#Fuck That Bullshit Noise I Don't Play That Game

[eph3merall]

. . . ( part 2 )

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"nah, what the fuck is this— big bad wolf bullshit?" you can hear matt's voice falter for a second, your bare knees digging into the wood floor of his room. he decided to stream for a few hours tonight, both chris and nick away doing their own things.

for the first hour and a half matt just played some games until you got bored and snuck under his desk, his hand cupping your cheek to give it a light warning smack to whatever cheeky ideas that were brewing in your head.

deft hands slowly started tugging his sweatpants down, to which he just hummed and swiveled around gently in his chair for a second. settling back down, matt was leaning forwards a little to put some music on for the stream, shouting out names he was able to catch that were gifting.

he's fixing his headset and turning the music up a little, it's mainly just to hide any groans and sighs he lets out however. for a second, he steals a glance down at you to find you slowly lowering the hem of his boxers, and he responds by subtly lifting his hips.

matt didn't totally like this idea. one little mistake and the whole stream of.. fifteen thousand people would know what was going on, but he couldn't deny how painfully hard he was just by seeing you on your knees—a little cramped under the small space of his desk.

when you free his length to find pre already dribbling from his slit, your thumb reaches up to thumb at his tip and spread the bead of pre made lube down his shaft. you don't miss the way his thighs tense, hips twitching up a little as you listen to the way he scolds the chat for telling him to react to edits and read fanfiction.

one hand rests on his thigh while the other jerks up and down slowly, twisting your wrist up at the top as you lean forward. parting your lips, you let some saliva drip down the length of his dick and don't miss the heavy sigh he lets out.

soon you're hollowing your cheeks out and bobbing your head gently up and down matt's cock—one hand threading through your hair and digging blunt nails into the back of your head. you can't see his face—but you can hear the way his voice trembles once in awhile and how heavy he's breathing.

your nose presses into his skin, dick shoved all the way down your throat and you gag—only forcing matt to ball one of his hands up into a fist to pretened to cough because he was about this close to letting out a groan.

the noisy slurping and gagging noises of your mouth have him panicking for a second before he's quickly turning the volume of the music up, per chat's request and totally not because it put him just a little more at ease.

he keeps a hand casual over his mouth or on his face, pretending to cough or whatever. his other hand is leaving your head—fingers twitching to pull you off just so he can fuck your throat to his heart's content.

so far so good, right? the stream went pretty smoothly until you'd done something with your tongue and he felt his tip hit the back of your throat, and matt's head is tilting back against his gaming chair and a tortured groan is ripped from his lips.

oops?

notes. sorry if this has spelling mistakes / mistakes in general or anything doesn't make sense i am TIREDD... feel kinda insane w how good matt n chris looked on stream tho. anyways where the fuck did 75 followers come from? like? what??? thank u all i love u guys <3 know its not a lot but argghhb + i reached 100+ notes on a post like ugh <33

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©eph3merall 2024

[bountycancelled]

house of cards (a challengers au)

requested: no, but send challengers reqs I BEG !

warnings: none :)

content: tension I guess? readers kind of a go with the flow typa gyal, but the flow is sometimes manipulative and evil so... tashi and art both play (different games but they still play) patrick is a loser, but he's my loser so it's okay lowercase intended, unedited.

a/n: back after like a half year hiatus, and im on my challengers bullshit, hope you enjoy this cuz I wrote in a day lol

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"you know, sometimes it feels like you hate me." the words leave your lips before you can stop them, coming out of your mouth with the kind of instantaneous honesty you learnt during your many years around tashi. admiring her, envying her, loving her, and hating her all the same.

she raises an amused brow, the sides of her mouth quirking up in a half smile. she probably thinks it's funny, your train of thought. you're in her dorm right now, laying on her bed with your head rested against her shoulder while some episode of some show serves as background noise. and yet, you seem unsure that she even wants you here.

but the one thing you can count on tashi to know, is what she wants. so if she's sure that she doesn't hate you, you should be too. "I don't hate you. I love you, more than usual, honestly."

that shouldn't make your stomach flip in the way it does, but you've always been a little like a hungry dog waiting to be thrown a bone when it came to affection, from anyone really (a problem that you thought you were working on effectively, you weren't.) but mostly tashi, who's affection was about as rare as the sight of her not playing tennis. well, maybe that comparison was in poor taste after the injury, but anyway.

"why is that?" you hope you don't come off as eager as you are to hear what you've done to further place yourself in her good graces (you do, but don't worry, tashi thinks it's cute.)

"you're the only one who still plays tennis with me. real tennis." she nudges you off of her shoulder as she speaks, forcing you to look at her, leaving you to tackle that feeling that always seemed to arise whenever she was close. a feeling that would rather die that put a name to.

god, you were such a tryhard when it came to her. you let her tell you about her escapade with the notorious 'fire and ice' duo, art and patrick. you assured that it was totally okay to pit two friends against each other for the prospect of getting her, you nodded along when patrick came out victorious, and you comforted her when she eventually broke it off.

and the cherry on top of this absolutely miserable sundae of yours, you played exactly the same way you used to play with her, because you knew it was what she wanted, and anything she wanted, you'd give it to her.

and she knew that, of course. one of the reasons she kept you around.

she brought her face close to yours, so close, closer, closer... before turning your own face to plant a kiss on your cheek, deciding to pay attention to the show you two had put on her laptop, completely shattering what you thought had been a moment between you and her. not the first time she's done that, not the last time you'll think that.

you inhale and exhale deeply, willing yourself to not spend the whole night picking that last ten seconds of that interaction apart, trying to analyse if you were running on pure delusion, or if something had been there, between you two.

but you do anyway, and you don't come to a solid conclusion. when it comes to tashi, you never do.

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your run in with patrick is unexpected, but what is expected is just how fucking miserable he looks. you debate just leaving the diner all together, finding another place to eat. hell, not eating at all would be better than whatever conversation you could possibly have with the ex boyfriend of your best friend. the poor thing is still wearing that grey 'I told ya' shirt, and it's evident that he isn't taking any of this well.

you understand both of them, patrick blames himself (it's not his fault, at least not to you) and tashi needed someone to blame. there's a small part of you thats just glad you weren't the one that she chose, but it's small, and the bigger parts of you just want to pull patrick into a hug, but you're unsure of how appropriate that would be. unsure of if he would even want that from you. because you're not actually on his side, you'd never be on the side opposing tashi, and patrick knows that.

that doesn't stop his eyes from lighting up in hopeful recognition as he spots you awkwardly lingering by the entrance, and now you have to go and sit with him because you are not about to kick a dog while it's down. you flag down a waiter and order for yourself, turning to face him with a pensively worried expression.

"are you... okay?"

patrick laughs at your words, not because he thinks it's funny that you ask. (even in the event that you're just pretending to care, he's just thankful that you humoured him by sitting down) he laughs because he knows that you know that he's not. even if the two of you were strangers, you'd sense his misery from the second you entered and took one look at him.

"never better. foods here." he changes the topic swiftly, and you're starving, so you don't try to redirect it, stuffing your face almost as unapologetically as he is. but once the food finishes and you await the bill, you take another long look at him, and the sadness in his eyes make your heart ache.

you don't owe anything to patrick, but for whatever reason, you find yourself reaching for his hand, holding it in your own and giving it a comforting squeeze, smiling back at him sympathetically when he flashes you a grateful half smile.

maybe it's the unique circumstances of the breakup, or his sad brown eyes, or that one time you two played a "friendly" game right before him and tashi got together (the looks he gave you from across the court would be misplaced, but tennis was intrinsically sexy, and so was patrick, so you tried not to overthink it. tried.)

or maybe it's the emalgumation of every look that would make you squint curiously at him, every casual touch that would last too long because patricks patrick, every tipsy kiss on the cheek, or shoulder squeeze, but after you two leave the diner (he pays, and you feel bad about it, but don't comment further.) but when you face each other outside the establishment, the sunset painting the sky, you pull him into a hug.

the hug feels... far too intimate for two friends (were you still friends? you weren't sure.) but, whatever. he's hurt, grieving the loss of someone that would surely break you if you lost them and the loss of his own best friend, so you're not gonna judge. he wraps his arms around you slowly, hiding his face away in the crook of your neck, holding you so gently that a passerby would think that you're the one being comforted.

you tell him to call you if he ever feels lonely, immediately regretting your language because it sounds like you wanna fuck him, but he understands what you meant. and then, you say your goodbyes.

you don't tell tashi about that interaction. and you don't think you will.

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your run in with art isn't intentional, but he's grateful for it.

he knows that you and tashi usually run drills together at the courts on saturdays, its not crowded since everyone is in their dorms trying to piece themselves together after a shitty week. but he also knows that tashi needs to rest right now, so you'd most likely be alone. but he doesn't strike then, the racket in your hand will make you too focused, he knows that all too well. you'd be giving him one word answers, barely paying him any mind and probably wanting him to fuck off as soon as possible.

so while he's wracking his brain, thinking of another opportunity to find a way in with you, because being closer to you meant being even closer to tashi, he's seconds away from getting on his knees and praising the gods above when he sees in the cafeteria, alone.

him being there for her when the injury happened was simply happenstance, and he was lucky in a roundabout sort of way, getting to comfort tashi and hopefully building a good image of himself in your mind, because you were there too, of course.

but that wouldn't cut it. he needed to be truly in with you, and he needed a new best friend anyway, he'd basically sold his last one off, so this was a two birds, one stone kind of situation.

you don't look up when art sits in front of you. because one, you know its him, he has the nervous kind of energy whenever he's around you, different to the kind of nervous energy he has when tashis around, but you can still sniff him out regardless. and two, you're still feeling shitty about that whole... thing with patrick, too shitty to care that blondies over here in front of you, trying to get in with tashi.

"they stale or something?" he asks, his smile stupidly warm and inviting as he points towards the cheese fries on your plate, completely untouched. you shoot air through your nose, smiling despite yourself before giving him a response. "no, I'm just grappling with the fact that I'm a shitty friend, and maybe even a shitty person in general."

he hums, holding his hand towards your tray as a silent question, and you push it towards him nonchalantly, letting him take what he wants. he feels way too good about a simple tray, but something about you sharing your food gives him hope that you haven't completely ruled him out.

"well, think about it this way. the average person needs to have at least one of these traits in order to be liked. talent, kindness or looks. you're a fucking beast on that court, and you're gorgeous, so you don't even need to worry about being a good person." it's easy to butter you up a bit, because the words he's saying are true, and he had a feeling that telling you what he honestly felt was the route to go with.

you roll your eyes at his words, but the compliment makes you bite back a smile. you're only human, after all, and not even you are invincible to the charms of one art donaldson.

but you keep your cool, waiting for the inevitable of him bringing up tashi, with the obligatory acting like that wasn't why he sat with you in the first place. but it comes later in the conversation than you thought it would, he's asks if she's doing any better, and you answer with an honest 'no.'

maybe this is just another one of his tactics, pretending that he's fully interested in getting to know you with no tashi shaped ulterior motive. but it works. because you end up talking over your now empty tray for a while, so long that you're late to your next class.

the look that he gives you when you leave is one of longing, but it was a specific kind longing, one linked to tashi. that's what art tells himself too, as he watches you walk away.

[loverofthewindgod]

Shower Show (18 +)

A/N: I thought about Fujin watching me while I shower, and boom came this story. Please enjoy! 😉😉😊😊

You return home from a month-long mission, warmly welcomed back by your beloved Lord Fujin. He's just as excited, if not more, as you are to spend time together, but first you wanna freshen up and take a very well-deserved shower. “Ahhh…this feels so nice…” The hot water felt amazing, washing away the dirt, stress, and bullshit from your skin and hair. As you relaxed, you heard the curtain shuffle behind you and turned around to find Fujin biting his lip and stroking his member while gazing at you in all your wet glory.

“Heh, couldn't help yourself, huh? Don't worry, I'm almost done.”

"Ohh, do not mind me, my love. Take all the time you need, and I'll enjoy this wonderous view."

Don't let his adorable soft gaze fool you. The second you step out of the shower, he will go absolutely feral on you. Pretty sure your body was more heated than the water at that point just thinking about it. As you continue to wash yourself, your mischievous mind decides to take over and tease the man. You rubbed all over your body in such a sultry manner, fondling your own breasts, hands tracing your curves as your hips give a little shake. You glance over your shoulder a bit to see Fujin mesmerized, stroking himself a bit faster as he enjoys the sexy water dance.

"Haa...you're just soo fucking beautiful..."

The desperation in his tone and groans are turning you on more and more. He's absolutely craving you right this moment, but hey, he decided to torture himself by watching. You smirked as you turned back around, bending over to rub your legs. The groan that left Fujin's throat as he saw your massive plump ass just a few inches from his cock, man oh man it drove him insane.

"You're playing a very, very dangerous game, sweetheart..."

“Am I now?”

Indeed you were. You began to rub your pussy, spreading your lips to display your tight, moist entrance with a seductive look in your eye.

“All for you baby…”

Aaaand with that....that right there was the final blow that broke the wind god. Accepting your invitation, he immediately shut off the water, picked you up over his shoulder and plopped you down on the bed. He didn't care how wet the bed was, he was gonna make you even wetter. You sat up on your elbows, taking the sight of Fujin removing all his clothes, his eyes completely filled with lust as he crawled his way towards you.

"I'm glad you've enjoyed yourself, sweetheart. But now it is my turn..."

Fujin swiftly pulled you by the legs towards him, and spread them wide open. Immediately digging his face in your pussy, you yelped very loudly, grasping onto his hair before he took both your hands and placed them at your side, going to town on you. His tongue rapidly penetrates your entrance, slurps up your entire mound like its ice cream and sucks the ever living fuck out of your sensitive clit. It was way too much and before you knew it, your legs trembled ferociously with your sweet delicious nectar exploding all over his face. You were a screaming, squirming mess.

“Ahhh! Nghh! Mmmm! Oh my- oh my g-AHH!! FUUUCK!! OHHHH!”

Fujin chuckled as he wiped his face and laid himself on top of you to whisper in your ear.

"So soon, what a shame. I was just getting started….”

Fujin then stuffed himself inside of you, and the sensation was just blissful.

"Nngh…FUCK!…" Fujin hissed, trying to compose himself.

That might've been the sexiest "Fuck" you've ever heard and it made you tighten around him even more. Without wasting another second, Fujin lifted up your legs and began thrusting like a madman. The slick wet noises echoed throughout the room, and you covered your mouth trying not to scream your lungs out, but Fujin feels way too damn good to not scream. He wanted to hear your sweet voice, to be reminded how good he makes you feel. His pace quickened, and you were just in heaven. You caught a glimpse of him immersed in the sight of his cock going in and out of you, his moans getting louder and louder before he halted himself and flipped you over on your stomach. He took you from behind, his pace now at a dangerous level. Your screams were buried in the pillows, hands and teeth gripping the sheets for dear life as he gripped your hips, enjoying the sight of your ass bouncing from his relentless pounding. You felt your knot break and came again, as did Fujin, screaming his ass off as he blesses your insides with copious amounts of his seed.

The both of you collapsed on the bed. Exhausted but oh so satisfied, panting as your naked, sweaty bodies snuggled together. But before engaging in another round, you needed to refuel. “Can we order takeout, please?” Fujin chuckled in agreement, kissing your cheek, super delighted to have you back.

[muwapsturniolo]

✯𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐀𝐭 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐭✯

IN WHICH...Nick is confronted about his actions in freshman year by an ex-best friend. Feelings are brought up and they both come to a conclusion.

WARNINGS... small bit of angst, mainly fluff, mentions of homophobia, feelings that were never said, that's about it.

Nick was exhausted, but for some reason, he could not fall asleep. He's tried everything, turning on his fan noises, drinking a warm cup of milk, and even counting sheep.

But nothing worked.

He figured it was the jet lag, the time difference between California and Boston throwing him off... But he knows deep down that's not the reason. This has been happening every day since that moment in high school, never being able to sleep well after it. That single moment had a domino effect in his life, keeping a firm grasp on his brain and never letting go.

It was an endless cycle that he now has become used to.

He thought as time went on he would forget that moment, his mind would push the memories to the back and he would forget about it, unfortunately, that's not the case. Every single day he thinks about it, when he's in the shower, when he's eating breakfast, even when he's filming videos with his brothers.

It's all he can think about.

He sighs as he tosses and turns in his bed, eventually covering his face with a pillow and sighing as he hears Chris's faint voice yelling. He and Matt were in Chris's room playing a game, Nate being with them.

His phone chiming makes him remove the pillow from his face, grabbing the phone with a sigh. He figures it's Chris asking him to bring him a drink and or snack, but he was wrong.

a simple text notification is on his screen.

xxx-xxx-xxxx: meet me at our spot.

His stomach drops seeing the number and text on his screen. The number wasn't saved in his phone, but he knew who it was.

How could he forget Y/n? His best friend and crush since middle school.

Memories of that day in freshman year flash through Nick's mind.

"Nick what's going on? Why have you been ignoring me?" Y/n asks in annoyance, the two of them standing outside Nick's home after coming from school. Nick huffs and and avoids eye contact with the boy in front of him. "Nothing's going on, I've just been bus-bullshit! You're lying!" Nick becomes frustrated and lashes out at the boy.

"I don't want to be your friend anymore! Ok?! gosh, I thought you would have taken the hint!" It hurts Nick to see the hurt on Y/n's face, the boy's brows furrowing in confusion.

"W-what? But we promised each other when we got to high school we would always be friends...It was us against everything."

"Yeah well, I lied, get over it!" Nick storms into the house, pushing past Matt and Chris, and straight to his room.

Nick is brought out of his memories by his phone dinging once again, this time a location being shared. He debates, does he go and meet up with Y/n after all these years? Or does he stay home in a restless slumber?

"Fuck..." Nick stands from his bed and throws on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, his Birkenstocks being slipped on before he leaves his room. He exits the home through the back door and begins walking down the familiar streets of his childhood.

He soon arrives at the park and walks into the woods, looking around in fear.

"I swear to god if I get murdered I'm going to haunt whoever-Shit!" He grunts as he trips over a tree stump. He sits up and glares at the stump in annoyance, his eyes softening when he notices the markings on the tree.

both his and Y/n's name carved onto the stump.

That was the day they made the pact to be friends no matter what.

Y/n grunts as he uses the scissors to carve Nick's name into the stump. "You're going to hurt yourself!" Nick cringes as he watches the boy stick his tongue out in concentration. "Shut up, no I won't!" Nick rolls his eyes and crosses his arms in annoyance. Y/n soon finishes and smiles at his handiwork.

"Nick look!" He says in excitement. Nick peeks around the boy and smiles seeing their names carved into the stump. "It looks like Trevor did it- Hey!" Nick shouts as he rubs his leg, Y/n swatting at it. The older boy (by two months) turns to Nick fully, looking at him with a determined gaze.

"We need to make a pact!"

"A pact? For what?"

"Yes a pact doofus! This pact is a promise for us to always remain friends when we get to high school!" Y/n spits in his own hand and holds his hand out to Nick. Nick gives him a dirty look, "That's gross! I'm not doing that!"

"Nick come one! This is important!" Nick grumbles and spits into his own hand, soon clasping it with Y/n's and cringing at the feeling.

Nick feels an ache in his chest as he recalls that day. The two boys had spent the rest of the day by their stump, making memories neither of them could forget...and Nick ruined it. He sighs and stands up, brushing off his pants and continuing his trek to their spot.

The spot was this abandoned gazebo they found in middle school.

The gazebo sat on the edge of this lake, vines of all kinds twisting around the pillars of the structure. It was so deep into the woods that you couldn't see or hear the bustling streets of Boston, it was peaceful.

They use to spend all their time there, hiding away from the world and never telling anyone where they were.

Nick remembers the first time he saw the spot, Y/n being overly excited to show the boy.

"Nicky come on! It's going to be dark soon and we will have to go home!" Y/n urges impatiently. Nick was a few feet behind, screeching at the bugs swarming around him and stumbling over roots and rocks. As soon as he caught up, Y/n grabbed his hand and yanked him the rest of the way.

The two arrive and Nick is instantly in awe, "how did you find this place?" Y/n giggles and sits down on the cement flooring of the gazebo.

"That doesn't matter, what matters is that this is now our spot! I'm thinking we can hang up those fairy lights and we can-" As Y/n rambles about ways to make the gazebo theirs, Nick is staring at him in amazement.

Nick is pulled out of his memories by the gazebo coming into view.

He begins to panic, his body tensing as he feels the anxiety settling in just from the simple thought of seeing Y/n again after all these years. "Fuck it, I can't do-OH MY GOD!" Nick screams in fright as he turns around and bumps into a person. Whoever it was grabbed onto him, but Nick jerked back, making both of them fall and roll down the small hill.

Nick groans in pain once they finally stop rolling. Nick sits up and looks down, his eyes widening once he recognizes the face under him.

"Y-Y/n?"

"Well, I'm definitely sobered up now...Hey Nicky."

Nick swats at the boy's chest, a look of annoyance on his face.

"What is wrong with you?! Why would you scare me like that?" Y/n laughs and sits up, both his hands resting on Nick's waist. Nick tenses at the action before quickly climbing off of him.

"I wasn't trying to scare you, I was literally about to say your name before you started freaking out," he says standing up. He offers Nick a hand and pulls him off the ground.

Both of them examine eachother carefully, taking in the differences from their freshman-year bodies. "You uh...You look good Nick...I like the piercing."

"Yeah thanks... You look good too." Nick states softly.

The silence between them is loud, the tension thick before y/n breaks it, "Did you want to go down there?" He motions to the platform of the gazebo. Nick silently nods, being too scared to speak.

They make the short walk to the platform, memories of them doing this all the time flooding back.

They settle down, both of them sitting crisscross as they stare at the lake in front of them. The only sounds being heard are the rippling of the water, and the flickering of Y/n's lighter as he sparks a cigarette.

They sit in silence for a moment before Y/n speaks up.

"Why did you do that to me our freshman year?" Nick feels his heart fall to the pits of his stomach, not expecting to be confronted so bluntly.

"Wow ripping the band-aid right off..." Y/n gives Nick a look making Nick sigh.

"I'm... I don't know..."

"You don't know? You don't know why you told me you lied about us staying friends through high school? That's the biggest lie I've ever heard."

Nick becomes defensive, "ok well why are you still hung up on it? I moved on why haven't you?" Y/n scoffs at the response, his cigarette long forgotten.

"You're a fucking liar, you didn't move on. If you had, you wouldn't have showed up tonight!" Nick quickly looks down at the flowing water.

Y/n was right, he wasn't over it.

Y/n speaks up after a moment of silence, "You hurt me Nick... You were my best friend, and out of nowhere you switched up and I don't know why. I raked my mind trying to figure out if I ever did something to you to make you ditch me and I came up empty-handed. I didn't deserve what you did but I do want closure....You owe me that much."

All the bottled-up emotions Nick has been suppressing for years are about to explode, tears forming in his eyes.

"I-um-I... I'm gay..."

"Nick I already knew that, what does that have to do with you ditching me for no reason?"

Nick sighs and rubs at his eyes, trying to stop the tears, "N-no I know you know that, it's not that hard to notice, but I stopped being your friend because I'm gay." Y/n's eyes soften at the confession.

"Nick...Did you think I was going to hate you for being gay?"

Nick nods softly, "I umm... I didn't want you to hate me for being who I am, it killed me to think it would happen. I was already scared my own family wouldn't accept me, I couldn't handle it if you didn't... I was already pushing Chris and Matt away, I just figured I would do the same to you."

Y/n moves closer to Nick and pulls him into a hug, "Nick, I could never hate you for being yourself, you should have known that."

"I couldn't help it! So much was happening and I didn't know what to do!" Nick runs a hand through his hair in frustration, all the old memories and feelings coming back from that time of life.

"It's ok Nick...I get it. I know exactly what you were going through. When I realized I was gay, I com-You're gay?" Nick cuts Y/n off, pulling away from the embrace and looking at him in shock.

"Yeah, I am. I came out after we graduated."

Nick stares at him for a moment, this news shocking him.

"When-What made you realise?"

"You."

Y/n can't help but laugh at the shock on Nick's face. He knows his answer was very blunt and nonchalant, but it was the truth. He didn't see the need to lie, especially to Nick.

"M-me? What do you mean me?"

Y/n shrugs, starting to flick his lighter, a nervous habit he picked up when he started smoking. " For the longest time, I couldn't figure out why I never hated you after what you did. I was so upset, crying and constantly talking about it at any chance I got. My family and my friends couldn't understand why I was still so upset about our friendship ending, even after a couple years...It wasn't until you came out that I realized why I was so upset...It was because I was gay and I had a crush on you, but you pushed me away."

Y/n turns to Nick and gives a sad smile, " You were gay and pushed me away because you thought I would hate you, meanwhile I was gay and had a crush on you...Funny how that turned out."

All Nick can do is stare at him, his mind working a thousand miles a minute trying to comprehend what he just heard. Once it does register, he wants to slam his head against the pavement.

"I actually want to scream, I want to bite the curb."

Y/n scoffs at Nick's words, "damn, is me having a crush on you that bad?"

"No fuckface! I had a crush on you too, but I was too fucking dumb to comprehend my feelings and I pushed you away! God, I'm so stupid!" Nick hits his forehead a few times before covering his face with his hands.

Y/n laughs out, full-on cracking up. Nick slowly lifts his head from his hands, eyes squinted as he glares at the boy. "This is literally not funny, why are you laughing?"

"Because this is the most closeted gay conversation I've ever had." Y/n has tears in his eyes from how hard he's laughing, his stomach cramping.

Nick groans and covers his face once more, not being able to deal with Y/n's antics. After a few minutes of uncontrollable laughter, Y/n glances at Nick, a look of affection in his eye. He moves closer, his thigh touching Nick's. Nick tenses at the feeling, not knowing how to feel with him being so close.

Y/n gently pulls Nick's hands away from his face, both boys looking at each other.

Y/n feels something burst in his chest, the moonlight shining down on Nick, making his blue eyes shine brighter than they already are. He could stay here all night if he could, getting lost in the sea of Nick's eyes and enjoying being close after years apart.

The two of them slowly get closer, their breathing speeding up. they get so close they can feel each other's breath fanning over.

"Do you still have a crush on me?"

"I'm here aren't I?"

That's all the conformation Y/n needed to plant his lips against Nick's

Both boys kiss each other with ease, the old connection and knowledge of each other making it so much easier to do so. It wasn't stressful, it was not nerve-wracking,

It's right.

They eventually pull away, huge smiles on both of their faces.

The happiness in their system gives them a sense of adrenaline, y/n pulling Nick up and dragging him through the woods, just as he used to do when they were kids. They both climb into Y/n's car, not knowing where they are going but just wanting to enjoy whatever the night brings.

They spend the rest of the night driving around, pulling off the side of the road to occasionally make out before hitting the streets once again.

They soon stumble inside Nick's home, bursting through the backdoor. They stop in their tracks seeing Chris, Matt, and Nate in the kitchen.

"Where the hell have you been Nick?! It's 5 am!"

"Y/n?"

Nate looks down seeing both boys holding hands tightly. He looks back up at Y/n and smiles,

"You finally came clean?"

Y/n laughs and ushers Nick into the bedroom, closing the door and locking it before one of the three boys can say anything else. Nick's lips instantly find his, both boys moving back to the bed.

As the two make out for the millionth time, they can't help but think about how happy they are being back in each other's arms. The years of being away from each other not mattering anymore, the thought of the future not even crossing their minds,

All that matters is now.

im apologizing for the ending, i couldn't figure out a way to end it

𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 🍑: @mattslolita @thenickgirl @guccifrog @luverboychris @zayyluvz @mrsmiagreer @chrisssluttywaist @78yaz @hoesformatt @freshloveforthefit @3lizaluvs @mattsturniolosgirlfriend @jetaimevous @luxy-nyx @ts-is-my-spirt-animal @iihrtsturniol0 @idontexistman @katw4shereee @madisturn @starlace111 @zivall @adoreindie @imwetforyourmom @sturnsxplr-25 @sturncakez @theyluvme-2315 @moonk1ss3d @@babyalliah-777 @sturniololol @oliviasturniolo21 @ariithereyet @blahbel668

[hoodreader]

Astrology Lyric Breakdown ⊹ ໑°₊·

Sunday Service [RMX] — Latto, ft. Flo Milli and Megan Thee Stallion

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Latto ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

♪ do you rap or do you tweet? ‘cuz i can’t tell, get in the booth, bitch! – sagittarius mercury conjunct sagittarius pluto

very direct in how she address shit. she not a fan of the subs and whatnot, or the gossip online. she talks about it candidly in an interview, saying something along the lines of, “if you wanna do that, we can do that” (re: dissing another female rapper).

♪ i don't sing rnb, but bitch i'm really her. fuck wrong with niggas?

♪ how you let him cheat then take him back? must be your only nigga — capricorn venus

capricorn is a very no-bullshit sign. high standards, not really the one to fuck around when they feel like a relationship is no longer worth an investment. and while the capricorn venus woman is dedicated and devoted, saturn’s nature is very comfortable with exerting boundaries when needed. especially since hers is square libra (air) mars. ir’s giving her cut off game is strong, because both saturn and air are both associated with detachment. and (secure) saturnians i met tend to have too much esteem to wallow with someone they feel is holding them back.

♪ i get loud just like my weed, i don’t watch my tone with niggas. i hang up the phone on niggas – sagittarius mercury conjunct sagittarius pluto, sagittarius mercury sextile libra mars.

sag mercuries as is are can be very vibrant speakers. also can be quite brash. she don’t beat around the bush. so when you got her fucked up? trust and believe she gon match that energy. she not gon play around and she not the one to appease another. especially with that pluto there. i’m speaking from personal experience, when mercury and pluto are in contact, the native usually got a smart ass mouth. then her mercury is detriment? she might’ve gotten popped in the mouth as a kid for her retorts. and the thang is? she probably ain’t give a single fuck either.

♪ yeen my daddy, bitch, i’m big mama! – capricorn sun trine aries saturn, aquarius moon trine libra mars

it’s giving dominant. like, ever since she was a kid she probably been independent and mature, since saturn (rulers of cap/aqua) rule maturity. prolly ain’t liked being told shit either. so when a nigga might start feeling himself and thinking he can boss her around. she gotta remind his ass. plus, a saturnian woman calling herself makes so much sense, as saturn rules over authoritarian figures. but patriarchy makes people think the authoritarian figure gotta be a man. when in reality, women be running shit too! so why the fuck would she let a nigga think he can boss her around or talk out his neck? the aquarius moon and libra mars also reminded me of this line because moon-mars women tend to be a bit controlling or dominant in how they present themselves.

♪ every time y’all book me with them hoes, it’s gon’ be big drama

♪ twenty black suburbans, we pull up like sunday service

♪ i just want a one-on-one, don’t know why she so nervous – sagittarius mercury conjunct sagittarius pluto, aquarius moon conjunct aquarius uranus and trine libra mars

again, the directness is the sag mercury conjunct pluto. but also, her wanting to address conflicts personally (without groupies or people ‘picking sides’) sounds so aquarius / saturn. like fuck the noise, this between me and you. so if we gon do it, we might as well do it type shit.

♪ fuck what these hoes saying, ‘cuz my nigga say i’m perfect!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Flo Milli ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

since a jitt, thought i was grown. i’an never watch my tone – capricorn sun conjunct capricorn mercury. aquarius moon.

the most saturnian thing ever is thinking you was grown as a kid. and this go hand-in-hand with what i was saying about latto. while a saturnian mercury might usually not be the one to speak, her mercury is conjunct the sun, and when there’s solar influence over mercury, the native expresses themselves strongly and with a lot of vitality. and their ability to communicate is tightly intertwined with their ego. tell her to not speak, you telling her to compromise her spirit. and that will not do!

♪ i would cry over these niggas, but a bitch never alone - pisces mars square sagittarius venus

jovial energy over venus or mars indicates someone who has many romantic suitors. it also can show someone is a bit disposable with the people they fuck with, so while she could boo-hoo, why would she? there’s always another nigga. and whatever qualities you miss can be found in someone else. not saying people literally are disposable, but there’s many fish in the sea. a very jovial expression, especially considering jupiter was known to fuck with manyyy women, even at his wife’s expense.

♪ wanna fight me bout some dick, ‘cuz you checking niggas’ phones. i hope that ain’t your only nigga, he ain’t never coming home – sagittarius venus conjunct sagittarius pluto.

venus can tell you about the women around you, and someone with martian or plutonic energy over venus can show that women could become obsessive or violent toward her. however, it also can show her general romantic or sexual appeal. like i said, jovial influence can show abundance in attraction but pluto being there can also show that the people attracted to her become absorbed in their attraction to her… thus he “never coming home.”

♪ ho, i’ll take over your city

♪ bitch, you pussy, you a kitty

♪ we pull up like sunday service, beat a bitch and show no pity

♪ ion sing r&b but when i ride that dick, we playing jodeci

♪ a lotta ass, but i’m petite, lil’ chocolate, i’m his favorite treat

♪ and my haitian say i’m perfect, try me he gon’ curse you — sagittarius venus conjunct sagittarius pluto

a foreign nigga who don’t play bout you. foreigners is ruled by jupiter so with a jovial venus, the native might feel gravitated to people of different cultures. but also the loyalty/protectiveness (to the extent of cursing someone) gives venus aspecting pluto lmao.

♪ she tough online but sweet in person, where the other version?

♪ killing hoes, they riding off in hearses,

♪ why the fuck you let me meet your nigga if you know he thirsty? stupid bitch!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Megan Thee Stallion ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

♪ y’all know who the fuck it is, the most loved, the most hated — tenth house aquarius sun, aquarius sun opposite leo mars.

not much to say except it’s the most tenth house sun shit ever to just be like ‘y’all know who it is so i need no introduction.’ but it makes sense! the tenth house is the most visible point of your chart and it rules over public appearances. when your sun is here, you kind of ‘shine’ here. even if people aren’t familiar with you, they still find themselves curious about you or gravitating to you and your energy. likewise, having the sun opposing mars could have strongly polarizing opinions about you by the public. either they love to love you, hate to love you, or love to hate you. either way, the native is attracting attention. they garner as loyal haters as they do loyal lovers, especially since leo acts as the sign of loyalty and the dispositor of mars (war) is detriment in aquarius. so it can also mean loyalty against you. but also people be hating on aquarius for being ahead of everybody else.

♪ the one your nigga wish he dated

♪ real hot girl shit, aye — moon in leo conjunct mars in leo, diurnal chart, tenth house aquarius sun

in modern astrology, the tenth house is associated with capricorn but in traditional astrology, it’s actually associated with the element of fire. the sun (hot ass planet) is here. then mars (another planet associated with heat) is conjunct moon, and moon and mars are in the sign of the sun. lastly, her chart is diurnal.

♪ bitches must be tryna save the planet, recycling all my old niggas

♪ trends you think you setting, i had that shit on in my old pictures — aquarius sun in the tenth

i don’t think i have to say but i’m gon do it anyway. aquarius is the trendsetter! they start shit that other people might not really have the open mind to execute.

♪ i’m standing on business, he acting up then i’ma pivot — aquarius sun in the tenth (moon and mars in leo in the fourth), capricorn venus

with what “standing on business” means, it sounds like such a saturnian and fixed quality. so stubborn but undoubtedly gon stand ten toes on whatever. aquas are so good at being loyal to themselves too. which is why i also feel like it’s giving moon and mars in leo in the fourth, ‘cuz it’s giving she a solid ass bitch. unshakable. now, the cap venus is “he acting up then i’ma pivot” because like i said, a cap venus will happily participate in a relationship that make sense to her. but if she feel like that security being shaken, she really gon leave ‘cuz she’a be damned if a nigga try to drag her in his bullshit.

♪ what the fuck i look like trippin on one out of seven billion? — ninth house capricorn venus trine taurus ascendant

megan know she sexy, she know she desired (by many). quite literally, she got pick of the litter out of any nigga she want. and the world is filled with potential romantic partners. this go with what i was saying about latto — why would she hold herself back with a nigga who not doing what he need to do when she could just… find the person she want?

♪ i meet the goalpost when it’s moving, they say i can’t, then i do it — tenth house aquarius sun, moon and mars in leo

very motivated and a bit competitive but only really competing with herself. she wanna push herself to be the best version of herself she could be.

♪ your favorite rapper might not like me, but his boo gon jam my music

♪ blue checks, big influence, chain glow like hallelujah — jupiter in sagittarius in the eighth house, tenth house aquarius sun

hallelujah is so jupiter. but also, the eighth house doesn’t just show where you may lose resources, it can show how you may gain them through inheritances or marriage. it also can show wealth obtained through contracts or legal bindings, such as a record deal. so if you play your cards right, you can gain a lot through an eighth house jupiter. i feel like a broken record with this tenth house aquarius sun, but clearly it’s a very public position in her chart (lol). having a tenth house sun can also show influence over your surroundings, as the sun is the body centered in our solar system and has a hold on us through its gravity.

♪ i see you barking for my attention, i’ll never throw the bone to ya’ — saturnian influence & fourth house mars.

like i said, saturnians’ cut off game is ridiculous. they are after all ruled by the planet of detachment, being the most distanced from the sun (in traditional). so for this reason, i think they’re really good at ignoring shit. they know how to not give shit any of their attention. this could work against them (ie neglectfulness) but it can also work for them when people trying to get a reaction or rise from them and they are able to detach themselves from the emotions of the situation. likewise, since her mars is in the most private/invisible house in her chart, it’ll take a lot to get that rise out of her.

♪ ass on texas, niggas wanna hold it — ninth house capricorn venus

this just a old theory i had about ninth house venuses having fat booties or at least booties that are public statements for them. by far, it’s a confirmed theory.

♪ player face card, bitch, you know i ain’t folding — taurus ascendant

i feel like this one is self explanatory, but being that she’s venus ruled, and venus is beauty, she just saying that face card ain’t nothing to play with.

♪ baddie, make a hoe mad like rollie — aquarius sun opposite leo mars

people with martian influence over a prominent planet (especially the sun) can arouse anger in others, even for seemingly small reasons. their existences can almost “provoke” people. which is why it’s perfect megan has that saturnian and airy influence to keep her from reacting because really i could see her just cracking up at people being so passionately enraged by her when she just chilling.

♪ diamonds get tested, we see who the coldest

♪ these bitches tryna be funny, they joking

♪ everything megan put out, i own it — second house in gemini; lord in the tenth house conjunct midheaven

since the second house is the house of assets we own, and the tenth house is our career and legacy… second house lord in the tenth is really giving owning her own masters and it being in aquarius is giving independent artist. love it actually.

♪ i don’t care who you think hotter than me, ain’t a bitch stepped i ain’t smoking — aquarius sun opposite leo mars, leo moon conjunct leo mars

she really bout that shit and she can handle herself. and that aquarius sun shows the self-sustained ego. like… even if y’all feel some type of way, how she feel about herself is ultimately the highest opinion she hold on that matter.

♪ he was in my dms begging, now he in my mentions hating — leo moon & mars in the fourth house opposite aquarius sun in the tenth house, first house lilith in taurus.

remember how i said her opposition can cause deeply conflicting sentiments? well yeah, it’s basically that. the moon is in the most private house in the sign of loyalty and romance, but the sun is in the most public and its detriment. aquariuses are already publicly like… i’m not sure if hated the world? but dismissed a lot. so when it’s popular to hate on someone, people follow the leader. but also… insecure men just can’t handle saturnian/solar/martian women. for damn sure can’t handle a lilith woman — lilith is the asteroid named for the woman who basically told adam lame ass to play with his mama. ‘cuz who finna be subservient to you? all of these energies combined in her chart usually intimidate insecure men, so they lash out when rejected. mad they can’t fuck.

♪ that’s exactly why you bitch-ass niggas get no conversation

♪ throwing salt gon’ kill a snail, but won’t do nothing to a player

♪ all it did was make more niggas throw the coin to me like a wishing well — eighth house jupiter in sagittarius, venus in capricorn

as i said, the eighth house is the house of shared resources. so an eighth house jupiter can show your people giving you money if you connected to them. it also shows being invested in. same for the venus in cap, venus capricorn women wanna feel like a nigga investing in them. venus capricorn women can’t be with no nigga who not providing something or like she said, she gon pivot. PERIOD!

[nethhiri]

Marooned: Chapter 38

Kid x FemReader x Killer

Warning: Another all smut no plot chappie! (feat. Heat kinda; also feat. everyone's favorite: inappropriate use of devil fruit power)

Sticky Situations

It was only curiosity. You weren't a pervert. It's not your fault sound travelled easily through the walls. You were walking past Kid's cabin when some distinct noises beckoned you to press your ear against the door. Did people do this when me and Kid were...?  Maybe you should bring up the subject of sound proofing certain rooms. There was a string of groans and grunts that sounded like Kid. The other person was Killer, telling Kid to relax. Heat rose to your face listening to Kid's cursing and demands that Killer go harder. You batted your ear, as it was starting to itch. Wait. In a split second, the door opened and Kid was tugging you in by the ear with his devil fruit. 

"Tsk." Kid pointed to your ear, "Might wanna take that off if ya don't want me to know yer peeping outside the door."

Your eyebrows knit together, puzzled. "Why aren't you both naked?" Kid had his shirt off. That's it. And they didn't have time to get dressed before Kid pulled you in. 

Kid barked out a laugh. "Forward aren't we? If ya want us, all ya hafta do is ask."

"No that's not-. I thought you guys were..." You made sex gestures with your hands and moved your eyebrows up and down suggestively.

Even Killer laughed at that. "I was helping Kid get a knot out of his shoulder."

Somehow this was more embarrassing than walking in on actual sex. "I see." Now the noises made sense. "I'll see myself out."

"Not so fast." Kid pulled you by the ear again until you were in front of him. "I know yer avoiding me since Killer spilled the beans that I was gonna yell at ya." 

"Noooo." Lie. You weren't scared obviously. You really didn't want to get sucked into some kind of 'you need to be more careful' bullshit. 

"I'm not gonna yell at ya."

"You're not?" Before you knew it, you were bent over his knee. "Hang on a minute. Let's talk about this."

"We could have if ya didn't avoid me." Kid tugged at your pants until your ass was exposed. "The time fer talking is over," he said with a sinister chuckle.

You played along gladly. The last thing you wanted was a serious conversation. You couldn't stop yourself from giggling. This would be fun. Snooping had its perks.

"Fuck ya giggling about?" Kid cracked you on the ass with his metal hand, hard enough to leave a mark.

You yelped. "I love when Captain Kid is mean t'me."

Killer crouched in front of you. "Count out loud or he starts over." He tapped the chin of his mask. "How many, Kid?"

"I think 10 should do it." Kid added, "Oh and ya can't heal it either or I'm gonna do it twice as hard next time."

Smack!

"One," you still giggled. 

"I don't think you're doing it hard enough." Killer mused.

Smack!

"T-two." Your grin faltered.

Smack!

"Three." 

By the tenth spank, the bottom of your ass was cherry red. Kid's hand was so big its print took up most of the space. Tears pricked at your eyes and you yelped at him even resting his hand on the tender area. It was going to have a nice bruise tomorrow. 

"Not so funny now, is it?"

"No, Sir." He thwapped you again and you yipped. "What was that for?!"

"Fer being a little shit." 

"Eleven. You didn't count that one." Killer looked at Kid. "Looks like you gotta start over."

"Wait that one didn't count! Please don't." You gave Killer your best puppy dog eyes and turned to look at Kid to do the same. "I'll be good. I swear."

Kid tugged your pants back up and flipped you up to sit on his lap, earning a whimper from you. He grinned, "What's wrong, princess?"

"We're not fucking?" Was this not foreplay? 

"This a punishment. Fucking is a reward." Killer patted your head.

You stared at them incredulously. "You're kidding right?" They both had shit-eating grins across their faces. The real punishment was winding you up and doing nothing about it. You stood up angrily. "You wanna play this game? Fine." You were going to get them to crack before you. They wanted you to beg and you weren't going to let them have the satisfaction.

You left in a huff, nearly hitting Heat with the door as you left. You almost walked past him, turning on your heel to see his red face. You cocked your head. "Heat," you started in an accusatory tone, "what did you hear?" It was a bit hypocritical to be mad at him for being a pervert. You weren't mad. But maybe he could help you. Several thoughts went through your head: you could fuck him and get relief that way, he could help you concoct a revenge plan, possibly combine those two things in some way. You didn't want to make Kid and Killer jealous, you just wanted them to crack first. 

"N-nothing." He wouldn't meet your gaze. 

"Are you busy?" 

He straightened up, "No. Can I... help you with something?" He wasn't going to say no to a quickie.

"I need intel." 

It started with you wearing the tiny black leather shorts and the deep red corset top you had bought a while back with Heat. You knew it would drive Kid wild to see the bruising on your ass peek out from the legs of the shorts. Shorts was a strong word. They were closer to panties than shorts with the way your cheeks weren't completely covered. Heat didn't mind helping you. He would win, too, watching you slink around half-naked. You could feel Kid's eyes devour you from wherever he was. Another time, you wore a leather harness adorned with metal accents under your clothes, with panties to match. You knew Kid could sense the metal with his power and feel every curve along with your body heat. It was taking everything in him not to play with the metal bits, he knew he wouldn't be able to control himself. He was about to crack. What pushed him over the edge was the night you wore a metal butt plug and had a matching metallic egg in your pussy to dinner. Heat helped acquire the items from Kid's personal collection. Kid could feel every time you clenched to keep the egg from falling out and every time you squirmed for friction. He had broken out in a sweat on his forehead.

Kid was vulnerable to the obvious things. Killer was more difficult because his expressions were hidden and you couldn't tell if it was working. In the mornings you would ask if he needed to check and make sure you didn't heal the bruises. You took one of the shirts he had let you borrow and made it into a skin tight babydoll crop top with your fruit. You wore that, sans bra, and some little jean shorts once to help him in the kitchen, "accidentally" brushing against him whenever the opportunity arose. Another time, you enjoyed a popsicle when you were sunning yourself on deck while he happened to be at the helm. You about caused him to have a heart attack when one afternoon he came to prep dinner and found you sitting on the counter in a tiny skirt, legs parted just enough that he could see you didn't have panties on. What really got to him, was at the same diner that had Kid sweating, you sat across from him and rubbed at the crotch of his jeans with your feet. Heat let you in on a few fantasies that Killer had. 

What did Heat get out of it? Well, you let him know when the plan was going into action so he could watch, using your fruit to make a tiny peephole in the wall across from Kid's bed. 

Once you knew you had them, you excused yourself and let yourself into Kid's cabin. The smirk never left your face as you ran into Kid's closet to get one of his old feather coats. You were going to strip in the closet but wanted to pay Heat back appropriately. You donned Kid's coat and laid on his bed. You didn't have to wait long, as the door flew open and Kid stepped in with his first mate close behind. You didn't miss the way Kid's eyes widened slightly when he caught sight of his coat. 

"What the hell do ya think yer doing?"

"I don't know what you mean."

Kid grabbed your chin. "Ya know exactly what I mean, doll." 

You hummed with a smirk on your face, rolling on your back so the coat fell open.

Killer made a noise of appreciation before stripping his shirt and sliding behind you with his legs caging you in.

You almost regretted wearing Kid's coat because otherwise you would have been able to lean into Killer's bare chest. Still, you let your head rest on his shoulder, arching your back to push yourself up high enough to put your lips to his neck. The rough skin of his hands running down your body gave you goosebumps. They stopped to knead at your breasts, your hips, your thighs. It was clear Killer had a penchant for the fleshier parts of your body. Small moans left your lips as you pressed them against the skin of his neck, every so often giving him a nip. He moved your legs to rest on the outside of his, spreading you wide open. A thick finger circled your entrance, making you whine. 

Kid sat at the foot of the bed, sans clothing, lazily stroking himself and watching Killer play you like a fiddle, using his powers to alternate moving the egg and plug around. Fuck you looked so good wide open, pussy glistening and Killer had barely touched you. He wasn't going to give in to your teasing until he saw you laid out in his coat. There was no way he could let that image go to waste. As soon as Killer was done finger fucking you, he was going to dive in face first. Kid didn't understand how Killer held out this long without fucking you proper, but if you had taunted him as well as you taunted Kid, he was probably close to giving in.

Killer could feel his dick throb in his jeans, leaking precum. Every time he felt your cunt clench against his fingers, his cock strained against its confines. He could feel you squirm more and more against him as he worked a second and third finger in. The hand that wasn't occupied was lightly closed around your throat. He liked listening to the way your moans get raspier when he added pressure. 

"Killer... please." You rolled your hips into his hand, pressing your clit harder into his thumb. "M'close."

"Go ahead. Cum on my fingers. Cum so your captain can watch." 

The low voice in your ear and the breath ghosting the skin of your neck sent you crashing over the edge. "Oh f-uck, Kill-er." He held your legs open as they threatened to squeeze together. You twitched as he pulled his fingers back, opening your mouth so you could suck the juices from them. You whined when they didn't come, looking down to see Kid cleaning them off instead, leaving red stains at the base of Killer's fingers. You hadn't even felt him climb up the bed. 

Kid yanked you down a little so he could wrap his arms underneath your legs. "M'gonna wear this pussy like an oxygen mask," he said, more or less talking to himself. For a moment he took the time to appreciate the pink, glistening folds before him, engorged with the increased blood flow and the base of the plug snugly nestled between your cheeks. Then he went to work, groaning as the taste of your arousal hit his tongue. He wasn't kidding. Kid buried his face in your sex, dipping his tongue as deep as it would go, greedily lapping up the juices that spilled when you came. He moved the metallic egg in time with his rhythm, driving you insane. It made his cock hurt how badly he wanted to bury in your walls.

Your head rested on Killer's chest so you had a good view. It was a good thing Kid had you locked in place with his grip because you would be writhing all over the place with how intense the actions of his tongue and the use of his powers were. Every time you jerked away, he gave you a noise of displeasure, kind of a weak growl. The only time he withdrew his tongue was to bully your clit with it, making you buck when he grazed his teeth against it. Your previous orgasm made you incredibly sensitive, and he had you on the edge again already.

Killer was throughly enjoying how much you were enjoying yourself as he played with your breasts. He could tell by the way your breaths caught in your throat and the near incessant noises you were making, that you were close again. "Kid, she's gonna cum. Poor thing can't even form the words to tell you." 

You whined, but he was right. It was embarrassing how quickly you melted for them. The wave of tingling heat overcame you almost immediately after he said that. You felt a brief flood of wetness and heard sloppy sounds as Kid worked you through your orgasm. You panted hard and opened your eyes. You saw Kid put his googles back on his forehead, apparently having moved them down at some point. 

Kid saw you looking, "What? I was in the splash zone."

"I can't fucking stand you." You laughed. 

"Hah?! What was that?" Kid tugged you right out of his coat, flipping you onto your stomach. He teased the butt plug and egg in and out a few times, before removing the egg completely and putting the plug firmly back in its place, earning a squeak from you. "Tsk, wee mouse is overstimulated, is she?"

Killer tossed the coat aside and scooted further down the bed. He grabbed you and laid back flat, so your chests were flush. Then you felt Kid on top of you. His weight sandwiching you against Killer was making you wild. If only Killer would take his pants off, it would be perfect. Kid hiked one of your legs up, burying himself in you. You both groaned at the feeling. 

"I can still feel ya twitching on my cock, dirty lass," Kid teased. "Tell Killer how good I make ya feel. Maybe he'll finally let ya have it." 

You buried your face in Killer's neck, moaning, as Kid started to fuck you. "Feels so good to be f-fucked by a big c-cock." You attacked the other side of Killer's neck so that he would marks to match the ones you had left earlier, taking breaks to moan dirty things in his ear. "Don't you w-wanna stretch me out, too?" You rubbed your hand against the hardness in his jeans. "Please. Please let me." You moaned louder briefly at a particularly hard thrust from Kid. "I love w-hen Cap'n makes me cum all over his c-cock." Even your own dirty words were affecting you. "Let me c-um on your cock, K-Killer." After that, you couldn't form any more sentences. Kid's brutal thrusts had you screaming into Killer's shoulder. 

You felt Killer grab your wrist and guide your hand to his length, which at some point, had been partially freed. It was still within his underwear, though it was much more manageable when it wasn't under the tough denim. Gripping him through the fabric, you jerked him off. You could feel his girth pulse under your hand. Just thinking about having it inside you made your pussy clench. You whined in protest when Kid repositioned you, tugging your hips up and back, pushing your top half down. You couldn't wrap your hand around Killer at this angle, and with the way Kid was pounding your cervix into oblivion, at the same time playing with the plug, however you could feel Killer's erection against your stomach. Under your own cries of pleasure, you could hear soft huffs from under Killer's mask as the motions of Kid fucking you caused your stomach to rub against Killer. You felt his hips move as he rubbed himself against you even more. There was something so erotic about him so desperate to get off that he was thrusting against your stomach. That in itself caused the coil in your core to tighten, but when you heard him moan and felt his cock throb against you with a sticky sensation spreading on your skin, the coil snapped. 

This orgasm was the most powerful one of the three that they managed to give you. You shook as the pleasure took over your body, cunt gripping Kid so tightly that it forced him to his own climax. He pulled your hips tightly to him and ground his cock up into you harder. Your mixed fluids spilled onto your thighs. You could feel your walls flutter with aftershocks. Rolling  off Killer to the space next to him, you looked down at the mess on your stomach. 

"Damn, Killer," You said, looking at the mess on his own stomach to match. Kid spread your knees to look at his fine work and bent down to press his tongue into your overly sensitive clit. You jumped and he laughed at you before trailing his tongue up to lick a stripe through Killer's semen. 

Kid stood up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Ya wouldn't get so pent up like that if ya let one of us take care of ya more often." He looked like he was in thought.

You looked up at Killer. Smug with the fact that not only did you tempt him but you did it enough that he let you touch him, too.

He seemed to know what you were thinking and sat up, running a hand over your cheek. "Soon, breadcrumb." 

You were both startled when Kid banged his fist against the wall. "Heat! Ya fuckin pervert!" Kid could sense the various metals that made up his outfit, caught the same way he caught you. He touched the small peephole. Kid squinted. "What's this?" He immediately rounded on you. "Yer a sneaky one. Now I get it." 

Killer cocked his head to the side, intrigued by Kid's outburst. 

Kid continued, "Yer working with Heat!" He looked at Killer. "Heat was helping her behind the scenes and she made it easier for him to watch in exchange!" Kid laughed darkly. "So that's how ya got yer hands on this," Kid used his magnetism to move the butt plug, getting you to yelp again. Kid nodded, clearly thinking about what to do with this information. He looked at you. "Ya wanna wear it so bad? Ya can keep it in until I tell ya to take it out." 

It turned out, Kid had Heat in the same situation as you. Realizing it when you both paused at the same moments during the day when Kid decided to fuck with you, trying to contain twitches and moans. Or at meal times when you both jumped in your seat. One particularly good moment, which Kid was quite proud of, was when he made you and Heat spar, playing with both of you while you fought. He could tell you both went off somewhere together afterwards, probably to relieve each other. He released you from the punishment after that, satisfied with the show he got. 

Next Chapter

[willowser]

okay haven't stopped thinking about this since the self-ship game but. on-again-off-again with touya is so heart-breaking.

he's always had his own shitty one-bedroom, but he stayed with you more often than not. claimed it was because you were closer to his job at the bar, but the drive is similar if not a smidge closer. you don't personally think it's worth it, but he does. or did, once.

you're looking at the two boxes of his things that are sitting by the door: a near-drawer full of clothes, bags of random jewelry, two pairs of his shoes, the dish towels he keeps "accidentally" stealing from work, as well as a few of their nicer glasses. photos you don't want to look at. even his shampoo and body-wash is packed away, because you can't stand to smell it anymore.

that's when your phone rings.

it's much too late for you to be awake, but you are, and the number coming across your screen isn't necessarily touya's but it is the number for the bar, so you hesitate in answering. watching and waiting, as it rings in your hand, before deciding to indulge in whatever heart-break he's got ready for you tonight.

—but it's keigo: "hey, i need you to come pick up touya."

you frown at that, and then deeper at the noise in the background. "what? where's his car?"

"he—" a heavy sigh scratches over the line, and his voice is strained, like he's struggling to hold something heavy in his arms. he's always been very friendly, charming; you've never heard him so stressed. "he can't drive. i just need you to come get him."

worry is a weighted stone in your stomach. "what do you mean he can't drive?"

touya's been sober for 16 months, something he's admittedly been very proud of. his longest stint yet, he'll tell you, and he's gone through hell not to break the streak. no matter how hard it was, no matter how tempting giving in sounded. he's turned back into his addictions in the past when you two have split, but you had faith in him this time. you really, really did.

"he just can't, alright? please?"

of course you go. and when you pull up in the parking lot, they're both standing outside, keigo with a half-empty bottle of water in his hands and a frown marring his pretty face. touya's back is to you, and he would almost look normal, if not for the swaying. you don't realize how bad it is until takami is throwing touya's arm over his shoulder and near dragging him across the pavement.

you only watch on, heart heavy, as he's shuffled into your car like a child, mumbling to himself as keigo buckles his searbelt. the car is immediately flooded with the sharp, bitter smell of alcohol and too many cigarettes, and you knew what the truth was, you knew, but you'd hoped for another answer, some bullshit excuse as to why he couldn't drive.

the reality burns; behind your eyes, deep in your nose, the back of your throat.

"call me tomorrow," keigo tells him, too-serious. "and we can figure out your car and stuff." he huffs at the ghost of a smile on touya's pale face, before looking across the seats to you. "i'm sorry, i really am, but his sister would fucking flip if i called her."

"no," touya mumbles again, voice scratchy like he's been yelling. "why the fuck would you call my sister, you perv?"

keigo only shakes his head before sighing again, and then he's leaning back and closing the car door without another word. you've never seen him so—annoyed; you can only imagine what touya's been up to tonight, to make him so.

alone, neither of you say anything, for a while. that haunting smile is still playing on his lips, as his head lolls back and forth with every speed bump you crawl over, and occasionally you can feel him watching you from across the console.

there are—one-thousand and one things you could say, but he wouldn't remember a single one. and so you don't bother.

he does, though, eventually, grin blooming in full. "know you fuckin' miss me."

you shake your head in an attempt to get rid of the tears, swallowing the frog sitting in your throat. he won't remember this. he won't. "of course i miss you, touya."

he laughs once, a small, airy sound, before he's turning to look out the window. your honesty has always caught him off guard. "yeah," he murmurs, smile drooping as reality burns him, in return. "miss you, too."

[slaytheprofessor]

"Oh, is there going to be a test?" you say innocently, batting your eyes as your Rebel's enthusiasm begins to take you over. "What's it on? History? Biology? Should I be breaking out my Algebra knowledge?"

The Professor (Blank): You are well aware what this test is about.

The Professor (Zany): No, no, no, we can do a guessing game! Here, you try and guess what the test's about, and if you guess wrong, I'll do a buzzer noise, but if you guess right---

The Guide: The professor splits again.

The Guide: This one has heavy bags under his eyes, ratted hair, and a wholly unsettling grin. As he examines you, you feel a jolt of pure, cold fear.

The Professor (Cruel): Come now, my dear, let's not play around, shall we? I see the knife that you're failing to hide.

Voice of the Researcher: Well, shit.

The Professor (Cruel): *laughs, high-pitched and for a full minute* Decided to push your rebellious streak to its limit, have you? What do you say about that?

The Professor (Strict): Oh, suspension for sure, for bringing a weapon to school. Perhaps even expulsion.

The Professor (Zany): *nervous* Hang on, now, I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for this. Have you been having some trouble at home? Maybe you've been getting bullied a little?

The Professor (Strict): Or fallen in with the wrong crowd---

The Professor (Sad): Who even cares? I can confiscate it if it means that much to you, but you'll probably figure out a way to get it back.

The Professor (Cruel): Maybe I'll lock you in the supply closet so you can't get it back. The janitor will likely find you during his rounds.

Voice of the Rebel: Uh... I don't think I like this one?

Voice of the Researcher: Look, we need to nip this in the bud, now. We're not asking him any more questions, and we're not entertaining this classroom bullshit.

Voice of the Rebel: But---*anxious little laugh* H-hang on, let's think about this! There's gotta be a way to figure this out, right? I don't think we've hit the limit yet---

The Guide: I agree with her.

Voice of the Rebel: Yeah, of course you agree with her! Of course you don't want to listen to me! Never mind that I'm the one here who sees through your bullshit!

The Guide: What do you mean?

Voice of the Rebel: *harsh laugh* Come on, asshole, you can't tell us what's going on because this place is keeping your mouth shut? That's the flimsiest fucking excuse I've ever heard! You're just keeping us in the dark for kicks at best, and at worst, it's because you don't want to admit that you're making us into the villain here!

The Guide: I am not! I never have! If you knew what he did---

Voice of the Rebel: And what did he do?! This fucking beanpole of a man whose brain is so fucked up that he can't even comprehend that he's a prisoner? How is he the danger here, and not the freaky voice in our head?!

Voice of the Researcher: Hey, we're also freaky voices in her head---

Voice of the Rebel: Well, he's different, isn't he?

Voice of the Researcher: I don't think he is! And I'm not too jazzed about killing the professor, even when he's like this, but at least I'm not doing stupid shit in the name of pissing the only person here who's trying to help us off!

Voice of the Rebel: Fuck you. *voice breaks* FUCK you both.

The Guide: Like it or not, you have to make a decision now. For all of us.

Voice of the Researcher: Just do what you feel like you have to. Don't listen to any of us. Go with your gut.

The Guide: And hopefully... hopefully, this will fix itself.

The Guide: *softer* Rebel? Are---

Voice of the Rebel: *voice thick with emotion* She can do whatever the hell she wants.

[thetrashbinseries]

— Fahrenheit ( bangchan x reader )

rated - mature | minors dni

parts - one, two (explicit)

warnings - idol universe, name changed idols, mature themes, drug use, alcohol use, sexual themes, mentions of mental illness, slight angst

x x x

“It’s not rocket science, Chris."

My annoyance hits the roof. What the hell is his problem? Why's he turning this into a damn soap opera?

"You're back in LA. New York—yes or no?"

Chris tiptoes the line ever since last year's scandal close shave. I get playing it safe, but I'm alone in a six-bedroom Jersey fortress. In the U.S. media game, I'm golden. No cancel threats, not yet in my rising career.

But the spotlight got hotter after the last single went viral. Chris, in the crosshairs of relentless management, dances a careful routine.

He's the big shot, leader of the world's hottest K-pop group. His company would shoot themselves in the foot by axing him. Yet, Mr. Libra doesn't dig rocking the boat.

"-I want to, babe, but it's too risky right now."

I sigh. Twisting my computer chair, neon lights bathe me in purples and reds. I'm in the studio, bullshitting on songs for the third album.

I've had it. "Catch you later, Chris." The call drops, facedown on the desk, anger swirling.

"Seriously, fuck you." I spit out, taking it personally.

Being a foreigner feels like the snag. His industry would call me a disgrace tagging along.

I don't need that energy.

Am I settling as his 'little secret'? I'm 29, he's 27 – grown folks. Pings remind me of him, but I silence the noise. Facetime interrupts, Jake, the friend with benefits. Games or busy, no time for emotional plays.

Warner signed my band, deep in commitments, mind racing. A shrink's gift? Adderall for my ADHD.

Now, even less time for the BS.

"Hey, daddy." I purr, thickening my accent.

Jake’s smile fades as he eyes me. "What?" I giggle,

"Stop playing with me like that, y/n."

"How am I playing with you?"

"You're gonna end up with your legs cocked back like last time, girl, cool it."

Laughter ensues. I glimpse his background – a parking garage stairwell. We catch up every couple of weeks via Facetime.

"Where are you at?" I squint.

"Recognize it?" Jake turns his phone, revealing the New York City skyline.

"You're out here? Aw, shit." I lean back in my chair, a half-cocked grin, tongue behind my lower lip.

"Aw, shit is right! What's up? What are you up to tonight?"

I chuckle, rolling my eyes. "Nah, uh, Jake. We gotta play nice. I got a good thing going on right now."

He sighs, exasperation audible. "You two still a thing? Thought you were photographed over there, outside the JYPE building?"

"I was."

"They ain't letting that fly, you serious, y/n?"

"I mean, they're being hard on him, but we're still trying to make it work." I express more hope than Chris does. Jake’s viewpoint is valid – he's been through the K-pop circuit, burned out, went solo, and found massive international success.

Which is why he bitches about it.

It's unfair.

"I do wanna see you, though," I admit, the need for an adventure kicking in.

"That's my girl. Hey, I'm about to hop in the car. Should be able to make it over in twenty. You at your spot in Jersey?"

"Yes, I am, Jake, but don't come in on no bullshit."

"I'm always on bullshit. See you in twenty."

Jake hangs up before I can fight back.

Why is my grin so wide? I roll my eyes at my own excitement, surprised at how genuinely thrilled I am to be around someone who wants to be with me. Scanning Chris's messages puts me in a better mood.

babydaddy: there’s no way you just hung up like that -_-

babydaddy: this is my life…my career…

babydaddy: why can't you be more patient?? this is hard for me too…

babydaddy: we need to talk tomorrow…

babydaddy: about us, and where this is going.

The last message triggers something in me. My stomach twists like it always does before bad news. It doesn't change, whether in poverty in my hometown or a small Jersey mansion. The same sunken gut reaction. We've been going back and forth, but this sounds... final. At some point, he'll grow sick of it. I know I have.

Yet, there's so much I love about Chris. Selfishly, I don't want him with anyone else. He's the man of my dreams, flawed as he is, he’s human. My human. I panic, feeling like my boat has sprung a leak, desperate to plug it somehow.

Knowing myself, I turn my phone upside down, placing it on my desk and stand up, distancing myself from the setting. Something else would trap me; all I want is not to reply to him with charged emotion. It wouldn't help anything.

Jake’s on his way over.

I take a deep breath, letting my anxiety settle. I'll talk to him; he always has good insight and wisdom beyond his years. I look at myself in the mirror. I'm in comfy mode, barefoot, walking across hardwood floors.

Entering the dimly lit kitchen, I brew hot chocolate, curling my toes against the balls of my feet, cracking knuckles as I chew my lower lip, mind drifting to Chris. Resistance is weaker now; the reasons to text back sound more convincing. I shake my head, trying to clear my mind, grab my cup, and sip as I walk past my bearded dragon's tank. It's late; he's asleep, tucked into his pink bed. I stare at each plant, trying to keep my thoughts in check.

My outdoor motion detection buzzes the smartwatch on my wrist, signaling someone's arrival. I glimpse headlights through my foyer. My grin widens; I bite my lip, urging myself to behave.

"Alexa, shuffle my evening playlist on Spotify, downstairs."

The nearest speaker obeys, filling the space with music. My dog scurries around my feet as the doorbell rings, and my bigger dog's deep barks echo throughout the house.

“Hey, cool it!" I shout at them, stepping over the little one weaving through my legs, nipping my ankles for some ungodly reason. I open the door, visibly exasperated, while my larger dog bellows from the top of the stairs.

Jake points to her behind me, furrowing his brows dramatically. "I thought we were friends!"

My dog hurls another final, loud bark before slowly making her way down the stairs. I let Jake in, lock the door, and he takes off his shoes, grabbing a disposable guest pair from the basket by the front door. I turn, starting down the hall, and Jake’s full body weight slams into me from behind, arms wrapping around my body, causing me to stumble. Seemingly unpredictably, he stops us from falling while laughing. I catch my footing, give him a firm shove, swipe stray hair behind my ear, and correct the other side, giving him a side-eye.

"Now, you know damn well I'm too clumsy for some stupid shit like that," I scoff, turning into the living room. I walk over to the glass coffee table near the sofa, grab the nearby gold electric candle lighter, tip it into the wide, three-wick candle, and light each of their blackened tips. The scents of apple-cinnamon, cedar, sandalwood, and vanilla fill the room, complemented by the warm orange glow of well-placed LED lights. I sit on the edge of the sofa, and Jake takes his favorite spot on the oversized black beanbag chair nearby. He pulls his hood off, followed by his knitted beanie, ruffling his dark brown hair.

I've got to say, Jake is a handsome guy, no doubt about it.

But I've got problems, and I've caught heavy feelings for one of my biggest headaches lately—Christopher Bang.

We're in this so deep, at least on my end.

I start to think a little harder, trying to see beyond the rose colored glasses for a moment. His text plays through my head as I scroll on my phone, my excuse being searching for another song to skip to on Spotify. But, of course, I get back to the messages Chris sent earlier.

"About us, and where this is going…"

We'd never had an official conversation about being exclusive. We met by chance, fell for each other, and started sneaking around together. I consider Chris my boyfriend, and I’m saved in his phone under ‘baby.' That's got to mean something, right?

The horror begins to set in—has this been a situationship this whole time? Is that why he never went public?

Anxiety creeps in.

"Yo," Jake snaps his fingers, waving his fingers. Damn, I must've been really distracted, crinkled brows as I stare into my phone, thumb tapping against the glass but not doing anything. I look up at him, raising my brows as if I had just briefly missed something he recently said.

"Hm?" I ask.

He's sitting up more, his left hand stroking one of my cats. "Talk to me, girl," he gestures to the marble ashtray with half of a joint, "And pass it."

I lean forward, grabbing the pink joint and placing it between my lips. I use the lighter nearby, sparking it, blowing a few times, the smoke thick and pungent, rising into the air. I tap it into the ashtray and lean over, passing it his way. Jake takes it graciously, placing it between the center of his pink lips and taking a big inhale. He holds it in, nodding, looking down at it as he blows the smoke out the side of his mouth.

"Chris and I got into it again. He told me they were coming to LA for a show over at KCON, and he was like 'maybe I can fly over to see you,' trying to fit it in, delaying his trip to Korea by like three days, which didn’t seem like a big deal. But then after everything ended, he was just hyper-aware of the attention on them and changed his mind," I begin to explain. Jake has taken a few hits during my story; he's leaning forward, passing me the joint again. I take it, hitting it.

"Did he say why?" he asks. Jake’s voice is low, even-toned. He’s invested in my story and the way I’m feeling, I can tell by the way his laser focus is on me as I speak. His eye contact is intense, fiery, the Aries in him.

"No, he didn’t, and that’s what frustrated me, so we got on a call tonight. He like—called me and was dancing around it, and I was like 'look, it’s not hard, are you coming to New York or not.' I was just... over it," I reply, pausing to take another hit before passing it to Jake once more. "He was all 'I want to, baby, but it's too risky.'” I mock his Aussie accent, and Jake can’t help the cough of smoke that comes out from trying to repress a laugh. He turns his head, full-on coughing a couple of times before he catches his breath again.

"Do you need water?" I ask, successfully holding back my own laugh. I don’t wait for his reply, instead, standing up and taking a few steps over to the mini-fridge and grabbing a bottle of spring water, handing it to him.

Plopping back down on the couch, I sigh. "So I didn’t even let him get the rest of it out. I was like 'ok, I’ll talk to you later' and like, hung up."

Jake places the burnt-out joint tip into the tray, effectively ending our puff-puff-pass session, making us both more relaxed and a little spacey. "Oof, y/n, this is... such a unique situation that very few people go through, and even fewer non-K-idols. I mean, I don’t agree with any of it, right? But it’s not me, and Chan, he’s in like–the peak of their career as a boy group, dude." Jake shakes his head, sitting back, my cat jumping from his lap, considering him having moved too much for his comfort.

"I don’t—care," I blurt.

Jake’s head drops back with a sigh before he picks it up again. "That’s probably part of the problem. Chan’s risking his career; Korea is no joke when it comes to this shit. I promise you, unless you’re physically in the industry as an idol over there, you have no idea. It’s so obsessive, and these companies, the management, they will not let you breathe, and the bigger you are—the tighter they hold onto you because there’s so much more to lose at that point."

He only leaves a half second of pause before he says, "I don’t think you’re compatible with—nor do you deserve, that kind of relationship with anyone."

Ouch.

It hurts that much more because—he’s right

"Now that doesn’t make Chan a bad person, or you a weak person. He’s got a right to this life he’s worked super hard to get to, and you’ve got a right to someone to love you the way you want to be loved, especially while you’re in the beginning stage of becoming great yourself. It’s a huge distraction—maybe not a relationship, but like, that kind of relationship."

I can do nothing but sigh, throwing my hands up and sitting back onto the couch, feeling, well, defeated. Can you blame me? It fucking sucks, the reality of it all that I was trying to avoid.

"Fuck," I finally say aloud.

Jake’s looking at me; I know he feels bad for breaking it down so plain, but he does it because he cares about me and wants the best for me, and I know that. “You still do what you want; it’s your life. Whatever you two decide is what you two decide, but that’s just—my limited experience.”

I scoff with a roll of my eyes, “Limited experience. Yeah ok.”

He laughs.

We both understand the subtext of the brief exchange.

“He says we need to talk tomorrow, about us and ‘where this is going’,” I say with air quotes.

“I mean, hey, it’s an opportunity to get your concerns out there, listen to his, and decide what’s best for you. He’ll decide what’s best for him. If that’s being together, great, if not, great. Either way, you’ll be ok. That’s how I like to see these kinds of things.” Jake says, his words profound and his perspective valuable to me. He leans forward, “We’ve known each other like what? Almost a year now?” I nod to confirm, and he continues, “In that short period of time, I can just—tell that you’re a strong person; you wouldn’t have gotten this far if you weren’t. If you ever need someone to talk to, my line is always open.”

I let another long breath go before laying across the sofa on my stomach, bringing myself closer to Jake as I lazily hug a pillow, resting my chin atop it. His advice is logged in my thoughts. I really don’t want to talk about it anymore—the way he phrased it did something to lower my anxiety so I was going to let sleeping dogs lie. “What about you, huh? What’s got you on the East Coast? You’re never over here, rarely in America anymore for real.”

“Yeah, I’ve been—busy, but it’s a blessing, you know? I’m so grateful that so many people support me, as a solo artist, doing my own thing, my way.” Jake never fails to acknowledge those around him that have supported him, and keeps himself grounded and humble somehow through being an international celebrity. “But I was at the Versace show over in Soho. I’ve got a couple of other shows to see for New York Fashion Week, but I touched down and had to come see you.”

I lift a brow. “I’m not gonna fuck you, Jake.”

Without hesitation, he fires back, “I’m not asking you to, y/n.”

It’s enough to drag a snort from me.

He laughs, “The hotels get lonely, and most places I go, I don’t know anyone. I like it here; you’ve done a lot since the last time I was here.” Jake looks around at the decor. He points to a painting of a cat skeleton on a black canvas. “That’s new, I like it.” He says.

“Yeah? I do too; it’s simple but it matches the vibe of the space, I found it by accident one day.”

When Jake says the hotels are lonely, I believe him. He often confides in me about how lonely his lifestyle can be and how it can drive him so crazy that he’ll call everyone through his phone until someone answers, and when that person hangs up, he’ll keep going. More often than not, he doesn’t have anyone to call, despite my insisting that I was an option. Some nights, when it gets really bad, he’ll have a tendency towards drinking, which is something I don’t like, and we’ve talked about ad nauseam. Of course, he’s always welcome in my safe spaces.

“So what’s new with the band? When you texted me the other day, you had like, tons of shit going on that you were freaking out about.” Jake cracks open the bottle of water, taking a gulp.

“I’m flying out to LA next week for a couple of events, but we’re like focused on album three right now; I’ve been locked in the studio just writing.”

“Ok, ok, you got anything for me to hear yet?” He seems to perk up to ask this question.

“Eh, nothing I’m ready to show or anything, just fragments of songs right now. The label is really pushing the work we did with album two to build the hype up for album three, and that’s the one they funded.” I kick my feet slowly in the air behind me as I talk.

“We should do a song together.” Jake says, quite suddenly. He can tell I’m taken aback. I mean, creatively, Jake and I get along great, but we had never discussed merging on a record before. “An official song, I think it could sound incredible.”

I immediately want to agree, of course, but I have a couple of hurdles I know I need to jump now that I’ve gotten to this point in my career. I hated that. I used to be able to agree to a collaboration immediately. But Jake had even more hoops to jump through; he couldn’t commit to something official now either.

So why was he proposing it?

“I gotta ask the label—”

“Fuck the label, dude.” Jake waves his hand, “They don’t have to know anything, not yet. We’ll just work together and see what happens. Whaddya say?”

It takes no thought for me to reply,

“Let’s do it.”

—

Jake wore me down enough to bring him down into the studio, insisting he didn't have anything important to do until tomorrow evening. I don't want to encourage his drinking, but when he spots the whiskey decanter, he gestures to it as I sit down in the main chair in front of the soundboard.

"What’s in there? Hennessy?" He answers his own question as I spin around in the chair to see what he’s talking about. He’s already over at the mini bar, opening it up and whiffing.

"Yeah, but I rarely drink it. I got it for guests." I turn towards my soundboard again, powering it up and waiting for the two large screens to load. I add another thought to the end of my sentence, albeit, to myself. Not like I have guests anyway.

Jake comes over with a glass, the brown liquor sloshing around as he tilts it in my direction. I roll my eyes, taking it, and he’s already got his glass, which he holds out for a toast.

"To the music," Jake says.

"The music." I oblige, clinking his glass and taking my gulp down a lot less gracefully than he does his, before he pours up another for himself. "Don’t overdo it; you’re gonna have a nasty hangover, and I won’t be the one to blame for it." I press a few buttons, and the house lights lower, back to the blue and purple hue I was sitting in earlier.

"I am a grown man that knows my limits." Jake states, matter-of-factly. He sits in the rolling chair at the table alongside me, pulling himself up to the soundboard and sitting back in his chair, sipping his drink as his eyes dance across the screens while I click around, pulling up my digital audio workstation of choice.

I point to the keyboard nearest to him, "Press a key for me?" He does, confirming it's connected and functional, the note ringing out through the monitors.

"Aw yeah." Jake sits up, setting his glass down on the designated cupholder space on the edge of the mixing table as he places both hands on the keys, beginning to fiddle with the limited random keys and chords he had learned how to play while being forced to learn as a trainee. "Damn, it’s been so long." He says, a half smile on his face. I can tell he’s reminiscing, I just can’t tell if it’s good or bad. "You’re so lucky to have control over your music, you know that?" He says, looking over at me before focusing back on the instrument again, slender fingers of his right hand climbing up the keys.

"I don’t really have total control, not anymore. Not sure I ever did." I say with a sigh. "It’s always been like—an Eli and me thing, not just a ‘me’ thing. I just get a little more attention because I’m the one out front, singing." I continue to explain. Jake’s stopped playing, instead choosing to lean in his chair and eye me over the top of his glass as he sips, listening to me with an empathetic nod. "Now with a major label involved, there are so many other factors now."

"You get the final say though, right?"

"Well, yeah, I guess I do." I say with uncertainty, not because it isn’t true, but because it still feels like the decisions I make have to be based on what everyone else thinks is best for us. If I vehemently object, I’m persuaded down to the decisions of others. Sometimes, it feels like I’m being gaslit. But I don’t have much time to ruminate on that, since everything is moving forward at top speed.

"Guess it’s complicated?" Jake concedes.

I nod.

"Girl, you got it," Jake croons in his gruff voice, eyes closed, fingers snapping to start a rhythm. "And I know it, baby, why don’t you?”

I nod, sliding him away from the keys as I hit some chords to match his singing. Unsure if it's a freestyle or something pre-written, I catch the composition unfolding. Music flows through me effortlessly—my natural talent that's brought me this far. It didn't happen overnight, but creating is the part of music that feels like pure joy, a distraction from all the BS.

Soon, we're vibing out a hook, laughing for hours, blending funk with '90s groove, a nostalgic fusion. My phone rings, freezing me in place. The weight of unresolved problems crashes over me. Jake senses it; I bolt before he protests. His eyes speak understanding; he knows when to let me deal with my demons. I answer the phone, attempting to steady my voice.

“Hello?”

“You answered.”

It’s Chris.

His voice is tired, ironic, as if he couldn’t believe it himself but didn’t care.

It irritates me. Why call back so soon if compromise isn't on the table?

“I just called to say, that I’ll be there in about four hours.”

A lump forms in my throat; I glance around for a clock. Holed up in the studio with Jake, time escaped me.

“But you said—“

‘First class, you are now welcome to pre-board flight 917 to Newark, First class, you are now welcome to pre-board flight 917 to Newark.’

“I gotta go, but I’ll see you in a few, yeah?”

“Y-yeah.”

The phone beeps, leaving me in stunned silence. The studio's muted song hums in the background. I'm not ready to face it yet, still figuring out what this sudden visit means.

“Said I wouldn’t do this.” I mutter, pressing my fists against my forehead, heaving a frustrated sigh. I vowed not to let another man stir my emotions, yet here I am—almost having a meltdown. But my feelings are valid. No explanation after a heated argument, and suddenly he's on his way here?

Maybe he got another perspective from the members or his friends. Maybe he thought about it. Either way, he'll be here in four hours. We can hash it out then.

I muster the calm to return to the studio. Jake sits back, his chair turning towards me. “Well?”

I plop onto the nearby sofa. “He’s boarding a flight here now, said he’ll be here in four hours.”

Jake’s brows lift in surprise. “See? I told you…this was going to push you two in some direction it needed to go. Four hours? My man, okay BangChan!” Jake laughs, toasting with his glass. “So I added some drums, check it out.” He plays the track; the groove multiplies.

“You added that part too?” I notice another musical flair, and he nods proudly. After a few seconds, he turns it off, a slow fade of the volume knob.

“I think that’s enough for me to work with for now, what do you think?”

"The skeleton is definitely there, but what about more instruments?" I question. Jake pushes his chair back, picks up his hoodie, slipping it on as he stands up.

“It’s enough to write to; we can come back to it; if Chan’s on his way here, the last thing he needs is to see another guy here late night.” He slips on his shades, his phone reflected in them as he orders an Uber Black. I didn't think he cared like this, feeling closer to him; he did what he felt was best. I was freaking out about how to get him out in time, and Jake took the initiative.

A relieved sigh escapes me. “I owe you.”

“Absolutely nothing. You don’t owe me anything, sweetheart. I had a good time here tonight.” He tucks his phone in his jacket pocket. “Twelve minutes.”

I nod. “Follow me upstairs, I made some cookies yesterday; you can take some with you.”

“Ooh what kind?”

“Chocolate chip.”

“A classic.”

[graymanshoots]

See you later

MW3 spoilers read at your own risk!!!!!

Warnings: Heavy Angst, possible military inaccuracies, mwIII spoilers, spoilers, no comfort, They have a son, mitski is the recommended artist to listen to when reading this which should be warning enough.

This is pretty short but I wanted to write something.

Another warning for spoilers just in case you missed the first 3.

"Just another job bonnie and then a’ll be back with ye and the wee one, yeah?" Johnny looked into your eyes, his heart aching at the pain he caused you from leaving.

"You promise?" Your voice shaky as your hands grip his shirt tightly.

Johnny's hands cupped your cheeks gently, wiping away any tears that escaped past your waterline.

He presses a gentle kiss to your lips before resting his forehead against yours. "Promise."

Despite his promise the night before, the tears wouldn't stop when it was finally time for him to go. Your toddler son gurgling absentmindedly, unknowing to why his mother was so tearful.

Standing by the door with your husband's coat in hand, you watch him say his goodbyes to his child.

The sight of him making silly animal noises while playing with the 2-year-old that already looked so much like him, making it hard to keep it together.

It was harder every time he left.

When the boy got tired of playing farm, he crawled off towards his blocks, leaving his father to play on his own.

Johnny lets out a chuckle before standing up and making his way over to you.

A lighthearted smile planted on his handsome face.

“Yer so, so gorgeous, Bonnie," he says, grabbing your hand, pulling you towards him.

You automatically wrap your arms around him, your damp face wetting the front of his shirt.

Johnny's arm comes around your waist while his other hand smooths over the nape of your neck.

"Am gunna miss ye so fuckin' much," he sighs, holding you tighter.

You feel yourself relax in his hold, but the moment is swiftly ruined by the beep of his watch.

"I really don't want you to go," you mutter, knowing that he had no choice in the matter.

"A ken," Johnny says, kissing the top of your head. "Am gunna be late." He finally pulls away, taking his jacket from your hand.

"Goodbye, Johnny, we'll be waiting," you say, already missing his embrace. "No' goodbye, a'll see ye later," Johnny gives you a last kiss before leaving.

If only it was "see you later."

Weeks later, you find yourself crumbling to the ground when a flag is presented to you.

The uniformed man at your door wasn't even audible past your cries.

There was a deep sickness you felt in your stomach, a nausea that bubbled in the back of your throat.

Feeling a hand on your back rubbing soothing circles, you felt yourself calm down. "I'm sorry for your loss…" his voice was soft and held a guilty undertone.

Nothing could have ever prepared you for the agony that was burning through your chest. You'd assume it was akin to a burning knife being pressed into your heart.

Your sadness never turned to anger.

There were never the 5 stages of grief.

It was just hurt, hurt everywhere.

A/N:

I actually cried for hours after playing the campaign.

COD is literally so shit and they literally made a horrible campaign Johnnys death aside.

Nothing made after MWII is canon for me I literally don’t fucking care.

What they did was not good for the story regardl of if it’s a remake.

They aren’t even following the original so them following ever characters death doesn’t matter.

I’m just pissed that they really just gave us bullshit with a shock factor death to take the fucking cake for worst game campaign ever.

Anyways I hoped you all enjoyed I’ll be writing fluff later on to compensate for this.

And if konigsblog is reading thank you for your post about writing a Scottish accent cause it really helped when I was writing this.

[respectthepetty]

I need to know how you’re doing with the update on Nick in the recent only friends episode.

I feel you are living for and wanted this twisted mess characters and I think it’s getting there!

Anon, I don't like Tyler Perry movies, but I love Tyler Perry moments. For example, in Diary of a Mad Black Woman, after her ex-husband (who did her DIRTY!) gets injured, a woman goes back to take care of him only for him to berate her like he used to, so she flips the script and throws him in a tub just to tell him to stop making all that noise as a he is drowning. Another of my favorite moments is in Why Did I Get Married? when a husband is complaining that his wife is crazy, she establishes why she is crazy (he cheated among other things) and reveals that she knows the exact distance it takes him to drive to certain places, so she checks the mileage in his car when he gets home just to make sure he didn't take any detours.

Perry's moments embody the Black proverb "See, this right here is what we not finna do/You've got the wrong one"

Why am I telling you this?

Because Boston done fucked with the wrong one.

We were all thinking Mew was gonna be the big bad manipulator against Top while yelling at Nick to run far away from Boston, yet my baby is about to Single White Female Boston's ass, and

I'M LIVING FOR IT!

Because Nicolas is also about to teach Boston another one of my favorite Black proverbs - "Play stupid games, win stupid prizes"

Nick has caught all the feelings for Boston, and Boston has encouraged it. He tells Nick sweet nothings all the time and entertains the idea of them being "something more" knowing damn well he is stringing Nick along. Boston likes the attention Nick gives him, and now he is getting a lot more of it than he is aware of.

It doesn't matter if Nick hurts Boston with any of this information (I'm praying he does). What matters is my boy is wild enough to get the information in the first place without a second thought.

Nick is the perfect match for Boss "No Boundaries" Ton. Nick looked through Boston's photos when he was fixing his phone and masturbated to them while Boston keeps photos of all his prey sexual conquests. Nick bugged Boston's car while Boston kept a two-year old photo of his friends making out probably without their knowledge of him even having it. Boston has no boundaries and neither does Nick.

Which is why Nick allowed Boston to lie to him, then made this face.

Nick won't feel guilty violating Boston's privacy when he gave him the chance to come clean. If they are just friends with benefits, as Boston keeps saying like it's a prize he is dangling over Nick, why not just tell the truth about him and Top having fucked before? Or that he was going to fuck someone else (not even give a name)? Or simply not lie that he was gonna clean up?

But just like the party moment, when they were in the car, Nick was trying to decide if he was going to bug it based on Boston's answer. And as usual, Boston bullshitted.

Boston keeps playing games.

So he shouldn't be surprised if Nicolas puts a tracking device on his phone to see what detours Boston might be taking on his way to his place.

What can I say? I love toxic bitches.

[gorbalsvampire]

Do you have any thoughts, feelings, dismissive or derisive or intrigued or speculative noises you'd be willing to share about the "Kupala is an Earthbound" theory, please?

My dear mutual, it's like you knew I'd read Transylvania by Night recently! Beyond that, I've actually used Kupala in my long-ago Gehenna chronicle; the PCs essentially unleashed the demon to stop Tremere (the person and the clan) from winning the Eternal Struggle through a curse loophole. Good times.

Unfortunately, my thoughts on the Earthbound bit specifically tend towards the... not dismissive, but indifferent? I'm not a big Demon or Werewolf guy, and either of the "OMG Kupala is really THIS" revelations mostly serve to enable crossovers with those lines. Like: Kupala exists, it's a thing, it's in the soil in Transylvania, and how it got there and what exactly it is don't really matter in terms of the stories I want to tell.

Additionally - and this is my most unpopular opinion, so be warned - I find the Tzimisce deeply overwritten. There's too much convoluted comic-book "and then and then and then" worldbuilding around the clan. "They're bound to their ancestral soil because their Antediluvian made a pact with a demon of the primordial world" is a perfectly fine thing, but it has to coexist with too many other big things in the main, like "their Antediluvian has become a disease and is capable of affecting the entire biosphere" or "one of their bloodlines rejects Kupala and koldunism but it's not the same one that rejects Vicissitude so they're all still fucked" or [redacted because it's the stupidest bit of Dirty Secrets of the Black Hand] or the whole "two Antediluvian bodies" thing or playing Find The Lady with the worm in the box in Vienna. None of those ideas have room to breathe because they're all crammed in and treated as true at once.

The Tzimisce really need someone like Matthew Dawkins to work them over, the way he did the Hecata in Cults of the Blood Gods, establish a new normal with a coherent context rather than bits jabbing up through various books by various authors. If I ever write up my notes on V5: the Dark Ages, I'm going to try and do that job (since a lot of their bullshit originates in or before the Dark Ages setting).

HOWEVER. Kupala is kinda my favourite of the Tzmisce lore strands. It feels like the easiest to separate out from the others, and gives them a closer tie to the Tremere ("Kupala keeps encouraging sorcery in clans, wonder why?"). I think, when I first ran that Gehenna game, I was under the impression that Vicissitude somehow came from Kupala as well - that it was the Eldest's payoff for unbinding the demon/god.

So. Kupala. I like it, but I don't necessarily think attaching the "Earthbound from Demon: the Fallen" or "big ol' Bane from Werewolf: the Apocalypse" is necessary.

[msmcnevertweet]

GHOULBOYS - Where ghosts are real, or not I guess.

GHOULBOYS is a one-shot horror/comedy TTRPG for 3 players. It's about amateur paranormal investigators hunting for ghosts in supposedly haunted locales, interpreting evidence and bullshitting with their friends. I made this one! I love ghost things! Let's talk about them! But first...

Will we finally answer the question... are ghosts real?

Inspired by shows and games like Ghost Files, Buzzfeed Unsolved: Supernatural, Phasmophobia and Most Haunted, you'll play as one of three classes:

The BELIEVER, trying to uncover evidence that the paranormal is real, and detail the nature of the supposed haunting.

The SCEPTIC, who believes that everything has a reasonable explanation, and the idea of ghosts is kinda funny. 

The PRODUCER, who’s recording this whole thing, and looking out for what the other two might miss.

It's a GMless game where you and your two friends fuck around in abandoned buildings with spirit boxes, motion sensors, and turn the gain up on your microphone incredibly loudly to hear what might, maybe have someone saying half a word.

If that sounds cool, it's $5 until the end of the month!

My friends it is time to peer closely at a blurry photo

YES IT'S TIME FOR MORE SELF INDULGENCE BELOW THE CUT.

(Potential) Spoilers for: Ghostwatch and The Blair Witch Project.

Bro bro bro did you see that bro BRO

When I was a teen posessed by the grim specter of an idea known as "Thinking I was a guy", I used to get very stoned and sit in cars with my friends and drive around at night. Being stoned with The Lads was a good way of pretending I wasn't possessed, I guess.

One time we drove to a supposedly haunted stretch of road; the story was that a woman who lived nearby had gone out onto the road late at night and been hit by a car and killed. If you drove along that road at the time of her death, you might see her, wearing the nightgown she died in.

After about an hour of driving up and down the road, we were about to give up. The driver swung into a driveway to turn the car around, and out of the pitch blackness, I saw it. White, twisted, grasping. It was just a flash, but I know what I saw. I screamed, my friends screamed, the tires of the car screamed as they span griplessly on the tarmac for that endless split second before it pulled away.

Yes of course it was a fucking tree. But for at least 5 minutes, we all believed I'd seen her. As plain as day, a dead woman in a nightgown had grasped at me on the other side of the windscreen through the darkness. The real fear lasted seconds. The adrenaline lasted a few minutes. The laughs lasted for a while afterwards.

I don't believe in ghosts. But the idea of them has the power to make us conjure them. We stare at the fuzzy frozen frame of video and think we can see a form, a face. We listen to the overpowering static hum of a shotgun mic pointed into a hallway and swear we hear a voice. We peer into the darkness, and our brains connect the dots we've decided are there. We want to be scared, especially when we can laugh about it afterwards.

It's just the Pipes

If you know the Orson Welles' War of the Worlds radio broadcast, Ghostwatch pulls a similar trick. It's 1992, you've sat down to watch a live TV show doing a "scientific investigation" into a haunted suburban home with Big Name TV News Guy Michael Parkinson, Big Name TV "Robot Wars" Guy Craig Charles, and a bunch of other Big Name TV people I don't really know.

The house is supposedly possessed by a malevolent evil spirit who the homeowners kids call Pipes. They hear banging noises at night, their mom tells them "It's just the pipes." Watch along at home, phone in using the number on your screens with your ghost stories, and you know, just in case you maybe see anything on the footage that we might miss.

It's staged, of course, and staged incredibly. It's very fucking creepy. Kitchy, mundane 90's TV gives way slowly to creeping dread that never seems to stop creeping, eventually arriving at a terminus of full on Blair Witch surrealness. It drew so many complaints from people whose children were turned to traumatised wrecks that it was banned from being broadcast for 10 years.

Probably because the newscaster they saw on TV every day turned, in the course of about half an hour, from this

To this

There's not really many clips on youtube but trust me, it's good. It's slow. Give it a chance, you should watch it.

Josh? Is that you down there?

There's so many jokes about The Blair Witch Project, but that's not because it's bad. I mean, it IS kind of bad, and that's the point. Heather, Josh and Mike are just amateur film makers making a documentary on a shoestring budget, about the mystery of the Blair Witch, the details of which matter little to what happens next. The jokes are attempts by people trying to break the hold the film has on them. But it holds on tight.

It works so well because it's so sparse. The minimal, natural sets, the handheld footage, the we're-not-even-really-acting-I'm-actually-kinda-just-creeped-out performances. The characters talk like convincingly kinda shitty people, deal with getting lost like real people, argue like convincingly scared people. It explains nothing about the greater mystery, cares not for any attempt to make sense of what's going on, all it wants to do is slowly drag you to it's stark, screaming conclusion.

Like many successful horror films, it got a bunch of sequels which I've not seen, and don't care to. It doesn't need them.

Ok but what about real ghosts

There's something about a weird dollar store Trent Reznor and his bros crawling around a tourist spot that makes Ghost Adventures so fun to watch. Trant Reznot is out here shouting at ghosts with his whole chest like "I HEARD YOU DON'T LIKE BIG LIGHTS SHINING IN YOUR FACE HUH", and it's great. When the often questionable "activity" occurs, it's rarely actually spooky in any way, but the deadly serious way with which they describe the mote of light (read: dust particle) moving across the footage that it's endearing.

These shows (Most Haunted, 28 Days Haunted, et al) tend towards having a pseudo "intellectual" angle. Ghost Adventures doesn't care, it's listening to Tool in it's car outside the high school, passing you a joint and saying "Isn't it fucked up that people die, but like, aren't gone, man?" I can't tell if it doesn't take itself too seriously, or if it just doesn't really know how to be serious, but it's good.

Hey there demons, it's me... ya boi

I watched so much god damn Buzzfeed Unsolved through Covid. I watched it until the early hours of the morning, until I'd successfully creeped myself out to the point where I had to run from the living room to the bedroom in the dark to avoid the Texarkana Phantom Killer that my brain had successfully materialised just behind the back of my head.

Somehow Buzzfeed Unsolved Supernatural - it's sister show focused on.. well, supernatural stuff, and it's successor Ghost Files manages to be both scary, whilst also simultaneously very stupid and funny.

Both Shane and Ryan are always ready to be scared, but they're also both ready to laugh. They have a very endearing camaraderie too, like two kids in class trying to get the each other told off by the teacher, and despite the semi serious presentation, unlike Ghost Adventures they're not precious about trying to make sure you're scared. It invites you laugh and be afraid in equal measure, and it feels natural, especially in the early episodes. If Ryan is freaking out about the Waverly Hills Hospital body chute, it's because.. well.. watch the video? I would absolutely not go down there.

This tension between laughing and screaming drives the show. The balance between spooky-funny and spooky-scary is a delicate one. Ryan and Shane are great at knowing when to tip that balance, one way or the other.

It's easily the single biggest influence on Ghoulboys (I mean, of course it is?) because of this. When playing, you're always caught in this in-between moment that the Ghoulboys themselves do so well. Waiting for something to fall over, the spirit box to speak, the SLS scanner to show a fleeting figure. Whether it's scary or silly, your brain is waiting for it, ready to draw the shapes of ghosts we want to see.

Thank you for coming to my Ghost TED Talk

Man ghost stuff is so good, real or fake. I just wanted to make a funny game that occasionally made you raise your eyebrows and look at each other like "Oh, shit..." and had lots of stupid ghost hunting equipment, and I think it worked out. Thanks for reading.

Again, if you want to check out Ghoulboys, it's $5 until the end of the month. Take a look! There's a video of me and some friends playing it!

[theoneofwhomisblue]

Maybe following 3,000 people isn't great

Because I fucking hate scrolling through this fucking site now

I'm not even joking, I fucking hate this shit

This site sucks ass

Also if this post has less than 10 notes in 3 hours I'm deleting it

I know this is completely my fault. I also don't give a fuck

I'm too tired to curate my page to be decent for me

I'm so fucking tired

This site sucks ass

Reddit sucks ass

Tumblr sucks ass

The Internet fucking sucks

Google is constantly bitching at me to pay for more space in my account cause I habitually download every Tumblr and reddit image resulting in 13 gigabytes of bullshit

I fucking hate this

Anyway

I'll find better stuff to post tomorrow

Or not

I don't know

I'm so fucking tired

Kill myself

What the fuck do I do with my time now? Is there another site or app worth my time?

Tumblr's ass, I'll still use it but it's dogshit

I'm too tired to even do reddit anymore

Twitter is fucking disgusting and gets worse by the day because of dipshit mcmusk

And that's all that comes to mind

YouTube is constant background noise, but the algorithm there is fucked up too

I hate every video thats recommended to me

I'm not doing fucking tiktok

I don't care about my standards anywhere else, but no fucking tiktok

What else is there now?

Oh yeah, I can't comment on webtoon because I accidentally said fuck in a comment, so all the fun community stuff there is gone now too

All the webtoons suck ass anyway

The only fucking app that hasn't disappointed me is cookie clicker

Been playing it for like 400 days

I make continual progress

I just check in every two days to pop the wrinklers

Then after a month or two on a run I check in after a week

Until my legacy points start to plateau, then I reset

And get all the upgrades I can afford

Buy 5 grandmas, then 90 more, then as many more as I can afford that'd a multiple of 100

I do the same on everything else

Except the fractile engines, which I buy as many as possible, no matter the multiple

And buy all the items

Then at that point I start the research facilities, then start one, and check back in 30 minutes until I've researched them all

Then I top off the fractile engines and leave for a day

Then check every day, popping the wrinklers until a week in, then every 2 days. Then after a few months once every week

Then I do it all again

And spend all the legacy points on the upgrades I can afford

It's rewarding you know

Consistent anyway

Unlike reddit and Tumblr and Twitter and YouTube and everything else, it doesn't fuck me over on the algorithm whatever the fuck

Reddits decent for the porn, that's all

You know, I used to use a lot of sites for porn

Dozens and dozens of sites bookmarked

Then at some point I started to only use r34 reddit nhentai, and occasionally the good ol hub

I didn't use to have accounts, I'd depend on my memory for different images and accounts and artists and comics and shit

Then I made accounts on r34 phub reddit e6 gelb nhentai and half a dozen others

And started saving things

It used to be a fun game to try to remember

Now it's gone

But I'm too tired to continue that anyway

Anyway, same shit everything else as with the porn at this point

No variety

Nothing fun

It's all annoying bullshit

With the Advent of machine learning chat bot whatever the fucks, there's a little bit new

But aside from that, it's just the same thing every day

I'm so fucking tired of living like this duxe

The fucking internet used to mean something

Now it's just the boring status quo bullshit

And I know that it's because of me

But still

It fucking sucks

I don't want to do this shit

And I spend like 10 hours a day on the Internet too

More than ever

But I'm not happy

Barely entertained

But it kills time

If I need information, porn, music, videos, whatever elze

Entertainment

I get it

But I'm not happy about it

It's shitty

I feel like shit

Like, my life outside the internet is decent. But the Internet consumes so much of it, and I don't even like it anymore

I don't know if there's a fix

Or if I should just stop being so online and shit

I'm too tired to do anything anyway

I don't know

I take pride in what I achieve for some reason

But as soon as I get the imaginary goal point, I don't give a shit

Over a year I got a shit ton of reddit karma on a new accoutn

A specific number, that I won't say to keep myself from seeming like I'm trying to brag

But once I got it, I no longer cared to comment or post

Over 2 or 3 months, I don't remember, whenever 196 shut down, I got a relative shit ton of followers

Again, a specific number, but I won't say

I'll keep that number secret, cause I can

But once I got this imaginary amount that I thought I'd never reach, I didn't care anymore

I still posted as much as I did before

But I got no joy out of it

I just post, wait a few hours, then check to see how many notes

If it's an amount equal to what I think is average for the amount of followers I have, I feel kinda good, then post again

But that's it

I don't scroll anymore, except occasionally on my followers profiles when I accidentally click on them while looking through my new notes

And I enjoy that

But other than those fleeting moments, and the small satisfaction I get from high note counts I don't care

I don't care for Tumblr or anything else on this shit

I don't know man, is this how other people do stuff on the Internet?

I don't think so, people always have strong emotions on the Internet

I emulate my internet behavior to match, which makes me think that maybe more people do the same as me

But I have no evidence

I don't know, I'm too fucking tired of this shit

I just got an apathy about the Internet at this point

Apps, sites, everything

I just don't care

But I'm always on it

It makes no sense

I should probably proofread this post as I go

This is just a stream of consciousness at this point

I won't check it as I go

Maybe I'll make this a thing

Just typing my unfiltered thoughts for like 30 minutes then posting

Depends on the notes I get

If the notes are bad I'll just delete it and forget about it

Who knows

I guess I keep trying to do that

I'll do something new on Tumblr like this

And think "oh, maybe this'll be a new thing I do" then it dies

At first it was my consistent posting of reddit shit for like a year ago

Then I stopped posting that consistently

Then it was random screenshots of mine

I even made a tag for that one

Then it died

I keep thinking of myself as someone important because of my follower count

Which doesn't make sense as it's not even a lot

But still

I don't know

My delusions of microcelebrity status are the only thing keeping me on this site/app at this point

If I didn't have that, and the fuel for the delusion that is notes I'd be gone

I did already fuck my recommended tab

And following tab

And tag tab

It's already all bullshit

I guess I can keep my narcissism about my status in this site because of the top post by notes tab on a blog

I just click into someones

And 9 times out of ten, they don't have top note counts even comparable to time

Which fuels the delusion

It's the same thing I'd do on reddit

"oh this person only has [x] karma, when they've been on reddit for 3 years. And I have triple that, and I've had this account for 6 months. I'm better"

Shit like this is what makes the internet garbage

I don't let it bleed into the theme of my posts and comments tho

I let it make me feel superior than everyone else

But if I made that obvious in any post it'd be for naught

For that reason I'm considering not posting this anymore

Whatever, this post is already super long rambling bullshit

If it gets good notes a single anecdote in it won't matter

And if it doesn't get good notes I'll delete it

Then there's no harm

I just thought of that reasoning now to keep doing this post

Cause I got sunk cost fallacy on this at this point

It was a vent thing at the start

Now it's just me trying to think mildly interesting shit to add

I guess I can use that other reasoning to post anything

If it goes bad, delete it, and no one would have saw it, and no one will, so I matters naught

And if it goes good, who gives a shit

Nothing I post would be bad, maybe cringe, maybe rambling bullshit, as this js

But not bad, so it'd be fine

I lost my train of thought

I think I was gonna say something else about what I'm posting, and how it would be fine

That's gone now

Poof, into the abyss that is lost thoughts

This does kill time tho

It's been like 40 minutes since I started this

This is basically what I do in my mind if I just let my mind run, uninterrupted

But here it's written down, with line breaks, and exact words rather than a mix of words and images and concepts

So it's more digestible

I suppose it's not completely true to say this is my pure train of thought, not just because of the exclusion of images and concepts

But also because I'm listening to music

Just enough to mild my mind so to speak

My mind is always going man, and if I don't have something to dampen it

Like music, or weird fidgety things I do with my hands (I don't know the word), or exact things to focus on, I think way too much

And spiral and shit in stress

But then my thoughts are too frantic and fast to write down before they disappear, so in a way this is as pure a log of thoughts as anything could be

You can tell the theme of how I sound now, vs at the beginning

If you don't want to scroll up you can just look at the tags

I typed them near the beginning

And haven't added to them

Nor deleted them

So you can just look slightly down to see the notes

It's not even the right topic anymore. It's still on reddit

And Tumblr and internet shit

Oh yeah, speaking of

I've just said my Tumblr scrolling is bad without specifying

But to specify now, it's like scrolling through Twitter

Weird serious discourses

Arguments

Peculiar topics

Shit like that

You know, not the Tumblr I had before

And if I don't like scrolling through Twitter, why would I be here? And that's the bind I'm in now

I only stick around anymore because of the notes, as I said

I'm back to using punctuation occasionally

Not too much, but at least some commas

No periods though, they seem too intense for a stream of consciousness thinf

Question marks too, but that's about all

Oh yeah, stuff I was talking about before

Webtoon

I shit talked webtoon

It's not too bad

I just fucking hate slice of life shit, dumb "funny" shit, and worst of all romance

I fucking hate romance webtoons

I can't stomach them

And webtoon is constantly shoving exactly those down your throat

And when my tolerance is low to begin with, and I enter webtoon, and it throws a fucking popup in my face for a dogshit new romance thing, I damn near snap my phone in half

But it's not too bad

I just read the fantasy/action/thriller/horror/drama (ones without romance shit) ones

But I can't navigate the canvas section decent at all

By design obviously, canvas doesn't make webtoon money, the originals do

But I'm too tired to work against them

So I only read originals

But at least they post regularly

I read around 70 webtoons now

Which is to say, I read the new episodes of them when they come out

With such a large selection, I have like 4 webtoons minimum updating every day at 7:00 pm

8:00 when there's time change

But 7:00 most of the timr

It notifies you at 7:30 but they update at 7:00

Except for the goblin one, which updates at like 7:20 for some reason

And the daily pass ones, those update at 8:00 for some reason

But they notify you directly at 8:00 for those if I remember correctly

Even still

I remember roughly which days are best

Tuesdays have the most, like 15 updated at once

And ones I really like too

Fridays have a handful, and the one daily pass that I read as they come out week by week

Saturdays have like 4 I really care about, then like 5 I think are mediocre, but they kill time so Saturdays are good

Mondays are ok, but that's about it

Wednesdays are kinda ass, but they're decent

Thursdays used to be amazing, but after like 3 I really care about went on hiatus, Thursdays don't matter anymore

But having like 60 (because 5-10 are on hiatus at a time) new episodes a week, divied up across the week pretty well

Is nice

Now, I did accidentally say fuck in a comment, because there was a guy shipping children and saying sexual stuff about it, then there was a reply on it from another guy defending it. So I got mad, and typed a paragraph saying why that was fucked up

But I said fuck

So I can't comment anymore

I don't know, webtoons ok tho

I was just pissed off earlier

What else was there

Oh yeah reddit

I've actually been temp banned from Reddit (like my entire account) twice for using up too much server space on bullshit

There's this thing where you type u/profanitycounter [self] and it tells you how many times youve said certain swears in like the past 500 comments

So, for a joke, twice I've copy pasted "cum cum cum cum cum cum cum cum...", The max amount of times you can in one comment (a few thousand, I can't remember), then do that in a comment chain with myself for like 150 comments in a row

And it takes me several hours, but it's funnt

But it resulted in a temp ban for 2 days

Then like 4 months later, a temp ban for a week

Cause I used too much space, or bandwidth or whatever the fuck doing that

Also I got banned from r/Barry for saying the last season was ass

And I got banned from r/notinteresting for a reason I don't fucking know

But aside from that, my accounts clean

With a shit ton of karma too

Oh yeah, I use the same username (or a derivative of it) for every porn site account I make.

If you can find it out somehow I'll give you the passwords to the accounts

I doubt anyone could, it's a different username than I use for anything else

But there's hints

If anyone cares I'll even give you a few more hints directly in a DM if you ask

Though I will be vague as fuck

Been doing this for over an hour now

I wasn't paying enough attention to when I started

I'm pretty sure I heard someone say that Tumblr has no character cap

Let's hope so

I'm too tired to continue this shit

I guess this ends it

Let me know if y'all want more bullshit like this

I, personally, always like an unfiltered look at someone mind

But that's me personally

Maybe my mind is bland and uninteresting

Who knows

I'll stick with what I said at the beginning tho

Less than 10 notes in 3 hours and this post going bye bye

I got a headache from this shit

I thought way more than I usually do

Now that I'm more chill, I don't hate tumblr

I fucked it up for me

But y'all are good

Tumblr's good

[themightymoose]

Door-Jammed

wait a minute

*le-gasp*

I think I remember this :D

She is so obsessed with doorknobs 💀

Damn we got some beef

Sunil and Vinnie automatically assuming it's a werewolf

Now we got Mrs. Twombly in with the fantasies

At least she's being a good sport about it

Fisher is actually being a responsible father

I am so sorry I misjudged you sir

THEY KEEP TELEPORTING OUT OF NOWHERE

Blythe just leave those flyers out in the middle of the sidewalk who cares

"FISHER BISKIT!"

Blythe just willing to go for Mrs. Twombly's sake

She's such a good kid and for what

That is literally me when I hurt myself

Who makes those noises when they hurt themselves though

Sunil hugging Vinnie and Vinnie immediately getting out of his grip

And then Vinnie jumping on top of him

It's just Russell the littlest guy ever :)

Russell and Zoe playing cards

They are so domesticated

You guys are so stupid

Besties I think you guys are thinking of vampires

What kind of card game is this

No Zoe don't say that they're going to think it's you now

Russell you little bitch

"Yeah go interrogate Zoe actually I'm tired of your bullshit"

i love him

Russell and Zoe are just like, "These dumbasses."

Wait does Zoe think he's a werewolf now or is she just mad he made them think that she's a werewolf

Blythe being traumatized by the paintings and Mrs. Twombly just rolling with it

Those stupid little giggles >:/

Blythe assuming the Biskits don't know what a doorknob is

"My precious 👺👺👺👺👺 Fisher doesn't respect the knob 👺👺👺👺👺."

Mrs. Twombly debating with herself

It turns the true enemies... were with us all along 😔😔😔

Minka brushing Russell's spikes

Most pets have claws

Except for Vinnie I guess

"Hi, guys!" Why did that sound so robotic

Guys you're making everyone paranoid stop it

Then again why is everyone just taking their word as law

Pepper just like "what the fuck Penny I thought we were tight :("

This is getting annoying to listen to honestly

MINKA DIDN'T WANT TO GET A CONCUSSION GUYS IT'S NOT THAT DEEP

You guys are so stupid

I would die for them

Russell just leave they're a lost cause at this point

Oh no.... they're stuck in the bathroom together... who could've seen this coming...

(Me. I did)

So fucking dramatic

Huh

Uh oh

Guys that was her fucking stomach

A growl would be if it came from the throat

Idiots

Pepper hiding in the fire hydrant with her tail sticking out

Blythe is still trying to be nice

Patience of a saint honestly

Poor Roger

Get it king

*le-gasp* again

It's ✨T I M E✨

"He's straight." "He's gay." Okay???? He's been wolfified???? You better fly??? Cause there's no one here to save you???? And you cannot deny he's been wolfified???? Just say goodbye???? Cause there's no place left to run to???? There's no place left to hide????

They actually look really cool wolfified

What would Sunil and Vinnie look like

Vinnie is missing out on the cool designs smh

Wolfified? More like 💅yassified💅

Okay I get it Pepper has sharp fangs compared to everyone else

...

✍️✍️✍️

Just take a break to dance

I wish all horror movies were like that could you imagine

Just Michael Myers breaking it down

Russell why did you do that

So you don't like Blythe because Brittany doesn't like Blythe

This is gonna get erased in future episodes isn't it

They are bonding

This is really cute actually

The sudden cut to Brittany

I love how they actually really care about each other

Immediately assuming Blythe will cause psychological damage

So they stopped thinking each other is a werewolf and just thinks Russell is one now

My man did nothing wrong

Why is it just him????

Idiots part two

The utter betrayal on Brittany's face

NOT THE RECORD SCRATCH

Great now Blythe and Brittany BOTH feel betrayed

I love Blythe's and Mrs. Twombly's friendship

You all infested Blythe with your idiocy

Also they're still using garlic

Also Russell apparently believes the werewolf thing now

[thissortofsorcery]

You thought I wasn't going to do anything for HarringroveWeek... Well, so did I! But then this bug bit me in the ass and I couldn't resist. This is the first chapter of that Modern!AU prompt I posted a few days ago, but it can be read as a stand-alone. Good luck to all of us.

I mix-and-matched a couple prompts for chapter one:

SURPRISE: Steve Harrington’s Closet During His Spring Break Party Cake Slice: Can of Pringles That’s Not Frosting: For the Very First Time

Rating: E Wordcount: 5.8k

Just to Keep The World at Bay

Post game parties are always something else. 

They all start out the same: someone from the team invites a few others over, someone else's older sibling scores them a couple beers, soon enough half the school has taken over a schmuck's house and there's a keg in the backyard if they're lucky. 

Tonight's schmuck happens to be Harrington.

It's the first party Billy's seen at his house since he moved to Hawkins in October, but it's been even longer since he's had any friends to invite over for so much as a tea party, according to Tommy. 

It was the start of the basketball season, and the Hawkins Tigers were off to a good start. Couldn't not be, with Billy on the team. He'd scored half the points on that board, even if he'd just joined last month, and the team slammed back into the locker room hollering Billy's name and salivating for a party. Tommy's parents were home, though, and so were Jack's, and Tina's. And no way they were going to throw a party at Billy's house, even if Neil wasn’t home.

The locker room went silent then, and everyone looked at Harrington. They all knew his house was always free. 

And wasn't that just like high school bullshit, throw you out one second and pick you back up when you're useful again? The team started buttering Harrington up right then, cajoling him, but it looked like there was no swaying him. Until Billy opened his mouth, that is.

"What, Harrington?" Billy said, buttoning up his shirt in front of his locker. "You scared you don't have it in you to throw a party anymore? Gonna watch Supergirl and go to bed at nine?"

Harrington stared at him for almost a minute with the same look he wore that night at the Byers house, that half-narrowed one that looked like he was coming out to play, before he said,

"Fine," with his voice tight, like his chest was coiled, like he wanted to spring on Billy. Billy wanted him to. "Nine. You dipshits find the keg."

Billy couldn't resist clapping him on the shoulder and saying,

“Maybe you got some fire in you after all, Harrington,” before following them out.

He was playing with fire, after the last time he said that exact sentence, but Billy was anything but cautious. 

He was curious to see what kind of party this was going to be, what with Harrington being removed from the popular crowd for so long. 

You wouldn't know that, looking at him now. Harrington looks good in a white t-shirt and jeans, beer in hand and bouncing to the music booming in the living room. His hair is everywhere, and there's a faint layer of sweat covering his skin, making him glow in the low light of the party, shirt sticking to his skin. Billy wants to lick him all over.

A girl comes over to hang on Harrington's arm, and he turns to dance with her, smiling wide and ducking down to talk in her ear, and Billy turns away. He'd been staring too long anyway. He knows better than that.

He makes his way to the kitchen, passes people making out in the hallway, sees Dan the Man over by the punch bowl yammering on to another player about pure fuel or whatever the fuck, and grabs another beer out of the ice packed sink. Pulls his phone out of his jacket pocket when it buzzes.

It's from Maxine. 

neil passed out in the living room

He texts a thumbs up back and deletes both their messages from his phone. He'll have to sneak in through his window, now, and be more sober than he planned on being so he doesn't make any noise. Fucking wonderful.

His phone buzzes again.

ur welcome asshole

Billy just deletes the text and pockets the phone, moving out of the kitchen and back to where the noise is louder.

He downs half his beer before he's back in the living room, inserting himself into the crowd of dancing people. Billy doesn't spot Harrington again, and he tells himself he isn't looking. He lets himself go to the feeling of bodies pressing against his, lets the music make his ears thrum, gets his arms around a pretty girl or two.

Tommy finds him and drags him to the keg a while later, and Billy breaks his own record at forty-four seconds, relishing in the feeling of his lungs burning and begging for air, of the blood rushing to his head, imagines he's wiped out under a wave and is going to find his way above the water any second now.

Billy gets down hollering, spitting out beer, just like the first time, and Tommy's got an arm over his shoulder, yelling and filming them on his phone. 

Billy gets his face close to the phone screen and licks the camera, yelling, "Fuck you, Hawkins!" 

"Gross, Hargrove," Tommy wipes the screen on his shirt, but doesn't let go of Billy.

"I better not find that shit going viral."

"Relax, old man," Tommy says, dragging him over to a cooler of beers next to the sliding glass doors. "I'm not an idiot, my account's private."

Billy grunts, not entirely satisfied. Tommy may get away with posting drunk shit online all the time, but Billy sure as hell won't. His dad doesn't use social media, but Susan is on Facebook for her sewing club and some MLM shit she almost got caught up in back in California. He might snatch Tommy's phone later and delete it.

The beers are icy cold, at least, in goddamn December in Indiana. The backyard is full of people despite the cold, the same music from the living room playing outside. Figures Harrington would have fancy outdoor speakers to match his fancy pool, Billy thinks.

Someone else is trying to do a keg stand and failing, with a crowd of people filming them, and there are people dancing out on the patio and on the grass, either drinking or smoking or both. Some are just sat around talking, and Billy frowns when he spots Carol sitting on a pool chair and chatting with Harrington, of all people.

"What's going on over there?" Billy points to them with his beer.

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