we don’t tell people about what she did she could hurt others.”

“I forgot to tell people. And look, I’m fi--” Kaden’s jaw clenched down as he felt a sharp prick of pain through his side when she leaned on him, even though it was the good side. “I’m fine,” he assured, biting down and doing his best to keep any grimace off his face as they hobbled down the hallway. He prayed to every deity he didn’t believe in that Queenie didn’t walk down the hall at that exact moment. It would be just his luck. There was no way he was getting conned into staying in the hospital himself. That was an insult to every injury, physical or otherwise, he had just then and he couldn’t fucking handle it. He was held together by thread bare stitches as it was.

She was all charm and business as soon as they stepped in the room. Only Kaden didn’t know what business it was. He gave a small wave at the janitor when they entered. He visited the morgue enough that he recognized him, though not so much with the gauze on his head. He looked awful. A chill ran through him. If this had been caused by any other supernatural, by any other monst-- anything else, Kaden would have had his knife ready, out hunting, ready to save the day. He felt like he should apologize again. Was this going to keep happening? Putain. It only got worse once Janus started talking. He was upset and in pain and trying to tell people about the banshee who put him in the hospital. Even if he didn’t have the right words to describe it.

Kaden felt like the world might start spinning and reached out to brace himself on the frame at the end of the bed, but he thought better of it, clenched his fists and kept them by his sides instead. Cece had introduced him as a cop, not as Regan’s significant other. He didn’t know her angle just yet, but he could follow her lead. He swallowed down the panic, rolled his shoulders back, and exhaled any doubt that was creeping in, hardening his gaze to wipe any trace of emotion from his face. Then he realized what Cece was here for. To keep Janus quiet. His stomach churned again but his stare remained firm. Janus had a right to complain, to feel slighted, to want some justice for what happened. If it had been Deirdre who screamed, this conversation would be very different.

But it wasn’t Deirdre who screamed. “Are you dead, Mr….” Kaden didn’t know his last name. Putain. It wasn’t Junior.  “Janus. I’m sorry about your injuries. But you look like you’re still in one piece. Unless I’m mistaken.” He wasn’t sure Cece had experience with trying to wave the supernatural away from the uninitiated. Probably Either way, Kaden did. He was a hunter. This was par for the course. They had to keep the secret of the supernatural where they could. Let people live in peace. The success rate, well, it depended. “Speaking of, I don’t think you’re listening to Miss Bishop here. You might want to. For your sake.” He loomed over the edge of the bed and his eyes burrowed into Janus Jr., staring daggers into him. Kaden pushed aside all thoughts of his injuries and the guilt he felt by gaslighting this man. But it was for the best. “Dr. Kavanagh is not on the loose, we know her location, nor is she even a suspect at large. I think you might be mistaken. Would you like to try this conversation again?”

Cece liked the whole menacing act that Kaden had going. The first time she had ever met Kaden was him coming to kill those giant lobsters that had decided to raid her back yard. She knew that he wasn’t just all talk. She didn’t know his conviction when it came to strong arming humans. Especially helpless, sad ones like JJ. But maybe brute force wasn’t the only option here. Especially if his vague threats worked to scare Janus off.

“What’s happening here? Are you trying to protect her?” Janus asked, a panicked sound beginning to build in his voice. Cece and Janus Jr had always had a friendly enough relationship. Maybe the two were besties or anything, but they had conversations whenever he came around to clean up an area. “Why would you do that? She almost killed us. And then she just ran.”

Well, Cece couldn’t exactly argue against that point unfortunately. They could have died probably. Cece didn’t tend to hold that against a person, former coven life and all. But not everyone had the same experiences she had. “Janus. I need you to understand that Kaden and I are just looking out for what’s best for all of us. It’s harder to explain, so we just want to hold off until it makes more sense.” Logic had to work, right? This counted as logic, probably.

“No. No! You two are trying to threaten me into staying quiet! What about Grace? What about me? If she does whatever she did again then someone could die next time!” He was being way too loud for comfort now. Eventually, nurses would catch on and come in to check on them and in this frantic state, get Cece and Kaden thrown out. Talking wasn’t going to work here.

“Fine. Fine” Cece held her hands up in surrender and stepped away from Janus’ bed, “We didn’t want to threaten you. That wasn’t the plan here.” She took a few steps back and met eyes with Kaden, lowering her voice to barely a whisper knowing that he would still hear her. “Kaden. Close the door.” Her eyes flicked towards the door leading into the hospital hallway.

Yes, he was trying to protect her. Kaden hoped like hell it didn’t flash across his face like a neon sign lighting up. It felt like less and less like he had a grip on anything resembling his hunter code or training and somehow it was still twisted and wrung in the wrong direction given the application. He was supposed to protect humans from monsters. And here he was doing the exact opposite. His face felt flush. He breathed in and exhaled the panic and guilt away. Maybe he’d pick it up later. For now he was protecting the secret of the supernatural. And that required action not emotion. Upholding the code always did. “It’s not going to happen again. I can assure you that.” His words seemed to do little to comfort the man. And who could blame him. Everything Kaden said still probably sounded halfway underwater at best.

The man only got more frantic and Kaden shared a glance with Cece. He didn’t want to use violence. Not after— it wasn’t right. He’d been through too much already. And he was just a janitor, who could he possibly tell? His mother’s voice rang through his head, all the consequences of leaving open threads. But it wasn’t what stuck. It was Regan. If a warden caught wind of a banshee, more than they already had, a dangerous one at that, she was— Inhale breath, exhale the fraught. He nodded to Cece and followed orders. He closed the door and stood guard, waiting to see if she needed him by Janus or not. He still didn’t know her plan but he didn’t need to. He’d learn long ago how often it was better to just follow without asking questions.

“What is he doing? What are you doing?” Janus didn’t sound any less panicked, but Cece had never been more calm. She was in her groove now, something she had done so many times before. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and put on her best smile. “Don’t freak out. I’m not going to hurt you. I just need to make sure that we’re all on the same page here.” She moved over to his bed, his eyes widening in panic. “Seriously, JJ. Have you seen me? I’m five foot even, what could I possibly do to hurt you?” She pulled the old wooden chair that sat off from the bed closer to it and leaned against it, propping herself up. “I don’t want to do anything. I wanted to check on you and make sure that you’re going to be okay. I wanted to make sure that we all had each other’s backs.” Clearly that hadn’t been the case, so looked like it would be plan b instead.

“I want you both to leave. Right now.” The voice wasn’t nearly as friendly as it had always been in the morgue. Understandably, Cece supposed. Though she still wished that things could have gone differently. “I’m going to call the nurses!” He raised his voice, arms fumbling around for the call button. Cece gently placed her palm over it to block his grasp. “You want to know a secret about me, JJ? I’m a witch.” If it was even possible, his face paled even further. He looked like nothing more than a ghost by now. “I know, I know. Unbelievable right? Turns out they’re real. And so are banshees. That’s what Regan is. There are even hunters that have super strength,” Cece gestured over to Kaden still standing by the door. “Crazy world, right? You’ll see that super strength here in a minute.” By now, Janus was in hysterics, whining and thrashing about. It wasn’t easy to watch, but if Cece was going to protect Regan and keep Janus and Grace safe this was how it was going down apparently. “No need to throw a fit, dude. You can yell as much as you want. There’s a sound barrier around the room. No noise gets out of the bubble.” She turned to Kaden, “He’s going to hurt himself if he keeps thrashing around like this. I need you to hold him down. I won’t be long, and he won’t tell anyone about her.”

Kaden did what he could to ignore Janus, not respond to any of his questions, verbally or otherwise. Simply stood by the door and watched Cece, eyes hard, stare cold. At the harsh tones from the janitor, however, he tread closer to the bed, slowly making his way back to the bedside, just in case. Cece had his hand when he tried to call for the nurse. Good. What was less good was the witch spilling all her secrets. And Regan’s. Even his. His expression betrayed him for a second, his brows pulled together and his eyes went slightly wider as she continued on. What the hell was she doing? That was going to make it better not worse. “Cece,” he said, firm, but a brief hint of a question rising at the end. Why was she telling him this? What the hell was her plan?

No. Don’t question. That wasn’t his role, that wasn’t part of the code. Kaden trusted Cece. He had decided that when he followed her into this room and every moment since. Now wasn’t the time to stop simply because his stomach was upside and in a tangled mess of knots. Still, he didn’t need orders from her to know what it was he was being asked to do. As the janitor thrashed and panicked, Kaden reached over and pinned the man down by his shoulders. The harsh look on his face should be enough to convey the message to stay still, don’t move. If he moved it would only get worse. In theory at least. Looking at Janus’s frightened eyes was too much. He chose to focus on an earlobe instead. “What are you doing, Cece?” he asked, voice steadier and sharper than it has business being while he was holding a scared, injured man down to a hospital bed awaiting whatever magic his friend planned to perform on him.

Cece rubbed her palms together in preparation. Magic was exhausting. Use too much of it and it could knock a perfectly healthy person out for a day straight. In Cece’s current state, she would have to be precise. She couldn’t spend any time wasting the little energy she had. Memory magic was exact, she had to know exactly what memories she was trying to extract or she would end up wrecking the man’s entire life. At the moment, between the specificity of the memories and Cece’s own exhaustion she was walking a fine line. This was risky, but she couldn’t see much of a choice. If she was forced to pick between the janitor and Regan there wasn’t any choice to make. “I’m helping him forget.” Cece tried to put it in the kindest terms she could manage. For Janus’ sake and her own. She pressed a hand against his forehead, feeling the man still strain against Kaden’s grip. Tough luck breaking from those super strength biceps. She moved her hands to either side of his face, pressing the tips of her fingers against the man’s temple. As she began concentrating, her finger tips began glowing. They would be hot to the touch because of the building magic, though Janus wouldn’t be able to feel it. The memory magic worked to put him into a coma of sorts as she shifted through. He would finally stop struggling against Kaden as Cece closed her own eyes to begin searching.

The morgue was first. She dug into his memories, pulling the day prior’s events. She needed to be careful. Pull out too much and she risked permanently harming the man. Too little and he might begin memories bits and pieces of the memory and fit things back together. He needed to get every moment from the time that he walked into the room until he was unconscious and taken to the hospital. The energy drained from her quickly. Her face broke out into a sweat and she struggled to finish the memory out, pulling everything free and pulling her hands away. “I’m gonna need your help.” Cece admitted, glancing over at Kaden, “I’m almost done. But I’m tapped out on energy. I need to steal some of yours.” She wasn’t asking as much as filling him in on what had to be done. “All you have to do is grab onto my arm when I start again.” Once the two were on the same page, Cece touched his temples and jumped back in for the second part of his memories.

If he were to look down at himself from above, Kaden was pretty sure with some objectivity he could see how wrong this was. He knew it deep down from where he was standing. But he forced it away, focused on holding Janus steady. He didn’t want to break any bone, but he couldn't let the man move or get away. Memory magic. To help a banshee. No, not just a banshee. A woman that he loved. Who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. She didn’t do it on purpose. She had no control. And none of that was her fault. He felt Janus’s pulse pounding beneath his grasp, wild and frantic, could feel his breaths, short and panicked while Cece dug into the man’s mind. This man didn’t do anything wrong either. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. His grip loosened. Just for a moment. He felt the janitor’s arm slide, just a touch, and Kaden snapped back, tightened his hold, made it a little firmer.

Kaden hated this. It was easier to just ignore it, zone out, let it happen. All the same, he wanted it to be over. And he thought it nearly was. He was ready to let go and move away when Cece said something about help. “What? Energy? My--” Kaden grumbled. “Putain.” People were always draining his energy for magic. At least this time he wasn't at risk of getting possessed by a poltergeist. He hoped. “Hurry up.” He sighed and adjusted his hold on Janus before he reached out to her and took her arm as she started carving out the man’s memory again. Make it quick was all he could hope. His resolve could only last so long. His mother was right all those months ago. He was slipping on his training.

Almost done. Cece kept reminding herself that as she dug into this innocent man’s life. She had really wished that he had just agreed to keep his mouth shut. She found the hospital next. She had to pull every word that he spoke to the nurses. Any thoughts of Regan. In the end, it had been easier to just wipe everything from the hospital. From the moment he regained consciousness up to the moment he lost it again when Cece began the spell. It wasn’t clean or neat, but it got the job done. Best case scenarios, the person would wake up feeling completely normal after memories were pulled. If the job was done swiftly and precisely. This had not been the case. By the time Cece pulled away Janus Jr she was breathing heavily, dizzy and slightly nauseous. Even with Kaden’s help it had taken a lot out of her. “I’m done.” She fell back into the chair that she had pulled up earlier. Between that and the sound barrier, she had tired herself out completely. A glance at Kaden told her he was in a similar situation. Though she couldn’t tell if he was physically tired or mentally from what they had just done.

“Miss Bishop?” Cece heard his voice first. She had been leaning against the back of the chair while facing towards the ceiling. She only moved when she heard Janus Jr’s voice. “Where are we? What happened?” She stood up too quickly, blood rushing to her head and forcing her to pause. “Hey! You’re awake! There was an accident at the morgue,” Cece began glancing over at Kaden and shrugging. At least it looked like it was a success, “Bad wiring. Some lights exploded and you got knocked down. I think you hit your head or something. The alarms started going off. It was chaos.” The lies came easily to her, and as she explained them the door pushed open and a nurse came into the room. “We shouldn’t keep you up to long. You should get some rest, okay? Kaden. Let’s let JJ rest.”

The second Cece said she was done, Kaden let go and backed away. He knew damn well Cece knew what she was doing, had seen her work magic quite a few times now, and still, every time he forgot just how powerful magic could really be. It was easy to think of his friends who were casters as human and just his friends who wouldn’t harm anyone. That was, until he saw them work. Until he saw just how easy it really was for Cece to wipe a man of his memories. Sure, she was barely standing now and he rushed over to stand beside her, just in case she passed out, but all the same. Looking at Janus, blinking at them, asking them questions, as friendly as he was when they’d walked in, it was almost hard to picture the trashing and frightened look on his face. Almost. “Yeah, that’s what happened. We just stopped by to check on you, that’s all.” Kaden didn’t see any hint in the man’s eyes of recognition or questioning beyond some basic confusion. It had worked. “Yeah. Let’s do that.” He followed her out of the room, keeping close by as they hobbled back, more weary than on their way here. Kaden considered asking her about that, how often she’d done it, why she really thought that was the only thing to do. Had she done it to Grace? He realized, though, some questions were best left unanswered and some memories were best left forgotten.

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

Decryption_Error: “Beneath the Bright Lights”

Summary: As the holiday season begins, Y/N sees a side of Elliot she had nearly forgotten about. However, Darlene is able to hit the reset button for her brother, and Elliot and Y/N end up having a memorable, happy holiday season.  

Decryption_Error: All Chapters

A/N: ** Lines/Story credited to the show, not me.

Word Count: 9100

Tags: @sherlollydramoine @rami-malek-trash @teamwolf2411 @limabein @txmel​ @alottanothing​ @ouatlovr @backoftheroomandnotbelonging​ @moon-stars-soul​ @free-rami​ @ramimedley​ @hopplessdreamer​ @sweet-charmie @polarcrystall​ @hah0106​

If you want added, removed, or if I’ve missed your request, let me know : )

Warnings: Angst, Verbal attack, Marijuana use, Smut (18+ up, please)

Gif Credit: @s-k-y-w-a-l-k-e-r​

“We could just . . . not pick her up?”

“She’ll love the organized chaos of a high-society social. Maybe she can even do some networking?”

Even though I couldn’t see it, I knew Elliot rolled his eyes; I chuckled and lightly smacked his shoulder with the back of my hand.

We were on our way to pick up Darlene before heading to my parents’ house in Greenwich to kick off the first event of the holiday social season. Every year, on the Saturday before Thanksgiving, Dad hosted a party for the members of the board and his investors. It was a way to maintain relationships, form new ones, and offer a thank you to everyone who helped with the company’s growth.

The general public was committed to its characterization of what it was like to be an owner of a company on Wall Street—bouncing from meeting to meeting before sitting in an office to bark out orders like a ringmaster in a circus, whose priority was not to entertain but to squeeze the most money out of every person in the tent or to squeeze every ounce of productivity out of every employee. In reality, owning a company meant maintaining a huge social jerk, a near-constant stroking of egos in order to reassure some of the most insecure people, who also happened to be some of the most wealthy people, that you weren’t going to lose the most important thing to them: their money.

This party was especially important because Dad was announcing his retirement. Normally, this created a drop off in stocks because people panicked. Out with the stability they had always known and in with something new. If there was anything people with money hated (aside from parting with it), it was change.

And Elliot wasn’t interested in any of it—he didn’t understand the need for it. Or perhaps it wasn’t that he didn’t understand it, but that he didn’t approve of it and was not willing to risk hurting my feelings to say so.

I had just returned from a business trip in Denver, and I was so insanely paranoid there would be another attack while I was gone. I was the one who had to deal with the brunt of the board and didn’t want to risk placing that kind of pressure on the new Senior Manager, JaLeah, or even Ali. But as of this evening, there were no further cyberattacks on our company. In fact, DoS attacks were down by 15%. Typically, there are surge of attacks close to the holidays like there had been on the Fourth of July.

Elliot’s voice startled me out of my thoughts, asking, “How many people are going to be there?”

“Many, many people, but since it’s at our house, you can hide in my room when you’ve had enough. You look handsome, by the way.”

He was wearing light gray pants, a nice slim-fit chino. He had donned a navy sweater over a white dress shirt and tamed his hair into a side part. He looked nice, normal, at least in the way I knew he envisioned normal.

He reached over and took my hand, pulling it into his lap so he could lace his fingers through mine.

“I missed you.”

“It’s a shame we have to spend my first night back surrounded by other people.”

“Are you tired?”

“Exhausted,” I breathed as I pulled in front of the building where Darlene was staying and threw my flashers on while we waited for her to come out. She wasn’t long, and I reached behind my seat to fish in my overnight bag for the black heels I promised her.

Darlene had her hair pulled up in a ballerina bun and her makeup looked flawless. Her dress was black, fitted, and fairly short with long, lace sleeves. She was currently accessorizing it with a worn pair of high-top chucks.

“You look gorgeous—even with the chucks,” I said as I dangled my heels. “These are the ones you tried on the other night.”

“Perfect,” she mumbled as she unlaced her shoes.

“Feeling conservative, tonight?” Elliot smirked as he peeked around his seat.

“Shut your face, Sweater Vest,” she retorted without looking up.

“I’m not wearing a sweater-vest.”

“Whatever, Mr. Tanner. Isn’t this what rich people look like? Basic black and heels and shit?”

“Is that what I look like to you?” I asked mildly offended and majorly concerned that I looked like a caricature.

Neither Elliot nor Darlene said anything for so long I actually guffawed.

Elliot laughed softly and pulled our still laced together hands to his mouth and pressed a quick kiss to the top of my wrist.  

“You look good. You always look nice.”

“Mmm,” I said, unconvinced as I pulled my hand from his grasp to put the car in drive.

We chatted on our way out of the city, mostly about the party and about our childhood Thanksgivings. I found myself scaling back the details of my own in the event that it would seem obnoxiously normal; I didn’t want to feel like I was throwing my happy childhood in their faces. However, it did seem they had some normality with Angela and her parents, always ditching their own house in favor of hers, especially before her mom died.

When we crept up the drive, the party was already in full swing in the heated tents in the backyard, so I pulled into the garage so we could sneak in our bags. The house was full of caterers and servers, so we quickly dashed upstairs.

I flicked on the light to Charlie’s room, which was closest to mine, and Darlene threw her bag on his bed, her eyes taking in the bedroom.

“If you ever need a house sitter, I better be your first call.”

“My parents are actually downsizing their place in the city and moving out here. I can’t remember if I mentioned it, but tonight’s the night Dad announces his retirement.”

“Is that, like, a big deal?” Darlene asked.

“For several million reasons, it is.”

Darlene nodded and said she was going to use the bathroom, if she could find it, she muttered as she flicked on the light to Char’s closet.

“It’s on your other left,” I laughed as I went to my room.

Elliot was on the balcony which overlooked the party. With my heels on, I was just a bit taller than him so I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my chin on his shoulder.

“Are you going to be cool with all of this? It won’t be as stuffy as the last few parties I made you go to.”

“I’m surprised the tent is big enough to house all of that ego.”

I turned into his neck and inhaled the familiar scent of his aftershave.

“Because you, Mr. Hackerpants, have no ego at all,” I teased before pressing my lips to his neck.

“I don’t use my skills to rob the masses blind.”

I loosened my grip on his waist and stepped back.

“You don’t have to go. I just thought it would be nice if the family was there for Dad’s announcement.”

Even with my loosened grip, I felt Elliot’s body tense. I let him go and he turned to face me, leaning back against the railing.

“I’m family?”

I shrugged, unable to meet his eyes because I feared his rejection when I answered, “Yeah. We consider you a part of our clan now.”

Elliot sighed and stepped forward, his finger moving to lift my chin.

His polychromatic eyes were a swirl of blue and grey tonight, making them seem almost ethereal in the flickering lights from below and the back light from my room. I couldn’t quite read his expression, which seemed to be something I struggled with a lot lately. I wasn’t sure why, but Elliot wasn’t the open book he was when I first met him. Long ago I had theorized that he hadn’t learned to guard himself from me in the early stages of our relationship, like the night we first had sex. His vulnerability had once been laid bare to me, but it was almost always gone now and I sometimes wondered if I had projected, idealized the version of Elliot I wanted to see, the version that needed me.

Elliot tilted his head slightly up and kissed me, a soft sweet kiss.

“Okay,” he whispered against my lips before he pulled away.

Darlene’s clicking heels on the hardwood floor interrupted the moment and we turned to meet her, ready to head to the party.

Dad’s announcement went over well since he said he’d remain on the board for at least two more years. His replacement was a company favorite, a man not entirely unlike Miles with his perfect reputation and his ambition to climb, but I thought he was a good choice, a safe choice.  

I left toward the end of the party, my face tired from the banal talk and the even more banal smiles. When I went upstairs to my room after grabbing a spoon, a can of caviar from the fridge, and a sleeve of crackers, Darlene was laying across the end of the bed sorting a pile of business cards.

“Oh! You did some networking?” I said as I emptied my hands and reached to open the caviar. I prepped a cracker and walked over to Darlene before popping it in my mouth.

“Networking for that rich D,” she said with a smirk.

I swallowed, barely holding back a laugh, “Even better!”

I leaned over to take a look at her pile and frowned.

“Can I help?”

“Have at it,” she said as slid off the bed and headed to the caviar.

“Married. Married. Married.” I said as I tossed those cards to the side.

“This one broke Char’s heart last season, so he’s maybe bi? Maybe in denial?”

“Toss. I don’t want your brother’s sloppy seconds,” Darlene said.

“Fair enough,” I agreed as I continued. “He’s nice. Nice. Holy fuck—”

Darlene grinned like a cat as I held up the most coveted number in my social circle. Alexander Strömberg was gorgeous, perpetually single, a tech genius, and a self-made billionaire.

“He overhead me talking about cryptojacking, hypothetically, of course, and before I knew it, he was fetching me a drink and holding my elbow like I was my fair fucking lady. We talked. And we totally made out by the pool.”

I made an incomprehensible noise between a sigh and a slight moan. “He’s gorgeous. And smart as a whip.”

Darlene raised her brow, “He did say he knew you . . .”

“We’ve crossed paths over the years,” I said, looking toward Elliot who didn’t seem to be listening to a thing we were saying. “But neither of us ever made anything of it.”

Darlene finished another cracker before she gathered up her pile of business cards, throwing the ones I warned her about in the trash. She stretched and said she was going to find her way to the kitchen to find something more substantial than “fancy-ass” caviar. I gave her directions and she waved, not bothering to glance back as she headed downstairs.

I stretched out in her vacated spot and used my feet to kick off my heels. I glanced up, angling my head to look at Elliot as his fingers never paused in their trajectory over the keys of his laptop. He had dipped out not long after Dad’s announcement, and he hadn’t even glanced up when I came upstairs. His sweater had been discarded and his white button down was open, revealing his white undershirt.  

“I hate these things. But I’m glad everyone knows about Dad’s retirement. I was tired of keeping that secret.”

“Didn’t look like you hated it.”

“I can assure you, I did. Now everyone thinks I’m maneuvering for a position in Dad’s company. I felt like a broken record repeating that I have no interest in leaving the tech side of things.”

“My heart bleeds for you.”

I sat up on my elbows and stared at Elliot, disbelieving of his cold tone.

“What?”

Elliot huffed and looked up from his laptop, and there was an edginess in him I hadn’t seen since Sarah had texted him about the server room. Anger seemed to be surging under his skin, humming.

Elliot’s eyes locked on mine, unwavering in their brutality before they flicked to the ceiling as he leaned his head back and stated, “Why the fuck should I sit here and listen to a rich little girl complain about doing rich people things? Do you understand everyone in that room tonight could cut their salaries in half and still have more money than they could spend in a lifetime? That everyone here, at this house, your house, could effectively end the desperate paycheck-to-paycheck struggles of every person who works for them? I don’t give a fuck if you’re tired from smiling at shitty jokes and drinking expensive champagne and eating fucking caviar.”

“What the fuck, Elliot?” I said as I slid off the bed and stood, the blood rushing to my ears, roaring with the humiliation that was coloring my cheeks red.

He rolled his eyes and shut his laptop, tossing it on the bed beside him as he stood to unbutton the cuffs of his dress shirt. I took a step back, and he didn’t even glance up as he popped the buttons and shrugged out of the sleeves.

“Elliot? Seriously! What the hell was that?”

He brushed past me and walked over to his backpack and dug out a pack of cigarettes. Without looking at me again, he went on to the balcony and lit up.

As I stood dumbfounded and staring at his silhouette, Darlene walked in, saying she forgot her phone as she walked over to my nightstand. When she processed the look on my face and read the tension in the room, she asked, “What’s up?” as her eyes looked between me and her brother on the balcony.

“Nothing,” I mumbled as I looked away and moved toward my desk.

“Tell me. Please,” she added as she stepped in front of me.

“It’s nothing,” I said as I stepped around her and gathered up the caviar and crackers and tossed them into the trash, disgust churning in my gut.

“Elliot’s clearly pulled a dumbass move. If we can’t talk to each other, who can we talk to?” she pleaded, her eyes, so like his, boring into the back of my head.

I pressed my lips together and inhaled, steadying my nerves as I turned to her and explained, “He’s not . . . himself. I haven’t seen him like this for months—I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him this . . . mean,” I finished as I blinked quickly, holding back tears because Elliot certainly didn’t deserve them.

Darlene frowned and for once she didn’t bite out a sarcastic remark. She seemed far away in her thoughts when she finally said, “Think I’ll have a smoke, too. You mind grabbing me a water? Sorta forgot to get one when I was talking to your parents.”

I took the hint and was relieved to get out of the room. My legs felt shaky as I made my way down the hallway, and when I descended the steps, my hand clung tightly to the rail as I continued to fight the urge to cry as Elliot’s dark words pierced through my mind, seemingly stuck in a belligerent loop.

I took a deep breath and steeled my features before I went into the kitchen and made light, normal conversation with my mom and dad.

Even after my parents said goodnight, I sat in the kitchen, replaying what Elliot said. It wasn’t the first time he had expressed himself about socioeconomic division, but it was certainly the first time I understood that he did not separate me from my parents’ wealthy status. I thought Elliot saw me just for me, but tonight proved I was wrong.

Darlene walked quietly into the kitchen and I looked up, not bothering to hide my hurt.

“Is Elliot asleep?”

“Nah. He’s waiting to see you.”

“I don’t want to see him.”

“I don’t blame you, Y/N,” she said, her expression soft as she approached me. “But please don’t give up on him now. Just . . . hear him out.”

I frowned and thought about all the times I swore to myself that I’d be someone Elliot trusted, someone he could count on, someone who wouldn’t leave him.

I nodded and gave her shoulder a squeeze before I grabbed two waters from the fridge. The walk to my room was long as dread settled heavily in my stomach.

Elliot was sitting on the bed facing the doorway as his feet dangled off the floor thanks to the high bedframe. The first thing I noticed was that the change in his demeanor was so stark it nearly made me take a step back. Gone was the edginess, the closed off body language, the skittish glances. In front of me was the Elliot I could read like a book, and when he didn’t raise his head to meet my eyes, I knew he was in the same state of misery as I was.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” his voice quiet, a deep sadness wrapping up every word.

“You hurt me.”

Elliot looked up, a flicker of relief on his face that I was being direct with him. He had trouble with ambiguity, especially when it came to feelings.

“I don’t want you to bury your feelings, ever. This life—my life—I know it fucks with your moral compass, the idea that anyone rich can’t be good. But fuck, Elliot. You really came at me, at my family, who, in case you forgot, consider you family, too.”

I was starting to feel angry.

“I know. And I am sorry.”

“I know.”

Elliot scooted forward and stood, taking a few tentative steps toward me.

“Do you have any idea what kind of people were at that party?”

“Good people. Bad people. In-between people. Money doesn’t change that.”

“Philip Price from E Corp was here.”

“Yeah? I’ve known him since I was little. E Corp financed Dad’s manufacturing plant in Colorado—the one that employs over 600 people, in case that mattered,” I sniped.

Elliot said nothing but came closer, watching my face and imploring me to remember—and then it hit me as effectively as a slap across the face.

“Your dad worked for E Corp before he got sick.”

“As a software engineer.”

Despite my anger, I softened, knowing what Elliot’s dad meant to him and to Darlene, as much as she remembered of him.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“He’s not the only one who got cancer. Angela’s mom, too. And there were over 20 others. All of them working out of E Corp’s Washington Township facility.”

I took some time to think about what I wanted to say next, my anger at Elliot continuing to recede.

“Are you saying E Corp was at fault?”

“Yes.”

“Have you . . . looked into it?” I asked, avoiding directly knowing whether he hacked the shit out of the biggest conglomerate on Wall Street.

“Yes.”

“And?”

“Nothing. There’s no conclusive evidence E Corp was involved.”

I shifted my weight as I thought about whether I wanted to offer my help, the last seeds of my anger dissipating as I looked at Elliot’s sad face.  

“Do you—I don’t know how far I could get, but do you want me to look into it?”

“I’ve already—"

“Sure, digitally, you’ve . . . researched it. But sometimes the paper trail can . . . disappear.”

Elliot looked at me for a long time and I would’ve given anything to know what he was thinking as he formulated what he wanted to say, or rather, what he was willing to say.

“I would appreciate that.”

“Oh, Elliot,” I said as I closed the tentative distance between us and wrapped him up in a hug which he returned with equal fervor.

“I feel like I have no control sometimes,” Elliot whispered into my hair. “Everything is out of my control.”

I laughed lightly into his shoulder.

“Control is an illusion, El. No one ever really has it.”**

Elliot’s grip tightened on me, and I fell into his embrace, letting myself believe his apology and naively, so naively believe this was the last of the anger and the apologies.

* Christmas Eve *

My apartment was so hot I debated turning on the air conditioning until Elliot suggested opening the balcony door.

I flung the door open as Elliot came up behind me, pushing me onto the balcony, almost tackling me into the railing.

I laughed and he turned me around his arms, his face split into a grin as he leaned in to sloppily kiss me.

He was drunk, I was drunk, and so was everyone else still at my Christmas Eve party.

Angela and Ollie had stopped by earlier, but they had made a pretty short evening of it. I hadn’t yet clicked with Angela, mostly because she focused all of her attention on Elliot as soon as she saw him. I told him he should hang out with her more often, but a part of me was relieved when he said he really didn’t want to. I didn’t push for an explanation.

Franco and his wife, Gianna, Jill and Jack, along with Darlene and a few more friends were all in attendance. Darlene’s sometimes more-than-friend, a good-looking stockbroker, stopped by around the same time as Angela and Ollie.

Erin, Ryan, and Charlie came, and since Kathleen was on-call, Josh brought Jared and Jack, who both competed with Elliot for the attention of Jack and Jill’s dog, Robert Goulet.

My parents stopped by for a little while, insisting they weren’t going to crash the good times of “the youth” for long.

I expected Elliot to stick to either me or Darlene, but he didn’t. Instead, he spent a long time talking to Franco about his business. Elliot had said once that he would like to do that someday; start up his own cybersecurity business, land a few big clients to pay the bills, but then operate pro-bono for as many small businesses as he could.

I offered him the start-up money and he promptly looked like I had just slaughtered a bag full of puppies, so that was the end of that conversation.

Things had been normal—we had a happy thanksgiving with my family, then Elliot invited me to go with him and Darlene to visit their mother. Darlene went as far as the lobby, but I went to Mrs. Alderson’s room with Elliot. She had suffered a debilitating stroke, most likely caused by smoking, and was mostly catatonic, her eyes only occasionally flicking to Elliot as he sat with her.

Elliot and I never really talked about what happened in my room after the social, so I considered Elliot letting me in to his life by taking me to meet his mother as a way of sincerely apologizing.

But by visiting his mother, Elliot opened a door I was dying to peek into. I tried to open the door and ask more about his relationship with her, but he slammed it shut. For the past few days, I had been warring with myself with whether or not to suggest he go to therapy, and I decided my best bet was to ask Darlene what she thought he’d say if I suggested it.

It was almost 2 am when I finally kissed Jill, Jack, and Robert Goulet goodnight, but I wasn’t the last person to kiss Mr. Goulet. Elliot carried him to the elevator and I had never seen him look so adoringly at anything, but the way he looked at Robert Goulet as he handed him over to Jill was heartbreaking.

Robert Goulet didn’t help matters either by looking back, upside-down at Elliot and giving him a sad, big-eyed glance. Elliot leaned forward and smooched Robert Goulet between the eyes and Jill yelled at me to take Elliot to the shelter to pick out a puppy.

I shook my head and sighed as Elliot waved goodbye as the elevator doors shut. Jill and Jack gave a wave but I knew sure as shit that Elliot was waving at their dog.

“You can see Robert Goulet anytime you want,” I said as Elliot turned around looking sad.

“I love him.”

“I can see that.”

“He’s such a good boy.”

“He is. I take it you and Darlene never had pets?”

Elliot’s expression darkened and he shook his head no.

“Are there any Jell-O shots left?”

“If you didn’t eat them all,” I said with a laugh as Elliot headed back inside to raid the fridge.

Just as I shut the door, I saw that Darlene was shrugging into her coat. She was the last to leave, but I begged her not to.

“Don’t go. I can’t stand the thought of you not being with people who love you on Christmas morning.”

I didn’t miss the way her eyes lingered on mine, an unspoken question of whether I meant what I said.

“Stay,” I pressed.

“If you’re gonna be so up my ass about it,” Darlene said with the least unaggressive huff I’d ever heard, so I smiled and walked over to her give her a big hug and a loud kiss on the temple.

“Eat chips with me,” I said, grinning.

She giggled, clearly still drunk, but not quite as drunk as her brother.

“That dog is really fucking cute,” Darlene said as she gathered up the pita chips and the layered hummus dip.

“His name,” specified Elliot as he hollowed out his cheeks and sucked down the last Jell-O shot, “is Robert Goulet.”

Darlene laughed at the offense dripping in Elliot’s voice.

I giggled at the two of them as I slid my chip through the dip and ended up miscalculating the dip to chip ratio, half of it landing with a splat on the floor.

“Fuck,” I said, contemplating whether I should still eat it.

“I got you,” Elliot said as he stumbled over with a wad of napkins, some of them trailing behind him as he miscalculated his hand to napkin ratio.

He cleaned up the dip and I thanked him when he came back and plopped on the sofa. His eyes immediately slid shut and he had a dreamy smile on his face as he leaned back into the cushion.

“He’s dreaming about that dog,” I loudly whispered to Darlene.

“I know,” she loudly whispered in return.

As Darlene and I chattered and ate entirely too many pita chips, she eventually looked around me to give her brother a wary eye.

“El—you alive over there?”

I turned to look as he jumped a bit at being addressed and vaguely hummed in response.

“Go to bed, dork,” Darlene barked as Elliot opened his bloodshot eyes.

He shuffled to the edge of the couch and looked around like he had forgotten where he was.

“Those Jell-O shots are lethal,” I said with a grin. “And you had a whole fucking tray’s worth when you weren’t laying on the floor with Robert Goulet.”

“Robert Goulet,” Elliot sighed with a half-smile as he shook his head and stood, stumbling just a little.

“Fuck,” he muttered, as he wobbled. “Night.”

We watched Elliot walk in a semi-zigzag down the hall. There was a questionable thump that caused us to giggle loud enough before Elliot swung the bedroom door shut.

“Guess he’s alright,” I said at the end of my laugh.

“He’s fine,” Darlene said with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m glad you’re staying,” I said as I moved into Elliot’s spot, stretching my legs out.

“Thanks for asking me to,” Darlene said with a soft smile that looked just like her brother’s.

“Water?” I asked, reluctantly swinging my feet off the couch.

“I think it’s about that time,” she said, laying her head back on the couch, again, much like her brother.

I glanced up at the TV as I walked back into the living room and handed Darlene a bottle of water. The TV was still softly playing Christmas songs as a fire burned on the screen.

The fake fireplace made me realize it was awfully chilly, and I walked over to shut and lock the balcony door.

When I sat down, I looked at Darlene who had turned her head to watch my movements.

“Spill. You look like Elliot—I can see the indecisive hesitation just about making your head ready to pop off.”

“I don’t know if I’m not drunk enough or if I’m too drunk to ask.”

“That serious? Gotta be about my bonehead of a brother. I swear to god if you’re thinking about breaking up with him, I’ll kick his ass.”

“Kick his ass?” I laughed.

“Yes—because somehow I know he’ll end up fucking this up. Not to, like, shit on your relationship because I hope to fuck he doesn’t fuck it up, but I’m just saying—”

“I know what you mean. You’re a good sister. And a great friend.”

“Don’t get sentimental on me now, Y/N. Spill.”

I took a long drink of my water and put the lid back on, stretching to set the bottle on the coffee table before I settled back into the sofa.

I took a deep breath and asked what I had wanted to ask Darlene since she and I really became friends.

“Did your brother ever tell you about the incident in the Server Room?”

“You mean how you saved his ass from getting fired?”

“About what he did after he got locked in.”

Darlene took a deep breath, her hands in her lap as her chip lay idle in her fingertips.

“He told me that those guys, like, played a prank or something—locked him in with the servers because he kept hacking through their security protocols. He said he lost it and the next thing he knew, you were there. Like a fucking knight in shining armor,” she said, her voice just hinting at being teasing.

I scoffed.

“He didn’t say that,” Darlene said with an eyeroll, “but that’s what he meant. He thinks you hung the moon, Y/N. I’ve never seen him like this.”

“Happy?”

“Not since we were kids. And even then it was less . . . consistent.”

“He didn’t say anything else about that night?”

“No,” Darlene answered, her eyes boring into mine just like Elliot’s.

“I need you to be absolutely positive he didn’t say anything else—are you totally sure?”

“Yes. I am positive that’s all he said. Why?”

After a pause, my explanation came out in a bit of a rush.

“Elliot has no memory of smashing up the towers. When I found him, he was blacked out. I thought it was the head gash, but Jill assured me it wasn’t. She—she rattled off a few things that could cause a person to black out like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Anxiety attack, a reaction to traumatic stress, dissociative or dissociative identity disorder, or,” I paused, “schizophrenia.”

Darlene was quiet.

“The first time I remember it happening was when I was like six, maybe seven. My grandmother came to visit, Dad’s mom, and she was showing us all these pictures from when Dad was little. I remember thinking about how much Elliot looked like him as a kid and being a little jealous because I didn’t. Anyway, my grandmother started to cry and she told Elliot how much Dad loved him, how special he was to him, and Elliot just froze before he started screaming. He told her to shut up and a bunch of shit I can’t really remember, but Mom got so pissed. She dragged Elliot upstairs and locked him in his room.”

It felt like I had swallowed lead as I listened to Darlene, the knot of leaden nerves growing heavier as she continued.

“Once Mom was in bed, I stole her key and took Elliot dinner. He was just laying in his bed, facing the wall like he hadn’t moved all day. I remember—”

Darlene faltered for the first time in her story.

“I remember,” she said finding her voice again, “the look on Elliot’s face when he rolled over. He asked, ‘Did Mom lock me in?’”

“I told him, yeah, she did, and he asked why she hated him so much.”

“I said that maybe it was because he yelled at our grandmother, and I’ll never forget the way he looked at me because I’ve seen it enough times now. He looked at me like he had no idea what I was talking about—like I had just told him some horrible truth he had no knowledge of.”

“So, he’s blacked out since he was little?”

“I’m not sure how young, but that’s the first time I remember it happening.”  

“And has—has he ever been to therapy?”

“Definitely in high school. I remember mom being livid when she found out he met with the school’s psychologist once a week.

I don’t know what it was about Elliot that always set her off. It was like he couldn’t ever do anything right. I mean, she was a fucking bitch to me, too, but all of her anger was concentrated on him. It was like he was her trigger.”

“Did she,” I stopped and paused. “This is hard to ask outright. Did she . . . hurt either of you?”

“When I was, like, 8, I found this kitten. Gray and black with four perfectly white paws. She was so little, so I snuck her into my room, even named her. Moonpie,” Darlene said with a wistful smile. “Anyway, I built a little space for her in the backyard and that’s when Mom found out. She threw us in the car, went in and got Elliot, then drove to a lake. She said—she said I had to drown the cat so I would remember that actions have consequences, and disobeying her meant a consequence. I fucking took the cat and ran for it and found her a home far away from that monster.**

I’ve got a million stories like that,” Darlene finished, finally flicking her eyes to mine. “She was a stone-cold bitch.”

I was quiet while I processed Darlene’s story, thinking it alone confirmed why she stayed in the lobby when we visited her mom.

“I don’t want to push Elliot, but there’s something he’s not telling me. Maybe not telling any of us.”

“If you push him, you could lose him. That’s all I’m going to say. How important is it for him to tell you—or us—or anyone?”

“That night at my parents’ house,” I began. “That wasn’t the first time Elliot lost his temper with me.”

Darlene huffed, “That wasn’t—fuck. I don’t know how to explain it, but that wasn’t the same. Trust me. When he really loses it, you’ll know.”

“And he never remembers?”

“No.”

“Do you think it’s an act? A way to release aggression without suffering the consequence?”

“Y/N—this is the most normal I’ve ever seen my brother. Before you, there was nothing. No one. He stayed in and jacked around on his computer. What would be the point of putting on an act for years? It’s not like he was protecting some perfect life.”

“I don’t know. Had to ask,” I said with a shrug. 

“I’m just saying that he’s happy now. He’s in a good place—you are a good place.”

“I do feel like he is happy now, but I can’t stop thinking about what happens when he’s not. What if he gets depressed again? What if something does happen between us that isn’t fixable? Then he blames himself and it all goes to shit—again. How many times is he going to go through that cycle before he moves forward and stays in a forward momentum?”

I . . . want to ask him to talk to someone, a therapist, or whatever. Just . . . someone. How do you think he’ll react? Or should I just forget it?”

Darlene sighed as she thought, and I could see her nibbling her bottom lip.

“He trusts you. If anyone can suggest it, it’s you.”

“But should I?”

“I don’t know, Y/N. I mean, yeah. He’s got a fuckton of baggage, but I hate to stir shit up when he’s happy.”

“We shouldn’t have to walk on eggshells. No one’s happiness should be that fragile . . . that temporary.”

Darlene shrugged.

“Just maybe give me a warning before the shit hits the fan so I can get the fuck outta here.”

I laughed softly.

“You always assume the worst—and I get it. Well, I mean I think I understand it. I didn’t live through what you’ve lived through. And hey—this isn’t just about Elliot. If you ever need anything or anyone to unleash on, I’m here.”

Darlene looked at me and nodded her head, almost imperceptibly.

“I’ve made my peace with my shit childhood. But sometimes—"

I waited expectantly.

“Sometimes I wonder how much of it really fucked me up. I don’t—I don’t trust anyone. Like, ever.”

“Are you sure you don’t want a job?”

“What?”

“Considering what you do, I’m not surprised you feel like you have to look over your shoulder all the time. Even if you wanted to just set up a legit business for yourself, I could help you do that. Maybe you wouldn’t feel like everything was about to crash in on you at any moment. You could be totally independent.”

Darlene looked at me like I was crazy.

“You legit see the good in everything, don’t you?”

“I see the bad, but I choose to ignore as much of it as I can. I used to . . . not. That was one of the best things I learned from my therapist. She helped me climb over that wall of impending doom. Granted, it’s still there at times, but she taught me how to confront those feelings so they don’t paralyze me. I know my demons are nothing compared to yours or Elliot’s, and I know I have it easy because I can always rely on my parents to help me. But that kind of thinking leads to its own sort of darkness.”

I just want Elliot to be happy, really happy. And you, too.”

“Thanks. I don’t know if you realize what it’s like to just have someone care. That’s why I love Elliot so much—he’s always cared about me. I’ve never doubted that.”

“You shouldn’t. He loves you.”

“I haven’t always been the best sister.”

“None of us are—we have the longest relationships of our lives with our siblings. We are bound to fuck it up with them on occasion.”

Darlene laughed before growing serious again.

“Just promise me this?”

I nodded.

“If he bails on you, tries to push you away, don’t let him because it’s not really . . . it’s not really him.”

“Okay,” I promised.

“Think Elliot’ll be mad if we open a present early?”

“Oh, no way! Absolutely not! In fact, off to bed with you. Santa has to stuff the stockings.”

Darlene gave me a look of suppressed confusion and happiness, her mouth turning up in a sort of quirky smirk.

“Are you for real with this happy Christmas shit?”

“Yes—go to bed.”

Darlene shakes her head and slides off the sofa. She offers to help me clean up, but I tell her to get some sleep.

“Merry fucking Christmas,” Darlene says as hugs me.

“Santa is going to leave you coal,” I said as I gave her a final squeeze and she told me to shove it.

* New Year’s *

“I’m glad it’s just the two of us tonight. I feel like it’s been a whirlwind of parties and people.”

I brought Elliot his drink, enjoying the soft glow of the Christmas lights that sparkled on the tree Elliot helped me choose and trim. My apartment was over-decorated with lights and garland and the woodsy smell of pine was still strong because Elliot had gotten caught up in the holiday spirit, only pulling back when I told him it was all fun and games until it was time to take it all down.

Elliot’s bright, grey eyes were trained on my face as he said, “Because it has been. I’ve never socialized this much in my life and I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore.”

“Excellent! I hope I’ve ruined you for any other person,” I said with a confident grin.

“That’s a guarantee. I’ve never been—” Elliot slammed his mouth shut and it would’ve been comical except for the look of horror on his face.

“Don’t do that.”

He shook his head.

“You can’t wait for the hammer to fall all the time. It’s a horrible way to live. You’ve never been what—say it.”

It’s clear Elliot is at war with himself in a Hamletian parody: to tell me, or not to tell me.

I huffed and leaned in to kiss him.

“You’ve never been . . .” I trailed off, a smile on my face as I placed kisses, playful and feathery, all over his face until I started teasing him with little licks under his jaw and down his neck.

“Come on, El. You’ve never been . . .”

I worked my fingers under his shirt and ghosted them along his stomach, feeling the muscles twitch as he fought not to giggle.

“Hap—hap—happier!” Elliot laughs out, unable to take my torture any longer. “I’ve never been happier.”

I grinned at him, his outburst before Thanksgiving feeling like it was a thousand miles in the past, nearly buried after the happy holiday season.

“This reminds me of Memorial Day weekend,” I said, looking over Elliot’s head as I reminisced.

“Oh yeah?”

“Do you remember? After that big meal we made together? We talked and smoked—and cuddled.”

“You told me you wanted to stop time,” Elliot said, looking at me with the slightest smile.

“Because you had me all fucked up.”

“All fucked up.”

“Don’t move—we’ve got one more Christmas present to open,” I said as I hopped up and went to dig around in the opened gifts still under the tree. I hated to put Christmas away until I absolutely had to.

“Here it is,” I mumbled as I pulled the plain black box out of the Kate Spade tote Erin had gifted me.  

The commotion on the television drew my attention as I realized we had about a minute until the ball dropped. I placed the black box on the coffee table and looked at Elliot.

“It’s almost midnight,” I said with a smile.

“Yeah? You wanna kiss me or something?”

“I do,” I said with a smile. “This is an important kiss, after all.”

“Oh?”

“A kiss at midnight means we’ll be together for the next year.”

“So you believe in superstitions now?”

“Listen,” I whispered, pulling Elliot onto his feet.

Elliot looked toward the TV as the ball began to drop. When he turned his eyes to mine, I was lost, lost as I realized they were nothing more than a reflection of my own deep happiness.

“3, 2, 1—”

Elliot’s lips crashed onto mine and he kissed me until I was light-headed, straining for gasping little breaths, unwilling to break this moment.

“Happy New Year,” Elliot breathed as he rested his forward against mine.

“Happy New Year,” I echoed.

“I never thought,” Elliot said with a surprising burst of laughter, “I never thought I’d be sharing a New Year’s kiss with . . . anyone,” he finished as he tugged me along with him back onto the couch, both of us plopping down in a bit of a tangle.

I looked at Elliot’s perfect three-point grin and felt my heart skip a beat.

“I think I’ve gained weight,” Elliot chuckled, shifting on the couch as his jeans strained against his normally damn near concave stomach.

“Guess you’re just going to have to forego pants until you lose those stubborn holiday pounds?”

“Oh?” Elliot said, but this time his voice was husky, a seductive purr as he reached for the button on his jeans, sliding it open and opening his pants.

I laughed, “Is this a glimpse into our future? Late nights on the sofa in front of the TV, your pants popped open because you ate too much?”

“Would that be a terrible fate for you?”

“No,” I said, smiling as I leaned in to kiss him lightly.

“What’s in the box?” Elliot asked as he peeked over my shoulder.

“Oh—shit!”

I pulled back and reached around to the coffee table, grabbing the box.

“A little present from Erin—would you like to do the honors?”

Elliot smirked and reached for the box, quickly pulling the lid off. He chuckled as he looked at the perfectly packed, pretty fat joints.

“More than a little present, I’d say,” he stated.

“This is a perfect opportunity to recreate our Memorial Day weekend. Thanks, sis,” I grinned as I got up to find a lighter.

Elliot and I each worked our way through a joint. It was good weed, and my state of consciousness quickly gave way to that fog, that sleepy-happy state of relaxation that only came with a good smoke.

Elliot’s face seemed to be permanently etched in a perfect three-point grin as his head rested on the back of the sofa, his eyes closed.

“What’s got you grinning?” I asked, feeling every word on my tongue as I continued to watch his face, the Christmas lights in my peripheral all blurring together so prettily.

“Guess what?”

“What?”

“We’re more than friends now,” Elliot said as he opened his eyes, lazy and half-lidded, his grin still planted on his face.

I chuckled as I slid onto Elliot’s lap and pushed his chin up so his eyes were locked on mine. I traced my fingers over his brow, his nose, his cheeks, his jaw, his lips, and I pulled back and reached for his hands.

I kissed across the knuckles of each of his hands, looking for any mark, any tiny scar from the incident in the server room, but I found none—it was like it had never happened, except that here he was, underneath me and looking at me with eyes that didn’t bother to hide the love he felt, and it was all because of that terrible night.

If good didn’t exist without condition, then maybe bad didn’t either?

“If it never happened, we wouldn’t be here now, would we?” Elliot asked, reading my thoughts.

I shook my head slowly as I let his hands fall to resting on the top of my thighs, near my hips.

“This face, El,” I breathed as I scooted closer to his body, “If I could draw, I would replicate it in all its perfection. And in your eyes, I would write the thousands of truths you carry inside so I could read them, know them, and in turn, know you.”

I was high—but I wasn’t so sure it was the effect of the weed anymore that made me feel so lightheaded.

Elliot’s eyes filled with a desperate sort of desire, and I wasn’t entirely unconvinced it was because he wanted me to stop talking, wanted me to stop looking at him so deeply.

“You do know me. And you love me anyway.”

“I love you because I know you.”

I kissed him gently, then with a sense of urgency, and again, it could have been attributed to the high, but I was suddenly filled with a sense of paranoia, a thought that nothing would ever be this good again, that nothing would ever be like this night again.  

Elliot’s tongue twined with mine as his fingers gripped my hips. I broke the kiss and pushed his head back so I could have access to his jaw and his neck. I licked along the sharp line of his jawbone before I placed sweet kisses down his neck. As I worked my way back up, I deepened those chaste kisses, sucking lightly in spots until Elliot’s fingers were threatening to snap with his tight grip.

“Touch me,” I whispered in his ear before I pulled the lobe into my mouth and sucked.

His hands moved, sliding under my shirt and going straight to unhook my bra. His nimble fingers managed it quickly and he switched his angle so that he was now massaging my breasts as they dropped free from my loosened bra. Elliot’s fingers were simultaneously working my nipples and I felt a rush of arousal between my thighs.

I was working the other side of his neck now, still pulling breathy moans from his throat, as Elliot began to tug at my shirt, trying to get me out of it and my bra. I sat back just enough to help, tossing the pile of fabric over the back of the couch. Since I was already leaning back, I reached for the hem of Elliot’s sweater and pulled it over his head. He had forgone a t-shirt underneath tonight and I was delighted to be able to dip my head and lick along the top of his chest, placing wet kisses across his skin and then onto the smattering of freckles that dotted his shoulders.

I pressed my body into his in a tight hug, my eyes rolling back a bit at the sensation of warm skin on warm skin.

Elliot moved forward, wriggling to the end of the couch and he stood up, after a moment’s struggle to get his hands under my thighs. I hooked my ankles together and he carried me to the bedroom, laying me on the bed and sliding into place between my legs.

I was still lost in the warm feel of our torsos, pressed together as Elliot’s hands pushed my arms up over my head so he could touch as much of me as he could reach, fingertips to waist, he ghosted along my skin until it broke into gooseflesh and I shuddered.

He was watching me with those big eyes, memorizing my face in yet another moment of passion before he pushed himself up so he could kiss across my chest.

Elliot’s lips quickly found one of my nipples, and I felt another flood of arousal as I watched his full lips pucker around it as he sucked. I ran my fingers up the back of his head and tangled them in his hair, enjoying the soft thickness.

Elliot let go with a slight pop and blew a cool stream of air over the wet patch, causing both nipples to grow impossibly hard and even more sensitive. Elliot smirked as he kissed his way to my other breast and repeated his sweet torture.

By the time he was kissing his way down my stomach, I was done, squirming with desire, the muscles of my abdomen twitching under his tongue.

“Stop,” I breathed. “Stop, stop.”

Elliot froze and looked up with wide-eyes, and I pushed out from under him.

I stood and shimmied out of my jeans and panties.

“Lay down,” I instructed, and Elliot’s face relaxed as he realized I just wanted to switch positions.

Elliot’s jeans were already falling off his hips, so with a good tug, I pulled them off and made quick work of his socks and his underwear. I took a few seconds to let my eyes rake over his naked body, his muscles taught, his cock hard, his eyes soft.

I smiled and kept my eyes on his as I straddled his hips. Elliot reached down to grasp himself, and he ran the tip of his cock through my wetness. I stayed poised above him, and I reached up to grasp his jaw, my thumb caressing the spot between his lower lip and his chin. When our eyes were locked, I lowered myself onto him and we groaned together, both overwhelmed at both the sensation and the feeling.  

I moved slowly, watching his mouth form a tight line as he struggled against releasing his pleasure.

“Let go, El.”

Elliot’s eyes swept over my face before he exhaled, his mouth falling open. He ran his hands up my thighs and swept around to grasp my hips. I loved the feeling of his strong hands on me and I sped up my movements, his cock hitting just the right spot.

I wanted him so much and my high had worn off to a quiet buzz, I knew my orgasm wouldn’t take long to achieve, but I wanted to come with him tonight—I felt a desperate need to be in sync with him, to be as close to him as I could be.

We were both covered in a light sheen of sweat, our bodies hot, flushed.

“Close,” I breathed.

“Y/N,” Elliot said in a moan. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.”

Elliot’s deep, raspy voice saying my name, again and again, drove me toward the edge, and I sped up my movements, my hands clutching at his chest as I began to bounce in earnest.

“Fuck,” Elliot hissed. “I’m coming.”

And my walls clenched at his warning, squeezing around him while he emptied himself inside of me, his heat spreading over my inner walls, making me feel so connected to him as we both worked through our climaxes. Tonight, like our first night together, wasn’t about fucking; it was about feeling, about us showing one another everything we didn’t want to taint with words.

We stayed connected, arms and legs tangled, but we said nothing—nothing needed to be said, and soon Elliot’s head was settled on my chest in a haunting, much more intimate mirror of the first, chaste night we had ever spent together.

Surrounded by everything that was Elliot, I knew I wanted to forget about the incident at my parents’ house, so I did, pushing it away until I thought it was gone.

I felt Elliot relax, falling asleep in my arms, but as this Elliot, my Elliot fell asleep, another part of him was waking up, that angry part of him I wanted so desperately to forget wasn’t going to stay asleep for much longer, and it would be all my fault.

[meshkol-creations]

Day 23 of Kinktober 2019: Corset

Tags: corset, slight D/s dynamics

Pairing: Kurtbastian

Notes: Day 23. Er. Oops. I just...really had no inspiration (or time) to get to this unfinished fest, and this small fic was kind of half-finished but the muse was gone so it just sat on my hard-drive for ages. Finally half-heartedly finished it, so I'm not super happy with it, but eh. I'd like to finish this fest at some point, preferably before I move in the next few weeks. Anyway, enjoy this unbeta'd thing.

*

“Okay, so that’s hot.”

Kurt throws Sebastian a look that practically drips with exasperated annoyance, but who can really blame Sebastian really? Kurt Hummel in general is a wet dream itself, but Kurt Hummel in a corset? Yeah, who the fuck can blame him? And it’s pretty too: a silky blue that is fucking gorgeous against his pale skin, black ribbons laced along his lean but muscular back, the waist trimmed with silk lace.

“No, it’s, like, seriously hot,” Sebastian says, and the earnestness he was aiming for is replaced by total awe. “Seriously, majorly hot. When the fuck did you get so hot?”

“I’ve always been this hot,” Kurt says with a truly spectacular eye roll, eyes green from purple and black eye makeup and so fucking pretty that Sebastian kind of wants to die. “It’s not my fault that you were an idiot in high school and didn’t realise this fact.”

He intends to say something along the lines of ‘I’ve always thought you were hot’, which is both accurate and something Sebastian has reiterated constantly since they’ve been doing the whole dating thing as a form of apologetic and genuine reinforcement, but instead what comes out is: “You are so hot.”

Kurt rolls his eyes again. “You’ve seen me in more flattering and revealing outfits, Sebastian, and you’ve also seen me naked. A lot. As in every day for the past year. I have it on good authority that you vastly prefer me without clothes, so why is this breaking your brain?”

Sebastian decisively does not have a good response for that, so instead he gives up on putting on the rest of his Hallowe’en costume so he can drop to his knees, yanking Kurt towards him by his hips and mouthing at the sheer knickers he’s wearing. Seems like an absolute shame that he’s going to be covering these black scraps of lace up with literally anything else; if it was up to Sebastian, Kurt would wear this corset, these knickers, some black stockings with lacy garters, and six-inch heeled boots that will do wonders for his arse and legs. Not that Kurt really needs the help in that area – Sebastian’s slept with an obscene amount of people in his dedicated career in fucking, but no one holds a candle to Kurt Hummel’s arse.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Sebastian mumbles, getting the fabric wet and delighting at the soft moan of surprised arousal Kurt lets out as his prick starts to fatten up against Sebastian’s lips. He’s half-tempted to just yank them down and slip that lovely, delicious prick into his mouth and suck him into full hardness, but he supposes that they do have to leave so they’re not even more late to Jesse St James’s party than they already are.

Which Kurt mentions, albeit breathlessly: “We are already two hours late.”

Sebastian whines in the back of his throat, still mouthing at the stiffening prick through the sheer fabric, and he feels Kurt’s fingers wind into his short hair, just enough grip to physically pull his head away. Sebastian whines again, mouth watering with want, but he still goes pliant in Kurt’s grip, not bothering to conceal his frown of disappointment.

“If you’re good tonight, I’ll fuck you while I’m wearing this corset,” Kurt offers, voice rough and enticing, then continues, “but if you’re bad, I’ll tie you up and get myself off without touching you. Understand?”

Sebastian swallows thickly, nearly blind with arousal, and manages to husk out, “Yes.”

Kurt grins at him, a mischievous and devilish flash of teeth, and then says, “Up you get, pet. We’ve got a party to get to.”

Sebastian groans, but follows Kurt’s order in a daze, already looking forward to his reward.

---

also read on ao3

[estelanel]

Mighty Nein ep. 18

Man, Yasha’s visible anxiousness at the prospect of having a conversation with strangers is melting my heart. How is this group so good at throwing super adorable barbarians at my face?

Beau not letting Caleb bail out of their conversation is Marisha taking revenge on Liam for “... and I walk away.” :D

“... ‘cause there’s people out there who steal the mail.” *glares at Beau*

If you watch Nott a little more intently and pay attention to her interactions, you can really see that she does take the role of a tiny mum tbh. She’s now officially parenting Caleb AND Jester, and she’s giving Mum Stares (tm) to Molly and Beau.

I love how Jester is 100% a spoiled rich kid, but 0% stingy about it. She was super disappointed that her mum didn’t send her as much money as expected, but she was immediately ready to divvy it up. When she was talking about getting sent money, she never talked about what she would be able to afford, but what the group could do with it. And when she eventually got it and everybody told her to keep it, she instead made it into an emergency reserve for the party. She likes to have nice things, but she’s also really eager to share them, because she wants everybody else to have nice things as well, and that’s so pure and sweet.

I really fucking hope there’s gonna be fanart next episode of Molly getting a full body massage while being fed grapes.

Currently yelling over Yasha and Nott exchanging recipes for cooking (or not) rats.

Liam: *drops the bomb about Caleb’s backstory* Marisha: *surprised Pikachu face* Marisha, 0.5 seconds later: *moves hand with pencil over her notebook intently*

Oh, Caleb. Ohh baby.

“What you did was awful. Truly terrible. Despicable and unforgivable. Until you can forgive it.” - oof. Don’t, maybe.

Travis absent-mindedly chewing on things has been majorly relatable for me since campaign 1. XD

Oh Caleb, sweetie. Turning back time, huh. Oh dear.

“If you give me two more hours...” - “No, I can’t give you two more hours. I can’t. I will gauge my eyes out with a pencil if I give you two more hours.”

Sorry, Travis. On top of shopping, there’s now also library trips. :D

Laura/Jester remembers way too many little details about the others, and it’s very endearing, but also at some point it will bite one of these secretive fuckers in the ass, I’m sure.

[subdee]

The Good Place is less radical than classic BL manga Earthian

Back from Colorado!  :D  One of things me and RJ did out there, besides hiking probably about 40 miles in total LOL, was watch every episode of The Good Place on Netflix so I hope you guys don’t mind if I share my (kinda lengthy) thoughts on this series...  I’m transcribing from my cellphone notes so there might be some typos. 

This is a show about what it means to be a good person, and it’s also a comedy that flattens all arguments, so flossing in public accrues negative karma just like sending dick pics, and throwing coke-and-hookers parties on your private yacht is a sin just like having a vanity license plate and playing too much Madden.  

(Yeah, I know they don’t all have the same negative “point” value but they’re all played the same way on the show... for laughs.)  

Meanwhile, only a ridiculously narrow and weirdly culturally specific set of things -  eating vegetarian, raising money for charity, founding a nonprofit, doing all of it because you want to be a good person and not because you want a cosmic reward - gets you sent to the Good Place.

The way the show is set up makes you question the classical idea of Heaven and Hell - are your neighbors, who are mostly good people but don't follow an exact narrowly proscribed set of rules, really going to The Bad Place to be tortured for all eternity? Are you, a good person, really okay with that happening?

In fact, the point system reminded me of Earthian, a classic BL manga by Yun Kouga where plus and minus “checkers” are tasked with tallying up all good and bad actions of humans on Earth.  When the system reaches 10,000 points, if the plusses outnumber the minuses the Earth will be saved, otherwise it will be destroyed.  

Without spoiling too much of the plot of Earthian, as the manga goes on it becomes more and more clear that this system is majorly fucked up - somewhat similar the the first season of the Good Place, in which you question immediately if Heaven is really a place where snobby people get together to congratulate themselves on how great they all are, and eating one too many shrimp cocktails at the party literally causes the sky to collapse. 

More thoughts on Earhian and the Good Place below the cut.. spoilers!

In Earhian, we are similarly lead to question the set up.  Who decides which actions are good and which are bad?  What gives the angels the right to judge humanity in the first place?  What if angelic society has its own set of biases, as bad as anything the humans are doing on Earth?

Actually you know what I think I will spoil the plot of Earthian by telling you that this is actually a very radical manga... it ends up with a plus checker falling in love with a minus checker and the two of them having to defend their right to love each other in court,  PLUS attacking the entire corrupt system of plus/minus checking at the same time.  

So with Earthian in mind, I was watching most of  the first season of The Good Place expecting some kind of dramatic final reveal - that the whole premise of judging is flawed, that there’s shouldn’t be a Good Place or a Bad Place but just a Place where humans go to learn to become better.  

The thing is, though, that while eventually we learn the initial setup for The Good Place is not as it seems, the show still doesn't feel as radical as Earthian, which is manga that directly questions the idea of why some things are taboo.

That's because even though the show advocates for a complicated view of morality by explicitly rejecting moral absolutism (Chidi's character), selfish utilitarianism (Elenor's character), and being either very polished or very crude as shorthands for being good or bad (Tahani and Jason’s characters), the lessons the characters learn still feel narrow and scripted.  When Elenor decides to be good she starts by making her bed; her friends who are bad are still rude.  It’s still virtuous to read books and sinful to follow the Kardashians. 

If I were to sum up the morality of the show, it would be that being good is harder than being bad, the same way that eating vegetables is harder than drinking tequila and reading Kant is harder than watching The Bachelor. This means that being good is essentially a matter of effort... even though some lip service is paid to the concept of moral dilemmas, mostly through Chidi’s character, all the dilemmas on the show have a clear solution  (and Chidi is mocked for being indecisive). 

In other words, even though the classical idea of Heaven and Hell is not right, the show still doesn’t question the idea that some actions are good and others are bad; and that the way to distinguish between these is to listen to the voice in your head that knows which is which. 

But what if there's no voice in your head?  Or what if your voice conflicts with someone else's voice? Elenor’s parents suck so where does her voice even come from, anyway? 

The Good Place comes closest to a radical takedown of the whole system when Eleanor rants before the judge that the whole system should be abolished, MAN, because it's just not fair. And noteably, Eleanor is the only person who passes the judge’s test for being a good person, AND she refuses to go to the Good Place without her friends.  So you could see this as an authorial statement that sticking together is right, and going to Heaven while others go to Hell is wrong.  

But that’s it, no one else really questions the system itself, just their places within it.  During season one I was getting such strong Earthian vibes that I kept expecting them to admit the fundamental flaw in the whole system of judging but they never quite do it, instead they reset time in a bunch of different ways and play out the same system with the same judgements under different scenarios. No matter how they play it out, they still come to the same conclusion that these characters are good but not good enough, which plays into the very narrowly defined idea of Heaven and Hell that was an issue in the first place.

And this plays into the overall Liberal (capital L) morality of the series, where reading is good and eating the last shrimp at the cocktail party is bad; a New York Times -reading view of morality where the good guys are environmental activists passing out flyers in front of the supermarket.

You can make fun of this viewpoint by humorously pointing out that driving under the speed limit is not *literally* as bad as crashing daddy's yacht, but in the end the jokes are probably just jokes; and the solution will probably not be a radical overhaul of the whole system ala Earthian, but advocating for change within it, just like Liberals try to change the system from within by voting Democratic and founding nonprofits.  

So looking back at this, as much as I'd like the ending to be a complete rejection and overthrow of the entire “point” system I don’t think that's the framework. This show seems to be about self improvement so I expect the final reveal to be that *everyone* gets into the Good Place, eventually, and everything that's happened so far has been an elaborate and personalized journey that's set up for each person, in order for them to become their best selves and eventually, earn their place.

Probably all these people were put together because they're about the same amount of not really so bad, and they are supposed to improve each other for however many resets it takes until they all overcome their character flaws, at which point they will ALL go to The Good Place (just like everyone else).

Which is why, after each reset, they are allowed to keep their moral progress even without the experiences that caused them to make that progress in the first place. And I’ll go a step further and speculate the Michael (the demon who thought it was setting the characters up to torture each other) is part of this redemption arc as well; the reason the characters needed to have so many resets is that Michael needed that time to grow past his flaws. 

Not as great as Chidi and Eleanor in court passionately arguing against the inherent flaws of the entire system, but hey it's a feel good ending for a network TV show and if it's turns out this way then I'll take it.

[jq37]

Ok last one. What's the tea on Prompocalypse?

So...that was something, huh?

This is gonna be quick and dirty (relatively speaking, it’s still too long already as I come back and make this edit) because I have work tomorrow and there are def stuff I want to talk about more and I will (esp if I get asks) but I have work in the morning so let’s just get some words onto the screen aight.

The episode titles have had a pretty consistent naming scheme up until this point so the one word, non alliterative title had me at a 7 on the foreboding scale before we even started.

Everyone was in prom wear! And lol, Siobhan is the only one in a dress. That's almost exactly what I pictured Adaine wearing to prom. That exact shade of blue-green. And Emily looks like a waiter. 

I wonder what Bren's plan was for if they'd thwarted the crowning entirely. Got baller initiative, some nat 20's on crown keepaway and smashing, and killed Penelope/Dayne before the bad guys could finish them. Would he just try to crown someone else or would the curb stompage have stood? Not that Goldenhoard would have been a pushover I imagine but jeez. He couldn't have been as strong as his true form.

Sidenote: One of my favorite little character things is Zac and Siobhan helping each other do math.

Fig dimension dooring Gorgug to the stage and then skateboarding away. Amazing.

"I'm going for her crown vs. his crown."/"In this climate?"

OK, shoutout to Zac fo asking for those bombs because they are OP as hell. 

I love how they just charged in and started trying to kill people, no questions asked, no explaining themselves to the other students, just bombs out immediately. 

My man Riz just couldn't catch a break. I understand the out of story reason the police haven't shown up is that Murph was rolling garbage, but what's taking them so long in story? Where? Is? Sklonda?

"I'm going to jump on the back of the Hangman."/”Presumptuous."

But also, by the end of the fight he's just like, "Do anything any party member tells you to!"

Lou losing it over Riz claiming best friend status. But damn, they kinda are the closest to each other in the party. Wild. 

"You know what baby girl? Why don't you ready an action until I get there," said Siobahn to Ally, hilariously for a number of reasons. 

They keep saying Teen Wolf and I have no idea what part of the movie they're referring to. This is the second ep in a row.

Lou trying to recruit a super sad Ragh.

They started off this fight really strong. Doing double digit damage and rolling over 20s. I was like, "Damn, they've leveled up. They're doing great!" Of course, we were still in the first third of the ep so I didn't know where we were going. But Lou was right. "Wild first turn."

"And then I shoot him."

I'm half convinced Riz jinxed everyone by saying, "Remember the corn fight?"

Kristen cast ONE spell and then said, "I don't have a lot of spells left." THAT'S WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU TRY AND SAVE ADAINE'S WORTHLESS FAMILY. YOU ARE THE HEALER. YOU NEED ALL YOUR SPELLS.

The students running to get food on the way out. Mood.

They messed Dayne *up*. This was the high point of the battle, objective-wise.

Sidenote, why would Dayne have needed to be at the Seacaster Manor raid? It feels dumb to ris him when he was such an important part of things. Was it literally just because he didn't like Fabian? And he disliked him enough to try and kill his parents? Yeesh.

Kirsten @ Ragh flipping out over Dayne: I see what's going on here.

Ragh really made this fight harder than it had to be. If Gorgug hadn't been grappled before Penelope got the crown they might have had a fighting chance.

So Penelope just straight up let what's her face (Sam I think) get palimpsested? Major yikes. Like I know it's a good thing they killed her but I kinda wish they hadn't so we could learn exactly what the insane thought process was there. She comes off as crazier than Biz because Biz was trapping girls he didn't respect, not his actual friends, you know? Like, did Goldenhoard say he was gonna make her an actual queen or something? Because all this isn't worth just being prom queen.

"Sometimes you make a villain and they die in the first two rounds," said Brennan, as if he didn't know what he was about to unleash on the party. Geez, I don't know how long they would have survived if Penelope and Dayne had been in play for a large chunk of the fight.

Murph's idea to blind him was a good one.

I almost was like, "Thank God Gorthalax got kidnapped," because that was the only good explanation for him seemingly ditching Fig.

Ally: Was that his best friend? (Emily: What./Siobahn: NO.)

"I'm like an advertisement for chicken."/"What chicken adverts are you watching?"/"It's like if you went to prom and there was a dangling chicken leg."/"What prom did you go to?"

Fabian full on clocking Penelope in the face like he's playing Punch Out.

"I killed my father today. Yes."

"This is against the rules but I don't care." In hindsight, this feels like foreshadowing.

"Well, that's the risk you take when you go to Aguefort Adventuring Academy."

"Get on the fucking right team!"

Lou (a la Gimli): And *my* D6.

Brennan pulling out that GIANT final form Goldenhoard figure.

For some reason, it didn't occur to me that he'd be just a legit dragon in his true form. I was picturing like the lich from Adventure Time or something.

Also, I was kinda expecting him to "Drop the act," and majorly change in personality but he was basically the same. Just a dick.

Gorgug rolls a 4. Brennan pauses for a second. The entire party: No.

Zac goes all in every time no matter how dumb it is. I love him.

"Father, stop this."/"What?"

"Not clever enough for the library and not brave enough for the world." Oww, I felt that one. Did Brennan have that waiting to use or did he come up with it on the spot because that was brutal.

Goldenhoard goes through the whole party, trying to hit their weakest point and he gets what might have been a great hit on Fig (You're so unloveable your father would rather go to hell than stay with you.) but she just says, "You have got to stop flirting with me," and completely diffuses the moment. As unflappable as Brennan is, he had to take a sec to jump back into the insult parade after that.

"I'm going to eat you."/"OH MY GOD."/"I'm not making it sexual!"

"*The* ball, bitch."

OK, I was wondering what the deal was with Riz's dad. Because giving him that gun implies a chance to kill his dad's killer but I didn't think it could be Goldenhoard directly because of the binding. That's another point towards Riz being the one to finish him off.

Wild that they weren't able to get any of the kids (save Ragh eventually) to help them with the fight. You go to adventuring school! Cowards! You would never make it at Sunnydale and that school was mostly normals!

The one dude still just getting food while Goldenhoard has turned into a full on dragon.

When an 18 wasn't a high enough roll for Fig to make her fear check, that's when I realized my earlier apprehension wasn't misplaced. I mean, maybe it should have been when he turned into a dragon but it is what it is.

But Fig skating away and then going, "Just kidding bitch," because she got it on the very next turn was hilarious.

Kristen still not being 100% on whether Ragh is gay or not.

Who was gonna kick Ragh off the team for being gay? Maybe Daybreak would have but Gorthalax def wouldn't have. Maybe he means he would have been bullied off?

Siobahn to Kristen/Ally: Stop outing students.

I can't believe Gorgug had to kiss Ragh in the middle of this fight to get his head in the game.

Also, I didn't get into it before because I knew this scene was coming but poor Ragh. Like, I could have told him things were gonna go this way and he's a big dummy for thinking otherwise, but poor dude. And then he finally gets it together and he gets wrecked.

"EMILY, I SOMETIMES CAN'T TELL WHEN YOU'RE REALLY FUCKING WITH ME OR NOT."

Siobhan doing the D&D equivalent of reminding the teacher they had homework.

The amount of dice that Brennan rolled for Goldenhoard was truly horrifying. That's permadeath damage.

AND HE GOT THE HEALER DOWN FIRST. This was the next moment I started sensing a TPK.

"HOMOPHOBE!"/"You hit both of the gay ones!"

Kristen taking damage from Goldenhoard's libertarian speech.

I find it such a Fig move to be like, "Can I use charm person to snap Adaine out of it," instead of the spell actually made for that purpose. 

Rolling low perception and getting no information is the worst because then it's like...OK I know something's out there but what dammit?

When Brennan said Fig would have to do opposed athletics against Adaine, that was the first time I was like, "Oh thank God she's so weak."

Murph forgetting to uncanny dodge until midway through the ep was uncharacteristic. Really shows how wild the fight was. 

"This kid likes to get his ass beat to a soundtrack."

Fabian refusing to just use the stairs like a normal person. 

Penelope going, "What's your deal?" like she's not helping an evil dragon who wants to rule the world. 

JAWBONE

JAWBONE JAWBONE JAWBONE

My man Jawbone shot way up on the list of cool adults today.

For real, the scene with Jawbone and Adaine was my second favorite moment of the episode and it would have been my favorite if not for a bit of divine intervention later. 

I already made a post about this but Jawbone notices Adaine flipping the hell out and he asks her if she has panic attacks and if her parents gave her any meds for it. She responds in, like, the smallest, most broken and defeated voice with a tiny head shake, "My parents just left and I don't know where they are." Gah, my heart. She was half crying. I was half awake and being kicked in the face with the full force of human emotion. It was a lot. I felt like I was a kid watching that one scene from Fresh Prince again but British-er. She gets that her parents suck and she hates them but she's 14. Everyone wants their parents to love them. It's like in our DNA.

And then Jawbone launches into the wildest motivational speech ever (including all of Kristen's, which is saying a lot) which starts with him sucking off a border patrol agent. (You understand me?/No!)

Ally, MVP of Terrible Speeches: *That* was the point?

Siobhan trying not to crack up and break character throughout that whole scene was great.

I love that Brennan was clearly trying to not encourage people to mess with their med dosage irl because he was very specific about that but also he was like, "A dragon is about to end the world so please shotgun this bottle of magic Xanax and hop on that bike."

I love that Adaine has all the magic stuff in her inventory and then also Xanax.

Aww, Jawbone offered to let her live with him because her house burned down. (I guess that info was on the news?)

And then Adaine rolls a 20 with the help from her meds (and buffs) right away! It's great when the dice cooperate.

"I came here to FUCK SHIT UP. And help children."

"Jawbone rules. I'm so glad we helped him get his life together."

Jawbone is such a sketch person but such a good counselor.

Siobhan calling Goldenhoard and absolute fucking unit sayed be at 5 in the morning when I watched this.

"I AM A CHILD. YOU ARE ATTACKING A BUNCH OF CHILDREN YOU COWARD."

"Then why is your dick out?" Adaine joining in Fig w/ the taunting Goldenhoard via accusations of flirting. 

"Why are you guys partially singed?"/"Because he's been attacking us Dad! Also Dad, he kind of used to come on to me all the time."

"Play the drums more and we'll have a full band on stage!"/"...Instead."

"You ruined prom!"/"I RUINED PROM?"

At this point I was thinking, "Geez, there's not a lot of episode left and Penelope isn't even dead yet. How could they possibly defeat Goldenhoard AND have time for tying up loose ends?" TPK vibes increase.

Adaine getting a nat 20 on Arcana, "Yeah it is what it is. You're screwed."

Hell yeah for Adaine giving Goldenhoard her low divination roll to ensure her lightning bolt hit. Not that it ended up mattering that much but still. Sick.

"Well you could have told me before this very moment!"/"I was dead!"

I just checked on the stats of an an adult red dragon in 5E and it's got 256 HP. 256! And look at the other stats! They're wild.

"This is the number of dice?"/"Yeah."/"God."

Fig goes down. Their secondary healer. So, not good. Very not good.

Brennan letting Emily burn Goldenhoard's tie as she passes out because Emily refuses to do nothing.

And Riz goes down too! The one with the med kit! At this point I was like, there is no way this can end well.

"How far away is the hospital?" I love it when they try just normal solutions in this magic game like calling their parents and going to the hospital.

It is an hour and 47 minutes into the episode before Adaine remembers she's wearing a magic coat that can make her anything (within reason). Which, to be fair, it took me a little bit too but, in my defense, I'm not staring at her character sheet.

Real talk, I didn't think she was gonna get anything from the jacket from that ask. Something to beat Kalvaxis is such a big ask.

When Brennan started going into the jacket stuff I was like, this is a really weird deus ex machina if that's what this is. But also, the kids have been hilariously chill with just having Adaine walk around in a jacket filled with people.

There was a lot to unpack there and I'll got to it in another post but I can't do another 4k epic this week y'all. I have work in the morning.

Adaine yelling for Basrar to get them their ice cream before they freaking die.

Aww Gorthalax tried to heal Fig instead of attacking.

"Daddy that was a waste of a turn."

Gorgug who has a million hit points went down and all the healers are down. There are less than ten minutes left in the episode. TPK for sure, I'm thinking.

Adaine flipping people off with a vengeance today.

Also the fact that she totally forgot that she could ask for a healing potion which is totally a thing that she almost def would have been able to get is hilarious. I mean it wouldn't have been as funny if the episode ended differently but, as it stands, hilarious.

"Does the Hangman know medicine?"

"What about this student? Is he studying to be a cleric?"

Adaine is down. That's everyone down but Fabian. Three and a half minutes left. And that's when I realize. There's not enough time for a good ending, but there's not enough time for a bad ending either. But there's no S2. This is an anthology series. What's going on here my sleepy 6am brain is saying.

Fig giving her dad bardic inspiration while passed out because Emily is Emily.

Everyone (exceptt Riz) was making their saves. I'm thinking, "Is next season different characters, same setting. Maybe a bunch of years in the future? Legacy characters?" I'm trying to put together the fact that this is the finale with 2 minutes left with the fact that they're playing different characters next season. The pieces aren't fitting. 

And that's because I couldn't have predicted what was about to happen.

Ally, clearly joking says, "Can I roll for a nat 20 and just be alive?"

Brennan, barely thinking, says, "Sure, go for it," as casually as if he was okaying a perception check.

Murph and Lou are cracking up at the absurdity of the ask. 

Ally says, "This is to the corn god," half solem, half smiling.

Siobhan holds her hand over the dice like she's blessing them.

"I know I left for a while," Ally starts as the dice are cast and...

"NAT 20 MOTHERFUCKER!"

Everyone goes WILD.

Ally punches air.

Brennan looks like someone slapped him.

Emily: You have to rip up your comparative world religions book.

BONUS EPISODE UNLOCKED

And what did we learn today? A 5 percent chance is small, but not insignificant. 

OK, there’s one thing I want to address before I tap out for the night (and it’s not spell checking. I’ll do that in the morning).

I saw some people discussing the possibility that they faked the ending. Like, they just edited it like that to give them another chance because they were all about to die. Beyond the fact that I just trust them to not have done that, the other big reason I don’t think that’s likely is because there was a much more seamless way of stacking the deck in their favor. Brennan could have had Adaine pull literally anything out of her jacket. And I truly mean anything because this is a finale. Even if he gave her something game breaking, it wouldn’t have set a precedent because it’s the last ep. And that’s beyond all the NPCs that could plausibly have come in because they know something is up and teleportation is a thing in this world. Nah, I think that was just good, old fashioned, luck of the roll and thank Helio because they needed it.

OK, that’s it for now! Join me at some point between now and next ep to unpack this because it’s a lot and apparently we have another episode to get through. Hoot growl baby!