#i am rotating these bitches in my mind so much

[spending-life-pretending]

i love insane gay people

[imwritesometimes]

I'm nine innings away from making a questionable life choice I can feel it....

[crazyw3irdo]

girl help i cannot stop fucking thinking about wkm

[jq37]

How do you rank the Rat Grinders in terms of "most want to be friends" vs "die"

Honorable Mention #1 spot goes to Lucy Frostblade who seems like an absolute sweetheart. Anyone who's doing the Cinderella thing w/ the local rodent population is worth befriending in my book. Hope you're resting in peace now girl. You would have loved Zayne Darkshadow and Edgar.

(1) Oisin: OK listen, I am aware that all Rat Grinders must be regarded with some level of suspicion but come ON. I want so so badly for him to be exactly what he's been portrayed to be--a hot buff nerd who is easily flustered by Adaine. Fig got a wizard girlfriend so Adaine should get a wizard boyfriend. That's just equity. Don't you believe in equity Brennan? Joking aside, I think it would be really nice for Adaine to have another someone in her life who thinks she's great and tells her that since she spent so long deprived of that and is just recently starting to get that from people. Anyway, would love another wizard paramour in the Bad Kid rotation.

(2) Buddy: Hear me out. This dude absolutely needs to be deprogrammed a bit but so did Kristen when we met her. And his heart seems to be in the right place. I think he could be a good friend if they approach this from the right angle/are interested in flipping him. Also I went to college in Alabama, alright? His southern charm got me.

(3) Mary Ann: I haven't really gotten a solid read on Mary Ann yet. Is she suspicious or worn down or just Like That? No way to tell yet. But she hasn't actually done anything wrong yet so she gets this spot.

(4) Ruben: I'm more suspicious of Ruben this week than last week after his performance turned about to be a secret ritual, and he's also consistently been shitty to Fig which I don't like. But I'm suspicious abut how much of that is his natural energy and how much of that is related to the rage god. He wasn't emo when he started, remember? He was all smiles and braces and acoustic guitar. People can just genuinely change for the worse but I dunno. Might be something there and the Bad Kids ally list includes SEVERAL people who should be in jail right now so you know. Open mind.

(5) Kipperlilly: Kipperlilly is frankly just more fun as an antagonist than as an ally lol. Like even outside of the point that they hate her to the point of refusing to properly say her name so friendship was never an option, it's just not the most fun route.

(6) Ivy: Choke on grapes, bitch. I hope she ends up in hell with Penelope. This is Fantasy High. You can be a murderer but you can't be RACIST.

Interested to hear anyone else's takes if their list is different!

[steddieas-shegoes]

You have provided so many headcanons and, with a lurker’s thankful heart, I am now giving you my steddie headcanon, built entirely around the idea that Steve knows he’s queer but has no idea at all that he’s kinky. I’m thinking this takes place when Eddie and Robin and Steve have all come out to each other but Eddie hasn’t explained to anyone what that black bandana in his pocket is about; either steddie are pre-slash besties or a recently established relationship.

Steve’s been stressed and Eddie really wants to do something for him, so one day they’re hanging out and Eddie asks what Steve’s idea of the most relaxing day ever is.

Steve’s like “Oh, man, I’d love a day where I don’t have to think, like, at all. Zero decision making.”

“Right, right, a lord in his castle keep, languorous and content with pizza and a constant rotation of movies and high as fuck.” Eddie has already psychically made his way to Family Video and picked up Steve’s favorite films and is mentally on his way to Melvald’s to get all his favorite snacks when Steve interrupts—

“No, no, if it was that easy I could set that up for myself. No I need another person who I really really trust who wouldn’t mind a lot of planning; I’d ask Robin but I think by hour two being in charge she’d start to get bored or start to catastrophize. I could plan the day for her and just let her run it, but that sorta defeats the purpose. Actually,” and he sits up, looks at Eddie consideringly, “actually with those long campaigns you do, I bet you could plan it. And I trust you… it’s kinda weird though.”

Eddie’s like “You know I love weirdos; hit me with it Stevie.”

Steve, starts off slowly, darting looks at Eddie’s face while he talks. “It’s morning, and my alarm isn’t set. Alarm clock isn’t even plugged in. Is it because I’m sleeping in? No— it’s because it is Someone Else’s Responsibility to get me up on time, and I trust them to do it. They wake me up and normally- depending on the day- I’d decide if I’ll shower or take a bath or just wash my face and brush my teeth before doing my hair but not this day.

No, on Steve Doesn’t Think Day they wake me up and tell me how to clean up. I’m in there and they knock on the door and say “hey, Steve, I set your outfit out on the bed. when you’re done get dressed and come to the kitchen.” and I do! I still have a whole closet and wardrobe full of clothes that I don’t have to consider. Does my outfit match the weather? Is it color coordinated? Does it match the plans for the day? It probably is all those things, but I’m not worried about that. I’m just a very good listener, who doesn’t decide things.

And then I go in the kitchen!” Steve, excited, getting into it, starts pacing around. “Are there groceries? Am I cooking breakfast? Are we going to brunch later? Was that budgeted for? Is it a cereal day or a coffee and toast day or a full spread day? There are answers to all of those questions, and whoever woke me up has them. I don’t give a damn. They hand me a cup of coffee, I’m like thank you very much, they’re like of course, Steve, good job, Steve, I’m proud of you, Steve, don’t worry about it, Steve, you let me worry about it. Just. You know, man.

A full day of going places and doing things and not having to stress or plan for it any of it. I don’t have to drive, unless they tell me to drive. I don’t have to talk to other people unless they tell me to talk! Maybe I bitch a little, because complaining is fun!! And they don’t get angry at me for it and their feelings don’t get hurt because they know I’m just gonna listen in the end anyway. Total relaxation, no decisions, complete faith that whoever’s in charge won’t put me in a bad spot.”

And dom top Eddie, white knuckling his black bandana trying really hard not to vibrate apart at a molecular level while he listens to Steve Harrington describe lifestyle submission as his most ideal day, fighting to answer in a calm and level voice: “Steve-o, you’re not gonna believe what I’m about to tell you.”

They have a long conversation and after Eddie’s like I want you to go in the other room and really think about what you want from this because I’ll take charge of you for the day but we need boundaries and guidelines; go consider this seriously for at least an hour. Steve respects Eddie (and also enjoys acts of service and doing what he’s told) so of course he listens. This does lead to Steve repeatedly sticking his head into the room Eddie’s in to say something unhinged, like

“Hey, sometimes when I’m struggling to get out of my own head I purposely wear my starchiest tightest jeans and my tightest polo and it kinda restricts my movement and reach and breathing and brings a constant awareness of my body that I find really grounding — is that bondage and do you think I should be tied up? okay, okay, thanks, restart the hour please.”

It’s a long afternoon for Eddie.

This is.

Art.

This is art.

Thank you for sending this in, please tell me you plan to write more of this because I would love that very much.

I love just about any type of realization Steve has about his kinks, but the one where he just realizes that the stuff he likes is actually very kinky and Eddie is the one to tell him hits every check mark for me.

Thank you thank you thank you for this. I hope you catch every green light on your daily travels and no one ever talks to you unless you want them to. ❤️

[enigmatist17]

It's the bandage he sees first, the huge bandage that was covering more area than it should have. He doesn't see red, and the tightness in his chest that had sat there when he and Chin got the call from Max that Steve was in his apartment.

He appears to have been stabbed.

That's all that had been rotating in Danny's mind the agonizing drive over, but Steve was standing and surprised to see the two.

"What the hell is the matter with you? What is the matter with you?!"

Steve's shoulders slump at the beginning of his rant, but Danny is not concerned with that.

"Breaking outta jail, taking out a cop?! Have you lost your mind?!"

Danny knows the answer is yes, both for Steve and himself the prick.

"Why you yelling at me?" Danny can't help but internally soften at the adorable questioning face he hadn't seen for far too long, but it'll be a snowy day in Hawaii before he ever admits it.

"I'm not yelling at you!"

"Actually, you were expressing yourself in a very loud manner."

"Hey, zip it Kermit." Max blinks, unaware that one doesn't interject themselves into a Danny Williams bitching session. Well, unless you know how to that is, Kelly finally stepping in to prevent their shouting match from drawing very much unneeded attention. They aren't together for long, the man called Joe that no one trusted giving the least amount of information possible having McGarrett jumping at the bit to go.

Danny despises this, but knows right now is not the time to push too hard, so he follows his fearless leader.

The day feels like its lasted a month by the time McGarrett is proven innocent, Wo Fat is established to have been behind the Governor's murder, and the Five-0 is mostly reinstated. The sun is dipping below the horizon when Danny and Steve pile into his car, the Jersey detective cursing how far forward his seat was as Steve piled into the backseat.

"You better take those boots off, I'm not cleaning the inside of my windows again." He chided, only hearing a faint chuckle from his partner.

"I am too tired to unlace them."

"Then you're cleaning this time."

"Deal."

Seat adjusted and a rolled up sweatshirt tossed in the backseat, Danny begins the drive to his partners house. He can hear Steve pass out before he's out of the parking lot, but rambles on regardless about how life had been during the shit show of the last few weeks.

Steve wakes when he feels the car pull to its final stop, jerking up when the door at his feet opens a moment later.

"Hey, relax Rambo." Danny is positioned away from the car, giving a little wave. "C'mon, I'm not dragging your ass up the stairs and causing any stitches to pop open."

"Stitches can be replaced." Steve shrugged, slowly pulling himself up and out of the car with a grumble. "You don't have to pull a mother hen."

"Me? Mother hen? Shut up." Said stitches ached when he was up on his feet, and for once in his life, Steve doesn't notice Danny move to suddenly be a support. "Get those feet movin', we don't have all night." Steve rolled his eyes, but dutifully follows Danny up and inside his remarkably dust-free place.

"No dust?"

"Figured you have a maid service." Danny shrugs, and points to the bathroom. "Shower, and I'll get you some fresh clothes because you stink right now."

"I promise I have smelled worse." Steve chuckled softly, but is more than happy to take his first non-public shower that didn't require his head on a swivel. Max's stitches were top-notch for something done on the fly, and is amused to find it's most likely going to leave an almost lighting bolt shaped scar.

He doesn't remember much past stepping out of the shower, blinking to find himself now in bed and dressed in his loungewear. The bed is dipping slightly from someone lying next to him, and he doesn't even have to look to know who it is, the familiar scent of cheap coffee, sandalwood and a Jersey local made cologne that Danny always insisted on having shipped. He's watching something on a tablet he'd left during one of his first visits, chuckling to himself, and Steve just idly listens as the pull of sleep slowly pulls him under.

"You better be sleepin'." Danny's voice is as tender as Steve has ever heard, the detective humming as he starts another episode.

"mhm..." It's not his best response, but Danny takes mercy by running a hand through his hair.

"You're gonna need a haircut soon, but one day at a time eh? Now go back to sleep." There's another soft noise before Danny feels Steve go lax once again, the detective keeping the slow rhythm going as the hours tick by. As far as he's concerned, Steve is back where he needs to be, and all is well on this pineapple hellhole of an island.

As close to perfection as it was going to be.

[chemspxdr]

Stupid games. Stupid Prizes.

Relationship: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x reader

Summary: Jake Seresin (am i spelling that right i dont rlly care he's just hot) is a vicious flirt and gets his ass handed to him that’s it that’s the summary. No use of (y/n) because I’m a bad bitch. Am I contributing to U.S. military propaganda simply bc I’m horny? Yeah.

Warnings: allusions to sex if you squint it’s also not beta read so it may be a bag of shite

Author’s note: Me? Finishing a WIP about one of my rotating list of white boys? Insanity. Please validate me. i might make a smutty sequel but you're stuck with this for now.

“You seem bored,” an elbow appears in her peripheral, interrupting her from nursing her drink and watching her phone countdown to her Uber’s arrival. Only a few more minutes until freedom.

“I was at peace, but sure—“bored” works.”

Jake snorts with the shake of his head, eyes glancing upwards in exasperation then back down to her, a fond smirk on his lips.

The Hard Deck is particularly rowdy, a well known tune flowing through the bar accompanied by the occasional burst of song from the patrons upon the chorus. Glasses clink against one another to complement the rumble of overlapping conversation. A game of pool — top gun members celebrating a surprisingly successful week of training — is broken up with intermittent whoops and hollers.

Sure, it’s been a great night , but her muscles are sore and eyes are heavy. A hot shower and a pair of sweatpants are singing her name.

She glances up at him, finger circling the rim of the glass, “Jake Seresin, missing out on a game of pool. Never thought I’d see the day.”

He chuckles at her quirked brow, “got bored of beating ‘em. Besides, they need to build morale — makes winning far more rewarding.”

She hums, bringing her drink to her lips, glass cooling her skin in contrast to the warmth of the liquid filling her chest.

“Wouldn’t you prefer to flirt with someone a bit more interested?”

It’s a jest, he knows, bringing his hand up to his chest in mock-offense, “you wound me. Can I not simply enjoy the presence of my best—“

She glares.

“—a friend?”

“Sure can, I just might be a bit bitchy until I get more alcohol in my system. Recharging the social battery.”

He hums in acknowledgement, “I don’t mind. Just wanna keep you company.”

They fall into blissful silence for a whole minute and a half.

“I’ve never seen you flirt.”

Her eyes widened, snapping her head at the unwelcome interruption, “Maybe you don't watch well enough.”

“Trust me honey, I watch.”

She bristles at the pet name, lip rising into a snarl and earning a laugh deep in his chest.

A beer had appeared in his hand, now being lifted to his lips in a quick swig, “I know you got it in you, why not take any of these lovely patrons home?”

She looks at the patrons in question before returning her gaze to him, “I don’t fuck pilots. Besides, I need to be in the mood.”

“And how could I get you there?”

It’s her turn to laugh, alcohol finally lightening her mood, “In your dreams.”

“You sure are,” he winks much to her chagrin, a groan rising from her throat.

“Okay c’mon, I wanna know how you work, what’s your strategy?”

Her brow somehow rises higher in question.

“Strategy?” She shrugs, “depends on the person. The vibe, the aurora, star sign, whatever.”

“Then what would you do for me?”

She laughs again, “there are much simpler ways of asking me to flirt with you, Jake.”

“This is more fun.”

She sighs at his bravado, rolls her eyes at the clear puffing of his chest. Seresin is a damn good pilot and a damn good flirt, and it seems she’s the target. It’s been like this since they met, a game of battling wits and dagger tongues. Their fellow pilots found it entertaining for a few weeks in training, but eventually their arguments during dogfights lead to regularly muted comms.

He has baited her into another battle, a provocation hanging in the air between them.

She decides to bite.

“Fine, I usually just come up to them and ask for their name.”

“You gonna ask for mine?”

“I unfortunately know it,”

“Oh come on,” he says with that never ending grin, “try me.”

“Fine,” she prepares herself, turning away from him to set the scene before looking back at him with a flirtatious smile, “what’s your name?”

“Whatever you want it to be,”

“Funny,” she deadpans.

He is satisfied with himself if his posture is anything to go off of, taking a proud sip of his drink. She sighs and decides to continue.

“That’s pretty much all I do, I just give them a look and I’m set for the night.”

“A look,” He perks up in curiosity, “do tell.”

“You know, ‘fuck me eyes,’”

“I’m not familiar,”

“I know you’re not, darling,” she paints an exaggerated frown of pity on her face, raising a hand to pat his shoulder, “one day you’ll find that special someone.”

“Christ, just show me,”

“Ask nicely,”

“Just show me,” he hesitates, refusing to break eye contact despite the shame, “please.”

“Wow, you’re committed. Fine.”

He hunkers down at the bar, placing his beer on the counter and leaning on his crossed forearms, “Lay it on me, baby.”

She hums in consideration while sipping the remnants of her drink. Sure, play-flirting isn’t uncommon among them, but Jake seemss…well, fuck, he seems interested. Far past curiosity but not quite at sincerity. He’s toying with her, she knows, and it’s starting to piss her off. She’s made it obvious to him that she’s not one to fall for his tricks, but in truth it was a bold-faced lie. Jake Seresin is a fine piece of ass and he knows it. Damn him.

She’s met plenty like him in her years as a pilot, has even deigned to sleep with a few, leaving relatively unscathed. But she’s comforted far too many heartbroken friends that fell victim to men the likes of him.

She’s a good flirt, too. Good enough to toy with him much more than he is with her. Maybe it’s time for him to learn a lesson.

Stupid games. Stupid prizes.

She sets down her glass with a resolute thud on the hardwood and turns toward him with a swivel of the stool beneath her. She places her elbow on the counter and rests her chin on the respective hand, eyeing him up and down before looking up through her lashes.

“That works on all of ‘em?”

To anyone else, he would seem confident and unshaken. But anyone else wouldn’t have noticed the way his jaw twitched before opening his mouth to spit out a sly comment. Wouldn’t notice the smallest moment of hesitation and uncertain waver of his eyes.

Gotcha.

She nods with a soft smile and hooded eyes standing up from the stool, tilting her chin up and towards him in challenge, “Works like a charm.”

She’s closer to him, and can see his throat bob and hear the slight hitch in his breath.

“What else?” His voice lowers to her volume.

“I talk quietly, so they have to get close.”

He eyes her in question before making a quick glance to her lips. She brings her lower lip between her teeth.

True to her word, he’s leaned in without noticing.

Their noses are almost brushing against one another, his breath is warm on her face and smells of mint. Cocky bastard.

“Then,” she stands on her toes to reach his ear,, just barely brushing it with her lips, “I tell them all the things I wanna do to them if they come home with me.”

She lingers there for a moment to revel in his short gasp and tense shoulders that are now under her palms.

“And that’s it,” she backs off of him with a quick snap into her normal self at a safe two foot distance. Her phone buzzes on the counter, to which she snags it back into her pocket and waves down the bartender to pay for her drink.

His mouth flops like a fish out of water, searching for words that he can’t quite reach before she snags his beer from the counter for a quick sip, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an Uber to catch and a shower to take.”

—

She gets home with a sigh of relief, tearing off her pants at the click of the door's lock. Her phone chimes.

Phoenix

What did you say to Bagman? He looks like a fucking ghost.

Her grin is reflected on the glass of her screen,

Stupid games. Stupid prizes, she types.

[ellie-s-list]

Light in the Darkness (4)

Abby Anderson X Fem!Reader, College AU, Part 4

Since part three was so short I am double posting, so when there is a small journal entry or “thought” chapter then there will usually be a double post because the content was so short.

But I’m not promising anything.

TW: Anxiety, overthinking.

PT. 3 PT. 5

Chapter 4–> Line Without a Hook, Ricky Montgomery, Week 12

Lyrics: “All my emotions feel like explosions when you are around

And I’ve found a way to kill the sound.”

Fuck Max, Tatum, and Bailey. Not literally, but figuratively. Why? Because now you’re in a small club with way too loud music, way too many flashing lights, and way too much of the smell of alcohol induced vomit that could very well be touching every nook and cranny of this hell hole. Of course, you did say yes, so it was partly your fault.

But you were still overstimulated, about ready to explode with anxiety. Tatum was already on the dance floor, dragging Max along behind her. Max was Tatum’s designated ‘gay’ best friend. They’ve always clicked, it’s like they share the same brain.

Bailey was with you, sitting at the bar. She wasn’t drinking, having been the next designated driver in the trio’s rotation. You offered to drive, but they all declined. Maybe it’s because you never went to bars or clubs with them, which was fine. They’ve never been your scene. But Max begged you to go, he felt bad because he thought you felt left out. Even though you explained that you didn’t feel left out, you said you’d go with them tonight.

“You good?” Bailey asked, leaning close to you so you could hear her over the music. Shrugging, you turn to look at the dance floor. There were a lot of people pressed close together, grinding, making out. You couldn’t find Max or Tatum anymore, but someone else caught your eye.

Owen, Abby’s ex-boyfriend. He was making his way through the crowd, stopping to grind on an unsuspecting woman. It was weird, maybe disgusting. Definitely disgusting. You had a weird feeling about him, even when you were bitching at him because of the Red Bull.

“I’m going out onto the floor,” Bailey said, catching your attention.

Nodding, you watch Bailey blend into the crowd. Turning back to the bar, you pulled out your phone. Pinterest seemed to be a good app to get your mind off of the club, cats being your choice of obsession.

“Hey, you’re Abby’s lab partner, right?” A voice too close to your ear caused you to flinch, scaring you from looking at a bright orange picture of a cat.

Turning your head, you saw a dark-skinned girl sitting on the stool next to you. Her body faced the crowd of sweaty college students, but her face was towards you.

“Yeah,” You frown, “Why?” Does Abby talk about you? You would probably be brought up because of her project, but hopefully nothing else would be brought up.

Abby’s friend widened her eyes, “Oh, she didn’t say anything bad, I promise.” She looked as if she let out some horrible secret, her deep brown eyes shifting away. “I’m Nora, I’d like to say I’m Abby’s best friend.”

You raised an eyebrow, not sure why she would approach you out of nowhere. Let alone at a club, and without Abby near. She already knew your name, which was weird considering Abby barely talked about her friends.

“Nice to meet you, is Abby here with you?” You ask, not trying to show your suspicion. It seemed to work, Nora visibly relaxing as she hummed, looking around the crowd.

“She is,” Nora said, “ She arrived a couple hours ago.”

Nodding, you bit your lip, “You brought Owen too?” You couldn’t hide the slight disgust tinting your voice.

Nora sighed, “He’s like the Scott Disick of our group.”

“God he looks like it.”

Nora smirked at your comment, then she pointed at the crowd, “There she is.” You follow the direction of her finger to see Abby. She was dancing with Owen, not seductively, more like she was trying to get away. Nora turned towards you, “I’m going to join them, hope to see you again.” She hopped off the stool, slightly jogging over to her two friends.

After Nora left, the music seemed to have gotten louder. It pounded through your skull, causing a fog in your brain. Looking around for a bathroom, you sighed in relief when you found one. It wasn’t too far away, just on the other side of the bar.

Making your way over, you cupped your hands over your ears to try to muffle the bass. You pushed the door open, surprised at how small the bathroom was. There were two small stalls on your right, a dingy light bulb flickering above your head. Both stalls were occupied, so you walked to the far side of the room, leaning your back against the wall.

As cramped as the room felt, it did muffle the music enough for you to gather our thoughts. You pulled your phone out again, going back to the pictures of cats to distract you from your anxiety. One of the stall doors opened, and you glanced up to see a woman with smeared lipstick and disheveled hair stagger out. She glanced at you, but then turned to pull the door open.

As she pulled the door, she kind of stumbled backwards. Someone was on the other side, pushing the door open. The girl caught herself, cussing as she held onto the stall door behind her. The other girl, who was pushing the door open, apologized, appearing as she walked in.

Abby was the other girl, peering at the drunken one hanging onto the stall door. The drunk girl stood up, glaring up at Abby. She pushed her way past the blonde, calling her a “sightless whore,” as the door closed behind her.

The blonde shook her head, turning away from the door to see you. Her hair was in her signature braid, some stands having fallen out, they were framing her face. Her cheeks were flushed, probably from the hot air from the outside, probably from the alcohol she’s consumed. Her blue eyes were blown wide, pupils almost overtaking her irises. She was wearing a cut-off black tee paired with green cargo pants and brown combat boots.

“Hey,” Abby murmured, a slur hinting at how drunk she may be. If she was blacked out, she definitely hid it well in front of you.

Giving a half-wave, you smile, “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

���In the bathroom?”

“Sure, we could say that,” You laugh, noticing the light dust of pink overshadowing the flushness of her cheeks.

Abby frowned, looking around the dingy bathroom. “Do you want to get out of here?” She asked, placing a hand on the back of her head.

“I didn’t drive.”

The blonde pulled out a set of keys, “I did, but I need a driver.”

With a quick text to Max, you decided to drive Abby to your dorm. You didn’t really have a choice, Abby, having been more drunk than you anticipated, passed out in the passenger's seat as soon as you both got into her car.

The drive back to your dorm was brief. What wasn’t easy was trying to get Abby to stand up to get to the building’s elevator.

The girl was heavy, leaning on you as the elevator rose to the third floor. Abby didn’t smell entirely of alcohol, hints of cedar coming through. Her hair smelled of Pantene, which made some sense. Abby seems like the type to stare at the shampoos, remember Selena liked Pantene, and decide to go with that one.

The elevator doors opened, forcing you to hoist Abby further onto your shoulder as you practically dragged her.

“For how muscular you are, you sure as hell ain’t using any of them,” You grumble, half-dragging the blonde. Thankfully, your dorm wasn’t too far from the elevator, and you made it with minimal casualties. The only one being Abby’s hair tie, which you decided to hate as you vowed never to go back to save it.

Sliding your key card, you push the door open. Abby seemed to have gained a bit of control of her legs, kind of helping you out as you made your way to the couch. Your energy was depleting quickly at the sight of the couch, running on fumes as you dropped her onto it. She landed face first, and if anything hurt, she didn’t show it. Your muscles that were previously screaming at you, seemed relieved as you hunched over.

Turning, you went back to close your door and turn on the main lights. You and Max bought nightlights for the dorm, having both not liking how dark the rooms could get.

Abby grumbled, catching your attention as you made your way back to the couch. She turned over onto her back, blinking languidly. You crouch, taking her boots off.

“Where am I?” She asked as you finished getting her boots off.

You sat on the floor, leaning your back against the couch. Abby dragged herself into a sitting position, rubbing her eyes. She looked confused as she looked around, when her eyes met your face she seemed to have realized where she was. Her name left your lips, but nothing else.

“What?” You ask, staring at her ruffled hair that was quickly falling out of its braid.

Drearily, Abby patted the cushion beside her, “Sit with me.”

Standing up, you sat beside her, turning to face her. She was looking at you, back slightly hunched. You leaned forward, propping your elbows up onto your knees as you rested your head onto your hands.

“You’re so pretty,” Abby murmured, a hand slowly reaching up to touch your cheek.

She was drunk, she didn't know what she was doing. The heat that rose to your cheeks was embarrassing, a direct reaction to her touching you and her compliment. She was drunk, she couldn't be in the right state of mind. Abby leaned forward though, and you didn’t lean away. She was a couple inches now from your face. She had to be able to hear your heart racing, the loud thumping pounding in your ears.

“I mean it,” Abby whispered. “You’re so pretty.” Time slowed down as she leaned closer, her lips bridging the gap as she kissed you. Her lips weren’t chapped, having a minty taste to them. Abby kissed lightly, as if questioning you.

The blonde pulled away, suddenly looking sick. She leaned forward again, but this time not to kiss you. Instead, she puked onto your lap.

Posted on: 4/21/23

WC: 1,732

[bro-atz]

1024UB CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: HE REALLY DID IT!

word count: 2.8k

table of contents ♤ previous chapter ♤ next chapter

Lately, Gyuri noticed that things were starting to get weird between her and Seonghwa as well as her and San. Ever since night Gyuri got stupidly drunk, she and San had not hooked up, and ever since the day Hongjoong had Gyuri record his thesis, she and Seonghwa barely spoke or texted. Sure, they kind of talked at the last ROD party, but they hadn’t hung out like they usually did. Rather than dwell on these feelings, though, Gyuri decided to dedicate this newfound free time she had to work on her thesis as well as start applying for graduate schools.

She didn’t want to run the risk of seeing Seonghwa and that dumb bitch Bora at the library doing whatever it is that they want to do. Since she was pretty much cooped up in the apartment, she rotated between multiple places to get her work done: her desk, her bed, the living room, the dining table, the bathroom— although, that last one was only when she really had to go but she was in the zone. Today, she was sitting in the dining room, her back to the entrance. She had her blue-light glasses on and was furiously typing, but she was still able to hear the door open.

“Hey, I’m home,” Iseul greeted.

“Hey, how was class?” Gyuri asked without looking up from her computer. She could barely converse without messing up whatever she was working on.

“It was okay…”

“Good to hear.”

Gyuri still hadn’t looked up. Her eyes were glued to her screen. That’s when she felt a moment of déjà vu overcome her. She got to a good stopping point in her work and turned around to see Iseul fidgeting in the threshold. “Have we… have we done this before?” she asked.

“What? Done what?” Iseul looked majorly confused.

“I… never mind.”

With that, Gyuri thought Iseul would act normally again and returned to her work, but the girl still fidgeted by the front door. She stopped her work once again and patted the dining room chair next to her while saying, “Sit.”

She obeyed and sat right where Gyuri told her to— she was getting a killer sense of déjà vu, especially when she said, “Spit it out, Iseul.”

Iseul was talking, but Gyuri was still bothered by how familiar this situation was. She wracked her brain trying to figure out where she had seen or done this before, but nothing came to mind just yet. Realizing that she totally just didn’t listen to a single thing Iseul said, she told the girl, “I am so sorry, I completely spaced out. Can you say that again?”

Sighing, Iseul said, “Remember when you told me that someone in the group likes me, and that if he likes me then he should tell me himself, and I told you that I’d react depending on who it is?”

Gyuri’s eyes immediately widened. She fully turned so that she was facing Iseul because every braincell she had was screaming, “Oh my God!” She couldn’t vocalize what her braincells were saying just yet, so Gyuri opted to say, “No way…”

“It’s San, isn’t it?”

“No fucking way!” Gyuri screamed and jumped up so fast that she hit her knee against the table. She held her knee in pain as she sat down again, her excitement unfazed. Now her braincells were talking for her, because she kept repeating, “Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God,” until she could follow up with “When? Where?”

“The other night at the ROD party in the stairwell,” she said with a small smile on her face.

That small smile turned into a huge grin as the two girls stood up and jumped up and down while squealing and holding each others’ hands. There were so many thoughts running through her head. She was so happy for Iseul that this was finally happening, and she was proud of San for being able to do the thing that she couldn’t and can’t do. Gyuri knew that Iseul did not know why she was so excited, but that didn’t matter because they were celebrating this new relationship that finally got the chance to form.

“Tell me everything!” Gyuri sat back down and closed her laptop, her attention fully on Iseul.

“Okay, so after I won, I saw San in the corner of my eye just, like, not having a good time. I saw him leave, so I went after him.”

It took everything in Gyuri to keep from screaming out loud, so she ended up letting out dolphin or dying whale noises.

“He was sitting on the stairs and he looked so serious, like he was deep in his thoughts or something. I tried to ask him what was wrong, but he was being super wishy washy with me, so I kind of gave up and was about to leave…”

“Uh huh!”

“But then he grabbed my hand…”

“He grabbed your hand?!” Gyuri felt like she were watching a drama, only she didn’t see this. She kind of wished she did, though.

“He gazed into my eyes with the most intense look I’ve ever seen him have…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah!” Gyuri knew that look. He’d given her that look in the past, and yes, it makes the heart yearn for more. She could feel her heart beat a little faster just imagining him looking at her friend like that, like she were watching her favorite actor serenade the female lead.

“And then…” Iseul continued.

“And then?!”

“He got all serious and shit and said, “I like you,” in this deep-ass voice!”

Gyuri squealed, more like screamed, at the top of her lungs, and the dog next door started howling. She had to reign it in a little, but she was just getting so excited for her friend she couldn’t keep it in anymore.

“My heart was beating so fucking fast you have no idea!”

“I can only imagine!”

“And my awkward dumbass fucking hugged him and I thanked him? I thanked him for telling me that he liked me? God, I felt so stupid!”

“You hugged him! And then?”

“I leaned in and kissed him.”

“Oh! My! Fucking! God! Iseul! This is fucking amazing! I am really living for this!”

“Bro, but like, let me know why he’s such an amazing kisser! What the fuck?!” Iseul’s face was bright red and her face went right into her palms.

Gyuri had to hold her tongue. She couldn’t possibly tell Iseul that she knows how his kisses and soft his lips felt. She felt her chest tighten up a little bit, but she brushed it off as excitement for this new development. “I’m so excited for you!”

“Oh! Then he said, “Let’s go on a date.” Bitch, I was trembling!”

The word date made her chest tighten even more. “Oh my God, this is so exciting! When is the date?”

“Tonight!”

Gyuri’s heart felt like it were aching— was she jealous that San finally gets to be with the person he wants to be with and that she can’t because the guy she likes is dating a bitch? She distracted herself by focusing on helping Iseul. “Let’s find you an outfit and prepare you for this date!”

While Iseul picked out an outfit, Gyuri got her hair styling tools and make up out. She did Iseul’s make up for her before she changed into her clothes, and God, her friend looked so stunning. She had the cutest pink top with matching grey pants and white shoes. Not to be full of herself, but Gyuri thought she did an amazing job with her makeup— it was subtle but cute, especially with the highlight on her nose and chin, and her hair was flawless. Not a single strand was out of place, and her face-framing bangs were curled so perfectly. Gyuri couldn’t help but take five million pictures of Iseul, not letting the girl finish getting ready. Only when the doorbell rang did Gyuri allow Iseul to grab her purse and get her shit together.

Gyuri answered the door to see San wearing a black striped button up and black slacks. His hair was somewhat styled compared to his usual look— did he use gel?— and if he had glasses on, then he would definitely look like Clark Kent. All in all, he looked amazing. Gyuri’s heart starting beating faster, which made no sense to her because he’s not there for her, so why was she swooning?

“Iseul’s almost done getting ready,” Gyuri didn’t even greet the boy— she went straight to it.

“You know?” San looked surprised.

“Of course I know. She’s my roommate and one of my best friends,” Gyuri couldn’t help but furrow her eyebrows. “Also, why’d you use the doorbell?”

“I felt weird just barging in when I’m here to…”

“Yeah?” Gyuri wanted him to say it out loud.

“Take Iseul on our date. You couldn’t have finished the sentence for me?” San’s ears started turning pink.

“Nah. I wanted to see you sweat,” Gyuri laughed.

“Do I look like I’m sweating?”

“No, I mean that you’re hilarious when you’re shy, and I wanted you to get shy.”

San smiled at that her, but it was different from his usual cheeky smiles when they joked around with each other. Gyuri’s heart started beating a little faster, and she started questioning her health and sanity. Was she dying?

Iseul emerged from her room ready for the date, and San’s smile changed. He was smiling, but he didn’t really look happy. Maybe he was nervous— how could anyone be expected to act normal when they get to go on a date with the person they’d been pursing for ages? She was just overthinking the entire thing as per usual.

The two left for their date, and the second the door closed, Gyuri fell into the chair she was working in. Her chest was so tight, and it was in that moment she realized that she was definitely upset. Was she upset because she was jealous that her friends got to have the chance to date? Because she wouldn’t have her fuck buddy anymore? Did she have to find a new friend to have benefits with? She didn’t know what the fuck to do in that situation, so she opened her phone and dialed Jongho’s number. He picked up after two rings.

“Hey, can we meet?” she asked him

“Okay, I lost count of how many reps you did because you’re going way too fast. If you want to do this right, you have to go slower,” he told her.

“Sorry, Jongho, I’m just…” Gyuri lacked the words to describe how she was feeling in that moment. Angry? Annoyed? Frustrated? Confused? Lonely? Whatever emotion was taking the wheel in her head right now was driving her up the wall.

“If you want me to spot you, then you’re going to have to go slower, otherwise there is no way I’ll be able to rescue you if you just drop the bar on you, which is definitely going to hurt considering that you’re benching almost sixty kilograms,” Jongho sounded worried for her.

She slowed down her reps and let Jongho guide her workout. Hopefully this would help her for the time being.

At some point, Jongho had to force Gyuri to stop working out for the day. He dragged her out of the gym and to her apartment. Gyuri really didn’t want to be in the apartment for the rest of the day, nor did she really want to be there at night in fear that her roommate and San would get frisky. She quickly showered and grabbed a couple bottles of soju before heading up to the roof. She sat on one of the sofas closer to the end of the building to get a better view of the city. The lights around her twinkled as she sat alone and drank her soju by herself.

“What are you doing up here alone?”

Gyuri looked up to see Seonghwa looking down at her with a smile on his face. She held up one of the empty soju bottles and responded, “Drinking.”

“Why are you drinking alone? Seonghwa asked as he took a seat next to Gyuri.

She couldn’t help but scoot the tiniest bit away from him, which he noticed almost immediately. He put his arm over her shoulder and brought her closer to him, Gyuri nearly falling into his chest. Her heart started beating the tiniest bit faster when he gave her arm a little squeeze as he hugged her slightly.

“What’s wrong, Gyu? Why are you drinking alone?” He brought his voice down to a whisper that almost made Gyuri cry.

The problem was that Gyuri couldn’t say a damn thing. She couldn’t tell him what got her so down to the point where she wanted to drink alone because that meant telling him everything about her and San and their crushes.

“I’m not really having a good day,” she lied.

“You should’ve asked one of us to join you…”

“Well, you’re here now, right?”

“That’s true, but if I wasn’t up here in the first place, then you would have been drinking alone.”

“Why are you up here, Hwa?” Gyuri asked.

“I’m meeting Bora up here. She told me she wanted to do a little star-gazing with me tonight.”

Gyuri’s heart fell. She slightly pushed Seonghwa away from her and took another huge swig of her soju in hopes that the alcohol would make her heart hurt a lot less, but it didn’t. Gyuri stood up and said, “Enjoy your night—”

“Come back here,” Seonghwa pulled her hand and made her sit again. He fully faced her as he continued, “Why aren’t you having a good day? Lay it on me.”

With a deep sigh, Gyuri said, “I’ve just been feeling kind of lonely lately. Iseul is never home, you’ve been spending time with your girlfriend, as you should be, and even San has his own stuff going for him now.”

“But all the other guys in the group—”

“They’re just as busy! Jongho with his sport, Mingi and Hongjoong with their music, Yeosang is always living on the computer, Wooyoung is always blowing stuff up and having to redo assignments, and Yunho also lives in the lab with Iseul. I don’t want to bother anyone.”

“Well, you can always bother me. You’re my best friend, Gyu. I’m always here for you.”

The only thing she could do was nod. Seonghwa pulled Gyuri into a hug and held her tightly. Gyuri felt her eyes water up. She closed her eyes to keep her tears in, but one managed to slip out. Seonghwa must’ve felt the tear fall because he pulled away and held her face. He wiped another tear that fell down her cheek off and began to pet her hair.

“You know I love you, right?” Seonghwa whispered.

Gyuri’s heart raced when he said that. Her eyes widened and she couldn’t help but look into his eyes. Just as Seonghwa was about to lean in, they both heard the door to the roof slam open. They looked over to see Bora walking over to the two on the couch.

“Babe!” Seonghwa let go of Gyuri and greeted his girlfriend with a kiss.

After drying her tears quickly, Gyuri stood up and saw Bora glaring at her angrily as she and Seonghwa hugged. To avoid any sort of conflict, Gyuri picked up all of her alcohol bottles, kept her head down, and left the roof.

Gyuri was upset. She didn’t have a place she could go to at this point. She didn’t want to go to her apartment, and the roof was occupied by Seonghwa and his bitch of a girlfriend. Ultimately, she decided to go to the last person who could help her. She entered his apartment to see him sitting on the couch watching a movie.

“Gyu?” He asked as he paused the movie.

“Joong…”

She immediately started crying. Hongjoong jumped up from the couch and ran to her. He took the bottles of alcohol out of her hands and hugged her. She hugged him back. After standing and crying for a solid minute, Hongjoong led her to the couch and sat her down. He brought her some water, which she immediately downed. He hugged her again, Gyuri clinging to his arm.

“What happened?”

“I miss him, Joong. I miss Hwa.”

“I know you do. I’m sorry, Gyu.”

After crying for what felt like hours, Gyuri ended up falling asleep in Hongjoong’s arms. He laid her down gently on the couch and covered her with a blanket before turning off the light to let her sleep peacefully. Gyuri stirred again when Seonghwa returned to his apartment, but she promptly fell back asleep. Well, she fell asleep after feeling something soft on her forehead.

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[slamminslamminmcgill]

@narc69 submitted

hi ok first of all 1) i am so sorry if this is badly written, i started writing and then came to 3 hours later and this was on my page.

2) trigger warnings! intoxication, dubious consent (just to be safe im gonna mark this down as cnc), implied somno, dacryphilia, probably also degradation? just- please take care of yourself and i genuinely sincerely apologize if this is out of line at all. add any other triggers you feel necessary. you can absolutely respond to this privately if you feel more comfortable

3) i don’t speak spanish, google translate is my bitch. mea culpa if the spanish isn’t properly written

—

HI HI HI THANKS SO FUCKING MUCH FOR THIS I LOVE YOU THIS IS AMAZING IVE BEEN ROTATING THIS IN MY MIND OVER AND OVER AGAIN I WILL KILL AND DIE FOR YOU AT YOUR COMMAND 🥺🖤🥺🖤

you didn’t wanna sound like some 50s suburban white guy, but jesus christ, that was a long fucking day.

your body ached, and all you really wanted to do was get high and go to bed, and you didn’t waste any time getting those things done. 

you changed out of your work clothes and grabbed the joint you’d been keeping in your desk drawer. 

there were also pills you’d been saving in the bathroom cabinet and you decided this was a good a time as any to take them. 

anything so long as it didn’t mean having to think. 

-

it was cathartic how the anxiety and tension in your shoulders melted away. the smoke from the joint smelled like citrus and pine and you held it in your lungs before breathing out eloquently. 

it was quiet; only a few cars drove by your apartment complex. crickets chirped somewhere in the background but your head had already began buzzing and you didn’t pay much attention to it. it was nice, the quiet. so much more manageable that being around people all day, the noises of corporate work echoing in your head, like some sort of fucked up lullaby that refused to be quelled. 

a patio door shoved open.

glancing up, you saw lalo salamanca looking down at you from his third floor balcony. you knew him well enough. well enough to know that he was renting his apartment temporarily after finding himself in albuquerque on a “business trip”, anyways. he was nice too. he let you into the building once when you were too drunk to find your keys, and made good conversation when you ran into him in the halls. 

“hey chico, are you smoking?” he called down. you glanced up, scrunching your nose.

“yeah. what’s it to you?”

“you’re smoking and you don’t invite me?" 

"ok well- no one’s stopping you.” you called back up to him. he stared at you for a second, completely silent, then:

“don’t go anywhere." 

a minute later, the front door of the building opened and lalo came walking out. you were visibly already on another planet and lalo couldn’t help but laugh. 

”oh, cosita ingenua.(oh, you naive little thing.)“ he said. 

"what?” you asked him, not understanding a lick of spanish. 

“don’t worry about it. hey- gimme that,” lalo said, taking to joint from your fingers and taking a long drag. you watched him through a haze of brain fog and fatigue. 

“i didn’t know you smoked,” he said. you took the joint back and took your own turn. 

“right back atcha,” you mumbled. lalo watched you, his eyes flickering across your face and hands. for a very brief second, you wondered what he was thinking, but it was almost immediately overshadowed by the buzz still going strong in your head. you zoned out, staring at the ground, head completely empty. 

the joint fell from your hand and landed unceremoniously on the ground.

“awe man…” you pouted, picking it up. it had gone out and you fumbled with your lighter, struggling to light it again. 

lalo hadn’t moved this entire time, and was still watching you failing to light the joint. 

“jesus christ, chico, come here,” he said, taking the joint from you and lighting it himself. “mouth. open. now.” he told you once it was lit properly again. lalo took a lung-full breath of smoke and before you had any say in the matter, he was cupping your face and shotgunning the smoke into your mouth. 

he was so close you could smell him, and he smelled painfully good. like palo santo, and cooking spices, and teakwood. you were almost upset when he pulled back again. 

“woah.” was all that came out of you as a reply.

“you liked that, didn’t you?” he asked, and all you could do was nod. he stepped closer, almost staring you down. “you want me to do it again?" 

without thinking, you nodded.

just like the first time, he took a long drag and blew the smoke into your mouth. only this time, he didn’t cup your face. he laced it through your hair and pulled just gently enough for you to let out the most innocent little whine. 

lalo laughed, having elicited the exact response he was hoping for. he pulled you in for a hug, enveloping you in darkness. his hand was on the back of your head, and it was cold. his fingers trailed along your neck, rubbing up and down and made you feel funny. 

"i think you’ve had enough,” he whispered into your ear, apparently making all the decisions for you now. lalo carefully put out the joint and put it back in the plastic bag you’d been keeping it in, and he slipped it back into your pocket. “how about i walk you back to your apartment.”

-

there was a confused frown etched into your brow and you subconsciously had one hand on the side of the wall to steady yourself. thoughts were blending into one another, and the world had become an incoherent haze. but you felt good. this is what you’d been hoping for- what the whole week had been building up to. 

“maldito, chiquito, how low is your tolerance?” he snickered, walking beside you towards the elevator. 

“not super low. took some pills too.” you told him, pushing the button that summoned the elevator. there wasn’t a braincell coherent enough in your mind to figure out why that was so funny to lalo. lalo was too busy laughing at how easy this was going for him.

“and you didn’t think to share those either?" 

"i didn’t know you were as fucked up as me." 

the elevator doors closed and lalo turned to you. he laced his fingers through your hair and tugged again, a little harder this time, but still receiving the same little whine as last time. he didn’t let go, keeping his hands where they were. 

"you really like that, don’t you?” he asked, staring at you again. his eyes had a sort of weird glint in them, and it made you nervous, but curious at the same time. you wanted more and no part of your brain was awake enough to think about it rationally for more than half a second. 

“yeah.” you whimpered. 

you stopped on the third floor. 

“hey, i live on the-”

“-fifth floor, i know, chico, we’re gonna stop at my place for a second.” lalo said. you sighed, tiredly, your mind already a million miles past the hair pulling. still, physically you felt different. not more awake, god no, but…warm? was that right? warmer? 

you blinked and looked up when you felt someone take your hand off the wall and hold it in his own. lalo was still next to you, holding you close. 

“i’m gonna take good care of you tonight.”

-

his apartment wasn’t nearly as dressed up as yours was. simple furniture, a rug, a tv, but nothing hanging off the walls, no books, nothing special. 

“sorry it’s so dull chiquito, you should see my house down in Mexico, it’s way nicer than this shitty place.”

“you live in mexico?” you asked, high out of your mind.

“si. correcto, coñejito. so smart.” he said, tapping your cheek. somewhere in the depths of your consciousness you knew he was being condescending, but it translated to something very different when it finally rung through your brain. laughter bubbled up from your chest and you pressed your head into lalo’s chest again. 

lalo didn’t waste any time and took his chance when it stared him right in the face. his hands held your head so he could control which direction he wanted your face to point. gripping your hair he moved your head so that your jaw was pointing out to him and he kissed down your neck like a fictional vampire going in for the kill. giggling, you wrapped your arms around his back. 

“vamos a llevarte a la cama, huh? let’s get you to bed baby boy.” he whispered into your ears, guiding you to the bedroom. 

his bed was the most comfortable thing you’d ever lain on, certainly more than your own.

“i thought you didn’t sleep?” you mumbled. he’d said that one. you remembered. he did. you swore…

“yeah but…” lalo replied, shutting the door behind him, “you can use a bed for more than just sleeping." 

finally- finally something clicked in your brain.

"let’s get these off. you don’t wanna sleep in jeans now, do you?” he said, climbing on top of you, virtually pinning you down, undoing your belt buckle. 

he felt heavy on top of you, but it felt good. you made a noise- something else incoherent, and let yourself sink into the mattress. 

“that’s it, just relax. just relax, coñejito. i’ll take care of you.” lalo said, his fingers slipping under the band of your underwear. his thumb brushed along your pelvic bone and you whined. 

clumsily, you reached out to grab lalo’s wrist.

“wait…” you mumbled, the embers of some sort of fear sparked in your chest. your boxers were already halfway down. “wait, seriously-”

“yes, chiquito?” he asked, still inching your underwear off. 

“ ’m trans- i- bro i don’t have a dick.” you told him, the most coherent thing to come out of your mouth in the last hour.

lalo slid your boxers off and threw them on the ground. he spread your legs, looming over you. he laughed at your statement, and you still couldn’t figure out why it was so funny to him. 

you felt something cold part your lips and his thumb, barely touching you, teasing you, rubbed circles into you. you groaned, pushing your head back into the pillows.

“this looks like a dick to me.” he said, pressing harder onto it. you couldn’t help but moan louder, reveling in how good it felt. his fingers found their way into your hole and you gasped, instinctively closing your knees. lalo shoved them open and you felt a harsh slap across your face.

“hey! you keep your legs open for me. understand?” he asked, his voice suddenly serious. 

“okay.” you whimpered.

“next time i won’t just hit you across the face, chiquito. you listen to me.” lalo said, working his fingers back into you. “i see you’re already nice and soaked for me. i guess you’re capable of doing that at least." 

he kept touching and feeling you, pushing his fingers inside of you until you couldn’t hold on anymore. you came all over his hand and liquid dripped off his wrist and…lalo looked furious. 

"im sorry.” you whined, shaking, “i’m sorry i just…" 

"keep your legs open.” lalo said, his voice dangerously soft. you obeyed,  and yelped when he did exactly as he warned early. a wet smack landed hard against your dick. it was swollen and hard and so, so sensitive and you cried out again, and again as he slapped you until he’d decided you’d learned your lesson. 

“you’re mine, and you do as i say. you cum when i tell you to. not before, not after, understand?” he repeated, 

“yes- yes lalo.” you nodded. 

“good.” he smiled, undoing his own belt buckle. “you can be as loud as you want- let the neighbours know how much of a whore you are, just as long as you do as i say." 

his pants dropped to the ground, and wrapping one hand around your throat, he remained punctual and wasted no time pressing himself into you. your back arched and your hands rushed to grab his shoulders once more. you gasped and moaned, not a thought in your head.

"bet that weed’s really getting to you now, isn’t it, baby boy? or those pills you kept talking about? i bet they’re really making their rounds now. get yourself all loosened up, let some random guy two floors down from you blow smoke into your mouth, let him lead you into his apartment, and you call me fucked up? hm? is that how it is?” he asked, fucking himself into you with no hesitation or plans to slow down. 

“lalo…” you groaned, gripping the sheets. you couldn’t even process what he was saying, just that whatever he was doing felt good and you didn’t want it to stop. your high only amplified everything. 

“yeah baby boy? what is it cariño. does it feel good to be fucked by a guy you barely know?" 

"yes, god yes.” you moaned. your dick pulsed between your legs and lalo took his free hand to it, rubbing his thumb up and down it, using your own cum as lube. “get comfortable baby, we’re gonna be here for a while.”

-

you lost track of time far too easily. everything swirled in your head like one big cloudy haze. you fell asleep at one point, and woke up a little while later covered in spit and cum, with lalo sucking you off, swirling his tongue around your cock. 

you think it’s somewhere around three in the morning when lalo finally gives you permission to cum again. everything felt heightened and hot, and your pulsing hole was sore and wet and still full of lalo’s dick. 

“you can let go for me, cariño, i know you have to, you can let go.” he said, and fresh tears came into your eyes at hearing him tell you to cum. 

“please- it’s- lalo-” you slurred. you’d essentially become his fuck puppy for the night. brain completely empty, lalo tearing orgasm after orgasm out of you, until you were nothing but a shaking wet puddle. you didn’t even remember your shirt coming off, but there you were, abdomen covered in lalo’s cum. 

“oh perrito, is it too much? are you gonna start to cry again? are you gonna cry like the whore you are?” he asked with mock sympathy. he slapped you across the face again and kept thrusting into you, or rather- gripping you by your hips and moving you up and down on his cock like some fuck toy you’d buy at a sex store. “i said cum, so you’d better fucking cum.”

his hand was on your dick once more, rapidly rubbing it back and forth. all you could do was scream. 

“there you go, slut, be loud. be as loud as you fucking can.” lalo growled, unrelenting.

“please, please, please,” you moaned, sobbing, though the words meant nothing. “oh fuck- fuck." 

"there you, come for me. come for me now.”

your body obeyed and you clenched the sheets so hard your knuckles turned white. your moan was the prettiest sound that had ever echoed through lalo salamanca’s bedroom. 

“good boy! bien hecho. oh my sweet baby- fuck-” lalo praised, unable to hold it in himself any longer either. he pulled out, shooting onto your face and into your open mouth. “dios mio, nene. that was the best fuck i’ve had in a while.” he groaned, letting the last little bit dribble onto your lips, and like the good little boy you were you reached your head up and sucked off his tip. 

he got off the bed and left the room, leaving you in your own mess. there was a small, wet puddle by your hole, where all the cum had leaked out. you twitched through the last of the aftershocks, and sobbed, feeling so exhausted- so tired. 

lalo came back a few minutes later with a damp cloth in one hand and a glass of water in the other. carefully, he picked you up and held you close.

“shhh-shhh. it’s okay. it’s over now. you did so good baby boy. let me look at you?” he asked, his voice gentle again. you looked over like he asked and found him caressing your cheek, wiping your tears with the pad of his thumb.

“oh baby, you’re still high, aren’t you? are you okay?” he asked, grinning and laughing a little. you smiled through your tears and nodded. 

“come here, let’s clean this mess off you.” lalo said, gently washing your face with the cloth, laying you down on the bed one more time, cleaning up your chest and your thighs. 

“such a good boy.” he hummed, picking you back up. “lets get you some clean underwear, and we’ll worry about the rest tomorrow. ok cariño?”

“okay.” you mumbled quietly, your throat sore from screaming all night. lalo pressed a kiss to your temple. 

“my good boy." 

[jackals-ships]

ive changed my mind Louder Bitching And Also Murder As A Treat <3 <- that is a joke they will be allowed to live im just feeling Emotions and ngl i can't tell if im just being Whiny or no

i don't think im at meltdown level but there's so much lil shit over the past two days so im UPSET and MAD and i Am Going To Throw A Tantrum !! <- is going to sit here and Sulk actually

they bring friends over last minute with no warning (rude) two friends STAY the NIGHT with no warning (even more rude. evil) (people in my SPACE why)

one friend is an ex the WHOLE ASS FAMILY had a falling out with (EVIL)

been told many times !! you share a room it's His Room Too n the walls are Also Thin SO STOP. doing stuff. in the house. please. we know it's An Ask but they agreed (yay) Then Fucking Do It Anyway While We're At The Store And Make Jokes About It (WHY you were supposed to be watching the child not your friend !!) It's Not FUNNY It Hasn't EVER Been FUNNY,

fine. whatever. ex who is now gf again (why) leaves. other friend remains will remain til Monday (WHY) fine. fine. whatever !! fine

make dinner. i have three dinners i rotate through. Dinner Plan. Yay. go back to room bc Changes are Upsetting Still (get momther her plate she got off work late i made dinner late she's Tired i can be nice) come back out for dinner i MADE. two packages. 10 sausages. i have not had food yet (Why. usually they ask bc momther takes left overs for lunch luckily she is off tomorrow but they didn't ASK ANYTHING THIS TIME)

cannot find more sausage in the freezer. have not looked thoroughly but Nothing Else Is Food. Y'know? Y'know,

i contemplate homicide. orange is not my color. the child may live another day,

small edit bc i forgot the child also went "we need to wash my jacket for tomorrow" WE? who is We "oh when you have a load of darks" WHEN I? when you actually. the 11 yr old knows how the washing machine works. Figure It Out

[zeibei]

Hello! If you dont mind, would love to hear your top 5 megaman ships and why! I hope work goes well.

I show up and be like top 5 is all freezeice

But aaaaaahhh I appreciate it a lot anon! Just working the usual nightshift, but getting closer to my vacay and just trying to take it easy!

Here’s my current list (I usually rotate so besides the obvious, its whatever haunts the mind):

FreezeIce: I loveeeeee love love their interaction in Mega/Gigamix so it really did some damage to me. I could talk about it all day, but I love how much of a dork Freeze is when interacting towards Ice and being a fanboy and Ice being his senior. There's a bunch of little interactions between em in the background and just in general in descriptions and in other games. (SORRY I AM TRYING NOT TO TALK TO MUCH ABOUT EM BECAUSE WELL BE HERE ALL DAY)

FireElec: I kinda indulge back on it every so often but I enjoy the interactions between them mostly with that Mega/Gigamix and that with Powered Up. But I can very much see the appeal between them hehehe

10s Polycule: this one is a little bit more trickier to explain since this involves more of an established polycule hell of the mm10 robots brought from the mind of my partner @/pumpmans but i heart big blue bitch

CrashHeat: I like how they are, just like painfully explosive in nature in the both of them so match made in Hell.

Arhghghh I have zero clue because this what I got so, wheeeeeeeee but I don’t mind switching out pairs quickelec and trying other flavours

[merlyn-bane]

🧙🏻 Trick or treat-- what's the writing trope or art technique you want to try someday, but you're still psyching yourself up for?

Happy Halloween!! 🍬🍬🍬

Hmmmm. Very good question!

As far as art goes, I've been wanting to try a somewhat more lineless/less cartoon-ish style, but I'm super intimidated by it because it would be totally reliant on shading/highlighting that I really don't do a lot of right now.

As far as writing--this isn't really a trope, so I'm not sure it counts, but there's a fic that's been rotating in my mind like a rotisserie chicken for a long while that I want to write, but it would end up being super long probably and I think to really pull it off I would have to be a lot more nuanced with a character that...isn't really my favorite.

There was a post going around a while back (fuck I wish I could remember whose it was) about wanting to see stories about Jedi returning to the Order when the war started rather than just stories about them leaving, and I've always thought that it would be a fantastic character and general meta study to explore a universe where Obi-Wan had decided to stay on Mandalore with Satine, but finds that he cannot sit idly by once the war breaks out and decides to don the robes again.

It would probably be end-game Codywan (bc I am who I am, and I'm very interested in the concept of the clones being very why the fuck are they sending us some fucking New Mandalorian Duke to be our general and eventually coming around, because it's Obi-Wan), but it would also be way too easy to fall into that nasty trope where the protag's current spouse is just an irredeemable bitch, especially since she isn't really my favorite character like I said, and I hate that trope, so writing that story would require me to be cognizant of what I was doing and how things were reading pretty much the entire time.

That said, I do also think it would be a very rewarding story if I was able to pull it off, so I probably will give it a try eventually. I'm just really intimidated by it lol.

Thanks for playing, @lttrsfrmlnrrgby!! :))

[boxwinebaddie]

cfpom + 'Za! ( pizza )

YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO alright alright alright alright!

sorry if i sound really excited i'm getting really close to being done writing chapter thirteen <3 ALSO I LOVE THIS ASK SO MUCH OMG

the cfpom definitely get together and do smash tournaments and try to kill each other playing overcooked and mario party ( whoever has marjorine on their team is literally suffering in hell because marj is so bad god bless her ) and like everything in their friendship exists on like a rotating system of payments, barters and favors, no one keeps exact track of dollar amounts EXCEPT FOR KYLE BECAUSE HES INSANE AND A MATH KING. but they have like 'turns' so every week or so they trade off who is buying the pizza and what's on it.

( except for stan who like...is gods vegan angel emphasis on vegan and angel bc hes too nice to make everyone suffer thru vegan pizza so he gets his own and anyone who wants a slice can have one...except for cartman if hes mean to kyle more than three times a kickback...yes hes on a quota...yes he fails every time )

**kenny also had a brief stint of working at dominos and was carrying the team for a while there...even as the brokest bitch...icon behavior

anyways...PIZZA HC TIME COWABUNGA DUDE! *hang loose*

ok starting off...i'd say strong but its weak...i hate you cartman...he is definitely ordering...whatever the equivalent of ordering the arby's Meat Mountain is but for pizza...like whatever the meat lovers man meaty man man meat testosterone surprise special for meaty beefy men is...theres like no sauce or the sauce is ranch based oh my god...the whole butchers shop is on that thing its horrifying

and like i really do not think stan minds at all with meat being eaten around him...but every crunchy boy vegan plant based bone in stans body screams out in pain and revulsion if hes within like five inches of fartmans meaty man pizza...he is like EWEWEWEW!!!! fully gaggin

stan like jumps into kyles lap in horror to get away from it and kyle is half like...thank u for ur service fartman being useful for ONCE...and is half like u are absolutely revolting 2 me u disgusting waste facility

he is also making...too many sexual noises eating that pizza...Jail!

kenny and marjorine are pineapple on pizza TRUTHERS! ( so am i )

like pep!canon kenny is the pina colada chapstick, he is a tropical king! fruity legend! taste buds are immaculate hes ahead of his time

he definitely believes in hawaiian pizza supremacy...but i feel like his go to pizza order is definitely like bacon jalapeno pineapple because he's like...its sweet...its salty...its spicy like its the perfect piece of pizza like he is basically deadpool...i also think he likes banana peppers...i cant say why ( ok buffalo chicken pizza ALSO )

LIKE I SAID HE ALSO WORKED AT DOMINOS FOR A BIT ( kenny having a revolving door of rotating jobs in pep is so funny to me ) and he definitely ate pizza nonstop for months ( did he hold that job that long??? idk??? ) when he worked at dominos he totally got to bring home one pizza a shift so the boys were eating for free for a while...

...BUT I CANT SAY THEY WERE EATING GOOD BC KENNY WAS INFAMOUS FOR MAKING THE MOST FOUL HIGH AT 2AM STONER SPECIAL PIZZA SURPRISES FROM HELL...i dont want to talk about the hamburger pizza he made one time...absolutely horrifying. THEYRE LIKE KENNY WHY IS THERE CHOCOLATE ON THIS BRO KHDSK HEEEEEELP

they were eating...Interesting...thats for damn sure. smh like kENNY!!

marj...ok u know what...i really think she could fuck extremely heavy w a barbeque sauce moment ( take us to the south miss marjorine! ) like one of those like barbeque chicken pizzas with the onions and the garlic and some RANCH!!!!! she is fucking it up!!!!! ( or like even like a white sauce alfredo moment...decadent...beautiful ) and she is using her knife and her fork and everything like a classy lady! she can eat a surprising amount of pizza...everyone is lowkey impressed.

i really do not wanna do kyle this dirty but like...i really do no think he is having any pizza that is not like Cheese Pizza...unless it has extra cheese on it. kyle does not fuck with vegetables that aren't potatoes...also all the toppings on pizza just getting recklessly scattered aggravates the fuck out of his ocd he is like this is a textural and sensory nightmare and kenny is like dude...ily but they can't put exactly ten toppings in a perfect line down the middle...and hes like...they could if they tried...smh...kenny did it for kyle once...kyle said it was the mot beautiful thing hes ever seen...next 2 stan marsh

also he is painfully WHITE he cannot have a modicum of spice or he will die and pass away...but....BUT! he will...OCASSIONALLY...eat pepperoni...but ONLY because stan calls it Kyle Pile Pizza because "it has freckles just like you" and it was SOOOOOOO cute that kyle was like willing to endure that one modicum of spice for stan...true luv

( also i do feel like he puts the napkin in his shirt, turns his head at the exact angle he needs to minimize grease on his face....he did Complex Calculations for it...and does take all the toppings off and stan gets all the little veggies and kenny can have the meat...wow...

....The Power of Friendship...And Undiagnosed Mental Illness <3 )

stan though? ohhhhhhh my god. i feel like whatever their vegan pizza veggie delight ( fartman calls it stan salad smh ) is with like...listen a pesto sauce base moment....ABSOLUTELY FUCKING DECIMATED. kyle is so precise and careful and stan is like CHAOTIC when eating. like all of the ferality he displays w sugar stan channels into fast food ( he is literally a garbage disposal ) its an EVENT! especially if stan is really drunk or really hungover ( which he is either most of the time )

every single sauce is out and every single sauce is on that pizza like the whole pizza is just a vessel for one million sauces. he is like throwing beers back like nobodys business. no napkins he is a nasty nasty nasty boy!!! Digusting!!! shit is FLYING like stan is rollin pizzas into a burrito shape for maximum bite, there is sauce all over his face on his clothes, bell pepper in his hair...ITS IMPRESSIVE AND ITS HORRIFYING SDHLKDS kenny is like clapping and high fives him like a proud dad kyle is so scared hes going to choke and die....cryin...

really all around...as a gang just...incredible work...love them.

-uncle nina <3

[sarrie]

Tagged by @ohbutwheresyourheart! Last song: Wild Horses - Bishop Briggs

Favorite color: I was the red-coded kid all my life lmao and that's still true! But I also love purple, and very specific shades of green, like Phthalo green and seafoam. Phthalo green looks so good with copper/brass I am definitely not planning our future kitchen with these colors in mind.

Last movie / Tv show: okAY SO LIKE. We don't really watch tv series so much - we don't have cable so we mostly watch like. a handful of youtubers we enjoy. That being said!! The last movie I watched was Fargo a few weeks ago, because I remember my mom loving it and finding it so funny (and fucked up) because we lived in Wisconsin for several years and The Accent (tm). As for TV show I dunno if it counts but I watched five himbos watch Attack on Titan on youtube (Studio Gek) because I remembered that series and while I Do Not want to support it in any way, I was curious how it ended/the plot.

Sweet/spicy/savory: Why would you pit three bad bitches against each other like this. I GUESS Sweet, because I would gnaw through drywall to acquire, like, ice cream. Or cakes. Story time: growing up I wasn't allowed to have candies because my parents were so worried about my teeth, so I was ONLY allowed to have chocolate. And my parents never really were into cooking/baking and fruit didn't make it into my diet a lot as a kid (too poor in areas where fruit was VERY seasonal, or was very expensive bc import) and I am now discovering the joys of fruit + sweets. Y'all i love blueberries so fucking much?? lmao. I will say I do love spicy food as well, though. And savory. But like. As a pasty ass redhead I got teased in Colorado a lot for not having a spice tolerance so I decided Fuck That and consumed so much spicy food lmaoooo.

Relationship status: In a relationship for six years. Also mentally rotating several blorbos.

Last thing I googled: 'Chipotle' and I haven't the slightest idea why. OH I was trying to sign into my rewards account lmAO. Before that it was 'Celiacs Diet' because I am waiting on bloodwork to tell me if I have celiacs lmao. (I also have a ton of auto immune symptoms that we're trying to pinpoint and I'm like it's this or lupus or something.)

Current obsession: Y'all I am DEEP. into Undertale right now. Which is hilarious to me. Nothing like rolling up almost ten years late to a fandom. Specifically I am obsessed with Gaster - a character that may or may not exist and is pretty much 100% fandom speculation at this point. Next to that I'm always on some Devil May Cry shit.

Last book: Going to be complETELY HONEST with you here and admit very lamely that it's been a minute since I've read and actual physical book and not, y'know, fanfiction. I do have a list of things I want to read, including my copy of Gideon the Ninth that is sitting on the coffee table. I think I'm afraid to commit because I know I'm going to read it in one sitting and order the rest immediately after. The last book I really remember sitting down and reading (that isn't reptile medical journals) is probably Not Even Bones by Rebecca Schaeffer. I saw the webtoon advertised a lot, read it, became obsessed, and devoured both books 1 and 2 from Market of Monsters.

Looking forward to: Y'all I have no idea lmao. I really want to try and bleach my hair platinum. We finally got a clutch of ball python eggs on the ground, which is exciting, and we're going to maybe try and buy a house? Hopefully?? Maybe??? Also I am tagging @faridahmalik and @stephanweaverofworlds and @kebbige if any of you would like. No pressure! :)