#this was surprisingly a lot shorter than i thought - the whole idea

[kyndaris]

Plot? What Plot?

As someone who aspires to become an author that will someday get on a Best Selling List somewhere in the world, I read a lot of books. While it's not on the level of professional BookTok-ers or those running BookTube channels, I like to think I get through a decent portion of them during the year. Especially when my books of choice are usually 600-page minimum behemoths. AFter all, with the rising cost of books (they're about $24 now in Australia for a standard paperback), I need to ensure I'm getting my money's worth!

However, ever since I joined the bookclub at my workplace, I've been exposed to genres and books I might not have usually thought twice on. Surprisingly, most of them have been much shorter than the books I usually devour.

But the most recent book we've picked is Year of the Locust by Terry Hayes. And, quite frankly, I've mixed feelings about the book. Spoilers ahead for anyone who might want to read this book in the future.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not opposed to spy thrillers. Hell, back in 2013, I even bought I Am Pilgrim after seeing the title being advertised nearly everywhere in the London Underground while I was there third-wheeling my friend and her then-boyfriend's relationship (you know you're close if you can get away with hijacking a trip overseas to see a significant other).

Did I love it? Not...exactly.

Still, I gave it a reasonable 3 out of 5 stars!

Year of the Locust, on the other hand, is a rough 2.5 stars (rounded down on Goodreads in this instance).

And I know you must be asking me why. After all, it's a 600-page behemoth. So, it would be in my usual wheelhouse of books I'd like to savour in just shy of a month.

Unfortunately, while I find the writing and sentence structure decent, my main issue are the characters and the surfeit of plot. This is no A Court of Silver Flames where Nesta and Cassian spin plates in the House of the Wind (and by that I mean the training, the bloody 10,000 step staircase and all the unnecessary sexy times), and the plot, when it is remembered, is scattered unevenly throughout before it all gets rushed through in the last few chapters.

No, no. Year of the Locust suffers from what I like to call the Scarlet Nexus issue. It's where the writers (or writer in this case), think any and all ideas are great and insert it into the story as some sort of twist. And in Year of the Locust, the second half has this in spades: space spores which fast-track human into evolving a white carapace, giving them a 'ridgeback,' and heightening their aggression; an experimental cloaking technology affixed to a submarine that somehow makes it travel through time.

Like, why? Why couldn't this be a separate story entirely?

Also, did you have to power up your villain into some video game bullet sponge? Uncharted 2: Honour Among Thieves this is not. But if you blink, the difference between Zoran Lazarevic and Kazinsky are almost non-existent.

Perhaps my gut instinct at the start of the book should have warned me that Year of the Locust would not go the way I thought it would. Especially as it opened with a completely different adventure with Ridley Kane going up against the Magus (which would later be revisited again in Part 3 - most likely to pad the book out because it added little substance to the whole Ridley and Kazinsky dynamic in any shape or form) to highlight a secret technique the dastardly spy would use against our protagonist, one he would repeat in the final few chapters against Kazinsky.

Another thing that rubbed me wrong was how often Ridley, as he recounts the story sometime in the future, would tell the reader how deadly all his foes were. All the while underselling his abilities as a Denied Access Area spy. Rather, our protagonist is just an ordinary guy who once wished to be part of a submarine crew and has mastery of multiple languages like Russian and Arabic.

The other parts I felt added little to the actual plot were the foreshadowing dreams Ridley has, and which many of the supporting cast attribute to PTSD. Why can't intuition just be that? Did Ridley truly have to emphasise he could hear 'gunshots from the future?' It's not as if he was ever shown to be clairvoyant about other things in his life.

Oh, and don't get me started on how much of the book 'tells' the backstory of all of its characters rather than simply 'showing' it. Did we need to have several chapters dedicated to Kazinsky talking about his childhood of hunting for mammoth tusks? How did it add to his characterisation? Did Ridley really have to exclaim to the rest of the CIA that Kazinsky was expositing to hammer the exact same point home to the reader?

By the time I reached the end, I was praying for the story to end. Especially when typical tropes began being pulled out: like Ridley refusing to go back in time and only did so when his wife (when did he and Rebecca even get married again?) died in his arms. The writing truly could be seen on the wall.

Also, how did the spores manage to travel around the world? How much was on some asteroid ore? And if they could become airborne, why couldn't people get infected after Devil's Night?

All I can say after reading the book was that the author definitely needed an editor. One who wasn't afraid to tell the author to kill his darlings if he wanted to write something that might not have been a complete mess. Or, at the very least, split the plot in half and write them separately with different characters. There was absolutely no need to mush two disparate ideas into one book. Especially given how strange the tonal change would be.

Do I regret that I read this book? A little. There are a million other choices sitting on my bookshelves. And yet, I also think it's important to read books one might not always enjoy. After all, such things help widen one's understanding of taste. If you're lucky, though, you might just find a new genre you'd fall in love with. Or a new favourite author.

While I know some might argue there isn't enough time in our very short life spans to read books you don't like, it's hard to distinguish what you do and don't like without experimenting a little. If one reads only the classics, thinking they ought to like them because of how they've managed to stand the test of time, it may deter them from books entirely. Especially if the writing might be too pretentious or too dry.

Besides, what someone else might like but I might detest is all very subjective. There are many people online who have elevated Sarah J Maas to such heights I'd not be able to reach while leaving other authors, who might be just as good, in the dust.

In any case, I know for certain Year of the Locust isn't quite the novel I expected. While there are some reviewers on Goodreads who love the rollercoaster ride they were presented with, it is this humble blogger's opinion that the story would have been better split into two separate novels. Coupled with a good editor who wasn't afraid to leave certain threads on the cutting room floor, those two separate stories would have been more tightly written and given Terry Hayes the springboard to leap into a wholly different genre.

[innocent-diamond-2090110]

♪ "Still trapped in this endless dream // I don't know where I'm going tonight" ♪

The wait is over! I have been so confused about this whole concept project since the very first announcement came out (i.e. flying poster landed on the sidewalk) about this completely random Jeonghan & Wonwoo duet, but it's finally making more sense with the full MV out. This whole time, all the company SNS updates kept spamming "THIS MAN", but then the title track is actually called "Last Night" (works out for me in the end).

"Who wouldn't want to go with him?" — What a great way to end the prologue before the song starts!

You can hear the guitar in the intro now! Funny how the editors timed Jeonghan's "This silent moonlit night" with him opening his eyes (the literal translation is more like "moon-rising night").

"Nox" is Latin for "night", which fits the entire concept.

It looks like Jeonghan is eating clam chowder based on the color & how he added black pepper to his bowl (just random thoughts).

"It's a PAIN that digs deep" — "PAIN" is in English. Reminds of the awful font where "MAN" was stylized to also look like "PAIN".

"The more it hurts me, the happier I'll be." — OK Wonwoo XD

The transition from each verse/prechorus to the chorus is surprisingly fast (feels like less than a second in between).

Not a whole lot of rapping for Wonwoo, but his 2nd verse is something else... The cartoon lemon reminds me of his juice box.

BLACK & WHITE ANIMATED JxW FOR LIFE! (even if the cameo was short) I can't stop replaying the scene where Jeonghan falls to his knees dramatically at daybreak (i.e. TIME TO WAKE UP) while Wonwoo kneels down slowly & (mercifully) takes JH out of this (miserable) dreamland.

I assume white-shirt Jeonghan is in reality whereas black-suit Jeonghan is in his dreamland. (Wonwoo wears black during the entire MV.) Whoever styled his hair at the very end when he woke up (with the glass of lemonade) made him look like Joshua. @_@

There is LITERALLY NO VISIBLE CHOREO in this MV (& barely any lipsyncing to the lyrics), so you have no idea what to expect for any upcoming performances (which might only be 1 or 2 at most based on current chatter).

Technically, there isn't a 3rd/final chorus, but after the UNIQUE BRIDGE (thank goodness for that) is a repeat of the post-chorus. Both are enough for my expectations!

You get Wonwoo as the MV thumbnail because Jeonghan is already on the teaser thumbnail :D It took me a while to cleanly make this GIF of the animation sequence.

As for the B-side solos, I have very different thoughts about each, but I agree that they both could be OSTs (for completely different drama genres, though):

"Leftover (Wastebasket)": I could play Wonwoo's solo on repeat (genuinely surprised by the ballad theme). The chorus reminded me of "Endless Love" by Jackie Chan & Kim Hee Seon (from their movie "The Myth"). This song could be an OST for a modern or historical drama (just have to slightly modify the lyrics).

"Beautiful Monster": I don't think I can play Jeonghan's solo ever again because it's too bubbly for me (no 3rd chorus = more than a minute shorter than Wonwoo's solo). This sounds like an OST for... a Taiwanese idol drama??? (I'm being as nice as possible here)

Full CD is here on YouTube Music! (I wish there was another duet for a total of 4 tracks to make a maxi single ._.)

[asukamood]

Rule number 2: Never let Blue get jealous

Blue and Dream go on a date, everything is fine until a Dream simp shows up and ruins everything. Since she ruined their date, Blue will simply ruin her day and sense of safety!

I’ve written that while procrastinating which I will most likely bitterly regret but I missed them :(

Anyways, let’s get onto it. Enjoy your reading.

Warnings: A Dream simp. It’s a warning of its own. There’s also Blue acting creepy as hell but is this really worth mentioning anymore?

***

Blue was in an amazing mood today. His smile, which usually didn’t reach his eyes, currently looked so wide and genuine it was almost creepy. His eyes wrinkled with happiness and he couldn’t help but let out a contented hum as he skipped to Dream’s office.

Many heads, filled with curiosity, turned his way when he walked besides the occasional JR employees that would hurry to a certain place. He paid no mind to them though as he was far too busy daydreaming about what good will happen today to care. Plus, he has always liked some attention.

When he pushed the doors to Dream’s office open, his grin widened even more. The other man, usually found endlessly scribbling on a piece of paper behind his desk with a perpetual face of exhaustion and stress, was just finishing putting back some piles of paper in a spare room linked to his office.

As he closed the door to said room, his eyes wandered to the entrance and a small smile made its way on his face when he noticed Blue stepping inside. “Hey.”

Blue waved, visibly pleased. “Hello, I see that you’ve finally decided to put away that hideous jacket.” He looked the winged man up and down, making the latter flushed slightly. He always seems to forget that his boyfriend was shameless, probably capable of doing something as scandalous as talking dirty in public (Dream did hope he wouldn’t do this though.)

“… Well?” He finally let out after a few seconds, raising an eyebrow at Blue’s poker face. Did he mess it up somehow? Did he manage to make himself look even worse than usual? What if he looked ridiculous? He knew that it was a horrible idea to try and give himself a makeover, why did he do it anyways? Curse him for trusting Pinterest outfit ideas, he should have just—

“You always look marvelous but today, you’re on a whole other level.” The yoga teacher approached, standing on his toes for a moment just the time to plant a kiss on Dream’s cheek. “Stop freaking out, you look stunning Angel.”

Dream let out a sigh of relief, smiling at him sheepishly with red dusting his cheeks. “Thank you, you don’t look too bad yourself.” The shorter man chuckled, giving him a smug look.

“I know, I look amazing.” The winged man snorted, playfully pushing his shoulder.

“Anyways, we should get on the move now.” He looked down on his watch to check the time before staring back at Blue. “Ready to go?”

Said man reached out, their knuckles brushing each other before they intertwined their hands, giving a slight squeeze each. “Yeah.” That’s right, after a lot of convincing and Dream clearing his timetable, they were finally able to set a time for a date, which really pleased Blue. As much as he liked spending time with Dream in his office, he liked, even more, being the only thing said man was focusing on instead of fighting for his attention with some sheets of paper.

***

The couple was walking around, chatting peacefully with one another. Because of Dream’s reputation, it was to be expected that heads would turn their way but surprisingly, the winged man didn’t seem to be too bothered by it. Apparently, Blue was doing a good job at diverting his attention elsewhere.

The two of them didn’t plan one thing though. They hadn’t thought of the possibility of crossing paths with a certain kind of… Dream’s “fans”. Fans who had enough nerve to come up to them with not very subtle intentions even though the couple wasn’t quite trying to hide the fact they were holding hands.

The one they came across today was a woman in her thirties, going by the name of Laura Itami. She was known for being a journalist writing about Dream especially and the actions he conducted and so. It was a secret for no one that she was… obsessed with the said man and would probably be capable of selling her soul if it meant getting a chance to interview him in person.

So of course, when she caught a glimpse of Dream’s wings in the distance, she couldn’t help but want to approach him. Being courageous (or dumb?) enough, she didn’t think about it twice and sprinted towards him, ignoring the man the radiant was holding hands with. Hell, she might have not even noticed his presence because of how focused she was on the winged man.

Blue was saying something as Dream listened with a smile, nodding occasionally to show that he was indeed paying attention and not pretending to. He was clueless about the woman walking dangerously close to him until said one stopped a few inches from him, tapping on his shoulder to get his attention.

At that, both guys turned around, stopping their conversation to look at who had the audacity to interrupt their date. She talked excitedly to Dream, still ignoring Blue, squealing like a high school girl whenever he would reply to something, even if it were to tell her to politely go away.

Then she had stepped closer, shifting the conversation to something more personal which Dream clearly did not like at all. He looked away nervously, the frequency with which he told her to leave him alone increasing rapidly. She didn’t though, refusing to take a hint.

With his status, he couldn’t be seen being rude or disrespectful to a civilian because the backlash from the media he was going to get would be disastrous and Blue knew more than anyone else how anxious he was about that. Still, the way that girl was talking to him annoyed Blue to no end.

First, she interrupted their very awaited date. Then, she refused to acknowledge his existence. Finally, she was stealing Dream’s attention, and to top it all, she was making him uncomfortable. If Dream couldn’t tell her off, he was going to and sooner than one might expect if it kept going like that.

She was already on very thin ice but then, she made a comment about Dream’s current outfit and looked at him with a certain… insistence. That got Blue’s mood to worsen: he was getting jealous.

He wrapped his free arm around Dream’s, yanking him in his direction so he wouldn’t be standing so close to that annoying pest. Said bug looked displeased with that, sending a glare in his direction. Looks like she finally decided to acknowledge his presence. It was about time.

She opened her mouth to say something but before she could even begin pronouncing the first syllable, Blue cut her off, a false smile plastered on his face.

“Were you never taught not to touch what's not yours?” He asked with a sickeningly sweet tone that was way too cheerful to be true. “It’s okay, it’s never too late to learn. Who knows? Perhaps you’ll even manage to be pleasant one day.”

The journalist’s cheeks flared up in anger, clearly offended by what Blue just said. On the other hand, Dream was looking at Blue with widened eyes, not expecting him to say something that could get him in trouble. He also had a strange feeling that something wrong was going to happen soon and while he did know Blue hates violence, there were other ways the shorter man could hurt her and Dream had no clue what he was supposed to do if something like that were to happen.

“Do you even know who you’re talking to?” She snapped at him, crossing her arms around her chest and staring at how Blue was hugging Dream’s arm. Blue noticed that and smiled smugly. ‘You wish that was you huh?’ He snickered internally.

“I can make your life a living hell if I wanted to so I would suggest you don’t mess with me, little bo—“

“Laura Felicia Itami,” Blue started, shocking the journalist deeply. “Daughter of Ryan Désiré DuPont and Yosano Haru Itami, you got married to Sarah Viviane Layers and adopted two children with her before she filed a divorce, uncomfortable with the obsessive way you write about the CEO of JR.”

She gaped like a fish, staring at Blue bewildered while colors drained from her face but of course, he wasn’t done yet. “Currently, your children, Louis Ryan Itami and Lily Sarah Itami, both live under your roof and Louis will soon turn 15 this year while Lily’s 18th birthday has already passed in October. You’re currently seeing a man called Victor Honoré Boulet who cannot be weirded out by your obsession as he doesn’t understand nor speak English. Pretty convenient, wouldn’t you say?”

Now, even a ghost would be concerned because of how pale she was. Oh sweet revenge, how fun it was to see her arrogant face fall for an expression of fear instead. “Poor guy, he’s a real honest man and does actually love you.” Blue let out a fake sigh, letting his forehead rest on Dream’s arm. “I wonder what would happen if he or your children were to discover what you did today. Would they be mad? Ashamed to have any kind of affiliation with you? I would if I were in their shoes.”

He stepped closer to the frightened woman, still holding and occasionally squeezing Dream’s hand. “I do know who you are, Ms.Itami.” He said, after a little pause. “In fact, I know so much about you I am pretty much capable of ruining your somewhat normal life in a snap of my fingers. So you should be the one scared of messing with me as your life can go crumbling anytime.”

He sent her one last smile that did not reach his eyes. “Now, if you know what’s better for you, you’re gonna leave us the frick alone.”

As the reporter ran away, Blue turned to Dream, his mood doing a complete 180*. “Anyways, I think we’ve spent enough time here, let’s go back home shall we?”

***

It started to rain not long after they came back and the temperature was starting to drop. Since the heater needed a few to start working properly, Dream volunteered to go get some hot chocolate for both of them. When he came back, he found Blue snuggled in one of his hoodies (that he obviously stole), a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

Upon seeing him, his face brightened and he extended his arms toward him, making grabby hands in his direction. The taller man shook his head in amusement before setting down the cups and joining him on the bed.

Once he did, Blue hurried to sit on his lap, letting out a content sigh when he felt one of Dream’s arms wrapped itself around his waist. They stayed like that for a few, sipping on their fuming cups before Dream questioned him about why he knew all of those things about that journalist.

Not how, he was very much aware that the other would have just told him to guess if he did.

“Before I first talked to you, I did some research about you and that woman kept showing up with those weird articles. So I’ve decided to conduct some on her as well, you never know when it could be useful.” He paused, taking another sip. “The nerve of that woman seriously, she dared to bring an upset expression on your pretty face during our date. Such a crime should be punished by the law.”

Dream chuckled in response. “If it were, then almost the entire world would get jailed.”

Blue pressed a quick kiss on his cheek before resting his back on Dream’s chest again. “I wouldn’t mind being here all alone with you, you’re the only one I need by my side.” It was a whisper but Dream still heard it.

Blue yelped as he felt his cheeks being squished. “Don’t say things like that, I’ll end up crying.”

“What, so I can’t even tell the truth anymore? So unfair.” He pouted but his eyes were still glistening with laughter. Not much more was said after that. The couple simply watched the water droplets racing down the window as they proceeded to finish their cups of hot beverages.

[aurorawest]

Reading update

Just Like That by Cole McCade - 2/5 stars

So I started reading this age gap romance about two professors at a boys boarding school expecting it to be different than the last Cole McCade romance I read. It...wasn't. The emotions are turned up to 11 all the time, from the very first page, and that means there's nowhere emotionally to go. It also felt rushed and like the characters didn't really have room to breathe. So...I might retract what I said about the first Cole McCade novel I read needing to be shorter, because this one was shorter, and it didn't work.

Scattered Showers by Rainbow Rowell - 4/5 stars

Bought this for the SnowBaz story, ended up reading the whole thing and quite enjoying it. The SnowBaz story was definitely still the best though.

Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo - 4/5 stars

In my last reading update I said I wasn't going to read any my Leigh Bardugo books, totally forgetting this one was sitting very near the top of my TBR pile. I liked it a lot, but I have been informed that Hellbent involves a glowing, fully erect demon penis in multiple scenes (and not even for demon sex) soooo yeah. I think I'll give it a miss.

The Gentle Art of Fortune Hunting by KJ Charles - 4.75/5 stars

Drama! by AJ Truman - 4.25/5 stars

Bloodline by Jordan L Hawk - 4.75/5 stars

Wanted, A Gentleman by KJ Charles - 5/5 stars

Oh I loved this one so much. I love when KJ Charles writes books with a twist because I never see them coming. And it's not like the clues aren't there. This is a super quick read but so good. I definitely could have read a full length novel about Martin and Theo.

The Klockwerk Kraken by Aidee Ladnier - 5/5 stars

You look at this book and you think, tentacle porn. And yeah, there's some sex with tentacles. But??? This book??? It kind of wrecked me. It's two connected novellas about trauma, healing, family, memory, love...really really good. Highly recommended.

Pack of Lies by Charlie Adhara - 5/5 stars

And then I read a werewolf book and loved it! Not that I expected to hate this or anything, but I definitely went into it feeling a bit iffy, because werewolves are really not my thing. This book is romantic suspense and really good, and I loved Julien and Eli so much. This is a spinoff of Adhara's other werewolf series, which I want to read, but it's only available as an ebook, and I don't do ebooks.

Seven Tears at High Tide by CB Lee - 4/5 stars

Cute little YA mermaid book. Mermaids also aren't my thing so I liked this more than I thought I would. Much better than Jason June's Out of the Blue, imo.

A Restless Truth by Freya Marske - 4.75/5 stars

Again, my toxic trait is I don't really enjoy reading books about women or f/f romances. But not surprisingly at all, this book was really good. Though, you know. I inhaled all references to Robin and Edwin (of which there were many) and was sorta/kinda more invested in the hints of romance between Hawthorn and Alan. Obvs excited for the third book.

The Rules and Regulations for Mediating Myths and Magic by FT Lukens - 3.5/5 stars

Just Like This by Cole McCade - DNF

Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me. I put this one down before I got through chapter 2.

Never Ever Getting Back Together by Sophie Gonzales - 5/5 stars

I tore through this book in a single day. It was SO funny and sweet. It's considered YA but quite honestly I'd call it New Adult. Or if you don't like New Adult, straight Adult. Sophie Gonzales is the author of one of my top reads of last year, but of course, since this is an f/f romance, I was wary. But ugh, so good. Highly recommend this one.

The Luminaries by Susan Dennard - 5/5 stars

Apparently the idea for this came from the author posting polls on twitter for what would happen next, which is...unspeakably lame, honestly. But the book that came out of it is great. Loved the world, loved Winnie and her family (especially her brother and his boyfriend).

Beguiled by Joanna Chambers - 5/5 stars

Loved the first one, loved this one more.

This Census-Taker by China Miéville - 3.25/5 stars

What was this even about? Pretty sure Miéville was high on peyote when he wrote this.

Nick and Charlie by Alice Oseman - 3.75/5 stars

Picked this up because it was 20% off at Target and was actually pleasantly surprised by how much more adult it is than the series. Then of course started watching season 2 of the series and found it to be as sanitized as season 1.

The Henchman of Zenda - KJ Charles - 3.5/5 stars

He Bears the Cape of Stars from Duck Prints Press - 4.5/5 stars

Glitterland by Alexis Hall - 3.75/5 stars

This is a re-release of one of a novel Hall wrote like a decade ago. It's not a romcom (which I knew going in), but I didn't expect it to be quite so rough. Similar in ways to Paris Daillencourt is About to Crumble, only that was funnier. The fact that he wrote out the Essex accent really grated, but I guess it kind of made sense. My bigger issue with this book was the absolutely shit editing. There were repeated paragraphs, formatting issues, and places where it seemed like there had to be something missing because it made no sense.

The new edition is annotated by Hall, which was pretty fun. Not a bad read, but it's not Boyfriend Material.

Part 2

[l0velyinc]

ooo, i'd love to hear 3, 8, 10, 13, 20 for the ask game. whichever questions you feel up to answering with however many of your stories/worlds you want to answer with because they're all so good ;w;

THANK YOU!! For the questions and my first asks <3

I’ll respond with all my stories, (minus any of the ARPG folders (technically not my lore haha.))

3.) ANY RECURRING IMAGES/ELEMENTS?

Almost all of my stories have similar vibes: found family, animals & biology, religious & cult-y vibes, psychedelics, etc. Specifics include:

. VIAJE : EYES, Diseases & Curses, Hearts, Stars, The Moon & Sun, Tarot Cards, Lots of Birds, Aliens & Cosmic Horror Vibes, Oh and religious imagery… lots of it… too much of it…

. SACRELIGIOUS : Dogs & Cats (obviously), Scars? Scratches?, Trees, Islands, Books, Candles, Calligraphy

. LAKE SHORE DRIVE : 1970’s to Early 2000’s Music, College? Small Town, Rivers & Lakes, Scientific Latin Names for animals??? I dunno like Saturday morning cartoons but with hidden jokes parents would enjoy. And music, lots of music.

8.) WHAT INSPIRED YOUR WORLD BUILDING, IF ANYTHING?

OOOH SO MMUCH!! I wish I could just say: EVERYTHING but I feel like going into specifics would be best!!

. VIAJE: Religion, I love learning about other religions & cultures & traditions! “Anthony Bourdian’s Parts Unknown” was surprisingly a huge inspo!

“Mad Max (Fury Road)” & “The Haunting of Tram Car 015” had some light inspiration to it, the latter of two made me discover the whole Afrofuturism genre, the former helped me realize I wanted this world to be after an apocalypse!

RECENTLY I have been inspired by Jordan Peele & Wes Anderson films, Peele for themes & storytelling, Wes Anderson for well… visuals?? Colors??? The obvious stuff.

. SACRELIGIOUS : I watched a youtube video about the genre of talking animal books. Ones like Plague Dogs, Watership Down, Warrior Cats, & Guardian of Ga'hoole (for clarification: I have read none of these books…)

BUT I did end up liking the youtube video and I do intend on actually reading these types of books… But that’s the main inspo behind this world. Animals can talk to each other, they are confused about human lore, and they read the bible- oh no-

this one is also based on religious themes (less so than Viaje, ironically)

. LAKE SHORE DRIVE : Look, I watch Zootopia once and hear me out- I LOVE worlds with talking animals so any world with talking animals is an inspo here: Sing, Robin Hood, Spongebob, (and very very very very minor inspo includes: Smiling Friends & Bojack Horseman…again very small amount)

Also did I mention 70s to 2000s music?

10.) IF YOUR STORY IS TITLED, WHY DID YOU CHOOSE THAT TITLE?

. VIAJE : This one has been through SO many changes. GLORIOUS would technically be its “true” name, it’s the name of the overall lore Viaje takes place in. It was inspired by both a song lyric & from a show I was watching where it was just part of the dialogue. I thought it was a super fitting word!

VIAJE used to call Urban Renaissance, but I couldn’t find a good way to shorter it (don’t like long names) so I had called it Sacreligious at one point (but again, too long, didn’t fit well), then I looked up words in Spanish (made sense for the lore) and VIAJE just sounded perfect (it is “Journey” in Spanish),

I could also shorten it to “Via” which still fits. Technically the FULL title is: “Buen Viaje” (“have a nice trip”).

. SACRELIGIOUS : Was originally gonna call this story “GOD” (cause, y’know, dog spelt backwards). But that was around the same time I changed Viaje’s name so… they stole it… I still call it “GOD” for short (or DOG in certain places to prevent questions)

. LAKE SHORE DRIVE : Both the most fitting and most unfitting name out of all of them. Was originally gonna call it “Animalia”, but a few people on toyhouse had the same idea… so I wanted to make something more fitting for myself. And I was listening to the song at the time and uh…. it’s LSD. and I have the humor of a 12 year old.

13.) HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN WORKING ON THIS PROJECT? WHAT HAS CHANGED FROM THE OUTSET?

. VIAJE : Oh since 6th grade I think? Okay technically GLORIOUS was made towards the end of highschool, BUT THEN a few years ago I merged it with a story I loved dearly. So it still technically is the same story I had in 6th grade, although extremely different. The bones are still there! *stare at Eve & Adam*

. SACRELIGIOUS : Lol I think, not even a year? I mean I’ve had bits and pieces for this story here & there, but the complete story I’ve only very recently started writing.

. LAKE SHORE DRIVE : Same age as Viaje. Whoever didn’t fit in that story was turned into a furry and thrown into this small town! (or they just… were always a furry and started here.)

HOWEVER the character of Nora is fairly recent? I always knew I wanted at least one human in the story, but I didn’t come up with the full story of Nora until a year or two ago! In fact, she was named THIS YEAR! Before then, she had many “fake” names.

20.) YOUR OCVERSE JUST GOT A MOVIE TRILOGY (A LA HUNGER GAMES STYLE). HOW HAVE THEY HORRIBLY MANGLED YOUR MESSAGE/THEME SO THAT THE MOVIES ARE NOW A SHOWCASE OF WHAT THE ORIGINAL WAS CONDEMNING?

This is THE best question!

. VIAJE : Any pro-capitalist, pro-controlling religion, pro-patriarchy, status quo following trash. Dear god, if they give Jesus’ dad any redemption arc, make Deja straight, or worse… white wash… I would DIE, like actually. Any merch would kind of go against the vibe too? (there is no currency in their world) If any large studio got their hands on this I’d be MAD.

If it were made into a trilogy… actually that might work there’s a lot of little small stories. But Deja & Jesus would probably only be in one movie. The rest would HAVE to be other characters, those two got one goal and would not span a trilogy lol.

. SACRELIGIOUS : Any life action adaption would kill this story, Old Yeller Style. It would never be trilogy material because this story is extremely short. It’s a very clear beginning, middle, and end. Stretched out like that would make it so unwatchable. 

I feel like, if it were to be really cringe, they’d throw Church into a love triangle or give them a musical number (I’d start crying, for many sad reasons)

I also feel for this story, and Viaje, the religious aspect (like the warning of cults and the negative commentary on evangelical christianity) would get destroyed, which would make me sad as they are both sort of a callout on toxic behaviors in religious spaces I’ve seen growing up. 

. LAKE SHORE DRIVE : There’s no way this could be a movie (or at least an interesting one). I’m thinking this might turn into something like Sing or Secret Life Of Pets? Jukebox musical, pop culture references, family friendly cartoon movie. It’s meant to be a “meh” story, but seeing it produced by a studio would make it extra mid (and thus me extra mad)

Also any romantic relationship for Nora, dear god, the implications. OR WORSE one of those carnivore vs herbivore stories (ugh I can’t take anymore bad racism allegories.) OR EVEN WORSE they have Nora look for her “human parents” (any storyline like that would make me gag, Sadia & Russell will always be her parents and are the only parents that should matter.)

A POSITIVE NOTE:

Thank you for the questions and I can’t wait to finish the profile codes for these stories’ characters so I can show off more lore!!! >:)

[phagechildon]

That Which is Human - Chapter 6

Sorry I couldn't upload for a bit! The holidays were crazy and I ran into some personal problems x.x Thank you @kanamizaki for being very kind and editing this chapter for me~! I kept deleting large portions and they came to my rescue x.x Trigger warnings for this chapter: suicidal thoughts, guns, and someone being shot

Read on AO3

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“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice,” Matoba bowed to his most secretive business partner, his black tie dangling annoyingly away from his body. He couldn’t find himself to care much though. They were lucky he put his black suit on in the first place.

“Of course, anything for the head of the Matoba clan,” the Onabyn, who was the leader of the Yakuza said with a welcoming smile as the two bodyguards on each side of him returned the bow. Last time Matoba saw them, he exorcised two very dark youkai that someone deliberately attached to them; it seems they were still grateful. “What can I do for you, Seiji Matoba?”

“I don’t have a lot of time, so I’ll get to the point,” he said, not sitting down as another guard pulled a chair out for him. “A very powerful ally of mine is being targeted by someone in your group. I need those orders cancelled immediately.”

The boss’s eyes widened in both shock and fear, though Matoba wasn’t sure what the man feared more: the fact that they targeted someone very important to him or the fact that he had to cancel an order because someone outside the Yakuza was demanding him to.

“I-I see, I’m afraid some orders are harder to cancel than others,” the boss carefully said, obviously trying really hard not to upset him. It was kind of amusing to watch him battle against pride and fear as they both knew there was only one right answer. “What’s this ally’s name?”

“Takashi Natsume,” Matoba said as another bodyguard brought a small computer over. The boss wasted no time typing the name in, his eyes filling with confusion.

“You said Takashi Natsume, right?”

“Yes,” he said, disappointed that the boss wasn’t smart enough to put the pieces together. Someone was only useful and worth saving if they had value, which was something they liked to discuss at length. If he considered Natsume to be worth saving, then he should’ve realized the child probably saw youkai too. It seemed like the Boss’s pride was winning over reason. Maybe a threatening push would bring him back to his senses. “His uncle Teppei Hojo is the one who hired someone to kidnap, torture, and murder him. Thankfully for you, he survived unless we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

The boss grew pale at the threat as he gulped nervously, seeming to catch himself. “I agree. If we had known he was such an important ally to you, we would’ve never approved the mission in the first place. I’m terribly sorry for the mix up. As things stand, I see new orders for his nurse to keep him sedated with meds until the therapist and officer gets there to hand him back over to the Disposal Team. But these orders… they’re nearly a day old. The officer and therapist may have gotten to him already.” Matoba’s eye narrowed, his whole demeanor instantly darkening.

“Then call and order them to stop immediately. I will not tolerate this mission progressing any further.”

“Y-yes, of course,” the boss fumbled for his phone, his bodyguards nervously looking at each other, not sure what to do. Against someone like Matoba, who could see and control what couldn’t be seen, they didn’t stand a chance. “Dammit!” The boss cursed as the call went to voicemail, not even bothering to leave one as he redialed. Matoba frowned, having a feeling they wouldn’t answer. “Dammit, pick up the damned phone!”

“Is the Disposal Team the ones that originally took Natsume?” He asked, to which the Boss nodded, trying to get a hold of another person. “Where do they conduct their business? I’ll personally go down there and pick Natsume up myself.” There was no way those youkai would let someone take Natsume, but the Boss didn’t need to know that. However, he was very interested in the youkai he saw in the vision. He could kill two birds with one stone by visiting the person who was ordered to ‘take care’ of Natsume.

The Boss grew a bit pale as he diverted his attention back to the computer. “It’s… complicated,” he hesitantly said. “We have the address, and know the general area, but no one’s ever been able to actually find the place. Usually we have to meet up somewhere in town or at one of our villas.”

They had a hard time finding them? For some reason he had a sinking feeling it had something to do with the youkai. That powerful cat of Natsumes would’ve found him within a day, yet he didn’t. There had to be a good reason behind that.

“Give me the information anyway. If I can’t find it I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.”

----

It’s quiet, he realized as he felt himself stirring again. It hasn’t been this quiet in a while, it was honestly a bit unnerving. Nothing could’ve happened though, not with everyone watching over him.

“Oh, he’s waking up,” he heard a nearly foreign voice comment, making him stiffen. Who was this, and why was he in his room?  

“My my, he was only asleep for three hours this time. Hopefully you guys can ease his mind so he can fully rest again.” Touko said, convincing him to slowly open his eyes. Like the past few times, the lights were dimmed as he saw Touko still standing at his bedside as Detective Oishi and Investigator Akasaka stood at the foot of his bed. Upon seeing his gaze the two smiled warmly, though there was an overwhelming sadness and guilt in their eyes.

“How are you feeling?” Detective Oishi asked, Touko smiling at him happily. Natsume couldn’t help the happiness that swelled in his chest. They listened to him - of course they'd listen to him.

“Okay,” he quietly said, his eyes drifting to Nyanko Sensei who was still in his true form with his eyes closed. Somehow Natsume knew he wasn’t sleeping, which made him feel safer. As long as Sensei was there, he knew everything would be okay.

“Good, then Mrs Touko, we’ll call you back in once we finish,” Detective Oishi said, to which she nodded.

“We’ll be right outside, Takashi,” she reassured as she squeezed his hand, unable to hide the worry in her tired brown eyes.

“Thank you,” he said, feeling a bit sad as she let go of his hand.

When she closed the door behind her, the two moved to where she had been before, their faces growing a bit grim. “We want to be frank with you, especially after everything you’ve been through,” Oishi started, making Natsume gulp a bit nervously. “Protocol wasn’t followed at all. Typically you’re questioned before you’re introduced to a lot of outside people, even your family members to ensure no one influences your statement. Your coma made things a bit difficult, but even so, once you were awake, they should’ve cleared everyone out until the officer on duty was available to take your statement. However, the officers assigned to you never took a statement and, from what I’ve heard, weren’t really here at all. After doing some digging, we learned they were part of the Yakuza.” Natsume felt his heart stop as he clenched the bedsheets, fear coursing through him. Those guards had been members of the Yakuza the whole time??

Lightning lit up the sky as thunder shook the ground. Natsume felt his eyes widen in terror as his whole body locked up, letting his bare swollen feet sink in the runny mud. A loud squeak to his right snapped him back into reality as a weight pulled on his right hand, nearly knocking him off balance. His eyes quickly focused on the small child who was nearly as horribly beat as he was.  

“A-are you okay?” His shaky voice managed to ask. The child opened his mouth, thunder echoing with his lips. Natsume felt his heart quicken, his own lips trembling with his soaked and bloody body.

‘Lightning is worse, you know.’

No - he couldn’t freeze up here, not when this child’s life was literally in his hands. The chances of lightning hitting him while down on the ground was significantly less than when he was on Sensei’s back. Someone in his situation had to be truly cursed to incur such wrath.

“I-I’m fine,” the boy whimpered back, those dark brown eyes looking into his with worry. “Are you?”

Natsume felt himself flinch at the question, his face contorting in shock. That was a genuine question from someone who spent the past day or so in hell with him. Any other typical kid would’ve focused on himself, but not Toshiki.

“Yeah, sorry,” he said with a soft smile the rain easily smeared away. “Let’s go.”

Pulling his foot out of the mud, he took another step forward, his heart stopping upon hearing the child let out a short pained cry. Pivoting around, he saw Toshiki leaning on one foot as one of his small bruised arms reached down towards his ankle.

The mud caked skin was turning slightly red and purple, indicating an injury. It was injured before, did he twist and hurt it again just now? Walking on it would only make it worse. If something happened to him, Toshiki needed to be able to escape.

“Stop,” he ordered, seeing the other try taking another step forward. Upon his command, Toshiki jumped, his cautious brown eyes staring into his own. That look of pure terror made Natsume sigh, knowing his own eyes probably held the same expression when he was caught off guard.

Kneeling to the ground, he turned so his back was facing the child. The purposeful knife wounds along his inner thighs were screaming at him, but he ignored it. They didn’t have a lot of time. They weren’t deep enough to make him bleed out. “Get on.”

“Wh-what? No, I-I can walk!”

“Don’t argue with me,” Natsume sternly said, the child instantly going silent. Guilt ran through him as he took a deep breath, trying to come up with a good medium between being protective and stern. “Sorry… we don’t have a lot of time, so let me carry you for now, okay?”

Another clash of lightening and thunder made Natsume squeeze his eyes shut as his arms went stiff, his ears ringing and veins bursting with phantom pains.

Small, gentle fingers against his shoulders pulled him from his shock, letting out a sigh of relief as the child wrapped his arms around his neck.

Right, the lightning wouldn’t touch them.  

Carefully wrapping his arms around the child’s legs, he stood, ignoring the sharp and fiery pain shooting throughout his entire body. The wounds on his back were screaming at him at the top of their lungs, making him whisper a slight sorry as he trudged on.

Everytime he stepped on something sharp under the mud they nearly tumbled to the ground, especially when he stepped on a particularly sharp stick that pierced his skin. Stumbling against a tree trunk, he bit his bottom lip tightly, desperately hoping the sharp pain would subside soon.

A gentle tap on his shoulder made him follow Toshiki’s hand as he pointed at something that was surprisingly close. Squinting through the fog, his heart raced in both fear and excitement.

A gas station - it was a gas station! A tear of pure relief fell past his cheek as peeled himself from the tree, a bright hopeful smile singing on his lips. For once he didn’t fear being noticed by others, not when it mean the humans could protect them.

Pushing through the pain, he made his own path through the woods, his eyes never losing sight of the gas station that was dimly lit up alongside a dirt road. So many things impaled his feet, making him stumble here and there. But it was okay, because they were going to be okay.

There was only one car in the area he assumed was the parking lot, but he didn’t let that dampen his hopes. Taking a deep breath, he looked in the window, a smile blossoming on his face. It was small sure, yet it radiated warmth. There were a lot of memories surrounding this place. Pushing the door open, both he and Toshiki shivered as a burst of cold air came over them, followed by warm air. The child couldn’t help the moan of relief as he relaxed a bit against him, making Natsume smile a bit.

“Welcome-” a young man stopped, a noise of distress leaving his throat. “A-are you guys okay?!”

Natsume looked up, seeing a man who seemed to be in his early twenties with shaggy brown hair and light green eyes staring at them in shock behind the counter.

“We need help-” Natsume managed out, glancing over his shoulder, realizing he should stay away from the windows. “We were kidnapped, they’re probably after us.”

The man instantly grabbed a set of keys and hurried over to them. Natsume couldn’t help taking a few steps away as the man approached, a shadow of fear and doubt casting over his face. The man instantly slowed down, putting his hands up to show he meant no harm.

“I’m gonna show you guys to the back room in case they show up, okay? Follow me.” The man turned and went to the side of the store where there was a door with a sign reading ��employees only.’ Natsume hesitated as he followed a few steps behind, not sure if he could trust the man as he unlocked the door. When it opened, it revealed a rather small cramped looking room with a sleeping bag on a rather small run-down couch. There were pizza boxes amongst others scattered around the messy room.

“Let me get you guys some bandages-”

“Do you have a phone?” Natsume interrupted, the cramped room unnerving both him and the child. There was only a very small window above the couch barely big enough to fit a pizza box through. What if this man locked the door behind them and never let them out?

The man blushed as he quickly fumbled through his many pockets. “Y-yeah, sorry one sec.” Finding it he let out a triumphant smile, instantly calling for help. “Get settled in, I’ll grab some bandages and medicine.”

Natsume glanced back at the room, hearing the other start talking to someone on the phone. “Hey hi, I’m Ryuu Wisteria and I work at the Cube Stop Gas Station right off the high way - yeah, that one. A teen and kid just showed up in really bad condition. They say they were kidnapped.” Hearing he was indeed actually talking to someone, the injured teen reluctantly went into the room, his shaky legs threatening to give out at any moment.

“Imma set you down on the couch, okay?” He forewarned. When the little one nodded, he turned his back to the couch and let go of his feet. Seconds later Toshiki’s grip around his neck disappeared. In an instant his body practically hummed in response as his vision started fading in and out. Blinking a few times, he felt those small hands on his back, shaking him a bit, his voice soft, quiet, and worried. He didn’t even realize his legs gave out, nor that he fell against the makeshift couch. His head ached where it hit the side of the couch on the way down, along with one of his already sore ribs. His chest didn’t feel right as he gasped a few times, the wind seemingly knocked out of him.

“I’m fine,” he tried to reassure, though both knew it was a natural response at this point.

“Are you okay?” He heard the man from outside ask, his footsteps coming close to them, only to stop. “Oh wow, you guys work fast! I see an officer pulling up already," he said to the person on the phone.

An officer already responded to the call? It almost seemed too good to be true. The highway must’ve been closer than they thought.

The door to the store opened just as the man’s tone of voice started to change as he pressed the phone closer to his face, seeming to grow uneasy. “Really? But his lights are flashing on his car and everything-”

“I heard the situation from the radio,” another man’s voice said, making Natsume stiffen. Something wasn’t right, he could feel it in his gut.

“The other two are injured, no? Where are they?”

Natsume quietly stood, motioning for Toshiki to hid under one of the larger boxes in the room. The child looked uneasy, his terrified brown eyes seeking comfort and protection with him - both of which he knew he couldn’t provide.

“I-I’m sorry sir, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the clerk said, as Natsume knelled at the corner of the doorway, seeing everything happen through a reflection on the ceiling. There was a police officer standing in front of the clerk with his hands on his hips, glowering at the man who seemed scared for his life.

“Are you serious? You’re on the phone with the station now!” He spat. “Hang up, the chief knows I’m here.”

“He does?” Ryuu asked, lowering the phone slowly, as if not sure. “They ran into the forest just now. They didn’t trust me and thought I was working for their kidnappers.”

The officer’s posture fell, those hands sliding off his hips. “Oh? What direction did they go?”

“Up the road,” the clerk said, pointing in the opposite direction they came.  

“Thank you for the valuable information,” the police officer said, Ryuu’s eyes widening in complete disbelief. Natsume felt his heart stop in his chest, hardly able to grasp what he was seeing.

The officer had a gun pointed at the clerk’s head, the man that had been so thoughtful and protective moments ago. He barely even had a chance to take a deep breath as a shot rang out, red spraying in the reflection.

He shot him - he shot him in the head. The haunting hollow sound of Ryuu’s body hitting the floor sucked the air from his lungs, his entire body feeling heavier than lead as hopelessness settled in.

This was a police officer, they were supposed to be safe from their captures with him! Who could they turn to if they couldn’t trust the police?!

“Wow, you two got a pretty good kid killed. I couldn’t even tell if he was telling the truth or not, and I’m usually really good at reading people.” The officer’s eyes met his own through the reflective surface on the ceiling, making him blanch. “Then I saw you at the corner of my eye. Now come out, before I put a bullet through one of your limbs.”

Natsume’s said limbs were frozen in place, his mind still reeling in shock. This officer just killed their hero, what would he do once he came out?! Wouldn’t he just shoot him too?

“You have five seconds before I start shooting!!”

His body acted on it’s own as he jumped up, the adrenaline dulling the pain that wracked his body. The officer smirked upon seeing the reaction, moving his hand so his golden eyes were staring down the barrel of the gun.

Never in his life did he ever think he’d be staring down the end of the barrel with a maniac ready to end his life with a simple flinch of a finger. He’s gone up against powerful dark youkai and gods yet nothing was scarier than this moment. Even if he did what he was told, would the man shoot him anyway? Wasn’t that how humans typically did things?

“You’re turning blue, don’t forget to breath now,” the man laughed. “Now get over here before I run out of patience.”

He didn’t have a choice. Unlike youkai he didn’t stand a chance against a human. His powerful punches were useless on humans, especially against someone who was no doubt trained in hand to hand combat. If he didn’t have so much to lose, he would’ve tried finding a way to fight back, but he couldn't throw his life away anymore, and he couldn’t risk getting Toshiki shot.

“Where’s the other kid?” The officer asked as he approached, Natsume’s stomach rolled as he gagged, the sight of the clerk being far too much, even for him. “Not that your trembling isn’t amusing, but the kid - where is he?!”

Ryuu didn’t deserve this, that kind hearted soul deserved life. It wasn’t just fear that had him trembling, or the pain. Most of it was anger. “The storm separated us, I don’t know where he went.” The officer glowered at his harsh tone as he walked up and pressed the gun to his forehead, the cold metal a foreign sensation to him. This did feel familiar though, like the time Houzuki realized he was posing as Fuzuki to prevent the drought. His face resembled the same stoic expression he bore then, his fear gone.

They stared at each other for what felt like forever before the officer clicked his tongue in annoyance, unable to get a read on him.

The door to the gas station opened, the officer peeling his gaze away as a smirk formed. “You’re fast, Toma.”

Toma - it couldn’t be-! Turning his head, he saw it was true, wanting to do more than scream in frustration. There was no escaping them, no matter what they tried. Not even the god could help him escape, his eyes catching sight of Shirudo whose eyes were closed and head hung low.

“I’m sorry, Takashi. I… have to reveal Toshiki too. You should tell them yourself, so… you don’t get hurt.” The rope was tightening around his head, he could see it at the corner of his eyes, only making him more frustrated.

If only he had the Book of Friends, he could cheat the god’s curse and call for help.

“Please, Takashi. I don’t… want to see you get hurt anymore.”

No - he refused. They could do whatever they wanted to him as long as he knew he didn’t sell Toshiki out. A small smile that held both sorrow and pride came to the god’s face as he flicked his wrist. The box hiding the child suddenly moved, alerting the two adults. The gun was pulled from his face and pointed to the room.

Now he had no choice.

“Don’t shoot-” he said, clenching his fists. “It’s just Toshiki.”

Toma turned to him with a deep fire burning in his eyes. He moved closer, a ripping pain across his chest making him yelp and gasp at the same time. His knees buckled, his hands instinctively going to his chest as he grew light headed. The world around him shifted back and forth as a warmth flooded over his arms.

It should hurt, but it didn’t. Even as he felt himself being dragged, he felt nothing but a deep coldness seep over him.  

He blinked a few times, finding everything darker than before. His blurry vision saw a pair of panicked dark brown eyes staring into his own, his mind slowly registering that this was Toshiki. The child was being gagged, and he didn’t even fight. After what they both just witnessed, he couldn’t blame him. In fact he would’ve encouraged him to do as they said.

“You wanna dump the small one at a beach, right?” He faintly heard Toma ask, his head starting to swirl again. He heard Satoshi answer, but his words were muffled.

Sleep… he just wanted to sleep.

“I’m sorry, Natsume,” he heard the deity whisper in his ear. “If I hadn’t been so selfish, I could've ended my life, and saved yours. I’m sorry, grandson of Reiko.” Something wet fell on his brow, which he assumed was a tear from Shirudo. “The wound isn’t too deep, you’ll survive, but it’ll hurt. Since your life is tied to Satoshi, you won’t be able to die easily, not while he’s still healthy. He’ll keep you alive long enough for help to come. But… just in case someone doesn’t find you, I’ll put a second curse on you, one that’ll keep you asleep until you’re safe-”

“Takashi?” Akasaka called, making Natsume blink the horrific memory from his mind. His hands were desperately clenching the sheets as Sensei breathed against him, his red eyes staring into his own.

“You panicked, you’re fine,” Sensei gently nuzzled his hair, earning a confused sound from one of the detectives. All they could see was his hair being rustled by something that wasn’t there.

“S-sorry, I-I guess... I panicked,” he admitted, slowly looking up at them. “But my friends, they’re in danger! Those officers saw everyone, they even had access to their names and addresses! They could’ve passed the information before they were caught!”

The detective and investigator frowned, knowing they couldn’t provide an answer that would settle his nerves. “If it helps, everyone on your guest list is here except for Shuuichi Natori who went home to get some rest. We’ll talk to the others to implement extra precautions, okay?” Fear still raged in his heart, but he was relieved that these two weren’t undermining him. “Let’s take your statement so you can focus on healing, okay?”

Taking a deep breath, he told them everything. He didn’t dare meet their eyes, he just stared at the sheets as he spoke with a slight tremble in his body and voice. They were recording him, thank gods. This way they wouldn’t make him repeat what he said. Sensei even remained strangely quiet, not saying a word as he finished. Recalling everything that happened made him feel both sick to his stomach and light headed.

“Is there anything else you can remember?” Oishi asked, both seeming horribly unnerved after learning of Toshiki and Satoshi.

“No, that’s everything,” he said, making sure to leave the details of the youkai out. The last thing he needed was for them to think some of the reports from his family members were true.

“And you’re sure they didn’t mention what beach they took Toshiki?”

“I’m positive,” he reaffirmed with a deep sigh, wishing he had more information to give them. “I… think he only as a day or two left.” They nodded, understanding the grave situation.

“I remember seeing the news talk about finding someone shot at a gas station, I think it was just outside Shiro Town.” Natsume’s eyes widened, his heart stopping in his chest. Shiro Town? Were they really that close to his parent’s old home and he didn’t even realize it? “We’ll get this to Chief Tsunemori right away. She’ll know the best way to go about this.”

“Thank you,” Natsume said, frustrated with the fact that he was feeling tired again. He hated to accuse someone without evidence, but in his state it was impossible to gather any.  “May I ask a favor?”

“Of course, what is it?”

“Well… I know I’m not in the best condition, but I’m so tired even after the nap. I know it could be my body trying to heal but… I don’t know, I only feel this way after the nurse comes in.” The two went silent as they glanced at each other, their expressions turning grim. Natsume felt a nervous bead of sweat start forming on the side of his face, knowing this couldn’t be good.

“She came in around ten minutes before you woke up and changed the bags.” Oishi stepped forward and looked at the bags on the IV stand, his eyes squinting.

“Odd…” he trailed off as he took his phone out and snapped a picture.

“Wh-what?” The teen nervously asked.

“The label seems as if it was peeled off then put back on.” Very delicately he held his phone in one hand recording his other hand peel the sticker away. There was nothing underneath it though, which made them all nervous. “We’ll look into it,” he reassured, putting the label back on. “I know it’s hard, but don’t ask for pain medication until we sort this out.”

Natsume wanted to say he never even asked for it in the first place, but decided to leave that out. He’d have to try to convince the others that the pain was minimal and that he didn’t need medication right now. Not like it was a big deal considering he was planning on leaving tonight anyway.

“Change of plans. Akasaka, stay here with Takashi until the approved officers get here. I’ll get this over to the Chief.” Oishi ordered, to which the other nodded. Natsume couldn’t help but feel more at ease with the decision, smiling delicately up at the investigator.

“Thank you. I’m… sorry for inconveniencing both of you.”

“You’re not,” Akasaka smiled warmly. “This is our job.”

As soon as Oishi opened the door, he could hear everyone outside go silent. “We’re done, don’t harass him too much.”

Touko and Shigeru were the first ones in, followed by Nishumra, Kitamoto, Sasada, Shibata, Tanuma and then Taki. The fact that everyone was here aside from Natori completely blew him away, making him blush a little.

“Natsume!!” They all collectively cried. Tears fell down Nishimura and Sasada’s cheeks despite their best efforts, making Natsume smile warmly at them. His foster parents stayed along the wall with Akasaka, speaking to him quietly as they gave him time with his friends. This was the first time he actually got to speak to them, even to Tanuma and Taki.

“What took you so long?! We’ve been waiting for you to wake up!” Nishimura cried, not even seeming bothered that he was shedding tears in front of Taki. He was sure he’d hear all about how embarrassed he felt later; in fact he was looking forward to his scolding.

“Hey, we agreed we’d give him a break!” Sasada scolded. “How are you feeling Natsume?”

“Getting better,” he reassured. “I’m sorry to put you guys through all this.”

“Don’t start with that crap,” Shibata’s voice cut in, making Natsume look past his three normal friends to his old classmate, seeing him, Taki and Tanuma all carrying something colorful in their hands. His three normal friends turned, Sasada’s face turning red.

“N-not now-!”

“Why not now?” Tanuma asked, meeting Natsume’s eyes with a warm relieved smile.

“Natsume,” Taki said, making him slowly look at her as Nishimura and Kitamoto moved out of the way. A deep blush burned into Natsume’s face as he saw what they were holding, finding himself in disbelief. “Sasada came up with the idea to fold a thousand paper cranes, so we did, with everyone’s help.”

“I-I just came up with the idea. Everyone helped gather participants,” she blushed, looking away.

“My father, Shigeru, Touko, Ponta, and even Miss Yorie made one,” Tanuma said.

“I did too!” Shibata quickly shouted, which made Tanuma snort.

“There were even people who heard about what happened and wanted to make one for you. A lot of them said you helped them, so they wanted to return the favor,” Sasada explained as she tilted her head curiously. “You know a lot of people, Natsume. There were people of all ages! I had them write their names on the cranes because I couldn’t keep track.”

Natsume’s eyes widened in complete shock as Tanuma gently handed him one end of the paper cranes that were all stringed together. He didn’t even see half of them were still in a big box behind everyone.

“I…” he trailed off, not even knowing what to say as he looked at the first paper crane, reading the names as he went down the line:

Shigeru Fujiwara, Touko Fujiwara, Satoru Nishimura, Atsushi Kitamoto, Kaname Tanuma, Tanuma’s father, Jun Sasada, Akifumi Sugino, Shuuichi Natori, Tamiko, Tooru Taki, Katsumi Shibata, Chizu Sakanaka, Yuriko Ogata, Miyoko Aoi, Ito-san, Tsukiko Yousuke, Takuma Yousuke, Aoi, Kaoru Sonokawa, Beniko, Daisuke Yuki, Yorie Tsumura, Isamu Taki, and many, many more names of his precious friends, and even kind hearted strangers who crafted these beautiful cranes for him.

His hands trembled as tears trailed down his cheeks. So many people... most of them even lived somewhat far away, yet they traveled all the way here just to do this? How’d they even know he was hurt? Why would they use their time to make one and hand deliver it? They obviously couldn’t mail them without crushing them.  

“Sasada organized search parties after the police suggested it, so word of your disappearance spread,” Tanuma said, noticing Natsume’s beyond confused expression.

Always the observant one, Natsume sniffled as he looked to Sasada, finding it hard to believe she was able to keep it together to organize all this. “Thank you, Sasada. I… honestly don’t even know what to say.”

Leaving him speechless made her blush even deeper, but smile even wider. Small tears formed in her eyes as she beamed, trying not to lose herself to her emotions. “I’m the class president, I can’t have one of my classmates disappear, let alone a good friend.”

“She was sooo bossy!!” Nishimura groaned, making Kitamoto smirk. “We couldn’t even sneeze without her yelling at us to take it more seriously. But that’s the most serious I’ve ever been!! There’s just no pleasing her!”

“You should’ve seen him Natsume,” Kitamoto laughed, nudging Nishimura with his elbow as a teasing smirk surfaced. “You wouldn’t have recognized him.”

“H-hey! I can be serious about things!” Nishimura pouted, feeling attacked as everyone laughed, even Natsume. It was cut short when he started coughing, much to his embarrassment. It felt like a lifetime since the last time he laughed so hard, even if it only lasted a few seconds.

“S-sorry, I’m fine,” he quickly reassured with that fake smile. Tanuma seemed to notice it as he frowned, looking worried.

Taki quickly grabbed a plastic cup and let Tanuma fill it with water the staff left for them, holding it out to him. “You should drink some water. Do you need help?” She asked kindly, making Natsume blush. His friends were doing so much for him… how could he ever repay everyone for their kindness?

“I think I got it,” he reassured, not wanting them to yell at him if his wrist did give out. Very carefully he moved his hand up and took the water, surprised that the effort didn’t hurt much. Not too long ago he could barely move his hand from the bed. Was this due to Sensei sleeping next to him? He’d have to thank him for lending him some of his power.

“Oh yeah, we have a bone to pick with you Natsume!” Nishimura pouted, making everyone look to him confused. Natsume unwillingly tensed, hoping it had nothing to do with his kidnapping. “Why didn’t you tell us you knew Shuuichi Natori?! He’s our favorite actor!!”

Natsume let out the breath he was holding, unable to help but genuinely smile. “When I first met him, I honestly didn’t know who he was, so we were able to talk to each other without the fame barrier.” He had practiced the answer when Natori started visiting him more often just in case one of his friends saw them together. “I felt like telling you guys who love him as an actor would be betraying him, so I didn’t.” Speaking of Natori, he knew the other didn’t go home. He probably set off to search for Toshiki and the deity, god, youkai - whatever his status technically was. Hinoe, Chobihige, the Middle Ranks, Kappa, Benio, and Misuzu were gone too. Much to Natori’s displeasure, some probably all accompanied him while others raced them there. For some reason, he was sad he didn’t get to see that.

“I guess that makes sense,” Nishimura pouted, trying to be mature with the answer as Natsume’s eyes fell a little, his body suddenly feeling very light. He smelled the ocean again, but also blood. ‘Hurry… please…’ Sensei opened one of his eyes, snapping Natsume out of his thoughts. For a moment he felt disoriented, almost forgetting where he was.

“Need to rest?” Sensei asked, to which he merely shook his head slightly, grateful for his bodyguard’s cautious watchful gaze.  

“Natsume?” Shibata’s voice came next, much to Natsume’s surprise. The other was strangely quiet, probably feeling a bit uncomfortable knowing he couldn’t say anything about youkai in front of the other three. He’d have to thank him for his understanding later.

“I’m fine,” he reassured, though his smile didn’t reach his eyes this time. When he ‘disappeared’ again, he realized he’d cause them even more emotional distress. Sasada did so much to bring people together just for him, he hoped he’d be back before she could waste anymore of her time.

“You’re not going,” Sensei growled, somehow hearing his thoughts. Natsume merely smiled more, deciding to stay silent.

They’d argue about this later.

“Did you guys bring a game? I’d like to watch you play,” Natsume suggested, hoping to lighten the mood a bit. A hand gently wrapped around his own, making him go stiff.

“You’re shaking,” Tanuma whispered as the others cheered and started fighting over what game to play. Natsume looked down at his hand to see Tanuma holding his, allowing the water in the cup to stop spilling from the sides. “Are you really okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, though let his eyes fall. He was lying again… he didn’t have to lie to Tanuma. “Actually, not really. It’s something I can’t involve you guys with.” Taki and Shibata leaned closer, ignoring the others who were still arguing over which game would be the funnest for Natsume to watch.

“You’re hurt, Natsume,” Tanuma glowered, gently squeezing his hand as if protectively calling him an absolute idiot. “Whatever’s going on, you don’t have to do it alone. You can’t do it alone, not this time.” The other two nodded, looking at him with intense determination.

“I know,” Natsume reassured, giving Tanuma a genuine thankful smile. They deserved to know the truth. “There’s a curse only I can lift, but I only have a day or two before it kills me.”

“Wh-what!?” Shibata quietly choked as the others went pale. They knew there was another curse, Natori explained it could be draining his life force away.

“I have to find the youkai that’s bound to the family that kidnapped me, and no one but me can find it.” “Are you sure?” Tanuma asked, a nervous bead of sweat forming on the side of his face. “What about Sensei or Natori, or even the other youkai that were here earlier?”

Natsume shook his head, hating the look of fear on their faces. “The youkai can’t be found when you deliberately search for it, just as the people who are in it’s sphere of influence can’t be found.”

“Which means… the other kids won’t be found,” Taki said, going even more pale. “Natsume, you can’t go back-”

“It’s the only way,” he said, feeling Tanuma clench his hand even tighter. “The curse allows me to find them. If one of them dies before I find them, then I die. So… I don’t have a choice.”

Nyanko Sensei stood angrily, bringing his face close to his own. “You are not going anywhere, and you are not going to die. Leave it to the others, you need to focus on healing.”

“Sensei-” he stopped though, facing his friend’s horribly pale faces so the others didn't see him talking to thin air. “I have to return their name, Sensei. You know that I’m the only one that can.”

“Return their name?” Tanuma asked, to which Natsume shook his head, not wanting to explain it.

“If I disappear again, just know I’ll be back.”

“How can you be sure you’ll come back!?” Shibata lectured, wanting to slap some sense into Natsume despite knowing it was impossible to avoid the situation.

“Because I have a lot of friends helping me right now,” he reassured. “And Sensei will be with me too.” This time Nyanko Sensei didn’t say anything, seeming almost caught off guard by the information. He was thankful when the others finally came back, Sasada holding Uno in her hands.

“We figured a card game would be easier since the others are board games,” she informed before tilting her head, noticing their pale faces. “What’s with you three? You look really pale!”

“J-just haven’t gotten enough sleep,” Taki quickly reassured. She didn’t seem to fully convince the class president, but she decided not to comment on it.  

“I shuffled these last time, so everyone get seven cards!”

Tanuma slowly removed his hand from Natsume’s as he took the half empty cup from his hand and set it on the side table. “Be safe, and… let us know if we can do anything,” he whispered as he was handed some cards.

Natsume felt horrible for scaring them like this, but it was better than just disappearing again. Shibata kept glancing back at him, unsure about it, but he was sure Tanuma and Taki would reassure him everything would be fine.

Because it would be. He had too many people he cared about to carelessly throw his life away.

They didn’t even finish the first round before he was out, hoping he wouldn’t sleep too long.

----

“Do it!!” Toma’s voice aggressively hissed at Satoshi as he slammed his hand against the wooden table, making the trembling teen jump. “Do it or I’ll do it to you!”

Natsume’s head lulled to the side as he watched Satoshi stare at his bleeding strapped hand in terror. It was locked in a device that removed fingernails. Just moments ago, his father ripped one of them off, the pain temporarily blinding him. He couldn’t help the way his own body trembled, though his dulled golden eyes focused on the other teen. He was shaking and whimpering with a look of absolute horror in his eyes. Those eyes didn’t belong to a killer, let alone someone who loved to hurt others. These were the eyes of a scared lonely boy who was backed against a wall with no way out. If he didn’t do this, Toma would give the child a whole new meaning to hell.

“Do it,” Natsume managed out, surprising both his captures. “I… can take it. Do it.”

Toma let out a demonic sounding laugh, looking to his son then to him. “Isn’t that Noble of you,” he smirked, roughly grabbing his chin and forcing Natsume to look at him again. “But foolish. If you want pain, we’ll give you pain. Do it now, Satoshi. Show this trash how naive his bravery is.”

Natsume glanced over to Satoshi, their eyes meeting even for a fleeting moment as his chin was yanked harder, forcing him to look back at the father.

“Do it!!”

With a choked cry the trembling teen slammed his hand down on the lever, the blinding pain coming back, being even worse than before. This time it felt like something was impaling his finger, forcing his stern determined face to waver. A faint ringing came to his ears as he felt the hand leave his chin, Toma’s mocking laugh making him feel sick to his stomach.

“You need more strength to remove the whole nail at once. Try again!” Natsume desperately wanted to shake his head no, the pain so overwhelming he almost did. The image of that boy’s terrified face came back to him, forcing him to take a deep breath.

He could do this. Pain was only temporary. He’d slip away eventually.

Satoshi rose his hand again, earning a cheer from Toma as the blinding pain shot through his arm and down his spine, the world finally fading to black.

“...-son… grandson, are you awake?” A faint voice gently called, hardly audible above the fiery pain he felt in nearly every nerve in his trembling body and agonizing throbbing in his left hand. “Please wake up, we don’t have a lot of time before they come back!” This voice… ah, it was the youkai, wasn’t it? He could sense it even with his eyes closed, but it’s poisonous aura from earlier was gone. The difference reminded him of the guardians Gen, who was at the cusp of becoming an evil spirit, and Sui, who had been fully corrupted.

Very slowly he opened his eyes, seeing the dirty white mask with a rope around it’s head and the lone red dotted blue eye staring into his own. Relief instantly flooded through the youkai as he let out a sigh. “Thank goodness I thought… well, it doesn't matter what I thought. You don’t have to speak, I know you’re in pain but please just… listen. We don’t have a lot of time.” His voice grew shaky, as if tears were close to the surface.

Despite wanting to say he didn’t have much of a choice considering he was tied up, Natsume didn’t. There was a desperation in the youkai’s trembling voice, one he couldn’t deny.  

“I was born from a shield created by a powerful and talented craftsman who wanted nothing more than to protect his family during one of the wars. However, it was one of his family members that turned on him, the shield - and me -  being unable to do anything as he was betrayed. Grieving over the loss of my master, I gathered what energy I could and fled. I wanted to find a place without humans and war - I wanted to find a place of peace. During my journey, I encountered many different humans, ones with kind hearts, some corrupted, and others in between. Each human I observed slowly restored my faith, and over time I learned that whoever I was with became encased in a protective aura, one that made it impossible for others to find them. As I traveled, humans were drawn to me, as if feeling my protective shield. Youkai started following shortly after, until we found the perfect haven together in a beautiful, lush mountain.” The youkai sighed, his gaze seeming far away and clouded now. “The more people that gathered, the more they worshipped me, the stronger I became. Soon I was strong enough to extend my shield over the entire mountain, allowing those who sought safety a place to call home.”

“There were festivals, so many festivals and parties. There was no violence, just happiness. Youkai helped the humans even though they couldn’t see them, and the humans, in return, gave offerings. It was peaceful times... so… peaceful.” His one eye closed as his posture fell. “Then… someone found us by accident. They weren’t looking for me or anyone else, they just stumbled upon us. When they learned of my power…”

An exorcist, Natsume sadly realized. Of course humans couldn’t leave such a rare and beautiful utopia alone.

“He cheated the system. Knowing he’d probably never find this place again, he had the local messenger send for his friends, not telling them why he asked for them to come urgently. Since his friends held no malice against him or anyone else in my protective sphere, they were able to find us. Shortly after that, chaos broke out. The exorcists sealed away all the youkai in our home as they put a cursed rope around me that bound me to their leader’s family.” Natusme’s eyes drifted to the rope, realizing this youkai really was just like Hiiragi. “If I don’t make sure they succeed, the rope will tighten around my head until it completely crushes me, which is why I couldn’t let you escape earlier.” The teen felt himself tremble a bit in fear, finally becoming aware of the situation he was in. Not only would he have to escape from that man and son, but he also had to escape from this youkai too. Unlike the others, the youkai would hate every second of it.

“So, you want me to free you?” He managed out, his voice scratchy and hoarse, but he didn’t care, not after learning how much this youkai suffered. If that utopia still existed today, he wondered how those people would react to those who could see them. “Your home… sounds like a paradise.”

“It was,” the youkai sighed, his blue and red eye meeting his warm golden ones again. “But my request is more complicated than that.”

“Huh?” He asked, wanting to tilt his head a bit to the side, but didn’t dare risk it.

“Satoshi, Toma’s son… I want you to free him.” Natsume’s eyes widened, recalling how he froze up and silently begged his father not to make him hurt him.

“Toma wanted his son to learn all about the family business so he can become the next heir after turning fifteen, but his wife quickly found out what he did for a living and tried to flee with Satoshi. In his rage, my master killed her and dragged his son back, literally beating the teachings into him.”

As sad as the story was, Natsume wasn’t sure how this story made the youkai want to protect Satoshi, especially after becoming a tainted deity. As much as he wanted to keep the peace back then, the corruption should’ve blinded him to nearly anyone in plight. There had to be more to this story.

As if sensing his confusion, the youkai continued. “My master’s actions only made my hatred towards humans to grow, that is, until one day, a terrible thunderstorm rolled in. Satoshi was sitting on the back patio, staring blankly at a tree with an intense desire to die as he clenched a rope in his hands. I was drawn to his negative thoughts and feelings, and sat down on the patio next to him. To my surprise, the child jumped, but didn’t do anything else but stare. Even if I meant to harm him, he wanted harm to be done to him:

“It’s alluring, isn’t it?” I asked, hiding my trembling voice. It was the first time a human actually looked me right in the eyes. I saw my corpse in the reflection of his hazel eyes that held little to no light in them. Just like me, he had been torn away from his happy life and forced into one where light no longer reflected in his eyes. I couldn’t help but feel a small desire to help the child since I couldn’t help myself.

“What?” The child asked, his voice sounding so fragile.

“Ending it all,” I repeated, glancing back to the tree.

“Oh,” the child responded meekly, becoming stiff beside me. It was obvious he was uncomfortable with the fact that I could read his desires, but it didn’t seem to bother him too much as he pulled his horribly bruised and wounded legs to his chest. “Yeah… it is.”

He didn’t ask who I was or even questioned why I was there. He merely accepted me into his reality, the reality he didn’t want to be apart of anymore. Despite being thrilled that he could see me, part of me grew sad. This human was only a child, yet he already desired eternal rest. There was still so much he hadn’t experienced yet. Was it really okay for me to encourage a child of man to end it all when he had barely lived at all?

That’s when I realized something. Even if the child tried to run away to start over somewhere, I would be forced to stop him from escaping. But would that really be so bad? While he ran free, I’d do nothing but feel the rope bring me long awaited peace.

“I… don’t necessarily want to die,” the child suddenly said, surprising me. “I want to live, I-I want to be loved and cared for. I’m sick of hurting people, I’m sick of being pushed to kill. I want to create life, not take it! But... it’s useless. My father’s friends are powerful - they’re everywhere. I wouldn’t last a day without them finding me. I’d be dragged back and severely punished.” He hugged himself tighter, burying his face into his legs. “At least in death, I won’t have to hurt others, and he can’t hurt me.”

They were mirrors of each other, Natsume realized. Except one was human, and the other was a youkai. Their similarities combined with the storm probably set the perfect conditions that let them meet.

“After that, whenever a storm rolled in, we met on the porch, free to speak our minds. We learned about each other, and learned of our desires. But lately, Satoshi hasn’t talked about his dreams. He hasn’t really spoken at all. When I gathered the courage to ask him what was wrong, he said he had given up on his dreams and looked forward to eternal nothingness: ‘It’s the only thing I can control in my life.” The youkai took deep shaky breath before continuing. “Grandson of Reiko, I cannot help him, nor can I help you. But you can help each other. I know it’s wrong and cruel of me, especially after the hope Reiko gave me, but I refuse to let an innocent human soul end up like me.”

Natsume didn’t even get a chance to ask what he meant as he felt a darkness press against him, merging with his body. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as a pressure settled over every inch of his body.

“I bound your life to Satoshi’s. If he dies, you die, and vise versa.” Natsume’s eyes snapped back open in fear, looking at the youkai in anger.

“As much as I want to help, I’m just a human child, there’s nothing I can really do-”

“There is,” he said, the youkai’s one eye looking off to the side. Natsume couldn’t help but follow his gaze and froze in horror. Staring at them was Satoshi, but it was obvious he didn’t see the youkai.

“If you return my name, I will gain enough power to break the curse. After that, no one will have trouble tracking them down. If you lead the police to the general area, their dogs will pick up the scent of dead bodies and come running. But you have to do it before Satoshi loses his will to live. If he’s forced to kill Toshiki, or you for that matter, it’ll be the end of him.”

“Wh-who are you talking to?” Satoshi asked, his voice sounding so shaky and vulnerable. Natsume couldn’t help but glance over at him, offering a warm smile. It was hard, especially since the other tormented him, yet his body acted on its own.

“Someone who’s very worried about you,” he said softly. “Someone who wants to see you free-”

“Natsume-” Shirudo’s voice interrupted the dream, the images slowly rippling away. “We’re out of time you have to hurry-!!”

Natsume jolted awake, feeling his heart nearly thudding out of his chest. He was sweating, but he wasn’t hot.

‘Killer… I’m a killer!’ Satoshi’s thoughts rang as a sharp pain shot through his head.

Satoshi was hurting himself, he was starting to lose it already-!

“Sensei,” he cried, seeing his bodyguard already hovering over him. Had he been there the whole time?

“I know,” he said with a defeated tone, glancing at the door. “You were dreaming so loudly it flowed into me. I understand now.”

There was so much he wanted to ask regarding that statement, but they didn’t have the time for nonsense. “Where’s the book?” Nyanko Sensei moved his head and grabbed something from under the bed and dropped it on his lap. Natsume blinked a few times, realizing it was one of Taki’s bags.

“The Tanuma kid and Taki brat left and came back with this bag. Tanuma even packed some of his clothes so you don’t have to stay in a hospital robe.”

Tanuma and Taki went all the way home and back just for him? His hands gently opened the bag, seeing the clothes, his new phone, and what looked like a protective charm Taki must’ve carved. Feeling even deeper, his fingers grazed the familiar cover of the Book of Friends, making him smile in warmth.

“I’ll change once we get away from the hospital,” he said, zipping the bag back up. “I’m sure the Fujiwaras will be back any second.”

“They’re just outside the door, talking to the Police Chief or whoever,” his bodyguard confirmed, moving his head close to the bed. “Can you climb on? If not, I’ll carry you in my mouth.”

“I think… you’ll have to carry me, just until we get out of the hospital cause of the machines,” he admitted as he moved down, seeing the machines and devices still attached to him. He unhooked all of them, leaving the heart monitor to remove last. “Okay. One, two, three-”

The heart monitor flat lined. There was a huge ruckas outside, but he didn’t even get to hear it as he was surrounded by a moist warmth. He clenched the bag as tightly as he could in his hands, feeling the wind brushing against him.

‘I’m so sorry, everyone. I’ll be back soon…’

This time, everything was different. This time he had Nyanko Sensei with him and a rejuvenated spirit.

He wouldn’t be caught a second time, and he refused to let himself die. There was no way he’d bring his loved ones that kind of permanent sorrow.

[shoezuki]

piglin techno confusing the fuck out of ranboo hcs

i jus be doin some shit sometimes n then my brain is like ‘hey think a this’ and i been tryin to type this out but my internet is so bad rn i couldnt even Open a new post what the fuck. anywayss. this ran so long. so fucking long

started with ‘i wonder how piglins act’ and now technoblade is doin some shit, ranboo is so confused, and philza is a delighted bystander who is having the time of his life

technoblade is 100% piglin. many people think he’s part human to some degree but hes Completely and Utterly piglin

most assume as much since he doesnt begin to rot in the overworld. but short answer; he’s Built Different

long answer is a blessing of the bloodgod but shhhhhh

techno never corrects anyone or talks about being piglin or Anything. he just doesnt care what other people think and assume. the only one who Knows is phil

phil had first thought it was out of some sort of shame or desire to Hide it but. yeah. no. techno jus doesnt care. build; different

although more Notable piglin traits come to like if he’s close to people

piglins are both social and anti social. kinda. they can be hugely independent, do well without ‘proper’ socialization for a Long while. but they group together for Lifetimes. once piglins find a family or friends and expend Full trust to them. its all or nothing you Cant break them up

how tommy betrayed and turned his back on techno just. its like a physical pain. once he trusted and respected him, the mere Idea of betrayal was nowhere in question. it never occurred to him

philza is now the only person that techno consciously and subconsciously considers him a part of his ‘pack’ (i cant figure out a better term but that one doesnt Fit)

techno never realizes when he acts piglin traits out towards those he trusts. he never does so in company outside of what he considers family. philza notices though.

phil tends to study and research other races and cultures a lot. he’s been around a long while, has met many people of all different backgrounds. he likes knowing and understanding what he can. its just fun too.

it mostly started when he first met techno because he wanted to figure out what the FUCK techno was doing without asking and therefore embarrassing him

but phil knows techno well. and he knows piglins well enough. and he Knows techno doesnt ever seem to be self aware of his more inhuman habits

but Phil knows. and he Notices when techno starts to consider ranboo a part of the pack

First, it’s gifts.

surprisingly, its ranboo giving techno the axe first

he wasnt there to see it. but phil might as well have been present, considering how Horrifically in depth techno ‘ranted’ to him bout it

but techno reciprocates it and Then he really starts to notice more and more

first, it was giving the enchanted apple to ranboo. sure it Technically had been swiped by techno out from under ranboo but it was still Something. techno wasnt one to give up valuables easily

then techno starts ‘complaining’ about ranboos living area. and his eating habits. phil looks away when techno smuggles golden carrots into ranboo’s shack 

eventually technoblade is crafting ranboo a cloak to match their own and he’s freaking out about ranboo’s height and his dimensions and how much cloth he’ll need but he refuses to ask ranboo and phil is holding his head in his hands

(phil forces techno to gift him the cloak in person rather than stash it under his pillow and run like he’d planned. techno bitched about it but after ranboo practically lit up, burying himself in the cloak and thanking techno so hard his throat mustve hurt, techno was so practically purring the rest of the day)

after gifts, its noises. 

techno is seemingly silent. he doesnt speak up much, moves so quietly people tend to jump when he appears. 

in reality, he talks to himself constantly. either when alone or when in phil’s company. philza knows that aspect is the ‘voices’, and also just technoblade’s tendency to fill the silence and wonder his own thoughts aloud

but the snorts, squeels, grumbles, and other sounds he makes without realizing are some phil knows are piglin

its often guttural, a noise he makes in the back of his throat that rumbles and reverberates through his bones. 

itd sound terrifying to anyone, but after years of techno trilling deep when phil enters a room, when he returns from some sort of journey, when he says hello or makes his presence known in anyway, phil realized its more like a greeting. excitement to see him. it became something sweet

long story short ranboo nearly jumped so high his head went through the ceiling when he’d first walked into the home, said hello, and some gruff purr sounded from the techno’s chest

theyd both jumped so hard, stared at each other as if they were trying to figure out what was wrong with the other 

phil was physically pained as he held back his laughter to the point he was crying. that changed the subject to him quickly

it didnt happen again for a while, but phil didnt say anything and just watched. it was too entertaining

techno would make his small squeals between breaths when he remembered something, muttered to himself, snorted and huffed even as ranboo was around

ranboo got used to it. he stopped jumping or even looking confused when techno trilled some sort of deep purr when ranboo would join them for dinner

lastly, techno was tactile

or, as tactile as he could be. techno wasnt touchy even on a great day. he was selective, reserved, would lean into phil or loop an arm over his shoulders but would never say anything about it

phil didnt question it and would just pat techno on the arm without saying a word

but. sometimes. when phil would be gone for a long time, techno would rest the entire weight of his head on phil’s shoulder, practically encapturing him, rumbling and grumbling so harsh it shook phil’s whole body

phil still wasnt certain on this one. he couldnt find much in the way of what it meant. piglin’s tended to stay with their own, and they never reunited after long periods of time because they never would dare to separate for long

 he was kind of guessing here, but the way techno would drop his shoulders and practically melt made phil think he was just missing him and wanted to confirm phil’s presence. 

it wasnt like he complained. it was sweet

ranboo had been gone a while. he was vague on why, or where. phil had a suspicion or two but ranboo kept a lot of secrets

neither techno or phil pried too far, but phil could tell it was disconcerting to techno. he was tense and kept himself almost deathly busy for two weeks

(piglin rarely if ever kept secrets from one another, phil had read once. omitting a few things here and there, maybe. but lying or deception was out of the question)

phil hadn’t been there when ranboo returned. he’d been gathering firewood after techno was insistent they completely top up all of ranboo’s stores

he’d heard the muffled growls techno made as he walked towards ranboos shack, before even seeing him. 

when phil found them techno had ranboo nearly completely obscured in his cape, and definitely he’d have been out of sight if he was any shorter. 

techno’s head was lofted heavy in the crook of ranboo’s neck, forcing ranboo to hunch with arms wrapped tight around ranboo. his arms were pinned. 

ranboo caught his eyes, looking so scattered and tired and confused and maybe even terrified. he might have spoken or maybe he just mouthed ‘help me’ but the gruff purr-like sound techno made was too loud to hear him anyways

philza shoved his fist in his mouth to keep from laughing

later that night ranboo asked phil if techno was going to kill him. phil wanted to scream

even later then, techno had admitted to phil that, yeah, okay, maybe ranboo was growing on him. phil had never felt so violent

[glilboy]

Ateez reactions to finding you reading smut about them: Hyung line

ive had this idea for awhile and even requested it a few times from other writers but..i felt it was time to write it lol

tws under the cut

warning, this piece of fiction contains mentions of somnophilia, slight dom and sub dynamics, and general explicit topics.

Hongjoong:

You had attempted to stay up waiting for Hongjoong, deciding to reread one of your favorite stories in the mean time. Unfortunately that wasnt enough to keep you awake, you ultimately passing out and your phone tumbling onto the floor.

Hongjoong had a feeling you'd passed out since you didnt message him any "i miss you :(" texts after 11pm so seeing you knocked out on the couch was no surprise. He slowly padded over to you smiling softly, then noticing your phone on the floor and went to pick it up for you. He was never the kind to go through your phone but your smart self had no shut down timer which left the fan fiction on display for him.

He couldnt help but be curious seeing paragraphs of text and decided a little reading would do no harm. As he began to read though he felt his gut sweep, in a good way. He was honestly a little upset until he saw his name but when he read his name it was like all of exhaustion disappeared. Luckily he didn't have work the next day he thought to himself.

Sitting down on the couch with a plan he slowly nudged you awake. "Hi dear," he spoked softly with a smirk.

You rubbed at your bleary eyes and looked up at him, "Oh hi Joongie. Sorry I didn't mean to fall asleep." He smiled even bigger at you.

"Thats fine, it helped me find out something fun," he tucked your hair behind your ear. Still waking up you made a small "huh?" before seeing the phone in his hand.

"Oh..." you mumbled, starting to be awake enough to get it. You finally looked at him straight on and saw his signature devilish grin.

He moved his hand to slowly move up your thigh, giving it a small squeeze which elicted a sigh out of you. "Didn't think you'd read stuff like that Y/N, but I guess you're just full of surprises huh doll," the pet name made you shiver, Hongjoong never having used that one before.

"I'm sorry Joongie," you mumbled into your arm, face now red. His hand moving up to cup your core and grind his hand into it making you whimper softly.

"Oh dont be sorry dolly, just shows me that you really miss me."

Seonghwa:

Saying Seonghwa was caring was an understatement in a way. Despite his busy schedule he made it a point to showed he cared in different ways. One thing he always did was if you left your phone out at all he would put it on the charger for you. Small things!

Today though he had come home earlier than usual while you were taking a quick shower. Seeing your phone on the counter he waltzed over setting his stuff down to throw it on the charger even if it wasn't that low. He noticed you left it on, open to a book he assumed enough.Him being the lovely man he is he wanted to read a bit to see what you liked and possibly buy you a physical copy. Written porn with his name in it though was not what he was expecting.

Seonghwa gulped, setting down your phone with his hands shaking and his face now flushed pink. He took a deep breath and set down his bag, running his fingers through his hair now being surprisingly worked up. A part of him felt embarrassed for being turned on by the writing but at the same time he knew you didn't read it for no reason.

"Hwa! You're home early hello!" You ran up to him giggling, now clean and dressed in some sweats.

"Hey babe, yeah we got let out early cause we learned the new choreography fast enough. They asked us if we wanted to do more vocal practice but none of us did," He laughed, trying to shift his legs to hide his slight erection.

"None of you stay late ever," you giggled sarcastically up at him. "Well, I was gonna take a nap. Do you want to? I'm sure you're tired."

He nodded softly and took your hand walking to your guys bedroom talking about your day. He changed himself into more comfortable clothing then joined you in bed, you curling into him quickly. Once you settled Seonghwa felt he could actually breathe, feeling like a middle schooler just for getting more worked up from having you close. He heard your breath settle which is when he shifted away a bit from you.

"Fuck..." He mumbled, having the space now laying on his back to palm himself over his erection. Looking over at your sleeping face made it worse, the piece you had opened having involved somnophilia. One thing he never had the guts to suggest to you despite having such an open relationship.

He didn't notice your eyes flutter open at the movement. You only just fell asleep so you were in no means in too deep. You decided to play it though, closing your eyes and throwing a leg over his waist as if you were just adjusting in your sleep.

He inhaled a sharp breath and bit his lip now mildly frustrated at the whole situation. Mumbling a fake sleepy "Hwa" you moved to straddle the man hearing a childish sigh escape his lips.

"If you keep moving, I swear to god," He mumbled out loud thinking youre still asleep since you had always been a chaotic sleeper.

"And what will you do about it horny kid," you giggled against his neck. You could feel his body tense.

"Go back to sleep and I'll fuck you like your sick little fantasy, how about that hm?"

yunho:

Rain was beating against the window as you cuddled up on the couch with your phone in hand. Yunho was on the other side of his personal office playing video games. It was a chill day but something in the air was setting you slightly off the edge.

Besides the sweet glances and cheesy smiles thrown at each other, your screen was very much the opposite of innocent pure love. Getting indulged in the story you started to zone in, missing some of his looks making Yunho curious as to what your interest was delved into currently.

"Be right back guys," he said into the mic mischievously. Quickly making his way over he slipped the phone out of your hand, this behavior wouldve typically been fine but because of the contents on your screen you gasped and reached out for your phone. "You doing something naughty or do you just like acting suspicious?" he grinned before looking at your phone.

His face feel reading the paragraph of a particularly nsfw scene. You were now sitting up staring at him wide eyed, "yuyu please oh god its not what you think, i think." Silence filled the room, the only noises being the sound of his running pc and the dull chatter of the other boys.

"Do you read this often?" he said out of hesitation and pure curiosity, almost feeling that he violated your private space. He kind of got the gist of it all right away, thankfully for your sake.

"Not all the time but i mean, you are busy yunho," you tried to softly explain knowing this was odd territory.

"Do you...ever want to try it," he says, getting to the end of the page and looking at you.

"I can't say that..none of them aren't, nice," the air was filled with an awkward energy that could suffocate another person if they came in at such a weird time.

The two of you stood there for a second, until he moved towards you and took your hand. He placed it on his bulge and you sucked a breathe in.

"Take off my pants," he ordered, a strange harsh tone to his voice. For you guys there was never set roles, not any dom or sub dynamic but it wasnt vanilla per say so him speaking like this was new. Besides that, you did as he said and pushed your thumbs under the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down his legs.

Silently he took your hand then sat down on his gaming chair, pulling out his large cock. He slipped on his headphones before looking up at you with a shit eating grin.

"Sit down, i can tell youve been dying too babe."

yeosang:

You were waiting for yeosang to come home after a shorter than usual practice, deciding to pass the time by indulging in your secret world. In the midst of browsing your favorite blogs you didn't hear the door open, this event made you learn not to have headphones in when participating in such activities.

Walking in, Yeosang looked around for you and spotted your figure on the couch. He slowly moved near with a secret motive of scaring you when he glanced at your phone seeing a photo of him paired with a lot of writing. Tilting his head curiously he squinted to read the text, reading along with you until his face flushed.

Sucking in a breath slightly he moved back to the door, playing off him just entering. You noticed his figure walking towards you and sneakily turned off your phone and got up to greet him.

"Hey babe, it's nice to see you in the sunlight," you giggled and wrapped your hands around his waist. You noticed him hesitantly wrapping his arms around you, causing you to pull away.

"Hey, whats up? you seem a bit off?" you pouted and brushed the hair out of his eyes, not catching the little blush.

"Yeah yeah babe, I'm fine. promise," he cleared his throat and pulled away, making your heart sink a bit. He practically completely ignored what you actually said.

"No Yeo, I- did I do something wrong? Or just a long day?" you pried knowing something was up.

Shifting awkwardly on his feet he looked up at you, his hair back in his face. "I um, saw what you were reading."

The color drained from your face, mouth slightly hanging not knowing what to say. You thought he was pissed, was going to leave and break up with you but right when you were about to talk he spoke again.

"C-can we do that?"

A moment of silence passed and you looked up at him, your boyfriend who was typically very soft and gentle in bed. Knowing what you were reading was likely pretty heavy in his book, you became worried. "Yeo, I just read it. It means nothing I don't want to make you uncomforta-"

His lips cut yours off and one hand entangled in your hair, his other guiding you to the wall by your hip. Back flush against the way you pulled away after a moment to see his eyes wide and sweat already beading down his temple.

"I've wanted to do that, just didn't want to scare you dear."

[dangoarts]

@marbarmars asked for it therefore fawful brainrot infection time

mention bc haha you paid 1 millisecond of attention to me now i'm gonna bug you

quick doodle separation featuring post bis fawful design concepts

design notes before headcannon infodump the left fullbody is reminiscent of his dark appearance but none sleeve and is kinda like his "i'm feeling especially confident today" fit and the right fullbody is self explanatory

additionally his glasses are now a lavender tint bc of residual dark star corruption adding a bit of red into his normal blue color

✶ After the events of BiS, Fawful did die. However, I really like the idea Super Paper Mario implemented, where characters who died, or "game overed," are sent to the Underwhere, and villains whose games end are basically trapped by Jaydes for eternity. Unless they escape of course. If a prisoner does manage to outsmart her and escape, Jaydes will respectfully let them live another life, knowing full well they'll be back eventually for her to punish ;)

✶ Fawful escaped the Underwhere and wound up getting ejected in the Mushroom Kingdom. He couldn't go back to the Beanbean Kingdom since he was a wanted criminal, and he couldn't stay in the Mushroom Kingdom for the same reasons. Therefore, he hopped a Bonneton airship and completely vanished off of the radar before his old enemies could find him again.

✶ He met up with Midbus again in the Sand Kingdom, surprisingly on a Bonneton delivery ship he snuck onto where he worked as a heavy lifter. Midbus left his job to stay with him, still extremely loyal even after he thought he was dead for years.

✶ Fawful ended up opening a repair shop in New Donk City after attempting to work under an engineering corporation, but quickly grew frustrated at how they "restricted his creativity." He still makes the occasional weapon to sell on the black market for emergency cash (and for himself).

✶ Leftover remnants of the Dark Star still live inside of him. It grants him a VERY weakened version of its abilities, but he can still kick ass in a fight with them. His main ability is creating dark lightning, but he can also summon the portals he used in his boss fight in-game. The portals have to be within his eyesight, however (if you've watched Wakfu, it's kinda like how Yugo's portals work). He’s very bad at controlling both powers, though, with the lightning either being only a singular spark or a sudden explosion of electricity, and the portals rarely teleporting him where he wants to go (has almost died multiple times from teleporting off of cliffs accidentally).

✶ Absolutely adores capes. It makes him feel powerful.

✶ Nearsighted as hell. Cannot see anything without his glasses unless it is inches away from his face.

✶ Has a bad overbite. If he closes his mouth fully, his upper row of teeth will stick out. (ik in-game art lines up his teeth n stuff but SHUTUP fawful with overbite is hella cute)

✶ Loud. Shouts constantly. Doesn't give two shits about what people think of him. Very quick temper. Literally vibrates like a chihuahua if he's not doing something. Absolutely feral.

✶ short king ✨✨ (i have no idea what the average size/mario’s in-game height is i’m not making an estimate but he’s definitely shorter than mario)

✶ I am hitting him with the aroace beam actually, as I do with all my favorites.

✶ Appreciates Midbus's company a lot. Sure it was only strictly professional (as professional as an evil villain with a lackey can get) at first, but he's glad that he has at least one friend. (i cannot see this as a potential ship at all like no way in hell). Midbus helps with his anger issues by listening to him scream-vent and acting as a punching bag since Fawful has no physical strength whatsoever.

✶ Toadsworth occasionally visits him once he discovers he's alive again. This is another whole big headcannon that I never shared with anyone where Toadsworth started this whole villain monitoring thing where he documents and keeps a watch over all of the villains the Bros/Peach/Bowser have faced over the years. They're tea besties.

✶ Those are slippers he's wearing. Not even actual shoes, just straight up slippers that you'd wear around the house while you get ready for bed. He is a fashion disaster and shouldn't be allowed to dress himself. He doesn't go outside of his house/shop often anyway.  

✶ If he and Dimentio met, Dimentio would probably try to kill him on the spot, especially with the headcannon I have where Dimentio's death made him "lose" all of his magic while Fawful's death granted him magic. (lose is in quotations because it's more like he subconsciously forgot how to use it again, kind of like how Zuko "forgot" to firebend in ATLA season 3)

the cinematic universe of headcannons i've built up about connecting the three mario franchises is insane

[slasherhaven]

Slashers with a short curvy reader

The Slashers with a short, curvy S/O:

Thomas Hewitt 

His guilty pleasure is how much shorter you are than him. He feels like it’s wrong but he absolutely loves how much taller he is than you. He loves how he towers over you and you have to crane your neck to look up at him. Normally his height and size is a cause of intimidation with other people, but you aren’t scared of him, you love him, you’re gentle with him. He also likes when you can’t reach things and he has to get it for you, he doesn’t really know why he just thinks it’s adorable.

Adores your curves. He has a hard time not touching you. He just loves having a hand on you, on your hips or your thighs. Your so soft and warm, he can’t help it. Whenever you wear tightfitting clothes, he has to tear his gaze away from you, he is extremely flustered under that mask.

Scared of hurting you. While he loves how much smaller you are than him, it worries him at the same time. He’s scared that he’s going to hurt you. He could crush you! So, he’s very gentle with you and needs some reassurance and encouragement to be a little more firm handed with you at time.

Michael Myers

Finds you adorable and absolutely unthreatening. You’re tiny, and he will pat the top of your head to remind you of that. But he genuinely think you’re adorable, the way you can’t even wrap your arms around his shoulders without him having to lean down.

When you’re angry you remind him of a mad puppy. You can cross your arms, stomp your feet, glare up at him, or shout all you want. You just make him think of an angry Chihuahua.

Loves that he can just pick you up. He likes that he can just throw you over his shoulder or move you out the way when he wants too. And he just finds it amusing whenever you huff about it.

Jason Voorhees 

He’s extra protective over you and extra careful. He doesn’t mean too but he subconsciously connects your height with being fragile, at least compared to him. It could be so easy to accidentally hurt you and that thought terrifies him. He would never, ever, want to hurt you. So all of his touches are very careful and gentle, almost frustratingly so. He gains more confidence with enough reassurance and encouragement though.

Loves your curves. Jason does absolutely love your curves, they were a cause of plenty inappropriate thoughts before he was comfortable with those feelings. But now, he’s not ashamed of his love for your body and you’re aware of it. He loves just resting his hand on your waist, your hip, your a thigh. It’s not even a sexual thing and you know that, he just loves how soft you are.

Brahms Heelshire

Loves how short you are. You’re just adorable, absolutely precious, and he does like how much taller he is than you. He likes just looming over you, giggling at how short you are. It can get a little annoying but it’s not that bad. He thinks it’s cute when you can’t reach things and he likes being the person you ask to get something for you, he loves the praise you give him afterwards even more.

Will drool over your curves. He can be a bit of a pervert but that shouldn’t be surprising, you catch him staring at you all the time. He’s often staring at you, watching you move, but he’s also always touching you. He’s handsy and will grope you almost constantly unless you establish that he can’t just do that.

Bo Sinclair

Tries to intimidate you with his own height. Bo is relatively tall man but seems a whole lot taller when compared to you, and he likes that a lot. He’ll move into your personal space, forcing you to look up at his face, liking that it makes you look submissive to him.

Finds you near irresistible. He likes having a hand on you most of the time anyway but your curves make it almost impossible for him to resist, he often has a hand on your hip. When at home, he likes having you sit on his lap, a hand resting on your soft thigh. As I’m sure you suspect, it never just ends with an innocent hand resting on your thigh.

Vincent Sinclair 

Extra protective over you. He just thinks you’re so precious and he just can’t see you being able to defend yourself against an escaped victim, so he just likes to make extra sure that you’re safe. This also results in him being pretty gentle with you. He’s relatively tall but seems so much taller when compared to you, he just wants to be gentle and loving with you.

Can’t get enough of you. He loves your curves and your body. He’s always sketching them, even when he doesn’t realise it until it’s finished. Whenever he’s touching you, it’s like he’s worshiping you. Just in awe of your body and how you feel under his palms.

Honestly, just loves hugging you. Vincent loves how you fit in his arms, how your head only comes up to his chest, and how he can practically engulf you with his embrace.

Lester Sinclair

You’re the sweetest thing he’s ever seen. Lester isn’t a particularly tall man, he’s shorter than his brothers, and he’s used to most people being about his height, give or take a few inches. You make him look tall in comparison though. He really doesn’t care about his height, he’s never had a problem with it, but he has thoughts on your height. He thinks you’re just adorable. You’re height and your soft curves makes you the sweetest thing he’s ever seen.

Unlocks a whole new protective side of him. Him seeing you as such a sweet thing, and being a person that he loves so dearly, a new protectiveness is awoken in him. Ambrose is a dangerous place and he doesn’t like the idea of you having anything to do with it.

Tries his best to keep his hands to himself. If he had it his way, he’d be touching you all the time, innocently or not. He actively makes sure to stay respectful, until you notice and assure him that it’s okay, that you don’t mind, that you even want him too. Then he will be touching you all the time.

Bubba Sawyer

Gosh, you’re adorable. Bubba likes cute things and you’re just the cutest of them all. All he wants is to love you and be loved by you.

Wants to protect you. The house is very dangerous and his brothers are very boisterous, he just wants to keep you safe from it all. He’s very protective when his brothers are around. Nubbins and ChopTop never mean you any harm but Bubba doesn’t want to risk them dragging you into any danger. His protectiveness when it comes to Drayton is a little more justified I suppose.

Loves cuddling with you. You’re so soft and you fit in his arms so well, he loves the feeling of you cuddling into his chest as he holds you.

Billy Lenz

Cute little piggy. That’s the name he gives you over the phone, more fond and affectionate than what he calls anyone else that answers the phone. That’s because you’re his favourite, you have been since he first laid eyes on you.

Can’t keep his hands off of you. Of course you get a whole lot of perverted comments but that’s nothing new with him, but he also can’t stop touching you. You’re soft and warm and loving, he just can’t help himself if his hands wander!

Loves cuddling with you. You’re soft and comfortable and you fit in his hold so perfectly. Of course, this is the perfect chance for him to let his hands wander over your curves, stroking and squeezing without even realising that he’s doing it for the most part.

Asa Emory (The Collector)

He just has to have you. As soon as Asa sees you, he knows he has to have you. He doesn’t really have an eye for cute things, his interests are a little darker, but he doesn’t think you’re adorable. The height, how short you are compared to him, and your soft curves. Why wouldn’t he want you?

Thinks your height makes you just precious. The way you have to look up at him makes you look submissive to him, and he loves that more than anything.

His touches can be surprisingly gentle.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull) 

Adores that he towers over you. He towers over most people but he really towers over you and he loves it, but so do you.

Likes to tease you. He’s a tall man and he’s much taller than you. He just finds it amusing when you try to give him a kiss or wrap your arms around his neck but simply...can’t. He can’t help but chuckle at your frustration before leaning down and giving you what you want.

Has a thing for picking you up or having you on his lap. It’s just so easy! He’ll pick you up so that you wrap your legs around his waist, it’s so easy for him to just carry you around, and he thinks it’s pretty cute. Even when you’re sitting on his lap, you look small compared to him, he enjoys that.

Is always touching you. He doesn’t need an excuse to touch you, whether it’s protective, possessive, or affectionate, it doesn’t matter. He’s always got a hand on you.

Otis Driftwood

Lot’s of teasing, lot’s of pet names. It’s mostly based on your height and it’s always with a fondness and affection, but he just loves messing with you. He loves getting you flustered, he thinks it’s adorable.

Always has a hand on you. It’s those curves of yours, how can you expect him to keep his hands off of you when you’re just so enticing?

Loves having you on his lap. If he had it his way, you would always be on his lap. Having you resting against his chest, his hands on your thighs or on your hips, being less than subtle about it.

Baby Firefly 

Just thinks you’re the cutest. She will throw an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her and kissing the top of your head before smiling brightly down at you. And when you blush? She just loves it. No matter how much you tell her to quit teasing you, she just can’t.

Always teasing and complimenting you. If she isn’t playfully teasing you about your height, she’s complimenting you on your curves. Oh she adores your body and makes sure to tell you that every day.

Yautja (Predator)

You are tiny compared to him. Since the majority of Yautjas are at least 7 foot or taller, you are just tiny in comparison. This makes you even more precious to your mate but he also becomes a whole lot more protective over you.

It all makes you even more adorable. He does just think you’re adorable and is very honest about that but he takes so much pride in you being his mate. He’s well aware of his strength so he knows how to be gentle with you, and he is very gentle until he becomes comfortable that you aren’t as easily broken as he may have assumed.

You’re so small and soft. It’s not something that Yautjas are typically used too, you’re so small compared to his imposing stature, and softness is so foreign to him. It makes him love you all the more, he’s absolutely obsessed with it.

[magnoliabloomfield]

Possession

Chapter 1: The Princess Arrives

Structure. Maybe it was because he was a builder that he liked that word so much. He built structures, he knew how make four walls and a roof that wouldn’t come down on anyone’s head, he knew how to build a seat that wouldn’t give out under anyone’s weight, and he knew how to maintain it all and make it last. The small world he lived in demanded order and structure for everyone’s well being. Without it they would be sleeping on the ground, starving, and losing their minds. And if one cog in that machine didn’t turn as it should it affected every other part. Yes, the Glade had to be a well oiled machine functioning everyday as it should.

Thankfully there were no outside forces that tried to thwart that. The doors opened in the morning, they closed at night, and the box came every month. You could tell time by the Glade and its unchanging rhythm. After three years Gally knew it like his own heartbeat. He knew the answer to every problem that could crop up in his bit of the machine. He was good enough to be the Keeper of the builders at least. Maybe that’s why it hit him hardest of all.

Box day came like all the others before it, predictable and precise. But then the heart of the Glade skipped a beat and Gally’s own did too for the first time. Because in that box was something they would never recover from.

A girl.

That was the worst thing that ever could have come up in the box. The boys would lose their minds, they’d become distracted and competitive and the machine of the Glade would come to a rusty, grinding halt. Gally could see the writing on the walls: this was going to be bad.

She wasn’t awake, she was laying there almost peacefully and all the gladers remained eerily and unexpectedly silent, like they were waiting for someone to jump out and say it was all a joke and take her away, or if they stared at her long enough the mirage would fizzle out and it actually would be a boy like it was supposed to be. Alby and Newt carefully lowered themselves into the box so they wouldn’t startle her and Newt hesitantly checked for a pulse, letting out a breath as he nodded to say she was alive. Gally ran a hand over his mouth, feeling anxious but not wanting to look it.

She woke up slowly from a sleep she didn’t know she’d fallen into. Her eyes stared straight up at the sky before they started to focus on things like Newt and Alby and a whole crowd of boys looming above her. Gally waited for the scream, for the crying, shuck, even boys had screamed and cried when they came up. But she didn’t. She tried to sit up and winced, placing her palm over her eye and rubbing like her head hurt.

“You’re okay,” Newt said to her from where he knelt beside her.

“Do you remem-“ Alby started to ask her but was silenced by her holding up one finger.

“Just… give me a minute,” she requested as she pressed both palms to her forehead and brought her knees up toward her chest.

“Sure, no rush,” Newt assured her softly, earning a small glare from Alby who was more impatient and less coddling than him.

“Enough gawking, if you’re not a keeper get back to work,” Alby ordered the boys standing around whispering to each other and stifling giggles behind their fists.

Gally narrowed his eyes and shook his head at them. Weak willed hormonal morons. They were all shucking doomed. Slowly the boys began to shuffle off, the ones catching Gally’s glare wiping the smirks from their faces and moving even faster. He sighed to himself knowing their work was going to suck if it got done at all.

Gally stood around with the other keepers, his arms crossed as they all waited for whatever would happen next. The girls hands came away from her face and she held one out in front of her, seeing the tremors running through it and making it shake before she clutched her knees and took a deep breath.

“Okay… now, what?” she sighed, looking up at Newt and Alby, her eyes squinting in the sun.

She was cute, of course she was cute, she couldn’t ruin their lives if she wasn’t cute, Gally thought to himself as he looked away from her.

“Do you remember anything?” Newt asked her nicely.

She zoned out on the middle ground ahead of her and let a breath out through her lips. “Water is wet, the sky is blue, that kind of stuff. I can’t even remember my name,” She said, her shaking hands pushing her hair back from her face as that realization set in.

“It’s ok, it’s alright,” Newt did a good job of keeping her calm. “That happens to everyone who comes here. Sad to say that’s normal. Most of us eventually remember our names at some point though, so don’t worry too much.”

“So if I were to ask you where we are and why we’re here you wouldn’t even know?” she asked as she turned to him, causing him to rock back on his heels a little bit.

“Unfortunately that is correct,” Alby spoke up, earning her attention. “But we will tell you everything we do know, starting with the fact that… you’re the very first girl to come here in three years. So we kind of have a lot to talk about.”

She squinted up at him for a beat before asking “Am I dreaming?”

“I bet you would think being the only girl in a crowd of boys would be a dream,” one of the other keepers said, drawing those eyes of hers to him.

“Nightmares are dreams too,” she pointed out.

Gally felt the corner of his mouth twitch like he might have chuckled at that.

She got out of the box on her own, climbing onto a drum of drinking water and then the rest of the way. Alby and Newt took a hand to get out and Gally figured the girl wasn’t keen on being touched just yet if ever. They let her have her way. They set off for the gathering room, the girl carefully encircled by the keepers to either keep her from running off or keep anyone from running up to her. Alby yelled for someone to go unload the rest of the box and the girl flinched.

She wasn’t as short as Gally expected a girl would be, but of course she was a lot shorter than him. At least not all the boys were that much taller than her which might tip things in her favor slightly if anything were to happen. Gally would have to pay attention to how intimidating he was now. It was never an issue with the boys, it was quite essential in fact. If they weren’t a little scared of someone then nothing would get done. But just looking at her he could tell that he absolutely could overpower her without breaking a sweat, and she would most definitely put that together too, so he had to make sure he never gave her a reason to think he actually would.

They started the gathering with the basic Greenie intro to the Glade. This was usually handled by one person who took the greenie on a tour around the Glade, but this was not the usual greenie. Gally was actually glad she was out of sight of the boys who were supposed to be working.

He rested his elbows on his knees to keep his leg from jumping nervously as Alby and Newt explained the basics and each keeper explained what they did. Gally kept his eyes down, unintentionally staring through the spot where her feet were. As the builder he was running through all the work he would have to do, he’d have to build a safe place for her to sleep and wash up, how exactly was he going to do that, he’d never had to do that before. When Alby called his name he was almost startled. He looked around and found everyone looking back at him, including the girl. It must be his turn.

“I’m in charge of the builders. Pretty self explanatory,” he stated, holding her gaze for as long as he could manage. It wasn’t long.

“You’ve been surprisingly quiet, Gally,” Newt pointed out, looking at him curiously.

Gally didn’t like the attention. “Well, I am the one who has to do the most about this situation,” he pointed out. “Yes, she needs her introduction to this place, but while you’re telling it to her I’m sitting here thinking of how I’m going to build a safe place for her to sleep and to wash up. I’m thinking up the plans now so I can get to work first light and just maybe she’ll have a place to sleep by sundown tomorrow. So what are we going to do for her tonight?”

Alby pinched the bridge of his nose as his face scrunched up, realizing that they had lot of work ahead of them. When Gally had finished his rant he thought the girl was sitting a little smaller in her seat.

“The gardening shed,” Newt blurted. “Remember the time the rakes fell over? We couldn’t get in, you had to take the door off. There’s no windows either. It’s not the best accommodations but on short notice at least it’s a place where no one can get in.”

Gally had started nodding, remembering exactly what Newt was talking about and it was a good idea, at least for one night. “We’ll move out some of the tools and put a cot in,” Gally thought aloud.

“She can take mine,” Minho volunteered.

“Are you sure? Aren’t you running tomorrow?” Newt pointed out.

“Yeah,” Minho shrugged. “Maybe one of the other runners will let me use his cot, but I can’t volunteer anyone else’s but my own. Besides, it’ll be one night, two tops with Gally working on it.”

Gally was surprised to hear him say something vaguely nice about him. But most of all he was planning, drawing blueprints in his mind of the safest, most anti-boy structure he could possibly make. He was going to put the Princess in the tower.

@poulterholland @anniemylennox @crazysheeplyca @thesuitkovian @Poulterjonas @gladerscake @carp3d1em @neilox

If any of you don't actually want to be tagged in the future just let me know, I was just trying to remember the ones who were really interested in the last short Gally series I wrote.

Possession Masterlist

[itwoodbeprefect]

Inge! sorry I'm a little late to the party, but do you still take prompts? if yes, I'd like to request a friendship piece for either Rodney&Teyla or Rodney&Ronon (w/ or w/out a dash of McShep is good for me) pretty please? thanks! <3

Not that late at all, and what a lovely warm prompt! Thank you. :D

I went with Rodney & Ronon, but also kind of Rodney & Teyla and maybe Ronon & Teyla, and also John is around, and it’s almost teamfic? Also, Jeannie.

---

The door to John’s quarters slides open exactly like his own would, which he expects, but he stops cold after two hasty steps into the room anyway. He turns back to the door to check, and in the process has to look past the Johnny Cash poster above the bed and the surfboard leaning against the wall and the giant brick of a Tolstoy book on the nightstand, so yeah, he decides in the end, without stepping out to doublecheck - these are John’s quarters. There’s not a single thing out of place, except, well, the obvious.

“McKay,” Ronon grumbles. It sounds like a greeting. Like Ronon, sitting fully clothed on the edge of John’s made bed, is saying hi.

“What are you doing here?” Rodney asks, by way of saying hi back.

“Meeting Sheppard.” Ronon grins, in a way that looks a little dangerous. That’s a good sign with Ronon, who has no problem looking a lot dangerous, if he wants. “Unless you want to spar with me.”

Rodney does not. Rodney thinks that’s a little too predictable for him to say out loud; quite honestly, he thinks John is crazy for endangering his life that way voluntarily every week.

Rodney looks back at the door again, which has slid closed, and in front of which the person he’s been looking for has not suddenly materialized in the last ten seconds. “Where is John?”

“Not here.”

Rodney’s nerves make him skip the snappy comeback. “Any idea where he might be?”

“Why?” Ronon asks.

Which is more than enough to make Rodney spill his guts. He was barely holding it in, anyway. “I think Jeannie’s mad at me, and I’m not sure why.” He frowns and starts to pace back and forth and rub his hands together. He’s a multitasker. “I don’t think I did or said anything rude lately, but her emails are shorter than usual, and she didn’t even sign the last one. It’s really not like me to overthink these kinds of things, because I don’t care what people think of me anyway-” That’s a lie, he’s come to realize in recent years, but it’s a comforting one to repeat out loud, sometimes. “But, you know, I think I was the bad guy for not contacting Jeannie all those years and we’ve only just started being brother and sister again, so I’ve been trying to put in the effort, and now I think she’s mad at me.” He stops marching and gives the too long, didn’t read version. “So I need someone to tell me what I did wrong, so I can fix it.”

Ronon levels a look at him. “And you need John for this.”

The look says more than the words, and it has a point, of course. John’s not known for his exceptional social grace and skill. Rodney wags his head a little, considering how to justify his choice. John is his best friend, but he’d feel a little pathetic saying that to Ronon, who he’s pretty sure is also John’s best friend. “He had some surprisingly clever insights about my relationship with Jeannie last time she was here,” is what Rodney lands on, reluctantly. He spots John’s golf stuff in the corner, and wistfully thinks back to being able to just ramble at John without Ronon sitting there, judging him.

Ronon leans back, planting his hands behind him on the mattress. “I could help,” he offers, out of the blue.

Some deep, deep blue. Blue enough to make Rodney stare, hands stilling mid-wring. “You?” Rodney’s not trying to be offensively puzzled, but he thinks he’s allowed a little surprise. If John is dubious in his social grace, Ronon is a tripping hazard. “You could help?”

Ronon stares back like a challenge. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” Rodney says. He waits and looks at Ronon expectantly, but nothing happens. Ronon just looks back at him mutely. “Please?”

“What would Teyla do?”

“Huh?” She’s not here, either - if Ronon’s help is just sending him to chase someone else around the city, that’s not very helpful at all.

“Ask yourself,” Ronon says. “What would Teyla do? And then do that thing.”

Rodney is right back to baffled. He’s not sure he ever left - he’s talking to Ronon Dex about feelings. “Is that how you handle a problem?”

“No.” Ronon leaves a pause there. Rodney finds himself unexpectedly distracted by the question if Ronon talks so little because he really just doesn’t have much to say, or because finding words takes effort. “I glare at it until it goes away.”

Rodney huffs a laugh out of pure surprise, because that almost sounds like a joke. It may not have been, but either way Ronon doesn’t glare at him, which Rodney takes as a sign that he hasn’t just become a problem.

“And if that doesn’t work-” Ronon continues, which Rodney feels is surprisingly talkative of him, until he lets that sentence hang unfinished.

But Rodney can do that, now. Finish Ronon’s sentence. “What would Teyla do?”

Ronon nods. He looks a little smug, like there’s a dead Wraith around here somewhere. “Yeah.”

“Oh,” Rodney says, both because he would have guessed that Ronon’s backup plan would involve a lot more knives (though it could, potentially, still involve knives sometimes - Teyla’s very good with those) and because that’s actually good advice. If there’s one person who would know how to get someone to tell them what’s wrong, it’s Teyla.

And if Teyla thought somebody she loved might be mad at her, but she wasn’t sure why, she would... ask. She wouldn’t go into a tailspin and try to guess at the answer while assuming it had to be her fault, she would ask why and listen and then talk it out.

“Oh my God,” Rodney says, feeling like a whole new world just opened up to him. “Words.”

Ronon pulls a face. It looks a little like a sympathy wince.

Rodney flings a hand out at him. “Thank you!”

“Thank Teyla,” Ronon says, which Rodney thinks is a little weirdly modest for the galaxy’s greatest Runner who just counseled him through a family emergency, but they can work on Ronon’s ability to accept gratitude later, over lunch or something.

For now, Rodney sweeps out of the room, because he needs his computer so he can type so he can get Jeannie to tell him what’s bothering her so he can be a good brother, and apologize only once he knows what he’s apologizing for. God, Teyla’s smart.

As luck would have it, John is just stepping out of the transporter when Rodney storms towards it. “Hey,” he says, slowing to a stop when Rodney doesn’t. “What are you doing here?”

“Asking you for help.” Rodney brushes right past him with a pat to his arm; no time.

“You’re going the wrong way,” John calls after him.

“I’m fine! Ronon helped me by making Teyla help me help myself with Jeannie.”

“What?”

The last thing Rodney sees before he steps into the transporter is John’s bewildered face. It’s clear John is left with some questions, but Rodney doesn’t need to hang around for that. Ronon can take over; that’s what Teyla would do.

Or, Rodney thinks, what a friend would do.

(Turns out, in the end, that Jeannie was never even mad at him to begin with - her next email is much longer, and details all the mundane little circumstances that piled up and left her very stressed last month but that she didn’t think Rodney had wanted to hear about (it involves a flu and lice and a car that wouldn’t start and visiting in-laws and school play preparations and a lost teddy bear and half a dozen other little things Rodney is glad he doesn’t have to deal with in Pegasus), and then she calls him very attentive for picking up on her mood and sweet for thinking to ask if everything is okay.

The next day Rodney bribes one of the botanists to cut a bouquet for him and gives it to Teyla, and he hoards one of the last pieces of pie at dinner until Ronon shows up. “What’s happening?” John asks, suspicious. Maybe Ronon’s explanation wasn’t all that comprehensive after all.

“Emotional intelligence,” Ronon says around a full mouth, spewing little pieces of pie across the table, and Rodney nods solemnly.

That’s not what Teyla would do, because she’s smiling at them both, but close enough.)

[bopbopstyles]

ELEVATED SURFACES

RATING: R/smut (sex, heavy alcohol use, smoking, lots of cursing)

WORD COUNT: 11.6k

CATEGORIES: fratboy!harry

MASTERLIST (check it out for extras) | INSPO TAG | PLAYLIST 

a/n: as a recently graduated srat girl and lover of a good frat party, this one shot was intended to fill the whole in my heart which is LEGIT frat Harry. he is fratty and hot and long haired and a mess. if u like this try out TEMPTATION which is my other frat!h series and the first thing i ever wrote on this gd website (he’s not as fratty but we love him a LOT)

a/n pt.2: as a note, i want to make very clear that frats and greek organizations frequently harbor predators and abusers. i do not in any way condone that behavior or that reality, and i would like to bring attention to a petition to remove a fraterity that had done truly many horrible things--your signature would be a huge help. for survivors of assault, you are not alone, and it is not your fault. 

As you rose up, your eyes locked on a figure in the doorway of the basement. His long hair was loose, curls that had been pulled out from the hair tie he always had on his wrist, a tight white shirt that you knew meant all of his tattoos were on display. Harry was watching you, you realized as you twisted your hips and bounced your arms up and down with the beat, singing the words. So you kept his gaze, and just to taunt him, when the chorus hit again, you dropped down, ass hitting your heels, eyes on his the whole time.

or

Harry is a very fratty frat boy and Y/N is a really good dancer

pls reblog and share with your friends 💕

“We really should not be still going to our own mixers,” Emily said to you, fluffing her hair and rotating to check her ass in her jeans. You looked up from where you were sitting on your bed, a gin and tonic in one hand to get your blood flowing before the party started. Emily sighed, and then turned from the mirror to you, grabbing the coffee cup that had never seen coffee, just alcohol. “Are people even going?”

You nodded, tossing your phone next to you and leaning against the bed frame. “Alexis is on her way over—she got held up finishing an essay. Maya said she might come, I tried to convince her by promising I’d bring my flask and you’d have your Juul.”

“I swear, she has to just give in and get one of her own.” Emily took a long sip and crossed her arms.

“She claims that will make her addicted.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “She’s already addicted—she uses half my pods and ends up hanging out with whatever guy will let her take a hit. Is it just going to be us and all the new members?”

“No, I think some juniors are going. And definitely the sophomores—they’re all on the little hunt.” You got up, going to your computer to change the song, scrolling through your comprehensive and well-curated pregame playlist. “Plus, who gives a fuck, we’ll only be there for an hour or two for the free alcohol and then we’re hitting the bars.”

“True.” A knock came from the door, and Emily hollered to come in, and Alexis appeared in the doorway, her makeup looking utterly flawless as always. You had always wanted Alexis’s wardrobe and told her constantly, to which Alexis always replied that she wished you were the same size. Unfortunately, Alexis was a solid five inches shorter than you and had a completely different bra size, making sharing quite difficult.  

“Bitches, I brought tequila!” Alexis swung into the room in a cloud of perfume, and threw her arms around you and Emily’s shoulders. “Come on, we need to get tipsy before we get to this mixer. Nick already texted me making sure I was coming.”

“Grab the shot glasses,” You replied, nodding to the makeshift bar cart in the corner, which as laden with glasses of all kinds and all your alcohol. “Are you hooking up with him tonight?”

Alexis shrugged, pulling her tequila from her bag and setting it on your desk before turning and going for the shot glasses. “Probably. I don’t know, he’s been weird lately—we hooked up on Monday night, but then he got all weird and left like immediately after and hasn’t texted me since. Barely acknowledged me when we saw each other in the library.”

“Was the sex weird?” Emily asked, unscrewing the top on the tequila so she could pour.

“Yeah,” Alexis replied, holding the glasses steady while Emily poured. “Like weirdly…intense? I let him come inside me which was probably a stupid idea, but I’m on the IUD so we should be all good. And then I offered to let him stay and he just got all flustered and said he had to go.”

You took your full shot glass, and you all clinked before tossing them back, the alcohol burning on your throat.  You hated tequila shots but Alexis loved them, and you did admit they did their job. “Do you think he’s caught feelings?”

Alexis’s eyes widened. She had been pining after Nick for ages, his tall basketball stature and surprisingly good fashion sense a dime a dozen. Much less, apparently the sex was insane, so what wasn’t to like? “You think? I thought it might’ve not been his vibe.”

Emily grabbed the bottle. “Another?” You all nodded, and she poured again, The Weeknd crooning in the background. “Just see what happens tonight, feel out what his vibe his.”

“Good idea.” You slammed back another shot, hissing before setting down the glass. “Okay, that’s enough tequila or you two are going to be carrying me home tonight.”

Emily and Alexis laughed, before taking seats on your bed, continuing to chatter about the night ahead. It was a Friday, your favorite night because it was usually just mixers, no general parties, which as a senior you had grown to despise. The fighting for watered down alcohol, packed bodies and horrific gender ratio was simply no longer something you had the energy to deal with. Mixers were your preferred zone, filled with your sorority sisters who you adored, the opportunity to actually hang out with the frat brothers whose presence you enjoyed, and usually pong. Sometimes they even let you DJ because you had the best party playlists. The president of Sig Ep had actually asked for the link one time and you’d heard they used it sometimes when the brothers didn’t want to man the computer anymore.

You surveyed your outfit in your narrow mirror, the black denim jeans and simple white tank that showed a bit of stomach and your tan you’d worked hard on during your winter escape to the Caribbean with your lineage. It was simple, yet it suited your needs—after three and a half years of college parties, you had discovered getting dressed up for frat parties was a useless activity, since your clothes would get drenched in jungle juice and sweat anyways. You left your best outfits for Saturday nights spent clubbing downtown.

If you were being honest, the whole reason you were going tonight was because at the last mixer you’d had with Beta, you’d turned around on the dance floor to find Harry’s eyes on you. You were already dancing with another one of the brothers and ended up making out with him in a corner until you got bored, but you hadn’t been able to get the sight of his eyes on you out of your head.

You’d known Harry since freshman year, your interactions limited mostly to mixers and the occasional run-in in the dining halls when you exchanged pleasantries, or the one time he’d volunteered for a karaoke team for your sorority philanthropy event and you’d been in charge of his team. But the two of you had rarely ever spent time together.  That didn’t mean you hadn’t had a lingering crush on him since you’d first laid eyes on him, though, and over the years he’d only gotten more attracted. A body that filled out his white t-shirts and black jeans, hair long and sweeping his shoulders to where he wore it in a bun most times, a jaw that could cut glass. He was hot and he knew it, as did everyone else on campus.

As juniors you had both been on the executive boards of your respective Greek organizations and had ended up in meetings together about housing violations and social calendars, but it hadn’t ever led to much more than you both complaining about how fucking annoying FIJI and their insistent requests for a house was, considering they’d trashed their last one. But this year, you’d found his eyes on you multiple times, and you wondered if perhaps your time had arrived. You’d both always danced around each other and you were curious after all these years if he was finally interested in hooking up. Not that you really expected much more, or were looking for much else—you were a senior, after all, and you were enjoying it.

“Y/N.” Alexis’s voice ripped you from your musings over Harry, her fingers snapping from her spot on your bed. “What’s got you thinking hard over there?”

“Harry?” Emily guessed, one eyebrow raising. “Emmett said he’ll be there tonight.”

“He’s always there,” you replied, because he was. Like you, he seemed to enjoy the mixers, but usually avoided the open parties unless he was on door duty.

“You’d hook up with him, right?”

You looked at Alexis. “Obviously. He’s so fucking hot.”

She laughed, as did Emily. “Then go for it, girl. It’s not like he’ll say no.”

You shrugged. “He might. Never know.”

“I seriously doubt that. You look hot as fuck, as usual, and are the life of the party. Beta adores you. They literally asked you to move in this year when they had an open spot.”

“It was a joke,” you reminded them, because it was—you wouldn’t ever be allowed to live in the house and they knew that. It was true though, you had become a bit of a groupie over the past few years, preferring the more laid back vibe in their house. You’d become friends with all the senior guys, except the weird or obnoxious ones, and had become a regular invite to Bachelor Monday watch parties in their second floor living room. You brought snacks and your friends, they provided the booze and the cable.

“Still,” Emily said, nudging you the toe of her black booties. “Don’t sell yourself short, babes. He is missing a brain if he’s not interested in you.”

“And seriously missing out,” Alexis added. You shot her a look, but she just chuckled. “Bitch, I lived next door to you last year. You are loud.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you said, laughing, but she was right. You were. Guys had told you on countless occasions, but you really couldn’t find it in yourself to care all that much. “Come on, we should go. Maya is texting me asking when we’re leaving.”

“Do you have your cigs?”  Alexis asks you, downing the rest of the drink she’d made while you had been staring into space.

It was your vice, one you had picked up during a semester abroad and only did when you were drunk. You knew you should stop, but something about it made you feel powerful, a bit badass, so you kept doing it. “Obviously. Emmett will have a fit if I don’t.” You swiped your pack from your desk drawer and your trusty pale blue lighter, and shoved them into the pocket of your jacket. With one last swig of your drink, your veins buzzing with alcohol just the right amount, the three of you were off, singing an old Hannah Montana song in the elevator down to the lobby of your dorm.

One of the pledges was working the door, but happily let you three into the frat house. The lights on the main floor were off, except for the ones in the front study that doubled as a coat room, where you tied the arms of your jackets together and set them in the corner so you didn’t lose them. Your cigs were transferred to your back pocket, and you just prayed you didn’t forget they were there and crush them again.  

Josephine and another junior were the sober sisters, and offered you three hugs before checking your names off the list. You got positive points for being there, as if that was the main reason you had shown up.

“Emmett!” Emily called, and the blond-headed boy’s head flipped up from where he was standing behind the bar. A Gatorade water cooler was sitting on the high bar, stacks of red solo cups and boxes of white claws and beers sitting on top of one another.

Aka, your happy place. “He’s bartending, thank god,” you said, and grabbed Emily and Alexis, weaving through the crowd. Girls stopped you all as you moved, hugs and squeals at your appearance. You had to admit, you were popular in your sorority, but mainly because you had made it your mission to get your money worth. As a result of your exec position, you’d gotten to know the sophomore member class and you adored them all, chaotic messes who always turned up with you and made you laugh hysterically. Honestly, you were sad to graduate because it meant leaving behind so many fun friends and memories.

“We’ve been waiting for you three,” Emmett said when you arrived in front of him. He was wearing the frat’s homecoming shirt from the previous year and his eyes were dilated, obvious that he had smoked before. “What are we drinking?”

“What’s the mix?” You asked, pointing to the cooler.

He grabbed three cups, knowing you would be taking it. “Shit ton of vodka, Kool Aid, water, the usual.”

“My favorite,” you replied, blowing him a kiss. “How is it downstairs?”

He filled the cups and handed them to you all. “They just wrapped up pong so it’s still getting moving.”

Alexis took a long sip before grabbing your hand. “Sounds like we need to get people dancing.” With that she turned around, her long slick black hair moving in a circle. “Let’s dance!” She called, and the girls around you cheered, following the three of you down the slippery steps to the basement.

Downstairs, The Motto was playing and you bobbed your head along with the beat, moving your hips as you entered the large basement space. It was dark except for a glowing sign with the Beta letters in narrow neon lights, casting the room with a tint of green. Your battered frat shoes, an old pair of white Vans, stuck against the beer and jungle juice-covered floor as you made your way to the middle. A couple of other girls and brothers were scattered around the floor, and you broke from Emily and Alexis’s hands as you twirled on the floor.  

You raised your cup above your head and started dancing, rapping the lyrics by heart, moving your hands and hips along with the song. Emily and Alexis sang along with you and some of the younger girls showed up, then some other seniors who shared your love for frat parties. All of a sudden your little was screaming and running towards you, Mallory’s arms wrapping around your waist.

“Oh my fuck god, MOM,” she screamed, using the nickname she’d had for you since you’d taken her as your little two years ago. You laughed and threw your arm around her shoulders, screaming the lyrics. There was a specific reason you had taken Mallory as your little, and it was because she lost her shit at parties just as much as you did. You two were a dynamic duo like no other, and if your grand little didn’t have a huge exam on Monday, she’d be here too and you would all be dancing together as usual.

You downed your jungle juice, the sugary drink combined with the loud music blasting and your friends making your adrenaline kick into high gear. And then Maya appeared, arms waving like crazy, and then she dropped it low and you remembered why you adored her, even if she always stole Emily’s Juul. She had a beer in one hand and a white claw in the other, ready for the night ahead.

Then Emmett appeared, trailed by some of the other brothers in tank tops and t-shirts, one carrying a six pack on his shoulder and handing out warm beers to the brothers he passed. Emmett beelined for Emily, his arm thrown around her shoulder, their completely platonic friendship on show for everyone. The song ended and you took a breath, crushing your cup and tossing it into the corner so you could have your hands free. Emily pulled her Juul free and took a hit, passing it to Maya next without a question between them.

The opening notes of Come Get Her started and you immediately grabbed Alexis and Emily, beelining for the bar that the speakers rested on, something you weren’t even sure how it got there, but it was your favorite elevated surface of all time. Wide enough to dance, tall enough to be high but not too high where you couldn’t mostly stand. You clamored up, coming to nearly full height and turning to your friends.

“Somebody come get her, she’s dancing like a stripper!” You screamed, your friends coming in a circle in front of the three of you, some other girls getting up on the bar. When the line came through again, you decided fuck it, and you dropped your ass low, bending your knees and tipping your head back.

When you danced, you didn’t give a single fuck about impressing guys or any of that. You just simply loved to dance with your friends, move your hips, and didn’t care what you looked like. Mallory screamed when you got low, your name falling from her lips in a squeal of joy.

As you rose up, your eyes locked on a figure in the doorway of the basement. His long hair was loose, curls that had been pulled out from the hair tie he always had on his wrist, a tight white shirt that you knew meant all of his tattoos were on display. Harry was watching you, you realized as you twisted your hips and bounced your arms up and down with the beat, singing the words. So you kept his gaze, and just to taunt him, when the chorus hit again, you dropped down, ass hitting your heels, eyes on his the whole time.

That had him moving. He joined a circle where Emmett and some other senior guys were dancing with some other girls, beers in hand as they shifted back and forth. But you knew what would have them all actually dancing and screaming and jumping along with you. You needed to see Harry like that—loose and free. So you turned around and grabbed the attention of the sophomore on aux, his name something along the lines of Justin, and screamed your song choice to him. He gave you a thumbs up, and then you turned back around. Your hair was sticking to the back of your neck, and you rolled it into a loose, high bun, pulling the elastic on your wrist around it as you swayed to the song.

You could hear the song ending, and with your eyes on Harry, you decided you would get down. He was next to a pledge with a six pack, and you wanted a beer. You were mixing alcohols like nobody’s business tonight, but you’d done worse. You squatted down and kicked your feet out, Mallory’s hand coming out to help you down. “You good?” She asked, leaning in to you.

“Yeah, just hot,” you replied. “Going to get a beer.” She nodded and let you go. There wasn’t a need to watch your friends as much in a normal party, since you knew all the girls here. Maya pulled you in for a hug as you moved, and then the current president called out your name from where she stood with her boyfriend, a white claw in her hand.

Squeezing next to Emmett, you nudged the waist of the pledge next to you. “Can I get one?” You asked, pointing to the beers.

“Yeah,” he replied, pulling one from the case and handing it to you. It was a Natty Light, but you really could’ve given fewer fucks—they were a frat after all, they didn’t buy the good stuff.

You popped the tab and took a long swig, the liquid quelling your rough throat from singing. And then, the song changed, and you smiled, eyes meeting Harry’s. You decided you were going to draw him out. “I got hoes, callin’!” You screamed, the song starting the speakers, and the boys all joined in. Fuck it, you thought, and chugged the rest of your beer so that you could jump, your arms outstretched and pumping up and down. Your bun was bouncing on your head and you were grinning, the music flowing through you.

Harry was watching you, his head tapping, hair swishing back and forth. You needed more. So you moved into the center of the circle, knowing the guys would hype you up, and reached for him. “Why aren’t you dancing?” You asked him playfully, and his eyebrow shot up.

“Fuck! Shit! Bitch!” The best lines of the song ran through the speaker and you just grabbed his hand, which was warm, and pulled on him. Suddenly his body was in front of you, close, and you tried to process what your original plan was. But then, Harry started moving, back and forth, head bopping, rapping the lyrics in time, and you knew you had gotten him. “I be ballin’, like a motherfuckin’ pro,” you sang, starting up to jump, and to your surprise, Harry joined you, a carefree expression finally crossing his face. He was screaming the lyrics then, hair bouncing as he moved. He rotated, grabbing the shoulders of another one of the boys, who joined in with him, them screaming the lyrics at each other.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the change in his demeanor so sudden. When the song changed, T-Shirt by Migos coming on, he turned back to you. All of a sudden, his lips were next to your ear and you choked on air. “Fuckin’ love that song,” he said, accent smooth in your ear.

“You and every other frat boy,” you replied, stepping backwards. You had ended up at the side of the circle closer to the wall, and so you moved towards it, freeing yourself from the heavy circle of boys.

The song was slower, not a jumping and dancing song, but one that suggested the slow grinding of hips and closeness of bodies. Which fuck it, you wanted. Desperately. He was looking at you with an intense stare, smile sloppy from alcohol, Harry sweaty on his forehead, arms straining under the fabric of his shirt. He was following you, taking a step away from his friends and following your body as if magnetic. So you just went for it, putting your weight lower, and rolled your hips back and forth to the music.

Mama told me/not to sell work/Seventeen five/same color T-shirt

Your eyes met his, and the shared intensity of his gaze stirred something inside of you. Desire. A need to know what his skin felt like, a desire that had been lingering since you first saw him. Your hands moved on their own, draping over his shoulders, and his hands found the curve of your waist, and suddenly you knew what his skin felt like on yours. They found the bare skin between the hem of your shirt and the top of your jeans, burning your already warm skin.

Justin-something on aux changed the song, deciding that was enough, and then No Role Modelz was on, and you moved, swaying back and forth, your chests coming closer and closer. His face was inches from yours and you wondered what his lips would taste like. The slow rap and smooth feel of the beat had your eyes fluttering shut, mind twirling from the alcohol and the lowlights, the heat of the packed basement. If you didn’t have Harry under your hands, you might have left for a smoke break, an excuse for air. But you weren’t letting go of him anytime soon. So you turned around and when your ass touched his dick you couldn’t help but smile—he was already hard. You felt his arm move and watched him sip his beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he drank. You rolled your hips against him and then reached up, grabbing the can and bringing it to your own lips, taking a sip and watching him watch you. The two of you were taunting each other, acting on a feeling that had always been an undercurrent in every one of your interactions, a slight sexual tension that if you pulled on would become taught.

Which as you pressed against him, you fucking yanked on. His free hand clasped around your hip, holding you close and swaying in time with you. You could feel the sweat that had soaked through his t-shirt a bit, but you didn’t care—you  were sweaty yourself, so was everyone in the room. It was part of the appeal, the fact that everyone was a mess and no one cared. He was rock hard between the denim of both of your jeans, and you could feel the power racing through you, the fact that you had him like this going straight to your head.

When Mr. Brightside came on, you decided that was your smoke break time. You couldn’t stand the song after so many years, and the feeling of bodies pressing together as they jumped was too much for you. “I’m going to get some air,” you said, turning around so you could face Harry.

He was so close to you, just inches away, when his tongue licked over his lip. “Can I come with?”

“Sure.” You grabbed his hand as you moved through the crowd, pushing between frat brothers and your sorority sisters who were all dancing together to the song. When you made it through the exit you sighed, the stale air of the stairwell even feeling better than that room.

“Fuck it was hot in there,” Harry said, your hand dropping from his. He followed you up the stairs and you nodded. You pushed open the door and a Doja Cat song was playing, some people upstairs scattered around, drinking and talking, some sitting on couches together. You waved to Maya, who seemed to have also needed a break, and nodded to the door as if to tell her you were getting some air.

“I’m going to smoke if that’s okay,” you told him as you made your way to the door, pulling your cigs and lighter from your back pocket.

He nodded. “Can I bum one?”

You opened the heavy oak door and said hello to the handful of guys sitting on the steps, who were manning the door and making sure no one random got in. “Sure,” you responded to Harry finally, sitting down on the concrete half wall that lined the landing. You could hear the slight thump of the music, but for the most part it was quiet, the the frat house a couple yards away not throwing anything tonight.

Harry leaned against the wall close to you, taking your offered cigarette. You flicked the lighter and raised it to your cigarette, taking a drag when it lit. Then you handed it to Harry, who accepted it gladly, doing the same. The smoke filled your lungs and your drunken mind considered that you should quit, but at the same time, you liked having something to do when you got air, an excuse to be on the steps. One of the other guys asked for one, and you handed one over, making a new friend.

And then you looked back to Harry. “So,” you said, tapping the ash on your cig. “How have you been?”

You hadn’t seen him since your last mixer with Beta, but you two hadn’t talked in ages. “Good,” he replied. “Busy with classes and stuff.”

“What are you studying again?”

“Political science,” he answered, and your eyebrows shot up. You had expected business or economics, like most of the Beta brothers.

“Why poli sci?”

He shrugged, tapping the ash before taking another drag. “Dunno, really. Took a class freshman year and liked it enough.”

“You don’t want to work in politics or something?”

“I don’t really know what I want to do, honestly.”

“You make it sound like that’s unusual,” you tell him. “Most people don’t.”

He chuckles, a low sound from the back of his throat, and you like the sound of it. “I’ll tell my dad that next time we talk.” You could tell there was a story there, but didn’t push. It wasn’t that kind of moment. “What about you?”

“Psych and pre-law,” you reply, the answer rolling off your tongue with ease.

“Oh? What kind of law?”

You took another drag before answering. “Criminal defense, but I want to work with people on death row.”

His eyes widen, just as you expected. It’s the usual response from people. “Fuck, that’s awesome. What made you interested in it?”

“I just got really into true crime when I was in middle school and ended up doing research on the criminal justice system and what a fucking disaster it is. Death sentences and death row especially. So I want to overturn false convictions.”

He puffed a cloud of smoke, and you watched his lips form a circle, a dark pink color that drew you in. “And you said most people don’t know what they want to do.”

A breeze made the hair on your arm hair stand up, and you rubbed the skin to warm up. It was cold tonight. “I’m unusual,” you told him. “Most of my friends have no idea what they’re doing after graduation.”

You had reached the end of your cigarette, so you dropped it to the ground and stamped it out, the combination of the nicotine and alcohol making your head deliciously hazy. “I’m going back in.”

Harry dropped his cigarette too, putting out the bud. “Lead the way.” He swiped his ID card on the door to let you both in, and you held the door for him, the sound of Post Malone sweeping through the house. “Want another drink?”

You mentally considered how drunk you were, came to the conclusion that you could take some more, and nodded. “White claw, please.” If you laid off the jungle juice you would last a bit longer, and you weren’t particularly wanting to get wasted tonight—you wanted to see where this went.

Harry nodded and walked towards the bar, while you turned to the group of girls closest to you, who were drinking juice and chattering amongst themselves. They immediately started asking you about Harry, about what was happening, and you shrugged because you truly didn’t know. “He’s hot,” one of them, a sophomore named Cat said. “You going to go for it?”

“If the opportunity presents itself,” you replied. You weren’t going to push with Harry, the last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself in front of him. You’d follow his lead, see what he was interested in, matching his flirting and  see where it went. Not to say you weren’t forward, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable either. “What about you guys?”

Cat launched into an in-depth analysis of the weird flirtation she’d been having with a junior guy in Beta, how they’d hooked up once but not again, but he kept looking at her. You encouraged her to go for it if she wanted, and she grinned, perhaps just needing an extra push. All of a sudden, you felt a hand on your back, and Harry was next to you, a Black Cherry white claw in one hand, a Heineken in the other.

“If I’d know there were Heinekens I would’ve had that,” you told him, accepting your white claw.

His hair fell behind his shoulders when he tipped the beer back. “Most girls don’t like beer.”

“Well you’ve met one now.” You liked messing with him, dropping flirtations into the conversation and pushing buttons. It made him smirk at you and you loved it, the twinkle in his eyes and the pinkness of his lips.

“H.” A guy appeared behind Harry. “We’re out of vodka.”

“How are we out?” He asked, taking another sip of his beer.

The guy, a pledge from the looks of him, grimaced. “Someone took one of the bottles.”

“Fuck,” Harry said with a sigh. “Have one of the other pledges go get more and keep the receipt. Get more claws while you’re out, we’re running low.” With that, he turned back to you, exhaling sharply. The boy disappeared, sensing that was his cue.

Right as you were about to speak, you heard the opening notes of I Love It from downstairs, and you turned to the girls around you. “Downstairs,” you told them, and they all tossed back the rest of their drinks before tossing them into the trash can a few paces away. You opened the door to the basement and then looked back to Harry. “Coming?”

That made him move, following you down into the dark stairwell that smelled of stale beer and sweat. He stayed close to you, and when your foot slipped on a stair he reached out to steady you, a hand to your side that made your body warm with more than just the temperature of the room.  The girls in front of you streamed into the room, screaming the lyrics to the song.

“You’re such a fucking hoe/I love it!” You joined in, laughing at the lyrics in spite of yourself, but the truth is you fucking loved the song. It was absurd and was filthy, but you liked screaming the lyrics in a room with a bunch of your friends.

You twirled around and walked into the room backward, moving your body with the beat, taunting Harry to follow you. Which he did, as if connected to you by a magnet. You could see his lips moving, the lyrics falling from his lips to match you. You stopped moving in the middle of the room and Harry’s hands found your hips. Turning in his hands, a coy smile on your face, you knew what this song was going to involve. Hips moved on their own accord, grinding hard against him. You could feel his breath on your neck, the lyrics I’m a sick fuck/I like a quick fuck/I like my dick sucked/I’ll buy you a sick truck in your ear. Hearing the words on his lips for some reason had your blood pumping,  and you wanted to hear them again on a loop.

His dick was hard against your ass and your hands stretched behind you, finding his hips to hold him close. His head fell to your neck, nosing at your skin, his fingers on the bare skin at your waist clenching. Your hips moved in time  with each other, his body dropping to be at the height as yours, chasing the desire that was running between you. Your head tipped back against his chest and eyes fluttered shut, letting the alcohol in your veins and the music pounding in your ears take over. All you could feel was him, the cut of his body and the strength of his arms next to you, his hips insistently rubbing against yours and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to actually grind on him.

The song changed, Work Out by J. Cole sounding through the speakers and you pulled away from him and turned to face him. You were going to put on a bit of a show, you decided, because why the fuck not. It was clear at this point that he wanted you as much as you wanted him, so why pretend like anything else was happening?

So when the lyrics Let me see you get/High then go low/Now, girl won't you drop that thing down to the floor? fell through the speakers you dropped to the ground, Harry’s eyes following you came back up slowly, your body just inches from his. His hands fell on your body, grabbing at your waist to keep you close, pressing his hips forward to grind right over the front of your jeans and you panted from both the heat in the room and the pleasure ripping through your body. When the chorus came again, you dropped down, and this time you ran your hands down his legs lightly as you moved, fingers dancing down and then back up the seams of his jeans.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he said and you could barely hear him over the music.

His eyes met yours, searing into yours, a question passing between you. And then you were moving towards each other, an answer to the question in the way your lips met, slotted together and pulled at one another. Your hands were pulling at his shirt, grabbing at the material and the skin underneath, one of his hand holding your head close to his,  the other at your waist. It was fast and messy, your lip pulling on his bottom one, before chasing him, his tongue brushing at the seam of your lips before dipping inside.

Kissing Harry was hot. It was like setting your whole body on fire with desire and you just wanted to know what the rest of him felt like because his lips were sending you to another planet. He tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth and a moan escaped you, desperation clear in your throat. You could feel bodies press around you, the notes of Fire by Louis the Child ringing through the room. When the beat dropped, you knew people were jumping, the guys doing that thing where they slammed into each other like some kind of mosh. But Harry just stayed there, pulling his lips into yours, drawing wet pants from your body. He was holding tight to you as if you were going to slip away, even though that was the last place you wanted to go.

But you decided you wanted to tease him a bit more. Not let him get away, but just…push him a bit. So you drew away, enough to where you could dance, your sorority sisters at your back—you had seen Alexis move behind you. You grinding on her, your asses touching, and you could hear her laughter, before moving against you. It was something you two always did, dancing partners since the moment you met.

“If I go down in flames/The smoke going to spell my name,” you sang.

Harry watched you, his eyes burning a line down your body, the ministrations of your hips against Alexis’s. And then he was moving towards you, his front pressed yours and his lips were at your ear. “Drink?”

You nodded, and let him pull you through the crowd and towards the stairs. People were moving down them and you pressed yourself to the wall to let them pass, before following Harry up the stairs to the main floor. “Is there anything better than that shit?” You asked him when you stood next to him, his arm loosely around your waist, holding you to him.

His gaze drifted to the bar and then back to you. “I’ve got some stuff in my room.”

You knew he lived in the house, the result of being on exec last year and having first dibs after the current exec board was placed, the hierarchy the same as in your own sorority house. “Do you have mixers?” As much as you drank, you still hated drinking most straight alcohol, especially if you were going to be sipping on it. When he nodded, you replied, “Let’s go.”

You caught the eye of Emily who was standing on the other side of the room, watching you, and you pointed upstairs to tell her where you were going. After she gave you a thumbs up, letting you know she’d check in before leaving, a silent conversation well rehearsed over the years, you followed Harry up the stairs. Other guys and girls streamed down them, coming from rooms where they were smoking or using the bathroom or drinking just like you.

“What floor are you on?”  You asked when you passed the first floor, twisting to go up the second flight.

“Third,” he replied, not pausing no the stairs. “It’s quieter.”

That made sense, as you could imagine if he didn’t feel like partying one night it would be kind of hard to avoid. You followed him up, the sound of the music fading as you made your way higher into the frat house. You passed other girls on the way you exchanged hugs and promises to catch up after chapter on Monday night. Finally, you made it to the third floor, and Harry pushed open the door to a room with his name on it.

You followed him in and the first thing you noticed was how much of a boy’s room it was. Messy comforter, clothes on the floor, alcohol bottles lining the window sill, the frat’s flag above his bed. Some posters and photos littered the opposite wall, a single framed photo of what looked like his family on his dresser, along with some random items like cologne and a brush and hair ties. A pair of athletic shoes and boots were shoved into one corner, and a tub of protein powder sat on top of his mini-fridge, along with a stack of solo cups. On his desk was a bong and a couple of lighters, his computer sitting next to it on a charger. The dorm room was narrow, most of it taken up with a double bed that you were a bit confused by, since most rooms just had a single.  

“Sorry, it’s kind of a mess,” he said, shutting the door behind you. If you focused on it, you could hear nerves in his voice, a low laugh in the back of his throat as he surveyed his room. “Didn’t expect to have people up here.”

“It’s fine,” you told him, moving into the middle of the room to get out of the doorway, taking in the space.

“Uh, I’ve got Tito’s, Jack, some gin one of the guys got me.”

It drew you back to the whole reason you were in his room. He was standing next to his mini-fridge, a solo cup in his hand as he looked at you. “What mixers do you have?”

“Coke, juice, and tonic,” he replied. “Sorry, it’s not much.”

You shook your head. “Tito’s and tonic,” you told him. Usually you would’ve been all over the Jack and coke option, but considering how much you’d already drank the last thing you needed was to mix clear and dark liquors.

You watched him pour, leaning against his desk as you waited. He handed you the cup, asking you to try it and tell him if it was too strong. You took a sip and it was strong, but not too much. Then, he made a whiskey and coke you were jealous of, and the two of you stood in his room, not quite sure what to do. You didn’t want to go back down the party, the feeling of fresh air—even though it smelled vaguely like college boy, a mixture of sweat and cologne that you keenly recognized—feeling good on your skin.

“Want to listen to some music?” He asked, moving towards you. There was a bluetooth speaker on his desk, you realized,  and shifted away so he could get at his computer.  

You decided to sit on the bed, thighs resting on the soft comforter. “Sure.” You pulled your cigarettes and lighter from your back pocket, before looking back at him.

He fiddled with the speaker, the sound of it connecting ricocheting in the small room, before clicking keys to wake up his computer. “Any preferences?”

“I’m good with whatever,” you replied. “I like pretty much everything.” It was true, you had everything from country to Top 40s and rap on your Spotify, a variety of playlists to fit the mood.

He pulled on his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger as he perused his Spotify and you tried not to focus on the sight. Low music began to sound in the room and you immediately recognized the beginning notes of Let Her Go by 6LACK,  a smile drifting onto your face. He must have noticed, because he turned around, his cup in his hand. “You like 6LACK?”

“More like obsessed,” you replied and he chuckled.

He sat on the edge of the desk, his knees falling open, his back slumped a bit. “I don’t know a single girl who even knows who he is.”

You took a sip of your drink before replying, resting your body back on one hand. “They must not have good music taste, then.”

Harry gave you a small smile, an edge of playfulness to it. “Where’s home for you?”

“Denver,” you responded. “You?”

“Holmes Chapel.”

“Where’s that?”

He brushed a hand through his hair, the long locks slipping between his fingers and you couldn’t help but wish you were the one doing it. “South of Manchester. It’s a small town, lots of fields and shit like that.”

You’d never been to England so you had no idea of where Manchester was, but you didn’t ask. “Do you like it?”

He shrugged. “It’s fine. I don’t want to like, move back or anything. But it’s a good place to go home to.”

Denver felt the same way to you—it was home, but it wasn’t a place you saw a future in. You’d go where law school took you, and then the work, wherever you could make the biggest impact. “Where do you want to go?”

The solo cup hung in his hands, and he twirled it a bit, the rim of the cup pressed between his fingers. “LA, maybe. New York. Not sure, really. London, most likely, unless I can get a job and someone to sponsor my Visa so I can stay.”

“Do you like the states?” You knew you were asking a lot of questions, but you’d never had a conversation like this with him and you were curious. Curious about him, about who he was, underneath all the frat shit that he loved so much.

“It’s different than home,” he replied, and you understood what he meant. “I don’t think I’ll want to be here forever, but it’s good for right now. Got friends here now.”

You took another sip of your drink, and then pushed yourself up, the need to pee suddenly overtaking your body. “Where’s the bathroom?”  

“Down the hall. Make sure you slam on the door before locking it—it got fucked up during homecoming and hasn’t been the same ever since.”

You nodded and took your cup with you, four years of college ingraining some lessons into your bones. Down the hall, you found a blond wood door and a doorknob that was barely attached to the door. You pushed it open and shut it quickly, shoving against it with your shoulder so that you could flip the lock. Inside, you wondered for the millionth time why boys were in capable from having a properly stocked bathroom. Head & Shoulders shampoo littered the floor of the shower,  a flimsy shower curtain that had come free from a couple of the rings. You squatted to pee, grabbing the toilet paper roll that sat on top of the toilet, no one even bothering to properly put it away.

As you peed, you scrolled through your phone. Mallory had texted saying she was going bar hopping with some of her friends and you told her to text you if she needed anything and a heart, before checking her on Find My Friends to see she was, in fact at a bar. Then you texted your group chat with Emily and Alexis and Maya, who had asked how you were doing. You told them you were with Harry and most likely going to be here for a while, which got excited responses and Alexis sent the eggplant emoji, which made you snort. They told you to text you if you ended up staying the night so they could keep track of where you were, which you agree to do.

When you went to wash your hands, you rolled your eyes because of course they couldn’t even buy hand soap. You went to the shower and found a bottle of body wash, and squirted some into your hands before going back to the sink, rinsing them off. Then you looked at your face in the mirror, eyeliner and mascara still in tact, but your hair was a disaster. You pulled the bun free and let your hair tumble down your back, running through it with your fingers to calm the strands that were askew.

Standing the mirror, you had the opportunity to consider your choices. Did you want to hook up with Harry? Yes. That was a clear answer, despite your alcohol-hazed mind. Did he want to? Most likely—every indication had pointed towards yes. So your mind was made up as you pulled the door open and made your way back to his room, your phone tucked into your jeans and solo cup in your hand.

“You guys really need soap.”

He was still sitting on the edge of his desk, scrolling through his phone and sipping on his drink when you came into the room. At the sight of you, he put his phone down. “I know—it’s fucking disgusting. I have my own, though. Sorry for not sharing.”

You set your cup on his dresser, deciding you were done, and moved towards him. “It’s fine. I made do.” His eyes trailed down your front, the sexual tension thick in the room. When he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and chewed on it, you decided fuck it you were done waiting.

You crossed the space between the two of you in second, slotting yourself between his knees. His hands found your waist immediately, his solo cup moving to rest on the table once your body was pressed to his. Without pausing, you pressed your lips to his, reconnecting them in a fire—you needed him, you wanted him, you craved his hands on your skin. Now that you were alone, it was like you couldn’t hold yourself together and neither could he. His hands moved up and down your back, tugging you into his chest as your hands curled in his long hair. Lips fought for dominance, teeth tugging and tongues pressing for more. When he licked into your mouth a wet moan left your lips and you pressed into the crotch of his pants without even meaning to.

6LACK was still flowing through the speaker, and the smooth RnB just adding to the desire rolling through your body. When his lips dropped to your neck, sucking and biting on your skin, a desperate, filthy noise fell from your mouth and you couldn’t help but smile when Harry grunted into you. “I—fuck,” he mumbled, squeezing at your hips.

Suddenly your clothes were too warm, burning against your skin. You leaned back and pulled at the hem of your tank top, pulling it up over your head and letting it fall to the floor. Harry’s eyes went wide, blown out irises from alcohol and desire criss-crossing over your body. “You can touch me,” you said, confidence coursing through your veins and just desperate for him to do something.

He didn’t hesitate, pulling you back into him and attaching his mouth to the swell of your breast, right above the lace of your bra. Hot breath on your skin had you keening into him, back arching up into his mouth, your fingers tugging into his hair. You loved his hair, having something to hold onto and anchor yourself, and from the pleased hums he liked it too. His hands fumbled with your bra clasp, and when he got it free and pulled the material away, he pulled your nipple into his mouth and you audibly sighed. When he sucked on it, then laved over it with his tongue you couldn’t help but buck into him. You were putty in his arms and he had barely done anything.

Your hands pulled at his shirt, the desire to see his skin overwhelming you. He didn’t make you wait, helping you tug it over his head, and let it drop to the floor. Black ink scattered across his skin, words and images that made a million questions swirl in your mind. The G on his shoulder, the ship on his bicep, the name Jackson scrawled above a rose, the swallows across his collarbones and a butterfly on his stomach. He sat there, chest heaving as he caught his breath and your fingers brushed his skin, curiosity getting the better of you.

“Y/N,” he rasped, “bed?”

“Yes.” The word fell from your lips with ease, and he was backing you into it immediately, hands in your hair and lips on yours. Your bare chests touching sent you into overdrive, the brush of your nipples on his warm skin, a sheen of sweat covering both of you from dancing all night.

The comforter was plush underneath your back as you scrambled up the length of his bed, his body following yours immediately. Your legs fell apart so he could fit between you, and when he did, his dick rested right against your clothed clit and it made you gasp. “Feel good?” He mumbled, the words a haze in your ears as he plucked your lips between his.

All you could do was buck up, your knees finding either side of him. You wanted to be on top, to be in control. You wanted to grind on him properly, after waiting for so long. With a hand at his chest, you pushed slightly, enough for him to move back. He must have understood what you wanted because he flopped onto the bed next to you, one hand on either of your thighs and you mounted him, your ass sitting on the top of his thighs.

When you moved your center over his dick, both of you groaned, deep and drawn out, your head thrown back in pleasure. It was bliss, after so much waiting, to finally be able to do this, his hands crawling from your thighs to your hips to hold you in place, exactly where he wanted you. You put your hands on his chest to hold yourself up, and let your hips find a sinful rhythm, one that was making pleasure curl in your stomach. Pants left your mouth, matched by Harry, who was watching you as if you were a fucking art exhibit, eyes trying to take in every inch of you. Fingernails curled into his skin, red marks that you expected to be there tomorrow, when he nudged at your clit, and you rubbed that spot a few more times, his name falling from your lips in a beg. “Harry.”

That had him moving, pulling your lips down to his so he could kiss you again, his fingers cradling the back of your head. It was just rough enough where you were scrambling to catch up and it felt good, that this was consuming every part of your brain. You rolled your hips again, your hands pressing into the pillow under his head. Then, you felt his thighs agains your ass, and he was pushing up into you, making him snugly flush against you, the only thing between you two being your clothes.

Which you wanted off, and wanted off now. You moved back, crawling between his legs, and his eyes followed you, panting as he watched you pop the button on his pants. He lifted his hips to help you and you tugged the tight skinny jeans that showed every inch of his thickness underneath them down his legs. Then, you pulled on his briefs, and he was bare in front of you, exactly as you wanted him. Your jeans were constricting your movement so you turned tot he side, pulling the denim off of your body so you were left in your underwear.

Then you were on him again, but this time, it was your hand on his dick, fingers running up the length of him.

“Fuck,” he said, voice husky in your ears. He was gorgeous underneath you, desperation making his eyebrows crease, his long hair a mess on the pillow. Why had you waited so long to act on this desire? You suddenly couldn’t remember.

He watched you spit onto his most sensitive part, and then slide your hand over him, spreading the moisture. He hissed at the feeling and you knew you wouldn’t be able to last long here—he was already hard, his tip red and throbbing. The fact that you had him this turned on and you’d barely done anything made your ego soar, to be honest. You pumped him three times before licking up the underside of him, his hands curling in the comforter, a stream of curses falling from his lips.

When you took him into your mouth, a low, rough grunt filled the room and you smiled. You hollowed your cheeks and immediately took him all the way into your mouth, resisting the urge to gag when he hit the back of your throat. “Shit,” he rasped. “You—shit.”  

You’d done what you were about to give him just a handful of times before, only with people who you knew you would feel pleasure from too when they did it, and trusted. And Harry fit both of those categories, because he could fucking smile and you’d want to fuck him. So you grabbed his hand and placed it on the back of your head, before taking him all the way to the back of your throat. Your mouth was full of him and it felt so good.

“Want me to fuck your mouth?” His eyes were glimmering in the light, completely focused on you. You were happy you had left the lights on, because it meant you could every inch of him, every reaction you drew from him.

In response, you licked at his tip, hoping he knew that meant yes.

He seemed to, because he curled his fingers into your hair and pushed his hips up, his tip hitting your throat immediately. You groaned around his dick and he cursed at the vibrations. Then, he kept his hips on the bed and instead pulled you up and down him, fucking your mouth just as you had wanted. You couldn’t do much from this position, so you focused on inhaling through your nose and running your hands over his skin, scratching at the butterfly on his torso. Leaving reminders of this night, of you, on his body.

“Shit,” he mumbled, pulling you off. “I—I have to stop. But, shit, you feel so good, babe.”

The pet name made you smile, sitting back on your heels to wipe at your mouth, the taste of his salty precum still on your tongue. “Do you have a condom?” You asked, because all that you had done had left you more than ready—you needed him inside of you.

Harry’s eyes went wide and he scrambled up. “Fuck,” he exhaled, grabbing at his desk drawer and pulling it open. Watching him look through his drawers completely naked was, you had to admit, a bit amusing, but you kept your thoughts to yourself. He wrenched another drawer open, tossing the contents about as he looked. Then he sighed, and looked back at you. “I’m out.”

“Go find one,” you told him, leaning back against the wall, letting your knees drop open to show your underwear. You could feel the wet spot on them and you knew he saw it too. “I’ll wait here.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll—yeah I’ll find one.” He pulled on his jeans, not even bothering with his briefs, eyes flickering to you every once and a while. “Shit, I’ll—I’ll be back.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at how flustered he was, pushing open his door and letting it slam shut behind him. Through the door you could hear him knocking on the door next to his, some muffled words, and then him knocking again. He was going fucking door to door looking for a condom, you realized with amusement. Then, the patter of feet on the stairs, and you knew he was going downstairs, that no one else was in their rooms.

While you waited, you grabbed your phone and scrolled through it. Caught up on texts, liked shit on Instagram, checked Snapchat even though you barely used the app. Most people were at bars, as far as you could tell, but it looked like they’d set back up pong downstairs according to Emily’s story.

All of a sudden, feet pounded on the stairs and you knew it was Harry. You pushed your phone back onto the desk, and when the door opened, he was standing there holding probably ten condoms. “How many did you get?”

He looked down at the wad in his hand and visibly blushed. “I—I thought I’d re-stock.”

You let it slide, even though you knew exactly why he got so many. He was hoping you’d have a couple rounds, and  you were not opposed to the idea. “Come here,” you said, and let your legs fall back open.

He was on you in second, his pants kicked down his legs as he moved and you were surprised he didn’t trip. Hands found your skin and he pushed you up the bed, this time he was the one hovering over you, lips drawing eager mewls from you. You pressed your hips into his unclothed erection and he cursed, a grimace crossing his face that you knew was from him restraining himself. “Can I take these off?” He asked, fingers pulling at your underwear.

“Please,” you replied and that made him smile at you. He peeled them down your legs, tossing them to the ground, a forgotten memory. Then he brushed a finger over your slit and you gasped, cool touch sending waves of pleasure through you. “Need you.” The two words made his head snap up from where he was looking at your pussy, eyes connecting with yours.

“I was going to go down on you,” he said, and although the thought was tantalizing, you needed him inside of you.

You shook your head. “Later.”

Harry wasn’t complaining. He grabbed one of the condoms from his desk and ripped it open, rolling it down his dick with a concentrated gaze. Then, he crawled up your body, reconnecting your lips, and you both sighed at the feeling of his dick rolling against your center. “Okay?” He asked, pulling away just a hair to check in.

“Please,” you begged, and that had him moving immediately.

He tugged one of your legs around his waist, and then he gripped his dick, brushing his tip to your slit once, twice, three times. On the third time, though, he pressed in, and your wetness accepted him immediately, allowing him to push in about halfway before he stopped.

It burned a bit—mainly just from his size, which was bigger than most other guys you’d been with. You hands scrambled across his chest, grabbing at his skin, struggling to get your breathing under control. “You’re big,” you said, unable to stop the words that fell from your lips.

A cocky smile drifted over his face and you mentally kicked yourself for adding to his ego. “Can I move?” He asked though and you nodded. His head bobbed down, and you realized he was watching where you two were connected as he pulled back and then pushed in all the way. A choked moan left your mouth and a similar one sounded from Harry’s, although his had a string of curses attached. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he rasped, hands adjusting so they were next to your head, his face above yours. “Fuck.”

You were about to tell him to move when he did it on his own accord, pulling out and back into you, the impact making your body shift on the comforter. There was a very real possibility of you having sore legs tomorrow, but you really didn’t give a fuck because he felt so good. “Holy shit,” you babbled, those words the only ones you could find as he thrusted in and out of you, finding a rhythm that made you both pant with pleasure.

Sounds drifted out of you without you even realizing, something that always happened when you had drunk sex. You couldn’t control yourself as much, unable to process how loud you were being, what you were saying. Looking back you couldn’t even remember exactly what you had said, but you knew it was a mess of curses and his name and God and just pants and mewls that were feeding Harry like a fucking three course meal.

He loved your sounds, used them to figure out what you liked, where to move and shift. You could tell because when you’d let out a sharp gasp he’d say, “Yeah, there? That’s the spot?” and drive in and out of you, hitting your g-spot perfectly with every move of his hips. Your hands were clutching at his hair as he thrusted into you, your ankles hooked around his lower back, and your body was desperate for release.

But you could also tell he was not going to last. His eyes were heavy, eyelids drawing shut with pleasure, fingers curling in the pillow next to you. Shoulders tensing and abdomen tight as he swiveled his hips, a broken moan falling between you. “Close,” he finally said, and dropped down to his elbows, so his face hovered above yours, only a hair away. “You feel so good, shit, oh my god—how do you feel so good?” His words were broken and that made them even better, that he had no control over what he was saying.

“Want you to come,” you babbled, “want to feel it, come on Harry, come for me, please, I need it.”

“Holy fuck—“ that had him snapping into you, hips slapping against yours, the sound of skin on skin overpowering the music that still played in the background. You gripped his shoulders when his head hung in the crook of your shoulder, and you knew he was about to come.

So you said one more thing. “I need you to come, Harry, please.” The words came out as a beg, exactly as you intended. His hips were stuttering immediately, curses falling between you like a broken record, repeating over and over again as he shot into the condom. He smattered kisses on your shoulder as he collapsed into you, sweat sticking to your skin.

He laid there for a second, panting, and you didn’t mind, even though you desperately needed to come. Perhaps it was how you clamped down on him, or you shifted your hips to feel slightly more of him, but Harry seemed to figure out what you needed. He lifted his head, took one look at you, and then pulled out, ripping off the condom and tossing it into his trash before crawling down your legs.

When his tongue licked your slit, you mewled his name, your hands moving into his hair immediately. You tugged and pulled on it as he licked over you, drawing circles that pulled desire from your flesh. And then he went inside, darting his deftly skilled tongue into you and practically thrusting it into you. His thumb brushed across your nub and you let our a shuddering moan, bucking up into his face. You were close—insanely close—the combination of his tongue inside of you and the thumb on your nub drawing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Harry,” you rasped, voice broken from panting. “I’m close.”

He seemed double his effort, tongue moving in and out of you at double time, his thumb brushing a brutal pace over you. You were twisting in his arms, hips bucking, curses leaving your lips. And when he pulled his thumb away and sucked on your clit, that’s when you came, in a mess of his name and broken gasps, choking on air. Your fingers curled tightly in his hair, anchoring his face to your center as you came, bucking up into him. He didn’t mind though, he just held your hips and took it, licking at you to draw out all of your aftershocks. Your eyes squeezed shut and your mind was a mess, swirling without the ability to grasp onto a single thread of thought, just a mess under his lips.

When you finally regained the ability to breathe, you pulled your hands from his hair and he sat up. You watched in awe as he licked his lips, gathering your juice, and swallowed them, a smile on his face. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re really good at that?”

He gave you a cocky expression and then flopped down next to you. “They have, in fact.”

“Good. I’d be concerned about the other girls if they hadn’t.”

He laughed, and then pulled you into his body. You were surprised at his desire to cuddle, but you weren’t mad. “You can stay if you want. There’s people downstairs still and it’s cold out.”

You propped your head up on his shoulder. “There’s also all those condoms.”

“That’s true. Wouldn’t want them to go to waste.”

You trailed your fingers up his torso. “Might have to just stay the whole weekend if we’re trying to use them all.”

His eyebrows quirked, but he wasn’t mad at the prospect. “Wanna be my study break for the weekend?”

You smirked, leaning up to quickly peck his lips. “As long as you’re mine.”

He hauled your body on top of his and curled his fingers into your hair. “We’ll get your shit in the morning, then.”

“It’s a deal.” You kissed him, lips slotting against one another, slower and less hurried than before, but that same undercurrent of desire stringing between you two. You were already grinding into him, hips brushing over his as you moved.

Suddenly, a pounding sound came from the door, and you froze. “Fuck off!” Harry called, pulling the comforter that had ended up at the bottom of the bed over the two of you.

“Fuck—sorry—I need a condom, man.” The words were muffled, but you heard them all the same.

Harry snorted, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Go ask Nick,” he replied, “and leave me the fuck alone.” His hands grabbed at you, kneading into your ass, and you licked at his nipple.

It was going to be a long weekend.

SEND ME CONCEPTS ABOUT Y/N AND HARRY!

[thoughtfulmagazinepaper]

Unusual Encounters Pt.2

"Emotions are overrated."

Read part one, it's on my page :)

This follows the life of Valentino Alexander Padilla, you get the idea.

A/N, just letting you guys know this is likely going to be a genuinely drawn out series, I'll probably write quick stuff like one shots in the future, but for now my main focus is this story. If you have any requests just let me know, or any suggestions about this story. I've watched all of sons of anarchy plus I'm caught up on Mayans M.C. so DW about spoilers. Anyways enjoy!

Words: 2825

As I tailed Angel and Atlas, I took my very first good look at Santo Padre. I noticed a lot more shops and vendors than the ones right outside my house. I've never seen anything so lively- at least not in sad, depressing Ukraine- but it was beautiful. It would be much better without the heat, though. They were right, they do ride fast, but I ride just as fast as they do. I felt the hot wind blow through my hair, stinging my face. Luckily I wore glasses or I'd probably lose my damn sight from all the dust Angel was kicking up in front of me. Eventually though, we arrived at the scrapyard, a mostly bald man opened the gate for us, and I parked my bike right next to Atlas's.

The scrapyard felt surprisingly homey, there was a trailer and dust in the air, the shade of the motorcycle port felt nice- my thoughts were cut off by Angel, getting off his bike and asking me about my model.

"Oh- the model is vintage, a 1980's Harley softtail." I clarified, giving him a weak smile. I kicked open the stand, taking a real good look at the scrapyard.

The clubhouse had a porch painted green and a closed door- probably to keep the heat out. I could see motion in the trailer, but that was none of my business, so I looked away. My attention turned to Angel and Atlas.

"So?" I asked.

"Let's get the fuck inside first," Atlas whined. "Its way to hot to have a casual conversation out here." And with that, we went inside.

I opened the door, Angel and Atlas following behind me. I wiped off my clothes and my face, someone with a prospect patch gave me a damp rag to get rid of the dirt.

"Thanks, prospect." I coughed out. "Get us some water too, it's way too fucking hot out there."

Angel nodded to the prospect in the direction of the cooler, signaling for him to get water. The prospect was shorter than me, with an almost buzz cut and a decent build.

"Sorry I dusted you back there, usually they have the roads sprayed by now." Angel said, he seemed genuine, so I nodded to him. "Yeah, it happens, Don't sweat it-"

I was cut off by a short man with curly hair and a beard. "Valentino? What are you doing here-?"

"Hey, uncle." I said, smiling wide. He laughed and hugged me, rocking me back and forth despite me being almost double his size. He let go of me, and I finally had enough energy to look at the clubhouse as a whole.

There was some music playing, two guys putting their pool match on pause to size me up, 2 other guys sitting on bar stools, and an overall comfortable setting. My thoughts were cut off by the prospect coming back with our waters. "Here you go, both of you." He said, we both nodded in respect. A short and scrawny one stood up off the bar stool and held out his hand. "I'm Coco, got a nickname?" He asked, looking me up and down.

"Call me Hawk." I requested, he looked at me weird.

"Why the fuck are you looking at me like that?" He swore, I shot him a confused look.

"The hell do you mean? I didn't-" Atlas got in between us.

"Nah nah, Coco that's just his resting face. I know he always lookin' like he wants to punch someone in the face." He explained with a nervous laugh. Coco gave him a cautious glare.

"C'mon guys, let's not get into a fight the first minute you meet." Atlas gave Coco a glance.

I held out my hand, looking around at the rest of the guys. They were all staring.

I don't like this.

Coco took it, pulling me into a bro hug. "Aight, just don't go breakin' my jaw now." The guys laughed, approaching me so they could give quick introductions.

"Got any skills?" One of the guys with longer hair asked. "Call me Riz."

"Throwing knives. I can aim really well."

"That's what I like to hear!" Someone said from afar.

Taza?

Taza.

"Uncle Taza!" I laughed, he jogged to give me a hug. He hugged me tight, the guys wooed and laughed, the tension was gone now. Everyone gave me introductions slowly, and I checked my watch.

12:00 P.M.

Good. I started "socializing" with the guys. If you call listening to their conversations and nodding socializing. Despite my quiet demeanor, they made me feel like I knew them for years. I gave all of them a rundown of my situation, and they all said they would help me move in. Even though I've only been in this clubhouse for about 30 minutes, I feel more at home than I've ever felt before.

A few hours later, they took a vote on if I could join the charter. Overwhelming yes. As they gave me my Kutte, Bishop said "you aren't my nephew anymore, you're my brother." All of the guys clapped and cheered, giving me a few free rounds of drinks as the prospect detailed my bike. I felt famous, the president being my blood uncle and the vice president being my uncle by association was kind of a big deal. I was telling a bunch of jokes with the guys while smoking a blunt; being high has always made me less self-conscious. When I noticed a tipsy Angel staring at me. He took me looking as a sign to walk over, then came the big question.

"So like- I don't mean this in a rude way man, but you're kind of odd for some random straight guy.. are y-"

"Am I gay? Yeah."

"Oh shit. Get that question a lot don't ya?"

"Yeah. I do. I get it though, I'm not really the most emotional guy, but some girls like that. I'm kind of bisexual but I'm not sure."

Me and Angel talked for basically the whole night, along with the occasional interruptions from Atlas. The more I talked to him about my hobbies the more I realized how fun this charter was. We talked about hobbies. I suck at social cues. I like libraries and nature, not normal "guy" shit. We ended up getting into a deep conversation about gender and how clothing can make you look way different just from the style you wear, also a huge debate over whether the color brown or yellow is better. (His favorite color is yellow, so it has to be better right?) He seemed actually interested in me and my hobbies, it felt good to have someone listen to you for once.

Our deep conversation was interrupted by a catfight starting, me and Angel jumped to break it up.

"He's MINE! I had him first you BITCH!" The blonde screeched. The blonde pulled her hair and slapped her, but the black haired one got on top of her. You can tell this wasn't her first time.

Me and Atlas made eye contact, he gave me a look as if to ask "you got this?" I nodded.

"You left his lap, so it was only good MANNERS to jump in sweetheart." The black haired one said while pining the blonde down. I grabbed the black haired one by the arms, Angel grabbed the Blonde who was now crying. Basically everyone in the clubhouse had gathered around, the Black haired one pushed me off of her.

"Yo, Chill out Nails. He's new." I heard Atlas say from behind me.

"You are new. What's your name?" She asked, giving me her bedroom eyes.

Atlas gave me a look- a look that says that he knows I'm uncomfortable. So, He tells Nails to chill.

"Not really important..-" I could feel my cheeks getting flushed. All the eyes on me, plus the crying blondie, I was just embarrassed. "You should probably leave, I'll get raging blondie here a ride home." I stated, giving a nervous smile. Angel yelled for the prospect, which I now know as EZ, to give the Blondie a ride home. Taza walked up to me.

"Hey, black hair over there is named Ezian, we call her nails. She's my girl, she can stay." Taza said, he looked pretty embarrassed over the whole situation. "Blondie getting home okay?"

"Yeah," I laughed a bit. "I could smell the alcohol on blondie, so it was probably a drunk issue. Wouldn't be surprised if she threw up all over EZ's car."

Taza let out a laugh, he smiled wide. "You're a good kid, Hawk. You looked a little nervous handling Nails, just don't get on her bad side and you're good." I smiled.

I joined Atlas at one of the tables where most of the guys were. Big mistake. Atlas starts explaining how I used to look before he moved to Santo Padre.

Through a series of me trying to cover his mouth and shushing him, eventually I let it happen.

"This motherfucker used to be 5'8 with SHORT, PIN STRAIGHT hair and ZERO facial hair. When I saw him at the Liquor store I didn't even recognize his ass! He went on and on, while we were all laughing and messing around. "But he has good ass aim with literally anything. He was our sniper and our medic, he mostly dealt with Galindo when he had to talk to us. Life saver honestly, he was kinda our inside guy." Bishop drunkenly patted me on the back, laughing.

"Yo Hawk! wanna come play some pool?" One of the guys shouted, I recognized Angel's voice.

"Yeah, be right over there!" I dapped Bishop up before heading over to the pool table.

I played a pool game with Angel, then another, then another. The commotion from the other guys grew louder, I could hear Bishop telling a bunch of stories at the bar to a few guys willing to listen. I saw Atlas eyeing me and Angel, giving me a knowing look that I rolled my eyes to. He came over to our table, putting his hand on my shoulder as I was aiming.

"Angel, hate to break it to ya' but Hawks' gotta have the second best shot other than Bishop." He remarked, Angel rolled his eyes as I put two balls in the same pocket.

I took a bit of time to look around. I saw people, happy and genuine conversations. Also, a lot of guys with whores on their laps. But, I didn't pay attention to them, I only really cared about what Angel had to say right now. He took his shot, effectively winning by putting the 8 ball in the corner right pocket.

"LOOOSERRRR!" he yelled, he was piss drunk at this point. "Yeah yeah, you win." I laughed, he swung his arm over my shoulder, slurring words about how he had fun and how I should probably drive him home.

Next thing you know, he's in my passenger's seat talking about some of the past parties through drunk hiccups.

"Y'know, one of theseparties, I had threegirls wantingmeatthesame.. *hic* the same ti- *hic*"

"Angel be quiet, I don't want you throwing up all over EZ's car." I said, pushing him back in his seat so he wasn't leaning over the dashboard.

When I got him home, I got him some food and some Graham crackers, making sure he didn't vomit everywhere. I took his Kutte off and he took his shoes off, but not without falling on the floor first. Eventually I dragged him to his bed and I slept on the couch. I checked my watch.

4:00 A.M.

I think I like this town.

[where-is-my-beheading-ceremony]

Aaaaa headcannons!

Claytro edition! (purely based on my personal thoughts)

(note: feel free to enjoy, but if this ship is not something you are interested reading about then I totally understand, have fun scrolling the Nexo Knights tags! ❤️)

-Clay is the only one that has actually managed to touch Jestro's hair, but it was a lot shorter when they were still kids

-These two have regular sleepovers since after Jestro started training to be a royal Jester, they couldn't be roommates anymore

-Yes they were roommates for a few years and Merlok would read them bedtime stories

-Jestro gets cold in his sleep often so Clay would sleep with them to help them feel warmer along with the pile of 3 blankets

-The two also sleep together whenever they feel bad (had a nightmare, stressed, emotional). Less so as adults though since now they barely ever sleep

-Surprisingly, Jestro doesn't fear the cold too much. He doesn't enjoy it more so because of the memories of cold winters in the streets and not because of how cold he's feeling right now.

-Jestro and Clay treated each other with colorful bandages as kids since Jestro used to bruise easily and Clay would get bruises from training

-Jestro and Clay would occasionally text each other in seasons 1-2, more so when there's some celebration. Both wanted to know how the other is doing, but Jestro was far more reserved in giving out info

-Clay even called him on his birthday and snuck to the lava castle to leave a gift l without anyone knowing.

-Jestro did a similar thing, but he just threw a gift at them in the middle of battle because he didn't want to seem suspicious by gifting it genuinely. Clay still understood it and was very pleased

-They made friendship necklaces for each other back when they first met and wore them the whole time

-Clay was the first one to rip off the friendship necklace. Specifically, stone Clay when he first was woken up and still hadn't yet had the chance to remember his bond with Jestro

-Let's pretend Jestro wasn't hurt for the sake of our hearts since that hurt a l o t.

-Jestro had to be zapped after that emotional ride, so fresh with Mondtrox' magic, he too took it off, but kept both his and Clay's necklaces.

-Not long after, these two grow close together again as a duo

-Stone Clay and Corrupt Jestro was the thing that haunted everyone since they worked together and became terrifyingly good at causing mass destruction

-From the outside it didn't seem like they always got along since Stone Clay had some definite anger issues. Jestro always made sure not to talk to him too much during battles since that's when they're most riled up

-The time after battles between the two is spent well. They just hang out and talk, often plotting because they can and Jestro making fun of the knights, as well as giving Stone Clay more reasons to dislike them

-Both of their memories were iffy at that point, so wherever they remembered, they told each other

- Stone Clay was like Jestro's bodyguard who sometimes did a poor job at being one

-Not a day passed where Stone Clay didn't end up carrying Jestro in his arms

-Absolute power duo

-Honestly could've taken down the kingdom

-There's not much Clay could to to stop Monstrox from zapping Jestro

-The first time, he even made sure Jestro wouldn't move, not knowing what to expect and not realizing Jestro felt things completely differently since we'll, he wasn't stone

-The other times Clay just looked away since he still saw Monstrox as the superior out of everyone

-Jestro absolutely loved Clay's new violent nature and Clay absolutely loved how un-hinged Jestro was. The echo to Jestro's voice could even give his stone body shivers

-Jestro treated Stone Clay exactly how someone would treat their ex after he returned to the Knights

-After Season 4, Jestro looked like he'd need life support from how much of a negative impact Monstrox' magic left on him so Clay would occasionally secretly check up on how he's doing even if he's not supposed to interact with Jestro

-Jestro was absolutely not glad to see Clay because he knew that he woukd be the one to get in trouble for it, not the knight.

Now to something happier again!

-Clay always takes any chance given to him to carry Jestro in his arms

-Jestro takes any chance possible to praise Clay's work

-Clay allows Jestro to paint their nails

-Clay is just an absolute himbo, who only has enough braincells to be a knight and leader

-These two have terrible social skills

-Their first kiss was back in their academy days, on one of their last years

-They were both sort of curious is all. But it didn't change much to their friendship since the two didn't feel like they were quite enough for the other

-They still don't have any spoken relationship.

-It's just been mutual simping for each other since their academy days

-The two would be completely content with never being in a relationship their whole lives

-Which is why they need encouragement from others to actually get a move on with their relationship

-Everyone in the academy thought they were a thing. Every single person. But it wasn't spoken about much since it became the usual thing.

-At the start however, there were many rumors and a lot of gossiping. People were worried for Clay's reputation when he himself didn't even feel worried about it.

-Clay is comically stubborn when it comes to seperating him from Jestro.

-Jestro let's go a lot easier, even if he doesn't want to.

-The amount of times Clay had cornered Jestro with both his arms and thought it was a casual thing to do is ridiculous.

-Jestro learns a lot more when Clay helps him study than when he studies in class

-Surprisingly, both performed a lot better whenever they had a task to do together.

-Since Clay doesn't brag about himself, Jestro makes sure to tell as many great things as possible about Clay. Like he'd tell heroic, almost over the top stories about whatever Clay does to other students

-Clay has definitely used Jestro as a weight for an exercise before

-Jestro seems like a mom whenever something bad happens to Clay. He always takes care of them and scolds them on a caring matter

-The amount of shock the teachers were when Clay had gotten into a fight with other students was definitely something.

-But Jestro definitely understood why Clay acted out. Yes he's a model student, but Clay always has to force himself not to speak out, frustration can build up.

-Jestro only wishes it wasn't because some students went overboard on throwing hurtful words towards Jestro and then later Clay. This happened when they were still quite young

-Jestro would wait for Clay when he had to sit through multiple detentions because of that one event

-Jestro's language is words

-Clay's love language is acts of service

-These two till this day have to hug at least once a week

-Clay only dares to show all of his sides around Jestro and Jestro gladly helps them express their frustrations and such. Clay even feels comfortable enough to openly complain about people that have been getting on his nerves.

-Jestro doesn't understand why Clay treats him almost like a porcelain doll. The knight doesn't even dare to hold his hand too tightly and always waits a second to be sure if he can touch Jestro in any way, like a hug.

-Clay is just very worried of causing even the smallest bits of discomfort to Jestro

-Jestro meanwhile doesn't hesitate for a second and nearly tackle hugs Clay instead of going for the careful approach

-Both often times speak out their minds about each other unintentionally so it would go like

"Clay I could just hold your face and kiss you right now!... Wait-I just couldn't think of a better way to explain my joy for my bestest friend ahahaha, yeah-"

"Jestro I'm, so glad to see you're doing well, I couldn't have handled seeing someone I love hurt by that-...because you're my best friend... Yes!"

-Jestro from the very start was a shameless hoarder of Clay's clothes. Whatever he gave them, he gladly accepted

-Whenever Jestro made something for Clay, Clay would spent half an hour staring at it, afraid to ruin it some way by using the thing gifted to him. Same goes with whatever pastries he gets, he feels almost guilty for eating them

-Clay has a few Plush toys that Jestro got him and Jestro's collection mostly consists of the ones Clay got him

-Jestro hasn't moved out of Knightonia only because Clay gives bear hugs and he absolutely loves them

-If given the chance, Jestro would sacrifice much more than Clay could for him even if it doesn't seem like it

-These two would always play hide and seek in Merlok's library and around the castle even as teens at times

-Both of them encourage each other to be childish when they want to be

-Clay has pulled a Romeo so many times and came to the castle late in the evening just to talk to Jestro through their balcony

-Jestro can actually play violin. He's not perfect, but he definitely knows how to play it. He convinced himself he's bad at it since his bad luck always causes the strings to snap

-Jestro has played violin for Clay whenever they're sick to keep them amused

-Jestro once thought about running away in the academy and Clay was so ready to run with them so Jestro immediately threw that idea aside

-These two are like baby ducklings, they follow each other closely almost all the time

-Clay used to always be the one to say "He asked for no pickles" but after Season 4 and Jestro's absolute disappointment in the kingdom and it's people, he became the one to say "he asked for no pickles"

-Clay is glad that after season 4, Jestro started paying almost no mind to how people of Knightonia view him, but it makes him a bit worried even. Especially when Jestro just uses the people's own feelings towards him for his own advantage:

.

Shop keeper: YOU! Came here to steal all my baked goods, burn the place to the ground???

Jestro:... yes.

Shop keeper: what-

Jestro: I just said yes. Now can I get some of those caramel croissants.

Shop keeper now worried for their life: o-oh! Here! They're on the house!!!!

Jestro coming out of the bakery: Here Clay, I got us some of those fresh baked ones!

Clay:...was it on the house again?

Jestro:...mmm...yes?

Clay lightly sighing and going in to pay for it.

.

-Jestro feels sour enough towards Merlok that after season 4, he feels the need to protect Clay from whatever they might say and makes sure there isn't anything they decided to keep secret from them

Last, but not least:

-no matter what happens in their lives, these two will always find a way to keep close to each other, even if it takes time. Couple or not, they're soulmates that will never move on from each other. Inseparable by fate itself.

[sourwormsaresour]

Headcanons on the type of pets La Squadra would own?

Holy shit this was too fun to make, especially with giving the pets names.

Sorbet and Gelato have their own Crusty-White-Dog™ that's a Maltese Terrier named Armani. The dog hates and barks nonstop at everything deemed threatening (aka, everyone and particularly the rest of La Squadra) and yet those two will claim she's the sweetest thing in the world. True to her name, they deck her with Armani branded clothes, either specially made dog fashion or they had a DIY done to make it look like an Armani outfit- down to the bright pink leash she wears dripping in the Armani logo. She eats the finest dry kibble and only drinks Ferrarelle Sparkling water; she will know the difference if you switch it up. She's the epitome of "I demand pets but only do so with your eyes" to everyone. Despite loving Sorbet and Gelato the most, she demands all their attention on her and she will cockblock those two if she catches them being affectionate to each other instead. Despite having a nice bed, she always sleeps between the two of them and will whimper if they kick her out of the bedroom so they can get intimate. Those tear-stained eyes always look like they've seen everything, despite being constantly babied by her owners. If Armani could, she would kill everyone.

Risotto, the biggest man in Vento Aureo, has a little Syrian hamster he called Ace. He thought that a pet with a shorter lifespan would allow him the perfect balance of having a pet but not being very attached to it compared to pets that live longer- he was wrong. If you ever come into Risotto's office as he worked, either you are greeted with Ace running around in his green hamster ball, walking around Risotto's desk as he worked, or running in the hamster wheel behind the desk. Ace's tank is an old Aquarium tank Pesci gave to Risotto that is now full of soft bedding, toys, and Risotto frequently cleans it. There are days where Risotto just spends hours watching his hamster walk around the room, eating little treats, and staring at Risotto with its beady eyes. It's gotten to the point where you can't walk into Risotto's office without noticing a lone sunflower seed or piece of bedding on the ground that Risotto didn't notice until you pointed it out. Every time Ace passes from old age, Risotto buys a new Syrian hamster and calls that one Ace. He hasn't kept track of how many hamsters that came and went so far, but treated every one of them as if they were the first Ace. He takes pictures of Ace doing the most relatively boring things and will share them with his members.

Illuso got a Sulphur-crested cockatoo named Scapino as a joke. He thought they didn’t require much attention but later felt bad when he found out that they need specific proper care. He proceeds to care for it as if it was his child. Illuso taught his bird how to speak and swear at people, specifically swearing at Formaggio and occasionally at Ghiaccio. This man will shower his bird with the best treats (expensive nuts, dried fruit, chicken bones) and has a special bar for it to perch on when they're in the shower together. This bird has free reign all over Illuso's place and wears a little anklet thing to verify that it has an owner should it escape. The two of them have spa days together and it’s one of the most wholesome things in the world to witness. Scapino will actually join Illuso on missions too, staying in the mirror world the whole time, and it provides him some comfort from his social anxiety. Sometimes Scapino sits on his shoulder as he walks. Illuso trained it to stay and hide in the mirror world so that it wouldn’t fly away or blow his cover when he’s working. But the bird will fly around in there and will watch anyone that’s getting murked in front of him with no remorse and commenting on it too. Imagine you’re dying in the mirror world and your last moment is this fucking bird looming over you going “night night, motherfucker”. JESUS CHRIST. 

Prosciutto used to be on the whole “pets are unnecessary” train but he had considered looking at breeders for the best quality dog. And then one rainy day he found an abandoned Portuguese Water Dog puppy in an alleyway and at Pesci’s insistence took it in. Turns out the puppy was bought by a rich family for their kid but then abandoned when the kid wasn't interested in it anymore. Prosciutto insisted that the dog was going to stay for one night and then sent to the pound first thing in the morning. It's been years now and the little dog is now a big fluffy good boy named Pon Pon. The second biggest chunk of Prosciutto's paycheck is for this dog; I'm talking grooming services with paw-ticures, an all-organic raw diet, the nicest beds that even a human would wish they can sleep on. Pon Pon is properly trained with all the basics and tricks, because Prosciutto doesn't want to deal with a misbehaving dog, but it will use puppy eyes against the old man now and then. He give you the best smiles if you call him a good boy and if you glance at the right time you can see Prosciutto smile for a brief moment. Had he lived longer, he would have made Pon Pon famous on Facebook like Boo the Dog. Prosciutto will also not admit that this dog has helped him get laid a few times, because every person he did bring home always got a kick out of Pon Pon.

Ghiaccio has a pet snake- an albino ball python named Bianco. Ghiaccio was also on the “pets are unnecessary” train too but mainly because he can't stand loud pets (i.e. Illuso and Sorbet and Gelato’s pets). When Risotto suggested he get a snake, Ghiaccio looked into it, researching and meticulously setting up the proper enclosure  and found himself going to a local reptile expo to find Bianco for sale. He’s fascinated by his snake to say the least, and would use leftover containers or Tupperware for Bianco to spend more money on proper equipment or food. Ghiaccio is really involved in online reptile forums and frequently debates with people on topics such as the best substrates to use, whether live rodents are better than frozen, ethics of breeding certain species, etc. He often gets worried when Bianco becomes picky and Ghiaccio would spend sleepless nights trying to get his baby to eat. Ghiaccio would walk around with his ball python wrapped around his neck or lets him slither around in his room under supervision but he mostly leaves him alone in the enclosure. There are times where he would claim he has the best, smartest pet and everyone just rolls their eyes like “yes the white fettuccine that got stuck in a toilet paper roll an hour ago is so smart”. But they let him rant about it. It’s kind of cute to say the least.

Pesci is the definition of people whose entire LIVELIHOOD is making his room into an aquarium. His room is full of strictly maintained, cleaned, and decorated tanks full of various types of aquatic animals. I’m talking Dwarf Puffers (Antonio, Portia, Jessica, Bassiano, and Solanio), Albino Gold Axolotls (Moe, Larry, and Curly), Red Ear Sliders (Franco and Ciccio), Clown Fishes (Browser, Mario, Toadstool, and Koopa), Brazilian Sea Horses (Tom and Jerry), a Blue Betta Fish named Valentina in a 30+ gallon aquaponics tank that grows a variety of plants each season- to name a few. He rebuilt his entire room to keep everything running and even had Melone help him set up timers for lighting and temperature control. Pesci will cry if you somehow made the pH level off by 1 or did not care for his animals properly when he’s away. He’ll even lecture you about bad tank setup. He's a prominent member of the aquarium  community in Italy and will regularly redecorate each tank to suit the year and mood. This is where he’s spending his cut on the 20 million lira job: caring for his mini aquarium room. He occasionally gives away his pets’ offsprings for extra money (he doesn’t breed but sometimes he ends up having a ton of baby animals he can’t take care of) and would have been a YouTuber for his fish content. Now that I think about it, Pesci reminds me of my mutual @nexter2nd. Please go follow them.

Melone has a Holland Lop bunny and you cannot change my mind. He actually had a pet bunny growing up, another Holland Lop named Echo and Grep, and his current one is named Sudo; all three are named after UNIX commands. He has a large dog crate he diy-ed to be a roomy enclosure in his room for her that he cleans frequently but also allows Sudo free reign of the room when she wants to go out. Because of his job, he makes sure all his wires are covered so his bunny isn't tempted to chew them and watches his bunny diligently whenever she roams around. Easter time is when the denim jacket, pastel bows, and flower crowns come out and Melone makes sure to take a lot of photos. He also housetrained his bunny and taught her a few tricks, similar to how he trained Echo and Grep years ago. Sudo is spoiled in terms of getting a lot of pets, new toys, and feasts on the finest veggies and delicious hay. Melone also makes sure the first thing he teaches his Juniors is to not harm the bunny. Surprisingly, he's against breeding Sudo and has her neutered. This is mainly because he doesn't have the time to breed and raise more bunnies but also he hates the idea of selling the grown bunnies off afterward. 

You know that Formaggio has a cat: the little Russian Blue cat named Sweetie Baby. Sweetie Baby was a kitten that he found outside his home. The little thing was the sole survivor of its litter and nearly starving to death, so he took her in thinking he will bring her to the shelter when she recovers; that cat now lets him live in HER apartment rent-free. Despite feeding her cheap dry food and constantly shoving her into bottles, he treats her like a queen otherwise. He will dress her up in little outfits (much to her annoyance) and often would be too aggressively affectionate towards her. Still, there are moments where she would cuddle with him during the later nights and allow him to put on one iced-out bow he just spent a quarter of his paycheck on. Walking to his apartment and even the backdoor of La Squadra’s HQ means carefully walking through the stray cats mewling at your feet, because Formaggio will feed any cat he sees. Initially, Risotto wanted the cats gone, but then he finds out the cats doubled as security when he watched some robber attempting to break in but getting their eyes scratched off instead.