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Current do u like huey lewis and the news
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this like the fifth time this week. WHAT ARE YOU DOING DEVS?
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I’ve never seen someone excuse EA’s idiotic business actions and micro-transactions (see: Battlefront 2, and literally charging people money to RUN in The Old Republic). In 2018, it’s kind of absurd to see someone front for EA. Also, given what EA has done to Bioware, being excited for Anthem is just building yourself up for disappointment.

Keep in mind that this is coming from a guy who bought Mass Effect: Andromeda flaws and all on full display during its first week of release.


i acknowledge that anthem probably won't be good

but i really want it to be good


@Fabricant451 @Universorum
Location: All over the place
Featuring: Owen “Who Are You?” Lyon, Zachary “Flower Boy” Webb, and Samantha “Sam Assiter” Lassiter
Time: After School




Zach had no idea what he was doing. Usually, he was pretty confident in himself, because he kept to things he knew. Stuff like comic books, academics, painting miniatures, and the lore of video games. Stuff like that. Stuff that made sense at a basic level. Not stuff like women. He’d been nothing but awkward and cringey in his interaction with Sam, but he still wanted to do something. He hadn’t know what exactly he should do, so he talked to his mom, and his mom made a pretty solid suggestion: buy her flowers. So, Zach had done exactly that. He’d skipped tabletop club, under the grounds that nothing ever happened there anyway (Paul and Cedric had begrudgingly accepted this sentiment), and went to Hummingbird Creations, where he’d had a bouquet of brightly colored flowers put together. From there, he’d left to the only hint he had about where she might be: the 365 Combat Club. And here he was! Zachary pushed open the glass doors with his free hand, holding the bouquet in the others, and looked around for the tall woman.

As the bell dinged that another person was coming in, Owen dropped the bar he’d been using to deadlift, and its weights hit the ground with a loud bang. His head whipped over to the door, expecting to see someone he knew, but he tilted his head slightly when he saw the young looking kid standing there with… flowers in his hands? Owen shook his head and walked over, his headphones wrapped around his neck, “who are you?” He asked, and the younger boy seemed to physically retreat. Great, a pussy.

“Uh, I’m Zach. I’m looking for Sam.” Zach spoke in a quick voice and Owen shifted his weight, staring at the kid as if he wasn’t making any sense. Then, Owen noticed the flowers.

“Those for her?” Owen asked, and the kid nodded, “this oughta be good. She’s over there.” Owen said, and pointed. Zach smiled his thanks and headed in the direction he was guided in, with Owen following. He didn’t want to miss the show.

Joseph Shivers was born in New Jersey in the year 1920. A textile chemist by trade his claim to fame was in the invention and development of spandex as an alternative to rubber. Spandex, of course, being a synthetic fiber known for its elasticity and being more durable than its contemporary. It was introduced into the world in 1962 and revolutionized the clothing industry. Even today the effects of spandex are continually felt. While not technically the inventor of perhaps the greatest use of spandex known to mankind, Joseph Shivers deserves a considerable amount of praise for opening the door for the show that awaited Zach further inside the 365 Combat Club.

Given the nature of spandex and how form fitting and flattering it was, what awaited Zach in the middle of a bout of shadow boxing was not up to the imagination. It was curved at a perfect sloped angle with a firmness that meant it didn’t sag yet a softness that meant it shook with each step or motion no matter how slight. The proportion was a golden ration - spherical like a globe while protruding upwards and outwards; larger than a strict bubble but not obscenely so. Juicy like a peach with a surface area that would surely have a hand sinking into the skin like the best type of quicksand. The only thing separating Sam Lassiter’s ass from being bared for the Club as a whole was a single pair of form-fitting yoga pants.

Sam was throwing punches at the air, weaving, and bouncing on her feet when Owen and the flower boy came in. Sam noticed through the corner of her eyes upon seeing the movement in her peripheral. ”What’s up, dude?” She was speaking specifically to Owen and not missing a beat in her shadow boxing. ”Wanna go a few? I’m feeling limber.”

The hardest choices require the strongest wills.

Truer words had never been spoken, and the weight of the statement was standing in front of Samantha Lassiter. Owen, with a will made of iron — no, a will made of vibranium — never took his eyes below Sam’s neck. With his arms folded over his chest, Owen shook his head. “No way, bro. I don’t hit no girls; ain’t my style.” Was Owen’s reply, and when he glanced at Zach, Owen saw firsthand what a weaker will looked like. Where Owen’s eyes strictly met Sam’s, it was easy to tell where Zach’s were.

In fact, the younger boy’s mouth was agape as he gazed at Sam’s most valuable asset. Owen reached out with a single finger and closed Zach’s mouth with a light push. Owen shook his head, and shoved Zach forward slightly, ready to watch everything come crashing down, hard. This push seemed to work, and at least break Zach’s fascination. “Oh, uhm. These are for you!” Zach said, thrusting the multi-colored bouquet of flowers in Sam’s direction, holding them up. The pleasant scent of flowers floated up into her nostrils, as Zach continued on. “I was wondering if you… wanted to go to the movie night on Friday with me?”

Kid had heart, Owen had to admit that. It was brave to ask Sam that bluntly, and it was possibly stupid to hand her flowers, but… he went for it. Maybe he didn’t know about the Lassiter Challenge, though Owen supposed he was about to learn the hard way.

One day Owen would get over his girl hitting thing and they would have a proper spar, of that Sam was certain. She might well have been top of the foodchain when it came to the Combat Club but it wasn’t a definitive ranking until she and Owen met one on one in a ring. One day. She shrugged her shoulders at his refusal once more and would have gone back to working out were it not for Owen’s guest of honor. She had seen the flowers and just figured Owen was trying out the weaker sex for a change until Flower Boy was pushed forward and stammered appropriately.

Sam took a step back and looked towards Owen with a rather obvious ‘is this dude serious’ expression. He had guts trying to circumvent the Challenge, or maybe he just didn’t know any better. ”Those are hibiscuses.” Sam shook her head at the flowers, they looked like roses or tulips, standard fare. Sam liked hibiscus for being unique and vibrant and multicolored and flowering with wide petals. The hibiscus was used as a sign in Hawaii and Tahiti, Sam learned from her father after he had shot a movie there: a hibiscus behind the left ear then the woman was married or had a boyfriend, behind the right and she was available for a relationship. She’d never worn a hibiscus apart from when she was a child on vacation in Hawaii but ever since they had been her favorite flower. And this dude didn’t even know that yet here he was asking her to a movie night.

”Alright, if you really wanna do this.” Sam shrugged and stepped to the far right corner of the ring. ”Owen, get this flower boy some gear.” Whether or not Zach knew it, he was now participating in the Lassiter Challenge.

Owen shrugged his shoulders, and put an arm around Zach’s. “Come on, kid. We’ll be back in a sec, Same.” He said, leading Zach away. Owen caught Zach’s eye and saw even more confusion than before in it, “what, you don’t know? If you can beat Sam in a fight, you get to sleep with her. If you can’t, or won’t fight her, then you don’t get to date her, dude. Good luck, dude. She’s gonna thrash you.” Owen said as he reached into a locker and pulled out a pair of gloves. He grabbed some headgear and looked at it, then at Zach, and then threw it back into the locker. “Put the gloves on, take your shirt off, and you should be good.”

“Wait, shouldn’t I get like gym shorts or something?” Zach asked as he looked down at the gloves and the flowers still in his hands. He handed the flowers over to Owen, who made a face, but ultimately held onto them. “In case I need to… kick or something.”

“Fight ain’t gonna last long enough for you to need to kick, dude. In fact, if you’re even in there long enough to punch at her, then I’ll commend you.” Owen said as Zach pulled his shirt off and tugged the gloves on. “Nobody really wins the Challenger, so you’re just gonna jump in the ring, get your ass kicked, and then never come back. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s only been conquered once, and that didn’t end well. It’s a fun little show for me, though.” Owen said, pushing Zach back toward the ring. “Just don’t feel bad about it if you lose. It’s par for the course.”

“Wait. How many people have tried?” Zach asked, and Owen shrugged his shoulders.

“I dunno. Like… six, maybe seven? Probably more than that. Dude, you saw Sam from behind. A lot.” Owen said, before he shoved Zach toward the ring. Zach took one last glance over his shoulder at Owen, before rolling into the ring and looking at Sam.

“So, uhm. How does this work exactly? How do I win? What are the rules?”

Sam almost felt sorry for the guy, but if he had any intention of actually dating her then he had to go through the same scenario as everyone else. Just a quick glance at him told Sam that this dude had a snowball’s chance in hell of making it far at all. If she were in a better mood she might even have let him get in a hit or two. Instead she could promise only to do no lasting damage, other than to his pride. ”How it works is you try to get me down for the ten and I try not to break your nose. Trust me, dude, you’re not winning. Don’t worry about the rules.”

“Alright… Oh, fuck I forgot I broke the bell. Uh… Ding ding ding!”

Sam waited until the ‘bell’ sounded, as per the rules of any fair fight, and the first move she made was to come in low with her fists up, jabbing at Zach’s right side then following up with a straight left to the face, pulling only enough so as not to have his face crunching beneath her knuckles.

Ow. Zach had never been hit before, so he didn’t have a frame of reference for how much it hurt. Unfortunately for him, it hurt a lot. Fortunately for him, Sam hit hard enough that he immediately fell unconscious and crumpled to the ground. The next thing he saw was Owen crouching over him, shaking his head. “...how’d I do?” Zach asked, before reaching up and touching his head. Owwwww.

“Honestly? You did about average. Bad news is, average isn’t a win. You’re outta here. Chalk that shit up as a loss. Good game, no r e. Go home.” Owen said, as Zach sat up and winced. Owen stood up to his full feet, and held out a hand to pull Zach up to his feet. Zach stumbled a little bit, and touched his head again, nodding slowly.

“I lost? Can I try again?” Zach asked, and Owen paused. No one ever wanted to try again, it was typically a ‘one and done’ scenario, as most people didn’t like the harm it did to their pride losing to Sam so handily. Owen found that he didn’t have an answer to that question, and instead turned his attention to Sam.

“Hey, dude wants to go again. Do you allow second tries? I can’t remember anyone askin’ for one.”

Sam had stepped out of the ring and was nursing a bottle of water with a towel around her neck. It was a good thing her punch had knocked Zach unconscious just so he didn’t have to hear Sam call to Owen ’get this flower boy out of my ring’ in a rather arrogant, victorious sort of manner. But she was done with her work out for the day and could let her hair down, so to speak. She nearly spat out her water when she was hit with the most shocking question this side of ‘why do you have Henry’s dick pics on your phone?’

”What are you, some kinda masochist, dude? I beat you in one punch and it wasn’t even full strength. There’s no point in round two right now. I’ll give you a second try the day you can get halfway up the rope.” That seemed more than fair in Sam’s eyes. What good would it be to let him go again when the result was going to be the same? Still, points for asking. Most dudes just left with a sour expression and muttering about how “no ass is worth that”.

”Thanks for the workout, though.” Sam turned away from Owen and Zachary to mutter something under her breath using the excuse of rummaging through her gear bag. ”And for the flowers.”

“Right. Halfway up the rope.” Zach muttered, before looking at Owen. Owen, who had been hoping that Sam would shut it down, let out a sigh and pointed at the climbing rope hanging from the rafters near the center of the gym. Zach stared at the rope for a few seconds, before nodding his agreement. “Yeah, seems fair.” Zach stepped out of the ring and walked away, wondering how he was going to figure this out. It wasn’t until he got nearly out the door that Owen spoke up.

“Dude, I would just walk out and not come back, dude. She’ll just beat you again unless you magically learn to fight. You got some kinda magic bean you’re gonna eat that teaches you how to thrash people? Because I doubt it. Plus, your scrawny ass couldn’t climb a quarter of the way up the rope, let alone halfway.” Owen was trying to do what was best for the kid, but it seemed he’d struck a nerve, as Zach looked more angry than he’d looked since rolling into the gym.

“What’s the point of her stupid challenge if no one can beat her?” Zach demanded, and Owen immediately held up a hand to stop him right there.

“I could beat her ass, but I don’t hit no chicks and I got a girl anyway. But you ain’t go—”

“If you could beat her why don’t you just train me? I’ll come to the gym like every day and we can practice and you can help me get strong enough to win, right?” Zach asked, and Owen responded by narrowing his eyes. “I mean, you’re the best right? Teach me. I just wanted to take her to the movies.

“Alright fine! But there’s gonna be some rules and regulations. Rule #1. I will exclusively call you Young Grasshopper. Rule #2. You will be here every day at 5:45 AM sharp to open up. If you cannot get here by that time I will pick you up. We’ll discuss your workout regime tomorrow. Rule #3. Do whatever I say without asking questions. We’ll make a man out of you yet. Now go home, and don’t fall asleep, you probably have a concussion.” Owen said, before scribbling his number on a piece of a napkin from the dispenser by the door and pushing Zach out of the building. Owen then turned and went back to Sam.

“Hey, Same. What are you gonna do with the flowers? Do you want me to toss ‘em?”

Sam was relaxing now that her workout and ‘spar’ was concluded; it was nice to just take a load off and let her adrenaline cool. She regarded Owen with a half-hearted lifting wave of her arm before dabbing at her forehead with the towel ‘round her shoulders. ”Dude, who was that kid? He’s not afraid to get his ass beat by a girl, unlike someone I know.” Now the ribbing could begin in earnest, as typical.

”No, I’ll take care of the flowers. They’re technically mine so, like, I’ll chuck ‘em on my way out.” What Owen didn’t realize was while he was dealing with the ‘challenger’, Sam picked up the flowers where Owen had left them and dropped them into her bag. Once she was on her way home she’d give them air to breathe before finding a suitable vase at home. ”Was he staring at my ass when he came in?”

“I dunno who he is. Some kid named Zach.” Owen shrugged his shoulders, but chose not to mention that he’d agreed to help Zach out so he’d possibly have a chance the next time they fought. “And I ain’t afraid to get beat by a girl, I just don’t want to hurt you, dude.” He protested and rolled his eyes. Sam didn’t seem to have any intentions of giving that one up, did she? Owen hadn’t fought her yet and didn’t intend to.

“I mean, yeah he was. Why do you ask? Doesn’t like, everyone do that?”

Now it was Sam’s turn to roll her eyes and act indignant. Owen just didn’t get it. No one was staring at his ass all the time, as if there was anything to stare at in the first place. ”Dude, how would you feel if instead of talking to you people just stared at your dick all the time?” She paused a moment before sighing in realization. ”Nevermind, you’d probably pop at least half chub. But it’s like, people only care about my ass and not me. You have to earn the right to gawk at my ass.”

Sam wasn’t even sure where she was going with this topic other than general annoyance at people staring without even saying hello first. ”Wait, do you stare? Not cool, dude.”

“Hey, dude, I dunno if you know this: but Owen’s actually a pretty private guy. I hate being stared at, and I was stared at a whole lot for the past like two months since Trixie dumped my ass. And no, I don’t stare at your ass! That’s gross, dude. We’re like, friends. I don’t even know what all the fuss is about, but it looks like everyone else does.” Owen shook his head and decided to shift the subject, he’d felt the slightest hints of insecurity emanating from Sam, and knew it was his responsibility as her friend to step in and reassure her. “Look, dude. That’s not how people are. You’re cool to talk to and fun to hang out with. The butt thing just like brings people in, right? Sam makes ‘em stay. Trust me. I knew you before you filled out. The ones who only want your body are the ones you knock out whenever they try to get you to go out with them. They just give up.” Owen frowned. “Of course, this guy didn’t just give up. Weird. I’ll ask him tomorrow if he wants all of Sam Lassiter or if he wants Sam Lassiter’s below the belt parts only.”

For that startlingly effective pepper upper of a pep talk, Sam responded in the only way that seemed appropriate: she punched Owen lightly in the shoulder. A friend tap. Knowing full well retaliation wasn’t in the cards, she punched slightly above a tap but it was still barely anything other than a gesture of goodwill and thanks. ”Ten bucks says he’s just into Sam Assiter. I swear he looked familiar, though. Probably nothing. Thanks, dude. You may not wanna spar with me but you’ve got your uses after all.”



⋙: Episode 1, The Aftermath

Feeling the waves of the assault on the Mayor, members of the Coalition are handling their emotions following the past few days in their own ways. When an airplane's engines fail, and its collision with the ground seems imminent, the Coalition springs into action. After managing to put the plane down, they meet a young girl, implied to be Enhanced. Upon returning home, someone is waiting for them.













FC: Joey King; e530f2

This girl was found on the plane that was heading for the ground before the Coalition intervened. She has yet to speak, but was clutching a Coalition branded lunchbox. Inside of it was a note from the girl's parents, imploring the Coalition to take her in and take care of her. The note seemed frantic enough that the Sentinel took her home, and intends to keep her under his care.





FC: Jonathan Banks; 4d73d6

EPIC Agent Hauser has been assigned to the Coalition as an 'advisor.' Unlike the rest of their career, they are now working under close supervision and guidance of a government entity, that they didn't know existed until today.




No speed-posting. Give other people a chance to respond to your character but if it is a week after your original post and you are itching to post again, feel free to do so.
Tag/Mention players you interact with like @Universorum
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⋙: C H A R A C T E R S H E E T

  • PLEASE REMOVE THE SPACE IN [ hr] (that's a line breaker) WITHIN THE C.S. CODE
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Click the picture to go to the character's profile (If it is not clickable, I have yet to add the link)




Pictures of characters tba


Doctor Faze // Dr. Austin Daley (Age, 27) // FFFF31
Leader: The Sentinel // Nathaniel Stroud (Age, 28) // ff5f0f
Barrage // Serenity Lavi (Age, 26) // 73a9c2


Pictures of characters tba


Spectra // Samaira Varma (Age, 24) // E6E6FA
Nox // Callum McDaniel (Age, 19) // 00bfff


⋙: Welcome to the Watchtower

The Watchtower.

Formerly a massive office complex built in the center of downtown Detroit, this building was shut down shortly before the Enhanced appeared, around 2012, as a result of economic decline. After almost a year of work from the team, the leader of the newly dubbed Coalition, Nathaniel Stroud, was approached by Mayor Brenton Wesley with the offer of becoming official protectors of Detroit city. Part of the deal was the complex, which was renovated from abandoned office space to be a home and a headquarters for the team.

Outfitted with near bleeding edge technology, the Watchtower has it all. Amenities include a sizeable gym, a rooftop basketball court, a training area for the Enhanced to utilize and practice their powers, and a research lab that is largely utilized by Coalition member Austin Daley. There are also surprisingly luxurious bedrooms, bathrooms, and rest and relaxation areas, including a pool on the rooftop. The team lives comfortably, receiving payment from the local government in addition to their lodgings.

The Coalition logo is stamped on the side of the building, constantly glowing, warding off potential danger. Despite all the good the Coalition does for the civilians, plenty of them are furious that their tax dollars fund this unrestrained and unchecked band of ‘vigilantes.’ Despite the close work the Coalition do with the local police force and city hall itself, some people see the Watchtower as a sign of dark things to come, and consider the constant light of the ‘C’ on the side of the building a beacon to evil, drawing people who want to fight against the best.

Regardless, during their entire tenure in the Watchtower, the Coalition have been open and willing to accept visitors. People with nowhere else to go often find their way here, which has led to a small staff of people — janitors, a chef, and one or two personal trainers — living with the Coalition in return for nothing other than food and boarding. More than once, local elementary schools have taken field trips to the Watchtower, getting to meet their heroes and receiving a tour of the headquarters.

Largely, the Coalition is loved by the entire city; the minority, once quiet, has almost overnight become incredibly vocal with the assassination of the mayor. Though the Watchtower is currently uninhabited by no one other than official team members, recent government meetings — federal and local alike — are leaning towards sending officials in to monitor the Enhanced, and ensure that none of them are working with the terrorist responsible for the assassination of beloved Mayor Wesley. Additionally, there is public outcry, wanting to know how the Enhanced came to be, and if there are more that the Coalition are not associated with. How long until more damage is done?

Will the Coalition even allow government officials into their fold? Will they fight, or will they willingly submit to being researched? The questions are being asked and, as of yet, there haven’t been any answers.




Warning

This story explores controversial, mature, and dark topics.
We will not stray away from subjects like: homicide, hate crimes, assault of any variant, substance use, terrorism, and many others.
Please do not join if you do not want to be in a harsh reality superhero roleplay.
[/center]






⋙: I n t r o d u c t i o n

The Enhanced had first appeared almost three years ago. They were a group of people, friends before they were heroes, and local to the area. They had decided the moment that their powers manifested that they would not use their powers for evil. Like the characters they had read about in comic books, the ones that had been in their movie theaters constantly for almost a decade now, they too would be sources of happiness and inspiration for the people around them.

And they were. They became pillars of the community, helping to drop crime rates to the lowest that they had ever been. Within a year of their sudden appearance, they were working closely with the mayor, and their town loved them. There were a few zealots who thought they were freaks and wanted them gone, but… there were always zealots. The important thing was that they kept their home safe. They called themselves the Coalition of Heroes. It was coined by one of the members, and it stuck — for better or worse.

Within two years, they had a headquarters that was all their own, and paid for by city taxes. They lived in the building, which was outfitted with bleeding edge, state of the art technology to make their job easier. The police force grew lazy, and the team handled almost everything that cropped up, though only the impossibly brave or the impossibly stupid stepped up against the team of people that possessed powers that made them gods.

By the third year, their popularity was higher than ever. The people loved them to the point that other cities around the nation, even the world, were growing jealous. There were merchandising deals, people wanting interviews. Popular. Beloved. And then… it happened.


⋙: T h e R e a l i t y


⋙: T h e R e p e r c u s s i o n s

Unbeknownst to the Coalition, the video was being played on almost every television station broadcasted in the city. They ran to find him, to fight him, to fix this like they always did. Of course they ran. And they did find him, their nameless villain did not make himself hard to find, standing atop a building that, almost in a cliche, was in the abandoned industrial portion of town. He was waiting for them.

They fought him. They expected it to be one and done — like every other fight that they had fought up to this point — they had almost sent merely a single member of their team to apprehend the villain… but something was different about this one. He, like them, was Enhanced. He, like them, had power. He, unlike them, was not good. He, unlike them, used his powers for evil.

He destroyed them, thrashed the team in a battle that left portions of the surrounding area… gone, decimated. It was only by sheer luck that they had fought in the abandoned section of town. After the battle, the villain stood there, virtually unharmed, and the heroes laid on the ground in pain and shock at the realization that they were no longer the only ones who had power. Standing over the Coalition, the villain spoke once more.

“I have a rule, a code of honor. Whoever appeals to the law against their fellow man is either a fool, or a coward. For a wounded person shall say to his assailant: ‘If I live, I will kill you. If I die, you are forgiven.’ That is the rule of honor. I am not dead, and you are wounded. What will you do?” And with that, just like he’d appeared, he vanished in thin air, without a trace.

Leaving nothing but chaos behind, just like he’d promised.

In a matter of days after that, the people no longer loved or trusted them. They didn’t know if the Coalition was involved in the murder of the mayor, but some thought it. They were afraid, they didn’t want them anymore. The Coalition didn’t know what to do anymore.

Luckily for them, an agent from a covert government entity was waiting for them at their home after the completion of their most recent mission. He's been sent there to be an adviser.

A thinly veiled move by the US Government to supervise them.


⋙: Rules

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Post C.S. in the OOC and wait for approval. Do not post anything in the character tab until accepted.
Did you read the rules? In the Anything Else section of your Character Sheet put a superhero or villain you really like.
introducing // Baby Bash & Meg
ft // Owen & Trixie
main location // The Four Corners


The knocking on the door was rapid and random, done by a panicked young man. He was pounding on the door and trying to get the attention of the occupants, but it wasn’t working. It didn’t seem like anyone was going to answer, but he didn’t stop. There was even a noise of acknowledgment from the other side of the door, but still, he did not stop knocking.

It was then that the hellcat stepped in.

From atop a shelf where pictures of a young Owen and Ruby were, Oreo leaped onto Sebastian’s shoulder, clawing down the young man’s arms. “Owowowowowowowow!” The cat slid down his arm and to his legs, where he again scratched him.

Then, there was more yelling, this time from a different person. “I told him to get that fucking cat in his room!” The voice yelled, and then the door finally opened, revealing an angry looking Owen Lyon, and a Trixie Kingsley who was wearing only a baggy t-shirt that belonged to her man, sitting on the bed.

“What the fuck do you want, Baby Bash?! I’m fucking busy! Owen snapped, shaking his head

“You’re suspended! And don’t call me that, it’s embarrassing...”

“Trixie, tell Baby Bash I’m busy.

Crossing her arms, while rolling her eyes, Trixie scolded her boyfriend, “Don’t be rude, Owen. He said don’t call him Baby Bash.” Her chocolate eyes went from her man to the other man, “Well, anyways, Baby Bash, what do you want? I was just about to get some.” Not so subtly hinting where her mind was at.

Owen looked over at Trixie and shook his head. Really? Before he could speak and try again to shoo Sebastian out of his room, though, Sebastian immediately unloaded. “I need help! I made a big mistake and I’m screwed and you’re the only one I can ask and if I ask anyone else they’re gonna make fun of me, or like Scott will beat me up! Wait, didn’t you and Trixie break up? What is she doing here? Why is she naked?”

Should she let Owen answer? Nah! That wouldn’t be fun. Standing up, making her way next to her boyfriend, she leaned her head against his arm, “I am naked because we had sex all night and we were going to have even more sex, right now.” Then she showcased her left hand, with the ring, “We kissed and made up, BB. Now please! Do tell.”

“We ought to just let Scott slap him around.” Owen stated, rolling his eyes as he let Bash inside, who shut the door behind himself.

“I lied. I lied a lot, about… I lied about having a girlfriend! And now I need to find one because I decided I wanted to go to school with you guys, and like, I need… help. Do you have any ideas? You’re the only one that I can get help from, because like… Scott will just be an asshole and everyone else will just bully me.” Bash complained, and Owen stepped toward him.

“Oh, you motherfucker. You motherfucker. ‘She goes to another school,’ he says!” Owen snapped, and Sebastian visibly cringed and shrunk a bit, as if he thought Owen might hit him. “Are you kidding me?!

“Shuuuush, Kitty. It’s okay.” Trixie naturally responded to Owen’s moment of hysteria, before turning her head towards Sebastian and questioning his… action, “... what was the purpose? To lie about that specific thing?”

“I don’t know, all my uncles think I should be a lady killer like my grandfather was, but I’m really not, and now I’m just fucked, aren’t I? Scott will never let me hear the end of it.” Sebastian said, shaking his head in despair. Owen looked at him and scoffed.

“You’re such a bitch, dude. I think I have an idea, but it’s gonna cost you. Like, actual cash. You got cash, right?” He asked, and in response, Sebastian reached inside of his jacket pocket and pulled out a wrapped stack of hundred dollar bills, proudly denoted as ‘$5,000.’ “That might do it. Let me make a call.” Owen shook his head and put his phone to his ear after tapping a contact that he hadn’t in a long time.

Ring ring.

“If Meg doesn’t pick up you’re fucked. But she likes me, so maybe she’ll answer.”

“Wait, you’re calling, Magnolia? She hates me.” Trixie was coming to realize a lot of people didn’t like her. “Why are you calling her? Because she’ll do anything for a fucking buck?” There was a time where she might have almost gotten in a cat fight with the bitch, who overstepped her boundaries, touching Owen like he was her’s. Trixie was not pleased.

Damn, Trixie could be so violent sometimes. Owen made a mental note to help Trixie make nice with all the people in her life that she hated or that hated her. All that hate was going to go straight to her thighs. Wait, that might not be too bad… “Well, yeah, Meg can be bought.” Came Owen’s nonchalant reply, not realizing that his friend had just answered the phone.

“Is that so?” ‘Magnolia’ purred on the other line. There was a reason why she went with Meg, she disdained that name, with every fiber of her being, “You gonna’ fight again?” Yeah, if he was trying to buy her for something, might as well negotiate, so she ends up winning.

“No, not interested.”

“You fucking pussy.”

“Winning gets tiring. Lookin’ to rent you.” Owen wasn’t going to get baited, not when there was serious business that needed to be done. Did this count as ‘serious’ business? He supposed it did, since Little Bash would cry and whine to his parents if Owen didn’t help out.

Sebastian glanced over at Trixie, with a confused look on his face. “Wait, who’s Meg?”

“A hot girl with nothing to lose.” Concise. Straight to the point. That was Meg in a nutshell. No money, besides what she got on her own, with looks she uses as a weapon.

“Your girlfriend makes me sound dumb. Am I on speaker?”

“No, and you’re not going to be. Be here in five minutes. No more than six.” Owen responded. If Trixie and Meg were going to have a fight, then he at least wanted it to be in person so he could watch them roll around on the ground together. Maybe they’d have a mental break and kiss.

“If I wasn’t in the area already doing business, you’d be out of luck, bud. You do realize I live in the Valley, right? Whatever. See you in five.” The line went dead.

“Did you seriously invite her over, Owen?!” Trixie unlatched from his arm, anger building up inside her tiny body. “As if finding out my best friends are fucking lying cunts weren’t enough, you invited her?!”

Here we go. He forgot about this part; the jealousy part. Now, Owen was into it, but sometimes it got to be a little much. Meg was a friend, nothing more, and eventually Trixie would learn that. Probably, though? Not today. “I surely did. Now, I’m gonna turn around and I’m gonna push Baby Bash here out the door, so he can go wait on the porch and buy himself a girlfriend. When I turn back around, you’re going to be naked again. Any questions?” Owen said, looking down at Trixie after she finished screeching at him.

Glaring up at him, while biting her tongue, Trixie didn’t say a word, but it was obvious she had gotten quite heated. Meg didn’t have any boundaries and Trixie wasn’t stupid. Meg adored Owen and always was on his dick about fighting. Tsk. Owen took the silence as compliance, and turned, putting a hand on Bash’s shoulder and pushing him toward the door. “C’mon, now. She’ll be here in five minutes. She’s like a shark, just wave the money around and the clothes come off. You’re smart, you’ll figure it out.”

Despite the assurances that came from Owen, Bash’s worried, and hurried complaints were quick. “Wait, what? What if she doesn’t like me? What if I don’t have enough? What do I say? I don’t know how to do this! I’ve never bought a person before!”

“DON’T. CARE.” Slam.

Owen turned around. Trixie did exactly what he said and a little bit more. Along with being naked, on his bed, with a still angry face on, her legs were open. She’s been waiting for this literally all morning. What?

Five minutes later.

Having changed out of her red edm outfit into more casual wear, well once the police chase was over and done with, Meg pulled up onto the front lawn of one of the houses on the Four Corners, with a Fischer MRX 650 that she may have obtained by illegal means. After taking off her black helmet, waving her hair so that it can drop in place, on her shoulders, she hooked the safety gear on the handle and made her way to the porch where a boy she didn’t recognize was standing, waiting. Her long, sharp nails that resembled black claws ran through her sleek hair, before she aggressively asked, “Who are you?”

Yikes. This was the one? Well, she was hot, at least Trixie was right about that. Her attitude though, that was definitely there… and wasn’t exactly what Bash had been imagining when he’d lied about his girlfriend, but hey. Beggars can’t be choosers, and bro was definitely a beggar at the moment. He stood up, and gave her a wide smile. “Hi. I’m Sebastian Lyon. Owen said I could rent you?”

“Wait, come again. What is your name?” Her resting bitch face turned quickly to bafflement. Did he say he was… Sebastian - Lyon?

There was a pause, before he repeated himself, staring at her. Was she dumb? Maybe she was dumb. “Sebastian Lyon.”

“You’re fucking funny. You are not the goddamn Reaper.” This was a joke. Owen was playing — a practical joke on her. “Okay, where is Owen, Sebastian?” She said sarcastically. Not really wanting to talk to a poser.

“...no, that’s my grandfather. I’m, uh, named after him? Owen’s upstairs with Trixie. You probably shouldn’t interrupt them. I wouldn’t, anyway.” This was going absolutely terrible, wasn’t it? Maybe he should have just taken the L and fought Scott. “Look, do you wanna do it or not?”

“Oh, gross. Owen can do so much better.” Meg’s annoyance flooded her demeanor, before she tilted her head at the boy named after the great Lyon. “Sex? Right here? Sure. How much?”

“Troy would execute us if we had sex on his porch,” was BB’s response, then he shook his head. That wasn’t what he wanted at all! His words were jumbled and his intentions were marred by them. “I just want you to pretend to be my girlfriend! Like, come to school with me, and stuff.” He reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew the stack of bills, holding it out in her direction. “This much?”

“Woah, woah, woah, buttercup.” Meg looked at the large stack of money, pushing it away with her hands. Dude, how old was this kid? He did not seem to be a Lyon, like at all. Did he know what he was even saying?

So a girlfriend, huh. That was… ‘sweet’. There’s got to be more to it (and perhaps she could get more out of this). “Don’t you know how to do business? You don’t just show your hand right off the back, dumbass.” Even if her words were offensive, she meant well. “So... let me get this straight, you want me to pretend to be your girl. Correct?”

“Dude, if you think that’s all the money I have, then you don’t know who I am. I can make double that in less than ten seconds” Sebastian said, in an almost dismissive voice as he looked at her as if she were crazy. With the few seconds that it took him to say that, there was the flash of the Lyon blood flaring up in him. “...yeah, pretend to be my girl. I need people to believe I have a devoted girlfriend.”

And just like that, it was gone.

Okay, now she could see it. “For how long? And I want money weekly.”

“Five grand a week? You’d better have a high libido.” There wasn’t much on this planet worth that much money,

“You’re the one that needs a fake girlfriend, not me. Five grand. Every week.”

“Whatever, man. And I just haven’t found time to get a real girlfriend!” He seemed to be slipping in and out of living up to his namesake. “I guess three weeks. Then I’ll dump you. And you have to be really fucked up about it on social media.”

Rather than immediately respond to him, she stepped up on the porch and grabbed his shirt’s collar, yanking him closer to her, “Sounds good to me, baby.” And with that, she closed the deal with a kiss. Owen was right. She would do anything for money.









Rousing from a heavy slumber, gradually and reluctantly opening her eyes to the harsh light peering in Owen’s open balcony door, Trixie sluggishly lifted herself up. The slight movement caused the soft sheet to drop to reveal her bare chest. Under his sheet, she was undoubtedly naked. Stretching her arms above her head, she yawned wildly. The sunlight was blinding. It didn’t help that she was incredibly hungover. On top of the ache in her head, her body was sore from the… events… that transpired last night. Was she and Owen back together?

Lifting the sex sheets, she examined them and smiled to herself. Drunk her was crazy but thanks to drunk her she was here, with Owen. There was some of her night that was vague. She remembered making a grand entrance with Marshall, dancing spicy, because that’s how she danced, spicy, used the bathroom, learning too much about her cousin’s dick, and… Ophelia’s face flickered in Trixie’s mind, causing her to frown. That’s right. She learned about the lie. Looking around his room, which hadn’t changed a bit, Trixie wondered where Owen was. She probably should get up or she’d be late for— she wasn’t going to school.

For once, she could clear everything up with Owen. Clean their slate. Start over. She wasn’t going to ruin that by going to school. She missed yesterday, she could miss today too. Up until this week her attendance was perfect. The teachers should be fine that she’s taking a mental health day. With all the shit she has been through, she deserved it.

“Mau?” It wasn’t Owen, but it was a close second! Oreo hopped onto the bed from the floor and trotted to Trixie’s face, putting his paw on her face. “Mau.” She was still here… The cat hadn’t expected her to stay the entire evening, let alone still be here. And now, she was in his bed. “Mau.” He pushed at her face. Go away.

Not really able to speak cat, the first thing that came to Trixie’s mind was: he wants love and attention. So, she did exactly that. Wrapping her arms around Oreo, she put him in a cradle like he was her baby and rubbed their noses together, “Good morning, Oreooo!”

DEVIL WOMAN.

“Mau! Mau! Mau! Mau!” Oreo complained, squirming and twisting in Trixie’s arms. Who did this woman think she was!? If his human wasn’t so fond of her, Oreo would FUCK. HER. UP.

As Oreo meowed aggressively, there was a knock on the door frame, drawing attention to Oreo’s savior: Owen. The boy was holding a bowl of cereal in his hands, and was in just his boxers. He took a bite, and crunched it. “Hey, Trixie.” He swallowed down the food and looked at Oreo, “Oreo would like freedom of movement, and to be put down. I think.”

“Oh.” Freeing the cat, Trixie modestly covered herself with the sheet. For some reason, she felt kind of shy. They had sex million times before, why was this time different? Pushing her hair behind her right ear, she whispered, “Sorry, Oreo.” Her gaze went from the cat to her not-so-long-ago-ex. She gave an awkward smile. Here they were. She was sober and he was eating cereal.

Oreo was gone seconds after Trixie put him down, leaping back off of the bed and retreating behind Owen’s legs. He would get his bed back when Satan was gone. He nuzzled against Owen’s leg as Owen took another bite of cereal, before nudging Oreo out of the room. There was a short look of betrayal from the cat to the man, but Oreo left.

“You better get this fucking cat back into your room!”

Owen shut the door without responding to his dad. Owen sat the bowl of cereal down on his dresser and approached the bed, kneeling down at the edge of it and putting his chin on the edge of the bed, looking across the way at Trixie. “Come here, Trix.”

That expression on his face caused her chest to have a sudden, sharp ache. She still felt guilty. She still felt like she didn’t deserve any of this. She still felt… horrible. “Come on, lover,” Owen said with a soft voice, reaching out with his hand gesturing her toward him with his finger.

A mess. She was a mess, with and without him. Cautiously and very cat like, she baby crawled to him. The sheet no longer covering her, her long, ebony hair, loose and unruly, and her eyes on his. Her defenses were down and she felt vulnerable. Her heart beat distracted her from thinking negative thoughts. She couldn’t think about anything but him and it was… daunting. Her face was inches away from his, when she whispered, “Hi, Kitty.”

“It’s good to see you.” Owen reached out and brushed some of her hair out of her eyes. “You’re sexy.” He leaned forward and kissed her lips gently, letting it only last a second. “I forgot how sexy.” He smiled and nuzzled their noses together. While Trixie was freaking out internally, and even somewhat externally, Owen was as controlled as always. After the night before, Owen considered things alright between them — even if she didn’t quite yet.

Tracing his lip with the tip of her finger, taking in her present, she watched him with adoration and devotion. She wasn’t going to make the same mistakes again, that’s for sure. Tracing her finger down to his chin, she lifted his head a little so she could get a better look at him, “I’ve missed you.” She admitted.

Owen let her move his head so she could get the angle she wanted and smiled after she spoke. “I had a feeling,” he winked at her and smiled — something Owen didn’t do that much anymore. Especially not this smile, the one that he knew made Trixie feel…things. He pushed against her hand and met eyes with her again. “I missed you, too.”

He was a little devil. Knowing all of her like the palm of his hand. All her triggers that turned her on. She brought her head closer and nipped at his lip, “Are you just going to keep staring or are you going to fuck me? All you’re doing is making me wet.” Yeah, she still had her thirst from last night.

“If I tease you enough, you turn into an animal. It’s great. Makes it a little hard to sit, since my back gets a litttleee fucked up, but…” Owen trailed off, reaching out and brushing some of her hair out of her eyes, shaking his head. He laughed, then leaned forward to kiss her again. “We probably shouldn’t yet. I’m sorry, but we can do it whenever we want. And we will.” Owen explained, reaching underneath the bed and grabbing her panties. “Put these on. If I knew where your bra was, I’d give it to you too… Shouldn’t you call Riley or something? I know you, and I know you’ll want to make a statement. Besides, you have to tell everyone I don’t have baby dick.” Owen kissed her cheek and stood up straight.

“Well, Riley might be kinda fucked… Here.” Owen went back to his cereal and picked it back up, beginning to crunch at the cereal, before snatching his phone and pulling his phone off of the dresser, then browsed to Riley’s Instagram and pulled the video up, handing it over to Trixie.

First, she was denied, which hurt. He didn’t want her. She pouted at the thought, but then her attention was immediately brought to his phone. Pressing play, Trixie placed the phone on the bed, grabbed her panty, and as she watched the video, she slipped it on, “Oh no, Riley.” Last night turned out not being good for a few of them. Though, her night was debatable. She’d like to think it ultimately was a success because it ended with her screwing her ex.

Wait.

With her panty on and the video ending, Trixie gave Owen a confused look, “Are we…?” She needed to make sure that there wasn’t any grey lines between them. That she could make up for hurting him, while they dated.

“I threw you against the wall last night, like seriously,” Owen pointed at the wall beside the bed, where there was a hole in the drywall. “I’d say we’re together, at least. Besides, babe.” Owen reached down to her left hand and pulled it up to her face, where the ring he’d given her almost a year ago was back in its proper place. “You’re wearing the ring.”

Bringing her left hand to her chest, feeling her ring with her right, her eyes welled up. “Okay.” She gave a shaky smile, the tears trailing down her face. Not ready to cry her heart out, she immediately wiped the tears away and spoke her thoughts outloud, “I need to call Brian. He hates me, but he’ll be able to get what I want done. I don’t think Riley will go to school, for a good reason too… this will be hard for him to come back from. And…” Even though he said good things about her and Owen, he called out a specific person, which took guts. Something she has never been able to do. “...Hailey.” Was all she could say.

“Yep, seems like he’s fucked, huh? Hailey’s gonna feel some type of way with Riley trash talking the buttle.” Owen reached out and grabbed his phone. Remembering that she mentioned she had to call Brian, Owen made a face, “hey, I don’t want to talk to him, so don’t tell him I’m here. Brian always wants something from me, it’s a pain in the ass” He shook his head and sat back down on the bed, laying on his back and stretching his legs out. “It’s good to have you back. If you want, I’m totally available for straddling while you call Brian. Just going to play this mobile game and stay out of it.” Owen explained, pulling his phone out and tapping a few things to bring up the app he was interested in.

“You could try texting him.” Owen offered, as the sound of Tetris emanated from his phone.

“At least until she graduates or like… he figures out how to make peace with the demon queen.” Without a second thought, Trixie was on top of her boyfriend, but her straddling had a goal. She placed herself at a specific spot, in a specific angle. After she grabbed her phone, which was at the edge of the bed, she looked for Brian’s name in her contacts, “He doesn’t text.” She would know. They’ve had business calls before, which usually ended with him calling her a bitch. Subtly moving her body on top of Owen, on purpose, with intention, she called the man that would hopefully save the day.

“Brat.” Owen said in protest, still focusing on his game as the phone dialed once, then twice. As always, Brian answered immediately as the third ring happened.

“Hello, this is Brian.” Brian’s voice sounded off through the receiver, the same as always.

“Hey Brian! It’s Trixie.” Before he could protest and hang up, she racingly begged, “Please-don’t-hang-up-it’s-important!”

“Very little that you do is important.” Came Brian’s terse, annoyed response. However, he didn’t hang up. Was there a pause? Yes, but no click of the line. “You have one and a half minutes, starting now.”

Taking a quick breath in and out, Trixie nodded and gave Brian the lowdown, “I’m a bitch, you’re right, and I found out that Owen didn’t cheat on me. I’d like to make an announcement on the morning show via skype and I need your help. I understand this isn’t necessarily your jurisdiction, but based on a video that transpired last night, I don’t think Riley will be going to school today and you are one of the most reliable, efficient people I know. If you do me a favor, I promise I’ll pay you back ten fold!” She probably was going to regret that last statement.

“There’s not a lot you could offer me. I tried to help out with the morning show and Brynn was a bitch and Riley a whiny baby. I don’t have time to work with either of those things. I saw the video. Why do I have to clean up Riley’s mess? Doesn’t seem fair. I don’t want to provide assistance where, quote unquote, ‘the creator’ of the show wants it. I offered already.”

Owen reached up and tapped Trixie on the shoulder with a finger. “Not going very well, then?” He asked, able to tell mostly based on her subtler body movements. Plus, he knew Brian.

Her face did drop, but she gently brushed her boyfriend away, this was her battle. “Brian. This isn’t for Riley. He can deal with his own mess. I need to clean mine and clear Owen’s name, but I am in no position to go to school right now. I understand this isn’t fair, and I won’t ask for anything after this, I just need your help. This one time. Then you can kiss the morning show goodbye and let it die. Right now all I care about is taking me and Owen, out of the spotlight.”

“Seems to me like being on the morning show via Skype from, I assume, his bedroom is a poor way to do it. But fine. One last thing. After this, don’t call me anymore. Agreed?”

Obediently and hoping in the future she didn’t need him, Trixie gave a certain reply, “Agreed.”

“Okay.” Click.

“Is it over? Let’s get you back out of those clothes. We have time.”

Knock. Knock.

Owen’s eyes flicked over toward the door. “Motherfucker, this had better be good.”




Welcome to Wednesday! The boat party was… something. Maybe not explosive as the New Year’s party, but it had its moments. Now we’re here to suffer the fallout before we move forward. Good luck with another day in BHHS!
@Lovely Complex @Universorum

Location: In The Throes of Passion and The Throes of Despair
Featuring: Jericho “My Son Doesn’t Need Me Anymore” Snyder and Amity “Yes, He Does” Snyder








Stars of the Show:
Damian “Happening” O’Connor and Joy “Feels Like the First Time” Darling

For the brief time she was sleeping, Joy had found herself in a surreal dream, where she and Damian were in a retro colored talk show, sitting in large white seats, with the host between them. She looked at her boyfriend with suspicious eyes, calling him out on his lies. All the girls he slept with were in the crowd (though it was just her imagination creating fake lovers). It was like they were on the Maury Show, but the episodes focused on her new found relationship.

Damian gave off this uncaring nonchalance, taking her feelings lightly, which only riled her up more. Joy never got this riled up. The dream shifted to her talking to a fortune teller with a crystal ball, asking questions of what her future had in store for her, but all Joy could see was white clouds and obscure images. Not being able to predict things was frustrating and her dream displayed the feelings she carried that day up until she left the party and he assured her, she had nothing to worry about.

Slowly, her eyes opened to see that her face was inches away from Damian’s, who was holding onto her, asleep. Where was Lil’ Boss?

When Amity came home from picking her husband up, they both found their son and his sitters sleeping on the guest bed. To prevent a nuclear war from happening, since her son did not like waking up in a room that wasn’t his room, Amie quietly separated her child from the two lovebirds and brought him to his room, tucking him in his bed for the night. Thankful that her son had fallen asleep, hoping it would stay that way, Amie decided that Damian was okay in her book. He got her child to sleep, just like he said.

After tiptoeing out of her son’s bedroom, closing the door behind her, she went to the master bedroom to find her husband. Wrapping her arms around him, she buried her face against his back, into his shirt that he still had on, that smelt like him. “Still sleeping…” She mumbled about their son.

“Really? Is he a wizard?” Jericho asked his wife, putting his hands over Amity’s and almost frowning a bit; though she couldn’t see. “Putting him to sleep is supposed to be my thingggg.” Surprisingly, Jericho sounded mostly disappointed. He turned around and put his chin on top of Amie’s head. “Did Tyty just outgrow me? Like he outgrew Sesame Street.”

“You’re his father, he’s stuck with you, but yeah, probably. He found a new method to help him sleep.” Amie teased. She liked this. She liked when their schedules weren’t filled to the brim. She liked the time they shared together. Her time with her family was when she was most happy.

“Oh noooo.” JJ whined, sighing as he kissed her atop the head. “I’ve outgrown my usefulness. All he’ll want me for now is to beat hard levels in Crash Bandicoot. I’m hurt, my heart has been ripped out of my chest. I just want to be a loving and excellent father, but now some young thundercat has moved in and put my son to sleeps,” JJ said, before pausing. A brief moment passed, before he spoke up.

“Hey, I haven’t met him. Is ‘young thundercat’ a good descriptor?”

“Yeah, I think that works. He kind of gives me Lion-o vibes. Though, he probably has a awful first impression of me… I was woken up and so was Tyty. I may have overreacted.” Amie sheepishly looked up at her lover. “He drank your juice and I yelled at him!”

“Sounds like you.”

Meanwhile, in the guest bedroom, Joy quietly caressed her boyfriend’s face. He was her’s. All her’s. And now that they were together, she could do things like this. Her kisses were slow and soft, comforting. In his hold, which loosened momentarily, she climbed on top of him, feeling his chiseled to perfection chest.

Damian didn’t stir as Joy touched him and began to straddle him. Sometime along the way, Damian had taken his shirt off; sleeping with your shirt on was next to impossible. Pants, too. In fact, all Damian had left on was his boxer briefs. He was, however, a very heavy sleeper, and it seemed Joy would have to try a little harder if she wanted to rouse him.

Challenge accepted. There were many routes Joy could take this. She didn’t know if this was the best one to choose from, but staring at his chest made her want to do it, so she did. With no restraint, Joy bit her boyfriend’s nipple. Because for some reason, that was on her mind, and she wanted to do it.

This did get a response, but it wasn’t exactly Damian waking up. Instead, it was Damian sleep talking, “owwww.” Well, rather sleep whining. Damian’s arms pulled a little more snugly around Joy, nuzzling her closer to him. “Shhhh, am sleep.”

“Damiannnnnn.” Joy whined back, squirming in his hold. This was a rough pursuit, but she couldn’t give up! A Darling never gave up. Deciding the bold route, she slid her tongue up his body until once again she was back to his face, but this time she thrusted her tongue into his mouth.

Okay, that one worked. It was hard to not wake up when something like that happened. Damian’s eyes opened as he loosened his grip on Joy slightly, pulling out of the kiss, “...good morning, Joy.” Damian said, staring up at his girlfriend. He was still tired, still half asleep, and offered a question before anything, “Where the little guy?”

Sitting up, on top of him, Joy turned toward the door, then back down at him, “My theory is Amie grabbed him. The little guy does NOT like waking up anywhere that isn’t his bedroom.” Unlike Damian, Joy still had all her clothes on. Once she was asleep, she was out until now, so she didn’t have an opportunity to ask her aunt for a change of clothes. “Also, it’s like 3am.”

“Okay, let’s make out.” Damian said. He just wanted to make sure that the little guy wasn’t around, in case things got too heated, which they were almost bound to. That being clarified, though, Damian put his hand on the back of Joy’s hand and parted his lips slightly as he pulled her mouth to his, locking their lips once again.

That didn’t last long, before Joy pulled away, “Waitttt!” Yes, she wanted this, but she wasn’t ready. Not explaining herself, Joy took off her sweater, so that she was only in her spaghetti strap tank and jeans. Yeah, no, she wasn’t going to take off her pants. If he wanted more, he’d have to work for it. “Okay, now let’s make out.”

Bringing their lips back together, she ran her hands through his hair, eyes closed, and allowed her actions and body to do the talking. Pressing her small boobs against his well defined chest, she granted access for his tongue to enter the seam of her lips. Unlike on New Years, she was completely sober and everything she did right here and right now was fully intended and not influenced by the courage of alcohol. All her thoughts were obliterated by their kiss. They didn’t need to hurry and she doubted her uncle and aunt would peak in. For once, they could savour each other’s lips, let their desire to touch each other take over, playing a big part in their instincts, and grow hotter and hotter by the second.

Instinctually, Damian wanted to roll them over so he could be on top. Instinctually. He fought against it, and instead ran his hand down her back and to her butt, gripping it as they kissed. His other hand slid up her side, to her shoulders. Once there, he carefully went about pulling her spaghetti straps down, going slowly at first to gauge her feelings. He didn’t want to pressure her, but Damian had been blue balled quite a few times already with Joy, and didn’t want it to happen again.

Although her cheeks were burning red, from her nervousness and thumping heartbeat, and her body reactively shivered when Damian’s hand trailed down her spine leading to her ass, Joy didn’t push him away. She didn’t fight against this. Instead, she anticipated for more and could feel the heat from her face traveling throughout her veins, straight to her toes. Taking the next move, she oscillated her hips, which hopefully was enough to tell him she was ready.

As her hips began to move, Damian pulled away from their kiss and moved her head to the side. He took his lips and pressed them against her neck, sucking lightly sucked on her pale flesh. He took his hands and hooked his fingers underneath her shirt, beginning to pull it up and over her torso. Damian broke the kiss on her neck as he pulled the tank-top off the rest of the way, and dropped it over to the side of the bed and down to the floor.

Then, Damian rolled them so he was on top, and smiled down at her. “Finally.” He muttered, before leaning down to kiss her on the lips once again. As if fate was against them, again, Joy’s phone began to ring, with her designated ringtone for her mother.

Gently nudging her boyfriend a little up, so she could give him an apologetic look, she whispered, “I should take this.” Yeah, she could hold off and enjoy the moment but it would kill it for her if her mother started to have a panic attack. Joy always answered when her mother called. Staying on her back, she reached to the nightstand to find her phone and answered it, “Hey mommy!” Okay, yeah, she could totally act like she wasn’t in a position to lose her virginity.

Keep calm, Joy.

It’s three in the goddamn morning? Why was Jude calling? Why didn’t anyone want them to have sex? Damian was tired of this, but he wasn’t exactly surprised that Jude was calling. She was kind of the overbearing mother type, even in comparison to his own. Rather than let the the phone call be the end of it though, Damian slid down slightly, and put his lips back on the marked spot on her neck where he’d been before. Without a word, Damian set about sucking on her neck again.

Ignore him for a phone call, huh?

Oh fucking really, Damian? “Oh? You called…. twice already? I must of… missed it.” The angel on her shoulder was telling her to push away and go somewhere private to talk to her mother, to ease her worry, but the devil on her other shoulder was telling her to prove to Damian she could do this just fine with him being lewd and stubborn. Holding her phone close to her ear, she looked up to the ceiling and focused on her breathing, “I fell asleep.... After the project, I went to... Uncle’s for dinner… and decided… to spend… the night.”

She was doing a good job, Damian had to admit. But that only encouraged him to do more. Damian sucked a little harder, and ran one of his cold hands along her now bare stomach. Really, he knew he could force Joy to make questionable noises, but he wasn’t sure if he should.

“Oh, it’s okay mom… like I said, if you— you worry. Then call me! Uh, what?” Jude was questioning why she had many pauses in her speech. Talk better, Joy! “Oh, my b! I justtt tired. I’m tired.” It was then that Damian’s other hand completed its mission, and Joy’s jeans were unbuttoned and unzipped.

Everyone knows what happens next.

Embarrassingly so, a high pitched moan escaped Joy’s lips, causing her to slap her mouth closed. “Yes, mommy?” There was brief silence as Joy tried to not do that again. What even was that? “You, mm, want to speak to… him?” Joy felt like she was caught red handed, but she didn’t know how much Jude really knew. “Okay!” Her ‘okay’ turned from low to high, quick, and then Joy rushingly tapped her phone on his head, glaring at him.

Wait, no.

Damian pulled his lips off of Joy’s neck and winked at her, before he took the phone away, and rolled onto his back, flopping onto the bed. “Hey, auntie.” He said cheerfully. Damian only had type of speaking voice: confident. “What’s going on?”

Joy wished she could hear what her mother was saying. There were a lot of words coming out of her phone, but words she could not hear. Turning her body over, she shuffled up to see if she could hear exactly what was being said. There seemed to be a ‘thanks’ in there. It was too muffled and low!

“Well, alright. I guess I’ll see you then. Bye, Jude.” Damian shrugged his shoulder and took the phone away from his ear, handing it to Joy. “I’m coming over for dinner, Saturday.” He explained as Joy took the phone, before shifting back to a more comfortable position.

“Wait, did my mom hang up without saying goodbye?” Joy stared at her phone dumbfoundedly, which no longer had her mother on the other line. “Am I in trouble? Why are you coming over for dinner? That’s really weird she didn’t say goodbye. Should I call her back?”

“Because she’s tired, no, because she loves me, no it isn’t, don’t call her back. Come snuggle so we can sleep.” Damian quickly rattled off answers to every question she’d asked, then opened his arms for her to come.

Okay, maybe she was overreacting. Maybe it wasn’t that deep. After putting her phone to the side and silencing it, she made her way to him and laid in his arms, “...so we’re going to sleep?” She asked him, wondering if her mother’s phone call killed the mood.

“Yep. Moment’s ruined, sorry baby. I love you.”

A tomato. She was a tomato. Did Joy hear that right? Did he say he— “Come again?” Joy was stunned for a round.

“I said: The moment is ruined, I'll show you the glorious pleasure of being finished inside later. Then I said sorry baby. Then I said. I.” Damian kissed her upon the lips, “Love.” Another kiss on the lips. You.” A final kiss, this time upon the nose.

Dead.

Joy was dead.

“...I love you too.” She hid her face, against his chest.

“That’s my girl.”
“If saying Everly is too hard for you.”


Okay, that seems unnecessary.

“I do so look forward to cleaning up things around here. Someone has to do it. Might as well be us!"


Now that’s just untrue. People don’t talk like that, do they?

The first person had introduced themselves, and James had to admit, it wasn’t a very good first impression, so to speak. She seemed to be, at least as far as he could tell, incredibly extra. And that wasn’t really James’s thing! He did, however, make a mental note to call her Everly forever, because fuck her and her fake smile. Nothing was too hard for him, least of all saying a name that was hardly two syllables.

“Well since the rest of you are too scared to speak up I guess I’ll go.”


Totally, that’s what it is. You didn’t just jump at the opportunity to speak before anyone else had a chance. We’re totally terrified. Jesus, what is this? The fucking Gathering?

“I’m Rowan, we aren’t friends so don’t even think of calling me anything else. Unlike princess over there, I don’t look forward to this bullshit.”


What else would we even call you? There’s no way to make that into a nickname! Princess? Is that what we’re calling her now? That’s gonna go right to her head — she seems the type.

Two down now, and this one seemed just as bad. Unnecessary aggression, check. Thinly veiled anger, check. She seemed extra too, just in different way than the girl who’d spoken before her. James was almost certain she was judging everyone before they even spoke; which he was doing too, so it was slightly hypocritical of him to think about that. James wanted a good feel for the crew he’d be dealing with though, before he spoke for himself.

"Peyton Saunders. I'm not exactly looking forward to this either, but I'm sure if we all work together we can get this done a whole lot faster- which would be ideal."


Well, Peyton… you have a point. Faster is better! Maybe if we clean up enough, they’ll let us off early. Ha. Like that will happen.

"Hopefully we can make the best of this situation. Building character doesn't sound like the worst thing, right?"


She’s not bad.

James liked her. Sure, they were in a bad way. They were stuck out here on a perfectly fine Saturday, and they had to clean up trash. This girl, though, seemed bright and pleasant; and unlike Everly, Peyton didn’t seem to be fake about it. Her tone of voice and her body language had a sort of genuinity to it, and James appreciated that. Plus, she was super cute and that was an undeniable bonus.

“Christian Hill. Please don't call me Chris. I’ll hurt you.


James didn’t have to think about how he felt about this one. Christian was his best friend, and had been for most of his life. Christian was a good dude, and a better friend. James felt bad that his friend had wound up here; after all, it was mostly James’s fault. He’d gotten in a fight, and Christian had done what any friend would do: got involved.

James’s gaze then fell on the final person in their group, who was already set about the task. Strong, silent type? No. She is wearing a shirt with the eggo logo on it. Maybe she’s on the spectrum and doesn’t understand how social situations work… Nah, most likely? She’s just a bitch. James knew that was probably the case. After all, that had been the fact of the matter with two of the other three girls, and James had a feeling Peyton was the odd one out. It wasn’t going to be a fifty-fifty ratio, that was for sure.

This sucked. He reached down and stabbed a piece of paper that was floating with the wind, and deposited it into his trash bag. Jesus, why is there so much trash here anyway? Isn’t there like, a fine for littering? After the piece of trash was securely in the bag, James looked up at the people there with him, and decided to do the introductions.

“James Hartwell. It’s nice to meet you. Shitty place to do it, but whatever. Anyway, I think she —” James pointed at the girl who’d already set about picking up the trash with his poker. “— has the right idea. Why don’t we just get to work?” With that, he stabbed downward, skewering another piece of trash and dumping it in the bag again.

“Saving the world, one Skittles wrapper at a time.”
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