#we piss lovers are a fun bunch

[darby-rowe]

ive never been much into piss 😭 but bc of you and the asks these days i cannot stop thinking about coryo pissing himself after he’s been forced to hold his bladder and withstand torturous edging………. Thinking thoughts over here….

- 🪩 anon

18+ | nsfw | mdni

cw piss

GODDDD thinking about stroking and edging coryo for the better part of an hour. and his cock is so painfully hard and he’s begging and practically crying for you to let him cum. but when you start up stroking him again he just cant hold it in anymore and pisses all over himself. 🩷

and he’s clearly so embarrassed but he cant stop moaning at how good it feels to finally relieve himself :( so cute 🩷

[juyeonszn]

(NO) STRINGS ATTACHED

PAIRING lee hyunjae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 5.58k

GENRES smut ﹒angst ﹒fluff

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, strangers to fwb to lovers, a few timeskips here and there, hyunjae is a manwhore but what else is new, he’s also a criminal justice major so, mentions of alcohol, mentions of roblox? idk, reader is lowkey horny as hell 😭, handjob, oral (m!receiving), mentions of sex in various places, hyunjae is an emotionally constipated idiot, juyeon appearance crowd cheered, also cha eunwoo appearance but crowd did not cheer, hyunjae goes through the five stages of grief, no foreplay but what can u do about it, marking, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap u know the drill), cowgirl position yeehaw, creampie yeehaw, little bit of cockwarming st the end ngl

SUMMARY becoming friends with lee hyunjae after his valiant attempt to save your life (stopping you from drunk driving) was certainly not on your year’s bingo card. also not on your bingo card? waking up in his bed every other night following, but it’s not like you’re really complaining.

MORE bruh. first of all. i’m so sorry this is so late. 😭 second of all, NOT ONLY IS IT A DAY LATE, BUT ITS ALSO LIKE AN HOUR AND A HALF LATE 😭 my time management was not all there this past weekend, and also due to some unfortunate decisions on my part, this fic was delayed a bunch but WE ARE SO BACK pls. i hope u all enjoy this bc i kinda hate it and im sad bc i was so excited for it and its nothing like how i wanted it to be… pls rb if u liked it 😿 also this is lowkey for izzy bc we’re both going through insane hyunjae brainrot rn..

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel @ericlvr

TAGLIST @millksea @from-izzy

In Hyunjae’s defense, he didn’t mean for any of this to happen.

When the two of you first met, he really was just trying to be a gentleman. He’d always been raised as someone who should do the right thing without expecting anything in return. He prided himself on sticking by his mother’s lifelong wisdom.

Okay sure, he might’ve had a few slip ups here and there in the form of random girls he’s hooked up with, but could you blame him? He was a university criminal justice major after all. There’s no harm in a little one-night-stand fun. Learning the ins and outs of the world of law and order was soul-draining enough without the freedom to stress-relieve whenever he felt fit.

Right. Back to you.

Your first encounter took place at the Tau Beta Zeta end of semester party. The fraternity had been working towards securing their victory against the KAT sorority just so they could host the damn thing. Hyunjae had yet to find a girl to entice him for the night, instead bothering some of his frat brothers. For example, Jacob Bae, who had just won the IST University boys’ volleyball team a championship title.

He could’ve gone after Lee Haeun, Jacob’s ex, but he had higher standards than that. There was also the incident earlier that day, while setting up for the party. He tried making a move on the KAT president to piss off Sangyeon, but that ended up failing. Honestly, he didn’t even care much about sleeping with anyone at these things anyways. Usually pretty girls came up to him first, but then ghosted him once they realized he wasn’t looking for anything serious. That was the only reason why his rap sheet was so long. He’d never intended on being the resident fuckboy.

Hyunjae remembers spotting you across the room during one of the numerous rounds of beer pong that night. Rather than Juyeon refereeing with Younghoon like they normally did, he stepped in to let the younger male enjoy the party with his girlfriend. The current match-up was Sunwoo versus Changmin with their respective partners. He had glanced up after witnessing the soccer prodigy miss a cup, making eye contact with you accidentally.

You tucked some hair behind your ear, bringing your drink to your lips and taking a sip before looking away. Your friends had sucked you back into the conversation you were having, effectively blocking Hyunjae’s chance to shoot any shots. He quickly got over it upon witnessing Changmin and Sunwoo arguing over the game, egging them on like the instigator he was.

Most people would’ve thought that was the end of it. Just a fleeting glance at each other, dozens of people standing between you. In hindsight, Hyunjae partially wishes that was where your story ended. You would’ve just been another girl to him, a stranger he saw once and never ran into again.

It’s funny how the universe works in strange ways.

By two in the morning, when over half of the partygoers had left the TBZ house, Hyunjae felt his social battery reach empty. He woke up earlier that morning to study for his Victimology final and felt drained by the time he walked out of the lecture hall. (He knew he aced it, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t mentally taxing.) He was just about ready to call it a night when he saw you sitting on the bottom step of the stairs, blubbering into your phone about something.

“What do you mean you left?” You wail, cheeks stained with mascara streaks. “I don’t care about your boyfriend! I’m too drunk to drive home and you were supposed to be my D.D.”

Your words are slightly slurred, a hiccup following your last sentence. Damn, you were cute even when you were crying like a baby. Hyunjae observed as you argued with who he assumed to be your friend over the phone, exasperated by the end of it. Despite not knowing a single thing about you, not even your name, he decided to step in and offer aid.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard you saying you’re too drunk to drive yourself, and as a TBZ member I just can’t let that happen,” he extended a hand to you. “I’d be more than willing to let you stay here until the morning, if you’d like. You can have my room and I’ll just crash in one of the others.”

Your lower lip quivered, as if you were on the verge of even more tears. You sniffle when you respond, eyes doe-like and glassy. “R-Really? You would do that f-for me?”

“It’s a better alternative than taking a rideshare home alone while drunk,” he nods. “And I’m definitely not letting you drive anywhere yourself.”

Hyunjae doesn’t know why he felt so protective over you. The thought of some potentially creepy man taking advantage of you because you were under the influence didn’t sit right with him. He poked his cheek with his tongue, hand still outstretched to you. You took it gently, allowing him to guide you to his bedroom. He grabbed some of his clothes so you could be comfier and gave you a washcloth so you wouldn’t go to be with your makeup on. He felt better knowing you were in the safety of his fraternity house rather than anywhere else. It kind of pissed him off that your friends would leave you to fend for yourself like that.

The next morning, you came down the stairs drowning in Hyunjae’s clothes, rubbing at your eyes sleepily. You held the heel of your palm to your temple, wincing from the headache no doubtedly caused by your hangover. It was around 11 AM when you woke up and most, if not all, of his frat brothers had already left to head home for the holidays.

You found your knight in shining armor sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, a mug with the default male Roblox face in his grasp. He was scrolling through his phone mindlessly, taking sips of his coffee every now and then until he heard you. He spins around in his chair, offering you a warm smile.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. Did you rest okay?” He asks, getting up to grab you your own mug.

Your cheeks burn up at the nickname. The whole situation is still a bit odd to you. You knew of Lee Hyunjae through the grapevine (every other girl at your school), yes, but you’ve never held an actual conversation with him before. And now here you are, taking shelter in his home and sleeping in his bed. It was sweet of him to be so hospitable, though. He could’ve kicked you out and pretended you didn’t exist.

“That’s probably the best I’ve ever slept in my life,” you laugh to cut through the tension. “Thank you for keeping me alive last night. I feel indebted to you forever.”

“It was no problem, at all. My pleasure, actually,” he grins, passing you a mug filled with fresh coffee. “By the way, I never got your name.”

“It’s Y/N,” you tell him, mouth pulling into a smile at the cup he just gave you, which happened to be the female adjacent to his. “Hyunjae, right?”

He doesn’t know if he should be embarrassed by the fact that you already knew his name or not, but given his previous reputation, he thinks it shouldn’t be that big of a deal. He clears his throat and nods as he drinks more of his coffee. He tries to distract himself from the weird feeling bubbling in his chest with how cute you looked in his clothes.

“Do you not have any plans for the break?” You switch the subject, noticing that the house was empty for the most part.

“Nah,” he shakes his head. “I’m from here, so it isn’t really much of a drive to visit home. I’ll go over on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and New Years but that’s about it. Other than that, I like to enjoy having the whole house to myself.”

“Woah, me too! My friends are all from out of town though, so I’m usually really lonely. It’s always so odd thinking about how this is just a stepping stone for people’s lives and I’ve been here all of mine.” You stir some cream and sugar into your coffee, pursing your lips. “So, I take it you’re not doing anything today?”

“Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada,” Hyunjae leans back in his chair. “I’ll probably just watch some movies and call it a day. What about you? Any plans for the break since all of your friends are gone?”

“I have just as many as you.” You sip on your beverage.

“Well, the couch space next to me will be unoccupied if you’d like to join me.”

“I think I might take you up on that offer.”

You feel like maybe this was some sort of elaborate scheme to trap you. Your eyes kept flickering from the TV to his profile, entranced by the blue light illuminating his features. You wanted nothing more than to claim your seat on his lap and ride him into the sunset like a gallant steed, which was ironic considering the way the two of you met.

It’s in the middle of the third movie that you finally feel yourself grow restless. No way could you sit beside Lee Hyunjae, spend the whole day with him, and not jump his bones. It was, like, the most obvious thing to do. It was Lee Hyunjae. Did he expect you not to?

He feels you squirming next to him, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. In all honesty, he’s surprised he’s abstained from touching you this long. From the moment he saw you in his clothes this morning, he wanted you underneath him. He doesn’t know how to initiate anything without seeming too forward though.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to make much effort on his part.

You place one of your hands on his thigh, dragging your nail along the seam of his sweatpants. He turns to you with a raised eyebrow. All you can do is bat your eyelashes at him innocently.

“You know, Hyunjae, I never got to properly thank you for your act of nobility last night,” you start, fingers creeping up higher. “And I just thought of something that I think we’ll both like.”

He doesn’t have the strength in him to restrain himself after that, pulling you into a heated kiss. He nips at your lower lip and tangles his tongue with your own, getting easily lost in the spellbinding of your touch. Your lips trail along his jaw and down his neck, hooking your fingers into the waistband of his pants. You suck deep marks into the skin of his pulse point while simultaneously palming him through his underwear.

You’re moving fast, but you’re on a mission. You’ve been waiting for this all day, you can’t imagine slowing down now. It doesn’t appear that he plans on stopping you either.

Hyunjae throws his head back, hissing when you discard his boxers. The cool air of the house hits his cock at the same time you bite down on the divot where his neck meets his shoulder. Your hand gently wraps around his length, thumb running over the slit to collect the precum that’s formed there. He watches in a trance as you go on your knees between his legs.

You press a sweet kiss to his tip before taking him into your mouth. He groans, twisting your hair around his wrist so he can control your movements. Hyunjae doesn’t think he’s ever wanted head this badly in his life. He’s always been a giving person, always providing the pleasure for the girl he was with. There were only a handful of times that he’s ever been on the receiving end and none of them were memorable. But this time is different.

For some reason, you’re the only one who’s ever been able to get him this riled up this quickly. You’re still relatively a stranger to him, and even though he’s had plenty of one night stands, it’s unlike any of the others.

Your throat relaxes so you can swallow more of him, tongue swirling around the tip. He’s the biggest guy you’ve ever been with, making things a little harder for you, but you were never one to back down from a challenge. And getting Lee Hyunjae to cum from the work of your mouth alone was the ultimate reward.

Hyunjae moans when your attention focuses on his sensitive slit. The sound is music to your ears, goading you into continuing your task. You gag around his dick and tears prick at your eyes when he pushes your face down further, your nose brushing the lower part of his abdomen. One of your hands wanders, tracing and scratching his abs as the other jerks him off.

He swipes away some stray tears with his thumb, bucking into your mouth and hand. “Fucking look at you, taking me like a good girl. You’re so filthy.”

You whine, squeezing your thighs together for your own friction. You can wait, though, entirely too focused on getting him to finish. You’re thankful it isn’t that much longer until he does, painting your lips and cheeks with his release when you pull off of him to press a cute kiss on the same spot. He knows he finished too fast for someone of his caliber, but he doesn’t have it in him to care.

“You’re so hot,” he brings you up to connect your lips once again.

It was very easy to fall into a habit after that.

Throughout the entirety of the break, Hyunjae would call you over or vice versa and you’d rock each other’s world’s. It was practically an entire month of fucking nonstop. You’d done it in the TBZ house living room, in his bed, in the kitchen, in the shower and every other surface you could think of. Your own apartment had been christened plenty with your sexcapades also. Both of your cars had seen you naked too. But the most memorable place had to be his childhood bedroom the night of Christmas. He went to his parents’ for a couple days and hit you with that 3 AM “You up?” text when his libido couldn’t quell. That was probably the quietest you’d ever have to be.

Hyunjae had to explain to his mom that no, he hadn’t gotten mauled by a wild animal in his sleep. It was harder coming up with another plausible lie to cover the source of the hickeys on his neck, but he’d rather tell his mother something stupid than the fact that he was an insatiable freak.

When it came time for everyone to return to school for the spring semester, you’d deluded yourself into thinking there could be something real between you and Hyunjae. I mean, what else were you supposed to do? This gorgeous man had spent almost every single day of winter break with you, even if it was mostly for the sex. That wasn’t all you did though. You shared meals together and talked about your life goals. You truly got to know him better than just the hot frat guy who’s made his rounds with girls on campus.

However, Hyunjae did not think he was ready for that level of commitment.

After spending a month with you and learning all of your little quirks, he thought he was going insane. He’d been in situationships in the past and none of them ever ended well, especially because they always caught feelings. He didn’t want the two of you to fall down the same path. But he noticed the linger of your touches and kisses and the way your eyes sparkled when he spoke. He didn’t want to be the one to break your heart.

He just couldn’t see himself getting into a serious relationship. He was preparing to apply for law schools and get his shit together. He didn’t think he couldn’t handle throwing a girlfriend into the mix. Even if it was you. Bold, pretty little you, who had Lee Hyunjae wrapped around her finger without trying.

Things come to a speeding halt for both of you halfway into the second week back.

Hyunjae was walking out of his Crime Mapping II lecture when he saw you chatting up Cha Eunwoo outside of the building, giggling and being all touchy with him. He doesn’t know why he feels so… stuffy… when he sees that. He doesn’t know why it makes him mad. He doesn’t know why it feels like his heart has just been stomped on a handful of times.

He walks over to you and clears his throat, hands shoving into his jacket pockets. He tries to ignore how cute you look in your puffer coat, nose rosy from the cold. You pause in your conversation to say hi to him before resuming whatever you were saying before. It was like he was invisible.

“I gotta go, but I’ll see you in class tomorrow?” You tuck some hair behind your ear, smiling at the male.

“For sure. Talk to you later, Y/N.” He says, waving as he takes off.

Hyunjae starts in the opposite direction wordlessly, leaving you to stumble behind him like a newborn deer. He looks upset about something, but you’re not sure if you should ask. When you finally match his pace, you frown, tapping his shoulder.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Since when were you friends with Cha Eunwoo?” Hyunjae blurts, tone catching you off guard. You blink at his outburst.

“For a while, I guess? We’re in the same department and we’ve had a few classes together. Why? Is that a problem?” You stop your steps, forcing him to do the same.

“No, why would it be? I’m not your boyfriend. You can talk to whoever you want.” He backtracks, realizing the connotation behind his question. Shit, why does he not think before he speaks?

“You could be,” you shrug, gaze casted downward to avoid his stare. “You could be my boyfriend.”

Again, because he’s a stupid boy, he chooses not to use his brain in such a critical situation. “I don’t want to be. You can date him for all I care.”

Hyunjae didn’t want to be the one to break your heart, but he knows he did when he sees the flame in your eyes die out. He thinks he broke his own too, chest constricting when tears well up in the corners. You wipe your runny nose with your gloved hand, sniffling with a scoff.

“Fuck you, Hyunjae,” your voice is surprisingly calm, and that scares him more. “Fuck you and your stupid fucking commitment issues and your lack of empathy. Stay away from me.”

He can’t even think of something quick enough to stop you. Of course, his mind runs at a million miles a minute when it’s the worst time. But when he needs it to work most, it fails on him. That’s exactly his luck.

He just stares as your figure gets smaller and smaller, getting further and further away from his reach. His stomach feels ugly, twisted in a way it shouldn’t be. Maybe it’s because he’d considered you a close friend at this point, and now there’s no way you didn’t hate him. He told you things that he hadn’t even told his brothers, things that he hoped would never see the light of day. He’d spoken his insecurities out into the world and you were the one he let see that vulnerable side of him. He had something good going for him finally, and he went and ruined it.

Who could he be mad at but himself?

When Hyunjae sees you again, it’s been at least a week since your argument in the middle of campus.

He’d been beating himself up over the fight the entire time. Numerous what-if scenarios ran through his mind when he should’ve been sleeping. He wonders what he could’ve said to make everything turn out differently. Had he just told you what was bothering him, told you about that icky sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, perhaps you wouldn’t have walked away.

He’s pretty sure you’re doing it on purpose. You avoided him until you knew you’d definitely see him, and then you’d flaunt yourself to purposefully piss him off. Despite only knowing each other for a little over a month, you had Hyunjae read like the back of your hand. You knew he was stubborn and had to be pushed into admitting he was wrong. He’d never outright confess to his mistakes unless you backed him into a corner and forced him to.

So you can imagine his reaction when he saw you walk into that week’s TBZ party with Cha Eunwoo around your shoulders.

If Lee Hyunjae had any faults, it was that he was too prideful. He realizes this when you stroll right past him, ignoring his presence. You giggle at something Eunwoo said as you grab some drinks. There’s no way you aren’t doing this to get on his nerves. Especially not in that outfit.

His grip on his cup is not normal, he knows that. But it’s not subtle if anyone notices and when Juyeon of all people points it out, he knows it even more.

“Yo, dude. Are you good? You look like you might kill somebody if we’d let you.” The younger male pats his back.

“Honestly, no, not really. But there isn’t really anything I can do about it.” Hyunjae huffs, welcoming his defeat with open arms.

“You can talk to me about things. It’s kinda weird but I always feel like getting out your thoughts is better than internalizing and blowing up randomly.” He says after a moment.

“I guess I’m just confused why I’m so jealous of something that isn’t mine.” The heart to heart with his frat brother follows the entire five stages of grief, starting with step one; Denial. He’ll keep denying the real reason he feels the way he does.

“Are you talking about that girl you were messing around with during break?” Juyeon asks, bringing his cup to his mouth. “And the fact that she’s here with Cha Eunwoo?”

Step two; Anger. His cup snaps and the sharp edge of the plastic scratches the inside of his palm. “Why would I be jealous of her being here with him? I could give less of a fuck about that. She’s not my girlfriend, she can do whatever she wants.”

He raises an eyebrow at how defensive his senior gets, lips quirking up. “Sure, Hyunjae. You’re not jealous. But you’re acting like it and you know you are.”

“Well,” step three; bargaining. “I’m not not jealous, I just— I don’t know. I’ve never been on this side of the situation before. Am I even allowed to be mad about it?”

“I mean, it’s a little unconventional, but yeah, I think you are. You spent the better part of a month getting to know this girl. You’ve seen her in ways other people haven’t. Even if you weren’t going into it with the intention to start something, I think it’s hard not to want anything after. Unless you’re completely heartless. But you’re not exactly The Grinch, so.” Juyeon sounds too wise for standing in the middle of a frat party.

“Nothing’s gonna happen now, though. She hates me and wants nothing to do with me because I screwed up.” Step four; Depression.

“You don’t know that unless you make an attempt to fix it,” his junior sighs. “Look, she’s gonna keep projecting how upset you made her if you aren’t gonna do something about it. But there’s a high chance that she’ll forgive you if you’re just real with her.”

And last, but not least, step five. Acceptance. Lee Hyunjae has finally accepted that he’s not an emotionless robot incapable of producing feelings for someone. He takes Juyeon’s advice right then and there, deciding that this is something he has to do immediately. (He also knows how much you can drink at these things and he preferred that you were sober when he spoke to you.)

He thanks his friend and sets off to search for you in the sea of already drunk university students. He’s anxious. He’s never been the type to have serious discussions about anything, really. He assumes that it stems from never seeing that in his own parents. They loved each other, yeah, but they never really talked about difficult topics with each other. Or, in front of him they didn’t.

Hyunjae thinks he might throw up when he finds you in the other room. Cha Eunwoo is still glued to your side, but he’s hardly paying attention to you, talking to his friends. You look bored, like you were waiting for something— or someone— to save you. This was his opportunity.

Your eyes widen when you see him heading straight for you, swallowing thickly. There wasn’t any route of escape so you were stuck having to deal with him. In all honesty, the hurt was still very fresh for you, and you weren’t sure you could handle talking to him yet.

“Can we please talk? I need to tell you something,” he yells over the loud music.

“Why should I listen to what you have to say?” Your tone is shaky, wavering slightly, but you’re grateful that he can’t hear it with how voluminous this party is.

“Y/N,” he pleads almost, eyes communicating what you needed to hear. “This is important.”

You concede, sneaking from Eunwoo and following Hyunjae blindly. You could be getting whisked away to your demise, but the former hardly even notices, too engrossed in whatever he was saying to his friends. You’re a bit apprehensive when Hyunjae takes you into his bedroom, biting your cheek when the memories of what you’ve done in here come flooding back to you.

“Okay, I don’t know how to put this into a coherent thought,” he turns his back to you.

“Can we just get this over with? You don’t want me, remember? I don’t even know why I’m giving you the time of day—“

“Of course I want you,” he exclaims, spinning around and pinching the bridge of his nose. “God, are you blind? It’s so obvious that I’ve wanted you for so long, Y/N. I’m just stupid and I fucked everything up, because I was scared that things would change and I’m afraid of change. That’s the reason why I have commitment problems. I don’t want to commit myself to something just for everything to change in the blink of an eye.”

You shut up after that, your heart skipping in your chest. This was what you wanted. You wanted a messy confession. Something that told you it wasn’t all in your head. That you weren’t making things up. That he felt the same way you did.

Your lips collide in a rough, desperate manner. Hyunjae’s never had a way with words, so kissing you with every ounce of longing in his being and holding you like you’d disappear any second was his outlet. This was how he could show you his true feelings. Your heart rate transitions from your pulse point to your ears, amplifying with each suck of your bottom lip between his teeth

You’ve done this so many times before, but it will never be the same as this one. No one could ever make you feel the way Lee Hyunjae does. It might be crazy, but it only took a month for you to realize that there will never be another for you. The conversations that trickled into early hours of the morning following going at it like jackrabbits were perfect to you. They weren’t ideal, but they were enough.

The two of you walk backwards until he’s sitting on the edge of his bed, your knees on either side of his lap. You cup his jaw in your hands, grinding down on him every time your lips move together. Hyunjae’s fingers dig into your sides and push up the material of your dress. He’s moving fast, rushed like you might decide you don’t want this and walk out of his room.

You can’t really blame him, your pace disorganized with only one goal in mind. Neither of you could be bothered with the foreplay, too needy and craving the touch of one another as quickly as possible. You part from him to pull off your dress, eyes fluttering shut when he starts leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach. He doesn’t want to waste time commenting on the fact that you were braless underneath so he busies himself with pecking the tops of your tits. Your fingers card through his hair with an extended sigh, noticing how long it’s gotten since you first met.

Hyunjae pushes his pants down his legs as you yank his shirt over his head, reconnecting your lips. He uses his ring and middle fingers to shove aside your underwear, discarding his own shortly after. Your mouth nips and bites your favorite places on his neck, ensuring you mark the surface so everyone knows who he belongs to. You were the one who acquired the key to Lee Hyunjae’s heart.

Your teeth sink into his skin the moment he slips inside of you, both of you moaning when he slides right into your cunt like he was meant to be there. You whine when he bottoms out, your sensitive clit bumping into his pelvic bone. You’re so warm and inviting, Hyunjae feels like he’s falling under a spell. Just being inside of you feels like a form of hypnosis. If it was up to him, he’d stay here forever, content to sit with his cock stuffed in you without interruption. But you both yearn for more than that.

He tightens his grip on your hips, bucking upwards into you and watching with heavy eyes as a whine spills from your lips. You look so fucked out despite him doing absolutely nothing to you yet. He thrusts up again experimentally, grinning when your upper half knocks into his.

“Feel good, baby?” He coos into your ear, nipping at the lobe and the area surrounding.

You nod with a whimper when his cock brushes that sweet spot deep inside your pussy. “Mhm, feels so— fuck, Jae, want it harder.”

“Anything for my pretty girl,” he smiles into your skin.

He increases the speed that he fucks into you, pinning down your hips so you can’t move and all you can do is take it. It’s like you can feel him in your abdomen, his cock plunging in you so far. You’d think after a month of fucking practically every day, you’d be used to his size by now. However, that was just not attainable. You don’t think you could ever get used to how big he was, how thick he was.

The force that he drives into you with is unmatched, miles apart from what he’s given you before. It’s like he wants to burn the shape of himself inside you, so you never forget that he’s the one making you feel like this. Nobody but Hyunjae can fuck you this well.

He moves you further up the bed, flattening his feet on the mattress and laying down so he can press deeper, a new angle that has your vision going blank. You don’t think twice about the volume of your cries, letting him know how good he’s giving it to you. You’re encouraging him, wanting him to get cockier so he can keep fucking you into oblivion. Your fingers grasp at the sheets beside his head for support.

Hyunjae’s nails impress crescent shapes into your waist, his mouth returning to your tits so he can leave his own marks all over your chest. It’s when your clit rubs against his lower stomach again that you let go, your orgasm crashing into like a train. It winds you, ripping your breath from your throat and stealing your oxygen. He’s close behind, the feeling of your walls clenching around him in rapid intervals triggering his own.

He fills you up nicely, both of you releasing guttural groans at the sight of his cum dripping out of you. You’re too exhausted to get up, collapsing on top of him. He doesn’t mind, more than happy to stay buried inside of you even if you didn’t do anything.

“So…” You start after a bit of silence, drawing unrecognizable shapes on his chest. “You’ve wanted me for so long, huh?”

“Shut up,” he laughs, eyes closed while he recuperates from using all of his energy on you. “This is still new for me.”

“I know, Mr. Emotionally Constipated And I Don’t Date ‘Cause I’m Going To Be A Big Fancy Hotshot Lawyer,” you tease, pecking his lips and then his nose. “I must be extremely special to be the one who changed your mind.”

“You’ll be the death of me, you know that right?” He shakes his head, brushing some of your hair from your face. You smile down at him with an unfamiliar fondness in your eyes.

“Why else do you think we’ve gotten this far?”

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[daddyslilchickenfingers2]

Slutmas Day 6

Stressed & Insecure (Matt)

Request: None

Warnings: Mommy kink, talk of poor mental heath, angsty at first, Matt being insecure, talk of body dysmorphia, friends to lovers, cockwarming, oral, whiny Matt

“You’re such a good boy for letting mommy take care of you like this”

Matt’s pov

Everything sucks right now, I’m so busy with work, it’s taking up all of my time, and everything going on right now backs up to that. I was purely stressed from work originally, which I know might seem easy, but don’t be fooled because it’s not. We’ve had so many meetings for sponsored content, videos, guest appearances, and merch designing, on top of filming for our YouTube and the Podcast. I’m genuinely just drained, my anxiety is high, I can’t sleep, and I’m overall in a bad mood.

I know what you’re thinking, ‘why not just jack off?’ well that’s because I can’t. I guess with being stressed and overwhelmed by everything, my cock just won’t get hard. It probably doesn’t help that my body is constantly getting hated on because of my weight, it makes me really insecure and uncomfortable with myself and my body. I was sitting at my desk doing some more online work and it was pissing me off, I’m so frustrated! I’m just doing so much overthinking and it’s making me stressed, overwhelmed, and insecure.

Just as I threw my notebook across the room there was a small knock and Chris popped his head in. “Matt, are you alright? Do you need anything?” Chris asked, knowing I wasn’t in the best mental state. “I’m fine, I just want to be alone” I sighed back, “Are you still coming to Larray’s house with us tonight?” I completely forgot about that. Chris looked a bit disappointed by my answer but he understood, “Nah I’m just gonna stay here, ‘m stressed and overwhelmed right now so I won’t be any fun” I said before Chris closed the door.

That was my insecurities talking, I always found myself rather boring and unenthusiastic when I’m in these moods. It had been about an hour of trying to get hard and then sitting in my chair with my head in my hands. My door slowly creeped open and I immediately assumed it was Chris or Nick. “Get the fuck out of my room!” I yelled, turning around to be met with my best friends confused face. “I’m sorry, Chris said they were leaving and I should come keep you company because you’re having a bad day. I didn’t mean to make you upset” Y/n said quite nervously. I slammed my fist down on my desk before completely losing it, hot tears rolling down my face.

1 hour earlier

Y/n’s pov

I was at a nail appointment when I got a text message, I was already done with my fingers and in the chair for my toes.

iMessage start at 5:02pm

Chrisizzle🍊

bro are you busy

Y/n/n🪼

i’m getting my toes done rn

why

Chrisizzle🍊

at 5:30 me and nick are going to larray’s for the night

so i wanted to ask you a favor

yk how matt’s been kinda moody lately?

well today he’s really stressed and sad so he’s in a bad mood and i don’t want him to be alone tonight so can you head over afterwards and chill with him?

Y/n/n🪼

you literally just set up a playdate for your child lmao

but yeah i’ll go over there, i’ve missed my matty poo

Chrisizzle🍊

wow but you don’t miss me

that one hurt Y/n/n 🥲

anyways lmk when you get to our house bc we leave in 15

Y/n/n🪼

awe of course i miss you too sizzle 🤍

i’m abt to pay then I’ll head over

Chrisizzle🍊

don’t call me sizzle

*Y/n/n🪼 disliked this message*

iMessage ends at 5:37pm

The message had been from one of my best friends, Chris, he asked if I would go hang with his triplet bother, Matt, for tonight. I know he’s been getting a lot of hate about his attitude/weight and has been down the past 2 or 3 weeks, so I was hoping to cheer him up. I drove directly to the boys house after paying for my nails since I had a bunch of essentials over there and didn’t need anything from home.

I let myself in with my key and walked up to Matt’s room, which groans of frustration could be heard coming from. I lightly knocked before entering his room, as I was reclosing the door Matt yelled. “Get the fuck out of my room!” he said angrily, Matt’s never yelled at me before and he looked so pissed off that I got a little nervous.

I quickly replied with “I’m sorry, Chris said they were leaving and I should come keep you company because you’re having a bad day. I didn’t mean to make you upset” he looked at me for a second before I saw his face change to one of pain, hurt, and anxiety. Matt slammed his fist onto his desk yelling “Fuck!” before choking out into sobs.

His whole body was shaking and he slid out of his chair onto the floor, something he does when he’s really, really upset. I immediately ran over to sit next to him, wrapping my arms around his shaking figure. “I’m sorry! They hate me and I’m sorry!” he blurted out, causing me to be a bit confused as Matt’s hands desperately clung onto my shirt.

“It’s okay Matt, let it all out. You’re safe honey, I’ve got you-“ I was cut off by Matt pulling away from my shirt and basically screamed out in pain. “I don’t know what the fuck I did! Y/n, what’s wrong with me!? A-Am I not good enough!? I’m too skinny, I try to eat more but I can’t gain weight, I fucking hate my body! All I keep doing is disappointing everyone, Y/n I-I don-“ he started spiraling into a panic attack and I was worried, I have never seen Matt this bad before.

I didn’t know what else to do so I pushed past my own anxieties and kissed him. I cupped both of his cheeks and smashed our lips together, Matt was shocked at first so he didn’t kiss back but once he realized what was happening, he kissed back. I pulled away and Matt’s lips tried to chase mine before he opened his eye.

“W-What was that for?” he asked, a bit breathless from his previous breakdown. I suddenly felt shy so I looked down, “I uh- I didn’t know how else to get you to stop talking” I said, nervously playing with my fingers. “Oh, well thanks?” he said in a questioning tone, “Did you mean what you said about your body? Do you really think that?” I softly asked.

Matt groaned and stood up, offering me his hand, “I don’t want to talk about it but yes, I do hate my body” he mumbled as I too stood up. We made our way over to his bed and laid there in silence for a few minutes. I rolled over to my side facing Matt “Have you tried cumming?” I questioned quietly, “What!?” he rolled to face me as well, confused by what I just said.

“You know, because you’re stressed. I think I read somewhere that having an orgasm helps to relieve stress” Matt’s face was now painted red. He rolled over to be flat on his back again, “I’ve tried but I can’t get hard” he exhaled deeply. “Oh… I could try to help if you want” I offered, chewing on my nails, Matt turned to face me again, “Help.. me get… Help me get hard?” he questioned nervously.

We both had blush covering our faces at this point, “Yeah, then I can go chill in Nicks room and you can jerk off” I smiled shyly. “I mean that could work but I don’t want to be naked if you have clothes on” “You don’t have to be naked, you just have to trust me” “I-I trust you, how do we start though?” we conversed. I took a moment to think before asking, “Do you want to make out first, I know I’m like a lot bigger than you so I don’t know if it would be a problem for me to sit on your lap. Is it a problem?” I asked self-consciously as we both sat up.

Matt looked at me with an unamused look, “If that’s your way of making me feel worse about my body, it worked because your body is amazing” he huffed out, avoiding looking at me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel that way” I said with a sad smile, upset that I hurt Matts feelings. “I know you didn’t but my body is like the main reason I cant get hard. I don’t like looking at myself naked, it shows off too much of what’s wrong with me” he replied.

It was silent again for a few minute until I broke the silence again, “I think it’s hot” “What?” Matt looked at me confused. “Your body, I think it’s hot” I smirked, “You think so?” “I know so, don’t you ever notice me staring at you when you’re shirtless or only wearing your boxers?” I teased some more. “I haven’t noticed actually, however, I have noticed you’re not on my lap yet” Matt pouted, pulling me onto his lap.

I was about to say something but was cut off by Matt grabbing the side of my face/neck and pulled me into a sweet kiss that quickly turned needy. I pulled back for a second to catch my breath, “Shit, I’m sorry! I’m just so touch starved and crave physical affection. You were gonna say something?” he panicked. “It’s okay, I know that physical touch is your love language, it’s one of the things I like about you. I forgot what I was going to say but I can tell you I’ll kiss you again” I giggled.

With that, Matt pulled my face to his again and this time the kiss was soft, yet also rough and needy. I had my hands wrapped around Matt’s neck, but his laid awkwardly at his sides, almost as if he’s scared to touch me. I pulled back from the kiss to grab his wrist and mumbled something against his lips. “You can touch me you know” I smirked as I placed Matt’s hands on my waist and went back to kissing him.

Matt’s hands quickly slid down and tightly gripped onto my hips, slowly starting to rock me back and forth. I started feeling his cock get hard and once I could tell he was fully hard, I stopped everything which caused Matt to let out a displeased whine. “Mmh why’d you stop?” he pouted, “Because you’re hard now, which means it’s my queue to leave” I said while trying to get up.

Matt held my hips down and begged, “Please don’t go! I-I don’t think I’ll be able to make myself cum, me being alone with my naked body sounds like a bad dream” he sighed. Piggybacking off what was just said he added, “W-Would you please m-make me feel good? I’ll let you have your way with me as long as it’s not super rough because I’m not in the mood for that” his eyes got a shade or two darker.

“Yeah, I can give you head if you want or you can sit back, relax and enjoy the full sub treatment” “Does the full sub treatment include sex? Because I’ve never been the submissive one before, I uh usually do doggy so my body isn’t seen as much. I’ve never even had a chick ride me before but you being on top sounds really hot, we don’t to have sex by the way, I was just saying if you wanted to I’m down” Matt confessed.

“If you stop talking about sex with other women, you have a deal. I might keep my shirt on though” I replied as I started slowly rocking my hips again. Matt’s grip on my waist tightened and he thrusted his hips up, his hard-on pressing against my clit so nicely that I let out a small, quiet moan. His eyes grew even darker after that, “No you will not. I wanna see your beautiful belly, I just know it’s gonna turn me on so much more” he instructed me.

I blushed and nodded, “Okay then handsome, just lay back and let me do all the work, tonight is all about you” I said, watching him nod before my lips were on his. I slid my tongue across his bottom lip, silently asking for access to his mouth which was quickly granted. He had a bit of trouble giving up control over the kiss at first but once I started trailing my kisses down his throat, he finally gave up on trying to win.

Matt’s pov

After Y/n had dominated the kiss, we made out for a bit before she started kissing down my neck. Once she reached the collar of my shit, she stopped and stood up to unbutton her pants. “If you really want me to make you feel good, take your pants off for me” she said seductively as she pulled off her own baggy jeans. I followed her directions and pulled my sweats off before grabbing her hand and leading her to sit on my lap again.

Y/n sat on my lap again before taking off her shirt, leaving her in a black lacy bra with matching panties. “Fuck… you look so goddamn beautiful” I said while looking into her eyes, my hands running up her thighs. “Mmm, thank you handsome. Can I take your shirt off?” she smiled, placing a short but sweet kiss to my lips, “You can do whatever you want to me” I panted, already being completely whipped for her.

She took my shirt off before whispering in my ear, “You’re such a good boy for letting mommy taking care of you like this” as I helped her get my pants and boxers off. “Such a pretty cock Matty. You gonna let me make you feel good?” Y/n teased, making me squirm a bit. “Please! Please just make me cum!” I pathetically begged as I watched her hand slowly move up and down my cock.

Y/n’s pov

“Anything for my sweet boy. Now tell me what it is that you want baby” I asked softly, loving how fucked out he looked already. “Want your mouth please mommy! Want you to ride me after!” Matt confessed all whiny and desperate, and who was I to deny him that? Without a word, I nodded before bring his tip into my mouth, loving the whimper he let out, “Yeah j-just like that, fuck!” he groaned as I swirled my tongue around his tip.

After teasing Matt a little bit, I decided to fully take him into my mouth, almost immediately deepthroating his cock. “Holy shit mommy! You’re so good at this! I won’t last long!” he cried out, bucking his hips up when I hummed against him. I continued doing this for a few more minutes when I felt Matt start to twitch in my mouth, his lower abdomen contacting as well.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum— shit!” he whimpered as his hips thrusted upward and his left hand came down to hold my head in place. His right hand was pulling at his own hair as he shout a huge load into my mouth, so much that it was literally dripping out of the corners of my mouth. As I came up for air, I wiped the corners of my mouth to clean up the spilled cum and then licked it off.

“Did that feel good Matty? You were such a good boy” I smile as I placed a sweet kiss to his lips. “More! I-I need more! Y/n please, I need you to ride me. I’m so fucking hard still, I need to drain my balls in you” Matt begged me. “So needed aren’t we?” “Yes, please I need you” Matt nearly yelled with tears in his eyes. “Okay, okay, calm down sweet boy. You’ll get what you want, just be patient” I spoke softly as I pulled off my panties and unhooked my bra.

Matts hands immediately went down to my ass, staring up at me with a look of desperation. “Are you gonna be a good boy?” “Very good!” I smiled as I slowly sunk down on his cock, trying to adjust to how long and thick it was. “S-So tight mommy! So f-fucking tight!” Matt whimpered out as I started to move up and down with the help of him. Both of us were moaning quite loudly as I started to move faster, pulling his hair in the process.

“Such a good boy Matty, making mommy feel so good with your big cock!” “W-Want you to cum. Wanna f-fill you up” Matt grunted as he started bucking his hips up into me at a fast pace. We were both very close and with one more thrust that hit my g-spot perfectly, I was cumming on his cock. “Fuck Matt, I’m cumming. Oh god— cum for me baby!” I cried as I rode through my orgasm, starting to slightly overstimulated but wanting Matt to cum.

With a loud whiny growl, Matt came inside of me, this load was equally as big as the one from earlier, instantly dripping down his balls. “Holy shit— I love you, and I’m not just saying that because you gave me the most mind blowing orgasm ever. I genuinely love you Y/n” Matt confess as he started to rub my back. “I love you too Matt, I mean it” I smiled as I placed a soft kiss to his lips “Don’t get off, cockwarm me all night please” he sweetly asked.

I agreed and we got situated so we could lay down, Matt turning off his bedside lamp in the process. “Tomorrow, I’m gonna take you on the best date of your life, but for now, goodnight pretty lady” “Goodnight Matt, I love you” I mumbled into his neck, feeling the sleep take over my body. “I love you too, and thank you for tonight. Now get some rest baby” was the final thing to be said before we drifted off to sleep.

All work is subject to copyright

© Daddyslilchickenfingers2 2023

Do not steal my work

[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ MIDNIGHTS — track one : lavender haze

summary. you're dragged to a house party by your best friend, and subsequently meet two men that will change your life, all in one night.

featuring. rodolfo 'rudy' parra + alejandro vargas

warnings. nsfw, alcohol consumption, modern au, implied drug use, f/m/m, mutually under the influence, partying, slight peer pressure, public sex (?), bathroom sex, oral, degradation, strangers to lovers

series masterlist.

"Jesus christ," you murmur, wincing at the sudden and overpowering smell of weed, cruisers and sweat. Not exactly an appealing mix, but not revolting, at least. Better than vomit. Too early in the night for that, you supposed.

Valeria mutters something under her breath, and with a roll of her eyes, drags you by the scuff of your neck to the kitchen.

Bodies litter every open bit of room on the floor, grinding against each other, neon lights casting vibrant colours over the sheen of sweat on their skin. It's oddly enchanting.

The glitter littered on your collarbones and cleavage shine in the cascading lights, and you hope that you look somewhat confident, even if you feel anything but. You weren't one for house parties, hell, this was one of your first, but Valeria had convinced you to 'let loose' and 'have fun'.

You didn't say how you knew that this party was an excuse to get business done, but then again, that was why the two of you were so close.

Plausible deniability, and all that.

A drink is slammed into your chest, a little bit splashing onto your skin. You shoot an unamused glare Valeria's way, to which she just replies with a small shrug. "Drink."

"If it's drugged, I'll kill you," you say. ...Only half joking. You knew -- hoped -- that she wouldn't, but again, it was Valeria.

Another roll of her eyes and a scoff. "You can try."

You wouldn't, because at the end of the day, you did enjoy being alive and functioning. Both things were quite useful.

Valeria's eyes catch on something, or someone, behind you, and her glare narrows even further, her mouth hitching up into a hardly discreet scowl.

You turn, but she quickly grabs you by the hair to stop you from doing so. "Don't look," she seethes, venom in her tone.

"Didn't expect to see you here, Valeria," a man's voice chimes from behind you, snarky and impatient.

Your closest friend's lips pull into a cruel, cunning smile, void of any warmth as she glares at whoever's behind you. "Alejandro," she snarls, her voice bitter.

Swallowing, you nervously try and think of a way to get out from between whatever the fuck is going on here. You didn't exactly feel like getting involved in... whatever Valeria did under your nose.

"And who's she?" The man asks, sounding just the slightest bit closer. His tone has taken an interested, more curious tone, not nearly as harsh or abrasive.

You play with the necklace around your neck in nervous movements, trying to quell your growing anxiety.

Valeria huffs a cold laugh. "Not apart of this," is her only answer, accent thickening just the slightest, like it did when she was pissed off, or... scared. Which had only been once, in all fairness, and that was because of a spider.

"Vamos, necesitamos hablar. Sácala de aquí [Come on, we need to talk. Get her out of here]," the man spits out, vitriol heavy on his tongue like some kind of poison.

"Tócala y morirás, Alejandro [Touch her and you will die, Alejandro]," is Valeria's hiss of a reply, her hold tightening in your hair. You squeeze your eyes shut, nervous and completely out of your element, and scared shitless.

The man behind you -- Alejandro -- murmurs a bunch of curses under his breath, before he replies once more. "Rodolfo will keep her safe."

"¿Crees que confío en ti? [Do you think I trust you?]" Valeria's eyes burn with rage from what you can see in the dim lighting, and it sends a shiver down your spine. "Bien. Si ella tiene un rasguño, ambos moriréis [Fine. If she gets a scratch, you'll both die]."

She looks down to you, her hand falling from the fist it had in your hair. "If he so much as breathes at you wrong, yell for me," she mutters in a low tone, before pushing you towards someone without so much as another look in your direction.

Your breathing comes out in short, quick pants, when a warm arm slides around your waist. You flinch in surprise, looking up into warm brown eyes.

"Rodolfo," the man says, an introduction. His head gestures sharply to the man following after a fuming Valeria. "Alejandro."

You nod, albeit with confusion, and pray that your embarrassment isn't obvious on your face when you say your name in a way of greeting.

Rodolfo nods, and there's a calmness to him that settles your nerves and overall antsiness.

"¿Quieres bailar? [You want to dance?]" He asks, and you tilt your head slightly to the side. He raises a brow, taking in your appearance. Your black dress is completely and utterly slutty, but you had wanted to try and be a different person for a night.

...You were maybe, slightly, regretting it.

"I..." you start, unsure what to do or say, before he simply drags you towards the loungeroom, where everyone's packed like sardines.

His chest presses against your own, his arm still around your lower back. Your hands, nervously, rest at his chest, and you have to crane your neck a little to make eye contact.

You are so, so, so screwed.

His mouth tilts into a small smirk, obviously aware of your uncertainty. "I'm protecting you, hermosa [beautiful]. You're safe with me," he whispers, leaning in close to your ear, and you just about melt. His voice is velvety and smooth and so fucking attractive that you can't believe that you're even here right now.

Swallowing, you nod slowly. "Okay. I'm sorry," you tack on the last part, the words familiar on your tongue.

Your eyes go slightly wide when his hand comes up to direct your chin back up to meet his gaze, his eyes almost sparkling in the deep purple lights hung in this room. "No. None of that."

Your mouth is as dry as a desert.

But something else certainly isn't.

"How do you know Valeria?" You ask, because, really, you can't keep your mouth shut, can you?

Rodolfo seems to think for a moment, his features highlighted by the lights. The bass of the music thrums in your chest, and you can feel it from where your feet hit the floor, all the way to your fingertips, where they sit on his chest.

"...She's an old friend," is his response, and you can tell that there's a lot of heavy lifting behind the 'friend' title.

You nod, however, appeased with the answer. At least for now.

"You're not aware of her work?" He asks, wincing slightly at the last word. He's a solid weight at your front, oddly comforting for a man you had met not even five minutes ago, and who is clearly not in a white-collar kind of career path.

"No, um, not really my business," you say, deflecting.

A crease forms between his brows, and the swaying slows down. The two of you are surrounded at all sides, and it's hard to think, let alone breathe.

He's about to open his mouth to continue, when a sharp bark of his name makes his gaze instantly flick from you, to the other side of the room.

"Nosotros vamos [We're going]," The voice from before calls out -- Alejandro's voice. Rodolfo's arm at your waist tightens, if only slightly.

His gaze flickers back to yours, something swirling in their depths. Something that has your thighs squeezing just a bit together. You are so unbelievably parched -- from physical or mental thirst, you're not sure.

"Come with me," he says, voice lilted with an undercurrent of lust and desire. "Por favor, mi niña [please, my girl]."

Valeria had said to have fun, hadn't she? And you hadn't gotten all dressed up just to not get laid tonight, right?

So, like the 'new you' you are, you nod your head.

Rodolfo's returning smile is nothing short of vivaciously wicked, and tingles shoot up your spine as his hand rests heavy on your hip as he guides you out of the thick stream of people.

When your eyes meet Alejandro's, and you're standing mere feet in front of him, the man's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He directs a look to Rodolfo, and although you can't see the man's expression, you can tell that they're silently communicating.

Whatever the conclusion to their voiceless debate, it seems to weigh in your favour.

a/n. a teaser for the midnights series!! i have not forgotten about my plans for this one folks. taylor swift did infact intend for the album to be used as titles and vibes for call of duty fanfiction, in case u didnt know!

[party-lemon]

I've been wanting to make this post for a while and, in light of the absolute epic outfits at their first WWWY show, I thought this would be the perfect time:

My Chemical Romance is not the same.

When people think of MCR, they think of eyeliner and blood and vampires and red and black and doom and gloom. And, don't get me wrong, a number of Gerard's outfits show that we still get some of that:

But, nowadays, we also get:

And I'm not just talking about dresses. I'm not just talking about Gerard finally feeling comfortable to wear whatever he wants, because that could be from numerous other factors.

No, I'm also talking about:

They're having fun.

This band had been nonstop since 2003. They went from Bullets to Revenge to Black Parade to Danger Days without much of a break because they were great and they were expected to do something because that's what great bands do; they keep creating things, they churn stuff out for their fans and their industry, they bleed themselves dry for other people because that's their job.

My Chemical Romance thought they were done after The Black Parade. And then they kept going, only because they were desperately trying to rewrite themselves. To rid themselves of those crushing expectations to do something else great. But, no matter what they did, MCR couldn't escape them.

We don't really know the full story behind why they ended things. MCR is notorious for being rather cryptic. But I get the feeling that those expectations were too much. No matter how much they just tried to be themselves, to create things for themselves, to have fun, they couldn't. And constantly doing things for other people starts weighing very heavily. Expectations and threats are only separated by a fine line. And they were tired.

Did they always expect to return...who knows? Certainly not us. Like I said, MCR has always been cryptic. But I do know that they didn't come back the same as before.

My Chemical Romance came back and gave a big "fuck you" to expectations. I mean, The Foundations of Decay gives it all away. They've been playing a vast array of songs, some of which we've barely heard or they haven't played in years. Sister to Sleep, Fake Your Death, Mastas of Ravenkroft, Heaven Help Us, Bury Me in Black, Desert Song, Demolition Lovers. There's clips of Frank, Ray, and Mikey all playing in front of their kids. Frank and Gerard's piss and vinegar shirts, Ray wearing a Mikey Fuckin Way t-shirt, everyone hugging and laughing with each other, Frank literally saying he's having so much fun that he wants to keep playing, Gerard coming out in the most insane outfits, all of them just constantly smiling like a bunch of wonderstruck children.

So, no. MCR isn't the same. But they're having fun. And they're ridding themselves of what My Chemical Romance once was. There's bits and pieces still left that they'll still use but, for the most part, they're tearing down what once was and building something new. For all they knew, this could have all gone down in flames but they don't care because they're who they want to be. And they're giving the middle finger to expectations and to anyone who dares to say that MCR isn't good enough or was better before.

Nostalgia is no good when it blinds you to the better things in the present.

[tzyuki]

— (08.14.23) ZEROBASEONE

IN WHICH ✶ jj tzyuzki writes different enemies 2 lovers scenarios with the jebis!

genre 𓏸 ͘ ࣭⸰ gn!reader x non-idol!zb1 , e2l

warnings 𓏸 ͘ ࣭⸰ none that i know of, if so please tell me!

͏͏⏤ ☆ sung hanbin / 성한빈

you and hanbin would be “rivals” while working at a cafe. like when you guys are told to sell certain items on the menu you guys try and get more than the other. you start catching feelings for him when one day he defended you while getting yelled at by your boss.

͏͏⏤ ☆ kim jiwoong / 김지웅

you and jiwoong would be labeled as competing actors because you guys both were actors on hit dramas, the nets would compare characters / actors and you guys would get compared more than the others. so when you guys both landed a role on the same show you kind of had an image already set for him, you just saw him as your rival because of all the talk online. but when you found out that your characters would end up being a side relationship you were taken aback, but as filming happened you slowly fell in love with his personality.

͏͏⏤ ☆ zhang hao / 章昊

you and hao were popular among the music scene, while hao was getting invited to play at a bunch of weddings, you were getting invited to play at a bunch of birthday parties. you started to see him as a rival when people started to book him instead of you, your clients would message you saying “I’m so sorry y/n, can we cancel you?” and then on the day of the event you’d see photos of hao from the attendees who were crushing on him. you started to feel attracted to him when he was booked for a wedding of a friend, you could see how passionate he was while playing the violin and that hooked you in.

͏͏⏤ ☆ seok matthew / 석매튜

you had just found matthew annoying, for like no given reason…you just liked being a little hater and didnt understand why ppl were fawning over him. he knew you didn’t take much of a liking to him so he would purposely annoy you more. when he had gone back to korea you actually missed his annoyance.

͏͏⏤ ☆ kim taerae / 김태래

taerae and you were always fighting over the top two spots in a game that was currently popular. you guys would always juggle between the first and second spot. it irked both of you guys so much that even the sight of each other or the sound of e/o’s voice pissed you guys off. it’s only when you guys suddenly get placed into the same teams on another game is when you guys got close. learning that it’s pretty fun to play games with one another.

͏͏⏤ ☆ shen quanrui / 沈泉锐

you were honestly just jealous of the attention ricky got that it made you hate him. he had everyone loving him and you just didn’t understand it. you knew deep down that it was js pure jealousy but one day when ricky is your assigned partner you learn how soft spoken and sweet he could be, slowly understanding why he’s the center of the attention.

͏͏⏤ ☆ kim gyuvin / 김규빈

you hated how loud and chaotic gyuvin was. you were introverted and hated loud distractions. gyuvin and his friends would be at the library trying to study but they end up just goofing off. this made you grow a hatred for him because of how inconsiderate he was being. but when you are assigned to tutor him you find it kind of endearing on how clueless he was about a certain subject, but tried his best to understand it.

͏͏⏤ ☆ park gunwook / 박건욱

you guys were constantly up against each other academically. you guys were the schools best students and always fought for the top spot. you hated how he ‘stole’ the class president spot from you js because everyone found him charming and attractive. you had some personal problems going on, causing your grades to drop drastically. gunwook noticed this as your teachers would scold you. he thought you looked hopeless so he wanted to help you catch up, that’s when you started to learn how kind the boy is, definitely deserving the class president spot.

͏͏⏤ ☆ han yujin / 한유진

you and yujin would bicker all the time for no reason. one day two bickered while a lesson was going on and both got detention, your teacher making you guys sit next to each other and finish a worksheet tgt in hopes you’d get along by the end. you both were stubborn as hell … it took you guys a while to actually start on the worksheet but you guys learned that you can work well that day.

permanent taglist (open) 𓏸 ͘ ࣭⸰ @jangwonie @cwsana @luvyrin @shinsou-rii @amara-mars @ineedaherosavemeenow @mintydayeon @love-4-keum @kpopx-xlover @abdiitcryy @beepjeongie @ox1-lovesick @ja4hyvn @winkura @ddeonudepressions @tnyhees @wannabeyn @kpoprhia @svnghoonsonly @redm4ri @yerimse

[noxturnalpascal]

What's at Stake

(Vampire!)MaxPhillips x (VampireHunter!)F!Reader (7.8K)

Fic Exchange - Request Suggestion:  readers a vampire hunter, one night she’s killed a bunch trying to take down Max, he casually strolls into area “All that blood looks good on you, brings out your eyes.” Hate fucking/ enemies to lovers esque, have fun with it 

Merry Christmas @xdaddysprincessxx 💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️

Warnings: Enemies to Lovers. Slow Burn. Made Up Vampire Lore. Monster fucking. Talk of blood, biting, sucking, and bleeding.

Struggling against the bindings holding you to the office chair, you try to ignore his whining voice prattling on about how you ruined everything. Sat in the middle of an abandoned office building, you look around the room for any kind of weapon, for an exit, for a way out of your predicament. Suddenly his breathy chuckle is right at your ear. 

“I told ya that if ya kept fuckin’ sniffin’ around, the Boss wasn’t gonna like it, didn’t I?” he whispers.

You turn your head away from his hot breath fanning across your cheek, smelling like cinnamon and nutmeg.

“But you’re too goddamn stubborn to listen to me, aren’t ya?” he continues as he rounds your chair and grabs your face.

Fuck you, Max. You mutter between his squeezing palm. You’re pretty sure he understood you by the way he devilishly grins.

“We don’t have time for that unfortunately sweetheart,” he lets out an exaggerated sigh, “and what a shame that is.”

He rakes his gaze over you from head to toe. You feel the urge to shudder, but resist. However, you can’t stop the goosebumps from breaking out all over your skin. How is he doing this? Letting go of your face, he turns towards the guys behind you, the same ones who brought you into this room. He speaks to them in rapid Romanian. Your Romanian is pretty shit but you’re pretty sure you hear the words “deep” and “water.” 

This doesn’t bode well for you. He’s been pacing back and forth along the floor, chastising you for not listening to him, since you were brought in here hand-cuffed, leg-cuffed, and dripping red from head to toe. You think he might be a little angry that you just took out a small cadre - only two dozen human men - of his boss’ protection detail. Or maybe he’s mad about the way you hacked their security system so easily. 

Now that you're thinking about it though, he’s probably mainly pissed that you killed no less than eight of his family - vampires - just to get the necessary information on where his boss was holed up. It’s not your fault the first seven were so loyal that they didn’t give you what you needed. Maybe if he had more disloyal family members, you wouldn’t have had to kill so many of them. 

He brings his face towards yours again, wafting his scent over you. He smells like crisp air, a warm hearth, and baked goods. Max leans his face in so his lips are just brushing the skin over your jugular and inhales deeply. He lets a low mmmmmm rumble from his mouth before he slowly licks a stripe up the side of your neck, tasting the blood drying on your skin.

“You come in here, trussed up and marinated like a fuckin’ Christmas Goose, and what? You think I’m not gonna take a bite?” He grazes his teeth over your neck. “Cuz sweetheart, ya really look good enough to eat.”

You let him continue on with his little charade. You know this is all for show, more a display of dominance for the men behind you than anything else. He’s not going to drink your blood. You both know that your blood, like the blood of the long line of Vampire Hunters before you, tastes disgusting to him and anyone like him. That’s not to say he couldn’t drink it. But most vampires - Max included - are far too vain to drink five pints of something they can’t stomach.

Honestly you’re more worried about this whole “deep water” thing. 

“Can we skip this part and just get to the part where you reluctantly let me go only for me to inevitably find you again later?”

You hope the smug sarcasm you laid on covered up the desperation in your question.

“Not this time sweetheart,” he murmurs, digging through some paperwork on his desk. 

He picks up a single file folder and shouts more orders in Romanian, causing five men with garbage bags to come into the room. They open the file cabinets and desk drawers and start removing any and all paperwork, stuffing them into the bags. The three men behind you grab you out of the chair and you can’t help the surprised squeal that escapes your lips. 

“Hey, take it easy!” Max barks at them. Gripping you tight, they lower you to stand on the ground in front of him.

“I tried to warn ya sweetheart, I really did,” He brushes his thumb over your lips, gathering some still wet blood drops, and brings his thumb into his mouth to suck on the tip of it. “Goddamn, you look so fuckin’ good all covered in blood like this. It really brings out your eyes.”

He winks.

You sit up in bed in a sweat, panting heavily. You look around the room, eyes straining to focus in the dim light coming through the windows. You check the alarm clock. Just past 3am. Same as yesterday. And the day before that. And the day before that. No big deal, you just have the same fucking dream every single night. 

It’s probably fair to classify it as a nightmare at this point. The worst part isn’t the dream - one of your biggest failures. It isn’t who’s in the dream - arguably your arch nemesis. It isn’t even the memories it evokes - you struggling to fight for your life after being pushed off a cliff into a deep quarry lake and left to die. No, the worst part is that every night you wake up with soaking wet fucking panties. 

Max Fucking Phillips. How is he still doing this to you, all this time later?

You get up to check your email and for any replies to your posts on dozens of internet message boards. Nothing. The trail is cold. Ice cold. You have no clue where to look, you’ve been wandering aimlessly for months. The only thing warm are your thoughts of Max, plaguing your dreams each night.

Most vampires measure their age in decades, fewer measure it in centuries. But not Max’s maker. Zeno, or “the Boss,” as he’s affectionately called, measures his age in Millenia. You once heard that he’d bragged about hanging out with Alexander the Great, so it wouldn’t surprise you to learn that he saw the beheading of Kings and Queens, fought in the crusades, or gave military advice to Attila the Hun. 

He’s probably not even the oldest vampire to exist, if you think about it. He’s not the richest, not the most powerful, he’s not even the most evil. But he is the bane of your existence and the target of every one of your hunts. He’s also the fucker who killed nearly every relative of yours that ever tried to take him down, including your parents.

He’s the vampire that your family has been chasing for generations, ever since a failed turn rendered your great-great-great-great something into this - thing - he’s passed down the line. Not quite vampire, not quite human. Not a drinker of blood, but always thirsty. You aren’t immortal, you don’t have powers, and your regular teeth get regular checkups at the dentist. 

But your family is driven by a deep-seated hunger, both destined and cursed to seek out Zeno. Led by deep, instinctual urges, you’ve all stalked him across the ages, longing and needing to draw yourself closer to him. It was once explained to you that the craving you constantly feel is a vampire’s way of keeping those he’s fed on - both his victims and those he sired - close to him. 

It’s a false sense of loyalty. One that you and your family stopped feeling a long, long time ago. You especially, having been orphaned at 13, felt nothing but fury and hatred for this monster. He killed most of your family in one fell swoop. One night he came for vengeance and found it by taking your grandparents, 3 aunts, 4 uncles, 7 cousins, mother, and father away from you. Your Uncle Oz, maimed and having barely escaped the carnage, hasn’t left his house since.

It took you over a year to convince him to complete the training your father had started, giving you a chance to stand against this creature. In the last 15 years you’ve chased him around the globe, always catching his shadow as he turns a corner, never actually catching him. The closest you ever came was nearly five months ago, in California. 

After spending nearly two years searching the web, running down leads, questioning entranced villagers, and staking any vampire you came across, you’d finally gotten the lead you needed. A mid-level leech in an expensive suit had sung like a canary - turns out he had an unfortunate intolerance to allium in his mortal life that was severely exacerbated after his transformation.

His tip had landed you in a remote area south of San Francisco just after sunrise. You easily disabled the complicated security system, having spent months preparing for this exact moment. The next part you also planned for, taking out his human guards with well-placed, simple improvised explosive devices. Daytime afforded you some protection against dealing with his army of vampire followers while outside of the compound.

Once you got inside though, it was a different story. Your half-year of preparations went out the window when you were promptly overwhelmed by the loyal little fuckers crawling out of their coffins to protect their master. You’re not sure where your planning failed you, if it was their supernatural strength or just their sheer numbers. Either way, it landed you right where you didn’t want to be, in front of Max.

You’d dealt with Max before, he’d caught you sneaking around about a half dozen times now, sniffing around for a trail but still far behind your main target. He’d snatch you up by the scruff of your neck and give you a bonk on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper. At least that’s what it felt like. It felt like a fun little game the two of you played.

He’d always been flirty with you, dripping with smarmy charisma, but you didn’t let yourself fall for him. He was the enemy. You hated the way a dimple on his right cheek would come out when he gave you his signature smile with a wink. You hated the way he would make you forget about your dead parents for a while. You hated the way it would burn after he’d drag his fingers across your skin.

Hate him as you may, you felt like he understood you better than most people could. He knew what it was like to feel an uncontrollable urge. He also seemed to have a soft spot for you. He’d listened to you break down in tears once about your family and, to your surprise, didn’t judge you. He even once drove you to the hospital himself, dropping you off outside the ER after you fell two stories and broke your leg.

You actually thought he might be impressed last time with how close you got. Zeno was in the building, you were in the building. You’d never been so close. And yet, you accomplished nothing. Max shook his head at you once again, but this time he didn’t let you off with just a warning. He ordered his goons to execute you. It wasn’t fun anymore. It wasn’t a game.

Fuck him for ever making you feel playful. Fuck him for making you feel anything. Definitely fuck him for invading your dreams. Fuck. Him. The next time you saw Max Phillips, you were going to kill him. One less bloodsucking bastard standing in your way.

Several weeks later you find yourself in a seedy area of Moscow, dodging down alleyways and avoiding passing cars. You’d enlisted your Uncle Oz for help and he finally, reluctantly agreed, going so far as to hook you up with some old contacts of his. You’d been told about an increase in vampire activity in Russia, which of course the police and the news media would call something else; Missing Persons, Psychotic Slashers, Animal Attacks. 

You knew better. These were the telltale signs of Zeno’s army of bloodthirsty assholes moving into the area and eating their way through the local population. Typically they’d show up in waves and begin fucking, sucking, killing, and turning, strengthening their bodies and their numbers. You had no way of knowing if the Boss was among them, but it was your only lead.

Avoiding the streetlights as best you can, you continue to dart down side roads, struggling to read the signs and addresses in an alphabet so different from your own. Finally, you come across a building with the same number on the front as you have scrawled inside your palm. No business name on the outside, two stories tall, with every single window painted black.

This has to be it.

You zip around to the back, keeping your head on a swivel, looking around and above you for any kind of security detail. You don’t see anyone. There’s not even any security cameras on the building. Your confidence starts to wane. Reaching the back loading dock you easily pick a lock and throw the door open.

Slowly padding through the largest of the rooms, you no longer quiet your footsteps in the clearly abandoned building. You hear a phone ringing but there’s no one here to answer it. There hasn’t been anyone here in a while. Chairs lay overturned on the floor, several of the lights flicker with dying bulbs, and an acrid smell still lingers in the room.

At least 30 desks sit empty, computer monitors on every one but all of the CPUs yanked away, their cords still stretched out on the floor. A large garbage bin in the middle of the room, filled with what was once the computers, is the source of the smell and also a large black ring burned into the floor below and ceiling above.

Following a scant trail of papers left on the floor, you’re led to an office at the back corner. The still-ringing phone sits on an empty desk with nothing else but a single piece of paper. Scrawled on the sheet are the words answer me. This is a new game.

You pick up the phone. Silence. You say nothing. Then you hear several clicks.

“Hey sweetheart, ya there?”

Fucking Max, of course. You say nothing. You’re not giving him the satisfaction-

“S’okay, ya don’t have to answer me. I already know it’s you.”

You grind your teeth.

“Good job catchin’ up with our little operation there in Moscow. Unfortunately you’re about three weeks too late.” You can almost hear his fake pout. “Also, the Boss? He was never even there so I’m not sure where you’re getting your information from. I’d be questioning the allegiance of my sources if I were you, cuz they seem a little unreliable.”

You shake your head. Smug asshole.

“Anyways sweetheart, I won’t keep ya. I just thought it’d been a while since we last talked so I wanted to see how you were doin’. I guess you could say I missed ya.”

“I’m doing fucking great considering you tried to have your idiot henchmen drown me,” you bite. You can’t help yourself. You’re pissed off at him and proud of yourself for surviving at the same time. You want to rub it in his face. He failed. He wants to rub your failure in your face? Fine. Two can play that game. “Too bad I’m a better swimmer than you thought, huh?”

“You’re absolutely right sweetie. It was such a disappointment to find out you survived that night, instead of dyin’ in that deep water that I told my idiot henchmen to throw ya in. It’s not like I could’ve known what a strong swimmer ya were. How could I know that?”

Your brows knit. There’s no way.

“I obviously would have no way of knowin’ that ya won a state championship two years in a row on your high school’s swim team.”

Your jaw drops open.

He says your name. Your heart stops. He never calls you by your fucking name. 

“Stay outta trouble.” The line goes dead. 

You jump as the remaining lights turn off, shrouding you in complete darkness.

It’s been nearly a year since your not-so-near miss in Moscow. Your uncle, scared for your safety, convinced you to come back home and take a short break. You’d planned to stay for a month and when it turned into two and then three, he didn’t comment on it. Although once you hit the six month mark, he started calling you his roommate, no matter how much you rolled your eyes.

You’d never taken this amount of time “off” your hunts before. Sure, you were still scouring message boards and chasing down leads but you were doing it all from a computer chair. You used to actually chase them down, using planes, trains, or automobiles. You didn’t mean to sit still this long, it wasn’t in your nature, but you keep hearing Max’s words buzzing in your ear.

Stay outta trouble.

Your dreams have lessened in frequency since Moscow, though not in intensity. He still has the same effect on you, waking up with your body screaming for his touch. Now the dreams aren’t just of the night in California, the dreams have evolved. You thought that you’d welcome a change, any change, to the monotony. But since the dreams are basically just sex-dreams now, you’re slightly annoyed by them.

You’re not really as annoyed as you pretend to be, but it is disturbing that you’re fantasizing about an undead monster; not that it’s interfering with your non-existent social life. You actually downloaded a dating app and went on a few dates. You’re a quirky gal, so that’s what you attract. And you don’t mind it. But even peculiar guys get weirded-out when you try to explain what you do for a living. Several first dates, zero second dates.

So you spend a lot of time alone, or with your Uncle Oz, who is terrible company - sitting in his living room recliner in a stained shirt, eating TV dinners and watching reruns of NCIS. He tells you to get a real job - as if you were even good at anything else. He tells you to go out and make friends - as if anyone would understand you. He tells you that the clawing ache you feel deep inside ‘gets better’ with time.

You don’t believe him. You know he still feels it just as strongly as he always did. It’s just that he’s scared now, and the paralyzing grip of that fear is stronger than the pang of vacancy that sits deep in his core. Sometimes you think you can feel the fear too, prickling at the edges. It feels like icy-cold fingers reaching around the edges of your mind and body, freezing your thoughts, holding you down.

Every day you stay up until 3, sometimes 4 in the morning, fighting against that fear. You practice your Romanian, earning little rewards in your DuoLingo app. You message back and forth with other hunters, working together designing new weapons in the fight against these monsters. You hack into local cameras around the world, using every tool at your disposal to search for that face in the dark. Max. No, wait. Zeno. You’re hunting Zeno. 

It's a sunny late-September morning, just after noon, when you’re awoken by a strange ringtone. You sit up in bed, fumbling to reach your cell phone only to find it tucked under your pillow in silence. The ringing continues. What the-? A memory springs to your mind - of your uncle trying to throw his old phone in the trash but you grabbing it instead - just in case. 

You throw open the bottom drawer of your nightstand and grab the phone just as it stops ringing. You consider calling the number back but the low battery warning is flashing and you don’t remember where the old charger for this thing is at the moment. You wait a moment longer and when the voicemail notification flashes, you dial in to listen.

What you hear is a choppy message left with a bad connection. The person speaking has a thick accent but you’re sure you hear them say the name that makes your blood run cold - Zeno. You run out to the living room and make your uncle listen to the message no less than nine times before he can tell you anything about it.

He’s pretty sure it’s an old contact of his named Mo, who used to live in Cairo. 

Less than 36 hours later you find yourself in a bustling area just outside of Cairo. Tired from the lack of sleep in the tiny budget airline seats, you give the cab driver the wrong address. This is how you find yourself pushing your suitcase down the street, fumbling with your phone to get to your uncle’s emails. 

Unable to reach Mo back and not wanting to lose any time on the lead, you got on the next flight that would eventually land you in Egypt. Concerned with your safety, Oz had promised to stay on the case from back home and update you. Unwilling to wait until you get to the hotel, you punch away at the phone screen, trying to connect to a local mobile network.

You blame your exhaustion for the way you don’t even hear the motorbike riding along the sidewalk behind you. Three people jump off it, point a gun at you, and grab all of your stuff. They snatch your luggage, your phone, they even take your airplane pillow. They’ve piled back on the bike and ridden away before you even process what just happened.

You blink slowly and before you can begin to panic, you remember the emergency cash you keep stuffed in your pockets. You are too exhausted to think or do anything right now. Tomorrow you can get a new phone, you can call your uncle and get money wired, you can continue on with your chase. Tonight, you just need to check into your hotel.

Not surprisingly, you have a fitful dream, but what does surprise you is the subject of the dream. You’re not being tossed around in cheap economy seating. You’re not being mugged at gun-point by strangers in the night. Hell, you’re not even being seduced by a disarmingly attractive vampire in a three-piece-suit. 

You’re being chased. Like the kind of dream-chase where you run endlessly but make it nowhere. He bears down on you and you scream the kind of dream-scream, where your mouth is wide open but no sound comes out. He grabs you with his bony hands and you throw the kind of dream-punch where it feels like you’re fighting underwater. There is no escape.

You can’t see the face of the creature running you down in the dark, but you already know who it is. You would know him anywhere, anytime, even with your eyes closed. It’s Zeno. You know because even though your dream-legs are running away as fast as they can carry you, everything else in your body is screaming to turn and run the other way, to run towards him.

Max steps off the private plane onto the tarmac and almost immediately plops into the waiting SUV. It wasn’t a long flight but he’s not in a great mood, even the in-flight-meal - he thinks her name was Yulia - didn’t lift his spirits. He isn’t used to being summoned in the middle of the night like this by his boss, especially when everything has been going so well. 

The boss had been traveling around the Mediterranean, visiting some of his old stomping grounds, while Max had set up their new operation in the Greek Isles. Beautiful country with a rich history, and his office had a killer view - even at night. He was almost glad you blew up their spot in San Francisco. All was going according to plan, every i was dotted and every t crossed.

But now the boss was calling him to Egypt for an emergency meeting. It’s probably some kind of promotion, also known as ‘more work’. Max was one of the younger members of Zeno’s family but his keen nose for business and his shrewd sensibilities quickly made him a favorite. Even before you were killing off his competition, he was rising quickly within the ranks.

He checks his phone again for the hundredth time in the last day and a half. He’s been tracking you for the last 16 months, ever since that night in California. For the last year he’s watched you barely leave a five-block radius… until yesterday, when you traveled to your local airport. He’s been watching but hasn’t seen your signal pop back up since.

Where the fuck are you? 

He knows you haven’t found where he is, none of your internet searches have pointed you anywhere near his trail. He’s also positive that you don’t have the faintest clue where the boss is. Hell, until he was beckoned by private jet several hours ago, Max wasn’t even sure exactly where he was. Max has worked hard to make sure he’s ten steps ahead of you. It makes it easier this way. Easier to keep the boss happy. Easier to keep you safe. 

Max is led inside an old, abandoned temple, lit only by the near-full moon streaming in through the unglazed windows. The structure was built into the side of a rock formation that clearly wasn’t as close to the river as it is now. Now, water weeps from the rocks that form the walls, dripping down and creating undulating rivers across the uneven floor. 

Zeno stands in the center of the room, tall and gaunt, bent slightly over an altar.

The Boss starts talking, Max assumes to him, about ‘purpose’. They’ve had conversations like this before. When Max isn’t meeting the boss’ expectations, this is how he frames it. The shuddersome creature believes that all of his creations - the vampires he’s turned - are a reflection of him. Therefore, they must all be willing to ‘achieve greatness at any cost.’ 

He turns around and steps towards Max, cradling a figure in his arms covered by a black shroud. Max looks down at it, waiting for the boss to speak. When he says nothing, Max decides to ask.

“What’s this?”

“This is to remind you of your purpose,” the boss whispers, his voice a rasp, barely audible in the empty, echoing chamber.

“I already ate on the plane.”

“This isn’t for you, this is for me. I have plans.” His voice carries the final consonant like a hiss.

Whenever Zeno has plans, that means Max has more work. As if he doesn’t have enough work to do already, running the boss’s entire empire practically by himself. The ancient monster has lofty expectations, but is completely uninterested in the day-to-day mundanity of maintaining a global undead supremacy.

“What do you need, boss?”

“Complete the turn,” his voice scratches against Max’s eardrums, “make her your own.” 

Max has turned vampires before, always at the behest of Zeno. He doesn’t relish doing it, nor is he consumed by the same desire his boss has to build up an army of loyal followers. He reaches over and pulls down on the shroud, revealing the pale face beneath.

Your face.

Max tries not to react but he’s sure his pupils dilate, betraying him.

“What’s this?” Max asks again, attempting but failing an even-toned voice.

“You don’t recognize her?” Zeno asks, already knowing the answer.

“I recognize her.”

Of course he recognizes you. Your face, your smell, even the twitch of your lips as you sleep is familiar to him. You occupy his thoughts constantly, and have for quite a while.

“You told me you took care of her.”

“I did.” Max looks him in his cloudy, lifeless eyes.

“I understand ‘taking care of someone’ to mean that they’ve been e-lim-in-at-ed,” Zeno slowly draws out the last word.

“It wasn’t... I had her under control,” Max hates that he even has to explain himself right now. It’s all been handled.

“had?”

“Well…. I’m not sure what she’s doing here.” He looks down at your face, watching you take shallow breaths. “I thought-”

“I called her here. It was so easy,” the fiend lowers his face to yours, running his pointed nose along your cheek. Max winces. “She wants to be here with me. She craves it.”

Max tries not to shudder at his words. He hates the thought of you being beholden to Zeno in any way. He had been trying so hard to keep you out of his clutches. In the silence he hears a dripping noise, closer than the drips coming down the walls. He looks down at his feet and notices a pool of dark liquid, rivulets of water running through it.

He pulls at the dark shroud and it falls off your legs, revealing a steady stream of blood dripping down your inner calf. He continues to pull away the fabric and sees the white shift you wear stained deep red at the source of the blood. What appears to be a bite wound, barely concealed by the thin material, sits high on the inside of your thigh.

Max has to tamp down the rage inside him about to boil over. Zeno has taken it upon himself to drain you of blood in preparation to turn you and he did it by putting his mouth where only a lover’s mouth should go. He had no fucking right to touch you like that. He has no fucking right to touch you at all.

“I think she’s your weakness, Max,” the elder one scoffs.

“She’s nothing-”

“Don’t lie,” Zeno growls. “Don’t lie to me, boy.”

Max grits his teeth, unable to respond. 

“Turn her. Turn her and then she’ll actually be under your control. And then we’ll have some real fun.” The moonlight glints off the demon’s teeth and Max meets his dead eyes once again and he knows. He knows that the boss wants to make you immortal so he can hurt you over and over until the end of time. So he can punish you. So he can order Max to hurt you. So he can punish you both.

He knows he has no other choice.

You remember falling asleep atop the crisp sheets of your hotel bed, a warm breeze gently blowing through the open window. The next thing you remember is waking up with a splitting headache. A grating noise in your ears, starting out quiet but getting louder and louder - like nails dragging on a chalkboard - scraping around the inside of your skull.

The noise slowly forms itself into a voice, whistling like a tea kettle, stabbing the backs of your eyeballs. The voice enters your ears like the hissing of a snake, all tongue and teeth, unable to comprehend the words. You feel ice-cold pressure on your legs, then a sharp pain inside your thigh. You try to scream from the hurt but there isn’t enough air in your lungs to cry out. 

You think you’re dreaming of Max again, but it’s not how it usually is. Pain creeps up your spine. You smell rot, wet earth, and copper. You feel shame. A warm flush burns your cheeks, the tips of your ears, down your neck to your chest. You don’t want to be thinking of him like this, not now, not as the ache in your head increases, not as your leg throbs. Wait, why is Max hurting you like this? He’d never do this. Why is he doing this?

You hear slurping noises and finally understand the word ‘sleep’ in your ear, and so you fall back asleep.

You’ve never been more tired in your life. You’re so tired that no matter what you do, you can’t wake up. You hear Max speaking now and smell warm caramel sauce. He’s in your dream again, but you can barely understand his words over the pounding in your head. A noise cuts through the constant buzz in your ears, a piercing howl, a throaty laugh that claps repeatedly against your eardrums.

Suddenly, an inhuman shriek rings out so loudly that you’re sure your ears are going to bleed, and then you’re falling. Falling, falling, falling into an endless pit of black. You’re never going to land, you’re never going to know peace, you’re never going to survive this. A wave of warmth splashes over you and suddenly you’re on solid ground. You’ve never felt so good in your entire life. You drift back into a hazy unconsciousness.

You awake when you hear all of the voices, it must be six or seven people, all shouting over each other, harried and barking. The voices clash like cymbals in your brain but you hear one voice distinctly above the others. Max. You know you hear Max. You hear him say don’t let her die, his voice almost melodic in comparison to the rest.

You think you open your eyes but it can’t be real because everything is red. Everything. 

The smell of warm apple crumble fills your senses, and you’re pretty sure that’s what wakes you up. Not the incessant beeping of multiple hospital machines, or alarms blaring from speakers above you, or the yelling of the medical staff in a language you don’t understand. No, it’s the apple, brown sugar, and butter that invades your nose, your mouth, your brain. 

You feel the warmth of it on your face, hot out of the oven. You’re pretty sure you can even taste it. Eventually you gather the strength to open your eyes and you see Max Phillips. You watch him prick his fingertip with his fang, gathering a drop of blood on his finger and moving it underneath your hospital gown. His eyes move to your face and he’s surprised to find you awake.

“Sorry, I-” he starts, and retracts his hand slightly. “This is just-”

His hand continues up the thin garment and you gasp when he smears the blood on his fingertip over a very sore spot on your leg. It’s high inside your thigh and you can’t remember how it got there. You’d be more embarrassed or shocked that Max was putting his hand there if it didn’t hurt so bad and then almost immediately feel so much better.

He then brings his hand up to your face. You see his fingertip still leaking a bit of blood.

“Open your mouth,” he orders, his words a song in your head.

You know he’s using his hypnotic vampire powers on you, but you know they don’t work. By now he should also know they don’t work. Whatever you are, whatever this thing is that you carry in your blood, vampire powers don’t work on you. Wait, why the fuck is your tongue sticking out of your open mouth? What is happening? Why is your body obeying him?

He slowly lowers his finger to your tongue, dabbing the remaining drop of blood on it.

“Swallow.”

You do. You don’t understand why, but you follow his command. 

“Sleep,” he whispers, his hot-cider-scented breath wafting over you. 

Your body obeys him again and falls into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next time you opened up your eyes you were back in your own bed. Your uncle said you'd been knocked out for the better part of a week but you felt like a million bucks when you woke up. It's finally over, he’d said. Finally over. You asked him what he meant and he said Don't you feel that? Feel what? You didn't feel anything. Exactly, he said. Don't feel anything. 

Gone was the constant hunger, gone was the clawing emptiness, gone was the magnetic pull towards a minion of death. 

Zeno was dead. That much you knew. You could feel it. Oz could feel it. How, why, or by whose hand he had no idea. He just knew that he woke up two days after you’d left for Cairo and felt the best he'd ever felt in his life. You were inexplicably back in your bed, and all his fears were miraculously gone. 

You saw Oz laughing for the first time in years. He’d even felt up to planning a vacation to make up for lost time, though you declined to join him. You knew he was somewhere in Peru according to his latest email. You stayed home, trying to adjust to your new life as well, but there were still questions in your mind that seemed to be holding you back. Maybe just one question.

Where was Max Phillips?

You get your answer two nights later when you hear a knock at your front door, finding him standing in his trademark three-piece-suit on your front steps. He smiles at you before sniffing the air. He skips over the salutations and small talk.

“Where’s your uncle, sweetheart?”

“He’s back in his-”

“No, he’s not,” Max interrupts with a sly smile. You roll your eyes.

“Somewhere along the Amazon.”

“There’s the truth,” he looks across your face, taking you in for a moment. “You look…..” he trails off, then brings one hand up in sweeping motion, wafting the scent of butterscotch towards you. With a toothy grin he asks, “you gonna invite me in?”

Several hours later you’re standing in your kitchen, cheeks warm from drink and sore from laughter, pouring the last drops of your second bottle of wine into both of your glasses. He’d told you what he’s been up to for the last month - traveling the world he said. You lied and told him you’d been looking into doing the same.

You tell more lies when he asks about how your job hunt is going (good, just waiting on some call backs), if you’ve been making any new friends (meeting people every day), and how you’ve been feeling (totally great and not sad at all). You even think he bought the fake new hobby you made up (Knitting? Is that what you’d said?).

“You look well,” he huffs out, finally finishing the thought he started on your doorstep.

“You too,” is your awkward response as you turn, setting the bottle down on the counter behind you, hoping he doesn’t notice you cringe.

“Well, I always look this good,” he quips, never humble, “but you were in pretty rough shape last time I saw you.”

Memories that you had subconsciously pushed down come flooding back into your mind. Max was there. He was in Cairo. He saved you. What had he saved you from? You couldn’t really remember. You hadn’t been able to remember for weeks, the fuzzy images retreating further and further from your grasp with each passing day.

“You were there,” it’s not a question. You remember that much.

“I’m always there,” he says immediately.

“You saved me…”

“I always save you.

“You saved me from him, didn’t you?” A beat finally passes without an answer. Barely a whisper, “You killed him.”

“You remember that?” He tries to hide his smile.

“I remember your voice. I remember your smell,” you admit.

“My smell? What do I smell like?”

“You don’t know?”

“It’s different for everybody. What do I smell like to you, sweetheart?” he leans forward and tucks his face into your neck, inhaling the heat coming off of you as his own scent invades your nose. Pumpkin pie, mulled wine, and line-dried flannel.

“You smell like fuckin’ autumn,” you manage to get out before he catches your lips with his own.

He grabs your face in both hands and continues kissing you as he walks you backwards down the hall towards your bedroom. How does he know where your bedroom is? His tongue licks over your bottom lip and you feel lightheaded. All thought processes are interrupted when - unhappy with your slow pace - he picks you up and carries you bridal-style into your bedroom.

Tossing you on your bed, he undresses with inhuman speed, completely naked before you’ve even stopped bouncing on the springs. He prowls towards you, crawling on the bed overtop you, his legs slotting between yours, his arms caging your shoulders on either side.

“Why did you choose me over him?” Your words are barely audible to you over your own pounding heartbeat. He dips his head so his lips brush against the shell of your ear. You smell his sweet honeyed breath and hear him sigh your name.

“I always chose you,” he kisses a path along the line of your jaw until he reaches your chin, placing a long kiss on your lips. “And you know why.”

Your eyes fall closed as he continues his trail of kisses down your body, gently removing your clothing as he goes. Max firmly pinches one nipple until it is tight and stinging, then he brings his mouth over it to draw soft circles with the tip of his tongue, soothing the pebbled flesh. He sucks at the sensitive peaks, laving his tongue along the curve of your breasts and mouthing the underside, dividing his attention equally between them.

Unable to take much more of his torment, you grab his hair with both hands and moan his name. Understanding your message, he moves down your body, divesting you of the rest of your clothing. You can’t stop the shiver that shoots up your spine when you look down and see him, fangs bared, between your thighs.

“Don’t be scared, sweetheart,” he coos, placing kisses on the soft places inside your legs.

“I’m not.”

“That’s my good girl,” he hums.

His fingers spread you open as his flat tongue licks you with delicate strokes. He starts small but as you begin to moan and writhe underneath him he is soon reaching his tongue from your asshole to your clit, lapping at your arousal in between. When you grab at his hair again and your cries become insistent, he doubles down on his efforts on your nub. 

Max has you seeing stars only minutes after entering the room. Before you can feel any kind of embarrassment for how easy it was for him to wind you up, he’s latched his mouth back on to you. Still sensitive from your climax, he’s careful to apply only gentle pressure to your core. Easily pushing a finger into your entrance, slick with your release, he begins to massage upward.

If the first orgasm came quickly, then the second one could be called instantaneous. You’re hoarsely crying out his name as it washes over you, tears spilling out of your clenched shut eyes and running down your face. You watch as Max pushes the finger that was inside your cunt into his wet mouth, wrapping his tongue around it for an especially lewd view.

Max Max Max. You repeat his name over and over. 

“Max, please.”

“Please what, baby?” his voice is back at your ear

“You’ve been torturing me for so long, please just fuck me already,” you notice how whiny your own voice sounds but you can’t help it.

“We haven’t even been in this room for ten minutes and I’ve made you come twice, how exactly am I torturin’ you, hmm?” As if he doesn’t know.

“The dreams Max, the dreams.”

“You’ve been dreamin’ about me angel?” He drags his lips down your neck and across your collarbone, moving his face back up to your other ear.

“You know I have, you put a spell on me.” You feel him chuckle in your ear.

“That’s not a spell. That’s just called you being in fuckin’ love with me.”

“No I-” 

You’re cut off by his mouth on your lips again. You watch him kiss you, his eyes closed, his fangs retracted, gentle at first and then growing more needy. You close your eyes too and lose yourself in the movements of his mouth, his tongue, the taste of you, the taste of him. Your hands roam his body, and it hits you suddenly… maybe he’s right. He pulls back to look at you.

“I love you too,” he responds to words you didn’t say.

You feel him then, pressing hard against your entrance and you spread your legs to open up for him. He pushes forward and finally, finally, begins to ease himself inside of you. You gasp, looking into his eyes as he stutters his hips, moving into you inch by inch. You think you must sound pitiful, but you can’t do anything about the breathy moans that leave your mouth now. You’ve been thinking about this moment for so long and now it’s happening, and it feels better than you ever imagined it could.

Your arms are wrapped around him, pulling him tight tight tight against you and you can’t stop kissing him. He seems more than happy to oblige as his mouth meets yours over and over. You hear him say baby, say sweetheart, say your name. You hear him tell you he loves you, breathing it into your mouth repeatedly. He pulls your body up off the bed a bit, holding you tight in his arms as the tempo of his hip thrusts increases.

Your head lolls back now, unable to keep kissing him while you groan louder and louder, telling him that you’ve dreamed of this, that he feels so good, that you need him. Spurred on by your praise, he snaps his hips into yours harder and faster, moving his body away enough to reach his hand between you. He rubs his thumb up and down over your hooded bud and brings you to another explosive peak in his embrace. 

You spend the rest of the night taking your time with each other, bringing each other to orgasm after orgasm, so many that you lose count. It becomes clear to you that Max has been just as enamored with you as you have been with him. All of his bravado and even his superhuman abilities fall by the wayside when you take him into your mouth and tell him how much you love him, how much you love his dick.

In the quiet moments of recovery you take deep breaths, talk about your shared past, and even make some plans for a future that includes each other. At one point your curiosity gets the better of you, as you recall several moments over the years.

“What do I smell like to you?” You ask as your head rests on his chest. He leans his face down and buries it in the crown of your head, sniffing you, and placing a kiss there before he pulls away.

“You smell like home, sweetheart.

🖤

(that got so sappy at the end I'm sorry it turned into a vampire love story)

[natashaslesbian]

Hi, if you’re doing quest, can you do one with Kate and Yelena and were their kid (4 or 5 years old)and we get into a bunch of mischief Kate gets mad a little

Little Devil

Word Count: 741

Parings: (Mommy!Kate x Kid!Reader) (Mama!Yelena x Kid!Reader)

————

“Ooooo” you whispered as you sneaked up to a new door “this oom sem fun!” You mumbled as you reached for the handle, pulling down gently to open the door. Your eyes lit up at the sight of a new place to explore and you were immediately drawn to the very fluffy looking couch in the corner.

“Y/n” Kate called out into the communal living area though no one called back. She checked the kitchen, your playroom and bedroom and then hers and Yelena’s bedroom “y/n” she called into the silence again “Yelena” she tried. “Yeah sweetheart” the blonde said as she rounded the corner with a very damp Fanny. “Where is y/n?” Kate asked “she’s in her playroom” Yelena said “no she’s not” Kate answered “she’s not?” Yelena asked “no!” Kate said, starting to feel a little frustrated at her wife.

You started with small bounces on the soft couch, just to test the waters. Soon you were jumping almost as high as the ceiling! You were laughing so loud, it was a miracle no one had heard you. When you began to grow tired you sat down with mr bunny and ran your hands across the the soft blanket, now crumpled beneath you “dis so fun!” You said, slightly out of breath.

“Kate calm down” Yelena said to her wife as she followed behind her down the long corridor “she can’t have gone far” the blonde was far to used the wrath of her archer lover, having lost you on more than one occasion (well technically you ran away from her) “oh give me a break Yelena!” Kate said “this is up there with the time you lost her at the zoo and found her with the pandas!” Yelena froze at the memory, slightly humoured by it but not wanting to piss off Kate anymore.

Meanwhile, you had found something more interesting than the bouncy couch. A large cabinet stood next to the door and you couldn’t stop your little inquisitive mind from wanting to take a look “what did?” You said as you pulled on the highest handle you could reach. Your little muscles fought so hard to find this hidden treasure, you simply had to know what was inside. You pulled and pulled until something started to shift “I’m so stong!” You beamed as you continued to pull on the handle.

Kate was getting frantic by now, searching all your common hiding places for a game of hide and seek “y/n come out!” Yelena called “mommy and mama are worried now” she was starting to panic too. The pair continued down the many halls when a loud crash stopped them abruptly in their tracks “did that come from my office?” Kate said through an almost whisper.

“Uh oh” you said as you stood back and looked upon the mass of paperwork spread out onto the floor. The door swung open and a ball of fur came running towards you “Fanny!” You exclaimed, giving the pooch a massive squeeze “I hop mommy n mama don fine out” you whispered to the dog, who gave you a low woof in response. “Too late little monkey” a voice said from behind you. Spinning around quickly you ended up facing a very angry Kate “mommy” you said “it was Fanny!” You used your puppy eyes in hopes that the story would be convincing “I don’t think so baby” Kate said “Fanny has been with me and mama” her scolding eyes looked down at you.

“I’m sowry” you mumbled “didn’t meen to” Kate’s anger began to settle and Yelena came straight to your side “it’s alright baby we forgive you, don’t we mommy?” She said to you and her partner. Kate came to settle down next to the both of you “of course we do, but y/n you know you’re not to go wondering off without a big person” she said “but I couldn’t find mama!” You cried “oh I know sweetheart” Kate said as she scooped you up in her arms “that’s why mamas gonna stay here and clean all this mess up” she continued as she tickled your tummy “what!” Said Yelena “maybe now you’ll learn not to let our little devil go wondering off and end up in places she’s not supposed to be, like with pandas” Kate said as she carried a giggling you out of the office “hey!” Yelena shouted back “at least they were friendly pandas!”

————

[dootznbootz]

I know we love our morally gray characters. But the internet kinda ruined Circe for me.

Let me explain.

I remember I actually used to really like Circe's character when I first read the Odyssey last year. I loved her as a "helpful antagonist type" character.

But what ruined her character for me was everybody calling her a "girlboss" or just simping for her in a way? But they completely disregard the fact she technically raped a man. (But no one cares about that because male SA victims never get taken seriously, especially in media smh)

Now, I can never experience Circe as the same character because all I see is a terrible person being glorified because of her gender. And then people say double standards don't exist!

Which I hate cause she's a genuinely cool character. (From a writing standpoint)

Circe isn't a bad character let me be clear (in the Odyssey anyway. Cough cough Madeline Mil-) But I just hate how people romanticize her completely ignoring her terrible actions. And to think it's all just because she's a "hot badass female".

And this isn't just about Odysseus either, there's literally a myth where she tries to seduce a man, but when he remains faithful she turns him into a woodpecker-

People can like her CHARACTER, however, they should still acknowledge her bad actions too and hold her accountable. If we can all agree it's shitty what Zeus did to a bunch of women, we can also agree what Circe did to Odysseus was shitty.

Women sexually assaulting men is just as inhumane as vice versa and we have to stop turning a blind eye about it, even if it's fictional.

And I feel like people WOULD actually hold her accountable if she was a male character. Which makes me even more angry.

Maybe this is just a me thing, but I just can't fawn over a character and call them hot when they've done something as bad as some of the things Circe has done.

So, I guess what you could get out of this-

Please stop romanticizing circe.

Hold her accountable as you would any other character.

Don't be so forgiving just because you find her attractive.

Anyways, thank you for coming to my Ted talk and sorry for ranting

honestly yeah, all of this.

I sadly had to block Circe's tag on tumblr because it pisses me off how much people glorify her and/shittalk Odysseus with it. (I trust my friends when they have Circe content lol)

I love Circe as well. She's such an interesting and fun character but how people twist her just fucks with me so much. Also to make HER a victim just for girlbossness? What's so girlboss about having such a horrific thing happen to you?

I said it in a different post but you can thirst for Circe without making fun of her victim. People will call a victim of rape a manwhore or a slut as if what happened to him was a grand ol time. It's genuinely disturbing. He is shown to have PTSD from it (in my opinion) in the Odyssey. This book is ancient and yet it captures that better than anything I've read.

Odysseus isn't necessarily a wholesome, "goody-to-shoes" man. He does a lot of awful things. That doesn't mean that the suffering he went through is suddenly negated.

Even bringing up stuff with female characters, the fact that people will water them down so then they're not "problematic" pisses me off. Women can be horrible, even good women. Penelope is my fave but she's pretty awful in many ways.

Evidence will be right in front of people and they won't care. Crying, begging to go, fear, avoidance, numbness, etc. There'll be excuses anyway. "He's a guy, he's fine with it." "Men are sex crazed, especially back then." "He didn't try hard enough." "He should be grateful."

Honestly? What saddens me the most is that I don't think people will ever really understand what happened or even WANT to because they have their own idea in their head and refuse to see it for what it is. I mean Hades game did it too. It's really sad.

Circe and him weren't fwb. They weren't lovers. What about "heart full of grim forebodings" screams love? He wanted to save his friends and go home.

[luckybitchsstuff]

your imagines are amazing! can we have some best friends to lovers with erl please 👀

I never thought you did - Erling Haaland

Pairing - Erling Haaland x Female reader

Warnings - alcohol usage and some cuss words, but that's about it. If you notice anything, please let me know.

Omg, thank you for the compliment and the request. Sorry, it took so long; I've been so busy. I hope you enjoy it, though ❤️❤️

———————————————————

Erling had been your best friend since you were in primary school; you can't remember the last time you guys did anything without each other, but over the past few years, you had developed feelings for him. You had always kept them a secret only your best friend knew about them

You thought he didn't feel the same way but what you didn't know was that he did and had since you guys were younger

Y/n POV

I was sitting at my dressing table putting on my makeup when I heard my phone ringing. I picked it up, and it was Erling calling me the nickname “Erlman.” immediately telling me who it was, I picked up to hear his soft voice

“I'll be at yours in 15 minutes are you gonna be ready or do you need another 3 hours?” he said the last bit sarcastically. “Shut up I'll be ready in 10 minutes.” I laughed slightly as I heard him closing a door obviously leaving his house or getting into his car

“Okay I'll see you in 10 minutes then.” you could hear the smile in his voice you could tell that smile from miles away. “Okay bye.” You dragged out the y before hanging up and finishing off your makeup

Just as you finished you heard your doorbell rings you made your way downstairs and opened the door before going to grab yours shoes so he could just come in himself you grabbed your shoes and walking around the corner to the door

Erling was stood reading something on his phone. “You ready to go?” He whipped his head up and kinda just stared at you for a few seconds and just nodded his head

He opened the door and held it open for you to walk out. When the door closed, you quickly locked it and headed to his car. “Whose party are we even going to? You never told me,” you asked him as he got into the car.

“Do you remember Isabella and ian?” you say thinking before it clicked. “Oh yeah the girl that fell into the fountain a few weeks ago when we went out,” you said to him turning your head to look at him. “Yeh her its there like party that they do every few years everyone is gonna be there!” you nodded and turned to put your seatbelt on before he started exiting your garage

Around 20 minutes later you arrived and by the time you got there their was a bunch of cars outside Erling found a place to park and you got out the car waiting for him to meet you on the side walk before walking towards the party together

A bit later that night

You can't remember how many shots and drinks you had, but you have had enough as you were dancing on some random dude you met 20 minutes ago. you think at least

Until suddenly, hands wrapped around your frame, dragging you towards the bathroom. At first, you got scared, but you soon realized it was Erling. He looked pissed, and because of your drunken state, you didn't even know why

He pulled you into the bathroom, locking the door. “What the fuck are you doing?” he slightly shouted at you, but even if he shouted as loud as he could, the music would have blocked out any noise. “Mhm, not what the fuck are you doing? I'm having fun if you couldn't tell!” you scoffed after slurring out your words

You headed to open the door, but he pulled you back, pinning you against the sink. Your body froze. You didn't want to look at his face, but obviously, you did. He was staring down at you. The look on his face was hard to put together, and without thinking, you did it the one thing you had been waiting years to do. You kissed him, and he kissed you back

You made out, and it soon hit you that you were making out with the boy you'd liked for years. He slowly pulled away, but your lips were nearly touching. Still, you felt sober somehow

“God, I've been waiting so long for that!” you heard him say almost in a whisper like it was only for you to hear, and it was only for you. You slowly started to realize this whole time he liked you too. You felt dumb for never noticing.

“Really?” you said lowly, waiting for his answer. “Yes, God, I'm gonna embarrass myself here if this goes wrong, but.” he took a slow breath before continuing. “Seeing you dancing like with someone, I don't know, it did something to me. I know I like you, I have for years, and I didn't know how to tell you cause I am sure you don't feel the same way, and I didn't wanna Rui—”

You cut him off, kissing him before he could continue. You didn't need to hear anymore to know what you both wanted. You pulled away, smiling at him. He still had his eyes slightly closed, and when he opened them, you had never seen him like that. His eyes had hunger and lust in them, and you were sure yours looked exactly the same

“So are you saying you feel the same cause if you don't, that's fine,” he said, slightly turning away from you? “Just shut up. Of course, I do. I'm surprised you couldn't tell!” you let out a small laugh as he turned to look at you again

“Thank God, I thought I had just lost you.” he hugged you, but it felt different. It felt like love, not just friendship. “How about we get out off here? It's quite lame anyway.” You laughed at his comment before replying

“Yeh, I'd like that as long as we can get food on the way back in. So hungry.” you rubbed your stomach a little as he laughed at you. You felt as if you were drunk again. “Yes, we can get food it's on me!” he said as he turned away from you to open the bathroom door

“It's always on you, but I'm not complaining about a free ride and free food. What else could I ask for.” you smiled at him as he opened the door and walked down the Hall to where most people where

As you were leaving, the guy you were dancing with tried to get your attention, only to be hushed by Erling wrapping his arm around your waist and leading you toward the door

You can't remember the last time you were happy like this, and all you could think about is that you hoped it would last.

[underworld-park-offical]

CRAIG: Hey homos

CRAIG: Remember when I said I made a Tumblr like

CRAIG: A year ago?

STAN: Yeah, that thing is more inactive than my Myspace

KYLE: You still use Myspace???

STAN: Uh…

STAN: Maybe…

STAN: But making fun of Craig is more fun than making fun of me

KYLE: Oh yeah

CRAIG: Wow, okay, first of all, fuck you guys

CRAIG: Second, we got an ask I think? 

KYLE: What do you mean you think ???

CRAIG: I don't know! Tumblr’s ask blog stuff usually sucks on Mobile

CRAIG: But I was thinking…

CRAIG: What if we like….

CRAIG: Use the questions on the blog to like uhm….

CRAIG: Ask the ghost or demon or whatever the questions?

CRAIG: Since we’re all probably too high to think clearly

TOLKIEN: No, that's just you and Kenny

TOLKIEN: The rest of us are fine

CRAIG: Haha lmao me when I lie

TOLKIEN: Shut up

CRAIG: Ew, Tolkien don't touch me

TOLKIEN: I am literally not, bitch

JIMMY: Am I w-w-w-witnessing a l-lovers q-q-q-q-quarrel?

TOLKIEN: God no

CRAIG: I would rather put a bunch of nails into a blender, sprinkle in some thumbtacks, blend it together with my hand STILL IN THE BLENDER, drink up the nails, thumbtacks, AND MY HAND AS I AM BLEEDING OUT, than EVER date Tolkien

CRAIG: Besides, he’s stupidly dating Clyde anyway

CLYDE: I CAN'T REACH THE BOARD I HAVE BIG FAT SAUSAGE FINGERS

KENNY: Well don't squish my HAND with your SAUSAGE FINGERS

CLYDE: I CAN'T HELP IT CLYDE: I CAN'T HELP THAT MY GENETICS CURSED ME WITH BIG FAT MANLY MAN HANDS

KENNY: You are the straightest gay person I've ever met

KENNY: I bet you watch Andrew Tate videos in the Home Depot shelves

CLYDE: HEY!!

CLYDE: …They kicked me out so I can't do that anymore

CARTMAN: I hate this so much, I hope all of you know that

KYLE: Shut up, like actually

STAN: What's the first question, Big Supreme Man?

CRAIG: ….

CRAIG: Never breathe those words in my presence ever again or I will twist you like an Auntie Anne's pretzel

STAN: Well butter my biscuit and call me Popeyes

CRAIG: Hey Kenny, Do you think you could fight a demon?

KENNY: HELL YEAH!

KENNY: In fact….

KENNY: HEY!! If there's a spirit watching, I bet I could kick your ass!

JIMMY: K-K-K-K-K-Kenny, d-d-d-don't you kn-kn-know the f-f-f-first r-rule of h-horror m-movies?

JIMMY: D-don't p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-piss off th-the ghost

KENNY: The ghost can go Sugondeez

KYLE: Sugondeez?

KENNY: SUGONDEEZ NU-

CRAIG: WAWAWAWAWAWAIT SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP

CRAIG: I wanna ask something

CRAIG: Is anyone there?

TOLKIEN: That is the most vanilla shit you could ever ask

CRAIG: Fuck you

(silence)

KYLE: Nothings happening

STAN: Lame

STAN: We did this for nothing

JIMMY: Uh, f-fellas?

JIMMY: L-l-l-l-look at th-this!

CLYDE: WAHHHHH WHAT THE FUCK WHOS DOING THAT?!

CLYDE: I'M GONNA PISS AND SHIT MYSELF!

KENNY: Does anyone wanna trade places with me?

LITERALLY EVERYONE: No

CRAIG: (pulls out phone)

KYLE: ARE YOU FILMING THIS RIGHT NOW????

CRAIG: If I'm gonna die, I wanna die famous

KYLE: UGHHHHHHHHHHH

STAN: H……..e……..y?

CRAIG: Woah, cool

CRAIG: This is gonna look so cool on my Google + account

STAN: ....Excuse me??

KYLE: Google + ?????

STAN: Who in their right mind still uses Google + ????

CRAIG: Me, your super totally cool and awesome famous friend who you should stop bullying

CRAIG: Anyways, what's up Ghost? Say hi to my fans

CRAIG: .....This is gonna get me so much clout

LITERALLY EVERYONE: (ANNOYED GROAN)

(EDITS BY @pissblanket)

[lurkingshan]

You know I’m loopy, so here goes: top 5 things that were bad about Only Friends, with a bonus of one good thing that stood out.

Oh I see you decided to work out your travel frustrations by choosing violence. I approve and will absolutely play along. Only Friends lovers (is that still a thing?) look away, I am not gonna be nice!

The Casting

This show should not have been cast with branded pairs, full stop, and in fact the original intention was that it wouldn't be. But as a result of the pairs being added, the writing became hamstrung by the need to protect their BGP and deliver fanservice instead of a good story. It sucked all the life out of the show.

That Theme Song

Terrible. Y'all stans can lie to yourselves if you want but I know good music and that was absolutely not it. And don't even get me started on them letting First sing in this show, my ears may never recover.

Confusion in the Writers Room

It was often evident that the different writers on this show did not share the same interpretation of the characters, which resulted in a lot of confused characterization and wobbly story arcs. Even before the finale pissed everyone off, these cracks had been showing for weeks, and only one of the three main arcs was actually holding together (until the finale blew that one too), with some of the characters feeling like completely different people from week to week. Part of the reason we had so much back and forth in the discourse about how to interpret the characters is because the show itself did not have a clear handle on most of them.

The Politics

SIGH. I have already written about this a bunch so I will not belabor the point, but the fact that this show turned out to be such a sex shaming, monogamy pushing, weirdly prudish and anti-queer story is one of the biggest disappointments of the year, and really cooled my trust in Jojo's future projects.

A Truly Egregious Waste of Jennie Panhan

Why would you put her in this show only to give her so little to do?? Yo was a hell of a lot more interesting than whatever that was they did with Boeing, and I wish they'd given her better material.

BONUS: One Good Thing

It was really fun to have a big ensemble show like this with different characters and relationships for people to latch onto, and the fandom discourse was mostly a fantastic time. I wish the show had lived up to the hype so it didn't have to end on a sour note, but I still had a lot of fun for the three months it was airing.

Oh and of course, their ending not withstanding, we'll always have Paris.

Ask my top 5 anything in bl

[honoviadakai]

What team Urameshi looks for in a partner 💚💙💜🖤

Yusuke:

So thankfully we already have a blueprint of what he likes

I present to you ✨Keiko Yukimura! ✨

This is the gold standard of what this man wants in his partner

He’s more female leaning buuuut I do get the vibe he’d be open to attempting to date men

He wants someone who isn’t afraid put him in his place when he’s getting out of hand

Someone that could put the fear of god in him with just one look

This dude fights demons on the reg, but the thing that will always scare the piss outta him is the partner he loves with all his soul being legit pissed at him

He also wants someone who’s smarter than him

He knows he’s an idiot, one of them has to be the smart one cuz it sure as hell ain’t this knucklehead 🥴

He won’t appreciate someone who’s controlling so please just let him take that long trip to demon world

He absolutely understands that sometimes asking for his partner to wait over 1 years for him to return is asking so much of a person’s patience but he will always appreciate and love his partner more for dealing with his shit

Once he does stay in one place, all he asks is that they just live life to the fullest everyday for the rest of their lives

Kuwabara:

Ok so like Yusuke, we also have a blueprint for Kuwabara!

✨the lovely Yukina✨

This is the type of person he wants as a lover

He wants someone who’s sweet & caring

Literally his bare minimum is that the person is capable of respect and empathy and has a kind enough soul to help when they can

He understands that they can’t help everyone in all situations

but it’s the drive to want to help everyone that he finds so attractive

He leans more towards preferring women but I have a feeling he’s experiment in his 20s

I don’t think he’d expect/want a combative partner

He’s more than capable of fighting to protect his lover so he’d rather they not fight, or at least not often

Deep down he’s scared to lose his lover because he wasn’t there for them so don’t think it’s because he thinks they’re weak

He absolutely doesn’t think his partner is weak! Ever!

Even if his partner is a healer, he recognizes the strength of heart to stay in a scary situation with a bunch of wounded people around them when they could run and no one would blame them for doing so

If anything he thinks he’s the weak one but wants to prove himself wrong by keeping his partner safe

He just wants that wholesome married life with a lover that loves him just as much as he loves them 😭🙏

Kurama:

Ok

So fox boy here is kinda tricky

Like in ever sense possible

Because he’s very much someone who feels very lax on preferences

Male or female?

Either is fine

Combatant or noncombatant

Either is fine

I think what it comes down to for him is intelligence and a strong bond

The intelligence point can go in either direction though

And I mean to the farthest extreme

Of course he’d like someone just as or even more intelligent than him

He likes having long adult conversations and let’s be honest…it’s not coming from his teammates 🤣

He like puzzles so having to work out how his partner thinks in his big foxy brain is very fun and enriching for him

But he also likes having conversations with people who are…we’ll use the word naive to be polite

Their world view is so innocent and pure and they’re usually very blunt so he’s just always gonna know what they’re thinking, it’s kinda refreshing tbh

What matters at the end of the day is that they’re loyal

He’s betrayed people before and people have betrayed him before

He knows what it’s like to be on both sides and he doesn’t want to cause his partner that kind of pain or be at the receiving end of that pain

Another big one for him is they absolutely, positively, must get along with his mom

And she’s gotta like them back

If they get him mom’s blessing, it’s basically a sealed deal for him

As far as he’s concerned, that’s the day they got married 🤣

If they want him to pull the ring out immediately, they gotta accept that he’s a demon

The moment he tells them about his past as Yoko and they take it super well

✨💍 ✨

Ngl, Yoko might come out to pounce them so fair warning

Also he’s a bit of a cheeky bastard who likes to tease and poke fun at people he’s comfortable with

His partner is no exception to this so he’s like them to have a sense of humor and not take life too seriously

Hiei:

Ooooh this guy

Oh this emotionally stunted gremlin man

Ok so first of all, he has no gender preference

He does not care what’s between your legs, he wants someone strong

Or at least someone capable of protecting themselves in a fight and can spar with him

Imma let y’all know rn that this is not a set rule

If all you have is an unbreakable will and a heart of gold, you have a shot

He will swear up and down that he prefers demons

And to an extent it’s true cuz humans have short lifespans and he doesn’t wanna deal with that

Show him genuine kindness and watch this mf fold like a lawn chair

Humans are usually the ones with the biggest hearts so I guarantee his partner is either gonna be a very kind human or a very kind demon

The bottom line is they just have to show genuine kindness and affection

It’s gonna freak him out but once he gets use to it, he ain’t ever letting go

He’ll cut his tongue out before he says it out loud but he kinda prefers dense, naive people

It’s pretty much the same reason as Kurama’s tbh

He likes blunt people and, in his experience…idiots don’t have filters and are very honest 🤣

He never has to read the mind of someone like that or even consider doubting them cuz they’ll just say what they mean and mean what they say

He kinda respects that

It’s also kinda hot to him

Hiei is moron-sexual confirmed 😂

He does like smart people but his best friend is Kurama…he’s kinda over Kurama’s bs and wouldn’t know how to handle 2 people like him in close proximity

Now if he manages to find a partner that’s a naive sweetheart but has an insane battle IQ

He might actually just pass away

That’s hot to him

They also shouldn’t be pushovers

If he’s being an asshat and barking up a storm, he wants them to bite him to make him tone down his attitude(sometimes literally)

Maybe it’s because he’s just so over how his old “family” treated him when he was a bandit

Maybe it’s the trauma of being rejected by his mother’s people and then getting thrown off a cliff

Maybe it’s the combination of the two

But the bottom line is he needs/wants someone who will love him unconditionally and be kind even when he’s being an asshole

[lily-alphonse]

hi! for your rarepair suggestion thing, i would love to see Leah x Alex, idk i just think they’d be fun together

I’m really loving your rarepairs so far, i think the Shane and Sandy one is my favorite so far! Can’t wait to see more!!

Ottterpops I love you. I see you in my notifications all the time and this is the sweetest little ask I love knowing these things like which are people's favorites and stuff wow wow wow 10/10 ♥️♥️ reach out more often my dear I love you

BUT THIS IS INSANE

Damn. Leah and ALEX? Ughghapeuwefn 😩 What the hell would they be doing together?

Ok. Ok. Asshole Alex? Asshole Alex. Misogynist Alex. Strong and independent Leah. I'm cooking, let's go.

ITS ENEMIES TO LOVERS TIME BABYYYY 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 The crowd goes wild, they're going feral, we love to see it

They're butting heads right off the BAT. Because see, Alex is just coming back after flunking out of university. And Leah just moved to Pelican Town like a year ago. So she's had time to get settled into town, maybe even helps out Granny Evelyn sometimes since Alex was gone.

Actually, she's heard a lot of great things about Alex from his grandmother. She was looking forward to meeting him. The first time she sees him, she thinks he’s super hot. How couldn't she? He's got muscles on muscles and a little dimple in his chin to boot. 

But Alex comes home, feeling like absolute trash after his dreams have come crashing down, and there is a stranger in his house acting like she knows his family better than him. So that goes over GREAT (/s) as you can imagine.

He immediately has an attitude with her, to Evelyn's horror. She apologizes for him while he walks away and slams his door like a moody teenager. (Oh god this would be so fun to do a back and forth with them both being justified in their hatred of each other I'm salivating.)

Alex has also been raised that women should present themselves a certain way, and act a certain way, and Leah is none of that. She wears chunky hiking sandals and no makeup and has arms covered in scars from her work. She does intense manual labor and lives on her own in the woods. She even helped clean the gutters while he was gone, which is another thing on the long list of insults to Alex's manhood that he takes personally. Cleaning the gutters was HIS job.

They have a bunch of tense run-ins from there as he tries to re-establish himself. He sends her away when she comes by to check in on his grandparents. She holds her tongue then out of respect for his grandmother, but she isn’t so quiet on their next run-in. 

He comes across her in the forest on his morning jog and she’s CHOPPING WOOD of all things. Alex hasn't held an axe in years. It pisses him off. He asks her what she’s doing (with an attitude, of course) and she is all too happy to put him in his place with her axe in-hand. She shouts at him and calls him a jughead, among other names.

Alex is silent throughout. Normally he hates being yelled at, it's triggering. By coaches, by his grandpa (reminds him of his dad). But it's different coming from a girl. She’s sweating, muscled arms out, and wielding her axe. It’s… almost kind of hot? He tries to not think about it too much and stay mad, but later realizes he might actually like a girl with fire in her blood. 

He starts actually kind of looking forward to crossing paths with her, to have her attention on him no matter how negative. Throughout this time he’s also working through the grief of his failure, and figuring out a new future now that his gridball scholarship is gone. Evelyn continues to give him grief about how he treats her, and he starts to feel bad about how he came between them. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have her start coming around again, if anything just to annoy the hell out of her.

She's cold to him when he visits, which was to be expected. She looks him up and down, eyes narrowed and scrutinizing. She has some paint on her arms and fingers. It seems like she wants to yell at him but she's holding it in. 

"Granny okay?" she asks.

He nods, and can barely start saying "Yes" before she is shutting the door. "Wait!"

She opens the door and crosses her arms, taking a deep breath and unleashing her anger on him. She's defending her right to stay here, telling him he's not going to run her out, that she is stronger than he thinks and has dealt with worse than the likes of him. He is once again silent, and a little turned on, until she stops to breathe and he can get a word in.

"I came to apologize."

She deflates. "You... what?"

He shifts uncomfortably, runs a hand through his hair. "I was an ass, when you got here. I was... I was just going through shit and I think you should go back to coming over, if you want.”

She takes a deep breath to recalibrate, and takes a moment to think. She's always wanted things to be okay with Alex. It was incredibly stressful to be at odds with him, and lose the precarious belonging she had found in her new town. 

"Noted," is her eventual response.

"Noted?"

"Yes. I don't forgive you, yet."

He nods sheepishly. "Understandable, I guess."

She has him wait there in the doorway and comes back with her phone. She holds it up as if filming him.

"Alright, Jughead. Say 'I'm a dumbass and I'm sorry.'"

He sucks his teeth and shifts uncomfortably. "You're not gonna post this somewhere are you?"

"No. Promise. I won't promise I won't show anyone else though." She smiles for the first time at him, and he has to relent at that.

"I'm a dumbass and I'm sorry," he says, looking at her instead of her phone.

She laughs, and even though its at his expense it makes him smile. She has a good laugh. "And 'Leah is better at cleaning the gutters than I am'," she adds.

He gapes at her. "That is NOT true."

She shrugs and stops the video. "Remains to be seen."

"Am I forgiven now?"

"Oh, this is only the beginning," Leah grins impishly.

And thus begins their romance arc. The teasing is more playful than mean. Sometimes they end up working on something together, and it's not so bad. They help clear the driveway of snow together and end up tossing snowballs at each other. It gets dangerously cute.

Leah sees more of how Alex actually is. He's a good man who has just been through a lot. She could see herself with a man like him. But surely not him, she still has to hold her grudge after all. She's happy things are mostly back to normal though, she doesn't have to consider moving again.

Then Evelyn has a fall or something and they both rush to the hospital together. She can tell Alex is bottling everything, trying to stay strong in the hospital room. Leah takes his hand and squeezes and he doesn't shove her off. Afterwards when they get home she follows him into his room.

"Alex."

"Hm." He's avoiding looking at her and keeps swallowing. He looks to be dissociating.

She takes another chance and hugs him hard. He puts an arm around her weakly.

"Come on squeeze me like you mean it!" she scolds, muffled in his chest.

He makes a sound half chuckle, half sigh, and squeezes her back.

"Harder, I'm not made of glass," she whacks him on the head for good measure this time.

It works, because he chuckles and squeezes so hard she can't breathe. She squeezes him back as hard as she can, and they just hold each other for a moment, partially comforting and partially a contest of strength.

When he pulls back both their eyes are misty and she brings her hand to his cheek. They both kind of want to kiss and are both terrified of upsetting the other person. But as soon as Leah feels Alex leaning in even slightly, she takes full advantage and pulls him down the rest of the way to kiss.

I TOOK THIS ONE SO SERIOUSLY I SPENT SO MUCH TIME ON IT LOLLL I actually ended up rewriting it because I didn't like the first one

Send me any Stardew Valley rarepair and I will tell you how I would make them work! (Even non-marriage npcs) If youre lucky you may get a mini fic out of it. Check the list below to see if Ive already answered yours

Rarepair Masterlist

[artbyblastweave]

Gideon The Ninth Liveread, Chapter 3

In which I post about Ortus a lot! Other things too. But I’m very interested in Ortus!

First off; I like the concept of bioluminescent dust as an omnipresent source of dim light. Feels like a form of adaptive technology for a society with limited resources and a need to light a whole bunch of cavernous spaces regardless; feels like a grounded technology, something that near-future humanity could throw together in a lab given a few months.

Here we get the image of a sea of bone in the pews, “pockmarked by people.” Hammering home the image of the remaining humans as corrupt, messy hanger-ons impeding the aesthetic purity and order of death; the vibe is similarly reinforced a little later with how the Skeletons leave in an orderly formation with no regard to the ability for the humans to get around them. (How sentient are necromantic constructs like this? Do they fill the niche of artificial intelligence within the setting?) 

Ah, Ortus. I’ve many thoughts on Ortus.

So, first off, raw deal. Gideon and Harrow have their incipient Enemies-to-Lovers runaround keeping them occupied; Ortus is isolated even beyond that, and has been for his entire adult life; he doesn’t even get the dignity of being important in his status as cavalier, of being personally close with the heir to the ninth in any way, because the role of bone-porter is obviated by the fact that Harrow’s specific prodigy manifests through being able to do a lot with minimal materials.

Point two. Gideon, who has reasonable grounds to be pissed off at everyone and everything associated with the Ninth, paints Ortus as uniquely pathetic, and it’s a picture we’re collectively primed to accept unquestioningly; he’s burdened with one of the body types most acceptable to poke fun at AND easiest to end up with just through the passage of time. But crucially, Gideon is telling us the ways in which Ortus is a pathetic sad sack rather than having any of them play out in front of us. Ortus as described just sounds like.... a relatively sedentary thirty-five-year-old, reasonable given his total lack of opportunities to socialize; the main reason that Gideon and Harrow are in good shape is that they’re a pair of maniacs playing Tom-and-Jerry, but nobody on this rock is in good health besides them. That said, I don’t precisely blame Gideon for not extending the charity that I can (as I’m rather famously not an indentured servant.) 

More thoughts on Ortus (and why I’m liking this what the story is doing with this Ortus guy!) after a brief digression about....

Harrow’s parents. I will not lie, this is absolutely a situation where the sheer volume of alluded-to atrocities gleefully lobbed about the tumblrsphere primed me to assume that the big secret was something significantly more atrocious. Dollars to Donuts there's a late-game reveal that what Harrow did with her parents is so negligible in the grand scheme of things that Gideon never had any meaningful leverage at all.

That said, this is absolutely a scene that, on further examination, drips with Homestuckery; my mind went immediately to the Baby-Jade-taxidermizing-her-grandfather gag, not just in the material circumstances, but also in the syntax of how the punchline is delivered- “In Fairness, she’d been 10 at the time.” Same style of comically backloading details like that in a deadpan fashion. Actually, the entire quasi-parentless set-up of the book thus far sort of reminds me of Homestuck’s overall vibe. Fantastic. I love it. 

And Jesus. Poor Harrow. Gideon is completely incapable of extending a sympathetic thought here, quite reasonably, but good god. Poor Harrow.

Back to Ortusposting. A recurring pattern is that Muir does something funny and then immediately undercuts it in a way that makes it not actually funny if you read between the lines even a little bit. Gideon’s royally-pissed-off narration primes you to parse Ortus and his Mom as a Buster/Lucille situation, a tried-and-true one-note comedic trope, but then 500 words later that pat, clean-cut view of the dynamic collapses. You immediately realize from her reaction that Ortus’s mother knows something. She knows the things that befall Cavaliers. The histrionics that Gideon finds so entertaining are not the reaction of a woman who’s only afraid of post-partem separation. To the extent that Gideon is even right in her assessment that she “swaddles” Ortus (and Gideon’s is an outside perspective in many ways; she hasn’t been to one of these services in years, she doesn’t necessarily have the level of insight she thinks she does) she does so because she knows full well he's in line for something terrible as the only Cavalier around, probably something that got his dad killed too, and while the swaddling might not be helpful it's all she can do in the face of a shitty shitty situation.  More and more it looks like any undue closeness that Ortus and his mother have is actually just a reasonable defensive measure for two people caught in a den of religiously zealous vipers. And this culminates in...

Poor, guileless Ortus and his doting mother getting the fuck-out-of-dodge on Gideon’s meticulously-stolen shuttle. Immediately after hearing the summons, with limited deliberation. They aren’t useless, aren’t indecisive, aren’t unagentic; they aren’t patsies- and these are all things Gideon’s narration primed me to believe that they would be, so the twist hit like a truck.

Ending line- “Because I completely fucking hate you, No Offense-” is a perfect closer. Vastly ups the comedic tension of the earlier sequence, too, because thus far I perceive no reason for Harrow to hate Gideon the way Gideon hates Harrow, but she’s putting exactly as much juice into her fuckery as Gideon does. Deranged! Completely Deranged.

Anyway, tune in for future chapters, where I continuously wonder to myself when the rest of the cast are going to begin assigning any weight to the fact that being a cavalier is apparently such a fraught prospect that Ortus and his mother immediately upended their status-quo of 35 years to escape him having to do it.

[arisenreborn]

Okay slapping together a bunch of assorted Pawn Lovers Guild QOTDs for archival purposes X'D

How do your Arisen & Pawn handle alcohol?

Reverie is kind of wary of the stuff starting out, she's already got a hazy head and that just feels dangerous, but as she starts to get more comfortable she will occasionally have a drink or two with friends, but rarely more than that. Though once or twice she did go drunk ""complaining"" to Klaus about Rann (Klaus and his poor unrequited love listening to her obviously crushing on her frustratingly charming Pawn) Rann is also a bit more reluctant, he likes to keep a clear head, but he'll sip slowly on a mug or two while the Arisen takes care of their business (or social calls). It doesn't… seem… like it has much effect on him? He generally has a pretty high tolerance but There Will Be Signs. The occasional "I swear to drunk I'm not god." verbal slip-up. A sudden bout of clumsiness. Not that he's particularly austere normally, but he'll smile and laugh more openly. Might even tease a little (in a sort of big brotherly way) P much opposites of Rev and Rann, Olivia and Emrys… they do enjoy their drink. Olivia slightly more, but she's… she's so bad. Like, the girl does not know her limit (which is fairly mid-high but she will drink herself into a ditch). She's just having too much fun! Very friendly and not a mean or angry or sad drunk or anything like that generally speaking, but definitely inclined to perhaps accidentally get into more bar fights or ending the night running from the guards. More often Emrys has to carry her (flailing, singing terribly) back home as he debates just dropping her. ^^ Emrys is similarly jovial, and only slightly knows his limits better than her. Just enough to be the one responsible for steering their comical staggering walk back home. Though he begrudges it a bit, you can count on him to be the one to get you back into bed and pull your boots off and make sure you don't die in your sleep.

What Pawns say about their Arisen

Most of Rann's remarks would be subtle, and usually would refer to similar habits when they happen to overlap; recklessness, forgetting to eat or sleep, etc. On the flipside, more cautious Arisen would hear quiet sighs and "If only my own Master could learn from this." But occasionally, when settling down around the campfire, you might hear him murmuring a soft remark about how "Though I've traveled in worlds beyond the Rift many a time, of late I cannot help but feel a certain melancholy when I am gone from her side overlong." Emrys… no holds barred. He will out her dirty laundry, especially if the subject comes up. And sometimes even if it doesn't. "Do you think it's a requirement that Arisen are to have insufferable savior complexes, or is it just mine?" (This can be genuine or sarcastic depending on the demeanor of the Arisen he's serving, and could either be seen as praising or critical tbh X'D) (if a quest ends in failure/someone dying/etc., he remarks somewhat more sadly) "…She'd not have liked that." (starts laughing when fighting phantasms and such) "Oh, sorry, just remembered a time my Master went screaming and running the first time we encountered these, I thought for sure she'd damn near pissed her pants." (if the Arisen gets their ass woefully and embarrassingly clobbered while trying to help or bite off more than they can chew) "Don't worry, seen it all before." (I should stop I could probably go on for a while you get the gist)

What kind of video games would they play?

Reverie would probably play more "relaxing" games, with a simulation/management side like SDV or Rune Factory, visual novels, and also all sorts of indies - but then she'd also have a few obsessive favs like Dishonored and Assassin's Creed (stealthy kinds of games with some good story). Rann's a cRPG guy, but he also probably gets into all of the popular co-op games like Among Us, Lethal Company, Phasmophobia - but Rev probably got him into like, Fire Emblem because it's very funny for me to imagine him getting into the particulars about getting good stats on babies.

Olivia will try just about anything, and is pretty competitive - she doesn't get very toxic but she will rage quit and just never pick a game up again. She'd probably be pretty big into something like Monster Hunter too, but she'd also play dress-up games and stuff like the Sims. Emrys... my sorta-meme answer is that he looks for "freedom and choice" in a game, he wants everything Todd Howard and Peter Molyneux promised and will bitch about it when it doesn't deliver. So: Elder Scrolls, Fable, Fallout, some certain cRPGs, etc Oh, he'd also play Pokemon though and get really attached to all of his Pokemon. (...his favorite is Probably Black and White)

What lines would the Pawns have upon the Arisen dying?

Rann: I'm thinking just an effectively heart-wrenching shouting of her name. One of those few instances all walls and restraint break down. In contrast with his usual soothingly calm town, it's pained, cracked with desperation, and a snarling touch of anger, a wellspring of grief. Emrys: "Arisen…?" He'd sound stunned and almost amused in disbelief. The air has gone from his lungs and he can't quite get it back. I think the main thing for him would be a long, dreadful silence tbh, the mental clambering for what to think, say, feel, do in this situation at all, because there's so much of everything welling up and most of it he does not want. "Hey… that's enough of that…" Whether the battle continues or not, it's over for him.