#three level deck

[itsseasonal]

Modern Deck - Deck a sizable, unadorned deck in the backyard with a fire pit and no covering

[cubbihue]

Genuinely has Timmy ever decked Irep for Peri after all the shenanigans he was put through?

Timmy's certainly felt like decking him once or twice!! But he'd never do it. Timmy knows better than anyone how terrible it feels when you're punished or reprimanded for just.. being yourself. Irep's just a kid, doing what anti-fairy kids do!

But also, Irep went through one hell of a growth spurt at school, and now he's twice Timmy's size. So, Timmy's options are pretty limited now. At best, he could use Anti-Cosmo as a measure to get Irep to listen to him, but it's becoming less effective the older they get.

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

[mantisgodsdomain]

Finally, we get the opportunity to put our Spy Cards worldbuilding in a work. Though there are many questions about such things as "regulation" "how these cards are printed" "who approves a single spy card", and so on, we are here to present a bold new take: this game is based like 60% on obscure roach memory-reading tech that got turned into a card game with absolutely No card-game-related intentions included in the original tech and most of the card vetting is just from the fact that there aren't too many card printers out there and most of them make cards that need to be translated from Roach.

Strictly speaking, as a card game, it is not a terribly good or well-balanced one. It's popular primarily because of a mix of the difficulty involved in getting the data for high-level cards, the fun of seeing the variety of monsters that can be brought to the table, and the incredible amounts of ham and drama that goes into specifically the professional scene.

[yoshifawful64]

i know this is news to nobody but god, duel links's skills are getting out of hand

[akiragatr]

JIMMY SOLIDARITY GAMING????

[convexicalcrow]

(part one) (part two)

Tango wasn't expecting to sense Cub so close to him as he was rifling through his storage in preparation for dungeon maintenance. But he could feel him around, he was-

Tango went over to the open wall, where levels three and four were. Cub felt… like he was… down there? In the dungeon somewhere? But the game wasn't on. There was no- there's no way Cub was in the dungeon, right? Right?

"Hmm. I'd better go check that out. Just in case."

-

It was hard to pinpoint Cub's location, though at least he remained in the same place, as if he wasn't moving. Which, well. That didn't bode very well did it? Unless he was waiting for him to jumpscare him, that was definitely a possibility. But the dungeon felt... uneasy. Like it knew something was wrong. That Cub was somewhere he shouldn't be. Tango didn't like that feeling at all.

It took far longer than he expected to find him, though. His energy was all over the place, but also somewhere he couldn't really guess. He only found him by chance as he was checking to see if he'd tried to get into the Black Mines, and there he was, passed out on the floor, skulk stains on his fingers.

"Oh, well that's not good. Possession, maybe? He's been acting so weird since the dungeon opened though. I'd better get him out of here," Tango said, kneeling down beside him as he rolled him over onto his back.

Cub made a soft sound, perhaps a sigh, and Tango touched his forehead, offering a little Vex magic to wake him up a little.

"Cubby, you with us, buddy? You okay? What are you doing all the way down here?" Tango said, trying to rouse him.

Cub took a deeper breath, wriggled his fingers a little. Tango fed him a little more Vex magic. That seemed to do the trick. Cub opened his eyes and gazed up at the ceiling, confused.

"Hey there, Cubby," Tango said. "You okay? Do you remember where you are?"

Cub scrunched his face up as if he was trying to remember. "No. Nope. I dunno. Somewhere? I do remember- skulk, but-"

"Did you get possessed again, hey?" Tango said.

"Maybe, maybe. That does seem plausible. Where are we?" Cub said.

"You're at the entrance to the Black Mines. In the dungeon. Which you very much should not be in, my friend! Especially when the game isn't running!" Tango said.

"Oh, okay. Fair enough." Cub rubbed his face with his hands and started to sit up. Tango offered a hand, and Cub sat there, blinking in the low light, his head empty and confused. "S'pose we'd better get out of here, yeah?"

"When you're ready, there's no rush. The dungeon's closed for maintenance now anyway," Tango said.

"Hey, you got any food? God, I'm suddenly starving," Cub said.

"Yeah, sure, it's just pork chops though," Tango said, pulling them out of his inventory.

"It'll do," Cub said, taking the offered food.

-

Cub was sitting on Gem's bed in her vault in the hall. It was the, well. The most comfortable place Tango thought to take him once he was up and able to get out of there. He hadn't said much; Tango's assumption that this was post-possession by ... the Vex? the skulk? something else? ... seemed correct. Cub had no memory of getting to the dungeon, nor of what he'd been doing before that, which was a little concerning if Tango was being honest.

"You know it's been a week since I last saw you, right? You finished some runs and then just disappeared. I figured you were busy, and thought nothing of it. Turns out I should have kept a closer eye on you," Tango said. "After all, you swore to obey me, and this is what's happened. Was it the skulk again?"

Cub lowered his head. He looked at his hands. Had they always looked like that? Fingertips stained with skulk? Well, he assumed it was skulk. It could just be ink, too. But he didn't remember-

"Honestly I don't know what's been going on since the dungeon opened. The skulk have been- weird. But I don't really have any firm memories to back that up." Cub idly scratched the back of his head for lack of something to do.

"Well, just- I dunno. Stay close? Let me know if things start getting out of hand? Look, even I know it's weird on the lower floors with the skulk around, okay? It's weird. There's always this stupid whispering in my head and I hate it. I just don't want you losing yourself to the skulk, alright? Because I'm afraid you'll never come back if you do," Tango said.

"I won't, I won't, Tango, I promise," Cub said.

"Well, we'll see about that, won't we?" Tango said.

[magpieddd]

You can call me king of optimization (making Sora autoduel Spectre so i can both level up Sora and get points for the Spectre event while doing something else in the meantime)

[briefle]

like a child

You know this to be true. It loves you.

It's self-evident, simple. Almost genuine. It comes to your mind not unlike mist. Ever-present in the cold halls — light, playful in its own way, swaying and flickering alongside the blue lantern flames. Faithful it follows your trail — like a child it wraps around your legs fiercely, like a ragged knife its sharp edges it slice through meat and bone. Blood stains ice and snow. It will be gone before long.

Confusion, panic, betrayal. The Voice You Know Well rumbles through the cavern. A timely gift, not meant for you. The Voice You Know Well speaks to you in quiet tones. Laughter, frustration and praise feel like one and the same when the voice you know well turns to you. It takes the shape of the wind, its caresses a ghost-like memory. Water drips from somewhere in the high ceiling above the lake. It's impossibly quiet and it holds your complete attention. You barely see it, just beyond your post, and something painful grips your hears so suddenly, so ardently. It carves a path right through you. Thunder bellows once more. A burning sentence, a harsh command. It is not meant for you; still, you falter too as you turn back.

Sometimes you wonder if it's taunting you. Sudden, icy gusts kick up gold dust, cracks in the black stone deepen like hollow grins, pebbles knock the rust off long abandoned rails. Sometimes you hear bouts of laughter, whispers, the soft flutter of wings, and the soft, safe blackness that has been your home disappears in blinding rage. Sometimes you fall, chasing butterflies. They must be beautiful. You don't think you know what colour is, but butterflies must be so elegant. Sometimes, when you fall, blackness surrounds you one last time.

Down in the depths, the empty, inky blackness bides its time. It waits, hungry. It misses you all the same.

You know this to be true. It kills you.

(It knows this to be true. Despite it all, you love it too.)

[AO3]

[insinceritie]

""""~☻*。DJ practice。*☻~""""

[morganharrison]

Porch - Traditional Porch Inspiration for a massive, classic renovation of a screened-in back porch with decking and an addition to the roof

[jacksonlucy]

Porch - Traditional Porch Inspiration for a massive, classic renovation of a screened-in back porch with decking and an addition to the roof

[sleepymarimo]

𝕤𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕥 𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕤!

summary: the monster trio's reaction to hearing you say their name in your sleep pairing(s): luffy x gn!reader, zoro x gn!reader, sanji x gn!reader cw: none!

luffy

it was rare, but it happened. luffy had gone off to roughhouse with usopp and chopper on the deck, leaving you with his precious hat. the responsibility was heavy on your shoulders and you barely had time to ask if he was sure before he ran in the opposite direction, laughing and looking back at you with a grin. "i know you'll take good care of it!"

that was about an hour ago, and you had done your damn best to make sure that the sacred straw hat was secure and in prime condition.

at some point though, the gentle rocking of the thousand sunny along with the overcast weather had you nodding off. you fought to stay awake, but ultimately found yourself dozing off against the railing.

with the straw hat nestled in your arms, your head rolled to the side, you slept.

luffy ended up returning to your spot a few minutes later, eagerly yelling your name until his mouth slammed shut at the sight of you sleeping so peacefully with his straw hat. he seems a little confused at first, head tilting as he looked down at you. "hm? you're tired?"

a toothy grin forms on his face as he steps closer, squatting down so he was eye level with you. the sight of his hat in your protective embrace makes him feel especially warm and he knows he made the right choice in entrusting it to you. his hand reaches for the hat, but as soon as his fingers brush against it, your hold tightens. your brows furrow and you grumble something before your face softens once more.

"no..." you mumble, bringing the hat closer to your heart. "s'for luffy... gotta...take care of it."

when he hears your 'no', he wants to pout, because it's his hat! however, when he catches the rest of your muttered words, his expression shifts into one of utter joy. a gleeful chuckle rings through the air and he can't help himself from waking you.

his arms wrap around your sleeping form and bring you in for a bone crunching hug, a yelp of surprise leaving you as you're rudely awakened. "what? what happened?" you ask, still disoriented and confused.

"nothing!" luffy responds, taking the hat from your hands and slamming it onto your head with a child-like excitement. "let's go eat!"

zoro

you had a long day, worse than usual. stressed out and in need of some time to yourself, you made your way up to the crow's nest where you plopped down onto one of the workout benches. your ever racing mind, plagued with what ifs and unnecessary worry, eventually settles down enough for you to fall asleep as you turn onto your side and doze off.

a while later, zoro heads up there to do some training.

when he noticed you sleeping, zoro simply shrugged and headed towards some dummies so he could practice his three sword style. clearly you were just napping, and he wasn't going to interrupt or tell you to get out.

he gets a few hits in, deliberately making his stabs and swings a tad quieter in a bid to respect your sleeping arrangement, when he suddenly hears his name being called. thinking that he had been too loud, he sheathes his swords and lets out a disgruntled sigh. he could only be so quiet as he trained, and he assumed that you were gonna chew him out for waking you.

however, when he turns, he sees that your eyes are still shut. not only that, but your brows are furrowed and your once neutral expression is twisted into one of slight fear. he takes a few tentative steps toward you, unsure of how to handle whatever it is that's happening.

your breaths quicken. "stop it..." you whine, your body tensing slightly as you curl further in on yourself. "zoro... help..."

his brows shoot up in surprise when his name tumbles past your lips, heat creeping up his neck and to the tips of his ears. he feels awkward and out of place, though he can't deny the fact that he's flattered and a bit satisfied that, even in your sleep, you count on him to protect you.

he clears his throat, gaze sweeping across the crow's nest to make sure it was empty before hesitantly reaching a hand out. "oi, i'm here." he begrudgingly and affectionately grumbles, pink dusting his cheeks as his hand settled atop your head. "quit whinin'."

your response is almost immediate, your breaths evening out and your expression softening. he scowls and looks away, not believing that this was happening. yet, as he gets back to training, he makes sure to keep an ear out for you, occasionally talking to your sleeping self just so you could hear his voice. 

sanji

you didn't mean to fall asleep in the dining room.

something had you feeling restless, so you took it upon yourself to make a cup of tea before sitting at the dining room table to enjoy it. you didn't expect the tea to be so effective, yet here you were, arms crossed on the table and your cheek squished against the wood.

before the sun had a chance to peek over the horizon, sanji was up and preparing to head to the kitchen. with some extra plates and utensils in his hands that he brought from storage, he made his way down to the dining area.

when he notices you slumped over the table, his expression morphs into one of surprise and then to worry. he's quick to set down the silverware and make his way towards you, about to ask you what was wrong when he noticed your even breaths and peaceful expression.

ah, you were just sleeping. his eyes shine with amusement and admiration, his fingers twitching as he fights the urge to reach out and touch you. instead, he focuses his attention on your mug, his hand curling around the handle before bringing it up to his nose to take a quick inhale. the scent of chamomile and passionflower have him letting out a soft exhale of approval.

"you're gonna have to give me the recipe for this one, mon chérie." he smiles, taking a step back to head to the kitchen.

then, he hears it. a tired huff, as if you were debating with someone in your dream. "no... it's sanji... s'the best chef" you sleepily argue. "s'the best food... ever."

oh, he just melts. his head feels so light from your praise. he practically floats back to you, hearts in his eyes as he fights to keep his tone quiet. "mon chérie, do you really like my food so much that you dream about it?"

he continues to swoon over your sleeping self, his spirit light, when the sound of your grumbling stomach echoes throughout the dining hall. the blond is torn between waking you and preparing you something to eat.

he bends down slightly until he's at your level, before wrapping an arm around your shoulders. his free hand plucks the cigarette from his lips and he gently brings his mouth to your ear, lightly saying your name. "what's your favorite breakfast?"

a happy, genuine smile forms on his face when you actually mumble out an answer. when you wake up and your favorite breakfast is served on a plate in front of you, it's like a dream come true.

[roosterforme]

Wild Rooster Chase | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley thinks about you more than he should, and his feelings for you run deeper than they ought to. You've never given him an indication that you want to take the teasing touches and playful flirtation to the next level, so he never pressed his luck. When you surprise him by sending a text message that could change everything, he's ready to chase you all over San Diego for some answers.

Warnings: adult language, fluff, angst, drinking

Length: 5700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Banner by @thedroneranger

"What are you ladies doing here?" Bradley asked as you walked in with Halo and Phoenix on either side of you. "Thought tonight was the bachelorette party?"

"The Hard Deck is our first stop of the evening," you informed him as you planted your palm on his chest with a smirk, and he let you push him away from the bar. "We couldn't miss out on letting you guys see how nicely we clean up."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, as if he wasn't actively ogling you in your mini dress and high heels. He'd never been one to hide it, and he'd never been one to check out the other two, either. But that didn't mean he was going to act on it, because he was absolutely convinced this was just a game for you. One that he loved participating in. One that he knew was never going to go anywhere real.

"Yeah," you verified with a laugh. "We look hot."

"An indisputable fact," he whispered as he pretended like you were actually pushing him further out of your way. He'd move wherever you wanted him to, as long as you just kept touching him.

"Shoo," you scolded, looking up at him as your knee bumped his leg. "I need to buy some drinks, and you're in my way."

He covered your hand with his big one and immediately stopped moving. "Nice try, Blaze," he said with a grin as you attempted and failed to get him to budge more. "But I'm definitely buying you all a round for Callie's big night." He tossed his credit card onto the bar and draped one arm around Halo and the other around you before leaning in close to you and whispering, "And you always look nice. Even in your flight suits."

"What can I get for you ladies? And Rooster?" Penny asked, cutting him off just as he had you rolling your eyes. "Wait... he's not going out for Halo's bachelorette night, is he?"

"Absolutely not," you told her, tilting your head to look up at him with a devilish grin that made him a little nervous. His arm was still heavy across your shoulders as you said, "He's just here to buy us three Johnnie Walkers. Blue Label. Neat." 

"What?" His voice was strangled, and his eyes were wide. "That's over a hundred bucks!"

"But it's what we want. Isn't it, ladies?" you asked Halo and Phoenix as you tried not to laugh.

"It is," Halo confirmed. "And I'm the one getting married next weekend." 

When Bradley moaned and nodded at Penny, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Rooster. You're the sweetest."

"You mean I'm a sucker," he said, finally releasing both of you. "So where are you headed after this?"

Halo accepted her expensive Scotch as she said, "Cowboy Star for a steak dinner."

Bradley snorted. "Don't forget to take Jake with you," he said, nodding to where the other guys were hanging out near the dart board. 

"No boys allowed," you reminded him. "Especially not since we're taking Halo to Cheetahs after dinner."

"Strippers?" he asked as you picked up your Johnnie Walker. "Looking at hot, naked chicks? Sounds fun. What else?"

"Dancing at Pleasure Town!" Phoenix said, taking the last Scotch and holding it up. You and Halo both tapped your glasses to hers.

"Thanks, Rooster!" you said before taking a sip. He just shook his head as you pressed your lips to the glass, but a few seconds later, he ran his index finger along your arm and leaned a little closer again.

"Hey, you call or text me if you need anything, okay? I'll keep my phone on all night for you girls."

A chill seemed to run through your body, and just the mere thought of you calling him in the middle of the night left his mouth dry with need.

You chewed on your lip and looked up at him. "I'll let you know if I need you."

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

I'll let you know if I need you.

Bradley couldn't stop thinking about that sentence. If you ever told him you needed or even wanted him for anything, he'd be there instantly. He wasn't afraid to admit to himself that he'd had a crush on you from the first day you arrived at Top Gun. He was sure you knew it, too. But there were some things he just didn't want to mess with. Your call sign was Blaze for a reason, after all. Too fucking hot to handle. Too damn enticing to be interested in him.

So he did what he always did on Saturday nights. Found the second cutest girl at the bar and tried his luck. 

It was two hours later and three drinks in with the redhead, and he knew he could probably get as lucky as he wanted to. Her hand was on his thigh, inching closer to the hem of his tropical print shirt, and she was all smiles.

"Let's play something on the jukebox," she told him, and he agreed as he followed after her. To his dismay, she picked your favorite song, and now he was having a bit of a hard time staying focused on the task at hand as she tucked herself against the wall and pulled him closer by his shirt.

"You like this song?" he asked, glancing at the jukebox like he expected you to be standing there. 

She shrugged and said, "Not really. I just pushed some random buttons," with a little giggle. "Now, come here."

Alright, so her lips were soft, and her tongue tasted like bourbon. She placed his hands on her hips, and he gave a little test squeeze which resulted in her tongue in his mouth. But the song was pulling up some other memories of you and him dancing together on New Year's Eve. When he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, it was almost a relief to pull away.

"Hey," she complained, reaching for him as he unlocked his phone. "I'm over here, Rooster."

"Sorry," he muttered, looking at her briefly, but he really wasn't. The text he got was from you. He held up one finger and took a step back as he opened it up. 

Blaze: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

"What the fuck?" Bradley said out loud as his eyes scanned the message again. It was a joke. It had to be. Or else he was reading it wrong? "Holy shit."

When he finally looked up, the redhead was pouting with her arms crossed. He needed another opinion, and he'd already lost interest in her anyway. He held up his phone and asked, "What does this mean?"

He watched her eyes as she read it, and a little crease appeared on her forehead. "It says get a life, jerk." She went walking off toward her friends as Bradley looked around for someone else to help him out. The guys were all playing pool and darts, but he didn't trust them as far as he could throw them anyway.

"Hey, Penny," he called out, cutting off several people who were trying to order drinks. He leaned all the way across the bar top to where she was pouring a martini. "Tell me I'm not losing my mind."

When he held up his phone, she squinted at the screen, and then her eyes went wide as she smiled at him. "I think someone overdid it and finally stated the obvious."

He was sweating now, afraid he was going to get this all wrong. "Like you think this is actually how she feels?"

She laughed and handed off the martini before pouring some wine. "Well, I don't want to speculate on someone else's behalf..."

"Bartenders are supposed to speculate," he told her, ready to climb over the bar and chase her down as she turned away from him to serve the wine. "It's your god given obligation."

She glanced at him over her shoulder. "Well, then, merely speculating, I would say that the way the two of you cozy up with each other seems a little more than platonic."

He shook his head. "No, that's probably just me you're reading in the scenario." But she was shaking her head back and forth as well. "It's her, too?" Now she was nodding as she reached for a pint glass. "Like she might actually want to make something happen here?"

"Speculation," Penny told him. "But I think you should find out for sure."

He could call you. He pushed himself away from the bar, found a nice, quieter corner, and he tapped your number in his phone.

'Hi, it's me. I can't answer my phone, probably because I'm flying a seventy million dollar aircraft at the moment. Leave a message.'

"Damn it," he groaned, already thinking about how nice it would be to sling his arm around your shoulders and lean all the way in next time. Let his lips meet yours instead of hitting the brakes like he'd trained himself to do. "Wait!" he said to nobody in particular now that he'd walked away from Penny. "Cowboy Star!"

Bradley had the fortitude to keep his phone out and use the rideshare app he had downloaded. He was definitely not sober enough to do this in the Bronco, and he couldn't stop fantasizing about your song playing on the jukebox while he had your body pressed up against the wall. He needed to get to you and get some questions answered. 

He chose the closest driver in the app, and while he was waiting for Julian in his white Toyota Camry to arrive, he read your text again.

Blaze: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

"Is she so serious right now?" he asked the night air as he waited in the parking lot. "Is she so fucking serious about this? I think about it, too!  A lot!" he practically shouted as he responded to your text.

Blaze, call me back. Are you talking about a kiss on the cheek? Or something more? We need to discuss ASAP.

"Hey, are you Bradley?"

He looked up to see the white Toyota was just sitting there. You had his head so messed up at the moment, he hadn't even noticed it.

"Julian?"

"Yeah, man," the driver replied, and Bradley quickly climbed in the backseat. "You're heading to Cowboy Star?"

"Yeah," he grunted as he buckled his seatbelt.

"I love it there," he said as he pulled out onto the road that ran parallel to the beach. "My wife got me the porterhouse for my birthday."

Bradley stared at his phone screen, hoping you'd write back or call him. "I'm not actually going for dinner. I'm trying to find a girl."

Julian whistled and shook his head. "Man, you should have just stayed at that bar."

He tipped his head back and groaned. "It's a very specific girl. And she's out with some friends for a bachelorette party."

"You know dudes aren't really supposed to go to those things, right?"

Bradley rubbed his free hand across his face and said, "I know, but she sent me this text that is very thought provoking." 

"What's it say?"

He kind of felt like an idiot telling his story to his Uber driver, but he still wasn't sure he was understanding your words correctly. It just didn't make sense. 

"Julian, I am very firmly in the friend zone with this hot girl from work, and tonight she sent me this message: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time."

"Bro," Julian said as he hit the accelerator a little harder. "You're so in, man."

"Am I?" Bradley asked, squeezing his phone and wondering why you weren't calling him back. "Like, this girl is smoking hot. She's cool as hell, too. And we flirt a bit, but it never goes anywhere. And now she's not answering me."

"Just hang on." Julian went a little faster still. "I'll get you there so you can sweep her off her feet."

Bradley hung onto the door handle, not even sure he knew how to sweep you off your feet. What kinds of guys did you usually go for? He'd be lying if he said he never noticed that your last boyfriend kind of looked like him. And in general, you seemed to have a thing for guys with brown hair who were pretty tall. 

"Shit," he grunted, just torturing himself by imagining he could be the one holding your hand and making you laugh. "Are we almost there?"

"Hell yeah, dude. Next block up."

When Julian stopped at to the curb, Bradley lunged out onto the sidewalk as he shouted, "Thank you!"

"Good luck!"

The restaurant was absolutely packed, and even the line to talk to the host was long. After a few seconds, he simply walked to the front and cut everyone else off.

"Hey!" complained the woman who was now behind him as he cleared his throat and addressed the host. 

"Excuse me, but do you know if there are still three hot women here eating dinner together?" he asked the host who gave him a bland look. "They were all in tight little dresses. One was red, one was blue, and one was like a gold color. And one of them was wearing a bachelorette sash!"

"Oh," he replied with a little smirk. "Those three." Bradley didn't appreciate the way his little grin grew as he said, "Hot is certainly the right word to describe them."

"Are they still here?" he asked impatiently, trying to look past him into the dining room now.

"No. They left about an hour ago."

"Fuck," he groaned, pushing away from the podium and storming back outside into the night. He found a spot on the busy sidewalk where he could stand, and he tried to call you again. 

'Hi, it's me. I can't answer my phone, because I'm probably flying a seventy million dollar aircraft at the moment. Leave a message.'

He wanted to scream, but he calmly said, "Blaze, it's Rooster. Call me back." When he hung up, he opened the rideshare app again, and he luckily saw Julian on the map immediately and tapped on his little icon. "Come on, Julian," he muttered, already looking down the street for the trusty Toyota to make its return. "Yes!"

Bradley threw himself into the backseat once again as the driver asked, "That was quick, bro. What happened?"

"They already left for the strip club," he groaned.

"Cheetahs?" Julian asked, tapping at his own phone before he started driving again. "Not gonna pretend I've never been there before."

Bradley tried to call you again, and once again he got to hear your voice tell him you weren't available. "I just don't understand why she's telling me this now, you know? I've known her for almost two years."

"Two years in the friend zone? Bro, do you have no game?"

"Julian, do not test me right now," Bradley said with a laugh. He held up his thumb and index finger and added, "I was this close to sealing the deal with another girl at the Hard Deck when I got the text from her."

"Ohhhh. So you're in love with her. Understood, my man."

Bradley sat back against the seat and stared out the window as the city lights streaked past. In love. Was he? You always seemed too perfect to get involved with. But love? Is that why he never pushed for more? 

"Damn," he muttered. "Maybe." Was the fear of crashing and burning what was ultimately holding him back? 

That was when Julian pulled a slick u-turn and coasted into the parking lot of Cheetahs which was advertising fully nude girls. He should have been concerned that suddenly the only girl he wanted to see that way was you. "Thanks, Julian," he said as he hopped out and slammed the door closed.

"You got this!"

Well at least Julian thought he could pull off something impossible tonight.

"Whoa, I'm going to need to see some ID." 

Bradley realized that his path was suddenly blocked by an absolutely massive bouncer with a bushy beard. 

"Come on," he complained, digging his wallet out of his back pocket. "I'm thirty-five."

"No ID, no entrance."

"Yeah, yeah. Understood," he said trying to get his driver's license free as one of the strippers walked outside for a break. He craned his neck to see through the open door as the loud music filtered out before the door closed.

"Hey, Cherry," the bouncer grunted, and Bradley looked down at the stripper who was leaning against the wall wearing a pink wig, the tiniest g-string and some pasties. 

She was looking at Bradley a little skeptically as she replied, "Hey, Murph." She kicked a rock out into the parking lot as she told Bradley, "You're getting here awfully late. All of the private rooms have been reserved for the rest of the night."

"I'm not here for that. I'm just looking for some girls," he replied, waiting patiently while Murph inspected his ID.

"Yeah," she said with a laugh. "We've got plenty of those. The hottest ones in San Diego, if you believe the neon sign above your head."

"No," he told her, really not in the mood to recount his story again. "I'm looking for some women I work with."

Now Cherry looked downright unconvinced as she asked, "Are you a stripper?"

Bradley accepted his driver's license back and gave Cherry a hesitant look. "Well, no, I'm not."

"Didn't think so," she muttered, and Bradley stopped in his tracks before he even reached for the door handle.

"Excuse me?" he asked, giving her a much more scathing look. "What's that supposed to mean? I'd be a fantastic stripper."

She shook her head and adjusted her tiny underwear. "You don't have the right build for it."

Bradley burst out into sardonic laughter. "Cherry, you must be joking," he said as he tucked his wallet away and flexed his biceps. "I could totally be a stripper."

"What song would you dance to?" she asked in an accusatory tone. 

"Sweet Emotion," he told her immediately. Yeah, he'd thought about it before, and yeah, he knew he'd absolutely kill it up on stage. But she just made a face in response. "What's wrong with my song?"

"Nothing, I guess, but there's no way you'd be raking in the tip money."

Bradley pointed across the parking lot to Hard D Boys, the male club that was associated with Cheetahs, and said, "Just for that, I'm coming back for their open auditions night, because you have no idea what you're talking about." She shrugged, and he shook his head. "I don't have time for this. Have you seen three hot women? A red dress, a blue dress and a gold dress? Like short dresses?" he asked, tapping his thigh with his hand to indicate that your dress left little to his imagination. "They are like around this tall?" he added, sticking his hand in the air around your height.

"Sorry, Mr. Sweet Emotion, but I only take note of the biggest tippers."

Bradley groaned and pushed the door open, and the music was so loud, it wasn't even worth trying to ask the bartenders if they'd seen you. As soon as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he walked around the cavernous club, trying to locate you three, but it was mostly men. And then he had the disturbing thought that maybe some guys tried to pick you up.

"Why are you doing this to me, Blaze?" he whispered to himself as he walked back through every corner he could find. He even asked a woman to check if you were in the ladies' restroom. He came up empty handed again. 

"God damn it," he said once he was back outside with Murph.

"To be fair," Murph said as he lit up a cigarette, "I think you'd make an okay stripper."

"Thank you for that," Bradley told him sincerely as he tapped his rideshare app again, but then he heard a horn honking and looked up. It was Julian, hanging out his car window. He'd waited for him. 

"She's not here?"

"No, Julian. She's not here!" he said as he rushed toward the Toyota and climbed in.

"Well, where are we going next?"

Bradley closed his eyes and thought about what Phoenix had said earlier at the Hard Deck. "Pleasure Town. They were going dancing at Pleasure Town."

"On it," Julian told him and shifted into drive.

It was after midnight now. Pleasure Town wasn't too far away, but he'd be lucky to even find you in there on the weekend. But if he did, you'd be dancing like crazy with the biggest smile on your face, pretending you liked the music they were playing while you thought about your own playlists instead. You'd be drinking some neon colored cocktail and trying to talk the girls into leaving to get cookies from that place that was open all night. You'd maybe even be checking your phone and finally, finally texting him back.

"Yeah, you're right, Julian."

"About what, my man?"

Bradley rubbed his hands over his face. "I'm in love with her."

Julian reached his arm back at a red light, and Bradley fist bumped him. "Yeah, that's what I'm talking about! I could tell right away. Don't worry. We'll find her."

But it got harder to be hopeful the longer he was in the dance club. There was barely any room to walk around, and there were dozens of women in little dresses that looked like the one you were wearing, but none of them had your face or your smile. You weren't here. 

He stood on the dance floor and read your text one more time.

Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

He wanted to know what kissing you would feel like. Now that you opened his mind to something more, he'd never be able to stop thinking about it. But this time, he let himself finally focus on the word regret in your message.You'd regret what you said in the morning. He knew you; he knew you would never go for the idea sober. But he texted you one more time anyway.

Blaze, please call me when you get this. It doesn't matter what time it is. Just call.

When he walked back out into the cool, night air, Julian was right there at the curb waiting with a hopeful look on his face. "Bro, is she here?" When Bradley didn't respond, his face melted into sadness. "Or did she say the 'just friends' shit?"

"She's not here," he replied, once again climbing in the back of the now familiar car.

"We going somewhere else now? The pursuit continues?"

Bradley grimaced and said, "I think I should just throw in the towel and regroup. Can you take me back to the Hard Deck? I'm definitely sober enough to drive home now."

But even Julian sounded disappointed now. "Of course, dude. Anything you want."

"Thanks," Bradley grunted, watching as the city lights faded a bit as they got closer to the beach. When Julian parked near the Bronco, he said, "I appreciate all your help tonight."

He gave Bradley another fist bump. "You gotta start fresh tomorrow, man. And you can't leave me hanging, okay? I need a wedding invitation."

Bradley chuckled as he climbed out for the last time. "I'm about to leave you the biggest tip."

He tapped two hundred bucks into the app as Julian drove off shouting, "Good luck!"

With nothing else he could do right now, he climbed in the Bronco, cranked the engine and started to drive himself home for the night. He was tempted to swing by your place or at least try to call you one more time, but he decided to let you get some sleep before you started to regret your message. That way he'd have a little more time with this hopeful feeling in his chest.

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

There was pounding. There was so much pounding. Maybe someone turned the music up even louder at Cheetahs? Or were you at Pleasure Town now? "Make them turn it down," you moaned, trying to cover your ears. That's when you realized you were in your bed. At home. Someone was knocking on your front door.

"Wait," you croaked as loudly as you could, your ears still buzzing from the loud music all night long. The bachelorette evening had been highly successful. Halo had a great time. But now you were hungover and not in the mood to deal with anyone. 

As you climbed out of bed, you grabbed your phone from the nightstand to check the time. The battery was almost dead, and you had a bunch of missed texts and calls, but you couldn't even focus on that until the pounding ceased.

"Please stop," you whined, flinging your door open before you even checked to see who it was. When you saw him it felt like someone poured warm caramel sauce on your heart or shoved you hard into a wall made out of soft foam: he always made you feel good and gooey and squishy in the most heart pounding, confusing way. "Rooster."

When he moved slightly, he stopped blocking the sunlight behind him and you squinted your eyes and groaned as you took a step back. "Blaze," he said in that raspy as sin voice as he blessedly closed your front door behind him. "You have a hangover."

You nodded, but even that was too much. "What gave it away?" you asked him softly, still holding your phone.

He snorted. "Well, for starters, you're still wearing your dress from last night."

"Oh." You hadn't realized that as you looked down at yourself for confirmation. "We went pretty hard. I can't even remember much after you bought us the Johnnie Walker at the Hard Deck."

He remained quiet until you looked back up at his face. "You... remember texting me?" His tone was one you'd never heard before, and it took you a few seconds to realize he was nervous. On edge. Hesitant. He was never any of those things with you, and you didn't like this at all.

"I texted you?" When you lifted your phone higher, you started to wonder why he hadn't hugged you when you opened the door. He usually always did. He swallowed hard, and you watched the scars along his neck as his Adam's apple bobbed.

"You really don't remember?"

Now he just sounded really fucking sad, and for some reason your brain was screaming at you that there was something you were definitely supposed to recall from last night. Something about Bradley. You left him at the Hard Deck after he paid for the Scotch, and then you went to dinner and drank more while you thought about him the whole time. But there was definitely something else.

"No. I really don't remember," you whispered, annoyed with yourself. You felt like it was somehow your fault that his lips were pressed in a tight line and his brow was creased.

"It's not important," he replied, all businesslike now. "Can I see your phone for a minute?"

"Yeah," you told him, handing it over and watching while he punched in your passcode. "What did you end up doing all night?"

He sighed and looked at you. "I ended up following you around to no avail."

"Why?" you asked, still clearly missing a piece of this whole puzzle as he started tapping your phone screen with his thumb. 

"That's not important either," he whispered, and you decided you didn't like any of this. 

You snatched your phone out of his hand and wrapped your arms around his neck. Almost reluctantly, he hugged you back before reaching his hand up to where you were holding your phone, trying to get it again. "What do you want my phone for so badly?"

He was acting strange, and when he said nothing in response, you lunged out of his grasp and tapped on your text thread with him. 

"Blaze," he barked out, but it was too late. You read what you'd sent him last night.

Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

"Oh my god!" you screeched. "I didn't delete that?! I hit send!" You couldn't even meet his eyes now as you tried to figure out how to get him to leave so you could cry in peace.

"Blaze, it's okay," he promised, but you knew it wasn't.

"You were going to delete that message. And the ones you sent to me after it," you accused. "Weren't you?" When he just stared at you silently, you realized he was trying to save you from being embarrassed, but it was way too late for that. He didn't want you. He was never going to want you.

"No hard feelings," he said softly. "Go ahead and delete it yourself. We can pretend this never happened."

"No hard feelings?" you practically wailed, afraid you were going to cry in front of him. "I just ruined everything. You were never supposed to know how I feel about you, Bradley."

As soon as you ducked your head away from him, his fingers were under your chin tipping your face up so you were looking him in his impossibly endearing brown eyes. "I need you to explain this to me. Okay?" He took your phone gently from your hand and held it up with the message displayed. "Please, Blaze. Did you mean it? Is that how you think about me?" When you nodded slightly, he readjusted his hand on your face so he was cupping your cheek instead. "Baby, I followed you everywhere last night. I called you and texted you and rode around in a white Toyota with Julian for hours on end."

"Who's Julian?" you ask softly as Bradley slid your phone into his jeans pocket.

"He's my new friend," he replied, which cleared up exactly nothing for you. "I went on this insane chase from Cowboy Star to Cheetahs to Pleasure Town just to try find out if there was even the slightest chance that you really meant what you said."

He closed the distance between your bodies as he stroked his thumb along your cheek. "It was supposed to be my little secret," you whispered. "I just typed it out to see how it would look. I read it in my head and imagined how you might take it. It was supposed to get deleted. You were never supposed to know."

"Is it really so bad that I do?"

His question hung in the air between you, and once again you nodded. "Yes, Bradley. Yes, because it's going to complicate everything now. Work, and our friends, and hanging out at the bar. It's all ruined. Because you'll never look at me the same way you used to."

"Blaze," he rasped. "Baby, I don't want to look at you the same way I used to. Like I was never going to measure up. Like I could never be what you wanted."

You gasped as your eyes went wide. "What are you saying?"

He groaned and pressed his lips to your forehead, and you melted against him. "I'm saying that I chased you all over the city last night hoping like hell that you meant what you said. And that you didn't regret it."

Your head was spinning, but not from the hangover as you thought about how it could feel to be with this man. "You want this?" you asked in awe as your hands eased up along his chest to slip around his neck again.

"Desperately. And if you think you want to see where it goes, we can take it slow, you know?" he asked, his brown eyes hopeful once again. "We don't have to rush into anything crazy."

But you knew you were already kind of crazy about him. You had been for a long time. So you whispered, "I think I could fall in love with you," and his lips came crashing to yours. You moaned into his mouth. His lips and his mustache were even better than all those times you'd imagined kissing him. His huge hands were bunching up the fabric of your dress at your hips. You wanted every part of your body to be touching him from now until forever.

This was how good it felt when you and he stopped pulling your punches. When you both stopped pumping the brakes. You raked your hands through his wavy hair, gasping for breath as you asked, "Did you really try to find me last night?"

"Of course," he promised as you kissed along his mustache and across his cheek. "It was enlightening. I learned a lot about myself. Hey, do you think I'd be a good stripper?"

"God, Rooster," you groaned just thinking about it. "You'd be an excellent stripper."

"I fucking knew it," he grunted, half guiding you and half carrying you to your bedroom. "Listen, we should cuddle right now, but I'm going to need you to come to Hard D Boys with me one night. I'm pretty sure it's just to prove a point, but you never know."

You really weren't positive what he was talking about now, but it didn't matter. His lips were on your neck, and his weight was pressing you down onto your bed, and he was saying the most wonderful thing.

"I know for sure I could fall in love with you."

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

He's such a simp, he would chase you anywhere. Imagine taking your brand new boyfriend to his stripper audition just because he has to prove a point. I mean, I wouldn't complain lol. Thanks for reading! And thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @thedroneranger

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[magnagaruzenmon]

Inbetween

Just a short little something after seeing these sexy pics

You were just putting the final card into your new Vanguard deck when your phone buzzed. A photo from Jiheon popped up — a blurry selfie of her sprawled on the couch, blanket tangled around her legs, hair in a loose bun. She looked pouty and bored. Underneath, a message:

“Come over. I’m lonely.”

You rolled your eyes, but already your keys were in your hand.

The drive to Jiheon’s place felt familiar — the kind of route your car could take blindfolded. You thought about how long you’d known her. Since your last year of college, and her second. You’d met by accident — you were sliding out of a seat in a lecture hall when she turned to you and said, “Why are you in this class? Isn’t this like, Intro 101?”

You’d raised an eyebrow and explained that her “intro” class was actually a right after for your higher-level course the course she just sat through. She blinked, then grinned.

“Oh. Okay, Mr. Smartypants.”

She’d called you that ever since.

From that moment on, she was a constant in your life. Bright-eyed, sarcastic, fiercely loyal. You’d seen her through all kinds of chaos — tear-stained breakups, half-baked get-rich schemes, failed job interviews and small personal triumphs that felt like gold medals. No matter what, Jiheon carried it all with a crooked smile and a razor-edged wit that never dulled.

You pulled into her complex and headed up without knocking. The apartment was quiet — suspiciously quiet. No Hayoung. No Nagyung. Not even Jiwon’s voice echoing off the kitchen walls. Just Jiheon.

You found her in the bathroom, sitting on the counter in a hoodie three sizes too big, idly brushing her hair. She looked up and beamed when she saw you.

“Ah! You came!”

You frowned at her, genuinely confused by her excitement.

“Yeah… you’re my friend? Why are you acting surprised?”

She gave you a look and tossed the brush down.

“Don’t get smart with me. You’ve been MIA. Work, your move — I haven’t seen you in, like, forever.”

You leaned against the doorframe with a sigh.

“That was two weeks ago. And all of last week you were busy with what’s-his-name. How’s that going, by the way?”

Jiheon’s expression faltered. She looked away for a second before muttering,

“I visited him at work. He was sleeping with his boss.”

The bathroom went quiet, save for the sound of the brush clattering on the counter. You winced.

“Damn. Well, fuck him. Honestly, he was forgettable anyway.”

She laughed, but it was small and tired.

“Thanks, Smartypants.”

You smile and say, “Anytime.”

The two of you sit in the quiet hum of her apartment, the kind of silence only close friends can share without it feeling awkward. Jiheon leans her head against your shoulder, absently pulling the sleeves of her hoodie over her hands as the TV flickers in front of you, muted.

Her presence is warm, familiar. You’d sat like this a hundred times before — post-breakup, post-party, post-bad-days — but something in the air felt different now. Maybe it was the way her hair smelled faintly like vanilla shampoo, or how her fingers brushed against yours without pulling away.

A minute passes. Maybe two. You shift your weight, then stand up.

“Let’s go on a date.”

She blinks, turning toward you from where she’s curled up on the couch.

“Huh?”

The word drops out of her like a reflex — confused, caught off guard. Her brows knit, her lips part just slightly.

You look down at her, hands in your pockets, speaking more from instinct than plan.

“I dunno. It just seemed like a good idea.”

You watch as she processes. Her eyes search your face for a punchline, but find none. She sits up straighter now, not alarmed, but suddenly very alert — like she’s trying to make sense of a new rule in a game she thought she’d already mastered.

“You mean like—” she gestures vaguely between you, “—us? A real date?”

You nod once, not backing away from her gaze.

“Yeah. You and me. Dinner. A movie. We can even pretend we don’t already know each other’s favorite orders and the name of your fourth grade math teacher.”

She lets out a soft laugh at that, eyes wide but not retreating. There’s a long beat, and then she says, quieter now:

“Why now?”

You consider it for a moment. The easy answer would be “why not?” But you owe her honesty.

“Because… when you said you were lonely, I realized I’ve been lonely too. But not in the way I thought. I missed you. Not just the hanging out, or the games, or the texts. I missed us. And maybe we’ve been pretending for a while now that there’s nothing more here… but I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

She swallows, her mouth parting again like she wants to say something, but can’t quite find the words yet.

You smile gently and add, “We can keep sitting here like always. We can forget I said anything. But if there’s even a small part of you that wants to see where this could go… come with me.”

The pause that follows isn’t filled with tension — it’s filled with a quiet possibility, like the moment before the first card is played in a match that means something.

Then, finally, Jiheon stands too. Slowly. Thoughtfully.

“Okay,” she says.

“But you’re paying.”

You grin. “Obviously.”

She rolls her eyes, but her smile betrays her.

You don’t even make it ten minutes down the road before things start to go wrong.

First, the restaurant you chose — a cute little ramen place she once mentioned in passing — turns out to be closed for renovations. Jiheon gives you a pitying look as you stare at the locked door like it might open if you believe hard enough.

“Strong start,” she deadpans.

“Bold of you to assume I don’t plan my failures ahead of time,” you reply.

Plan B? Tacos. But the GPS reroutes you three times, and Jiheon is clearly trying not to comment on how you nearly drive into a bike lane twice. By the time you find parking, it starts raining.

She looks at the sky, then at you.

“I knew I should’ve brought a jacket. This is how I die, isn’t it?”

“If I knew you were this dramatic I never would’ve asked you out.”

“You’ve known me for years. You absolutely knew I was this dramatic.”

The two of you make it into the taqueria drenched and laughing, clothes sticking awkwardly. Inside, you find one table left — directly under an air conditioner blasting arctic wind. Jiheon’s teeth chatter as she unwraps her taco.

“Romantic,” she says. “Free hypothermia with every meal.”

You raise your cup of horchata in mock-toast.

“To suffering.”

Despite it all — or maybe because of it all — the night starts to feel fun. Familiar. Real.

You fall into your usual rhythm: teasing, inside jokes, shared memories. She laughs until she nearly spits out her drink when you remind her of that time she tried to dye your hair “silver fox” and turned it lavender instead.

“You looked like a K-pop idol who got kicked out of the group for tax evasion.”

“You said I looked distinguished.”

“I lied. I was trying to protect your dignity.”

After dinner, the movie theater you’d picked is sold out, and the only other one nearby is showing the worst-looking romcom imaginable — Jiheon raises an eyebrow at you and says,

“You sure you’re not trying to make me break up with you mid-date?”

But you buy the tickets anyway, and to your shared horror… the movie ends up being hilariously awful. By the halfway point, Jiheon’s whisper-commentary is making you wheeze with laughter.

“Why is this man allergic to shirts? Is that a plot point?”

“I think it’s his trauma. Or maybe his fashion choices are the trauma.”

“God, they’re about to kiss again. You owe me popcorn refills.”

You both stumble out of the theater an hour later, wheezing and half-crying with laughter. You can’t remember the last time you had this much fun.

Back in the car, parked outside her apartment, there’s a quiet lull as the engine ticks softly. Jiheon looks at you. Not with her usual smirk or a sarcastic quip — but something softer, unreadable at first.

“That was terrible,” she says finally.

You grin. “Completely cursed.”

“And I still had the best night I’ve had in months.”

Your grin fades into something gentler.

“Yeah. Me too.”

She doesn’t look away, doesn’t laugh it off this time. Instead, she leans in — just slightly. Testing. Inviting.

“So… second date?”

“God, yes.”

She smiles, and this time it isn’t crooked or teasing — it’s full.

And then, finally, she kisses you.

Disaster or not, this is the best date either of you have ever had.

You smile as she breaks the kiss, her breath still brushing against your skin. She looks at you for a moment longer than necessary, eyes lingering like she’s memorizing your face. Then, almost shyly, she murmurs,

“Wanna come inside?”

You follow her in.

The apartment is dimly lit, warm and familiar. Her jacket lands in a heap on the couch, and she kicks off her sneakers with the casual chaos of someone who lives alone and likes it that way.

You glance around, noticing something’s off.

“Where’s the gang?” you ask, referring to her usual group of friends — loud, opinionated, always draped across her furniture like they pay rent.

Jiheon shrugs, already halfway through rummaging for snacks in the kitchen.

“I think they mentioned something about a carnival and the night market downtown.”

You blink.

“That sounds like fun. Why didn’t you go?”

She bounces slightly on her heels as she emerges from the kitchen, chips in hand, a little sheepish.

“Um… I don’t know. It felt weird? Like, everyone was hyped about it and I just… kept thinking about how cool it’d be to hang out with you, tbh.”

You give her a look — the kind that says “you are so bad at hiding how sincere you are.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

She grins unabashed.

“And I was right! We had a fantastic night.” Her voice is high with excitement, like she’s still riding the buzz of the evening.

You smile, softer this time.

“So… what now?”

Jiheon looks at you with a mischievous glint, hopping backwards toward the couch.

“I sit on your lap and play Overwatch, obviously.”

You snort.

“Okay, that’s a weirdly specific fantasy.”

She winks.

“Give me Eighteen minutes. Timer starts now.”

You assume she’s joking.

But sure enough, seventeen minutes and some change later, you’re seated on her couch, a controller in one hand, the other arm awkwardly draped as Jiheon settles herself squarely in your lap — headset on, fully immersed in a competitive match. She leans back slightly, totally at ease, like this is the most normal thing in the world.

It should be weird. It should be.

But it’s… weirdly comfortable.

The warm weight of her. The sound of her muttering callouts under her breath. The flicker of game colors dancing across her walls. The hum of the console. The faint scent of her shampoo.

Somewhere between her shouting “PUSH POINT, YOU COWARDS” and your third yawn, your eyelids start to droop. You barely notice it. Your body relaxes under hers, lulled by her voice and the gentle rhythm of explosions and victory music.

Jiheon glances down once, mid-match, and smiles when she realizes you’ve dozed off — one hand still loosely around her waist. She doesn’t say anything. Just shifts slightly to let you breathe easier, and keeps playing.

You wake up two hours later on the same couch but Jiheon is gone. You look around for her until you hear moaning from her bathroom. At first you ignore it until she says your name. You rush to her to find her playing with herself. At first your speechless until she says

��Since you’re here, fuck me!”

You barely have time to think before you undo your pants and your stroking your cock for her. Her look is so intense and inviting you just can’t help it. You don’t even think about getting a rubber or doing anything like that.

You slide inside with mind numbing ease as she takes all of you. You groan

“Fuck Heoni you feel so good,” Jiheon turns her face to yours and says,

“You’re so big inside me,” as she backs her ass up into you. You groan as she convulses around your cock.

“Shit Jiheon,” you say as you start thrusting inside her. She coos and moans as she feels you hit her cervix,

“Fuck keep going!” She moans as you keeping ramming your cock. Her breath is ragged as her see through top invites you to slip your hands under the shirt and grab her perfect mounds.

She moans as your hands run all over her body. Her walls are velvet as the happily let you venture deeper into her tight snatch. Jiheon moans before staring back at you,

“This is gonna need to be an every weekend thing now!” You growl. Jiheon smirks

“Does Mr Smarty pants love my pussy?” She teased as she clenches around you,

You groan and say “yes! It’s perfect,” Jiheon smiled then adds,

“Well then as long as we can go on cute dates and I can play overwatch while sitting in your lap I’ll happily let you fuck me,”

You smile and say, “I love you,” Jiheon blushes at that before running into her wall of release. She groans as her pussy tightens around you despairing to milk you for all your worth before she squirts all over your cock. You groan as she moans trying to outlast her but she gives you that sultry needy look and you lose it.

Three hard pumps more and you’re flooding her pussy with cum. You can’t help it. Seeing her in the bathroom mirror so lost to pleasure just sets you off.

As the both of you come down the bathroom door opens and the rest of Jiheon’s crew find you balls deep inside her. Chaeyoung laughs and says, “Took you two long enough!”

[yearningaces]

So...

You know how if you're (American) in another country, and find another American and all the sudden it's like 'Hey! Friend! Friend! That's my bestie!' That person could be from an entirely different state but all the sudden you're similar around the unfamiliar so you're buddies!

Does that happen with monsters?

Better yet-

Say you're a human, the only human being hired onto a large cargo ship that travels planet to planet through space. Most of the others you work with are so different in appearance and species you sometimes don't know even if some of them have eyes, or just use a form of echolocation.

Still! It's a nice job, you're given respect due to your status as (a deathworlder) a human, and you're settling in nicely the first few days.

There's a pack of aliens you haven't met yet though, The Aslai.

Huge creatures with a semi-humanoid appearance paired with patches of striped fur across varying parts of them. A maw that unhinges in three distinct separation points, fur tipped tails that vary with color, and slightly elongated limbs.

Of course, the Aslai are the engineers. They work in the sub-floor deck where the machinery and engines are stationed. Heavy creatures with prehensile tails that can lift just as much as their long, burly arms. Creatures made to be strong, and with vast intelligence, the Aslai are perfect for such jobs. Most times they flock to them, truthfully.

Like how winged and levitating aliens prefer jobs that involve them leaving the ship where they can move freely through open space with the right gear.

The first time you see one of the Aslai, they're walking with heavy boot steps to the mess hall. You both freeze in the hall though.

For you? It's got a human-ish face and you're experiencing one hell of a level of the uncanny valley effect in real time.

For Hesh, you look like a softer, mini version of the Aslai. Their tail flicks in excitement and with heavy steps they draw closer. A brighter fur pattern than their fellow Aslai, they're noticeable by anyone. They croon in a low gruff tone, reaching out and prodding at your arms, legs, cheeks, happily babbling in some method of communication you can't exactly understand.

It's when the other three Aslai suddenly appear with different fur patterns and facial structures, mimicking the first one that you seem to realize they're 'cooing' over you. Like if you saw a stray cat on the way home...

You're about to say anything when one of the botanist -a Threxacord by the looks of its mandibles- speaks sharply, "Don't you have somewhere to be, human??"

Technically it's right... You're not at your post, but you were told by your immediate boss you could go on lunch. You don't have a chance to explain that though, not when the second largest Aslai lifts you up and sets you on its shoulders.

"Don't talk to our human that way." The rough, crackley voice is a shock to anyone who hears it, but the pack of Aslai seem comfortable. You can only hand onto the horns atop it's head to keep in place as a different one continues, each on the same thought process.

"Drunum, shouldn't you be tending to your artificial soils?" It's more of a throaty growl than words, but the irritation is clear.

It's only when Drunum hisses as it retreat when the Aslai you're semi-surrounded by relax, looking over at you with bright, fanged grins. They seem to each be muttering variations of the same phrases.

"Oooh, little Aslai! Honorary Aslai!"

"Are you a meat eater too? I bet you're a meat eater-"

"You're warm blooded, that's great! So am I!"

"Look, you've got five fingers too! No claws, but that's okay!"

The pack easily brings you to the mess hall, deciding then and there you're one of them. Just a tiny version. Practically cousin species!

I was going somewhere with this

[briefle]

i love the stage entrance shenanigans so much