#French Canadian mime

[pocketslook]

therws no canada such as french canada it's the best canada in ze land

#french canadian mime #southpark french canadian mime #christophe delorne #southpark

[aquamarlne]

I made more of These :3

#:3 #silly lil thing #south park #ugly bob #scott the dick #rick the mountie #French Canadian mime #i wanna make me Holy shit

[another-random-object-show]

SEASON 1, EPISODE 1: CROSSING THE PIT.

AUTHORS NOTE: This episode took months to write, so sorry for the shift from Script Format to Novel Format.

(SCENE: A JUNKYARD AT NIGHT, CRICKETS CHIRP AND STARS SHINE. THE MOON IS A STRANGE ORANGE-YELLOW.)

SUNNY (EXCITEDLY): Moony! Moony

MOONY (TURNING TO FACE SUNNY): Hm...?

SUNNY (EXCITEDLY): WE GOT INTO AROS!!!

MOONY (CALMLY): Oh... ok!

SUNNY (RADIANT): even Lunartic got in! :D

MOONY (HORRIFIED): Gasp!

LUNARTIC (APPEARING): What? Whattareya gaspin' for?

MOONY (CALMLY BOWING): Nothing at all.

LUNARTIC (SINISTERLY): Good, because if you were gasping at me getting in...

Lunartic: Sunny would be getting it.

Moony (PLEADING): Loonie, please, he's JUST a kid...

Lunartic (sadistically): So? Children can get it too...

Sunny (excitedly): GUYS!! LOOOK!!

(A BUS DRIVES INTO THE JUNK, HONKING AT THE THREE.)

Sunny (excitedly grabbing Moony and Lunartic's Hands): The bus is here! LET'S GO! :D

Moony (weary): I have a bad feeling about this...

Sunny (waving excitedly as the approach the Bus's Entrance): Hi, Mr. Host! :D

The Gourd: Greetings...

The Gourd (Dramatically): I...

am the Gourd.

Sunny (excitedly): AND I'M SUNNY!! C'mon!! Let's goo!! :D

(Moony and Lunartic silently follow behind, and sit in one of the 3-person wide seats.)

(Sunny begins to yawn, feeling tired.)

Moony (nurturing): Maybe you should rest, sweetie...

Sunny (tired, closing his eyes.): okk...

(Sunny goes to sleep laying his head on Moony's Lap, which somehow doesn't combust.)

(Hours later...)

(BUMP! Sunny wakes up.)

(HALT!)

The Gourd (turning in his Bus Driver's Seat.): We're here.

Sunny (excited): YAY!! Let's go! =D

(All 24 contestants get off the bus and look around.)

The Gourd: One last thing...

(The Gourd levitates the Bus in the air, then claps, making it disappear.)

The Gourd (Cheekily): No leaving!

Question Mark: Where are we?

The Gourd (appearing behind Question Mark): Obviously the (a garble of the words "Texan", "Floridian", "Mexican", "Californian", "Canadian", "Italian", "Zealandic", "French", "German", and "Spanish") plains!

The Gourd (moving on): Now form 8 teams of 8! =)

Sunny (to Moony and Lunartic): Let's stick together! :-)

Lunartic: Alright. Moony?

(Moony is staring in the distance at Starry.)

Lunartic (scoffing): Jeez, just move on already...

Moony (reluctantly): ...alright...

(Cut to Phantous building his team...)

Phantous: Alright, we've got... 5? People?

(Comedai, Tragedai, and Mime are counted as 1, 2, and 3, while Paperplates says "Yep!" and is counted as 4.)

Phantous (thinking): Good...

(He turns and looks at the pool of contestants.)

Phantous (excitedly): How about these?

(He points at Hangman, Starry and House.)

Hangman (hovering over): Alright..

Starry (walking alongside): Sure, I suppose...

House (sitting): You guys are creepy, no thanks!

(⅞ Team Members!)

Phantous (to GyroGyro, Penta, and Cloudy.): You three?

Cloudy (intently): Sure! I'll join!

Phantous (excitedly): Yeah!

(8/8 Team Members!)

Question Mark (to Lunartic and Moony): Let's merge teams to make a full set.

Lunartic, overlapping Moony, said "Alright."

Moony noticed Sunny's disappearance and said— "Wait, where's Sunny—?"

Lunartic, shrugging, says; "Oh well, one less issue."

Sunny, holding GyroGyro, says; "I want him!! He's so silly!!"

Lunartic yells at Sunny, screaming— "Sunny, what have I said about—"

(GyroGyro haunts Lunartic into a daze.)

Question Mark, referring to The Colon Duo, adds; "also these two!"

Angel, at the same time as Devil, says; "Salutations!"

Devil, at the same time as Angel, says; "PERISH!"

Sunny, agreeing, shouts; "YAY!!"

The Gourd, listing, noted "then by automation, Star, Heart, Penta, Triangula, House, Cuby, Lightning and Flower are all on the same team!"

Sunny immediately chiming in ring; " Oh!!! I bet this team will be so FUN!"

("Team FUN!" is now Team 1's Team Name.)

Phantous shouts; "They're naming teams?! Well, I formed this team with Comedy, Tragedy, Mime and Paperplates since we were already a group... why not be..."

("The Masquerade" is now Team 2's Team Name.)

The Gourd, to Star, Heart, Penta, Triangula, House, Lightning, Cuby and Flower, said: "and you're...?"

House, confused says; "What?"

(Team "What?" is now Team 3's Team Name.)

Star offended, shouts: "THAT'S NOT WHAT HE—!!"

The Gourd, clapping, cuts in with: "Alright, be quiet now!"

The Gourd now turns around and stares at a piece of land.

Hangman, after a moment of awkward silence, asks: "So what's the first challenge?"

The Gourd then hovers his hands over an area, an aura pulsating as from the ground, a strange stone structure erects.

The Gourd now blasts upward.

Hangman disappointingly groaned; "I'll go after him."

House curiously asked; "How will–?"

Hangman groans before grabbing House and being raised by his rope upwards.

Hangman arrives, followed by The Gourd clapping.

The contestants appear as Gourd says–

The Gourd would now announce— "CONTESTANTS! The first challenge... is to cross an OBSTACLE COURSE DANGLING ABOVE LAVA! Watch the example contestants VERY closely!"

A Circle and an Egg are used.

"You must find a way to get to the other side of this vat of lava! Use either the large, yet trickety platforms, or the thin-yet-stable beams! If you fall into the lava and die, you are DISQUALIFIED!" Gourd says.

"Wait, you're going to let us die—?" Starry asks, being ignored as Gourd shouts "GO!"

"Oh, alright—" Starry said as we pan over to Team Fun.

"Guys! I have a plan!" Moony said.

"Shoot." Devil Colon said.

"Sunny and Colon Duo, you guys can carry us across the obstacle course while me and Lunartic simply do the obby!" Moony stated.

"Sounds good! ^^" Angel said, now picking up Question Mark on her head, While Devil Colon carried Exclamation Mark, who began screaming, on his back.

Sunny now jumped into the lava, being unaffected, and caught GyroGyro and Period.

The Colon Duo now flew over the Obby, and waited for Gourd.

"Hoho! Excellent loophole skills!" He praised. "I never said you CAN'T just avoid the obby, so The Colon Duo, Question Mark, and Exclamation Mark are safe!"

Switching to Team "What?" and The Masquerade.

Cuby began trying to hop across the large-yet-trickety platforms, inviting Heart along.

"Uhm, there isn't much room, darling!" Heart exclaimed, despite there being a perfect amount of room on the platform.

Paperplates jumped, only to be blown into the vat of lava and burn.

"7 members on The Masquerade remain!" Gourd annouced.

"Aren't you gonna bring her back or something?" Question Mark said to Gourd, who blinked, before closing his hand into a fist, and...

COOL 80S DRUM RIFF!

Paperplates was back! ...with a small stain of soot on her.

Mime and Phantous got across, since Hangman was carrying them, while Cloud carried Starry across.

"Alright, that means—" Phantous was about to speak...

"WHATTERS!! HURRY IT UP!! THERE'S ONLY 2 MEMBERS ON BOTH TEAMS LEFT!!" Star shouted.

Penta, Lightning, House, and Triangula are safe!

Sunny, Period and GyroGyro are also safe!

Switch to Moony and Lunartic.

"Loonie, c'mon!" Moony said to Lunartic.

"...I could kill you right now if I wanted to." Lunartic said.

"...Loonie, no."

"Do it.

For us."

Randomly, as Heart and Cuby were about to cross, an asteroid was thrown at the two, blocking their paths.

"Good girl." Lunartic said, now crossing the platform to be considered safe alongside Moony.

"TEAM FUN IS SAFE! MASQUERADIANS! WHATTERS!ONE OF YOU WILL BE ELIMINATED! HURRY IT UP!" Gourd annouced, as Comedy and Tragedy now rushed.

Star tackled Comedy, killing both himself and Comedy.

"Comedy is disqualified!"

"Yes!" Heart said, glad her off-screen suggestion worked.

"Which means since Tragedy crossed, albeit crying, THE MASQUERADE IS SAFE!" The Gourd announced.

"No!" Heart said.

"Team What?, you're on the chopping block tonight." Gourd said.

The Gourd now flies out of the chamber, flying downwards before teleporting the contestants back onto ground level.

"You have a few moments before the elimination ceremony begins! GOOD LUCK." The Gourd said, before cackling maniacally and dissolving into the air.

"Hey, hey! It's alright!" Phantom said, trying to comfort a flailing Tragedy.

"Eugh, overreaction..." Heart groaned. "For real..." Lightning agreed. "Tsk... speaking of which, I think we know who to eliminate..." Heart told Lightning, "Ugh, yes! That FREAK has GOT to go, like honestly, what was he even doing...?"

Star and Comedy were then revived.

"Let's go." Star said. "FREAKS! Follow me. WE'VE got a plan."

ELIMINATION TIME!

"Welcome to elimination, Team What?, all 8 of you will now vote for ONE person to be eliminated. Whoever has the most votes LEAVES, voting... is NOW."

IN THE BOOTH

"Goodbye, silent-y." Star votes Cuby.

"Nobody will miss you!" Heart blows a kiss.

"I have to get on their good side, sorry buddy." Penta votes Cuby.

"Uhm... I don't... like her... she makes me feel... uncomfortable." Triangula votes Heart.

House casts a vote.

"We've GOT to stick together! We're like, BFFLs right now!" Lightning votes.

Cuby angrily slams a button.

"The way they're treating poor Cuby... I despise that woman..." Flower sighs deeply and votes.

VOTES ARE IN!

"If you get a Marshmallow, you will be SAFE!" The Gourd announced.

FIRST SAFE IS...

Star!

"Oh yeah! I knew I could count on you guys."

Lightning...

"Let's go girl!" Lightning exclaims to Heart.

Flower.

"Ooh, yay! <)" Flower says, taking his marshmallow.

and House!

House opens his door as the marshmallow flies through.

Now half of you are safe;

and half of you are NOT.

"OWOWPSJWPNDPDJAPWJEOE!!!"

Triangula, you're overreacting. You're safe.

and so is Penta.

One of you got 3 votes.

The other got 5.

Heart is shocked as she stares at Cuby angrily.

THE LAST PERSON SAFE IS...

HEART WITH 3 VOTES.

Cuby is out, receiving 5 votes from the rest of his team.

Cuby begins frantically scribbling, however, Gourd begins to spin the Cube back into...

A lifeless Nintendo GameCube.

Flower stares in shock as Heart and Star celebrate.

"That's all for today...

SEE YOU NEXT TIME. :-)"

END.

AROS was written by TheWiseGuest.

All characters' voices, present or not, were acted out by L. Alberto S.

FIN.

JOIN ANOTHER RANDOM OBJECT SHOW TO WIN YOUR DEEPEST DESIRE.

Cuby holds the flyer, before gripping it.

#episode 1 #s1e1 #another random object show #aros season 1 #aros #object shows

[brookstonalmanac]

Birthdays 3.22

Beer Birthdays

Joseph Straub (1880)

Steve Wellington (1944)

Five Favorite Birthdays

George Benson; jazz guitarist (1941)

Bob Costas; sportscaster (1952)

James T. Kirk; starfleet captain (2233)

William Shatner; actor (1931)

Reese Witherspoon; actor (1976)

Famous Birthdays

Jessie Andrews; porn actor (1992)

Angelo Badalamenti; composer (1937)

Wolf Blitzer; television journalist (1948)

Derek Bok; writer, educator (1930)

Bruno Ganz; actor (1941)

Bill Holman; cartoonist (1903)

Werner Klemperer; actor (1920)

Louis L'Amour; writer (1908)

Karl Malden; actor (1912)

Marcel Marceau; French mime (1923)

Ross Martin; actor (1920)

Chico Marx; actor, comedian (1887)

Robert Millikan; physicist (1868)

Matthew Modine; actor (1959)

Edward Moore; English poet (1712)

Lena Olin; actor (1955)

James Patterson; writer (1947)

Pat Robertson; evangelical nut job, televangelist, religious hypocrite and bigot (1930)

Stephen Sondheim; composer (1930)

Elvis Stojko; Canadian figure skater (1972)

Harry Vanda; rock musician (1947)

Anthony Van Dyck; Flemish artist (1599)

M. Emmet Walsh; actor (1935)

Andrew Lloyd Webber; composer (1948)

Bill Wendell; television announcer (1924)

Wonder Woman; Amazonian (1941)

#Birthdays

[mywifeleftme]

319: Gilbert Bécaud // Incroyablement

Incroyablement Gilbert Bécaud 1959, Pathé

The first clip that came up when I searched “Gilbert Bécaud 1950s” opens with the pomaded chanteur in the midst of hurling himself down a curved marble banister. He narrates the slide with a high-pitched grunt of exertion, like Mario nailing a wall jump, hits the floor, bounces, and trots without pause over to a piano in the adjoining room where he begins miming his motormouthed hit “Incroyablement.” It’s clear from the closeups that he really can play the hell out of a piano, but he also gets so caught up in mugging for the camera that he just starts gesticulating with both hands, leaving the instrument to fend for itself. The clip (from 1959’s Croquemitoufle) ends with Bécaud taking a blind leap backwards and landing in the arms of a puzzled dude in a pompous hat who’s walked in on the end of the performance. In the next one I clicked, Bécaud hurriedly tramps through the snow with the cadence of a vintage windup toy and jumps over a stone wall. In the next, he wanders on stage whipping his head worriedly left and right until he locks onto the camera and zooms toward it, a grin of dog-like relief splitting his face. I go on: Bécaud playing air-violin. Bécaud looking much more comfortable dancing like a marionette than embracing Brigitte Bardot.

When I asked girlfriend of the podcast and intrepid French-language correspondent Mea to give me one of her capsule reads on Bécaud (see my Félix Leclerc review), she demurred, saying she didn’t know enough about him, and that relative to contemporaries like Aznavour, Gainsbourg, Brel, et al he’d been “left behind in his era” as she put it. As to why that was, she didn’t exactly know either, but passed along a quote from a La Presse writeup on his career: “Next to tortured geniuses happy men look like imbeciles.” Elton John is proof enough that it doesn’t take an intellectual to write great tunes on the piano, but it must be said: for a man who seemed most comfortable playing the lovable goofball, Bécaud and his various lyricists composed a body of classic songs that compares well to that of any of his contemporaries, much of it imaginative, sophisticated, and touched with genuine poetry.

Incroyablement is a 1959 Canadian compilation that captures a young Bécaud already established as a reliable hitmaker and one of France’s premiere live attractions (hence his nickname, “Monsieur 100,000 volts”), yet still on the cusp of his greatest successes. In some ways Bécaud’s zany physicality anticipated the vibrant energy of rock music, but it also hearkened back to the way singers approached the stage before the advent of the electric microphone. In vaudeville and music hall performers were free to roam, but the microphone rooted them in place, forcing them to narrow the focus of their energy into the temperamental metal appliance mounted to its pole. To paraphrase the aforementioned La Presse article, other singers of Bécaud’s generation stood like trees, but he was a bird in constant motion. He was forever darting away from the mic, like a child who notices his guardian’s attention has wandered, to pound away at his piano or goof with the band or clasp hands with his audience.

I prefer Incroyablement to the later Bécaud compilation in my collection (1968’s Les titres d’or de Gilbert Bécaud) because youth suits him. On “La cruche” he raps about drunken scenes at a bar over zippy hot jazz chords; on “Alors raconte” (“So, Tell Me”) it’s Bécaud who sounds tipsy, telling a shaggy dog story about a woman to an impetuous chorus of whistling oglers; on “Marie, Marie,” a dreamy acoustic ballad, he plays the role of a nebbishy librarian pining over a girl among the stacks. And could he suffer? He could suffer! On “Les croix,” his first hit, he plucks at the heart strings like a master, enumerating the crosses of ruins, convents, and hope chests before revealing his own burden:

And me, poor me I have my cross in my head The immense lead cross Vast as love I hang the wind there I hold back the storm I spend the evening there And I hide the day there And me, poor me I have my cross in my head A word is engraved there Which sounds like “suffering” But this familiar word Let my lips repeat Is so heavy to carry That I think I'll die

Hell yeah man. All of these poses, the melodramatic and the comedic, are ones he’d continue to play till the very end, but it’s all a bit cuter before the cigarettes put a rasp in his voice and he gets that Engelbert Humperdinck bouffant thing going on that makes his head look as wide as it is tall.

If you’re an Anglophone like me, you’re not going to pick up these lyrical specifics without doing some research, but the thing about Bécaud is that he’s so expressive, an artist of such broad gesture, that you really can kinda get the gist of what he’s up on vibes alone. If you’ve any fondness for chanson, or even your Tony Bennett / Dean Martin / Sammy Davis Jr. type crooners, you’ll have a blast with this guy. To quote La Presse’s Stéphane Laporte one more time, “Suffering does not have a monopoly on life: happiness also has its share.” Gilbert had plenty of it on offer.

319/365

#gilbert bécaud #chanson #vaudeville #standards #french music #toulon #'50s music #performers #la presse #crooner #music review #vinyl record #pathé

[rabid-citrus]

Heyyy, you said its okay to ask about your aus and stuff, so im curious! It would be nice hearing more about your oc universe! Maybe you can make a post listing all of them? No pressure ofc!

Oh boy, where do i start

So there's like 3 original worlds I've created in my head + miitopia and a really self-indulgent fnaf au that's been marinating in there since 2016, and i could write a 40 page essay on every single one if i had enough time and motivation, so I'll just give you shitty summaries for now

Carpet Clowns – collab w my bestie @s1rchek, basically my jester girl Daisy-Bell moved in to live with s1rchek's self-proclaimed scientist Kapeta who studies the mushroom plague in a godforsaken russian city of Mukhosransk, and they witness the horrors together.

Carpetclown Cryptids – so basically what if our ocs were cryptic entities terrorizing a russian village; Kapeta would be the local leshy who looks like a black silhouette with moss and mushrooms in their hair wearing a nightgown(?) and who hates humans and curses the most irritating ones with rot and shrooms-growing-over-you disease(go ask my friend, they know their victorian theydy better than i do) and Daisy would be known as Field jolly (полевая веселушка) who appears in the fields at the late evening and wears a jester cap to go with her bright dress. The Field Jolly often has a flock of large hawk moths (aka the death head butterflies) following her, and she might offer you a poppy. If you accept, you'll die within a month and a butterfly similar to her flock will crawl out of your mouth.

CCRPG – carpetclowns fantasy rpgmaker game plot involving missing king, a cult and your average rpgmaker game stuff. we joke the whole game is just Kapeta and Daisy's power fantasy

Tales of Calmford Town – my 100% original microcosm that basically boils down to "Flanelle the french-canadian mime boy and Dots the russian clown girl live together in a small town full of qirky friendly people and go on adventures together" And they're both members of clown species who need to cheer people up to get emotional sustainance regularly, or else they might get sick. Essentially the most light-hearted and whimsical story on this list

{unnamed, i call it playrooms for now} – stories about kids getting sucked into bootleg backrooms and trying to survive there. also there's friendly toy entities. and weird creatures like a parasite that eats your flesh and mind and tricks you into ingesting it by disguising itself as a cake. that's basically it lmao

And now, the FANDOM MICROCOSMS!

Flipside AU – fnaf au with it's primary focus on the puppet and it's variations from across the games, both official fnaf and the fangames. Lots of fnaf lore angst, lots of headcanons, and the majority of puppets have human names now. For example the og puppet is named Charles (they picked it himself to honor Charlie). also sentient AIs and the titular Flipside is the afterlife/dream world (I DIDN'T KNOW of dsaf when I came up with that name and the concept, don't at me)

Miitopia Au – my miitopia playthrough but now WITH MIITOPIA LORE

i will actually post art of them all once i finish with my exams :-) hope you like it!

#answering asks #orannge microcosms #< i will use this tag when talking about my imaginary worlds i constructed in my head

[smikdrawsjunk]

Rebel Blob posted:

Draw me like one of your French fairies.

La French Fairy is a peculiar fairy. While she has fully working wings, she prefers to ride on cacodemons who do Let's Plays on YouTube and stream on Twitch. Perhaps because the cacodemon is also French -- French Canadian! Oh la French Fairy, you are such a rebel! So Avant Garde! Much like your Reverse Mime act, in which you vocally describe a situation while enclosed in an actual box. Or your other Reverse Mime act, in which you write poetry using a series of signs as you struggle against an actual gale force wind. Then there was that time you did performance art consisting of murdering a quasi-sentient pineapple with a stale baguette.

The Kicking Rad Fairysaurus thinks she's a little weird.

#fairy #psychadeliceyeball

[goalhofer]

Famous February 21, 2023 birthdays.

King Harald V Of Norway (Norwegian king), 86

David Geffen (American record producer & movie executive), 80

Ellen Daly (American actress & singer), 77

Anthony Daniels (British actor & mime), 77

Jeremiah Harrison (American singer & keyboardist), 74

Allen Grammer (American actor), 68

Alan Trammell (American baseball player), 65

Capt. Scott Kelly (American naval pilot & astronaut), 59

Aunjanue Ellis (American actress), 54

Brian Rolston (American hockey player), 50

Ryan Smyth (Canadian hockey player), 47

Jordan Peele (American actor & movie director)(pictured), 44

Jennifer Hewitt Hallisay (American actress & singer), 44

Brad Fast (Canadian hockey player), 43

Andre Barrett (American basketball player), 41

Braylon Edwards (American football player), 40

Franklin Gutiérrez (Venezuelan baseball player), 40

Mélanie Laurent (French actress), 40

James Wisniewski (American hockey player), 39

Mattias Tedenby (Swedish hockey player), 33

Devon Travis (American baseball player), 32

Wendy (South Korean singer & voice actress), 29

Sophie Jonas (British actress)(pictured), 27

#Celebrities #Movies #TV Shows #New York City #New York #U.K. #Politics #Norway #Music #Wisconsin #U.S. Virgin Islands #Sports #Baseball #Planes #New Jersey #Hockey #Michigan #Canada #Alberta #Texas #British Columbia #Basketball #Football #Venezuela #France #Sweden #Florida #South Korea

[bandydear]

I made some Yellowjackets memes after That Finale

#Yellowjackets #yellowjackets spoilers #petition to call the French Canadian blood sacrifice demon Francois #after the mime Shauna was gonna dump

[piratewithvigor]

Top 5 wwe/wwf wrestlers. Go!

Oh this is a very evil question, but I’m gonna answer it as best I can.

5. Rowdy Roddy Piper

Look at this smug motherfucker in his goddamn kilt I want to punch him square in the face but also his hair is so cute and fluffy and he’s so viciously Canadian but no one really knows about it and so angwy and cute and smirky

4. Shawn Michaels

The opposite of Roddy and yet the same. I have never witnessed a heterosexual man with bigger gay vibes like he’s literally miming a bj in that gif complete with ball stimulation. Twunk and we love him for it.

3. Kane

Bean. Smol tall bean. Needs so many hugs and I want to give them to him. He would tear me in twain with his bare hands and I would still want to hug him. Doesn’t he have mayor stuff to do?

2. Andre The Giant

My OG Favourite. French, which is cool and I respect him for going by Geant Ferre for much of his early career. Really living the ‘one tit out’ life. Keep one tit wild, that your party tit.

1. The Undertaker

10/10 would bone in an instant. I have been thirsting for him nonstop since April 25th. I want to ride him like a horse and have him chokeslam me, daddy Taker. Literally would die for this man and it wouldn’t even matter because he’s died so many times. Literally live every day according to what I think he would be proud of

[letsbenditlikebennett]

Wolf, Bat, & Rat || Ariana & Harsh

TIMING: During Sweet Dreams POTW PARTIES: @notsoharsh & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Ariana and Harsh run into each other while looking at knives. No wrong assumptions are made and no rat kings show up in the store. 

Humans and their fucking birthdays. Why did they even make such a big deal about them? Well, maybe when they only had about forty of them to look forward too, they were more important. Harsh didn’t care much about his own, he had forgotten when it was some hundred years ago. It didn’t matter. He kept track of the years in a vague sense, but after two hundred had gone by, the precise number was less and less important. The gap between 29 and 30 seemed much bigger than the one between 262 and 263. But Kaden was closer to the former, so he needed some kind of present. Something nice, something he could probably use to kill people. That’s what hunters liked, right? Harsh didn’t really know where to start. He had picked the store at random. Their stuff looked relatively high end, decent knives at least. The door at the bell rang, new customer probably. Harsh let his eyes drift over. Huh, she looked kind of young to be checking out weapons, but… she could be a hunter, they started young. He didn’t pay her much mind, instead keeping his attention focused on the knives lining the wall before him. This would be a lot easier if he had any idea where to start. “I wish these things had better labels,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. 

 If how things were going lately was a sign of anything, Ariana was about 95% sure she was cursed and she was almost positive the mimes had something to do with it. Every time she actually needed to use all the random shit that seemed to be popping up around town lately, it conveniently vanished from her pocket like she was in some sort of nightmare. Sure, she had other assets she could rely on, but she couldn’t just casually turn into a wolf in the middle of town. Or maybe she could. It’s not like she’d be the craziest thing anyone was seeing. There was another man over by the knives, but she mostly minded her business looking over the non-silver knives until she heard him speak. She looked to him with an amused grin on her face and joked, “You mean, you can’t tell what type of metal it is just by looking?” She picked up one of the ones in front of him and ignored the mild irritation from the silver before placing it back down. “Are you looking for something in particular? I’m no expert, but I have a decent enough idea of what I’m looking at.” 

 Oh shit, this kid actually knew something. She probably was a hunter then. Harsh gave the blade another look. It did look kind of silvery. God, he needed to be better about this. He had never really cared about the kind of wood stakes were made out of as long as they weren’t pointed his way. But he should. He flashed her a sheepish smile and shrugged. “They all kind of look the same to me. I go more on the weight and feel. Knives aren’t really my area, I’m looking for a friend. He’s got a birthday coming up and he’s really into all this stuff.” Harsh gestured to the wall, which was almost entirely covered in hunter tools. Really, he should have been more careful walking into this place. They didn’t have a wall for stakes, but he wouldn’t be surprised if there were tons in the back just waiting for slayers to ask. “What about you? Is this where cool kids hang out after school now?” She looked young… ish. He had never been great at guessing human ages even when he was one. She was sort of small, but that could mean anything. Maybe high school? Middle school age? That was probably a weird thing to ask. There weren’t any parents trailing after her waxing on and on about silver and cold iron, so she was probably at least old enough to walk around town without a babysitter. When did they stop babysitting kids now… twelve? Maybe she was twelve. 

 Judging by the lack of knife knowledge, Ariana felt herself relax a bit as she realized this man was decidedly not a hunter. Especially not a werewolf hunter. While her luck with hunters and winning them over was going, odds are the ones shopping for knives would be plenty eager to stab her. Which was something she largely preferred to avoid. She laughed a bit and said, “You’re valid. Do you know what type of knives your friend normally goes for? What does he like besides knives? Some of the engravings really give extra personality.” It dawned on her that Kaden had a birthday coming up pretty soon. She was, after all, nearly done with the final touches on his gift. What were the odds this random guy was friends with Kaden? He looked like he was maybe about Kaden’s age, but it was hard to tell. She’d still probably pick something she knew Kaden would probably like and hoped it wasn’t going to a werewolf hunter who would actually use it on her. Or one of her friends. She refrained from sighing as she picked up another nice looking knife that slightly irritated her skin. The remark about after school made her laugh a bit. “Oh yeah,” she joked, “Knives are the new makeup because why should your looks be the only thing that kill?” 

 Glancing at the selection, Harsh carefully picked up a blade. It was… very shiny. Great. Wait, the label there said silver. That might be good. He cast a glance at the kid. If she was a hunter, she would probably know what he was after as soon as he tried to get specific. “I think he’s a fan of silver or iron. It’s tough, he’s got a lot already, but that’s a good point. Maybe I could get one of these engraved for him. I should get one with stripes, he would hate that,” he said, with a soft laugh as he set the knife back down. Maybe he was going about this all wrong. Kaden had knives, he had weapons. And lately he seemed… less than enthusiastic when they talked about hunting. But what the hell else did hunters need? “You mean killing a guy with eyeliner isn’t enough now? Damn, kids have it rough these days,” he said, shaking his head. He picked up another knife, faintly trying to test the weight of it. It felt even, nice and balanced. That was probably good, even if he wasn’t sure what the hell it was best used on. Maybe he should just get Kaden something he could drink instead. “You here for knives too? Or are you more of a crossbow person?” He glanced at the kid again, she seemed nice enough… probably harmless. Or as harmless as any hunter ever was. If she was one. Hunters really needed to wear nametags or something. 

 This man was clearly going for hunter metals which wasn’t the most comforting thought, until he mentioned the stripes. Ariana grimaced at the thought of stripes and how she had almost been stuck with them. You ghost one mime on Tinder and suddenly they were all out to get you… or maybe they realized she also ate one of them once. Not that it really mattered. “Silver or iron, huh? And stripes… someone who likes silver and iron knives, but hates stripes. Wouldn’t also happen to be grumpy and French, would he?” Was this one of Kaden’s friends? If she helped pick a knife for Kaden, it was a lot less likely to end up in her own side. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but her brow raised in question all the same. She picked up another one of the silver ones despite the minor rash beginning to form on her hands. It had some nicer designs along the handle though she wasn’t sure how much Kaden really cared for aesthetics outside of his hair and pies. The smile that thought started only grew as this man joked around with her. “I know, it’s a tragedy… or maybe not, I’ve never been great with makeup. Knives are a little more straight-forward.” Not as much as teeth and claws, but they did the job. And were a lot less obvious. She handed the knife over the man and made sure to not show her now slightly irritated palm. “Nah, I was actually looking for the candy store,” she said with a smirk before she gave the real answer, “But yeah, never know when you’re gonna get attacked by a mime or some shit in this town. I can throw a hell of a punch, but… better safe than sorry. And yes, I do know how to use a knife. Both for cooking and as a weapon.” She realized they were having a pretty good back and forth, so she added, “I’m Ari, by the way.” 

 French? Harsh blinked. It was a small town after all. A smile snuck onto his face as he nodded. “He is. Although, I think he’s faking, I speak French better than he does. I bet he’s Canadian French,” he said, voice dropping slightly, as if conveying a deep secret. So she knew Kaden. That figured. Well, as far as hunters went, he wasn’t so bad. Huh, the more he looked at this kid, the more she kind of looked like Kaden. Shit, how old was Kaden? If this kid was twelve… Kaden could’ve had a kid young. Humans did that sometimes. Her not being all French was weird, but maybe she grew up here. Shit, why didn’t Kaden ever tell him he had a kid? “Oh yeah, the mimes are a real hazard, gotta keep an eye on them. Y’know, the first time I ever met Kaden, we got attacked by one. Good times.” He took the knife, testing the weight. It seemed fine too. Maybe a little unbalanced. “I’m Harsh, nice to meet you. I don’t think Kaden’s mentioned you before, but I get it. Probably doesn’t want you hanging around his hunting buddies. Do you take after him?” If she was a hunter, she was still dangerous, even if she was just a kid. Maybe her mom was normal though. That would be just like a hunter, train them young even if they don’t get the hunter powers. 

 Making fun of Kaden? Ariana decided she liked this man already. That paired with the fact she could practically hear Kaden cursing in French at the thought of this whole conversation. It brought a devious grin to her face as she agreed, “You know, I always knew his French accent sounded phony. And he does talk about poutine a lot.” Another knife caught her eye as it had a nice leather cover for the blade. She picked it up and it reminded her eerily of one of Celeste’s which probably meant it was good though it wasn’t the most comforting thought. Clearly this guy knew Kaden was a hunter though, why else would he be gifting him knives for his birthday? Still, he didn’t seem ready to use one of the knives on her and didn’t quite have a feel for them so that pointed to the conclusion that he probably couldn’t detect her no matter how many times that fun little paranoid thought popped right on up. “That sounds like the worst first meeting ever, but for Kaden, that doesn’t surprise me. I think we’ve both pissed the mimes off at this point. Talk about silent but deadly.” Then it came, he indicated he was one of Kaden’s hunting buddies and boy was he fucking right. Kaden didn’t want her hanging around his hunting buddies. Probably because a good chunk of them would want to kill her. And wait-- did this Harsh guy just ask if she took after him? Did he think Kaden was her dad or something? How old did he think she was? Actually, this probably wasn’t a bad rouse to keep up. “Nice to meet you, Harsh,” she said brightly, maybe even a little too much so, “You know Kaden, that sounds about right. He can be a little protective. But yeah, you could say that I take after him. We’re both pretty good at taking down beasts… and mimes. What about you?” Way better for this hunter to think she was a beast hunter than a werewolf, right? 

 “Right? He’s definitely just from Quebec.” Kaden was going to hate this. Harsh couldn’t stop grinning. This kid was pretty okay. He had never cared much for kids one way or the other. They weren’t really an option for him personally and a lot of them kinda seemed annoying, but Ari was alright. And she seemed to be buying the hunter thing so far, so that was a big plus. “It wasn’t great. The mime looked just like him. Worst date ever. Uh, not that it was a date. Cause dating Kaden would be gross.” That was close, good save. It hadn’t been a date, not really. Harsh had maybe been angling for that beforehand, but Kaden hadn’t gotten the hint. And it was old news anyway. Plus, his kid probably wouldn’t want to hear about that. Better to move on and just not talk about that. “I’m alright with mimes. I do better with bloodsuckers. Which is why I’m a little lost here with the knives. I usually stick to stakes. And usually it doesn’t matter too much what kind of material those are made out of.” There were a few exceptions to that, as he had learned. This whole ‘fake slayer’ thing took a lot more research than he would have expected. He had to actually sound like he knew what he was talking about. Such a pain. He picked up another knife. Looked like silver too, with a little wolf etched into the hilt. That seemed offensive somehow. Maybe Kaden would like it. “He’s a good guy, I feel like I should get him something nice. But you know him better than me. Do you think he already has enough knives?” He probably did. What else did Kaden like? Maybe something obnoxiously French. Harsh frowned, brow furrowed as he tried to think. It was hard with that soft, weird noise coming from the back of the store. Something was squeaking up a storm back there. He glanced over the counter. “Do you hear something?”

 “Someone better update his Yelp reviews,” Ariana quipped in response. The smile on her face only grew. Even when he wasn’t around, there was something fun about messing with Kaden. It was probably all the French swearing. Then, here eyes widened like saucers when Harsh said the word date. Kaden had gone on a date with this guy? What? It dawned on her she didn’t actually know how long he and Regan had been dating, but it was definitely as long as she had known him. Clarification soon came albeit in a manner that wasn’t the most convincing, but she’d take it at face value. The moon knew she didn’t always say the right fucking thing. “Oh yeah, the fucking mime twins. Those were the worst. I had to e-,” she cut herself off quickly and tried to recover, “Fight my mime twin, too. She wasn’t cute. But hey, Kaden’s not totally gross. He makes good pie. Still mimes are not a fun way to meet.” The last bit came out a bit rushed as she literally almost told a hunter that she ate her mime twin. Ate. Not stabbed or shot. Ate. A very distinctly werewolf thing to do. Good going, Bennett. There was a slightly puzzled look on her face about her knowing Kaden better but she decided to go with it. “He does enjoy a nice knife though I think the wolf may be a little too… not in good taste,” she noted biting back any hint of anger the knife made her feel, “He really likes baking, too. And flannel. I think a knife fits though-- for your friendship with him since you know, hunting buddies. Gifts aren’t so much about what they are as much as they’re about who they remind you of.” A chorus of squeaking caught her off guard and her head whipped over to make out what the sound was as she caught wind of an animal-like smell. “I definitely hear something,” she said as she followed the sound as she heard a scream, “Oh, what the fuck?” Was that… a bunch of rats? That seemed to be morphing into a larger, scarier rat? “Well, I guess it’s a good thing we’re in a knife store,” she said, gripping the knife she had in her hand still as she lunged toward the rat monster.

 Why had he said it like that? In front of Kaden’s fucking kid too. It didn’t matter that Harsh had maybe thought the meeting was a little more than it actually was. That was so far in the past. Kaden was his buddy, against every rational thought and hint of self preservation he had. And now here he was, chatting with his daughter. When the hell had his life turned into some kind of bullshit sitcom? But it probably wasn’t going to have a great season ender if they ever figured out the real reason he could never grab a round of drinks down at the local hunter bar. “Shit, you had one too?” Maybe that was a family thing. “I killed Kaden’s. Which was… kind of horrifying.” Harsh found himself frowning, a little annoyed at how that wasn’t quite a lie. Which was fucking strange. He didn’t actually care about Kaden. That soulless gaping void inside wouldn’t let him. But there was no thrill in the rearview mirror, no rush at the thought of taking out something that even looked like a hunter. Hell, talking to this kid, there was no urge to take the knife in his hand and see if it worked just as well on hunters as it did on wolves. That should be there. But… nothing. The idea was actually… not pleasant if he let it sit there. Weird. He was getting soft in his old age maybe. “Yeah, no on the wolf then,” he said, setting the knife down. “Flannel might be good. You think they have any plaid knives?” The squeaking was getting louder and weirder until the mound of twisting, shrieking rats burst in. Oh. Gross. It figured even the pests couldn’t just be normal here. “Shit--” This kid was definitely a hunter. Someday he would hang out with someone who’s first instinct wasn’t to launch themself at the closest source of horror as soon as it walked into a room. Oh well. Harsh snatched up the blade he had just set down, rushing after Ariana. He slashed, cutting through a few rats twisted up in the growing snarling mass. But some of them were way more than rat sized. One nearly Ariana’s size leapt at her. Harsh moved without thinking, taking a mouth of sharp teeth to the arm. “Fucking rats--we can’t stab all of them. There’s gotta be something--”

 “Yep,” Ariana said matter of factly, “And damn, talk about a first meeting. At least you got rid of his mime.” She was pretty sure Celeste had also encountered Kaden’s mime twin. At least from what she was able to gather from her sister. It was just a relief to be past the point where everyone had their own murderous mime twin out for blood. Stripes and murder looked good on no one. Briefly, her focus shifted back to knives and she laughed at the idea of a plaid one, “A flannel knife, now that’d be unique. Maybe they have a flannel cover for one? Or maybe you just get one engraved to say ‘putain’ along the handle or something.” All talk of knives was gone now as she found herself lunging toward a… pile of rats? Even with her sharp senses, it was hard to get a read on how this rodent mob was moving. Every way it jerked was erratic and had a tendency to take shelves down with it. Great. At least Harsh was following given he was a hunter. A hunter and a werewolf could definitely take on a bunch of rats magically tied together, right? As a rat leapt toward her, she found Harsh intervening and her grip on the knife in her hand tightened. They seemed to move together with purpose, but so chaotically she couldn’t keep up with their next move. She took a step back, kicking one on her way for good measure, “I mean, we could stab all of them, we just might also end up scratched to all hell,” she said incredulously, “I’ve never seen something like this before, but maybe, I know Kaden used fire on a hedgehound before. Since there’s so many, it may be more effective than, well, sta- Ow!” Apparently the rats didn’t like her idea and were nipping at her ankle. The one time she didn’t wear high topped boots. She lifted her foot up to stomp on the ones at her foot, “Fuck off you stupid rat,” she grumbled as she refrained from letting out a more animalistic sound. A wolf was not about to be taken down by a bunch of rats. She was a wolf, for fuck’s sake. For good measure, she kept her knife drawn. “You got a lighter? I’ve got some spray deodorant in my backpack if the- I swear on Post Malone’s life if you don’t stop trying to bite my feet I’m going to turn this joint into a rat barbecue.” 

 It was probably better to leave out the part where a second weird mim Kaden had walked in the door just after the last one was dispatched. That made him sound a whole lot cooler anyway. If there was a way to be cool when fighting some kind of horrifying mime clone. Harsh certainly hadn’t felt cool at the time. He also very much did not feel cool now. The rat that had sunk its teeth into him was a persistent little fucker, taking at least three sharp stabs before it finally let go and dropped to the floor. Jerking back, he kept the knife in front of him slashing at any of the vermin that tried to leap at them. “Yeah, I’d like to look for a plan B. There’s too many of these fucking things.” Should he be swearing in front of her? Whatever, Kaden cursed like a French sailor, he probably wouldn’t care. So not the time to worry about that crap. Kids seemed more desensitized to that now anyway. She probably heard a lot worse at school. “Fire? That could work. Hang on.” As luck would have it, he did have a lighter on him. Harsh didn’t smoke much, not breathing made it sort of hard, but it never hurt to have a light and a few extra smokes on him just in case. Plus, it made him look cool. Aesthetic was important, even if he couldn’t see himself in the mirror. He fumbled at his jacket pockets, finding the lighter and pulling it free. “Here, this should work.” Even as he said it, he couldn’t stop glancing around, looking for something bigger than a knife. There was an axe on the far wall. It probably wouldn’t do much more than the blades, but maybe they could hack the mass of rats apart if the fire didn’t take care of them first. 

 Anyone else visiting the shop had long since cleared out. Ariana could hardly blame them. She would much rather be far away from whatever the fuck his rat atrocity was. It was hard to keep track of its movements as tails, claws, and fur scurried around her. Which was bullshit. A pile of rats attacking a wolf. While Ariana didn’t necessarily consider herself to be inherently better than others, it really wasn’t too much to ask that rodents and produce knew their place in the food chain. It took a concentrated effort to keep her claws in place and not accidentally go a little wolf-y in front of this hunter guy who thought she was a hunter. At least she could still stab the little shits and she did as they lunged toward her again. “Too many is an understatement,” she grumbled as she just barely dodged more tiny yet surprisingly fucking sharp teeth. “Hanging on here but quicker we get some fire the better,” she said as she kept swatting at rats with her knife. Once the lighter was out, she grabbed it and directed, “Watch my back for a minute.” She fumbled around in her backpack momentarily before pulling out the spray can filled with deodorant she had on her for rainy days. Here goes nothing. She held the lighter up far away from her and carefully aimed the spray nozzle toward the slew of rats charging her. “Harsh, keep your distance,” she said quickly and confidently before she pressed down on the spray nozzle causing a large frame to hit the rats… And singed her fingers, but that hardly mattered. A storm of squeaks erupted through the shop followed closely by the pungent smell of burning rats. She stood her ground and tried to concentrate the flame toward the rats, but some of the fliers and carpet were decidedly also toast. Literally. It didn’t take too long for the squeaks to fade and the rats to turn to ash. She turned to Harsh as she let out a sigh. “Something tells me we should probably ditch the scene before cops and firefighters get here.” 

Of course a hunter kid would know how to make a homemade flamethrower. Not that Harsh was complaining. Hell, he should have been taking notes. He ducked back, staying well clear of the flames. They did the trick, quieting the squeaking a little gruesomely. If he were human, the smell of burning rats probably would’ve turned his stomach. Grimacing at the pile of ash, he nodded. “Yeah, don’t really want to stick around to explain this. C’mon, lets head out the back.. Less questions that way,” he said, already making for the door. It looked like whoever was supposed to be running the store had headed out when the rats made their way in, leaving the back door wide open. Either that or… maybe the rats ate them. Probably better not to think about it. He shot Ariana a grin. “It was cool meeting you. I’ll see you around, yeah? Hopefully… with less killer rat piles next time.”

#wickedswriting #harsh #wolf bat and rat

[distraughtlesbian]

sometimes a family is a scientist, a pyromaniac, a circus strongman, a grieving 12 year old girl, her dead twin sister, a robot, an elderly librarian, a canadian lumberjack with a terrible secret, a mime, an inventor, a valkyrie, a spider boy, a surfer girl, a french chef, a monkey king, a pirate, a pig princess, a sentient bunch of vines, an explorer with an air horn, an architect/engineer with a sick headband, a demon, a merm, and 🤢🤢🤮🤢 m....maxwell 🤮🤮🤢🤢🤮🤮🤢

#don’t starve #dont starve #ds game #don’t starve: reign of giants #rog #don’t starve: shipwrecked #sw #don’t starve: hamlet #wilson p. higgsbury #wilson percival higgsbury #wilson ds #willow ds #wendy carter #wendy ds #abigail carter #abigail ds #abigail dst #wolfgang ds #wolfgang #don’t starve: together #don’t starve together #wx 78 #wx-78 ds #wickerbottom ds #woodie ds #wes ds #wes dst #maxwell carter #william carter

[whitecatindisguise]

Ok, so here goes. How about a lil mashup? (TTS would be modern, to match the other fandoms) Imagine what would happen if Varian travelled to San Fransokyo for some kind of science expo and meets Hiro and Baymax there. There is a robbery at the Expo and Player asks them for help (he already knows Hiro) as it's V.I.L.E.'s doing but Carmen's on another mission somewhere else. I know it's a bit chaotic but I tried to explain idea as good as I could

Okay, took me a while. It might be different from what you imagined, but that's what you get when you ask your sister dearest to write you a story lmao.

------

“Alchemist to Zero. What’s your status?” The communicator in Hiro’s helmet sounded and the boy rolled his eyes.

“I see the target. They are entering the building. Can’t see the cargo, tho.” He replied. “And what’s with the codenames?”

“Because I think it’s unfair only Player gets to have one.” The person on the other side replied and Hiro rolled his eyes again. So childish.

“Because I have to stay anonymous.” Another voice cut in. “And remember this is only for one job. Normally I’d send Red, but she has her hands full in Seul already.”

“Yeah, yeah.” The previous voice dismissed and Hiro could hear the sizzling of acid. “Anyway, I’m in. Let’s get my stuff back and go already. I have an Expo to win.”

“In your dreams, Va- Alchemist.” Hiro corrected himself quickly. No matter what he said about codenames, he didn’t want to risk anyone hearing their real names. “The prize is mine.”

“You wish!” The other replied and Hiro chuckled.

“Guys, work now, bicker later.” Player called with an exasperated huff. “Besides, if I was there, none of you would even stand a chance.”

Hiro decided to leave it at that, opting to focus on the mission instead. He still had no idea why someone would steal Varian’s chemicals, but it was always better safe than sorry.

The Expo was an international science event, when the scientist from all around the globe met in one place to show their latest inventions and fight for the main prize, the title of Scientist of the Year. What was amazing about the Expo, it allowed both adults and teenagers like him, or Varian, compete alongside.

You never know where the genius is hiding, was the Expo’s motto. He and Varian met on the event few years ago, and became quick friends, despite being rivals in the contest.

Varian didn’t live in San Fransokyo. The boy was German and was extremely intelligent. He spoke several languages, English, French and Italian being only few of them, except for his native German. He was into chemistry the most, but also had a knack for engineering.

They often spoke online, comparing their latest inventions, sharing stories and giving advice to one another.

Player, on the other hand, was a mystery. Hiro never saw the guy, but from what he’d learned, he was only a year or two older than himself, and extremely intelligent too. He was a talented hacker who lived in Ontario, Canada, and preferred to stay at home.

He contacted Hiro on the day of the Expo (how he got his phone number, he had no clue) and told him about the upcoming heist happening at the Expo. Apparently, some group called V.I.L.E. was planning to steal some very dangerous chemicals during the event.

Player explained he’d normally didn’t bother uninvolved people, but the chemicals are supposed to be extremely dangerous in wrong hands, and his usual team was busy somewhere else.

A short talk with Honey Lemon confirmed Player’s info, so Hiro decided to help the boy, if only to stop the criminals from doing something really bad. So, imagine his surprise, when the stolen chemicals turned out to belong to Varian.

The German scientist absolutely refused to let Hiro go after the thieves alone, claiming his knowledge of what exactly the chemicals were and how to best contain them will only help him. Player agreed shortly after and Hiro gave the boy a spare communicator, so they can all communicate with no trouble.

Hiro’s scaled down from the building across the street, where he was positioned, and approached the abandoned warehouse the criminals went in. He pushed himself against the wall, stealing a glance through one of the windows.

There were only two people inside, a blonde woman in a tight suit and mask covering her face, and a man dressed like a mime. Quick conversation with Player revealed their names to be Tigress and Mime Bomb respectively.

The woman held out a hand with a suitcase. A quick glance told Hiro it contained the stolen chemicals, as he noticed the moon emblem on the front, which was the symbol Varian used to mark his property.

Hiro peeked out some more, and noticed the said boy crouching behind one of the crates in the warehouse, observing the two. Varian’s hands twitched and Hiro knew they didn’t have much time.

“Don’t do anything stupid, V.” He whispered into the communicator, which only earned him an annoyed huff. God, this was terrible idea to bring him along.

Varian was extremely possessive over his things. Sure, he let people see them, but if you try to even touch them without his consent...

“Va-Alchemist!” He called out more urgently, hoping to stop the boy from doing anything reckless.

Varian had literally no experience with criminals. Hiro met and fought with his fare share, but the German boy was a complete rookie. If he doesn’t do anything now it’s-

Just then it seemed like Varian’s patience finally reached his limit. He jumped from behind the crates with a battle cry, brandishing some colourful balls in each hand, strangely similar-looking to the ones used by Honey Lemon.

“Crap! Player, I’m going in!” Hiro called out and pushed away from the wall, running to the door.

He heard shouts and some explosions from the inside. He pulled the door open and hoped for the best, bursting inside. His eyes felt on the scene in front of him and stopped, dumbfounded.

“Zero, what’s going on there?” Player called out in his ear, but the boy was too shocked to reply. “Hiro!”

“You... just access my helmet camera and see for yourself.” Hiro sounded tired.

He heard fast typing and then a gasp of surprise, which told him Player finally had a visual. And what visual was that.

Mime Bomb was sprawled out on the floor, stuck in some pink goo, looking confused at the ordeal. Tigress was on the other side of the room, stuck to the wall with the same kind of substance, snarling and shouting in anger at someone crouching on the floor.

That someone was Varian, who frantically worked to open the suitcase, his hands trembling in fear. Finally, the lock clicked open and the boy let out a sigh of relief.

“Nothing is broken. Thank the Sun.” He breathed out and closed the suitcase. He picked it up and stood up, staring at the woman glued to the wall. “What were you thinking, throwing it like that?! Don’t you know if any of those broke it would be a disaster?! We could all die!”

“I wouldn’t have to throw it, if you didn’t attack us!” Tigress snarled back angrily and tried to pull herself free. “Who even are you?”

“I’m the one who made those chemicals, you dumbass!” Varian shouted back, not even noticing Hiro standing in the now-open door. “If you steal something, at least learn what to NOT DO with it!”

“Is Varian just... lecturing her?” Player asked. Hiro could almost see his wide-open eyes threatening to fall out of the eye sockets.

“Yup.” He confirmed, staring blankly at the scene.

“Is he normal?” The Canadian sounded shocked. Hiro shrugged.

“Is any of us?” He replied and earned a sigh and a snort in return. “Are the police coming?”

“Oh, yeah. I gave them an anonymous tip few minutes ago, They should be here soon.” Player finally seemed to shook himself awake. “Better leave before they arrive.”

“Sure. Hey, Alchemist!” He called out, sparing the trapped woman another tirade of insults.

Varian turned around and smiled.

“Hey, Zero. Got my stuff!” He raised the hand with the suitcase and waved with the other. “Easy-peasy.”

“Good, ‘cause the police is going to be here soon.” Hiro could already hear the sirens coming closer. “We gotta go.”

“Oh, right!” Without further stalling, Varian ran up to him and they left the two criminals still stuck by the peculiar goo.

They were already several blocks away, when Player finally deemed it safe enough to stop running.

“By the way.” Hiro turned to panting Varian, who rose his head in question. “What’s with the goo?”

“Oh, that?” Varian grinned, showing his bunny teeth and pulled out a pink ball from his pocket. “It’s my own invention. Sticks to everything it touches. I actually came up with it as a more humane way to get rid of the pests back in Old Corona. But it works just as well at stopping idiots from doing more harm than they already did.”

“Nice.” Hiro nodded. “How long does it take to dissolve?”

“Few hours. That is, unless you have a dissolver at hand, which I have right here.” Varian fished out another ball, this time green and cackled. “Serves them right for stealing from me.”

“Remind me to never get on your bad side.” Hiro laughed and shook his head at his friend. “Are we clear to go back to the Expo now, Player?”

“Sure thing. Thanks for the help, guys.” Player replied.

“Oh yeah! Go Team Genius!” Varian laughed and raised a fist in the air.

“We really have to talk about those codenames.” Hiro let out a tired sigh and Player laughed in his ear.

#tts #carmen sandiego #bh6 #tts/cs/bh6 crossover #varian #player #hiro hamada #team genius

[calaarts]

These are my characters for my Fanganronpa: International Despair Vessel that I'm working on

I attempted to draw them all in the Danganronpa style, however it was much too time consuming so here they all are in my style

I'll write a rundown of all the characters below but for now here are all their Ultimate Talents.

Top row

Olivia- Ultimate Potter

Misha- Ultimate Mind Reader

Edda- Ultimate Yodeler

Xavier- Ultimate Butcher

Sun Jung- Ultimate Pet Trainer

Ford- Ultimate Jet Stream Artist

Dario- Ultimate Interior Designer

Bottom Row

Luca - Ultimate Escape Artist

Mikhail- Ultimate Sword Swallowed

Alessandra- Ultimate Antique Restorer

Jubalin- Ultimate Director

Pierre- Ultimate Mime

Ichika- Ultimate Incense "Listener"

Beshadu- Ultimate Florist

And the guy with the pink hair is:

Harper- Ultimate Con Artist (And the protag)

Ok so now for personalities under the cut

Harper- Harpers personality depends on who he's around. Being the Ultimate Con Artist, he's very good at molding himself into what is needed for the situation he's in. He's has great reasoning skills, and can almost he compared to a detective. He's 17 and British.

Olivia- Olivia is quiet and likes to keep to herself and her work. She loves pottery and also admired architecture. She likes to do things hands on. She's 16 and Canadian.

Misha- Misha is 14 and the youngest there. She loves her brother, Mikhail with all her heart and believes he is her protector. She stares very intently at people and her 3rd eye tattoo she believes is the gateway to the soul. She's Russian.

Edda- Edda already has a profile on my page but she's a strong willed warrior type of woman. She never takes not for an answer. She's 17 and swedish.

Xavier- Xavier is socially awkward to the umpteenth degree. He's very skittish and quiet and will do things he doesn't like to avoid conflict. He's 17 and Australian.

Sun Jung- Sun Jung is a happy go lucky 16 year old. She loves animals and does everything with a fiery passion. She always strives to be the best. She's South Korean.

Ford- Ford is a 17 year old American boy who thinks being American is a personality trait. He is loud and sometimes annoying to some, but is always optimistic. He believes that with enough effort anything is possible.

Dario- Dario is a 17 year old Italian boy. He's a stick in the mud and likes for everything to be perfect. What makes him mad is his minor heterochromia. He is sometimes unintentionally rude because he doesn't really express himself

Luca- Luca is a really flamboyant guy. He likes to boast about his ultimate talent, and loves to tests people's limits. He's not so much of a joker as he is a nuisance. He's 16 and Italian.

Mikhail- Mikhail doesn't have much of a personality. He is stotic and quiet, and normally only interacts with his sister unless it's absolutely necessary to talk to someone else. He does enjoy when people call him talented though. He's 17 and Russian.

Alessandra- Alessandra is a peppy, 15 year old, Peruvian Antique Restorer. She loves do drone on about the history of the items she keeps, and she's like an encyclopedia. She doesn't like conflict at all.

Jubalin- Jubalin is kind of a freak. She's the ultimate director, and she shoots documentaries. She thinks that all the horrible things that are happening on the Despair Vessel need to be seen by the world, and its her job as a director to catch it. She spunky and loud. She's also 16 and South African.

Pierre- Pierre is a mime. Need I say more? He's French and 15.

Ichika- Ichika is stuck up and prudish. She believes she is better than everyone else, and that they're all unimportant plebs. She is completely rude and unfriendly. She is 16 and Japanese.

Beshadu- Beshadu is quiet but she loves people. She loves flowers and nature, and she also loves the ocean. She stands up for what she believes in but hates to get physical. She's 15 and Ethiopian.

#fanganronpa #danganronpa fangan #fangan oc #danganronpa oc #danganronpa #oc #ocs #oc art #artists on tumblr #my art #rest of the tags are just my ocs names #Harper #Dario #Xavier #Ford #Ichika

[brookstonalmanac]

Birthdays 3.22

Beer Birthdays

Joseph Straub (1880)

Steve Wellington (1944)

Five Favorite Birthdays

George Benson; jazz guitarist (1941)

Bob Costas; sportscaster (1952)

James T. Kirk; starfleet captain (2233)

William Shatner; actor (1931)

Reese Witherspoon; actor (1976)

Famous Birthdays

Jessie Andrews; porn actor (1992)

Angelo Badalamenti; composer (1937)

Wolf Blitzer; television journalist (1948)

Derek Bok; writer, educator (1930)

Bruno Ganz; actor (1941)

Bill Holman; cartoonist (1903)

Werner Klemperer; actor (1920)

Louis L'Amour; writer (1908)

Karl Malden; actor (1912)

Marcel Marceau; French mime (1923)

Ross Martin; actor (1920)

Chico Marx; actor, comedian (1887)

Robert Millikan; physicist (1868)

Matthew Modine; actor (1959)

Edward Moore; English poet (1712)

Lena Olin; actor (1955)

James Patterson; writer (1947)

Pat Robertson; evangelical nut job, televangelist, religious hypocrite and bigot (1930)

Stephen Sondheim; composer (1930)

Elvis Stojko; Canadian figure skater (1972)

Harry Vanda; rock musician (1947)

Anthony Van Dyck; Flemish artist (1599)

M. Emmet Walsh; actor (1935)

Andrew Lloyd Webber; composer (1948)

Bill Wendell; television announcer (1924)

Wonder Woman; Amazonian (1941)

#Birthdays

[harryandmolly]

Change of Pace - 14 (Summer 2019)

cowritten by @achinglyshawn

summary: Shawn and Maya meet again 10 years after life got in the way of love

warnings: language, NSFW

wc: 10.3k

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

Maya toes her strappy shoes off the moment they’re buckled into the helicopter.  Shawn grins at her. She’s hooked in next to him, but they’ve got enough leeway with their seatbelts that he can maneuver her so she’s turned towards him, legs draped across his lap. 

Maya kicks one of her Louboutins away with a sneer. She loves them, but she conveniently forgets how much they hurt every time she wears them. But they’re worth it.

“So, you think I could borrow this thing in a couple of weeks? I haven’t been to Monte-Carlo in forever.” 

She mimes lifting her knee to drive it into his chest with a snicker. She drops it back in his lap and snuggles into his side. She lifts a hand from her lap and smoothes it down his chest, admiring the way his heat bleeds through the expensive fabric.

“You geek. You’re not going to Monte-Carlo without me anyway,” she jabs back.

“Have you been to Monte-Carlo? I think my French is too Canadian for me to go there,” he babbles as his hands wander up and down her calves. He presses his palms to her ankles before slipping down to her feet, fingers teasing the soles delicately. 

Shawn’s fingers tickle. She squirms, kicking at his hands a little, a giggle rising in her throat until he moves his hands back up toward her ankles. 

“Never been. One of my coworkers spends Christmas there every year. He has a pied a terre there. We’ll go sometime,” she offers with half a smile. She’s relaxed and sleepy enough to delude herself into the delusion of being with him past September. 

Maya sounds half-asleep. He likes it. He likes how cuddly she gets when she fades after dinner, likes that she seems to need to be constantly touching him. Shawn brushes another kiss to the top of her head, just because he can. 

“Glad you know so many rich people whose places we can crash.” 

“God, you’re so warm,” she nearly moans, closing her eyes and nuzzling her face against his chest, “I don’t know how you stand being so warm all the time but it’s very convenient for me.”

Shawn smiles as he looks down at her. “I’ve always been the furnace in my family. S’pretty convenient when some woman steals my jacket.” 

Maya ignores him with a sniff and snuggles into said jacket deeper, playing with the buttons on the sleeves when Shawn grabs her a little tighter. She grins. 

They jolt in their seats for a moment as the helicopter lifts off. Shawn’s fingers dig into her skin slightly as he waits for the craft to steady. 

“Shit,” he breathes, laughing at himself a little. “You ever get used to that?” 

“You do,” she assures, bringing her light fingers up his chest to hang on his collarbone, “I’m happy to distract you though.”

She has a warm, slightly mischievous look on her face, glances between his eyes and his lips.

Shawn is no longer concerned with the rocking tilt of the helicopter. Maya straightens up slightly, pressing herself further into him as she trails her fingers along his torso. He wets his lips, takes a breath. 

“I could use a distraction, sugar,” he murmurs, his gaze falling to her plush mouth. 

Maya shivers. “Sugar” is an odd pet name, it’s not one she’s heard used by anyone under the age of, say, 60. She’s sure if anyone but Shawn tried to call her that, she’d balk. But when he says it, she goes glassy-eyed and is exclusively his. 

Maya watches him look at her mouth and wait for her. He wonders what she’s got up her sleeve. 

She skims her fingers up his shoulder to cup his pretty cheek. She makes a low, contented humming noise and starts pressing sweet little kisses, light pecks to his mouth. Like a butterfly, as soon as she touches down at his mouth, she springs back, only to land again and do the same thing. 

Her kisses are teasing. Gentle presses of her lips she barely let linger. Shawn groans softly, eyes closing as he tries in vain to kiss her back, but she never settles for long enough. He lets her tease him for a bit, but then he grows antsy, just like always. 

His hand finds the back of her head, fingers slipping into her hair as he pulls her firmly against him, pressing his lips properly to hers. The hand that rests on her knee slips up her thigh, fingers teasing the hem of her dress where is lays against her skin. 

Shawn breaks and drags her in for a real kiss before too long, and she’d be lying if she said that wasn’t exactly what she wanted. He gets what he wants from her, gets her arms around his shoulders and her body tightening in response to his attentions. 

His hand feels big and hot on her leg. She tries not to wiggle just to get it to slip up higher to where she’s already feeling more heat.

“Can’t wait to get home, Lu,” he murmurs against her lips when he needs to take a breath. He doesn’t give her the chance to reply before he’s kissing her again, stealing the air from her lungs. His fingers flirt dangerously with the silky smooth fabric of her dress. He could easily slip his hand beneath her dress, could press his fingers to the apex of her thighs and drive her crazy. He doesn’t. He focuses on teasing her, working her up with nothing but his needy mouth. 

Maya whimpers at his words, opens her mouth to respond but doesn’t have time before he’s diving back in to kiss her eagerly. She melts into him, dragging her tongue against his lower lip to seek him out, wanting to feel as close as possible as soon as possible.

When he gives her another break to breathe she doesn’t take it, fastening her lips to his jaw and groaning into his skin.

“Yeah?” she answers finally to his husky confession, “What are you gonna do, baby? What do you want when we get home?”

Her mouth has him groaning, a low sound that has his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. 

Her voice teases him, raspy and hot in his ear. He takes a steadying breath through his nose, licking at his lips as she keeps herself busy on his jaw. 

“Want you to take off this dress for me,” he murmurs as he tugs at the hem. He slips his fingers beneath it and slides them along her thigh, her quad muscle jumping beneath his touch. 

“And I want you to show me the best way to make you feel good, Lu.” 

Maya nips sharply at his throat. His fingers are flirtatious, a reminder that he knows better than anyone how to make her feel good. But he’s always eager to learn more, to do exactly what she wants, even if she doesn’t know she wants it.

Maya pulls away to his lips, rewarding him with a kiss. She pulls back a little and smoothes a hand through his hair, tugging slightly at the end.

“So good for me,” she praises, a little moan in her throat as she says it, “Gonna do exactly what I tell you, baby?”

His eyes fall shut when her hand tangles in his hair. She tugs. He grunts. His fingers dig into her skin. 

“Shit--” he hisses, then swallows whatever else was threatening to spill at the sound of her husky voice. 

“Yea--” he clears his throat, “Yeah, sweetie, fuck. You know I will.” He blinks his eyes open, wetting his lips and focusing his hazy gaze on her. He nudges his head gently into her hand, giving her a crooked, dulcet smile as he pulls his hand from beneath her dress. 

Maya smiles. She knows he will. She remembers from the first time they messed around, all those many years ago on a cold night in Toronto, he put her in the driver’s seat immediately. He wanted her to direct her own pleasure and show him exactly how to please her best.

Needless to say, he learned fast. But he still wants more. She’s willing to instruct.

“Don’t I always?” he purrs, his brow quirked.

Maya grunts gently and hauls his heavy hand back up under her dress a little higher up her thigh, brows puckering slightly. 

“Always,” she promises, “Keep touching me, baby.”

Maya tilts her head to take his lips back when an official-sounding voice, the pilot, chirps over the speaker that they’re landing shortly. Maya purses her lips and backs away with a sigh. 

He wants to listen to her, wants to slide his hand between the soft swells of her thighs and press his fingers to her pussy beneath her panties. The pilot interrupts, pops the romantic bubble around them and pulls them back to the real world. 

Maya leans away from him with a sigh, but her long legs remain draped over his lap. Shawn hums, closing his eyes and dropping his head back. 

He drags his hand slowly along Maya’s shin, from her knee to her ankle, then back again, as the helicopter nears Avila. His head lulls and he looks over at her. He smiles. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, giving her ankle a squeeze. 

Shawn doesn’t release her. He strokes her legs like a promise for later. He gets quiet, shifting gently as they settle.

“Hi,” Maya breathes, smiling warmly, reaching out to stroke the backs of her fingers against his flushed cheek.

She gets to take him home tonight. She gets to make love to him. She gets to fall very heavily asleep next to him. She gets to wake up under his hefty arm with his breath in her hair.

“I kinda can’t believe I found you again,” she admits. She’s been thinking that lately, that somehow both of them wound up back in that place they spent one brief summer together. Neither of them knew the other would be there. But the memory of them is there.

Shawn can’t control the flush that starts in the apple of his cheeks and spreads across his entire body. He smiles a little, closes his eyes and presses his face into her gentle fingers. After a beat, he reaches for her wrist, bringing her hand to his lips. 

He looks at her as he presses a kiss into her palm. He murmurs, “Of all the gin joints, baby.” 

The helicopter lands with a jolt. Shawn’s fingers unconsciously tighten around Maya’s wrist, his eyes slipping shut. 

“Damn,” he sighs when he feels the chopper settle. With a sheepish smile, Shawn places Maya’s hand back in her lap and begins to fumble with his seatbelt. 

Maya doesn’t laugh at Shawn when he startles a little during the landing. She just lets him hold her hand until they’re firmly on the ground, holding his gaze comfortingly.

They depart the helicopter with handshakes and thank yous for the pilot. Maya, with her strappy sandals swinging from one hand and Shawn’s fingers grasped in the other, sighs contentedly on the way back to the Wrangler.

The engine of the obscenely orange Jeep roars to life along with an old 80s pop song on the radio that she doesn’t recognize. She looks over at Shawn and feels so completely, totally at home. She leans across the gearshift with her foot on the brake and kisses him, murmuring into his mouth.

He’s watching her as she starts the Wrangler. He doesn’t mean to stare; it just happens. He expects her to speed off like she always does, but instead she looks at him and for a moment, he feels like he’s been caught. 

She kisses him, slow and soft and like she has to remind herself like he’s really there. Shawn knows the feeling. He hums, kisses her back with fingertips brushing her cheek.

“Let’s go home, sugar,” he croaks against her lips after a moment, nudging her nose with his. He gives her a crooked smile and drops his hand to rest over hers on the gearshift. 

Maya watches his wet lips as he pulls away. They pull into that smile that she’s run into fire for. His hand is rough and heavy on hers. She hums in agreement.

The drive is mercifully short because Avila is so tiny you could fold it up and stick it in your back pocket. Her neighborhood is quiet. The loudest sound they hear when she turns off the engine is the ocean on the other side of the house lapping at the shore.

On the drive, Maya’s nerves, dulled by fine food, alcohol and soft, sweet kisses, get fired back up again. Her heart starts thrumming a little faster with every minute they draw closer to her house. The house he refers to lovingly now as “home.”

When she parks, she glances over at him and wonders if he’s feeling as keyed up as she is, if it’s as oddly automatic for him. She blinks and wets her lips, watching him carefully as she opens her car door. 

Shawn slides out of the car with Maya’s heels hanging from his fingers. He goes around to her side of the Jeep, reaching over her as she hops down to close the door with a smile. He takes her hand then, pulls her knuckles to his lips for a brief moment before guiding her to the door. 

He looks out at the beach while Maya flips through her keys to open the door. He tries not to let himself watch her too much. It feels indulgent, like maybe he still shouldn’t be this crazed about her. He’s older, wiser, and maybe a little jaded. But not about Maya. 

Shawn hears the door click open. He turns from the horizon to see Maya disappear inside. He takes a breath, fills his chest, and follows after her. 

The house feels so silent. She can sort of hear the very quiet expensive central air. She can hear her heartbeat in her ears. She can hear him breathing, maybe a little faster than usual, or maybe it’s her imagination. 

Maya sets her keys down on the counter, glancing over her shoulder at him. He’s watching her. He’s been watching her all night. 

Maya turns, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip. She reaches out with both hands, linking their fingers. She starts to walk backwards toward the steps to her bedroom. 

“Come with me,” she murmurs, even though he’s already following her. 

“Okay,” he says with a nod, voice raspy. 

Maya turns to face the stairs, their fingers tangled behind her as she guides him to her bedroom. He keeps close, close enough to smell her shampoo and the sunscreen scented perfume on her neck. 

Shawn closes the bedroom door behind him, dropping Maya’s fingers he leans against it, hands sliding into his pockets. He toes his shoes off, kicking them away as he watches her unclip her hair from across the room. 

For some reason, he doesn’t know what to say. He’s nervous, suddenly, like he has to tread carefully around her. Like if he moves too quickly, he’ll spook her. 

He loosens the tie around his neck, wetting his lips as he focuses on the steady cadence of his own breathing. 

Maya faces away from him again and feels her skin glow as he stares at her. She lets her hair fall from its enormous clip, flinching slightly when she hears him kick his shoes away like a teenager. 

She closes her eyes for a moment to center herself. When she opens them, she can see the ocean out her window. 

“Shawn,” she says, firm but quiet, “Will you come undress me?”

She turns to face him, ready to help him give her what she wants. 

He blinks, pulled from his reverie. She doesn’t turn to face him until a moment later, her head tipping as she gazes at him. 

“Absolutely,” he breathes, voice low, choked off in the base of his throat. His feet move before he realizes, but then he’s there, looking down at her while she waits for him. 

He reaches for her. His fingers brush her temple, tucking a stray curl of hair behind her ear. He smiles, then disappears behind her. 

His fingers are quick on her zipper, sliding it smoothly down towards the swell of her behind. He drops the zip delicately, then presses his palm to her hip, waiting. 

Shawn is gentle but quick to get her dress unzipped. She inhales when his fingers brush her bare skin just above the waistband of her lacy thong and dance away to rest on her hip. 

Maya smiles, shaking her head a little. She turns, feeling the hand that was on her hip skim over to rest on the opposite side. She lifts both his hands to her arms where the straps of her dress fit snugly around her biceps. 

“All the way off,” she requests. Her voice is soft and affectionate. She just wants to feel him feel her. 

Shawn breathes in steadily through his nose. He feels like he’s on fire. Her eyes are wide, expecting. He feels so overwhelmingly close to her right now, with her request hanging between them. 

“Of course,” he murmurs, gaze dropping to her collarbones. He curls his finger under the smooth straps of fabric that wrap around her arms. Slowly, he pulls one towards her elbow, then the other, until the bodice of the dress falls away from her chest. 

Shawn’s eyes drop to her tits, but only briefly. He looks back to her arms, carefully pulling one from the strappy sleeve, then the other. The dress bunches around her hips. His hands find her waist. He pushes his fingers between her skin and the dress, tugging it away from her body. 

He curls his hands around the fabric. Slowly, one knee falls to the floor, then the other. He kneels before her, watches the rise and fall in her belly as he carefully peels the expensive garment down her legs. 

Maya watches him savor her, admiring each part of her as it becomes available to him. It’s not salacious or hungry, it’s closer to reverent. It makes Maya’s pulse skip a little faster. She bets he can feel it through her hot skin. 

Maya’s in awe as he drops to his knees. She sucks in a breath, holding back a pathetic whimper. The fabric skims her legs as he drags it down. She anchors her hand against his shoulder as she steps out of it. When she’s shed it on the floor, she threads her hand into the curls behind his ear and strokes them.

“Will you take off my panties for me?” she breathes and it’s barely audible through the thickness in her throat.

Shawn’s eyes fall shut when her fingers tease behind his ear. His heart skips, heat flooding his cheeks. His hands find the front of her thighs, palms pressing into her quad muscles, just above her knee. He’s able to look at her after a moment, gazing up as he nods. 

“Yeah, Maya.” He hears his voice in his ears, but it sounds foreign; distant. He clears his throat, drags his hands from her legs to her hips, fingers hooking in the lace he finds there. 

He carefully peels the fabric away, down her legs and to her ankles. He focuses on his own hands as he goes, orienting himself to the task at hand, rather than the beautiful woman in front of him. 

Once she steps out of the little thong, he lets himself look. He keeps his hands to himself, palms pressed to his knees as he sits back on his heels. His gaze starts at her toes and moves up, up, and up. She looks the same as always, but it fucks him up every time. He’s so goddamn in love with her. 

He ends on her face, flushed and glowing in the moonlight. He lifts up from his heels, curling one hand around her waist. 

Shawn’s eyes drag goosebumps over her body in a rough, even layer as they ascend from her toes up. She fights a shiver, curls her fingers into her palms and lets out a rough breath of air.

“God, the way you look at me…” She trails off weakly, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

He plants a hand against her body like he can’t stand not to be touching her. She understands the feeling.

Maya slowly lifts her hair off the side of her neck, tucking it over the opposite shoulder as she holds his gaze. She tilts her head and offers herself to him, throat bobbing when she swallows.

“Stand up and kiss my neck.” The words are firm, but still somehow sweet and pleading even though she knows he’ll give her everything she wants.

Shawn’s fingers press firmly into her skin momentarily, needing to ground himself before he stands up. He towers over her, has to curl his spine and hang his head to reach her neck. Not that he minds. 

One hand finds the back of her skull, cupping her as he brings his lips to her soft skin. He hums against her, slowly mouthing along the column of her throat with kisses that are barely there. 

He pulls away just beneath her earlobe, wets his lips, then returns to work. This time his kisses are firm, lips slightly parted as the tip of his tongue slips against her skin. 

He takes a step into her, anchoring his mouth on the junction of her neck and her shoulder while pressing his hips against hers. Even though he wants to, he doesn’t let himself moan, instead holds the growing noise in his chest as he tongues her soft skin. 

He takes his time working her up, going from ghosting his lips on her skin to letting her feel him all over. 

Maya wraps her arms around him, planting her hands on his ass to urge him even closer. She starts to pant at the attentions of his lips. He’s gentle but purposeful. 

She flutters her lashes and chokes on a breath. “And touch my nipples.”

He grunts into her neck at the words. He feels his pants tighten, his cock giving a twitch. He loves when she knows what she wants. Loves when she’s not afraid to ask for it. He can tell she’s trying to hold on to control, but each subsequent request sounds less like a command and more like a plea. 

His voice is stuck in his throat, so he doesn’t reply. He simply turns her in his arms so her hands fall from his backside. With her back to his chest, his hips are firm against her ass. His needy hands soon find their way from her hips to her round tits.

Shawn’s mouth is steady on her neck, but rather than get lost in her taste, he watches as he plays with her nipples. It’s a titillating sight, his forefingers and thumbs plucking her brown, dusky peaks. 

Maya’s head tips back onto Shawn’s shoulder. His perfect hands feel huge. They slide up her torso to scoop up her breasts. Her eyes close.

She breathes, “My god.”

He doesn’t pull away from her neck. He continues lavishing her skin with warm, sucking kisses just like she asked him to. His touch is light and focused on his nipples. It makes her knees weak. She reaches one hand up to cup the back of his neck for stability and wraps the other around his wrist like she wants to hold him there even though he doesn’t seem like he wants to move.

Hot, heavy breaths fan across her neck as Shawn keeps his gaze steady on his fingers. He tugs lightly, then drops one nipple so he can suck his fingers between his lips, getting the tips wet. He brings them back to her then, circling her stiff bud with torturously light pressure. 

“Baby, yes, that’s perfect,” she pants, knowing he feeds off the praise. Her head is too foggy to remember that she doesn’t have another piece of instruction ready to feed him. She just sighs his name and arches her back into his hands so he can have all of her.

Maya doesn’t give him any further direction. She melts into him, purrs with adulation. He sighs softly into her skin, his cock twitching against her ass. The sound of her voice sends a shiver down his spine, all the way to his toes. 

“Know what you like, sugar,” he mutters, giving each nipple another tug before he drops his lips to her collarbone and sucks. He doesn’t know what she wants next, but he does know that he could get carried away with this. 

Shawn tweaks and teases her nipples until they’re flushed and swollen, matching the flush he’s left on her throat. Satisfied, he surrenders her breasts and claims her hips instead, palms pressing down as he grinds his cock into her ass. 

Maya lets him wander off without her direction. He mouths at her shoulder and continues stroking, pinching, teasing her nipples until just before she’s too sensitive to take any more. He knows her body like he knows guitars. 

His hands drop to her hips for leverage as he grinds needily into her backside. She grunts gently, nudged out of her trance. She hums, wriggling back against him with gently gasping breaths. 

She turns, looking him up and down hungrily. She lifts onto her toes and cups his cheek just long enough to give him a quick kiss before she’s down at chest height again, running her fingers along the buttoned down collar of his shirt. 

“Gonna stay nice and still for me while I take your clothes off?” she murmurs, tugging at the loose tie around his neck, lifting her eyebrows. 

She decides to start pulling at the knot before he answers. 

She’s already plucking at his tie before he can find his voice to answer. Shawn nods, curling his fingers into his palms to stop himself from reaching for her. 

“I’ll try,” he says with a quiet smile, tilting his head as he looks down at her. “Shame to take this thing off though. Feel like I should wear it all the time now.” 

His grin gets a little wider as he tips his head back, giving her a bit more room to navigate the intricate knot of his tie. He almost reaches for her again, almost curls his arm around her waist and lifts her to his chest so he can kiss the hell out of her. It’s an impulse that has his fingertips twitching. 

Maya continues fiddling with the tie until it hangs loose around his neck. She stares at the triangle of throat she’s uncovered, breathing heavily for a few moments while she considers.

She looks up at him, cooing from the back of her throat when she gets an idea. She picks up his hands, limp at his sides, and scoops them under the curve of her ass. She swings her arms up around his neck with a glint in her eye.

“Maybe you should keep it on then and take me while you’re wearing it.”

Maya’s smile is sharp, playful but a little devious. She giggles, tugs at the curls on the nape of his neck.

Shawn’s fingers sink into the soft swell of her ass. He growls at her suggestion. He knew she liked him in the suit, but Jesus Christ. 

His eyes flutter shut when she tugs his hair. 

“Bring me to the bed, baby.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, “Okay. Whatever you want, Lu.” 

He blinks down at her, eyes hazy with want as he bends his knees and slides his hands to her thighs, lifting her up so she’ll wrap herself around him. 

He carries her to the bed, stops at the foot to bring his knee to the mattress. He steadies himself, then carefully lowers her down. 

Maya eagerly tucks her legs around Shawn’s waist and melts into him a little when he lifts her. She’ll never get tired of this, of the way he can just scoop her up and carry her places, even if it’s only a few feet to the bed. It’s so romantic and trademark Shawn.

He lays her down gently beneath him and, like the good boy that he is, waits for further instruction. Maya’s sensitive nipples brush against the smooth fabric of his shirt. She opens her thighs for him to lie between so she can feel his weight against her, and so he can feel how ready she is for more of him.

Shawn sighs, relaxing his weight on top of her. He knows she likes it, likes to feel him heavy against her while he rocks his hips into hers. 

“Gonna let you choose,” she pants in a whisper, hearing the fucked-out quality of her voice, “Do you want to taste me? Or do you want to fuck me?”

The truth is, she’s almost beyond choosing. She just wants to feel him.

Maya’s nearly panting already, her voice breathy in his ear. He groans, pressing his face into her neck as he lets one hand skim the side of her body. 

He doesn’t like making this choice. He wants both, like he always does. 

He guesses he could always negotiate for whichever he doesn’t choose while she’s orgasm-heavy and extra needy. 

He lifts from her neck, noses at her cheek. “Let me make love to you, Lemon,” he purrs, emphasizing his words with a tempting roll of his hips.

Maya tries to keep her mouth from straight up dropping open. But she hears the strangled moaning noise she makes and knows for certain he knows how she feels about his suggestion.

She closes her eyes, nodding furiously, tugging harder at his hair, wrapping the little curls around her fingers to show her urgency.

“Yeah,” she gasps finally, like she was underwater and is coming up for air, “Yeah. I want you to. Please. That’s what I want. Make love to me, Shawn.”

Saying the words out loud is scary. She wonders if he’s going to blink, look down at her and say, “But you haven’t said you love me.” She thinks maybe he’ll get up and leave her because she’s afraid she deserves it. She hopes he stays. 

She sounds desperate for it, like it’s what she’s been waiting for him to give her all along. Shawn knows it’s just in his head, knows they needed the time to reach this point. 

But right now, with Maya panting beneath him, it feels like they’ve been this in sync all along, even if they didn’t know it. He flushes, presses his lips firmly to her jaw.

“S’the least I can do, sugar,” he murmurs, corner of his lips ticking up into a smile. 

He pushes himself up onto a knee, his palm pressing into the mattress by her head as he trails his other hand down her body. His fingers slip between her thighs, the slide easy from her arousal. She’s always gotten herself worked up easily. The anticipation makes her drip. His cock twitches sympathetically. 

He stays.

He smiles at her in the way only he ever has. He kisses her jaw and slides his hand up her leg to find all his work already done. She chuckles, dropping her arms over her head to frame her pretty hair all spread out beneath her. 

“You already got me so fucking wet, Shawn,” she tells him, her voice deep and husky and a little less desperate. He makes her feel secure. He wants to give her what she wants.

He smirks, hot gaze dropping down to her thighs. He sees a glimmer of wetness, but he needs a better look. His palm cups the inside of her thigh, nudges her to spread her legs wider. 

She goes easily, splays herself open like she’s never been more comfortable with him, and Shawn has to suck in a quiet breath to control himself. Her skin glistens in the moonlight, slick from her pussy. 

Shawn urges her legs apart gently. She rolls her hips a little to show him how ready she is to feel him. Her toes curl against the sheets. She watches his cock shift against the straining fabric of his pants. Her head lolls back. She sighs.

He grunts, slipping his hand from her thigh so her can cup her sex. She’s wet and hot against his palm, and the sensation has his dick twitching in his tailored pants. 

“Jesus, Maya,” he growls, rocking the heel of his hand against her clit. “Barely touched you and you’re this worked up? Need me that bad?” 

When he drops his hand to her cunt, she grabs onto his wrist and grinds down into his stroking motion, taking what she needs. She moans, loud and whiny, because what she needs is him.

“Mmm, you know your hands on my tits drive me crazy, baby. And, god, the idea of fucking you in that suit…”

She rubs a hand over her face and gives a particularly sharp roll of her hips into his hand, hissing quietly.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

Shawn laughs, gruff and deep in his throat. He rocks his palm against her pussy once more, clicking his tongue. “No, Lemon. S’my job to make you feel good.” 

Not that she won’t make him feel good. She’ll make him feel fucking incredible. But he wants her to lie back and relax, wants her to take her turn at getting spoiled. 

Maya’s words die in her throat. If he wants to spoil her, she’s not very well going to stop him. She just, she already feels so spoiled just from taking him out tonight, from having him on her arm, from getting to be so close for hours. 

She can’t imagine feeling more spoiled. But then again, Shawn’s always able to surprise her. 

He tucks his face into her neck, nipping at her skin just above her collarbone. He moves his palm from her slick heat so he can get his fingers on her instead. Slowly, he swirls the tip of his middle finger around her entrance, before dragging it up to her twitching clit. He flicks her just as his tongue darts out to lick a hot stripe along the column of her throat. 

“Wanna feel my fingers first, sugar?” 

Maya drops her legs open further at the fluttering of his fingers. She swallows, trying to regain composure, but his tongue on her neck has her coming undone. 

“Mhmm,” she moans, “Yeah, touch my clit.”

Maya’s practically melting into the bed as she writhes beneath his touch. Shawn lifts his head, smiles gently as he gazes down at her. Her hair makes a messy halo around her head while her back arches, her legs spreading even more as she tries to get what she wants from him. 

“Like this?” he purrs in a teasing coo, carefully brushing the pad of his middle finger across her swollen bud. The pressure is barely there, just enough to have her thighs clenching and hips pressing up for more. 

He gives her another pass of his finger, then lets his nail scrape over her nerves, right where she’s most sensitive. He does it once, twice, thrice, then presses his knuckle firmly down against her. 

Maya’s brow wrinkles like she’s about to start scolding him for trying to tease her when she’s this far gone. But he doesn’t keep it up. He rakes his fingernail over her bare clit and it makes her twitch hard, chest rising off the bed as she reacts to the stimulus. 

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck,” she growls, fingers ripping at the sheets. She settles just a little when he rocks his hard knuckle into her clit. 

She opens her eyes, blinking at him desperately. “Please. Please, Shawn.”

She doesn’t even know what to ask for. She just wants him to hand it over. 

Shawn loves how utterly and completely unabashed she is as she curses and begs and scrabbles at the bed sheets. His finger slides from her clit to her tight entrance, and he delicately pushes the tip inside. 

“This what you want, sugar?” he murmurs, presses a series of kisses to her cheek as he sinks  deeper into her pussy, curling slightly so he can drag the tip across her g-spot. 

He knows she won’t put up with much teasing and quickly slides a second finger inside of her, using it to tap at her spot while the other glides back and forth. 

Shawn is slow with her, not so much careful as just measured and teasing. He’s not proceeding with caution to figure out what she wants. He already knows. He just doesn’t want to give it all at once. He wants to make it last, watch her unravel. 

Maya lifts her chin and whines, quiet and throaty at the slipping of his thick fingers. Her g-spot is his favorite playground. He’s experimenting with a stroking, tapping motion that has her thighs already shaking. She turns her face to the side and squeezes her legs around him.

“I know you like my cock better, hm? Want my cock, Maya? Need you to tell me.”

“You know I do,” she gasps, shaking her head, “Know I love your cock. I want it so bad. Want you to fill me. Feels so good having you inside me. Never want to let you go.”

If it’s a step too far, she doesn’t care. Not now anyway. 

‘Then don’t,’ he almost chokes, but he knows that’s not really an option. He knows their summer romance has an expiration date. He knows he has to make the most of the time he actually has with her. 

Instead, he drops his head and kisses her, stealing the air from her lungs. He slips out of her aching pussy and brings his slippery fingers to the zip of his pants. He fumbles, then finally gets his fly open before he flicks the button. 

Maya doesn’t bother to protest when he takes his fingers back and kisses her. She knows she’s going to get something even better. She rocks her ass into the mattress just thinking about it.

Maya’s own hungry fingers trail up the firm heft of his arms until he releases her mouth. She sighs, shivering at the sound of his zipper dropping. She closes her eyes, waits for him to ease into her like she wants. She curls her fingers into his arms in anticipation.

Their lips separate with a ‘pop’, an obscene sound that gets his cock throbbing. He brings his wet fingers to her mouth, traces her full bottom lip slowly, coaxing her to open up for him. 

“You wanna taste yourself? Taste so good, baby.” 

His fingers are wet and smell of sex. She opens her eyes and mouth at once, accepting them with a little moan. She closes her lips around them, swirling her tongue and soaking them further. Her taste is sweet, musky and a little salty. Her eyes flutter. She sucks eagerly like she would at his cock.

“Oh, fuck,” Shawn growls as she sucks his fingers greedily. He noses at her cheek while her tongue has goosebumps prickling his skin. 

Her hands drop from his arms to his legs, smoothing up the insides of his thighs. She finds his length hard and throbbing against his leg. She gives it a firm squeeze, then dips her hand inside his briefs to pull him free, squeezing her little hand around the head and massaging his slit with her thumb.

His eyes fall shut when Maya’s hand makes its way down his body. She has no trouble finding his dick, slips him from his briefs with little to no hassle. 

“Jesus, Maya,” he croaks, pulling away from her cheek so he can watch her thumb tease the head of his cock. “Gonna tease me or are you gonna spread your thighs again?” 

He reaches for her waist, thumb rubbing soothing circles over the jut of her hip bone as he looks at her, gaze heated. 

Maya loves the way he reacts to her fervent sucking at his fingers. It’s one of the things she can do that always gets him absolutely crazy for her. It’s always been one of her favorite things to do for him.

She lets them go with a wet slide of her mouth and a hum to tickle them. She breathes hard, nodding at him, squeezing his tip again.

“You know how bad I want you, honey,” she replies, voice smooth and hot like she’s trying to melt him. She spreads her legs slowly, pulling them off the sides of his waist, leveling him with her gaze.

“Wanna show me how much you love me?”

It’s a challenge and dare. It drives Shawn crazy. She wants him to love her. He thinks could get addicted to the feeling. 

He looks from her wet fingers to her dark, focused eyes. 

“Don’t I always?” he breathes, then catches her lips in a kiss as he knocks her fingers away from his dick.

His palm finds her slick thigh, presses down to keep her spread open as he shifts over her. He licks into her mouth just as he lowers his hips and sinks the head of his cock into her tight pussy. 

Shawn doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t hesitate, he doesn’t show any hurt in his eyes if he feels it. He just kisses her hard and sets about doing what she asked.

Maya lets him move her hand and pin her to the bed, slowly letting the tip of his dick spread her swollen lips and enter her. She keens, swiping her tongue against his lower lip and pushing inside without waiting. She wraps her arms around his neck. 

When she really can’t breathe, she tilts her head to the side and sighs, inhaling at his collarbone, basking in the smell and feel of him.

“Yeah,” she purrs, “More, Shawn.”

He all but falls into her. He’s barely inside her as she’s kissing him back like she’s about to come. He bites at her lip, though more to get a hold of himself than to calm her. 

His forehead drops to her temple when she turns from their kiss to gasp for a breath. He groans, fingers curling into her flushed thigh as she asks for more. 

“Maybe—“ he pants, smirking into her cheek, “Maybe if you ask nicely.” 

He hates denying her, but he loves the payoff when he doesn’t give into her right away. It’s always sweeter when they’re able to control themselves. Shawn steels himself to stay strong, even as his cock twitches in the tight clench of her heat. 

They both feel like they’re holding on by a thread. Maya grips Shawn’s neck like her life depends on it. Shawn sinks his teeth into her lip like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered. 

His words manage to ground her though. She groans, knowing she has to make a choice. She could beg for him like he clearly wants. She could try to egg it out of him, massaging his cock with her hot walls until he snaps, or she could be a brat and pout about it. 

Her head swims with memories of all the times she’s taken all the paths before her at different opportunities with him. All she knows is she wants to be sure that there are even more awaiting her when they finish here tonight. 

Maya turns her face back, nose bumping his as he stays close to her. She sucks his lower lip into her mouth, lifting a hand to secure against his chest. She lifts her hips and rocks into him only suggestively, not enough to be greedy. 

She releases his swollen lip with a pop and a little kitten lick. 

She doesn’t answer at first, just pulls his lip into her mouth for a searing kiss. He growls, lets her lick and suck at him until he’s swollen and dizzy. 

She pulls away just as he starts to kiss back, reminding him that there’s more important business to attend to. 

“You know you’re the best I’ve ever had?” she says earnestly, digging her fingertips into the wrinkled fabric of his shirt just over his heartbeat, “Please, baby. Please give me more. I need you.”

“Shit, Maya,” he murmurs at the compliment, glancing down at the fingers scrabbling at his shirt. He reaches for her wrist, pulls her arm over her head to pin her to the bed as she begs for him. 

“I need you, too, sugar,” he purrs, nudging her nose with his as he finally complies with her wishes and sinks his cock deeper into her cunt, until he’s buried to the hilt. 

Shawn gives them both what they want. His strong fingers pin her little wrist to the bed above her head and he shakes her whole body with his low gravelly voice when he slides into her fully. 

Maya sighs, the pressure he fills her with releasing her breath, releasing any tension in her body. She takes him easily, scoops a leg up to hitch over his hip slightly, hugging him in. 

“Perfect,” she coos, like she doesn’t need any more. Like even if he just stays here all night with her, hard cock buried as deep as anyone’s ever gone, she’ll be perfectly content. 

“You like filling me up? You like feeling how well I take your perfect cock? How I beg for it?”

Maya always gets wordy when he gives her what she wants. She knows he likes the fucked-out quality of her voice when she mews for him like that. He nips at her lip in response, then drags his mouth along her jaw until he reaches her ear. He licks slowly at the shell as his hips start to grind into hers, his cock stretching her. 

Maya feels the way her body soaks his with every slow, grinding rock of his hips. She takes them eagerly, rolling back at him to make the stretch even greater, even sweeter. His tongue on her ear has her gasping and slipping her fingers up to massage his scalp.

“You know I do,” he murmurs, fingers tightening around her wrist, “You know I think you’re fucking perfect.” 

She can’t see his face when he calls her perfect. She rasps from deep in her chest, it’s a wet scratching sound that sounds like the beginning of tears. She slams her eyes shut and lets him tilt his hips to crack her open with pleasure.

Shawn digs his knee into the bed, pressing his thigh into the back of Maya’s where it’s hooked around his waist. He gets a better angle this way, able to graze her g-spot with the tip of his dick through each slow grind of his hips. He grunts softly in her ear as the sensation of her slick walls clenching around him, stretching and squeezing simultaneously. 

“Right there, right there, right there,” she chants, even though he knows. She knows he knows. Even if he didn’t have the extensive experience with her body, the way it hugs around him now would tell him. 

“Fuck, May--” he chokes, burying his nose in her hair, “So good for me, baby. Always feel so fucking good.” 

He snuggles into her hair. She continues stroking his scalp. She turns her head to kiss his cheek.

“Love being good for you. Always want to be good for you.”

The garbled moan she lets out at his admission catches him off guard, has him groaning into her cheek as he fucks her a little harder, a little faster. His hand falls from her wrist so he can grip her ass to pull her tighter into his rocking hips. 

“Always are, baby, always so damn good. So-- so-- shit-- No one like you, Lu, no one.” 

He’s babbling into her ear, panting desperately as she soaks his cock. His fingers dig into her ass, getting more leverage for his increasing speed. He drops his head to look down between them, watching the way her pussy stretches around him. She’s fucking soaking him, probably ruining the stupidly expensive pants he can’t believe he’s still wearing, and it’s drives him kind of crazy. 

With Maya’s newly freed hand, she wraps it under his arm to grip his back and let him have her. He snaps his hips harder and faster and it only makes her wetter. The way her body responds to him is unbelievable. 

He’s probably leaving bruises in her ass. She doesn’t mind. She’s already marked him up just about everywhere from all the passionate sex they’ve been having over the last few weeks. A few more marks doesn’t make any difference. 

He laughs gruffly into her collarbone, still focused on the way she’s dripping all over both of them. “M’gonna have to take these pants to the dry cleaner cause of you, sugar.”  

Maya laughs back, a choked sound broken up by his rough thrusts. She tugs at his hair playfully.

“Totally worth it though,” she pants, “Being with you like this… it’s so hot.”

She punctuates her thought with a rough squeeze of his cock and a smirk.

He beams down at her, lips quirked slightly. She then catches him off guard, his eyes shutting when she tightens around his dick. 

“Super fuckin’ hot,” he growls, hand slipping from her ass to grip the back of her thigh, pushing it up towards her chest so he can hook her calf over his shoulder. He presses his other hand into the mattress, just beside her head, fingers tangled in her hair where it’s splayed across the sheets. 

He pushes himself up onto his knees, tilting his hips to get a better angle on her g-spot. He groans when she twitches, knowing he’s found the right one. 

Maya watches him lift her leg over his shoulder and shift accordingly, but her eyes fall shut when he strokes back into her.

“Oh god, Shawn,” she cries, her voice breaking into a wail.

He’s jerking into her g-spot with every thrust. Her pussy is squelching. As much as she’d love to hold on, she can’t make it much longer. She tries to ground herself, focusing in on the way his curls feel in her fingers, on the rough brush of his clothes against her skin, on the brightness of his eyes while he watches her. It only gets her that much closer.

Shawn turns to press a kiss to Maya’s ankle, fingers gliding along the front of her thigh. He snaps his hips a little faster, breathing heavily into to the soft skin of her calf. 

Her breath quivers at the touch of his lips to her ankle. She whimpers gently and surrenders to the feeling.

“Baby,” she pleads, “Gonna come. I’m gonna come. Tell-- tell me you love me. Please.”

Shawn is powerless. His heart lurches into his throat, stomach twisting, cock throbbing. He’s so utterly fucked for her. He knows she’s close to coming, only ever is this mushy when she’s about to come but he doesn’t care. He’ll give her anything she wants. 

He collapses back down onto his forearm, her leg slipping from his shoulder and into the crook of his elbow as he presses his forehead to hers. 

“M’so in love with you, Lu, fuck--” he grunts, eyes slipping shut for a moment, “You--” he opens his eyes, nudging her nose with his, “You know that.” 

He kisses her then, his hips stilling with his cock buried deep inside of her pussy as his hand falls to the apex of her thighs, fingers seeking out her clit. 

She can think later about how unfair it was to ask of him since they both knew she wasn’t going to say it back. She can think later about the almost hopeless way he murmurs it to her, like he knows it’ll hurt but he’ll do it anyway for her. She can’t think now.

Shawn kisses her, hot but somehow still soft. Maybe she just imagines it. But it feels like he’s telling her again silently, showing her.

“C’mon,” he growls, snapping his hips once. His fingers quickly circle her clit. “Come for me, Maya.” 

Her back arches as soon as his fingers slip down her stomach. It takes only a few small flicks at her swollen bud to kickstart her orgasm, radiating out from her center as she moans once, loud and long, pressing up into him, head falling back.

It takes all of his willpower, and then some, not to come when she does, to keep fucking her through it. He plays with her clit as her back bows and her pussy spasms around his cock. He groans into her neck as her head falls back, hips stuttering as the control he’s been clinging to slips through his fingers. 

It takes her longer than usual to come down. Her body pulses distractingly with aftershocks. When she can focus her eyes, they lift to him. She lifts her weak hands and cups his face.

He pulls away from her neck to watch her come down, forcing himself to slow his hips. She whines, whimpers softly and it takes a moment longer than he’s expecting. His eyes fall shut when her small palm presses into his cheek. 

“Felt so good. Wanna come, baby? Please come for me.”

“Yeah—“ he pants, nodding almost frantically, “wanna— fuck, I’m gonna come for you, Lu.” 

He emphasizes his words with a snap of his hips, his head returning to the crook of her neck. He picks up an almost desperate pace, quick and shallow in her still twitching pussy. 

Maya holds on, stroking his cheeks with the pads of his thumbs as his hips pick up pace again. He strokes hard but not quite as deep. She can feel her muscles still fluttering for him like her body wants more.

She hums, tucks her little fingers around Shawn’s neck and lifts her head to nibble on his earlobe as his thrusting goes erratic. 

“It’s ok, baby,” she tells him as he rattles toward orgasm, “Let go for me. Come inside me. I wanna feel you everywhere. Be good for me.”

She always says the magic fucking words. He huffs, sinks his cock all the way inside of her as he chases his orgasm. Her breath on his ear has him throbbing. His hips flick and then still, a low, prolonged groan rumbling his chest as he finally comes.

“Oh, fuck--” he growls, latching onto her jaw while his cock jerks, his knees slipping back until he’s collapsed on top of her. 

He’s tense for a moment, then his entire body relaxes. A coil of heat releases in his stomach and radiates through each one of his frenzied nerves as he pants heavily into Maya’s sweet neck. 

He comes so perfectly for her every time. 

She lets her body relax so he can come hard for her, nipping at her jaw and panting as he comes down. She pets his hair softly, murmuring under her breath. When he goes slack on top of her, she grunts and smiles. She likes that she can make him feel so good that he has to collapse into her.

“Sugar, my god,” he all but moans, finally finding the strength to push himself up, flopping onto his back beside her. “You’re so fucking hot.” 

He rolls away when he realizes he’s crushing her. She tries not to pout. Instead she grins and lifts her arms over her head, sliding her sore thighs shut and twirling hair around her finger.

“Bet you say that to all the girls,” she teases.

Shawn spends a lot of time thinking Maya is trying to kill him. This is another one of those times. She’s wiggly next to him, her legs drawing together as her arms raise, fingers curling in her hair. If he weren’t so fucking exhausted from just coming, his cock would definitely be intrigued by the sight. 

Shawn rolls his eyes, chuckling slightly as he looks away from her. 

“Yeah, well, I only have really hot girlfriends at the moment, so. I have to say it to all of you.” 

Shawn glances back at her, brows quirked. He didn’t know what to say, just then. He’d been thinking, only the girls who beg me to love them but won’t tell me if they love me back, but it was a little on the nose. And a little mean. 

He thinks joking was the right way to go. He can’t hold anything against her, anyway. It was his choice to reveal so much of himself so quickly, to fall back into their romance like he’s still twenty years old. Still a kid. It’s better that Maya’s more guarded with it. 

One of them has to be the adult. 

Maya narrows her eyes and rolls onto her side, tracing a teasing hand down the center of his abdomen, teasing his tired cock. She lifts an eyebrow.

“I bet your other hot girlfriends don’t make you come that good.”

Shawn hisses when she grazes his dick, eyes falling shut. 

“They don’t,” he says with a shake of his head, voice scratchy from shouting for her like a dying whale. At least that’s what it felt like.

He knows better than to poke at her competitive instincts and expect to come out of it without blushing for her. She releases his cock with a giggle and scoots over to crawl half on top of him, draping herself in his heavy limbs and closing her eyes.

She yawns gently and realizes when her eyes slide shut that he’s completely worn her out. She’s full of alcohol, fancy food and dopamine.

She pulls her hand away and he releases and gruff sigh, blinking his eyes open as she crawls on top of his, nuzzling into his chest. 

“You think if you have an orgasm immediately before you go to sleep you wake up without a hangover?”

“I think aspirin is probably a good complement to the orgasm. But the orgasm definitely doesn’t hurt.”

He closes his eyes again, settling into the pillows as he curls an arm around her. He hums. 

He gives her what she wants, just like always. She hums in response and lets him curl around her, accepting her warmth against him.

“‘M too tired for aspirin so I’ll take my chances with the orgasm.”

They’re quiet for a minute, settling in for the night. She smiles when she thinks of their evening, considering that they just popped out to Malibu for a few hours and came back like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

“What do you want to do tomorrow, Lemon?”

She runs a warm hand up and down his side. “Can we go to the art store in the morning? After breakfast obviously. And then maybe movies. It’s supposed to rain in the morning so I won’t drag you to the beach. And I have that giant TV downstairs that I haven’t used yet and I have HBO. So.”

She’s definitely falling asleep quickly. He’s warm and soft but firm and bone-stillingly comforting. 

“So,” he murmurs, smiling into the top of her head. He presses a kiss to her hair. “Sounds like the perfect day, I think.”

He can tell Maya’s on the verge of sleep, but he’s got a fancy suit he needs to take off. He squeezes her hip, then wiggles away from her slightly. 

“Gotta change, Lu,” he murmurs, slipping out of her bed with a kiss to her cheek. He disappears into her bathroom to undress. 

By the time Shawn’s back in the bedroom, Maya’s out like a light. The window by the bed is cracked and letting in a pleasantly sea-salted breeze. The sheets rest around her hips from where she wriggled under them. The room is quiet. 

She shifts gently when Shawn shuffles in next to her. His arm is heavy around her waist. She breathes softly through her nose. It’s perfect. 

+

Maya wakes up with a start suddenly somewhere around 4am. She’s sure she was dreaming but as soon as she’s awake she forgets what she was dreaming about. 

She blinks. She and Shawn are in nearly the same position. He’s fast asleep, his nose buried in her hair, inhaling long and slow behind her. She reaches down and links her fingers with his. 

She remembers her dream now. 

It’s foggy. It’s hot. It’s last night, Shawn holding himself over her, stroking his cock into her so that every breath of hers comes out as a pant. She feels undone, desperate. She wants to hear it again. She knows it’ll make her come as soon as he says it. She’s greedy for it, hungry for it. 

I’m so in love with you, Lu. 

Her stomach lurches. How could she do that? How, even in the haze of sex, could she beg him to remind her how much he loves her? How could she expect that of him when she’s held back so much?

Maya rolls over carefully and quietly. He stays mercifully asleep. There was a time when she would’ve run from this and self-flagellated for months or years. She might’ve kept this shame and hurt splattered across her skin like an invisible tattoo. But when she looks at him now, perfect with sleep, she thinks maybe they both deserve better. 

She’s going to tell him. Today. 

She closes her eyes. 

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