#“you hear this shit they’re setting off fire works what the fuck

[ghostintheatticc]

like father, like son

[lushrue]

141 + könig & graves as college professors (fem!reader) nsfw, mdni

cw: p-in-v sex, creampie, semi-public sex, power imbalance/unethical relationship, age gap (everyone's legal), oral (f!receiving), bondage, oral (m!receiving)

price teaches military strategy, a more theoretical and scientific look at war and battle tactics. he’s done the field work, he knows what it takes to physically carry out a mission. but he values the skill behind the planning a bit more than the execution. would definitely give real-world examples with missions he’s carried out with as much detail as he can provide. has classes outside some days. he tells his students it’s because the weather’s nice, but he really just wants to smoke.

he’s one to stare when you show up to class in a short skirt or low-cut top. he’s not shy about it, but he’s tactful, not letting his gaze settle for too long. won’t fuck you in his office, too nervous his colleagues would hear. so he comes to your dorm room sometimes when your roommate’s out, or he’ll take you to a hotel and treat you nice with room service and the whole deal. absolutely obsessed with the way his cum drips down your thighs, takes some pictures to jerk off to later.

ghost maybe teaches something like warfare tactics. something that would only be taught at a military college, something hands-on. he takes his job educating the next generation of soldiers seriously. insists that his course have both a lecture and lab section. he’s getting his students up at the ass-crack of dawn to run drills, even if they’re not currently serving. they wanted to know how to win a war, so he’ll show them.

kinda hard to convince, tbh. he’s fine pushing the bounds when it comes to rules of engagement, but this? still, when you prove yourself, when you beat out everyone else on the obstacle course, he jumps at the chance for some extra tutoring sessions with you. the fact that you look good in a sports bra and leggings is just a bonus. he’ll definitely fuck you in the gym bathroom after a training session. he’ll drag you into a stall and lock the door, hold you up if your legs are too tired from the workout he put you through.

soap teaches something not military-related, i think. maybe chemistry or physics with his demolitions background? very into demonstrations in his classes, likes to make shit blow up or fly across the room for the wow factor. he’s set the fire alarms off in the science lab more than once. definitely has a high score on rate my professor, one of the most sought after in the whole physical science department.

fucks you in the science lab. you’d come to him during office hours, cause the subjects he teaches have a really low pass rate. it’d start with actual homework help before devolving into heavy petting and kisses as a reward for correct answers. he’ll test your concentration, making you recite newton’s laws or the ratio of reactant to product. when you fumble, he’ll just chuckle and mumble something about how your head is too fuzzy for science. not too fuzzy for him to bully his cock into you, though.

gaz teaches something intro level. we’re talking “intro to military studies” or “intro to war and peace”. he’s really lenient on due dates, doesn’t have the really strict attitude that a lot of intro level professors have. he’s chill, one of those professors that does everything he can to work with you. won’t suffer a slacker, though. if you don’t do the work, don’t expect him to round your grade up at the end of the semester.

he won’t fuck you while you’re still enrolled in one of his classes. he knows himself, the temptation would be too strong if he had to see you for 55 minutes three times a week and couldn’t touch you. so he waits until the semester is over. but best believe he’s dragging you into some secluded corner of the building the minute you hand in your final. tells you about every single time he’s wanted to touch you, every time you’ve almost made him break his own rule. he makes it up to you, though, eating you out in the hallway and making you come on his tongue twice.

könig teaches german. falling a bit into the stereotype here, but i feel like this man has a really strong love of country. he’d definitely teach the culture alongside the language. he probably has an oktoberfest celebration for his students, lets the older ones drink beer if they want. he tells stories all the time about growing up in austria and will get sidetracked for a whole class just talking about life.

when he’s trying to seduce you, he’s a gentle giant. always cooing praises at you about how pretty you are, how well you’re taking to the language, that you’re a natural. but the moment you give in, he lets himself indulge. everything he’s ever wanted to act out, he does with you. if he’s stroked his thick cock to someone else doing it on his computer screen, he wants to try. it’s how you find yourself tied up in his bed, silk rope wrapped around your body as he fucks your throat. always dirty talks to you in german, giving you praise when you figure out what he’s saying.

graves teaches something niche, a class on terrorism in America or something like that. he gets really into it too. he’s known for being really animated in his lectures, gets really loud sometimes. other professors hate having a class in the lecture hall next to his. appreciates the students who stay after class to talk to him more in depth about his lectures. he knows the material can be dull sometimes, but he always has a few that are really passionate about what he teaches.

you’re one of those few. he’s embarrassed to admit that he falls for you, the way your eyes sparkle when he starts talking about some fringe terror group he helped to squash when he was serving. you always give him your rapt attention and he eats it up. takes you on dates to nice restaurants a few towns over so you won’t run into anyone either of you know. likes to fuck you over his desk after office hours are over. once, he shoved his boxers in your mouth and fucked you in the middle of the afternoon, when anyone could walk in. that time was your favorite.

[kakujis]

do you love me? 3;

synopsis: they wake you up at 3am and ask if you love them. 1 + 2 + 4

ft: hanma, ran, and rindou.

warnings: gn!reader, insecurities, clingy bfs, jealous!rindou, swearing, mentions of drinking, not proofread, reader is a lil mean in hanma's ): and thaat should be it!

a/n: is it me or are these getting longer?! anyways, here's part 3! the last one will be mitsuya, draken, and chifuyu! i’m running out of steam thinkin’ of scenarios uh oh. anyway, writing ran's bit was so much fun, since i feel like he's a goofy loverboy. i kind of struggled w rindou’s but i hope it still falls together nicely! ALSO WHY IS HIS SO LONG WTF and here's a special lil tag for @fuyuluvr ♡

the city is quiet as the hum of a motorcycle comes to a stop. hanma’s not sure how he ended up here, well actually he is, subconsciously driving straight to the one place that always riles him up, setting his veins on fire faster than the rush of a zipline. 

he hums to himself, taking off his helmet, and nudging down his kick stand. he looks upwards, toward your bedroom window, his heart already starting to flutter in his chest. stuffing his hands into his jacket, he walks up, getting ready to scale up towards your window. he glances around, although no one’s around in this dead of night, he would rather not have anyone calling the cops on him. 

they’re probably asleep, he thinks, as he peers back up, nails digging into the stone as he uses his leg to boost himself up. he hoists himself until he’s up to the sil, laughing a little to himself when he notices you left it open like you were expecting him. 

he tumbles in, knocking over your lamp in the process. “oops.” he says. meanwhile, the crash has you bolting awake, screaming, no, screeching as you grab your alarm clock, holding it up, ready to throw or swing. 

he throws his hands up defensively as he approaches, “it’s me!” and in your sleep deprived state you scramble back, the grip on your device tightening. 

hanma barks out a laugh, before he switches on your bedside lamp. “hi baby. ♡” he chirps, seeing your shoulders slump as you settle, a particularly loud sigh escaping you as you place one hand over your chest. he kicks his shoes off as he jumps onto your bed, diving straight into your comforter, laying on his stomach. 

“you scared the shit out of me!” you yell, “besides, what time is it?” you look at the device in your hand before you realize it’s off, ripped straight out the socket. frowning, you toss it onto the floor, before crossing your arms and facing him. 

“you were really gonna fuck me up, huh?” he muses, honey eyes twinkling at the idea of you actually swinging on him. he would’ve dodged of course, but it would’ve given him an excuse to grab you and have you underneath him. 

you sigh again, “shuji, i don’t have time for this. i’ve got a work meeting tomorrow morning.” you grab your blankets, shimmying underneath them and pulling them up, “we can hang out this weekend or something,” you yawn. 

“eh?” is all you hear as you turn over, shutting your eyes in hopes of getting some sleep. maybe he’d fall asleep with you or maybe he’d leave, but the only thing that’s really on your mind is this stupid meeting. just a few more days until the weekend, has been your new mantra, if you can just tough it out, you’ll be golden. 

it’s quiet for a few minutes, but the dip in your bed is still there and soon enough he’s asking, “do you love me?”

“no, shuji, of course i don’t…” you start, sarcasm tinting your voice as you roll back over, but you stop when you see his defeated expression. it’s different from the shuji you know, his solemn eyes studying you, as he nervously plays with your sheets in one hand. 

hanma shuji has been so damn bored. it’s been like this ever since you got a job, constant “i can’t”s, and “maybe next time, shu.” he wants so badly to go on late night rides with you again, the sound of your laughter ripping over the roar of his motorcycle.

he wants to stay up with you until sunrise, at the top of your favorite hill, hands intertwined and shoulders brushing. he wants to snap pictures of you at the top of this hill, thinking you're prettier than any sunrise. you make him feel like he’s invincible and that everything’s okay.  

shuji has been so bored, but more so than that, he’s been lonely, unsteady. he misses you so fucking much, nothing’s as fun without you, everything’s dull like the world’s covered in sepia. 

“c’mere,” you say, opening your arms and he crawls forward, collapsing into you. “i love you, shuji, i do.. and i’m sorry.” 

you realize now how distant you’ve been. unbeknownst to the two of you, just how stressful a new job could be, you were just trying to jumble a new set schedule but you had been snappier, neglectful, and even downright mean at times.

shuji tried his best to accomodate you, going off on night rides by himself, always saying, “it’s alright.” when you’d turn him down again. he tried to busy himself more with his friends, but his mind always wandered to what you’d be doing - did you miss him too? - checking his texts every now and then in hopes there’d be a new message. 

“shuji?” you whisper when he doesn’t respond and you think he has every right to be upset with you. but instead he says, “yeah?” his face suddenly dangerously close to yours, the tip of his nose lingers by yours and your face heats up at the proximity. 

“um,” you stutter and soon there’s a smirk dancing on his face, “d-did you hear me?” 

“i heard you. loud and clear, ♡” he says, lips ghosting over yours, “i was just replayin’ it in my head.” 

shuji always has you melting and tonight is no different, so you close your eyes and let him kiss you. deep, sweet, and full of all the things the two of you don’t know how to say. you pout when he pulls away and he grins, “so cute.” 

an idea strikes you then as you gaze at the love of your life. “hey… wanna go for a ride?” besides, what's the harm in losing a little sleep?

the way he perks up has you giggling, you’re sure if he had a tail it’d be wagging a mile a minute. he’s practically beaming, as he starts to pull you up and off the bed. he stops for a second, head tilted and finger on his chin, “wait, don’t you have a meeting at in a couple hours?” 

you nod, “yeah, so bring me home by 5?” you smile at him as you reach for a jacket.

“i can do that.” 

ran:

for the first time in his life, ran haitani cannot fall asleep. he lays there, one arm resting above his head, the only noise being the sound of your soft snores as his mind continues to wander. he thinks about the dinner you two had earlier.  it was dumb, the entire situation, your friends were clearly too drunk to be saying reasonable things. ran knew this, he’s been the same way countless times before.

but when she hiccuped, arm slung around you, “maann, can’t believe you ended up with ran! you used to only talk about rindou in high school ehe.” ran felt his stomach drop. 

you froze at that, quickly glancing at ran whose face was otherwise unreadable. she continued, incessantly giggling, “seriously seriously! everyday was ‘man rindou looked sooo cu’-“

“thats enough!” you had said, placing a palm over her mouth to muffle her. “lets get you home, okay?” desperately glancing at the rest of your friends, who took the hint and helped her out of there. 

ran remembered how after everyone left, you had tried to talk to him, “listen..” your hand reaching towards his. 

but for some reason, he had stopped you. “it’s fine, people say dumb shit when they’re drunk,” he mused, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “don’t worry about it.” 

and maybe the reason was that he was scared, scared to hear you admit that yeah, you did like his brother. and when that didn’t work out, you settled on him. 

he shakes his head, getting up from the bed and padding over to the bathroom. turning the faucet, he douses cold water on his face. don’t be stupid, ran. 

when he walks out, he stops when he sees you sitting up, sleepily rubbing your eyes. “ran?” you mumble, “are you okay?” 

he settles back into an easy grin, walking over and climbing back in. “yeah, i’m alright.” 

“liar.” 

he blinks. “what’d you just say?”

“i said, you’re a liar.” you huff, placing your hands on his cheeks, swiveling his head towards yours. “you’re upset.” 

“and why do you think that?” he says, but there’s a red tint dusting on his cheeks, and his eyes flicker from you to various objects around the room. 

“first of all, you’re awake,” you emphasize, “when is ran ‘if i don't get enough sleep i’ll kill you and your family’ haitani awake at 3am? hm?” you dart your head every time he tries to look away trying to stay in his vision. 

he sighs, “okay, you got me.” he stills, looking at you with a crease in his brow. “do you love me? and.. was what your friend said right? that you used to like my brother?” 

you soften at his question, “of course i do. i love you and only you. let me explain?” 

he nods and you drop your hands, opting to intertwine them with his. sighing, you begin, “okay so, in high school there was this… friend- okay no i hated that bitch-“ 

you give ran a look as he whistles, caught off guard by your vitriol, as he motions you to continue on with a little grin, “don’t mind me.” 

“there was this acquaintance,” you continue and ran nods, “and every single guy i was into she would try to take them from me, so i pretended to like rindou because.. i was scared.. she would actually get together with you.” 

its your turn to burn with embarrassment, looking down at your interlocked hands as you reveal the secret you kept for so long. you glance up at ran and groan out a “what?!” when you notice his shit-eating grin. 

“i’m really a catch, eh?” he teases and you scrunch your nose. “don’t make that face,” he points, “you’re the one who tried to gatekeep me.” 

“ugh fine,” you pout, your face on fire,  “this is so embarrassing… ah!” ran pulls you down, hugging you tightly. “ran?” 

“man, i feel like a million bucks! who would’ve thought the person i’d been chasin’ all throughout highschool felt the same way. i should’ve asked you out sooner.” he pinches your cheek, cooing, “my baby.” 

you can’t even focus on the fact that he casually mentioned the two of you were mutual crushing for so long. if you could die from embarrassment you would. on the flipside, if ran could die from love, he would. he’s never admitted it before, but he’s always felt a little insecure, so he hides it behind a mask that only you get to uncover. 

“did i ever meet her?” he asks, face to face with you. he can’t stop smiling, instead continuing to poke your cheek as you pout. 

“hmm, maybe. i dunno, i tried to avoid her a lot of the time.” you answer, “why?” 

“cause if i did, you wouldn’t even have to worry about it.” he says, running the pad of his thumb over your cheek. “i’ve only had eyes for you after all.” 

was he always this cheesy? seriously, you might die. “i’m gonna die,” you profess, your face and body on fire, moving your hands up to hide your expression behind them. “if you continue, i’ll seriously die.” 

“dying in my arms is super romantic though.” he muses, “i bet it’d be a dream come true for you.” 

“shut up!” you groan, burying your face into the pillow. 

“babe, seriously, it’s a dream of mine. romeo and juliet, who?” 

“ran haitani, shut up!”

rindou: 

rindou haitani was seething. on the outside, he had it all. a club that he owned with his brother, able to play his music to an excited crowd, and to top it all off, a loving partner who did their best to support him. but on the inside, he was someone who hid from his emotions, snuffing them out before they had their chance to reach the surface and maybe that’s why, in rare moments, when he couldn’t snuff them out he waited until you fell asleep to think about them. 

maybe it was his fault for inviting you out, but it’s always been a dream of his to watch you dance to his music. at first you refused, something about how crowds aren’t really your thing. but he persisted, noting how you always dance for him when he plays his music so why not do it at his club? 

“besides, you always get along with everyone you meet, just try it.” he insisted, beaming when you said “okay, just this once.” 

he wasn’t usually jealous, something he prided himself on, that you could hang out with whoever you wanted whenever you wanted and he’d have no issue. but tonight things were different. you looked amazing under the neon, pulsing lights, feeling the beat down to your bones as you swayed and moved on the dance floor. 

ran was supposed to stay close to you, but the two of you got separated by the mass of bodies. from his view up top though, rindou could see you clearly, and when someone came up to you to dance, he was sure you would deny them. but perhaps it was the slight buzz of alcohol running through your veins or maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through you that caused you to say yes. 

you didn’t grind on them, thankfully, but still, the way you laughed and cheered, eyes fully on them was like a kick to rindou’s gut. at one point, they leaned in to say something to you and rindou almost stopped his set, wanting to take you home immediately. but instead, he grit his teeth and kept playing. 

he didn’t have the heart to tell you anything on the way home either, the way you excitedly bounced up and down detailing to him about how much fun you had and how you’d love to go again. he shut those emotions down again, instead laying a hand over yours, smiling and saying, “i’m glad you had fun, love.” 

but now as he lay there in your shared bed, one arm around you as you slept on his chest, he was steaming. he has a continuous fight with himself in his head over it, how he isn’t the type to dance anyway, so it’s fine if you have fun dancing with someone else. but also, have you ever had that much fun with him before? like you did tonight with some stranger? he’s so pissed off he can’t remember, especially when he thinks about how close they were to his baby. 

when rindou is lost in his head, he never notices the things he does outwardly to keep himself calm. like the tapping on your arm or the shake of his leg, but you do, rousing out of sleep, peeking one eye up at him. 

“rinnie?” you croak, voice hoarse from the amount of shouting and laughing you did tonight. “you okay?” 

he looks down at you, unable to control the frustration clearly etched across his face. “i’m fine. go back to sleep.” 

“no.” you say, even in your half-asleep state you can tell that something’s up, “what’s wrong.” 

“nothing.” he huffs, trying his best to not let his emotions get the best of him. but if there’s one thing rindou hates, it’s talking about his feelings.

you pause, trying to think your words over carefully. “did i do something wrong?” he doesn’t respond, and you mull it over again, when an answer comes to you. “oh… i won’t go to the club anymore, if that’s what you want, i bet i looked pretty lame dancing out there-“

“no!” he interrupts, “no… you looked amazing…besides, i love watching you dance.” 

“then what is it, rindou? i can’t read your mind, y’know?” you remind him and his face softens. 

“i know…” he replies, and you wait for him to continue. that’s something that he’s grateful for, that when he does talk, you never rush him, letting him go at his own pace. “it’s just… did you have to dance with that guy tonight?” he mumbles, voice trailing off so that it’s barely audible. 

“hm? i didn’t hear you, did i have to..?” you ask,  tilting your head. 

“did you have to dance with that stupid dude tonight?!” he nearly yells, rushing out his words and you blink, a little taken aback. 

“oh…” you realize, he’s jealous. you realize now that from where he was looking it probably did look bad, his partner, dancing and laughing it up with a stranger. “i’m sorry, i didn’t know that bothered you so much…” 

for some reason, that sets rindou off and he scoffs, pissed off once again. of course he’d be annoyed, of course he’d be jealous. you’re his partner. “do you love me?” 

his question comes out more like an accusation and you hate it because it stings. in turn you say, “i do. do you trust me?” 

he wants to bite back, but when he looks at you, he can’t. you look so hurt, he sighs, rubbing his temple with his free hand, “… sorry. i do trust you. i’m bad at this.” 

“i know,” you say and he glances at you, surprised, which makes you smile. “you’re awful at telling me how you feel, so you act all cool and tough instead.” 

“aren’t you mad at me?” he asks, your sudden smile catching him off guard. 

“hmm… not really mad, just a little hurt is all.” you say, because even though he was the one who told you that you get along with everyone you meet, you know rindou inside and out, culminating from the many years the two of you have shared together. 

rindou doesn’t want to seem controlling, but because of that he neglects to establish his boundaries, too focused on how comfortable you feel. it’s his own weird way of control, if he doesn’t push you, let’s you do your thing, then you’ll stay. you won’t leave him like he’s scared you’ll do if he ever says no.

he apologizes again, his frustration turning to shame. you're so patient, even when he snaps at you or can't find the words. but you shake your head, “thanks for telling me. let me know what bothers you, please?” 

“i’ll try,” he mumbles, glancing away, and you know that means that next time he probably won’t. he’ll most likely bury those feelings deep inside until you catch wind, but it’s the fact that he’ll at least try that makes you happy. it’s okay, you’ll always be there when he needs it. 

you settle back into your original position, closing your eyes and within a few minutes, you’re dozing off asleep. 

tonight really did a number on you, he thinks, while playing with your hair, maybe i should be more honest with you… i love you. 

but there's a few things that rindou doesn’t realize. like how he’s talking out loud, or that you’re still just barely awake, his “i love you,” warming you up like the morning sun. as much as you wanna mention it when you wake up, you also don’t wanna embarrass him. for now, you’ll keep this a secret.♡

[bullet-prooflove]

Ask Me Again: Brock Reynolds x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @fandom-oneshots-etc @sealteambravo @icyybecca @xmoonknightlyx

Companion piece to:

Buried Socks: Ceberus has a unique way of showing how much he misses you.

Brock realises he wants to marry you during a firefight in Afghanistan. His team is pinned down on one of the roads leading up to the compound where they’re situated. It’s an ambush, one they didn’t expect because they’re practically on home turf, they can see the fucking fence in the distance but as ordered no one is coming out to help.

I swear to Jesus, he prays as the firestorm rages on around him. If you get us the fuck out of here I will put a ring on that woman’s finger.

It’s then that a sniper’s bullet takes down the operator of the machine gun mounted on the back of one of the insurgent’s Jeeps. It’s followed by another and then another until the tide turns and they’re able to take out the assault team and haul ass to the encampment.

It’s an hour later that you show up. Your rifle is slung over your shoulder and there’s a checkered head scarf covering your hair. The front of your clothing is covered in dust from lying in the dirt, your gun trained on the junction where they were attacked.

“You’re in a lot of trouble Nightingale, Commander Harrington is looking to tear you a new one.” One of the guys on the gate tells you and you shrug your shoulders because you don’t really give a fuck, not when you’ve just saved the life of the man you love and his team.

They call you The Nightingale because you’re beautiful, deadly and your first name is Florance. Your commanding officer calls you a complete pain in the ass and worse when he reams you out for insubordination. They can hear it vibrating through the command post as he bellows so loud at one point his voice breaks. His problem is, he can’t get rid of you. You’re on loan to the Navy from the Army because there’s a shortage of snipers with your skill set. So he has to put up with your shit otherwise the Army takes their shiny toy away and leaves them in the hands of someone far less capable.

It's that night that Brock sneaks into your quarters, the same way he’s been doing every night since you took up residence on base. He fucks you into the mattress, his palm clasped over your mouth because his girl gets a little loud when she’s coming on his cock and these walls are paper thin.

It’s in the aftermath when he’s laying tangled up in that single cot with you that he proposes to you. You’re draped across his chest,  half asleep, when he tips your chin up to meet his gaze.

“Marry me.” He whispers, his thumb chasing over the apple of your cheek.

“Ask me when we get home.” You say and it feels like a knife plunging into his chest. “You had a close call today…”

“That’s not what this is.” He responds and you give him that look, the one he fucking hates because it makes him feel like he’s being overemotional. “It isn’t!”

“Would you have asked me if this hadn’t happened?” You say, shifting so you’re in a sitting position against the wall.

The truth is no, probably not and it pisses him off because it shouldn’t take a fucking fire fight to remind him just how fleeting life can be, how precious you are to him.

“Think about it.” You say softly as he takes up residence against the wall alongside you. Your fingers entwine with his and he tilts his head towards you so he can look into your eyes. “And if you still feel the same way when we get home, get a ring and ask me again.”

Love Brock? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[mirage-aera]

Hi, I’m new here! I’m not sure if requests are open or if you’re currently writing for ghost, but could we have a scenario where there is a new female ghoul and they’re trying to figure out where they fit in the hierarchy. She’s bratty and challenges sodo, but he’s having none of it and it gets a bit smutty/suggestive and has her submitting. Thank you and my apologies if you don’t write anything like this!

Hello there! They are open, so thank you for the request. I am also terribly sorry for the very long wait. I have been having trouble with my writing motivation but it's back!

•°. *࿐ Rocky start

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Take Me Back To Eden - Sleep Token

Sodo x fem!reader

The new ghoulette challenges Sodo, he’s not amused in the slightest.

Word count: 1.590

Ghost masterlist

It’s been a while since you’ve been summoned to the top. You were summoned to replace Aether for the upcoming tour while he stays back to help around the clergy. Copia and the other ghouls and ghoulettes have noticed that you are having a harder time adjusting to the surface than previous ghouls. For a quintessence ghoulette, you’re a bit more snappy than usual. As days go by, some ghoul’s patience is running thin. That certain ghoul is Sodo. There isn’t a time of day when you two aren’t arguing. To their confusion, you are a lot more agitated around Sodo than the others. Yes, you have your moments with the others but it’s never as bad as it is when you’re around the fire ghoul. Sodo has noticed it too and isn’t too thrilled, to say the least.

You’re in the practice room with the rest of the band, rehearsing for the upcoming shows. Currently, you are on a short break so everyone is conversing or playing something random. Sodo is trying to fix his solo since he kept messing it up previously during the rehearsal. You, wanting to annoy him a little bit, decide to play the solo as well but add your little twist. As he's nearing the solo you start getting ready and crank your amp up. You both start playing, at first he doesn't notice but as he messes up again, he growls and throws his pick across the room. You, however, continue playing. You finish his solo perfectly. You place your guitar down and give him a sly smirk, "wanna try again, Sodo?" Some snickers could be heard throughout the room. He snarls and flips you off, "yeah yeah, whatever." Just as you open your mouth to say something Copia pipes up, "Alright, ghouls and ghoulettes. From the top!"

***

As the rehearsal goes on. Everyone within the room can tell how fired up Sodo is. At least, more than usual. He plays with a lot more passion, aggression, and spirit. At some point during the rehearsal, you were going to match or top his attitude to get a rise out of him, but the look that Copia gives you says enough. It’s like he’s saying, ‘Don’t aggravate him further.’ And for once, you pull back a little on your playing and continue as if there isn’t tension in the room. An early practice already sets off the fire ghoul and topping it with your attitude isn’t the ideal morning for the said ghoul.

You can see from the corner of your eye that he’s fiddling with his pedals. His guitar and pedals have been giving issues as of late, during practice and the rituals. “Fuck!! Stupid thing won’t work!” He shouts out with frustration. He fiddles with it once more before giving up and throwing his pick at it. “Maybe if you stop throwing shit at it, it would work.” You mumble out. He hears it and snaps his head to you, “what did you just say?” he asks in a low tone. “I said, maybe if you stop throwing shit and kicking at it, it would work.” He glares at you, “maybe if you mind your own business I can get it to work.” He retaliates. Copia sighs, “(Y/n), take over his parts until he fixes it. We don't have time for this.” You nod and smile triumphantly at Sodo. “Oh! Of course, she gets my parts! What a fucking joke.” Copia gives him a pointed look, “Sodo if you need a minute to cool off, feel free to do it outside of this room.” He takes of the strap of his guitar and holds the guitar by its neck and storms off, “fine!! You don't need me anyway! Do this stupid rehearsal without me!” and with that he slams the door behind him closed. Looks are exchanged with each other throughout the room.

“Should one of us talk to him?”

“He won't set the clergy on fire, right?”

“Maybe one of us should go after him, to calm him down.”

“I can go.” You propose to the group. Swiss chuckles, “no offense, he hates you the most. You'll just set him off more.” Copa sighs and pinches his nose bridge, “no one needs to go after him. He’ll calm down on his own. And no, he won't set the clergy on fire. He has enough self-control. Okay from the top now, 5, 6, 7, 8.” You all look at each other and shrug. Deciding to trust his judgment you continue playing, without Sodo.

***

You can't help but dwell on Swiss’ words the whole morning. ‘He hates you the most.’ It hurts to think about it. ‘Does he actually hate you?’ you ask yourself. You hope not, you actually like him a bit, even if it doesn't look like it. You walk mindlessly through the halls of the clergy, some halls you haven’t even seen before. Eventually, you reach the gardens. You decide to spend a couple of hours there. You look around the scenery. It is well kept by the earth ghouls. You spot Mountain among them, you smile and give him a subtle wave. He notices and smiles and waves back. You see a tree near the pond where the water ghouls like to spend their time, especially during the warm summer heat. You take a seat at the base of the tree and watch the handful of water ghouls swim around, splash around, and relaxing. You look around some more and you see the air ghouls playing around with the kits. And the fire ghouls... well they are being typical fire ghouls. Messing around with the other ghouls and goofing off. Even the few multie ghouls that the clergy has are scattered about. They’re spending time with the other elements. But you see no quintessence ghouls. What are their roles? What is your role in the clergy? Eventually, the sun sets and the ghouls are heading back inside. You, however, decide to take in the serenity of the garden while you can.

You spend how many minutes before Aether walks up to you. You look up at him and give him a questioning look. “I thought I'd find you here. Come inside, before they start eating your dinner.” You nod and take his hand that he outstretched for you. He pulls you up and leads you inside.

“Aether?” he hums in acknowledgment. “What do we quintessence ghouls do? All the other elements are outside doing different stuff.” He chuckles, “is this why you are bothering Sodo so much? He's your mate, isn't he?” You slap him on the arm, to which he laughs at. You're only proving his point. “Well, we help out the papa’s if they need it. We also occasionally help out Sister Imperator and the other sisters and brothers. A simple job really, not much to it if I do say so myself.” You thank him, and before you know it you're at the dinner table. You sit across from Sodo, who's picking at his food. All the other ghouls and ghoulettes at the table have already finished if not, almost finished with their food. Sodo usually finishes by now. You put your knife and fork down, “Sodo?” He raises a brow, acknowledging you but not saying a word. “I’m sorry about earlier during rehearsals, and for the earlier weeks. I have been giving you a hard time for no reason.” Sodo grunts before standing up and stalking over towards you. He wraps his hand around your arm and pulls you up from your chair. Aether looks at you to ask if you need him to intervene. You shake your head, wanting to see what Sodo wants. He drags you out of the mess hall. He walks over to his room and nearly throws you inside. He pins you to the wall and gets close to you, so close that you can feel him heavily breathing. “You know we are mates, correct?” He asks you. You nod timidly, clearly having lost your tongue. “Then why have you been giving me a hard time the whole fucking time since you have arrived here?! You have been nothing but rude to me, insulting me, trying to put me down. I can't even hate you for it, because I love you too much.” You raise a brow, “you love me? Even after all of that?” He nods, “when you have a mate, you just want to be close with them, love them. But you make it so fucking difficult. Why have you been doing this?”

You sigh, “I don't know.” He looks at you incredulously, “you don't know?” He repeats. You hesitate before continuing, “I loved you, I still do. I just didn't know where I belonged. I was confused, angry, and upset for being suddenly summoned, expected to know everything and take over Aether’s position so soon. And I took it out on you, I realize it was wrong of me to do so. I'm sorry Sodo.” He loosens his hold on you, “you could've just said so. We would've helped you. I would've helped you. All you needed to do was ask.” You hang your head low, ashamed of your actions. He lifts your chin up with his finger, “but I forgive you. We are mates after all. We can't be separated.”

You give him a look, “does this mean?…” you trail off. He chuckles, “I'm yours, and you are mine. At last.” You smile brightly, “I like the sound of that. You're mine, and I'm yours.”

[punkassfrance]

The Ponderosa Wolves - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Wet Hot American Summer (Work length ~1.9k) This work is rated M to be safe. Expect vulgarity, not explicit content. This chapter contains: mentions of raccoon violence. Owen mentions. Full Series - Next Chapter

Abby

“Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me.”

Abby pulls the screen closer to her face as she sits up in bed, her mouth opening as she parses the news before her. The caption beneath the photo confirms what she didn’t want to know.

Baby Moore coming December 2025!

Mel is holding up ultrasound photos on Instagram, smiling wide with Owen’s arms around her. He’s looking down at her with a grin, hands resting on her stomach. They both look too happy.

Abby throws her phone down on the bed seconds before she hears it buzz, groaning and resting her head in her hands. They broke up less than four months ago and he’s already knocked up his new girlfriend? It doesn’t take long to do the math in her head—they must have started dating the week after her and Owen broke up, if not the same day. She doesn’t want to consider the possibility that it was any sooner than that, but it’s not out of the question.

Whatever. It’s not her concern. They’re not together anymore, not even on speaking terms, what does she care? He can father enough children to fill a daycare, it wouldn’t affect her in the slightest. He’s not her problem anymore, and if Mel thinks she can deal with him, more power to her.

Rubbing her face, Abby peeks between her fingers at her phone lying on the bed, screen lit up with notifications. Most are from Nora. She grabs it and opens up their messages, scrolling through. The first message is a screenshot of the post.

I’m so sorry Abs

He’s a total dick

God, poor Mel

Are either of them thinking at all? They’ve only been together three months, neither of them have a degree yet lmao

The math isn’t mathing

Need to call?

Abby smirks at Nora’s rambling. She’s right, of course—it’s a shitty move to pull. Even if he doesn’t owe Abby anything anymore, it’s just stupid. There’s no way he doesn’t know how this looks, how badly this could go, how many ways he could fail and take Mel down with him. As much as she wants to hate Mel, she can’t quite bring herself to. She knows firsthand what it’s like to convince herself Owen is the one.

There’s a few messages from Manny too, one of them a screenshot of the post.

the fuuuuuuuuuuck

this has to be a bad joke

what a dumbass

you want me to kill him for you

that motherfucker im gonna go kill him rn

Abby snorts, firing back a quick I know, right before she responds to Nora.

No, I’m fine

Gonna shut off my phone for a bit, love you

She lets it power down and sets it on her nightstand, curling up on her side when she hears a gentle knock on her door.

“Yeah?”

The knob turns and her father steps in, smiling softly as he peeks through the doorway. She’s not sure when he got home from work, but he’s already changed out of his scrubs.

“Hey, honey. How was your day?”

Abby presses her lips together as she pulls a spare blanket over her shoulders, pulling it in to her chest. She shrugs, looking down. “Could have been worse, I guess. Registered for my fall classes, got everything I wanted.”

“Alright, score!” His smile falters a bit as he steps into the room. “I, uh…just got off the phone with Marlene.”

Abby sits up at the mention of Marlene. She knows her father talks to their family friend at least once a week, but she doesn’t often hear the details of their conversations. “How is she?”

“Oh she’s alright, just fine, but…Leah’s mom had a bit of an accident.”

Abby sits up, brows drawing together. “Shit. What kind of accident?”

“A really vague one Marlene wouldn’t give me details about.”

“How bad is it?”

He shrugs softly, crossing his arms as he leans against her doorway. “Sounds like she’ll pull through, but Leah needs to go back home for a bit to help out. Marlene’s gonna be short a counselor at camp for a few weeks.” He grimaces softly, glancing up from the ground to Abby.

Abby narrows her eyes. She knows that look. “Okay…?”

“…I told Marlene I’d ask if you wanted to step in.”

She sighs, eyes wandering as she thinks. She’s got a few more months before she goes back to campus; a few weeks at Marlene’s camp wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. As nice as the break has been, she’s getting restless. It wouldn’t hurt to spend some time in the woods after the news she just got, either.

“I mean—” Abby trails off, looking back up to her father. “…details?”

“Marlene’s got four middle school girls who need a counselor coming on Sunday for the next two weeks. You’d go up tomorrow to settle in, she’ll cover your gas. You’ll get paid, of course; I know you’re not going to want to work while you’re studying. She could really use a hand, but if you just want to relax for your summer break, that’s totally alright.” He takes a step forward, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Either way, she needs to know soon.”

It only takes Abby a moment to think about it. “…yeah. Alright, I’m in.”

-

Ellie

“Damn, that sucks.” Jesse takes a sip of his soda, free hand tucked into his pocket. “What are the odds of that?”

“The odds of getting attacked by a raccoon when you’re stupid enough to try to chase them away from your trash? Pretty high.” Ellie pushes a strand of hair out of her face, glancing over at Dina standing by the register. She chews on the straw of her milkshake, lost in thought as Dina pays for her drink.

“They don’t usually attack, though, do they?”

“Smacking it with a broom probably didn’t help.”

Jesse shrugs as Dina walks back to join them, ponytail swaying as she waves goodbye to the cashier.

“Dina, did you hear about Leah’s mom?” Jesse wraps an arm around her as she slides up beside him.

“She got mauled by a bunch of raccoons.” Ellie deadpans, sipping her milkshake.

“Uh, I thought it was just one raccoon?” Dina raises an eyebrow as she taps her nails on the plastic cup in her hands, incredulity tinting her voice.

“That’s not as fun to picture, though. What are you, the fun police?”

Ellie pushes open the door and steps out onto the concrete, holding it open for Jesse and Dina to follow. She inhales the smell of the woods, heat sizzling off asphalt of the empty parking lot. Most of the convenience store’s customers just walk over from the campsite a half mile away; she’s not sure why they have a parking lot at all. Regardless, she’s glad the store is here. The kids love to walk over during their free time, and it’s nice to have a steady sugar supply when the cafeteria is on a health kick.

Summer is in full swing in the mountains. Even in jean shorts and a black t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, slathered in sunscreen, Ellie’s still struggling with the heat. If they weren’t in-between sets of campers, someone might try to fight her on the dress code, but in the moment she’d rather die than cover up any more.

“Well, who’s filling her position? Marlene’s already got the girls in Leah’s cabin planned out.”

“Dunno. Joel said she’s already put her usual backups with the high schoolers. The only one who has any middle school experience is a guy.”

Dina grimaces, pressing her lips together as the three of them start the short walk back to camp around the edge of the lake. “You don’t think she’s going to cram the girls into full cabins?”

“God, I hope not.” Ellie shudders. It’s only happened once before, but the cabins only have so many mattresses. Sleeping on the floor for two weeks had fucked up her back for the rest of last summer.

“Ugh, that would suck,” Dina says, raising the straw of her fountain drink to her lips.

“What do you care? You ditched us for the high schoolers.” Ditching might be a bit dramatic, but it’s not exactly wrong. Last year, Dina had been in the cabin right beside Ellie’s, both of them working with middle schoolers and sneaking over in the middle of the night to mess around when the girls were asleep. Their arrangement had ended unceremoniously when Dina got serious with Jesse in the last few weeks of camp, but Ellie didn’t hold a grudge. Dina’s been her best friend for too long, Ellie doesn’t want a life without her in it one way or another.

This year, Dina decided to work with the older kids in the high school cabins across the lake. Marlene didn’t hesitate to move her over, always desperate for counselors willing to wrangle teenagers. She’s still no more than a ten minute walk from Ellie’s cabin, but it’s ten more minutes than it was last year.

“I mean, it would suck for you.” Dina shrugs. “And I don’t want to listen to you complain about your back all summer again.”

“Just say you hate me. Can’t believe my favorite side chick hates me.” Ellie sighs dramatically, throwing her head back as the sun beats down on her face. Fuck, it’s hot out. She takes another sip of her chocolate milkshake.

Dina rolls her eyes, stepping away from Jesse’s side to loop her arm around Ellie’s. “Aww, Ellie. We all know you’re my side chick.”

Ellie’s right in the middle of an overdramatic eye roll when she feels her phone buzz. She pulls it out and squints to see the screen in the sunlight. It’s a message from Joel.

Do you want to come with me to get Sarah tomorrow?

Ellie grins. Sarah has been buzzing with excitement about going to camp all summer, even more when Joel promised the girl she’d be in Ellie’s cabin. For reasons Ellie will never understand, her little sister is thrilled to spend time with her. She messages him back.

ye

She almost puts her phone away before she sees a typing bubble pop up. Dina tilts her head at Ellie, lowering her cup. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, just Joel.” She snorts as she sees his response.

You can’t even finish a word?

sry forgot you were born in the 1900s

She sends it off with an old man emoji and tucks her phone back in her pocket. “Just asking if I want to go pick up Sarah with him.”

Dina smiles. “She excited?”

“Oh yeah, can’t wait. I’m sure she’s pretty sick of Tommy by now.”

“Shit, I’d be pretty sick of Tommy too if I had to spend the whole summer with him.” Jesse shakes his head, looking away from the deep blue lake beside them. “Can I have my girlfriend back?”

“No,” Ellie and Dina say in unison, pulling closer to each other.

He shrugs, taking another drink of his soda. “Fine. You can borrow my girl since you can’t get one of your own.”

Ellie reaches over to shove him, Jesse breaking into a laugh as he stumbles to the side of the path. “Whatever! Remind me how long it took you to ask Dina out?”

“Three months,” Dina chirps, smirking as Jesse rights himself.

“Didn’t someone have to dare you?”

Jesse rolls his eyes, looking to the sky with a straight, exasperated face. “Why do I hang out with you two?”

“My ass?” Dina suggests.

“I’m a lovable scamp?” Ellie shrugs, raising an eyebrow. “Really hope it’s not my ass.”

“No, that’s why I hang out with you.” Dina nudges her.

“Damn straight.”

Hi everyone! This idea popped into my head and I can't seem to get rid of it, so here we go! This is going to be a lot more lighthearted than my other fic. Unrestrained summer fun. Yes, Ponderosa Lake is a real place in Washington, but for the purposes of this story it's a fictional lake in the mountains of California. (Yes, the Sierra Nevadas. I grew up in the area and I love it dearly.) I don't THINK there will be any major triggers, but please let me know if you spot something that deserves a warning!

I'm so excited for the series! Comments are always appreciated! Feel free to say hi or drop your thoughts in my askbox, check out my AO3 or my about me if you're interested!

Series taglist: @ellabslawyer @rareanduselessbird @hotwheels4hotgirls @polarhues

[puckpocketed]

caps fan here!

as follower of pld (the few, the proud, the courageous!), i was wondering if you had any thoughts about how he might fit in with our team, assuming he's going to be 1C with Ovi on the left and one of Wilson or Mangiapane on the right, and basically taking the former Kuznetsov/Backstrom spot on the halfwall on PP1. my thinking is that he can easily return to being a 60 point player just by the increase in ice time alone this coming season, and maybe even flirt with 70 if he has a triggerman like big O on his wing.

as someone who knows a hell of a lot more about PLD than i do, is that just wishful thinking because i'm a caps fan? what do you think?

The PLD Post, Part 2: mask-OFF

Hii!! (we are SO brave and SO correct). i am so sorry this took ages to answer, i was trying to decide how serious to be. I will admit, I was hesitant about going mask-off and hitting up the microstats and revealing that i do seriously think he can be better than he was bc that shit is kinda lame ESPECIALLY when defending a clear failhorse. but at this point any rep i have as someone with good opinions must be gone considering how many media scapegoats i've attached myself to (i got a fucking. c.gauthier ask the other day aslkjdkljas) so. mask is coming off. we've hit somewhere between well-considered manifesto and vibe check so . um. enjoy!!

I remain optimistic going from everything I've heard and from what you're saying here! But, big big asterisk. He absolutely needs to take ownership of his lack of engagement. when he speaks in media availability I believe him when he says he wants to change. The will to change is there, idk if it’s possible that any player would be satisfied with their performance being the way his was. There’s a lot that needs to be unpacked about his lack of production, the Character Issues, and what his role might look like going forward. You and any other Caps fan who reads this will have to tell me if the fit is right. Hockey talk below the cut lol!!

So before I start I have to say I know dick all about the Caps except:

You're dragging that old man (Ovechkin) to Gretzky's lawn (record) to set it on fire (break it before he retires)

Everyone is pining away for your very very injured 1C who is also Ovechkin's boybestfriend/perfect set-up guy/work wife

There's. intricate pre-game rituals?

So I'm not sure I can speak to how he will fit with your (our? i AM picking the Caps up fr given every acquisition/draft pick they've made) team with any depth or specificity. also i don't think i'd call myself a PLD expert. like. i just got here !! I haven't been following him since he was drafted or anything!! I have, however, consumed TOO MANY Kings games this past season and I can give you a broad look at what actually happened with them and why I think it didn't work out. I will not be making any overtures about being unbiased. My biases WILL slip through because I think Dubois is a sweetheart and I find the mental exercise of defending him fun <3 I’ll give you stats and observations and I will build a story that runs counter to what the prevailing media narratives say. While I stand by my opinions, they're also just one of many available interpretations of what happened.

character concerns

Everyone will be bringing it up at the first speed bump of the season, the first bad game he has. Please be prepared to have a crisis of faith and also be deeply disappointed in him. god knows I am, like, all the time <3 But... I always want to dig deeper when it comes to dominant narratives, because in following multiple teams I’ve become acutely aware of just how miserably Bad media can be at reporting on teams that aren’t their own.

I hear “Locker room cancer” accusations bandied about and I’ve yet to see anyone produce a primary source for this — podcasters, journalists, even people on nhl broadcasts will throw these words around so casually, assuming they’re correct because everyone knows the story. Some confounding factors in the character narratives arise when you scratch the surface. People who've worked with him speak well enough of him. Todd McLellan called him “misunderstood”, and had nothing bad to say about his character.

Matt Roy, who also just got picked up by the Caps, has recently said he’s a great teammate. MORE proof if you want to hear it directly, Roy went on Dropping The Gloves and had this to say about Dubois (transcript by me):

[on what actually happened] Honestly, I don’t know. I mean if you asked him he would say he had a down year. But it’s nothing like — I feel like the media paints this picture of him, and to me it couldn’t be further from the truth, you know. He’s a great teammate, he’s a great locker room guy, he gets along with everybody. So, in terms of all that I don’t know where the media is getting all this stuff. If I hated the guy I probably wouldn’t have come to Washington. He’s one of my friends on the team and I really think he’s going to have a bounce back year. I think he’s really going to be good for the team.

Matt Roy signed with the Caps of his own free will as an RD, a contested free agent in a sparse market, knowing Dubois was already here. He could’ve gone to plenty of different places. Why the hell would Roy sign here long-term, clearly wanting to play and win, if Dubois was as disliked as some pundits would have us believe??? Credible reports (and not just speculation) point to PLD’s other teammates liking him!! 

And here’s some propaganda; I direct you to this extremely sweet video where he gets asked about assisting on Akil Thomas' first NHL goal (and a bunch of other first NHL goals). He is so, so genuinely happy for Akil, who battled through injuries that set back his development for years. Just LOOK at his smile!! He can’t hold it back. (Others have said this but it looks like a little v. Like :> !!!! HELLO !!)

How does all of this happen when, supposedly, he’s a low-character asshole and a “locker room cancer”? It doesn’t line up for me.

On the other hand, I have seen Dubois cruise. He really can’t seem to bounce back from a poor start, and if you were just looking from the outside in, the scoresheet this year reflects this. The critique is fair; I’ve turned this over in my head enough times. there are less physically gifted, less skilled players, who are working so hard to stay in this league, and Dubois’ poor showing does feel somewhat like, idk, something I’d be mad about usually.

Here comes the “but”. Call this next bit the narrative section, because I’m showing my ass here: I think Dubois gets a lot of scrutiny because of his infamous Shift, which went a specific kind of viral, under the exact right conditions, and it has just. defined his career. And okay… I am not denying that the shift happened, but plenty of guys in this league have taken shifts off. come on. the season is long and they're only human. I’m not excusing it either! It was bad and he deserved his benching. Ideally, he one day becomes a player who always puts effort in. Working hard is one of my favourite traits in any player, and usually this would be enough for me to dismiss him as not worth being invested in.

and yet…. the reactions to his floundering performance feel so much like they’re about expectations as seen through the lens of The Shift. They’re calibrated differently because he went 3rd overall, and he's got this big body, the speed, the skill — it's the fact that he's got the tools and seemingly squanders them. All of this is amplified by the contract he's sitting on and his run of short-term stays on teams. Does he get this much scrutiny if he went in the 2nd or 3rd round? Does he catch this much heat for his low energy performance if that one shift clip hadn’t done all that damage? We’ll never know obviously but . I do wonder.

Final word on the character stuff is that we don’t know what truly went on in those locker rooms and i don't want to give more air time to baseless speculation. What we can examine is the hockey. The hockey tells the truth <3

the 23-24 la kings

Assuming the plan is to give PLD a look at 1/2C while he’s on the Caps, I think he’s a complementary type of player. The way he is right now, I don't think he can drive his own line or pull people up. He works with the calibre of lineys he's got and will produce the expected outcome. That sounds so obvious, but what I’m saying is I don’t think he’s capable of miracles like the best playmakers in the league, he's not about to make your guys look 15 years younger. In this vein, I look at his many first NHL goal assists as a symptom of what kind of linemates he was being paired with all season, and how unstable the situation was. His drop in point production IS more complicated than "he's just a piece of shit". From this article, the best summary I've seen of the Situation PLD was in:

LA acquired a player who had been a top-six center (and at times, winger) his entire career playing with established NHL talent. Yet after investing multiple assets to acquire Dubois and sign him to a significant contract, the team decided to put him in a third-line role where his most common linemate was a first-year NHL player who wasn’t expected to be on the roster in Alex Laferriere. Those two had a revolving door of wingers throughout the season. Moreover, Dubois’ most common on-ice teammates after Laferriere at 5-on-5 this season were Matt Roy and Andreas Englund. Gee, I wonder why he didn’t produce?

Context about Roy and Englund: Roy is a quiet but capable d-man who is defensively geared with a bit of offensive upside (j'adore. does things the right way and is very responsible and good. will throw hits but doesn't chase them or headhunt. I think playing away from the Kings’ more passive system will unlock more of his offensive potential. Matt Roy you will be SO good for the Caps I truly believe mwah mwah); and Englund is a leg weight/goon who, going by every single stat I can pull out, makes his d-partners Worse (with affection <3). Point here is neither of them being on the ice was particularly conducive to a lot of scoring chances.

As I said in my previous post, I think Dubois absolutely needs finishers. At some point there was hype around his shot but I didn't see much of that at all on lak? Eye test says: he was unwilling to shoot, and when he did shoot it felt like there was low/no commitment, no power behind it. Comments on his shooting called him “too deferential” at different turns. That’s just an insulting way to say a guy likes to pass and I truly think it circles back to the expectations thing. Would there be anything wrong with him not being much of a shooter this past season if he was another player? (Can't we just say he passed a lot this season without bringing value judgement into it? leave my failhorse ALONE!!!! like must a man score goals ,can't he be very very sweet and happy for the rookies he assisted ? wailing about it forever.)

More fun stats from that same article:

#1 on lak for passes that led to high-danger scoring chances, and scoring chances in general <- again, not a miracle worker. did not have finishers who could capitalise on these chances. its so fucked up what they did to my failwife

one of the best on lak in actually carrying the puck into the o-zone. (another reason i quite liked watching him!! transition forwards my BELOVED) everything I've ever observed about him off the cuff holds true here: he draws penalties this way, because he's fast and when he's locked in he is pretty good for controlled zone entries <3

Dubois had a career high in even-strength assists per 60, this is all in spite of his weird linemate situation and his reduced TOI and the power play mess (more on this later). he might have been deferring, but I truly think the lack of stability + good finishers, and ice time held him back from being more productive.

jim hiller

Building off that last point: even worse on the stability front, which I did allude to in the initial PLD Post, was what happened when Jim Hiller took over. You must understand one of the first clues that we were working with a different animal of a head coach is he was NOT afraid to line shuffle, and shortly after he found short-term success with that, they started running 11 forwards and 7 defensemen (you can see where it started precisely if you scroll back in lak lb because you'll find ME yelling about it LMAO). This shortened forward bench resulted in mid-game line shuffling, as in it was uncertain as to who they would be playing with from shift to shift. Hiller is on record saying he thinks it was beneficial, per this article:

It’s all about getting his deep forward corps engaged in the game. That’s sometimes difficult if you’re running four full lines and there are penalty kill or power play opportunities that alter the flow of the lines. Especially for the group of forwards who don’t kill penalties – think Kevin Fiala, Viktor Arvidsson, Quinton Byfield, Pierre-Luc Dubois – it’s an opportunity to get them extra shifts and engage in the game. “Some of our other players who don’t penalty kill, you know they can lose the flow of the game, so they enjoy it more I know,” Hiller said of having 11 forwards in action. “We’ve talked about it a lot. We really just think for our team, the way it is right now, that gives us an advantage getting those players more ice time.”

(and ok sorry to go off about my gripes with how the kings are run but .They were doing this into playoffs. This article was written during playoffs. god. CARL GRUNDSTROM, WHO HAS NEVER NOT PLAYED HARD, PLAYED 25 SECONDS IN GAME 2. all this while they were trying to get people 'engaged'. Idk. Maybe it did work for some players. I wasn’t behind that bench. But sitting one of your most energetic and committed forwards during a series in which you’re trying to come back from being down several games was a CHOICE!!!! also like what if you didn't double-shift QB. what then. And we all know how that series ended. lak coaching/management i am beating you with a pillowcase stuffed with bricks . <3)

Much was made of the Hiller takeover. I liked it at the time. In his first couple of media availabilities post-TM, Hiller emphasised bringing back "fun" to the game for many of the players who were slumping — and a reportedly tense locker room during the big skid that lost McLellan his job. It was all very Ted Lasso of him. Hiller also introduced a new way to rate Dubois for his performance every night, separate from the scoresheet. I made jokes about PLD's very special star-chart, everyone who knew about it was making jokes about it. This merit system was tailored towards communicating with Dubois what he did and didn't do well, and while no one ever went into depth about it we do know a few things:

It measured things outside of +/-, goals and assists, and was likely a score out of 5 per metric.

One of the metrics was about hits/physicality, another one was likely ‘compete’ levels.

He alluded to being measured on penalties drawn?? Or something??

Anyway it sort of … worked?? The change in Dubois was pretty immediate, the moment he was given some clear direction to work in. He played some of his BEST games of the year in the wake of this change. He got involved physically, he was not losing steam, he was drawing tons of penalties because he’s huge and fast and has good hands and IF he puts his mind to it he can truly be a transition monster.

CUE THE LINE SHUFFLING… imo, much of the progress made seemed to be lost, and the rest is history.

NOT saying Dubois is free of fault here. Needing that extra motivation to get physically involved is kinda wild, and I understand why for some people it’s a bridge too far. EYE am here for the laffs though and it's really funny that the communication came in the form of super special individualised performance evaluations/a glorified sticker chart. This is why he’s my temperamental desert flower. Wilting violet. Soggy kitten. <3 and for the record I truly don’t think I’d care if he put up 40 points per szn for the rest of his career. I don’t care because he’s a sweetie and the Bit i do when defending him is too funny. I don’t think I’d care if everyone was right about him — I just don’t actually think they are.

the power play problem

So okay, as per part 1 (my last email <3) we know Dubois thrives net front. It’s where he scored a bunch of his goals on the Jets. Every stat and the eye test supports this. So how come Lak had him stationed on the half wall doing jackshit, if he was on the power play at all?? I will admit I drove myself half crazy studying power play structures and watching LA Kings games back before coming up with a garbled, half-formed idea about how LA runs their PP. I was going to attempt to explain it here — had to do with Kevin Fiala and Dubois being lefties and how that's just an awkward passing sitch — but it turns out more than one person has had this thought and MAN I love being validated by actual hockey people. I fully thought i was making shit up in my head for a good week or two, and was seriously considering scrapping this portion . but it’s SO important for contextualising the production drop, so here goes !!

As early as September 2023 there was a story published about PLD’s role on PP1 — a place where he certainly should’ve belonged as a top-6 guy with plenty of ppg’s under his belt. From this article, which explains the issue very very neatly, and much more eloquently than I could ever hope to:

The addition of Pierre-Luc Dubois was a big one this summer; at first glance, he should be a great addition to the power play. But when digging deeper, the Kings might struggle to fit him onto the top unit. Dubois played mostly as the net front player for the Winnipeg Jets last season, the role Gabriel Vilardi often played for the Kings last season. So, it’s an easy one-to-one switch in that spot, right? Not necessarily. Dubois has all the talents to be an effective net-front player. He has the size and strength to battle in front, with the skill to effectively pop down low and create chances. However, his handedness is a big problem for this role. The Kings run their power play primarily on the left side with Kevin Fiala — Anze Kopitar when Fiala is hurt — which necessitates a right shot down low. When a right shot player pops out on the left side, there’s an easy passing angle for the half-wall player and more options for the player down low. Quick passing is key for a successful power and a left-shot can’t move the puck quick enough down low. They would have to either move too far into the corner or take the extra second to step out from and open up their body to create an effective passing angle. Time that would slow the power play down too much and allow the opposition penalty kill to get back into position. There’s also minimal shot threat from a lefty down low. We saw both Vilardi and Viktor Arvidsson frequently take the pass down low and quickly turn it into a shooting opportunity, something a left shot wouldn’t be able to do.

It then goes on to suggest 2 solutions that aren’t appealing at all:

Flip the power play entirely to accommodate Dubois net front. Not great as they dont have the players for that, and if they tried it they’d be hamstringing Adrian Kempe’s one-timer.

PLD on the bumper position. This one’s hard to swallow because that displaces Kopitar to PP2, there’s his position as captain and the optics of moving him off his spot.

In this article it is once again suggested that LA MUST flip their power play and figure out how to get PLD net front. In this article they point out how useless he was playing on the wall down the stretch, and how the only reason he seemed to be able to produce something was because he’d taken Kopitar’s spot in his absence. This article calls to attention Dubois’ worlds performance, where team Canada utilised him net front.

Big picture, the Fit

Do we see the problem here yet? It’s not the flat narrative I was sold by the national media, random assholes on twitter, and podcasters who don’t actually watch Kings matches!!!! Do we see how weird and messy and complicated it is, beyond “hey he’s just a sack of shit who isn’t trying hard enough”. Rob Blake himself has come out and admitted that they didn’t put Dubois in a position to succeed. And absolutely there was effort required on his end — a different player might have sucked it up and adapted to circumstances, a different player might never have needed that extra bit of communication, a straight up better player might have dragged his less skilled lineys up to a higher level. But the problem has always been two-fold: LA was trying to coach and manage a completely different player to the one they had in front of them and expecting good results; and Dubois was unable to keep competing with all he had in the face of that. I think both parties are at fault here. And I think, given the chance and the right circumstances, Dubois can hit 60 points again.

Okay, circling back to the big question of Fit. Will he be able to work with Ovechkin? Hard to think he could fail with one of hockey’s best goal scorers on his wing, if he does get a look at 1C. People who know the Caps better than I do, does this sound workable? Is Dubois going to be too difficult of a nut to crack for your coach? Your locker room?

And, of course, the power play issue. Maybe Dubois learns to be better on the half wall! Idk!! Maybe it was a matter of coaching and he thrives in Washington running your PP1 from there. For my money… I like him better playing net front or bumper. Do the Caps have the bodies to accommodate this? I did ask someone familiar with the Caps PP to explain it to me so I could try and figure this out but ouuuugh. My head is spinning. Someone smarter than me please jump in. I am TIRED . We don’t know what it will look like, what they’re planning to do with Dubois on the power play. You guys probably have a better idea about what’s possible than I do <3

Conclusion?

PLD is fast, big, a passing threat and a formidable net front presence when he’s given the opportunity and playing his A-game. As far as I can tell, his B-game is garbage </3 His poor performance is more complicated than people think and I’m pretty sure only the LA Kings beat reporters + the 12 kings fans on twitter know this. Most of them still dislike PLD anyway bc his low motor. I don’t blame them, I’m just more inclined to be forgiving because I love redemption arcs and I think he’s a good person. i would love to be wrong about his low-effort B-game LMAO but im trying to be realistic here. I want him to fit in and be embraced by the Caps so bad <3 Your coach sounds like he wants to help PLD succeed and is up for the challenge. The vibes from my friends who follow the Caps are always good, I’ve read through various tags and it sounds like a place that will take him in whether he likes it or not. I might be stupid but I believe in him !!! and I’ve laid out all the hockey bullshit for you to the best of my ability. Given all of this… do you think he’ll do well?

[songofwizardry]

Ok I'm out of the UK and meant to be on an organising break so I don't even know the worst of it, because I'm off all my usual networks and chats, but here's a long post, because I'm angry: in the last few days, across the country, there have been (halal and Muslim owned) businesses burnt down and attacked including cafes (1 and 2) and a supermarket in Belfast; a Muslim cemetery was vandalised; multiple hotels housing asylum seekers or said to be housing asylum seekers were set on fire sometimes with people inside. And that's just what's on the news. The stuff coming out anecdotally, from the people I'm talking to, is even worse. And again, I'm not hearing the worst of it right now.

The rhetoric is blatant and obvious: the leaked list of targets for Wednesday evening that's going around explicitly says they won't stop coming until we make them. It explicitly targets immigration support, immigration lawyers, and asylum seeker and refugee support centres; and just because you think you live in a diverse area does not mean it’s not a target and that numbers aren’t needed. By virtue of it targeting immigration support (and by design!!!) they’re targeting areas with large Brown, Black and immigrant populations. Particularly Muslim populations.

I don’t want to fear monger, bc where communities have been showing up, the fash are being driven out. But like. I will not lie. It is terrifying to see blatant far-right, Islamophobic, explicitly anti-immigrant and anti-asylum rhetoric so openly on our streets, days on end. It makes me incandescent with rage to hear about mosques across the country issuing warnings and shutting down events, and to hear about my friends outside London whose families haven’t been able to leave their homes in days, to hear from my friends who are or support asylum seekers about how terrified they are. It infuriates me to see, even at this point, the language and reporting, because to make the news we have to step out of a mosque being targeted and offer the fash food and a tour of the mosque; because they're still talking about how much we "contribute" to this country and that's why you shouldn't target us; becaus there's still people pointing out super "reasonably" that this is a natural response of the white working class to unchecked immigration or our terrible crimes or the violence of Muslims or those fucking savages or because there's too many goddamn people crossing the channel or. Whatever new bullshit. Genuinely, this is still turning up in the reporting, and on socials, go look on twitter and you will be utterly horrified at the shit that's being said. I'm seeing it on tumblr too.

It makes me so fucking angry and yet I am unsurprised, because Nigel Farage is an MP and can still say that this is a “response to unchecked immigration”, because the shadow Welsh secretary can say there is “political justification” for the far-right action on our streets, because my friends who are asylum seekers have seen years upon years of being blamed for every ill and failure of the social safety net that the government has been responsible for. This is where we end up after years of talking about “no-go zones” in Muslim areas of cities, after “Stop the boats” (full of terrified people who are escaping unimaginably bad circumstances) becomes a reasonable political chant, after we had a prime minister whose blatant islamophobic comments were just… ignored for years, after years of newspaper front pages demonising us.

This isn’t just about the stabbings. (Tommy Robinson was in London leading a fash march before these stabbings. This has been a long time coming.) This is the result of years of this shit. So yeah, we are scared, and concerned, but also angry (maybe that’s just me; I am always angry). Look out for your friends. Check in on people, particularly if you know PoC and people targeted by Islamophobia (misplaced or otherwise, our Sikh friends get a lot of this shit as well), immigrants, and asylum seekers and refugees.

Numbers have been key to keeping the fash down. Counterprotests are happening everywhere—if you can get to one SAFELY (being the key word here—if you’re visibly going to be a target, there is no shame in staying home and staying safe) please do, don’t go alone under any circumstances, take the GBC number, don’t split off from the group, etc. Repeatedly, we have been the ones keeping each other safe. Counter-protests are being called by Stand Up To Racism (which is a SWP front), but particularly within London, BLMUK and LAFA (the London Anti-Fascist Assembly) are also coordinating responses—you can see stuff on the BLMUK instagram. Do what you can to help, but if you’re going out there, do it as a group and do it safely.

And please please push back against the anti-immigrant rhetoric, against these prevalent ideas (even) amongst “polite” middle class white liberals about Muslims who refuse to assimilate, about the “state” of “those” areas of Birmingham and Manchester and London, against the good immigrant narratives and the blame we get for everything from inflation to overcrowded classrooms to NHS underfunding, against the fucking vile way people talk about asylum seekers and people crossing the channel.

I am tired and sick to my core of the myth of “polite” British racism. I am tired of being told that things like that don’t happen here, of the shock I get anytime I describe the Islamophobia and racism that people (that I) experience. I’m actually very very tired full stop, and I don’t know how to end this paragraph.

Fuck the fash. We keep ourselves and each other safe. We need each other to keep our communities safe. Organise. And for the love of god, listen to us.

[ladykailitha]

Oh For a Muse of Fire! Part 14

Steve to the rescue again. Eddie is having a horrible week.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9 Part 10  Part 11 Part 12  Part 13  

*

When Steve came home that night, Robin was waiting for him on their couch.

“Hey, Robs,” he greeted warmly. “How was work?”

“Crystal is working out great, he’s got flare,” she said with a grin. “Like you, but different. He had us in stitches during clean up.”

Steve smiled. “I’ll miss you guys.”

Robin’s grin slid into something more dear. “Me too. But I get why you want to get the hell out of Dodge.”

Steve went to the fridge to get them a couple of sodas. When you can get your booze for free, you tend to have other kinds drinks around the house instead.

He handed her one and flopped down next her. “I talked to Mrs Byers and I’m pretty sure I’m going to ace the class. So guess who is graduating, baby?”

Robin squealed. “Yes! I guess Eddie was your lucky charm.”

Steve blushed.

“I didn’t see your painting when I came home,” she said slyly. “Is there a reason you didn’t bring it home?”

Steve’s eyes went wide. “Shit! I left in the car!” He scrambled out the door and was back in under a minute panting.

“Thank fuck it wasn’t too hot today,” he said between breathes. “Otherwise I would have started bawling.”

Robin held out grabby hands. “I want to see!”

Steve turned it around and handed the canvas to her.

“Holy shit, Steve!” she whispered. “This is really good. Like art gallery good.”

He blushed. “It’s just an assignment. It isn’t a big deal.”

“Like hell it isn’t,” she gushed. “You should submit this to the art show for graduating seniors.”

Steve opened his mouth for some excuse, but he didn’t have any. Not really. “Yeah. I’ll let Mrs Byers know.”

Robin handed the painting back and he set gently to the side.

“So what did you and Eddie do...?” she asked with a wink and then her face twisted. “If you had sex I don’t want to know that. Ew.”

Steve laughed. “How did you know I was with Eddie?”

She rolled her eyes. “Because there is no one else that you would play hooky for other than me and I since I worked, the only logical conclusion was Eddie.”

Steve’s face was nearly split in two by the grin that comment induced. “Fair enough. He had a nasty ex show up after class today and it really shook him up.”

Robin pushed his shoulder. “Fuck, dingus. You don’t know how to play fair, do you? I can’t make fun of something like that. Bastard.”

He huffed out a small laugh. “And then he wanted me to listen to some of the songs he’d been writing.”

She giggled and clapped her hands. “Anymore of them about you?”

Steve shook his head. “At least none of the ones he played for me sounded like they were about me. Not like the last one.”

Robin sighed. “Maybe they’re love songs and he’s not ready for you to hear him declare his undying love for you yet.”

He blushed. “He just so amazing, Robs. He deserves every good thing in this world and he just can’t seem to get there. And it’s pissing me off.”

“I know, sweetie,” she said. “I know.”

*

Steve and Robin walked out of their apartment the next day to see a bunch of guys surrounding Eddie.

“Call 911,” he hissed. “I’ll try to keep them busy until the cops arrive.”

Robin’s eyes were wide, but she nodded bravely.

Steve strolled toward the group with a goofy smile on his face. “Hey there, boys. I don’t think I’ve seen you guys around here before.”

The ring leader was a tall, broad-shouldered, good looking man with blond hair. The kind of person Steve would have hung out with in high school. But this was long past that.

They all turned to him and a chill went down Steve’s spine. Some of them had baseball bats and one of the had a tire iron.

And Eddie was in the middle looking terrified.

“Just keep walking,” the ringleader sneered. “We’ve got some business with the Freak here.”

The name sent a second, more dangerous chill down Steve’s spine. The Freak was what they called Eddie in high school. Because he was always out, loud, and proud and made sure it was everyone’s problem.

And then it hit him. He knew who the ringleader was. Fuck.

“Jason Carver, right?” Steve asked, goofy smile still plastered to his face.

Jason was a year behind Steve in high school at a rival school. Dude was so good he had made basketball team captain his junior year.

The ringleader turned further from Eddie to take a better look at Steve.

“Holy fuck!” Jason cursed. “Steve Harrington!”

Steve’s smile turned into a feral grin. “Oh good, you do remember me. And you’ll know that I’m famous for stopping what you’re about to do.”

“Steve!” Robin cried. “Catch!”

Steve’s hand came up and when it came back down everyone was staring at the bat now in his grasp. The top of it had been decorated with nails.

“I take this to Pride every year,” Steve said casually, like he was talking about the weather. “It’s my anti-homophobe bat. It’s a great deterrent for assholes like you.”

He twirled it around, warming up his wrist. “So are you going to walk away or are you boys going to be introduced to Hela?”

Jason looked at his friends and then back at Steve. “There are five of us and only one of you, you really think you can take all of us?”

Steve smiled warmly. “Of course not, I just have to keep you busy until the cops show up.”

Jason’s friends started to mutter to themselves.

Jason scoffed. “You didn’t have time to call the cops.”

Steve batted his eyelashes innocently at Jason. “I’ve never said I did. Robin called them while we were talking.”

They started to look at each other worryingly.

“And if I know Eddie,” Steve continued, “he’s hit the emergency button on his cell phone so that the cops have a recording you threatening to jump me with your buddies.”

Jason sneered. “I think you’re bluffing.” His friends didn’t look convinced.

“Hey, man,” one of the said, putting a hand on Jason’s arm, “if they did call the cops we need to get out of here.”

“Pussy,” Jason sneered, pulling away from him and grabbing the tire iron from him. “I’ll handle this myself.”

Steve cocked his head to the side. “I’m going so wreck that pretty face of yours Carver.”

Jason snarled like a cornered animal, full of rage and fear. He leapt forward swinging the iron like a club, all brute force and no finesse.

Steve loosened the muscles in his neck as Jason swung wildly passed where Steve had been previously, having stepped deftly to the side.

“That’s not the way you swing, you moron,” he heckled. “Maybe you should have taken some baseball with your basketball like I did.” Steve swung and tapped the back of Jason’s jacket. Not hard enough to actually hurt him, but enough that Jason stumbled as he was off balance because of his swing.

Jason fought to stay on his feet, but managed to whirl around to face Steve.

“You want to try again?” Steve asked, brightly.

Jason charged at him again and again Steve side stepped him, tapping him on the back as he passed.

Then there was the bee-whoop of a cop car pulling up. The four other guys pushed at each other in panic as they tried to run. But they ran straight into the arms of the waiting officers.

“Just put down the weapons, boys,” a big burly man said into his megaphone.

Steve laughed. “I’d love to, Chief Hopper. But I’mma gonna wait until he puts his down first.”

Hopper sighed so loud Steve could hear it without it being amplified by the megaphone.

“Harrington, I should have known,” Hopper croaked into the megaphone. “You! The other one.” Jason turned to him in shock at being called ‘the other one’. “I’d best be putting that tire iron down, before Steve decides you’re not worth the effort and flattens your face right quick.”

Jason looked back at Steve and then to Hopper. He slowly put the iron down. Steve did the same to his bat and kicked it behind him, where Robin ran to pick it up.

Jason held up his hands and slowly stood up. One of the deputies came running up and handcuffed him.

“You’re going to pay for this, Munson!” Jason snarled.

Eddie waved from where he was at Robin’s side, having dashed over there while the idiots were watching Jason and Steve fight.

They had to call Diamond and let him know they would be late. Eddie tried to call Joyce, but Hopper put a hand over his phone and gently lowered it.

“I’ve already let her know, son,” Hopper told him. “She says she’ll cancel classes for the rest of the week, if you need.”

Eddie shook his head. “Jus–just for today.”

Hopper nodded. “You take care, all y’all.”

Once their statements had been taken and they were allowed to leave, Steve put his hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “If you need me to call in again, I will.”

Eddie shook his head. “You still need to pay rent, Stevie. I’ll hang out with Uncle Wayne today.”

Steve grinned. “Good plan, nothing beats a tire iron like a mechanic’s wrench.”

Eddie grinned back. “I like the way you think, sweetheart.”

Steve pushed his shoulder. “Go on. Some of us have to work for our living.”

Eddie laughed and walked to his van, Steve shaking his head as he watched him go.

Part 15  Part 16  Part 17 Epilogue

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[syngasm]

“OPERATION : GET LORD EXPLOSION MURDER LAID”

pairing : denki kaminari, katsuki bakugo

includes : smut, cursing, anal penetration, words of affirmation & affection, coming out, sub!bakugo, bakugo secretly being a sap, virgin!bakugo, kinda stupid denki

This is the shit that makes him angry.

He’s normally angry, more so irritated, it’s Bakugo’s brand. But this made him really angry. His friends sat in a circle, sharing their sex stories while his eye twitched as he slightly hoped they never noticed him. But he’s Bakugo, his presence comes with a fire that cannot be ignored, sadly.

“What about you, Bakugo!” Kirishima patted him on the back with his shark smile, and suddenly all of his friends were looking at him. He decided to admit it, but silently.

“I’m a virgin.” It comes out in a whisper, the quietest Bakugo has been since being conceived.

“Huh?” Sero leans in, so does everyone. “I’m a virgin! Okay? Shut up, don’t even start.” Bakugo turns away from them immediately, not even wanting to see their stupid faces. They’re stupid, he doesn’t need friends anyway.

“Is it because you're so uptight? It totally blows your sexy vibe.” Kirishima concludes, not a hint of amusement in his voice. “Shut up Shitty Hair! I don’t- I don’t need to have sex, it’s stupid anyway! Fuck you, and fuck girls, and guys or whatever!” Within his storm, he left in a cloud of smoke, angry.

“Did he say ‘and guys’?” Sero coughs, waving the smoke away. “You just can’t hear at all, huh?” Mina rolls her eyes. “We should get Bakugo laid.” She suggests, standing tall.

“Who’s gonna wanna fuck him? He’s so..” Kirishima shakes in disgust and then laughs.

They go through with it anyway. They set him up with girls who seem like they’d be his type, and send them his way.

No one really works with Bakugo.

“Are you fucking stupid?”

“I’ll beat you, I always stay on top!”

“You are just so dumb looking.”

“You’re annoying, shut up.”

“Ew!”

“Ugh!”

“Shut up, extra!”

Kirishima watches as he fails over and over again with girls and begins to give up. He lays on their lunch table, which makes Iida reprimand him for minutes. After a while, Iida gives up, and the rest of Bakugo’s group, excluding him, sit down.

“He’s not..he’s not a big fan of girls is he.” Sero groans.

“We tried everything, we tried big tits, small tits, big girls, small girls, smart girls, dumb girls, powerful girls, weak girls, we even asked lesbian girls to try!” Denki frowns as he plops down. “The lesbians got the closest, which is honestly interesting.”

“Maybe we’re shooting for the wrong crowd.” Mina says, looking at Bakugo in line, getting more agitated with each second that a class 1-B girl talks.

Eventually he grabs her face and pushes her out his way. He’s an asshole, but he perks up and sits with his friends.

“Hey Baku-Man.” Denki tries. Bakugo glares with disgust, squinting. “So, talk to anyone interesting?”

“There’s someone.” He says, looking at his food. “And it’s me, I’m the interesting person, the most interesting actually. Get off the table, Shitty hair.”

Kirishima rolls off onto the opposite bench, groaning.

Lunch goes by awkwardly, and as soon as Bakugo leaves, they all exhale. “We can try guys, we have to try something. Maybe after he gets laid, he’ll stop being an ass.” Kirishima hmphs, and try what they will do.

Spoiler, Bakugo is not a hit with the guys either.

“Why are you talking to me?”

“You’re too close, back up before I hurt you.”

“Is this a ploy?”

“Why do you..look like that?”

“Shut up, you’re so fucking stupid.”

“Ew!”

“Ugh!”

“Shut up, extra!”

Kirishima groans again, and lays on the table. “Maybe instead of strangers, we need close friends! Kirishima, flirt with Bakugo!” Sero suggests, Kirishima blinks at him. “I’d be burnt to a crisp immediately.”

“I can try.” Denki suggests, smiling innocently. “Be our guest.” Sero, Kirishima and Mina say at once.

“Hey.” Bakugo sits down, without his lunch, just a bento box that his mother packed.

“Hey Bakugo!” Denki slides in closer to him. “Whatcha got there, Lord Explosion Murder?”

Bakugo goes blank for a minute, Lord Explosion Murder? He looks at Denki for half a second, and then his somewhat shaky hand moves to his box.

“It’s a bento box, clearly.” He opens it, and his friends all lean in to sniff it and sigh. “You sharing?” Kirishima can’t help but ask.

“Fuck no.” He glares at them, and watches them deflate. “Fuck you.” He passes the box down the table. “Thank you, Bakugo!” They all say as they grab one thing from it. It’s almost completely empty, and Denki finishes his portion first.

He looks at Bakugo with the best puppy dog eyes that he can muster. “Please?”

Bakugo is slightly blushing now, he covers his face as he gives it to Denki, who shines with appreciation.

“Wait, stay right here.” Denki gets up and goes across the lunchroom to Midoriya and his friends, to ask Iida for something.

“So what’s the deal, why do you all look so dumb lately?” They all look at him with a somewhat frightened expression.

“I can’t lie, I’m sorry.” Sero let out a breath, and then began to spill. “You told us that you’re a virgin so we wanted to get you laid so we sent you girls but because you’re an asshole, you didn’t do any of them, and then we sent you guys and for the same reason, you’re still a virgin-“

Kirishima tackles Sero to the ground to stop him from talking. “Haha! He’s a funny guy, what a silly man. Uh, we aren’t acting weird, you are!” Mina takes Bakugo’s attention from them. “I don’t want to lose my virginity.” He says, stoically.

“Oh look, Kaminari’s back!” Mina says nervously. “Here, Bakugo.”

It’s a bunch of items from the vending machine, all items that Bakugo orders frequently, and Denki sports a dumb smile. “I didn’t want you to not eat, it’s better than nothing. Iida gave me the money, I’m broke, he told me to say that..well, actually Midoriya told me to, but still.”

“You’re a weirdo.” Denki freezes, and Bakugo leaves after this display.

What Sero spilled stayed in his head, is it that bad he hadn’t lost his virginity?

As dumb as it sounded to him, he wanted it to be special. He made a playlist of songs he’d wanna hear, and what he’d want for aftercare is on a note in his phone.

It’s dumb to him, he doesn’t like how he cares. He tried to not care, even got to the point of bringing her home, but kissing her didn’t feel good. He felt like there was a whole world between them, their hands didn’t interlock in harmony, they didn’t compliment each other, they were just strangers.

“Bakugo!” Denki stops him, the snacks in a trail, as he frees a hand to grab Bakugo’s.

“Kaminari.” He says, not turning back, he was angry, like usual. “I think you actually don’t want to be a virgin, you’re just scared.”

You’re just scared.

“I’m not scared. There’s nothing to be scared of.” Bakugo shook him off with a blast, and left Denki’s arm stinging, but he didn’t leave it alone. “Then- Why not?”

“Leave it alone, Kaminari.” He continued walking, with Denki following close second. He continues to ask, and badger Bakugo with questions, until Bakugo stops, they’re in the stairwell, during gym.

“I don’t owe you anything, and if I find out you told anyone I said this, I’ll rip you to shreds.” Bakugo takes Denki’s collar in his hand, and slams him into the closest wall.

“I can’t just lose my virginity to anyone.” Denki blinks, not understanding it. Bakugo rolls his eyes, the boy is just so stupid. “I want..I want to lose my virginity to someone who’s important to me. Like a partner, or best friend or whatever.”

He expects Denki’s face to be amused, he expects him to laugh, because if the roles were reversed, he’d laugh.

Denki just smiles. “We’re best friends, right?” He takes one of Bakugo’s hands in his own.

“What are you implying, extra?” It’s his defense mechanism, insults and assault, he’s never been a ‘flight’ person, it was always ‘fight’.

Lord Explosion Murder wouldn't run.

“We can- Do you want to lose your virginity to me?” Denki is glowing, he looks genuine. Bakugo blinks at him, the other making him a little weak.

Denki was perfect, he had a body that attracted Bakugo, he was slim but muscled, due to training. He stood there, his warm hand engulfing Bakugo’s somewhat bigger one, with a non-judging smile. He liked that about Kaminari, he could count on him to not understand the circumstance, and even if he did understand, he could still count on him to be sympathetic.

Sympathetic?

Bakugo takes his hand out of his grasp and uses his forearm to push Denki against the wall, harder than last time, and pin him. “I don’t need your damn sympathy.”

“I’m not sympathizing!” Denki says as he attempts to pull Bakugo’s hand from his neck and the other from his chest, from fear of both passing out and getting a boner.

Seeing the other squirm made Bakugo believe him, so he put both his arms down. “I wouldn’t mind.” He mumbles. Denki cocks his head to the side and gets somewhat close, attempting to hear him better. “Whaddya say?”

“I said I wouldn’t fucking mind.”

…

“Wouldn’t mind what?”

Bakugo has to hold his urges back from throwing Denki out the nearest window, is he really gonna make him say it?

“You know.”

“I don’t.” His expression is genuinely clueless, Bakugo turns his head, not showing his vulnerability. “Let’s fuck.”

It’s all he can think to say, Denki gets the hint and he clasps his hands together, not quick to clap but it’s somewhat audible.

“Okay! When, do you want to do it right now or..?”

Bakugo’s face heats up, they're outside of the gymnasium during school hours, and he doesn’t want to get caught fucking Denki Kaminari.

“No! Are you stupid?” Denki slightly nods. At least he didn’t lie.

“We’ll go to your dorm after school.” Bakugo tells him. “So, don’t leave, I’ll be at the entrance.” He folds his arms and walks away. “Not gonna give me a kiss goodbye?” Denki jokes, and smiles to himself.

He doesn’t expect Bakugo to turn around and kiss him though. Bakugo’s lips are soft, and he tastes like something burnt, but it’s not too bad. Denki holds him by the waist and that’s when Bakugo pulls away.

“If I hear a word of this.” Bakugo’s hand ignited, and Denki sweated nervously. He was so gonna tell Kirishima.

With that, they part ways, Bakugo skipping gym and Denki going to it.

“I’m in.” He says to Kirishima, who’s drinking his water. “What?” Kirishima stands up from the ground he sat, with the water in his hand and dribbling down his chin.

“Bakugo let me in. We’re supposed to do it after school today. So, I need the dorm to myself.” Kirishima shakes Denki’s hand excitedly, and then realizes that it’s not very appropriate.

“I can find something to do, Mina and Tsu have been trying to do my hair for ages, I’ll just hang out with them, text me when it’s over.” Denki nods.

“So..Like what? Are you gonna..” His mental assumption sounds dumb. “How does gay sex work?” He whispers it, like a secret. Denki laughs.

“I dunno really, I’ve only ever seen it on porn. One guy puts his thing in the other guy and then boom, pregnant.”

“Oh, I didn’t know men can get pregnant.” Kirishima believes him, sadly, nodding his head into the distance. “You fucking idiots.” Jiro says, she’s been standing behind Kirishima this entire time. “Oh shit-“

“How much did you hear?”

“Just from Kirishima telling you Mina wants to do his hair, anyways, why are you talking about sex in the gym.” Denki gulps hard, he wasn’t even supposed to tell Kirishima.

“We want to know how it works, we’ve got big plans.” Kirishima slings his arm around Denki who smiles fakely. Jiro can’t help but assume they’re talking about with each other.

“It’s just anal. You put your thing inside his butt and fuck it, duh. And no, boys cannot get pregnant.” She rolls her eyes before hitting Denki with a dodgeball.

“Right! I knew that.”

They don’t talk about it aloud after that, just in messages.

Before Denki knows it, he’s at the store buying condoms and candles, and for some reason rose petals and chocolate. Bakugo does not give the wined and dined type, but he said it’s important to him.

He runs, skipping their last period class with a teacher who’s name he can never remember, running to his dorm room.

He scatters the rose petals and lights the candles on the counter and beside. He wasn’t sure where Bakugo wanted to do it, but there were enough petals and candles to be anywhere in the house. He ran a warm bath, just incase Bakugo needed to wash beforehand or after.

All of this was on a website, and from Jiro advice.

He tries to calmly walk to the entrance to pick up Bakugo but trips on the first step and basically rolls down the stairs.

Denki jumps up and dusts himself off, seeing Bakugo in the distance, chewing on a pen.

Who’s topping.

It appeared in his mind, who’s on top? He kept thinking about it, which is why he’s chewing on the pen. He’d be damned if Kaminari got to put his dick in him.

Bakugo looked up once he was close enough. “Hey, Bakugo. Or Lord Explosion Murder, if that’s better.”

He smirks at that, and follows as Denki leads him to the dormitory.

He opens the door to the smell of vanilla, and sees the candles and rose petals. “You fucking weirdo.” He whispers to himself. “Where do you want to do it?”

Bakugo looks around the dorm, Kirishima’s bedroom door is covered by a sheet, Denki’s door is open. The couch has a few spill stains, the bathroom door is open.

“Let’s go to your room.” Denki takes his hand and pulls him ahead. “I changed my sheets, pillowcases, vacuumed, and even wiped off my surfaces.” Bakugo appreciates the gesture, he tries not to smile.

There are condoms on his bedside table, xls. There’s flavored ones, and glow in the dark ones. It’s so Denki of him.

“So, how do you wanna start, just go straight to the sex stuff or foreplay?” It’s a word he’s never said out loud, but he doesn’t want to do the wrong thing and have Bakugo blow him up, literally.

“I want-..” He’s not completely sure, but Denki looks good sitting in front of him on the bed. “I want it to seem natural, just do what you’d do to a girl.” He mumbles the last few words, blushing profusely.

“Oh, okay.” Denki takes that a little too seriously. He pulls Bakugo in by his waist, and lifts his uniform shirt. He kisses his stomach, little light kisses. Bakugo places his hands in Denki’s hair. “Let’s get that shirt off you.” He stands up and lifts the shirt over his head, then does his own.

“Damn, Bakugo.” He smiles and traces the others' pecs. Bakugo slaps his hand, and stifles a chuckle. “Shut up.” The two boys stand close enough to breathe each other’s exhale in. And they do.

“I wanna kiss you.” Denki whispers, before tilting Bakugo’s head up. He can’t fully give himself to Denki, he wants to keep the upper hand.

He leans in and connects their lips. Denki reaches in his back pocket and sprinkles petals over them, and giggles. “Just a little something.”

“Just kiss me, bastard.”

Denki obliges, because he’s such a good listener, Bakugo believes.

Denki snakes his hand into the back of Bakugo’s uniform pants, and the other hand on his waist. He squeezes his butt, which causes Bakugo to moan quietly into his mouth.

“I love that sound.” Denki claims, and then unbuttons Bakugo’s pants, and pulls away so Bakugo can take them off completely. Denki sat on the bed in front of Bakugo, looking at his naked form in awe. “What’re you staring at?”

“You’re so pretty.” Bakugo’s cock throbs with the compliment, and Denki doesn’t miss it. “Oh?”

“Don’t get any ideas, idiot.” He grumbles, but gasps under his breath when Denki takes his length in his hand. “Mm, but I think you do want me to get ideas. You want me to touch you, to taste you. You’re so cute, especially when you’re defensive.”

Bakugo’s cock dribbles with precum, he can’t help it. He’s a sucker for praises. He doesn’t even fight it, he just runs his hands through Denki’s hair.

“What a good boy, Bakugo.” He hears the other whimper, as he strokes him against Denki’s face. He puts his mouth on the tip and hollows out his cheeks. Bakugo’s legs shake at this, and Denki smiles to himself, he’s gonna tease Bakugo about this for so long.

He pushes his mouth into his length until Denki is nose to skin. Well, more so bush, Bakugo doesn’t see the point in shaving completely, he just trims when it seems like too much.

“Fuck.” Bakugo groans, his head flies back as Denki sucks him off, he tastes like coconut, which is not extremely pleasant but soon he begins to taste salty and Denki prefers that over the coconut.

“I’m gonna cum.” He whines, his hands stuck in Denki’s hair, both because he has it in tight fists, and Denki doesn’t comb it often.

Denki doesn’t get to say anything, once he pulls off, his face is painted in hot, white lines.

Once he’s sure, Denki brings a cloth that he made sure to keep in his drawer to his face, and clears his eyes. Bakugo laughs, and smears his still erect cock in the cum on his face.

“You came so fast.” Denki mumbles around the cum that he’s wiped off his mouth with his tongue, and swallows.

“Why am I the only one naked?” Bakugo asks aloud, seeing the tent in Denki’s pants. “Oh, because..I wanted to please you first.”

Bakugo rolls his eyes, and strips Denki of his pants as he wipes his face more. “So, wanna fuck?” Denki smiles. “Is that not what we’re doing?”

“Right.” Denki grabs Bakugo’s waist and flips him under him, Bakugo hits the bed with a groan, but it’s stifled because Denki kissed him immediately. The boy on top’s fingers prod at Bakugo’s entrance.

“I’m not bottoming!” He says as he pulls away. “What? I’m not either.” Denki leans back.

They sit in silence for a second, and then Bakugo puts his hand up. “Rock, Paper, Scissors. Best of three.”

Denki agrees, and they do play. Bakugo loses six times, and insists on yet another redo. “I won, you’re bottom.” Denki gets irritated with the constant fighting, Bakugo continues to squabble and scream obscenities.

Denki quickly changed position while Bakugo complained, he took Bakugo by the neck and pressed him into the bed. “You’re under me, and you’re gonna stop complaining, because you’ll like it.”

Bakugo closes his mouth, he doesn’t bother to fight after that, especially seeing how dominant Denki can get.

“Good boy, you’re too pretty to wanna fight all the time.” Bakugo turns his face, his arms still folded like a kid. Denki moved his hands back toward Bakugo’s hole. “This’ll feel weird.”

He starts with his middle finger. Bakugo groans, it’s a weird feeling, and with the addition of a second digit, his back arches off the bed, it somewhat burns. Denki grabs his cock and pumps it, hoping to ease the pain.

It leaves Bakugo in this strange state between pleasure and pain, and before he knows it, it all begins to feel good. Bakugo moans out Denki’s name, his legs shaking around his hips.

“You ready?” He stops curling his fingers to ask, and Bakugo attempts to catch his breath, he nods.

He was not ready.

Denki had little to no experience with the same sex, only going as far as mutual masturbation, and watching gay porn. He lined it up and just shoved it in.

When Denki lost his virginity, it was to a second year, just a month or two ago. Due to the elasticity of female anatomy, especially when turned on, he did just shove it in, and both parties were fine.

Bakugo was not fine.

His back arched off the bed as he let out a shrill scream. It felt like there was a fire in his ass.

Denki jumped back but didn’t pull out, genuinely confused. They shoved it in on the video, why was Bakugo reacting so much?

“Do you want to stop?! I-I’m sorry!” He was honestly scared a bit of Bakugo, and once the boy is in pain, he just gets worse.

He doesn’t respond, just breathes hard and groans. It takes a few silent minutes, and for Bakugo to break into a cold sweat, for him to adjust.

“You fucker.” He whispered out, mentally spent. Denki leaned in and kissed his neck and lips. He captured his nipple in a pinch and just rubbed gently, he studied the video.

“Kam..” He couldn’t even finish the name. “Fuck me already.” He wheezed, covering his eyes with his forearm.

“If you insist, I'm gonna start slow.” He started with slow, deep strokes. Each punched a low whine from Bakugo’s lips, Denki drank them up, kissing the boy.

“Faster.” It’s all the encouragement Denki needed, he leaned back and sped up, holding Bakugo by his waist and pulling him down onto his length. Bakugo began moaning loudly at this, they sounded like cries, and Denki enjoyed watching his cock bob with each thrust.

Precum spurted onto Bakugo’s stomach, showing that he was enjoying it. It helped to know that he wasn’t hurting him.

He let out a continuous string of “fuck”s matching the thrusts, and reached for Denki’s hands. He pulled them off his waist, one onto his dick and he held the other.

Denki kissed Bakugo’s hand, and began to stroke his dick, it was still wet with both recent precum and from nutting on Denki’s face. “Oh my god, you’re so fucking good to me, Fuck, I love you.”

It slips out before Bakugo can even think about it, he still didn’t realize he said it until Denki halted. “You love me?”

Bakugo looks at him through half lidded eyes. He didn’t want to admit to having something of a crush on Denki, but he doubted the other would continue if he lied.

“I do..Like you.”

Denki’s eyes sparkled, he moved his hands to both sides of Bakugo’s head, and began to ram his length into his hole, smiling and groaning himself.

Bakugo’s body began to wrap around Denki, crying out in pleasure. His legs locked him in, and his arms pulled him into a hug.

“I like you too, Bakugo!” Denki grunts out, then kisses his neck.

“Let’s change position.” Denki whispers, he stands up completely and takes Bakugo against the wall. “Shit, you’re so pretty.” The candlelight illuminated Bakugo’s features, it only turned Denki on more.

The walls weren’t the most comfortable, but Bakugo couldn’t even stop to complain, Denki’s thrusts were fast and deep, punching the air out of his lungs.

“My legs hurt.” Denki giggles, he drops Bakugo on the bed, and then gets back into his hole, he moans out at the tightness. “You feel so good.”

Bakugo grins, purring almost. He can feel himself nearing the brink, and before he can even warn Denki, he’s shooting onto his chest.

Denki isn’t phased, especially considering he’s about to paint Bakugo’s insides white.

Bakugo whines once he’s oversensitive and Denki keeps thrusting. Denki takes Bakugo’s hand and holds it. He goes out almost completely, and then back in. He shakes with that final thrust, and Bakugo moans extremely loud at that. “Did you just fucking cum in me?!”

Denki just smiles.

——

Turns out, the bath was a good idea. Denki steps in with Bakugo lead, and sits beside him. “So, you liiike me~?”

“I’m not doing this.” Bakugo turns his back, Denki audibly pouts, and Bakugo turns back. “Yes, I like you.”

“I like you too, Lord Explosion Murder.” Denki leans in and kisses Bakugo’s cheek. “So, what now?”

“What do you mean?” Bakugo looks him in the eyes, he looks at peace. “What are we?”

“We’re people..” Bakugo clearly doesn’t get the hint, Denki slides into his embrace. “Do you wanna be my boyfriend?” Bakugo interlocks their hands at the question, looking anywhere but at Denki.

“I wouldn’t mind.”

——

“So.” Kirishima slides onto the bench next to the new couple. “How was your night?”

Bakugo thinks back to the night, after the bath, they had another round on the couch, and then one in Kirishima’s room, which was much messier than Denki’s newly cleaned one, but they did it on his sheets nonetheless.

They fell asleep in Denki’s room, fucked out.

“Good, how was yours?” Denki smiles sheepishly. “Pretty good, I got my hair curled, and then washed.” Kirishima grins. “Hey guys.” Sero sits next to Bakugo, who’s playing footsies with Denki across the table.

“Hanta.” Bakugo’s eyes pierce though him. “Denki, you were supposed to fuck the attitude out of him.” Kirishima whispered to him, Denki didn’t even hear him, he was too busy giggling while playing footsies.

“Oh no, they’re in love.”

———— FIN

AAAAA my first published oneshot, AND my shortest time taken (three days, chill)

i’m not sure abt their ages in this one, but they’re in some sort of school, whether college or highschool i dunno. i love denki sm, and i don’t usually write bakugo so he might be ooc..

[theseeingfawn]

Summary:

The infamous Shadowsinger finally reveals himself to the new gang in town, sending shockwaves through the criminal undergrounf. Meanwhile, Elain struggles to come to terms with her growing desires. As tensions rise, Azriel and Elain embark on a charged first date, unable to resist giving in to their powerful mutual attraction.

Elain

Why is it the moment you know you can't have something that's suddenly all you can think about? Last night, after Azriel left, I spent the rest of the evening in a daze. I washed the tea set we had used so many times I ran out of soap. I decided to binge watch Peaky Blinder but had no idea what was happening. I tried to take a bath but the one thing the water couldn’t cleanse were the dirty words Azriel had said in his deep shadowy voice. Gods the way he looked at me, somehow touching me without using his hands. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking of him. His words echoing in my mind, playing on repeat. No fucking. No fucking. No fucking.

My body felt like a live wire of restless energy with no outlet. It took me hours to fall asleep. HOURS. 

When I  finally managed to drift off, I dreamt of him. He was doing the very thing he said he wouldn't. 

Now it’s morning and I’m barely awake floating between dreamland and reality. My skin is flush, my clothes feeling too restrictive. A part of me thinks he planned it. He seems devious in that way. Like he’s playing some reverse sex mind games on me and godsdamn him it’s working. 

The sound of my phone going off reminds me that I have to return to the real world. It’s Cerridwen begging to let her in the shop. In my panicked daze I throw together an outfit that doesn't make me want to die from heat exhaustion. I rush down the stairs and let her in. She whistles, “damn girl, you're looking hot.” I squint my eyes at her, “Why is it so hot in here? Is my AC broken?” 

She looks at me with concern, “it's a normal temperature, what has gotten into you? Oh shit, do you have a fever?” She slaps her hand onto my forehead. “Nah, you feel fine. But maybe you are fighting something? Do you know anyone who's sick?” I nod and mutter, “Azriel.”

“What did you say?”

I don't bother responding, I just head straight into the walk-in freezer for some relief.

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

“I’m telling you, it's a crime wave.” I hear Pauline shouting all the way from the kitchen. It's the morning rush when the townsfolk come in for their coffee and pasties. My shop is the first business open on Main Street and everyone, and I mean everyone , comes here before the day gets started. That's why I am scrambling from one end of the kitchen to the other preparing and finishing up orders. Usually I work up front but I'm not feeling up to socializing, despite the three shots of espresso I've had. I'm grateful I opted for less clothing today, with the heat of the ovens and me running back and forth, I am liquid fire. 

Cerridwen pops her head in looking flustered, “are you finished with those orders? I'm dying out here.” Cerridwen and her twin sister Nuala are my best friends and coworkers. They help me run the bakery. Sometimes, they even run it without me so I can take time off here and there. They’re the only people I trust to take care of my baby. So, when one of them says they need help, I know all hell has broken loose. “Let me plate these quiches and I'll be right out.” I finish up my task and carefully balance five plates on my forearms and hands. When I step out of the kitchen, I see what Cerr meant. It's standing room only and there is barely any standing room.

“I'm telling you Lucien, first Gabriel was streaking and now Lainey’s got her tits and ass out.” I nearly drop my plates. Thankfully, Cerr is there to lighten my load and help me out. Lucien has his back to me and gently pats Pauline on the arm, “Now Pauline, I told you Azriel was just running. It's not unusual for a man to take his shirt off while exercising. Besides, that is why we have the citizens watch.” Pauline huffs, “that's what I'm trying to tell you Lucien, our citizen watch has a report on Lainey.” I sit my plates down at their respective tables and walk up to Pauline. 

“What the hell Pauline?” She gasps like we’re on a soap opera, “Lainey, don't you run that potty mouth around me. Look at you dressed like a harlot and cursing like a sailor, what is happening in Hewn Hills?” 

Lucien looks me over, utterly bored. I glare at him until he turns his head away. “It's called a mini skirt Pauline,” I deadpan. She scoffs, “Well, Lucien, what are you going to do about it?” I cross my arms and look at him, “Yeah Lucien, what are you going to do about it?” I'm in no mood to humor the citizens watch today. I'm cranky, hot and out of fucks to give. Azriel has given me  permission to be bad, and after my terrible night of sleep, I’m more than willing to embrace the dark side. Lucien sputters, “well I… you see… Look Pauline, Elain isn't dressed like a harlot. So, I don't see an issue here.” She narrows her eyes at him, “Not like a harlot? She's all sexed up!” I hear Cerr snickering in the distance. The whole bakery goes quiet and turns toward us. Lucien looks me over one more time, “I don't think there's anything sexy about it.” 

Pauline guffaws, “I see what's happening here. It's like a boiled frog situation. You are so used to Elain's naked body you don't recognize when she's barely clothed.”

I feel my whole body shake with rage. Enough is enough . “Pauline, Lucien has never seen me naked. We are not in a relationship!” There is an awkward pause before Bob, the hardware store owner, says, “Didn't you two just go on a date?” 

Oh for the love of… how is my every move tracked by the people in this town. Lucien just stands there silent, not saying a word. It dawns on me that his unwillingness to speak up and clarify things has hurt me just as much as the gossip. All he has to do is set the record straight, say that we aren’t dating or he hasn’t seen me naked. Or heaven forbid I’m not required to date him. That I don't belong to him like I'm some sort of broodmare, but he doesn't. He is content with the status quo because it isn’t hurting him the way it’s hurting me . That spark of confidence, or maybe rage I felt earlier returns. “Lucien and I aren't dating. I'm… I’m seeing someone else.” I'm not exaggerating when I say the shock that filled the room was like a thunder clap. 

Before the town can scrape their jaws off the floor, I walk back to the kitchen and hide in the freezer. Not that I can escape the torrent of messages currently flooding my inbox.

Feyre: You're not dating Lucien? *read*

Nesta: Who is the mystery man I need to kill?! *read*

Cassian: Get it gurl! 🍑💦🍆 *read*

Rhys: Elain, Please respond to your sister. *unopened*

Hewn Hills Hussies group chat: 

Nu Nu: 🍾 girls night stat

Cerr: we need the deetz

*read*

Mr. Naked: Got something you want to tell me?

Elain: I didn't name drop I swear! I just panicked.

BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ

“Well … well… well if it isn't Mrs. Naked.” I groan. He laughs. I bang my head against a 20 lb sack of flour. “It’s not funny, I panicked Azriel, I couldn't handle the whole town thinking Lucien’s seen the goods.” He hums, “yes, they are clearly concerned for you.” I let out a long suffering sigh. 

I hear loud music and talking in the background, “Where are you?” 

“A bar.” 

I laugh nervously, “Why are you at a bar at 8 am? Why is a bar even open at 8 am?” 

The echo of pool sticks clanging fills the air, “I'm at work.” What kind of job does this man have?  

The image of him smiling wickedly as he said “bad things done extremely well” pops into my head. He rendered me speechless with those words, so much so that I forgot to press further. If he thinks I'm going to drop it he's delusional. I'm nosy and love a good secret. Nothing will keep me from finding out. But he doesn't need to know that. I can play the long game. 

“Well, your job seems a lot cooler than mine and I'm in a freezer.” 

“Why are you in the freezer if you're barely clothed, Mrs. Naked?” 

I groan pathetically, “I'm not naked Azriel, I'm wearing a mini skirt and a crop top.”

“And no bra.” 

I gasp. “What!?” I nervously look around. Does he have spies everywhere? Maybe he is James Bond. “How do you know that?” 

I can almost hear his smug smile. “Did you know there is a town discord?” I shake my head, the horror of my reality hitting me at full force. I let out a pathetic little, “No.” 

“Well there is and according to slimjim46 you're not wearing a bra. Sadly no pictures though.” 

What in the hell is going on?  

“Ughhh, how do you know about the town discord but I don't? And my chest is no one's business.” 

“It's my job to know these things and some might say it's your boyfriend's business.” Before I can respond he asks almost tenderly, “Do you need to give them my name so you come out of the freezer?” 

My stomach does a little flip. He's willing to take on the insanity that is this town for me and gods know what with his job. “That's sweet of you to offer but I need to woman up and clean up my own messes. Besides, it's more fun to leave them guessing.” 

I can hear his grin through the phone, “it's also the bad thing to do.” I agree and whisper, “so bad.” I swear I hear a groan before he says, “tell me Elain, what's got you so hot and bothered?” 

I roll my eyes, “who says I'm hot or bothered?” 

His voice dry and straight to the point, “you're currently hiding in a freezer and your teeth aren't chattering. Seems like something or someone has gotten under your skin.” The arrogance of this man is unbelievable but my gods is it a turn on. 

“Elain, I told you we can't fool around.” 

I let out a very unconvincing, “pfft that's not what's going on here.”

I sense his damn smug smile again, “Good, then you are ready for our first lesson in being bad.” I swear he pauses for dramatic effect, leaving me waiting on bated breath.

“I’m busy the next few days but I can take you out on our first date on Thursday night, if that works for you?” 

I pretend to think about it, “Yeah, I'm free.” 

“I’ll send you instructions, and Elain be sure you’re dressed to ride.”

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

It took me several minutes to realize what he meant by ride. Hello gutter, have you met my mind the last twelve hours? He meant a ride on his motorcycle… obviously. The problem is I don’t have any cool clothes for riding a motorcycle, but I know someone who does. I spend the rest of the day dodging questions at the bakery and avoiding my growing list of unanswered text messages and voicemails with the exception of one person… Nesta. 

She usually avoids me and everyone else for that matter unless she needs something. Which is why she attends Inner Circle dinners, Rhys and Feyre are bankrolling her life. I take a deep breath and text her…

Elain: Can I come over after work?

Nesta: 🙄 fine but you better tell me about your boyfriend. 

I worry my lip with my teeth. There is no way I am telling her about Azriel but as long as I can get my foot in the door, I can sweet talk my way into what I want. 

I change out of my skirt and throw on a pair of cut off shorts. I am still feeling overheated and decided to ride my bike over to Nesta’s place just so I can feel the wind in my hair. Her studio apartment is located in a less desirable area of Hewn Hills, which doesn’t mean much since the whole town is beautiful. What makes the area rough is the slightly overgrown lawns and the occasional abandoned vehicle. I knock on the door and wait for Nesta to answer. I hear the sound of empty cans and bottles being kicked around before the door cracks open. The light from outside reveals a sliver of one of Nesta’s cold gray eyes looking at me. She slides the chain off the rail and opens the door wider. 

Her apartment is littered with empty alcohol containers. It smells of spilled beer and stale sweat. I take a steadying breath, trying to remind myself that she doesn’t want my help, no matter how many times I offer or down right beg. That doesn’t mean I don’t bring her food when I can or find excuses to bump into her. She turns away and slinks back to the ratty used couch she found near a dumpster. She plops down and covers herself in a throw blanket before she barks, “What do you want?” 

I take an uneasy step inside before I say, “I came to see if I could borrow some clothes.” She eyes me suspiciously and nods her head toward the rack of clothes near the bed. I start to comb through my options when she asks curtly, “so, the boyfriend. Who is he?” 

I close my eyes and brace myself for the interrogation before the fight, “No one you know.” I hear her stand from the couch and approach me, “where did you meet him?” I avoid looking at her, “I met him in Velaris, after my failed date with Lucien.” It was close to the truth, I did see Azriel after my date with Lucien. The best lies always hold some truth to them. 

“Does he have a name?” I exhale sharply, “Yes, but as I said you wouldn’t know him.” My hands catch on a pair of black leather pants. They are dark and sleek, they remind me of Azriel. Not my usual style but that's why I'm here, to step out of my comfort zone. To break out of the box I've been in my whole life. Maybe I'm not the kind of girl who wears leather pants but I'll never know unless I try. I pull them off the hanger and ask Nesta if I can borrow them. She raises a sharp eyebrow at me, like she can’t quite believe what I am asking. “You want to wear those?” she says incredulously. “Yup,” is all I can manage. 

She scoffs, “They're a bit sexy for you, don’t you think?”

Before I can answer, she barrels ahead, “Do you need to impress this new boyfriend? Is he not into prim flower girls?” 

I cut my eyes to her, “Why do you care?” 

“I don’t. It just seems rather sad that you have to pretend to be dating someone. When are you going to grow a spine and tell Lucien to fuck off?”

I sigh and take a calming breath before I reply, “Lucien knows I'm not interested and I assure you, he is not interested in me.”I hate the way she makes me feel, like I need to answer to her, that she is the arbiter of my life. I try to remind myself that she is in a vulnerable place right now. What she needs from me is patience. T his is what Nesta does, she lashes out before anyone can hurt her. And I always have to be the bigger person, the kinder sister, the one willing to bend so nothing else breaks.

I remind myself that deep down Nesta is sensitive, she loves fiercely and that’s why she behaves the way she does, she is frightened. She hasn’t been the same since our fathers death. Despite her claims she hated him, she was deeply hurt by his years of neglect. She hasn’t truly healed. I’ve learned the hard way that there is no helping Nesta unless she wants to help herself. 

I settle on avoiding a confrontation that will lead nowhere, “Can I please borrow the pants? I promise to return them.” 

She sighs, “Fine.” 

I mutter a thank you and head for the door.  “Good luck with your fake boyfriend Elain, don’t come crying to me when it blows up in your face.” I’m two steps outside her front door when a lonely tear falls down my cheek. I take the small bag of groceries from the basket on my bike and I place it on her doorstep. I pull away and wait for her to open the door and take the food before I go home.

Azriel

I end my call with Elain and look at the photo that’s now saved in a secret folder hidden among the apps of my phone. I lied, there was a picture of Elain on discord and she’s wearing a skimpy little outfit, so far from her typical attire I’m surprised she owns such a thing. I, of course, tracked down the user who posted it and got his IP address. The background check is in the works and I fully plan to ruin his life. I take one long look at the picture before I block her from my mind for the next few hours. 

The email Devlon sent me yesterday included a report of a bar fight where an unregistered handgun was seized. One of the suspects was reportedly wearing a leather vest with a gang emblem associated with The Attors, a broken crown with three drops of blood. Hybern’s crew has officially made their move and now I can make mine. After I left Elain’s, I spent most of the night staking out the bar from the safe house. No gang members were spotted until this morning. One of the peculiar things I’ve noticed about this bar is that it never closes. A sign the Attors’ are up to no good. Which is why I am now sitting at the bar first thing in the morning waiting to strike. The code phrase worked at getting me inside but if the weary looks of the patrons are any indication, my presence is both noted and unwelcomed. I suppose they are not used to seeing people this early in the morning who aren’t a part of the “business.” I feel more than see a figure come to stand behind me. 

“Are you new to this area, friend?” I refuse to turn and look at him, if he wants to talk he can look me in the eye. Sensing my unwillingness to bow to his display of intimidation the man steps forward and sits beside me. I note the hint of an accent and the vest he’s wearing. I fight back the smug grin threatening to reveal itself. It’s go time.  

“No, but you are.” I note the barely perceptible tick of his jaw as he glares daggers at me. Clearly not used to losing the upper hand. The nervous bartender comes forward and places a wobbling glass of whiskey next to the Attor. I use this opportunity to pull my hand out and place it on the bar. The bartender stumbles back and mutters a curse.  A wave of awareness sweeps through the bar. The faint whisperings of Shadowsinger sound like screams in the now quiet bar. The scars on the back of my hand have become something of a signature. A grim calling card that not only echoes my fathers cruelty by my own reputation. I can feel the confidence of the man next to me slip, suddenly unsure of the situation he now finds himself in. 

“You are in my town, friend .” The throat of the Attor bobs in apprehension. “Let’s get acquainted, shall we?” I let myself smile, one I reserve for men like him and unsheath the dagger at my side. 

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

It takes an hour to scrub the blood off of my body. I am barely dressed before Devlon calls and congratulates me on a job well done. My little show at Amarantha’s has already sent a shock wave through the criminal underground that the Shadwosinger is back in Windhaven. “Lucky for you that your father’s legacy hasn’t faded in all of these years.” I don't respond. The only legacy my father left is fear. The same legacy I’m leaving behind. Devlon takes my silence as an incentive to keep talking, too often silence only breeds more drabble. “The local police called to beg for our help already, you should be proud.” I snort. “The local sheriff told me that organized crime has been down over the last few decades, it’s a good thing you showed up when you did.” I grunt like a brute because that’s exactly how I feel after the little display of violence at the bar. 

“Why Devlon, that almost sounds like praise.” 

”Yeah well, don’t let it go to your head, your ego is already over inflated.” 

I should feel proud but instead I just stare at my hands and feel shame. This is why I need to keep my relationship with Elain superficial. She can’t get close, I can’t expose her to this side of me. I tell myself I do the things I do for work to help make the world a better place. But the truth is I enjoy it. I like taking power and exerting control over someone. I like the sound of them pleading. Whether it’s because I was once weak and fragile I don’t not know. What I do know is Elain deserves better. I close my eyes. Rhys was right to be worried. To warn me away. But, I am a selfish bastard and I can’t keep away. 

Elain

The next few days pass in a blur. The rumor mill about who I’m dating was in full swing and I noticed more than a few people keeping a close eye on the bakery. Feyre calls several times but I let them all go to voicemail. I’m grateful she’s too wrapped up in Velaris to give me the full weight of her attention. 

I join Cerridwen and Nuala for a girls night where I tell them about my new boyfriend. I don’t give them Azriel’s name but I share what I can about him. Including the sex embargo he’s imposed. They listen intently, they don’t tease me or pressure me to reveal more information than I am comfortable with. That’s one of the things I love most about them, they meet me where I am and never demand more than I am capable of giving.

“He sounds like Jason Bourne or maybe a mafia don.” I nod, “That’s what I’ve been thinking!” Cerridwen pours a generous helping of margarita before plopping down on my couch. “Have you Googled him to see if you can find anything?” offers Nuala. “Of course I Googled him but he’s off the grid. Not even a social media profile.” They give each other knowing looks, “definitely a spy then.” 

Nuala giggles, “Wait, is that why you were so flustered the other morning?” I feel my cheeks start to heat, “umm… yeah, that was after the whole no fucking talk.” 

She thinks for a minute, “Maybe penis is broken?” I choke on my drink,“No, I don’t think it’s that.” They both take a minute to think it over before Cerridwen adds, “Maybe he’s afraid of intimacy, those strong brooding types always are.” That makes more sense than the broken penis thing. 

Nuala gives me a devious smile, “You should test him!” I glance at her confused, “test him?” She nods and sits her glass down, “you know, see how committed he is to abstaining. If you are this hot and bothered there is no way he is unphased.” 

“I don’t know he seems like the type of man who is unflappable. Besides I get the feeling he won’t like being pushed. He’s been more than kind so far, I want to respect his boundaries.” 

Cerridwen rolls her eyes, “Uh huh, aren’t you supposed to be bad?” I smile at her, “baby steps.” 

Nuala claps her hands excitedly, “I know what you need!” She reaches for her phone, fingers flying as she types. Nuala looks at Cerridwen. They do that creepy twin thing where they communicate without speaking and then say in unison, “vibrator.” 

“I’m not sure that’s what I need.” They both wave their hands dismissively, “Come on Elain, you are dating a hot man who refuses to dick you down. And you're too nice to test him on it. How else are you going to survive?” I pause for a second and realize they have a point. Before I can answer Nu ominous replies, “it’s done.” 

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

The next day, date day, I find a manilla envelope under my door. Inside is a note from Azriel addressed to me:

Elain,Meet me at the townhouse at 6 PM. Don’t deviate from the plan. 

-Azriel

Inside is a map with detailed instructions on how to walk to the townhouse without being detected. There are handwritten notes in the margins explaining which position is better and why. There are timestamps and coordinates. I half expected the note to self-destruct after I finished reading it. One thing's for certain the man is thorough which begs an intriguing question of what it would be like to kiss him. Noooope I’m not letting myself go there. 

I put on the leather pants and stare in the mirror. I feel a little bit like Sandy in Grease when she goes through her bad girl makeover in an attempt to win over Danny Zuko. But mostly I feel like I'm on the cusp of a fundamental shift. Like I'm finally becoming who I've always wanted to be. Someone bold, adventurous and willing to be a little dangerous. I trace the curve of my hip and a thrill shoots down my spine. I'm about to jump off a cliff leaving the old Elain behind. I'm going to embrace the side of me I've hidden away. The part of me that's clawing to be let out. 

I look over at the pink package that was delivered this morning. The vibrator Nuala ordered taunts me like it knows exactly what I’m thinking. But I can’t go there, not now. 

Inhaling long and hard, I focus on the plan. I’m to meet Azriel inside the townhouse garage. He claims he will orchestrate a diversion so that we can pull out of the garage on his motorcycle undetected. Listen, this is high stakes stuff. Even Jack Ryan would be sweating if he were faced with the potential of Pauline’s discovery on one of his missions. I might as well go on Instagram Live with it because everyone from here to Velaris will know that Azriel is my secret boyfriend before I even have time to ride his motorcycle.

I snake my way through trees and hedges just as Azriel instructed, clinging to the shadows. I ignore the weeds in Josie’s flower bed that need to be pulled and the whining of Bob’s hound dog begging for pets. I slink my way around corners and alleyways as I make my way to the townhouse. I spot the side door of Feyre’s garage. It’s left cracked just as he said it would be. Here’s the tricky part. I have to sneak in undetected. There is just one neighbor with a clear shot of the door. Azriel said to wait until exactly 5:55 pm. That’s when Sam, the town’s only accountant, will leave his home office for the rest of the day. I peek up to see his window is cracked and he’s on a business call. My cell says it’s now 5:56 and I start to panic. I’ve followed his instructions perfectly at this point. Should I just run for it? Do I not care if Sam see’s me sneak into my sister’s house? Before I make a decision I hear Sam end his call and the sound of his footsteps fading. I rush for the door and slam it shut behind me. A thrill runs through me, I feel dangerous, my blood pounding and my chest heaving. I’ve never felt this way before and it’s intoxicating.

Azriel

I turn to see a panting Elain pressed against the side door, her eyes pressed closed and a small smile forming on her lips. I’m far too pleased to see that she followed my instructions. “Hi,” I say, looking her over and holy gods.“Hi yourself,” she says in a flirty tone. Her long golden hair is braided and draped gently over her delicate shoulder. She’s wearing skin tight leather pants that hug her supple curves. They look so good on her, like she’s destined for the dark side. My eyes trace up her form and snag on the sheer white t-shirt that reveals a hint of the baby pink bra underneath. The sunlight from the door window lights up her heart-shaped face. I swear the sunlight hits this woman differently than other people. The golden rays sink into her skin and make her glow. 

The urge to run my hands over those curves causes my fingers to twitch at my side. Desire punching me in the stomach. I can’t help it, I keep staring - and everything gets so much worse as Elain turns around to look out the window, making sure the coast is clear. My gaze sweeps over the dip of her waist to the swell of her perfect ass. My cock twitches.  

As hard as it is, I remind myself to focus and pull out the amethyst gift bag I’ve stashed away. “For the ride,” my voice is more husky than I anticipated.  

Her hand gently grazes mine as she takes the gift from me. A pulse of energy sends a shiver down my spine. I watch as she pulls out the black leather riding jacket I spent way too much money on. Her fingers sweep over the supple buttery material and dance over the delicate flowers embroidered down the forearms and along the collar. The pattern is a mix of bright red roses, plum colored violets, and pink begonias intricately stitched with verdant leaves. The letter E is elegantly sewn along the left lapel. It’s probably too much but it reminded me of Elain and I wanted her to have it. Even if all we get is this one ride together it's worth it. 

She tugs on the jacket an asks, “How do I look?” 

I swallow the lump forming in my throat, “Perfect.” More than perfect . Elain walks toward me, placing her warm hand on my arm as she stands on her toes and kisses my cheek. “Thank you.” The gesture takes me by surprise and nearly unravels me. All the brooding self deprecating thoughts from earlier this week melt away with that painfully sweet gesture. 

Clearing my throat, I turn my attention back to the point of our date and gesture Elain toward my motorcycle. We walk through the proper way to get on and off a bike. Noting to avoid the muffler pipe on the side that will get hot enough to burn. I explain that we’re going to ride to the base of Ramiel, a mountain in the Illyrian steppes. Her eyes sparkle with excitement as I pass her a helmet. I lean forward and gently tighten the strap under her chin. Unable to resist the opportunity to help her, to touch her, to do more. 

Swinging my leg over the bike, I turn to her and pat the spot behind me. Her soft thighs press into mine and a thrill runs through me knowing how intimate riding together will be. 

As we take off, I hear the explosive I put in the neighbors trash can go off, providing us with the perfect distraction to ride off and leave the world behind. 

“Hold tight and don’t make a sound.” 

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

I try to take in the sensations of riding but all I can think about is the feel of Elain’s soft body pressed against mine. The way her hands grip my waist. Despite all the layers of leather we still feel impossibly close. It takes awhile for my thoughts to clear long enough to feel the familiar rush of the wind as it moves past us. How the motorcycle hugs the curves of the road. I increase the speed, feeling the familiar rush of blood pounding in my ears as adrenaline takes over. I feel free. I feel alive. I hear Elain giggle in my ear. Like she can’t help the burst of joy that springs free as we fly down a steep hill. I laugh with her, unable to mask my own happiness. “Oh, I didn’t realize the helmets have mics.” Her shyness quickly fades as we round another curve. “This is amazing,” she shouts like she might burst with joy.

For the next half hour we make our way around the winding road that leads to Ramiel. I point out interesting parts of the terrain. I find myself sharing funny stories of my childhood with Rhys and Cass. It’s always easier to open up with Elain, even when I have every intention not to. When we’re not talking I relish the peaceful quiet moments. Content just to be here with her, where I don't have to share her with anyone else. 

The summer evening is fading into the golden glow of dusk. Ramiel looms ahead like a great mythical beast. “There is a small bar up ahead that we can stop and eat at. It's nothing fancy but it's one of the only places in Illyria I like.” I hope she doesn’t hear the subtext of my statement. Unlike Cassian, I loathe Illyria and my past here. But she doesn't push me.  As someone whose worst days constantly define her present, I think Elain sympathizes with my reluctance to share my darker memories. I try not to think about those now. Not while I'm with her. I don't want to tarnish this precious time I have with Elain for anything.

We pull up to a small building, aged and weather worn, there is a rustic sort of charm to it which is why I felt safe bringing her here. It’s not the type of spot tourists would visit but a hidden gem that only a local would love. The parking lot is gravel with a few motorcycles parked out front. The sign was faded but legible enough, ‘Siphon Station.’ We park the bike and get off. Turning to Elain. I gently unbuckle her helmet and offer her a scarred hand to help her down. I watch as she nervously messes with her braid, making sure it is suitable. 

I gently place a hand on her lower back and walk us through the front door. The place is smaller than I remember, there’s the familiar bar with eight stools, a few booths on the far side and a pool table in the back. Adjacent from the pool table is a dart board on the wall. Some of my favorite memories of Illyria are from this bar, getting drunk with my brothers and emptying their pockets when I beat them at every game we played. 

There are just a couple of other customers scattered around and a barman. They all stop and stare at us as we walk in and they quickly avert their eyes. I see Devon is right, my presence has already spread like wildfire . I lead us to a booth where Elain sits while I grab us something to drink. The barman pours us two whiskey shots while avoiding looking at me. Before I can pull out my wallet he mutters it’s on the house. I walk back to Elain, who is carefully taking in our surroundings. I hand her one of the glasses and sit across from her.

“Is this bar you called me from the other day?”

“No, that was a place in Windhaven.” 

She nods, “What kind of work required you to be at a bar so early in the morning?” There she is. No one else dares to ask me such direct questions, especially not about my work. I like that she isn’t afraid of me, that she feels safe asking but I can’t share that part of myself with her. So, I down my drink and stare into her eyes, “the kind I can't talk about.” 

I can see the urge to push me on it, to fight the rules I laid out. There is a quiet rebellion in Elain, one that tells me she doesn't like to do what she's told. Neither do I. That fact that we share that same defiant spark turns me on. I rub my hand through my hair, in an attempt to clear my head of my treacherous thoughts. 

“Have you checked out the town discord yet?”

She shrugs, “I'm afraid to look, why?”

“There's a poll on who your secret boyfriend is.”

“Oh gods,” she groans and puts her head on the table. “I'm half afraid to ask but, who are the contenders?”

I pull out my phone and show her. The options are Lucien, Graysen, Mr. Naked and lastly Elain is lying. Currently the last option is winning with Lucien not far behind. 

“Well, it looks like our secret is safe,” she says. Elain doesn't seem surprised by the results. She sighs heavily, “Nesta said I was making up a boyfriend too. I don't know which is worse, that they think my love life is their business or that they don't seem to know me at all.”

The barman places two plates on the table with sandwiches and pub chips. We eat quietly for a few moments before I ask, “Can I ask you something?” she nods. “Why don’t you tell them how you feel?” She looks at me confused, ”Who?” I give her a knowing look, “your sisters, the town, Lucien, you know… all of them.”

She mulls it over for a minute, “I don't want to hurt their feelings.” I shake my head, “You just walk around all day worrying about other people's feelings?” 

She gives me a bewildered look, “Yeah, don't you?’ 

“No.” Then more teasingly I ask, “Elain, how do you get anything done?” 

She gives me a small teasing smile, “It's really hard.”

I laugh. A deep belly shaking laugh. She is so funny when she’s not hiding herself away. 

“What would you do if you didn’t have to worry about what everyone else thought or expected?”

She takes a deep breath, like no one has ever asked her the question before and it makes me angry and sad for her. “Well, I’ve always wanted to travel. Anywhere really but if I had to choose where to start, I would want to see the tulip fields in the Netherlands first.” I listen, completely mesmerized by the quiet passion in her voice as she explains the cultivation process and the wide variety of bulbs used. She raves about how special the flowers are because they bloom for such a short period of time. 

Desperate for me I demand, “What else?” 

She looks at the rose on my hand and nods to it, “I’ve always wanted a tattoo.” I lean forward, feeling more than a little pleased.

“Why haven’t you?” 

She shrugs, “I don’t know. It would be too shocking. It would be out of character.” 

My eyes meet hers, “It seems to me, Elain, that you are waiting for someone to give you permission to be yourself.” 

She lets out a ragged breath, “That’s not true.” 

I click my tongue and run the pad of my thumb across her lips, “Did you know, you press your lips together right before you lie?” She closes her eyes, as if savoring the touch. She's so beautifully responsive. It makes me want to lay her out on the pool table and see how many little gasps and moans I can draw out of her. 

She says softly, a barely perceptible whisper, “I don’t know how to be anything else.” 

I release her face, “that’s not true, the hiding is the act, who you are is already there.”

She looks at my hand again, I see her fingers twitch as though she’s tempted to trace the ink there. She says shyly, “I’ve always admired the tattoo on your hand.” I look at my mottled hand and a wave of affection sweeps through me at the memory. 

“I actually designed this, I got it for my mother.” My heart squeezes a little. I wanted a reminder of the beauty in the world, a reminder of all the happy moments with her and I could think of no better place than my mutilated hand. My mother has always been the only person I could feel safe with, the only one who truly loves me no matter what. Before I realize it I start to speak.

“When I was a child, I rarely got to see her. I told you of how she taught me about flowers and told stories. Her favorite flower is a rose and she had these massive hedges of them in her backyard. Roses of every shade and variety. They were so beautiful. I would play there pretending in those hedges like they were part of my enchanted gardens. When it was time for my father to come and get me I would hide in those hedges. I knew he couldn’t reach in and grab me without cutting himself on the thorns. He didn’t know all the secret ways to slip in without getting scratched. I was safe there, tucked away in my mothers roses. Since then roses have reminded me of my mother, of the beauty she cultivated and the safety they provided.”

I notice her watching me closely and I know what she’s thinking. “Come on - don’t give me that look, please.” 

“Am I giving you a look?”

“Yes, a heavy one.” I bite the side of my cheek, “I’m fine now, it’s in the past.” Her eyes soften as she looks at me with concern.

Her soft finger grazes over my jaw, “If I press my lips together when I lie, then you bite the inside of your cheek when you do.” I turn away from her touch, stunned by how well she can see the truth behind the carefully constructed facade I hide behind. 

I turn my attention back to the topic at hand, “Let’s figure out what tattoo you should get.”

She gives me another look, like she might push me but to my relief she decides to drop it instead.

“Hmmm…  I don't know, maybe a slice of pie or a piece of cake here.” She points to the delicate skin on her wrist. “Or even here.” She turns and runs a hand along her ribs and underneath her breast. I let myself imagine it for a second and I run my tongue along the front of my teeth. “You should definitely get that it would be very sexy.”

“You think I would be sexy with a tattoo?”

I snort out a quick laugh. She must be joking. “No Elain. Don’t get it twisted. I already think you’re sexy without a tattoo. So I know you would be with one.”

She shifts uncomfortably, a look of anger and maybe even disappointment on her face. Something I said struck a nerve but before I can ask she quickly adjusts her expression. She smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes. It’s the smile I’ve seen her give Lucien a thousand times. Never once has it been directed at me. My hands clench and I want to demand for her to tell me what’s going on in that head of hers but she didn’t push me on my childhood and the least I can do is let this go. For now.

“Anything else?”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I was a fan of Sons of Anarchy. I’ve always wanted to ride a motorcycle. So, thank you.” I give her a mischievous smile, “You want to drive it?” She stares at me unsure if I’m sincere, but she nods emphatically. I stand up and reach out my hand, “then you'll have to earn it.”

I hold onto her hand and take her over to the dart board. “You'll have to beat me if you want to ride.” The tension from a moment ago is gone and is replaced with something else. 

She crosses her arms over her perky chest drawing my eyes to the lace peeking through the thin fabric. “and what do you get if I lose?” 

I grab a handful of darts and walk toward her, “if you lose, you'll have to get that tattoo.”

“But I've never played before.” Her doe eyes batting at me innocently. If she thinks I’m going to go easy on her because she’s beautiful shes got another thing coming. I have a reputation to uphold. That doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy myself though. I look her over and a plan is starting to form. If she wants me to teach her a lesson, I’ll be more than happy to. In fact, I'm going to see if my theory is correct, that she's been thinking about me as much as I've been thinking of her. 

I tug her in front of the dart board and sweep my hand down her arm, appreciating the trail of goosebumps I leave behind. I place a dart between her unmarred fingers and bring her hand in front of us. She smells divine like jasmine and honey and I fight the urge to press my face into her neck. 

“The trick to darts is in the wrist. Keep your elbow up at a ninety degree angle and use your wrist to propel it forward.” I let my hand skate back down to her elbow and grip her there adjusting her position. 

Pressing my lips to her ear I whisper,“There you go honey, show me what you've got.” 

I smile as I feel her shiver in my grasp. She’s clearly still worked up from earlier this week. I decide to be nice and step away from her so she can focus on taking her shot. 

Elain sends the dart  forward and it hits the far left side, narrowly missing the board. 

She turns to me disappointed. Swaggering up for my turn I give her a pat on the back for effort and then easily send a dart into the red circle in the center. 

“Now let’s try this again. Remember to flick your wrist like this,” I say as I take her hand into mine and move it back and forth. She bites her lip as she leans back into me. “And I keep my arm up like this, right?” My hand tightens on hers. I’m momentarily lost to the feel of her ass pressing into my cock and I imagine Cassian in the sauna to try and keep an erection from forming. Thankfully that does the trick. “Azriel?” Elain asks completely oblivious to where my mind has gone.

“Yes, just like that,” I manage to say. 

She steps out of my grasp and I watch as her shoulders relax and she loses the dart and it lands directly in the middle, a perfect bullseye. Almost too perfect. She turns to me with a satisfied smirk on her face. I narrow my eyes at her, “Elain.” 

Her smile drops ever so slightly, “beginner's luck?” she says innocently. 

“ Elain .” 

She steps toward me, “maybe, you're just that good of a teacher.” 

Her eyes meet mine, a twinkle of wicked delight is dancing there.

“ Elain .” I nearly moan. 

“What's the matter? Afraid you'll lose?” 

I know she’s bating me. I know she’s using my competitiveness against me. I’ve been played and I’m too turned on by her devious smile to be mad. I want to taste that smile. I want to pin her against the wall and see what other little games she’s like to play. But I also want to win.

I scoff, pressing forward, nearly nose to nose with her. I lean down to press my words into the hollow of her neck, “if you learn one thing about me honey, it’s that I never lose.” 

I reach down and pull the dart from her hand. I stalk toward the board, determined to get what I want. I always get what I want, one way or another. 

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

When we get back to the motorcycle, Elain has a faint pout on her lips. I would have never suspected her to be a sore loser, though she's too polite to admit it. Those brown eyes meet mine and I feel a little bit guilty. Normally I wouldn’t feel bad for winning so decisively but this is Elain. I never planned on denying her a chance to drive my bike. As if I could deny her anything. We get back on the motorcycle and I explain how there is an old dirt road at the base of Ramiel where she can safely practice driving. She whispers faintly through the mic, “Thank you, Azriel” and I smile to myself.

All around us are beautiful views. We’re elevated enough to see the rolling hills below but far enough down to see the peak of Ramiel standing proudly ahead. I bring us to a stop and help Elain off the bike. Then I slide backwards and pat the space in front of me. Placing my hands on her full hips, I gently guide her down until she is seated in front of me. I’m aware of her every move as I feel her lean back into my lap. My hands graze down the sides of her arms, placing her hands on the handle bars. I describe how to use the throttle and break, all the while I let my fingers hug hers as we practice gripping. 

“You think you got it?” She nods, I slide my hand down to her plump thigh and give her an encouraging pat, “‘whenever you’re ready.” 

Elain gently eases the throttle forward and we start moving, tentatively at first but with encouragement she becomes more confident in her ability. Her giggles of excitement fill my ears as she drives us down the road. I let my hands snake up to the middle of her waist, my hands nearly covering the entirety of her. The thought of it thrills me. I can’t resist the urge to pull her further into me. “There you go honey, you’re doing so well.” 

We near a curve and I bring my arm fully around her waist, pulling her tight, “lean into the curve with me,” enjoying the feeling of her ass pressing deeper into my lap. The route is quiet with nothing but views and the fading sun to keep us company. I focus on the road as best as I can. But I feel Elain everywhere. The sensation of her in front of me and the smell of her hair somehow getting through the face shield of my helmet. She presses her back into me and my grip on her tightens. Without realizing it, I find myself tracing circles on her lower belly. I need a space if I am going to maintain any sort of composure.

I direct Elain to pullover at a clearing up ahead. She awkwardly tries to break, failing to slow in a steady manner. I lean into her taking the handlebars to help. The change in the angle pushes her down beneath me and I swear I hear a faint whimper through the mic. She quickly takes off her helmet like she wants to avoid being heard. The last bit of the sun is falling behind the horizon. Dark blues and pinks paint the sky as the end of day nears. “Thank you for bringing me here, it’s beautiful.” Her expression is so open and trusting.

I changed my mind, the last thing I want is space. I wrap my arms around her and she leans back into my frame. “It’s one of my favorite spots in Illyria.” My head suddenly racing with how wrong it is to hold her like this, to want her when I shouldn’t. How she wouldn’t want my touch if she knew what my hands had done. Suddenly the image of the blood that coated them earlier this week flashes before me and I flinch.

She tilts her head back to look at me. My breath catches, my head suddenly quiet. I tenderly rub my knuckle across the apple of her cheek. For a moment, I think about kissing her but I remember the flare of hurt from earlier and can’t resist asking. “Elain, earlier when we talked you seemed to get upset with me. I'm sorry, if what I said bothered you.” 

“You have nothing to apologize for, Azriel.”

“I do though - I called you sexy and you seemed upset. I think I crossed a line and I want to apologize.”

“No, oh gods,” she buries her face in her hands, “I’m so embarrassed. Let’s just forget about it.”

“I’m sorry but I can't do that. What happened Elain? Are you upset I think you’re sexy? Are you afraid it’s going to change things between us?”

“No. I’m just upset because you’re teasing me!”

“Teasing you?”

“Yes, teasing me! I was finally opening up about the things that I want and you were mocking me. I felt silly because you are you and well I’m angel Elain. I forgot who I was supposed to be and you reminded me I’m nothing like the girl who gets tattoos, wears leather pants and seduces men in bars. It was just too much, it felt like a lie.” I press my hand against her lips to silence her.

“None of that was a lie Elain. I swear to you I’m not mocking you. I certainly don’t think you’re silly. And the part where I called you sexy is true you are unbelievably sexy. You weren’t even trying and you were seducing me.” And that’s when I notice the tears welling up in those honey colored eyes. I shift my hand from her mouth to her cheek and rub the tear rolling down her face. “Elain why does that make you cry?”

She turns her gaze from mine and shakes her head desperately like she’s hoping to shake her feelings away. “Because no one has ever said that to me before.” Those eyes open again and a burst of potent feelings hit me square in the chest. “They say it about Nesta and Feyre - but never me. I’m always praised for being sweet and kind and obedient. I’m the girl next door, the innocent one. I’m never viewed like that. Just the other day when I was at the bakery Lucien,” she trails off. 

“What did Lucien say?” I ask, feeling every muscle in my body go rigid. 

“Pauline was demanding he do something about my outfit and he said I wasn't sexy.”

“I’ll murder him.”

“Azriel,” she reprimands me with a surprised laugh. 

“I’m serious Elain. That guy doesn’t deserve to go on living for making you feel so shitty.” She laughs and I shift my hand around the back of her neck pulling her to face me completely. Not willing to let her go. “And he’s wrong about you. First, he was wrong about you being boring. You say you aren’t the type of girl that seduces men in bars but you had me eating out of the palm of your hand. Even when you think you’re doing something wrong you’re so godsdamn tempting that I wanted to lay you out and do things to you in the middle of the bar so filthy that they would have arrested us for public indecency. Second, how can you be boring when you light up every room you walk in with that perfect smile. My gods, you are drop dead gorgeous. So beautiful it’s hard to look at you and continue persuading myself that kissing you would be a mistake because of our agreement. And third, that ass.”

She gasps, “What about it?”

“Your ass is a masterpiece. Soft and curvy, it kills me. Your ass kills me Elain. And I need you to know if we weren’t just dating in the short term I would have already…” I let the sentence dangle as my eyes rake over her, implying everything I’ve dreamed of doing with Elain but not saying it out loud because I’ve already said too much as it is. In fact I think this is the longest I have talked in ages. What scares me the most is how much I enjoy talking to her. How I enjoy teasing her and coaxing out her reactions. I’m so good at playing games at seducing women. At strategically moving pieces around so that I can be seductive without having to actually give anyone a piece of myself. Without risking my feelings. But just now I was more honest than I’ve ever been in my life. 

I’m not playing games with Elain - I’m practically spilling my heart out to her. When our gazes lock again, her tears are gone. Instead her cheeks are rosy and she’s pressing a smile into the back of her hand. I gently angle her face closer to mine, “do you believe me?” She nods silently. And then her gaze drops to my lips. “You were wrong about something.”

“What’s that?”

“It wouldn’t be a mistake to kiss me.”

My heart pounds inside my chest. “It wouldn’t.”

“No. In fact, I think we should kiss because I could use the practice.”

“Elain, I told you we have to keep things PG.”

She smiles at me, “Kissing is PG according to the British Board of Film Classification.”

I fight back a smile. “Besides,” she adds, “I want to change the terms of our agreement.” She shifts until she is sitting facing me on the bike. “The whole thing started with me wanting to prove I’m not boring like Lucien said. That I can be bad… but the more time I spend with you, the more I feel myself coming to life. Something I can’t quite pinpoint but I don’t want to lose either. You make me feel different. I feel free when I’m with you. I feel adventurous and… curious.” A naughty twinkle sparks in her eyes and I feel my stomach clinch. I don’t respond, I have to know where this is going.

“So, I was wondering if you’d be someone to help me practice taking risks with, doing new things, and… maybe finding out who I am now?”

“Is that really what you want Elain?” I ask, dragging my thumb across her lower lip. 

“If it’s not too much to ask,” she says in a quiet whisper. 

“And tonight, you want to try kissing?”

Her chest rises with a heavy breath, “I haven’t kissed anyone in a couple of years. I need to shake off the cobwebs. See if I’m any good at it.”

That stuns me. 

I wrap my arms around her tugging her closer. I ask, “No one has kissed you in years Elain? How is that possible?” I’ve wanted to kiss her every second since I’ve met her. 

I feel her tremble against me. “Maybe there is something wrong with me. No one ever tries. I think my reputation makes men think I don’t like this stuff.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” I push back the hair that’s fallen loose from her braid and do what I’ve been fantasizing about since the day we met and sink my hands into her thick golden hair. I tug her head back and angle her face just the way I want it. I bend down to the corner of her mouth and whisper, “Nothing’s wrong with you honey.” 

“I might be bad at this,” she warns, eyes wide, watching me as I tease the edges of her lips. 

“I’m prepared.” And then just as I am about to close the gap, an idea hits me and I pull away. She looks disappointed, she thinks I’ve changed my mind.

“We still can’t fuck Elain, not unless you’re ready to fall in love with me.” She looks relieved that I still plan to kiss her. Those doe eyes are heavy lidded as if she’s intoxicated, “Good idea,” she adds and I smile. It’s not clear if she agrees with me that we can’t sleep together or if she thinks it's a good idea that we should. Either way,  I like the ambiguity of it. It will drive me crazy later wondering what she meant. The tension between us is cracking and I can tell she wants me to rush this and kiss her already, but the truth is, I love drawing it out. I love taking my time torturing us both. Truth be told there is no one I love torturing more than myself. 

Wrong - so wrong. It has never gone this far before.  But I don’t care. I need to know what the skin of her neck tastes like. What those perfect lips taste like. 

I sink my face down to her throat and lay one soft kiss there at the base. Her breath catches and I move to kiss under her jaw, opening my mouth to feel the warm press of her skin along my tongue. She shivers and I smile, moving up to kiss the corner of her mouth. The moment her warm, plush lips press into mine, my world spins. Any finesse or control I feel is destroyed, and I am suddenly at her mercy. 

She presses her body into mine and even though we aren’t doing more than pushing our lips together it already feels impossibly good. I force myself to keep it light even though I want nothing more than to have her bare and writhing beneath me. 

I only intended for it to be a quick luxurious kiss to get her blood warm. But damn . Her lips respond to mine as she rises to wrap her hands around my neck and my body thrums. My fingers curl into her hair and along the skin of her back. She’s so damn supple and as I slant my lips against hers I can’t help the slide of tongue into her mouth. 

Elain sighs the sweetest moan into my mouth as she parts her lips for me. Inviting me in to take more of her. She presses up and wraps her legs around my waist and our kiss quickly turns from chaste to devouring. I’m pulling her against me, my head swirling like I’ve had multiple rounds of whiskey. I savor every gasp and flick of her delicious tongue, every intentional press of her body into mine. And as I adjust myself back allowing her to climb even further into my lap the bike rocks unsteadily underneath us. What the hell am I doing? 

I want so much more than a kiss from her, and that’s why I pull away and slowly unwrap her arms from around me. “We should stop.” I say with a shaky voice. She doesn’t protest, seemingly agreeing with my thoughts. 

I rub the back of my neck. Get a grip Az it was just a kiss. 

“Was that okay?” Elain asks, self-consciously, and the very question is so absurd I nearly laugh. How she can doubt how sexy she is, how she unravels every ounce of my control. With my hand still on my neck I look at her knowing she can see how utterly wrecked I am by her. “Yes, honey, that kiss was more than okay.”

Elain turns away just a fraction and smiles to herself, and then does something so innocent, so honest it tears my cynical, terrified heart in half. She rests the tips of her fingers to her lips and smiles. 

As we pull into the garage later that night I have to ask, “Out of curiosity, what is your favorite flower?”

She drops her gaze to the flower on my hand and smiles. “Roses.”

[beaker1636]

Coming Home - Ricky Angst

AN: Here is the fic I teased you all with this morning! I have never written something like this, where there are multiple snippets of a whole story that weave together. The fic inspiration is one of my all time favorite songs, Coming Home by Cinderella. The Italics are the lyrics in the song as it progresses, I tried to base the scenes right after each set so that it relates to the song... which is also something I have never tried to do before. Hopefully my little experiment came out well and you all enjoy it! I may or may not have made myself cry at one point writing it. A link to the song will be below in case you want to listen to it!

Thank you @tearfallpixie for being my beta reader!

Taglist: @lacktoesandtoddlerants @dragon-chica @darkhallcorner

And now on to the story!

I took a walk down a it’s the road I’m meant to stay

I see the fire in your eyes but a man’s gotta make his way

“You have only been home for a couple fucking weeks, what do you mean you leave next week for tour again,” you say, glaring at your boyfriend who just dropped a huge bombshell on you.

“We’ve been together two years, you know what my life is like,” Rick glares at you, clearly pissed that you are so angry at him about going on another tour.

You are used to him being gone quite a bit, but this year in particular they are touring pretty much nonstop and it is hard to handle.  Usually you get a little time with him between tours before they’re rushing off to the next one but this year he is constantly on the road.  If it isn’t tours they have festivals to fly all over for.  You miss your boyfriend, feeling like you live different lives without each other anymore.  

Are you not important enough for him to fight to get time off with you?

When will you matter as much as his music?

Your head is full of so many doubts lately, and just when you were getting used to him being back home, to getting to spend time with him, he had to drop this bombshell on your shoulders.  

“You can still stand up and say you need a fucking break, that you are needed at home too,” you find yourself raising your  voice, frustration growing the longer you two are arguing about this.  Why can’t he understand how you are feeling?

“It’s my fucking job! All I ever wanted to do is make music and tour, and we are finally popular enough that I can do it. All I am great at is music.  This is how I provide for us, you sure seem to enjoy the benefits that come from the money that I make,” now you are pissed.  You are biting your tongue and trying so hard not to smack the cocky fuckers face.

“You think that all I fucking care about is the money? When have I ever asked you for any, I work my ass off every day of the week at my job.  You know what, fuck you. I am fucking done, I am not going to stay here with a man that things so lowly of me.  Jame was right, you are just a fucking dick, I never should have entered this relationship with someone who thinks this way about me,” You storm off, stomping your way upstairs to the bedroom, quickly closing and locking the door before he can follow you inside.  

You hear him hit the door with a groan. “Wait, y/n, I didn’t mean that.  I was just pissed and…” 

He gives up, taking a seat against the wall in the hallway outside the door praying that you will open the door, listen to what he has to say.  He realizes that isn’t going to happen when he hears your sobs through the wood door, his heart breaking on the spot.  Realizing that he had fucked up.

When you eventually step out of the room about a half hour later with a bag he glances up at you.  He doesn’t miss the tears in your eyes, that there are trails on your cheeks where they have fallen.  His own stray tears start to fall as he looks up at you.

“I- I need space to think through some shit,” you say softly, avoiding his eyes as you walk down the stairs.  

Rick lets you leave without a fight, knowing that if he dares follow you right now that he will just make things worse.  All he can do is hope the space does you good and you don’t wind up making a decision that will kill both of you inside.

So are you tough enough for my love?

Just close your eyes to the heaven above

I’m Coming Home

I’m Coming Home

Rick gives you space, just like you have asked for, despite the fact that you not being home is killing him inside.  He keeps looking at the ring he bought you, tears staining his cheeks when he realizes that tonight was the night he was going to ask and now he can't.  He thought he finally found the person that he was meant to spend his life with…. And he let you walk away like you meant nothing to him.

He honestly can’t blame you if you don’t come back to him.  How he treated you during your fight, how he has ignored how you are feeling, how selfish he has been, well, he deserves to lose you.

When you come home two days later you can’t believe how he looks, you feel like you mean nothing to him so why does he look so heartbroken that you are gone? When you step in the house he stands in the doorway looking at you.

He takes one look at you, noticing the dark circles under your eyes, how bloodshot they are from your tears, seeing how miserable you are makes the last part of his heart shatter in his chest.  He has never meant to hurt you, he has taken the fact that you are always home waiting for him for granted.

Both of you stand there and watch each other, trying to gain the strength and confidence to speak up.  Wanting nothing more than to pull each other close in a hug and apologize for the fight but not knowing if that would be the best choice without speaking things out first. 

“Baby, I’m sorry, so sorry.  I never meant for you to ever feel unwanted, unneeded, unloved by me. I- I think I finally get it. Having to stay here waiting at home for you the last two days has been hell, some of the hardest days I have had to face,” he says, stepping closer to where you stand in the entryway.

“And I wait here for you for weeks at a time, lately for months… I come home nightly to an empty house.  I have always dealt with it because I love you but it fucking sucks Rick.  And then when you get home you are busy editing videos, working on your new novel, or whatever your latest project is so I feel like the rare times you are home lately I still don’t have you.  But the hardest part is that no matter what I do I can’t make you stay.  I get it is your job, but I can’t promise that if your touring schedule stays as busy as it has this year that I can handle it for much longer.” You don’t realize you have started crying again until he moves in front of you, brushing your tears from your cheeks with his calloused fingers.

“I talked to management and Chris, I requested that we will get more time off after this tour is over at the end of October.  We are going to take the rest of the year off baby, I’ll be home for a couple months this time,” he says, gently pulling you into a hug hoping that you won’t pull away.

“Thank you, that is all that I ask is that you try.  Can I come home please Ricky?” you mumble into his neck, where your face is currently buried.

“You never have to ask me to come home y/n.  It isn’t home without you here,” he says softly.  

He lightly places a hand on your chin, making you look up at him.  When you do he places the softest kiss he has ever given you on your lips, both of you pouring all the love you have into the kiss as both of your tears mix on your cheeks.

I took a ride in the world I’ll be spinning for the rest of my life

I feel your heartbeat baby ooh sometimes it cuts like a knife

“I don’t want to go to sleep and lose a single second with you before you have to leave in the morning,” you say softly, playing with Ricky’s soft hair where it lays on your bare chest.

The two of you curled up, still not dressed, basking in the glow of your last opportunity to be intimate with each other before he leaves. Neither one of you wants to move in fear of the moment ending, dread over not getting to be together for almost two months.

“I don’t want to either, I love touring but this time something about leaving feels different,” he says, his fingers gently sliding over your soft skin.  Taking in every touch, kiss, and view that he can before he leaves.

“Do you ever wonder if our love for eachother is going to last? I worry all the time when you are gone that we are going to grow apart, or that you will find someone new, better than me,” you admit for the first time in your relationship with him.

“Sometimes I worry that you will want someone that can be home every night with you, because I can’t give you the time and attention you deserve,” he also admits, glancing at you.

The two of you haven’t usually been ones to be very vulnerable with each other, yeah you talk things out but never have you admitted your insecurities in your relationship. You both almost feel closer now getting those statements out into the open.

“That’s the problem Ricky, I don’t want just anyone home with me every night, I want it to be you.  I love you so much and can’t picture that with anyone else,” you feel the tears in your eyes starting to build up, threatening to fall.

“And I love you too baby, we have to trust in each other and believe in our love for one another to get through these times, not everything is going to be perfect.”

The two of you sit there silently for a few minutes, pondering over Rick’s words as you get closer to having to accept he is leaving again.  Both of you not ready to accept the fact that he has to.

He finally breaks the silence,” I hate to say it but I am getting picked up really early so we should probably go to sleep baby.”

You hesitantly agree, giving him one last passionate kiss before shifting so that you can turn the lamp off, curling up to Rick so that you two are as close as you can comfortably be.

“You better wake me up before you leave so I can say goodbye,” you whisper into his ear, trying to hold back your tears again.

“Of course baby.”

That night he lays with you, not getting much sleep because he is busy listening to your breathing, your heart beating, and admiring how peaceful you look when you are asleep.  Like nothing is bothering you.  He wants to take all these moments in before he isn’t able to have them for a while.  These moments make him not want to leave for tour, make him sometimes wonder if it is all worth it when he has to leave his family and life behind.

So are you tough enough for my love?

Close your eyes to the heaven above

I’m coming home

I’m coming home

You accept the facetime request from Rick the second your phone rings, not wanting to waste a precious second of your time together, it being so hard to find time that you can do this while he is on tour.

You are greeted with his smile, instantly relaxing you at your work desk… that’s right, the only time today that the two of you could make it work was if he video called you during your lunch break at work.  It absolutely sucks, but you will take what you can get and if that means you skip eating lunch for the day then so be it.  Just don’t tell Rick that, he will be upset with you if he knows you aren’t eating.

“Only 2 more weeks left baby, not much longer,” he says right away, his smile growing when he sees you on the screen.

“2 more weeks,” you sigh, leaning back in your chair.

“I know that seems like a long time but it really isn’t baby, we are getting so close.  I can’t wait to see you, this tour has been a lot harder on me.  I don’t know if it is because we didn’t really get much rest between the last one and now but it is a lot.  I just can’t wait to be home,” he exhales.  

Since he left the two of you have been trying to do better with your communication skills, trying to make sure to let the other know how you feel to avoid big fights like the one you had before he left.   But also because you don’t want to hold your emotions in, you are allowed to be sad, to miss him, and so is he.  You may not be around eachother but you still want to feel close to each other and that is a good way to do it.

“I took a week of vacation time for when you get home, that way I can spend the entire time with you.  I know you like to rest but we can be lazy together,” you tell him, hoping he will be happy and not think you are too clingy.

“I love that idea, we can shut our phones off and just hide in the house for the week.  I look forward to it,” he says, his smile growing when you tell him that.  Unable to hide that he is really happy you chose to do that to spend time with him.

The two of you continue to talk until you only have about 5 minutes left of your lunch break, you go silent, not wanting to say goodbye.

“Hey, it’ll be okay baby.  We will see eachother soon, don’t cry.  I will be home to you before you know it.   I love you, have a good rest of your day,” he says gently, trying to pretend that he doesn’t notice your tears.

“I love you too Ricky, be safe for me.”

You can’t help the tears that fall after you hang up, that hour wasn’t enough time to get to see him and who knows when you will get to see him next.  These moments are few and far between during tour, and while you text daily that isn’t the same as seeing him.  Your boss notices and gives you a few extra minutes of your break so that you can compose yourself before you get back to work.

A couple hours later you have flowers delivered to you at your desk, the card reading “Don’t cry for me, I will be home before you know it.”

I’m coming home where your love tonight can shine on me

I’m coming home where your loving arms can set me free

“We are on our way home now baby, a few more hours and I will get to see you! I can’t wait to get home!” Rick texts you, wanting you to know that they are almost back and he will see you soon,

“I am so excited, am I still picking you up at Chris’?” You respond back, still wondering why he is having you pick him up there but not asking questions.  There is surely a reason behind it, and you know that even if you ask your stubborn boyfriend won’t tell you.

“Please? I will see you at 6, love you baby!”

Unknown to you Rick is currently setting up a surprise.  He has decided to finally, hopefully, give you the ring he has been holding for about 6 months.  Chris came up with the idea of them setting up a dinner for all your close friends and family for the night they all get home, that way you can all be together when he asks you.

Which is why he is currently lying to you, they are already back in town, but they are all at Chris’ getting all the tables ready before the caterers arrive.  Decorating the place before everyone shows up so that it can be something special for you.  Wanting nothing more than to give you the proposal that you deserve.

He knows you hate surprises so he hopes that you won’t hate the proposal that he has planned.  You may hate surprises but he also knows that you miss your family and you are extremely close to them, you only moved away from them to be with him. So having them fly out so that they can be here for you will mean a lot.  His family also flew out to be here for the two of you.  Everyone you love is here to celebrate with you, when you hopefully say yes.

He looks over at the work that the boys are helping him do, pleasantly shocked that they are somehow staying on task and doing exactly what he wanted them to do.  Normally he has to fight the idiots to get things right.  

He greets your family and his own as they show up, bringing them to the big backyard where the tables are all set up.   The lighting sets the mood, everyone gathering in one place before you show up.  

The second that they see your car come down the street he gets everyone gathered in one spot, hoping you notice the sign saying to go back out and hoping for the best, praying that things work out.  Now hearing your car door he is panicking, will you hate that there are so many people around? Will you love that all of your family who you haven’t seen in almost a year are here?  Will you say no? He doesn’t have time to think before he is on his knee, waiting for you to walk around the side of the house.

Shit, there you are.  Now he has nowhere to hide, he can’t change his mind. This is it.

“Surprise!” 

I took a walk down the a road it's the road I’m meant to stay

I see the fire in your eyes but a man’s gotta make his way

Are you tough enough for my love?

Close your eyes to the heaven above

I’m coming home

I’m coming home

“Rick, what are you,” you freeze, unable to finish your words when you see him take a knee in front of the crowd of your friends and family.  The tears almost instant when you realize what he is going to ask.

“y/n, I have had a lot of time to think, especially after our last fight.  Things have been up and down, we have fought, we have made up, I have been gone a lot.  But the one thing that has never changed is my love for you.  You have been there with me every step of the way, even when I haven’t deserved it.  Your blind faith in me has helped push me to do some of the greatest things I have accomplished in my life these last 2 years.  You’re home, it doesn’t matter where we are as long as we are together.  I told you earlier I’m coming home, and now here I am.  Will you marry me?” He asks you, a couple times his voice cracking from the pure emotions that are running through him at this moment.

You try to speak, but can’t bring yourself to do so as your tears begin to fall down your cheeks.  Instead you nod your head before running to him, letting him pull you into the sweetest hug of your life as he spun you around, giggling at the action.

When he lets you go he moves to slip the ring on your finger, giving you a moment to look at it before he pulls you in for a kiss.  Both of you forget that everyone is around you for a moment until you hear all the cheers.

It was then that you noticed that your family was standing behind the two of you, making you cry all over again as everyone started pulling you into hugs, congratulating the two of you before dinner was served and you all got a chance to eat, celebrate and catch up.

You couldn’t ask for a better return home, you get your fiance back, your family is here and so is his.  Everything feels right for the first time in months, and to make matters better he is going to be home with you for a while. 

Now if you can just convince him when you get home to let you put the Christmas tree up now that it is November first… but that argument can wait until the morning. 

[scrapsovereign]

Fic idea: Isekai BG3 AU where Ascended Astarion and Gale try to kidnap Tav in an interesting setting to bring her back…but were off by about 100 years.

If you liked country, maybe you could write a song about the week you’ve had.

Starting Sunday, you cried all the way home from the vet and all night after you put down your very sick 21 year old cat, went in Monday to find you’ve been let go from your job at the Box of Human Suffering, and came back to your apartment early to find your partner in bed with their coworker.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

You make it to your bestie’s place and crashed in their spare room- you’re still invited to Ren Faire if you want to go. It’ll be fun! You can stress shop, get trashed, be hungover in the hot, hot sun…

Feeling like shit outdoors in the beautiful cottage core fever dream that is the PNW summer is better than feeling like shit at your apartment around your now ex-boyfriend. Besides, there’s no cell phone signal at site so you can avoid the inevitable garbage fire that is the social media fallout.

The night before you make your way to Ren Faire you can’t sleep. Stupid global warming. The open window in your friends’ guest bedroom helps to cool off the room some but it’s still pretty warm. Eventually, you fall asleep…with your phone on your face.

A slender, pale hand picks it up, puts it aside on the table next to you, and smooths back your hair. That feels really nice. You hum out in bliss, a peaceful smile on your lips.

“Soon, we shall be reunited at long last, my treasure.”

That voice. You’ve heard it before in dreams just like this one.

What happens next is something that you’re sure there’s a million Labyrinth fanfics about. Damn, that’s a spicy dream- you had to fake it with your ex but this guy? You have 3 orgasms! In an hour! That’s more than you had in your whole 2 year relationship that just ended!

The next morning, you make it to the event with your friends and are setting up when you hear the couple in the site next to you bickering. You poke your head around to look at the corner to see an Astarion and a Gale cosplayer arguing with each other. They’re so in character it hurts. “Astarion” looks like he’s about to stab “Gale” with a tent pole before you intervene and offer your help.

Turns out they’ve never been to one of these things before! You laugh darkly at the situation of your new thirst trap friends. Two hot guys with British accents at REN FAIRE of all places is like dumping a bucket of blood in shark-infested waters.

And YOU get to be their guide.

You learn a little more about them, but it doesn’t add up. “Greg” teaches computer science but doesn’t say where and looks at you weird when you crack a joke about the internet being a series of tubes. “Ryan” says he’s a lawyer who works in downtown Seattle but won’t tell you what flavor of lawyer he is and he’s never heard of Jeff Bezos’ Balls.

Huh.

Ryan is super excited to learn about and partake of all the drunken debauchery that happens after dark, so you drag your new friends to all the different camps and make sure they know some of the rules before you let them loose.

You knock back some blue pixie stick and cackle at Ryan when he does a spit-take from the sweetness of the drink. Greg (who ignored your warning about not eating more than one atomic cherry because he wanted to show off how well he could tie a knot with the stem) gets into a very spirited debate with your DnD buddies on the nature of “The Weave”. While he’s distracted, Ryan drags you away from site, away from the event, far beyond the parking lot.

He looks down at you with adoring eyes, your hands held delicately in his, his silver hair positively glowing in the moonlight. He begins to lean down toward you- oh shit, is he going to kiss you?!

“Uhhh…I’m fresh out of a breakup, this probably isn’t a great idea if you’re looking for something that isn’t casual- and I don’t want to come between whatever’s going on with you and Greg.”

He barks out a laugh. A wicked smile spreads across his face, displaying that really great pair of fake teeth. You make a mental note to ask him later where on Etsy he got them from.

“It’s time to go home, Octavia. You can abandon this little charade of yours.”

You stare up at him blankly, feeling uneasy all of a sudden.

Why is he calling you by your middle name? That you never gave to him? Which is also your grandmother’s first name? Your grandmother, (who you bear an uncanny resemblance to), who died more than a decade ago?

You ask him as such. His lips curl in to a snarl, his hands tighten painfully around yours.

“Don’t be stupid, pet. Do you know what we’ve had to go through to find you?! The bloody traffic from that awful place called ‘Renton’ was worse than the ordeal it took to infiltrate the Acquisitions Incorporated Office in Waterdeep. You’ve had your fun, but you’re coming back with us. Tonight.”

Waterdeep, as in Waterdeep in the DnD? What the LARP is he talking about?

You try to tell him that he doesn’t need to be in character, that this isn’t that kind of event when you don’t feel good all of a sudden.

The night swirls around you, wrapping you in a blanket of inky darkness.

You awaken from your dreamless slumber, noticing the softness of real silk sheets beneath you.

Slender fingers lovingly card through your hair. You’re held tenderly in strong arms. You can’t remember the last time you’ve felt so relaxed and comfortable.

Your stomach drops as a familiar voice lilts out above you.

“Welcome home, my darling consort…”

[chronothread]

Zip

Nearly there.

You’re out of breath. But you’re nearly there. Damn crew botched that job - carriage robberies are baby’s first steps. Fucking jumpy greenhorns…you should probably make a mental note not to give the newbies guns. Then again? Not your crew, not your fault. Yeah…that’s right. You’re clever, and you’re fucking sensible. This wasn’t on you.

Lucky you’re so smart too - making off with the chest while those idiots were killing each other. No one saw you either…yeah, no one saw you! You can catch a ship over at Vesper Bay, find a buyer, and be set for life. Right, just like you planned. Use them to distract all the guards and make off with the treasure alone, no splits. Couldn’t have planned it better - maybe you should get another crew! And some more greenhorns to uh…mentor. Hehe…

Then you hear it. A loud bang - a boom even. Like a cannon. That’s not good, were they fighting at Vesper Bay? Who fires on a port like that? And…why was it from the opposite direction of the port? And why was there a sharp hissing

Thwack.

An arrow lands at your feet. An obscenely large one at that. And it was…glowing? Uh oh, that probably means you should-

Kabwoom!

——————————————————————————————————

A red-haired elezen with a tricorne stands atop one of Thanalan’s many hills, enjoying the desert wind and the smell of fresh - if not sandy - air. She takes a deep breath, before sighing in satisfaction, smiling to herself at what a beautiful day this was. With a muscular, tattooed arm, she removes her hat, tossing it on the little grass that had decided to grow atop the dirt. She picks up a metal tumbler labeled “Ishgard’s #1 Archer” and unscrews the lid, taking a sip of her very refreshing iced coffee. 

She squints as she sees something - someone running, and sorely in need of a breath. She cants her head, curious as to what the figure was doing as they decided to take a very quick break, leaning against a rock.

It was at this point that her linkpearl went off.

“Hell~o you’re hailing Salem’s Sexy Services, you’re speaking to Salem. How can I fuck up your day?”

“Hm? Oh Shizuka, hey! Yeah I’m in the area, taking a nice day off from an~y sort of work though, so if you need something done - sorry this is a scheduling session only.”

“Did I see…oh yeah, just saw em actually. They’re catching their breath by the road right now, think they’re headed to Vesper Bay? Oh no shit, stole something from a convoy? That’s fucking whack. Anyway, not my pro-okay hey look, I said today’s my day off right? That means no work! Look, you want me to do anything, you pay triple like everyone else has to. I can’t make exceptions Snow, it’s bad business! Oh, looks like they’re moving again. A hundred yalms, hundred ten, hundred twenty…you know I’ve only got limited range right? By the time they get to two hundred it’s out of my-oi are you…”

“...argh, okay okay! Jeez I can see the puppy dog eyes burned into my brain from here. Okay okay, it’s important to you. I’ll take care of it yeah? So don’t…don’t cry, it’s for the kids I get it, I’m taking it seriously. Okay bye, you need to let me focus, one second."

The woman named Salem pinches the bridge of her nose before taking the obscenely large eastern styled bow she had lovingly left on a mat on the ground, before nocking an arrow. She takes aim…hundred and eighty, hundred and nighty, two hundred yalms…

The tips of her fingers ignite as she pulls back the drawstring, grinning as she points the arrow ahead of her target. Two hundred was a lie, a negotiating tactic. Two hundred was basic. Baby’s first steps.

Salem looses the arrow, an explosion helping propel the arrow from her drawstring, before she sets her bow down, not even bothering to check her mark. She takes a long sip from her tumbler, before calling Shizuka back.

“Hey Snow? Taken care of. No, no I didn’t kill them - jeez you’re always so fussy about that. Anyway, just follow the road, you’ll find em. And uh…maybe bring some burn ointment. I might have singed the poor bastard."

[clocks-are-round]

WHAT THE FUCK. After finding that last snippet I did more digging in my google docs. what the fuckk hahaha

it’s titled “april fools” from March 2022, so like exactly two years ago. i have cued it for the next April 1st

some things are best left unpublished but frankly i don’t like to take that much psychic damage and NOT inflict it on the next idly curious RvB fan.

i remember now, i was going to write a fic with the most bastardized fandomy takes on each character possible but i legitimately can’t tell if that psa was a real attempt at that or if i physically could not bring myself to (likely) and went for the easier to deal with ‘react to fandom’ instead

Prepare for lots of Donut innuendos

(it’s not actually that bad, i very much did back out of the initial concept immediately, it just caught me really off guard haha)

——

I’m going t o fucking c r y. this was pain to write. (first thing i wrote. haven’t even written the fic yet)

fandom cringe versions plZ i hate it

Simmons: ;w; anxiety boi

Grif: uwu sleepy boi

Caboose: owo can do no wrong boi

Donut: owo can do no wrong femboi

i don’t know if i can do this. holy shit. i know it’s for april fools but if it causes pain to write aren’t i the fool?

ImPorTaNt RvB PSA

Simmons: Hi everyone, I’m Dick Simmons from popular webseries Red vs Blue.

Grif: And I’m Dexter Grif from the same show.

Caboose: And I am Caboose

Simmons: … Hi Caboose.

Caboose: What are we talking about today?

Caboose: And now, the weather! Spoiler, it is rain.

Simmons: Uh… No idea how to segue that back. So, we’re supposed to read these fan stories. This first one is about me and Grif it looks like, and– Wait, wait what??

Grif: What? What is it, let me see. *starts laughing hysterically*

Simmons: *flustered* What is this mushy gushy romance stuff? I’d just– I’d just like to set the record straight that if I did hypothetically have feelings for a person that I knew I totally wouldn’t do that. I mean, pine for somebody? For a decade? That’s some bullshit, any self-respecting person would move on in that amount of time–

Lopez: [Honestly, you two are not subtle. Even I’ve noticed and I try my hardest to ignore you all.]

Grif: You would! You would act like that around a crush! Holy shit, they nailed you, Simmons!

Donut: Did someone say Donut?

Donut: Wait a minute! Fanfiction?? Those are my people! Let me host this one please please please? I’ll be the hostess with the mostest! I’ll put my Donut whole into it!

Simmons: Yeah, I need to go bleach my eyes, so be my guest.

Grif: And I just wanted to watch Simmons die as he read all this. It’s no fun if it’s you, Donut.

Donut: Well, I’m excited. I can’t wait to read how deep they’ve penetrated into you and Simmons’ relationship! Looks like you two are in a lot of these.

Simmons: Lalala I can’t hear you. I can’t hear anything and therefore do not need to respond to any awkward topics.

Donut: Ooh, they’re all romantic.

Grif: Oh god, yeah, let’s go.

Doc: Could I be co-host? I haven’t helped host one of these in forever!

Donut: I thought you didn’t like this kind of thing?

Doc: Well, we’re keeping it PG, I’ll be just fine.

Donut: Ehhhh

Doc: Donut. We’re keeping it PG, right? *O’Malley* I hope not. I’d like to see some carnage. Shut up, you fool. It’s fiction. *Doc* I didn’t say anything. *O’Malley* You were about to chastise me.

Donut: Depends… does PG stand for pornogr–

Doc: Donut! *O’Malley* Or pussy grande. *Doc* O’Malley! There’s way more out there than just smut! Even in the romance genre there are comedies, introspective pieces, adventure, slice-of-life, drama…

Donut: Well, yeah, but I figured we could do a little of everything.

Lopez: [Jesus christ, just choose one. I’m going to burn this anyways.]

Donut: Good idea, Lopez! Burn it to discs! We can send them out as audiobooks!

Lopez: [I meant in a fire.]

Donut: Yeah, it is a fire idea, Lopez. Jeez, now you’re just fishing for compliments. *clears throat*

Doc: We’re doing a “safe for work” one, right? *O’Malley mutters* You are a wet, wretched blanket. I hope you know that.

Donut: Yeah, yeah. Jeez. Now I have to clear my throat dramatically again! *clears throat*

——

you know what? fuck it. this is about in line with my other fake psas maybe i’ll complete it and post it on ao3. eventually. on an april 1st, naturally lol

[likesunsetorange]

how do you go about plotting your stories? :P

i always say that i’m a bit of a chaotic planner! i mention it a lot, but i have severely bad adhd, so things with me are a bit of organized chaos (except with the zine, i run that shit like the fucking marines man).

so basically since it starts off chaotic, i tend to kind of brain dump all my ideas into my doc (i use notion for planning), so like all the potential plot points scene ideas i may want, and then i tend to order them in a way that makes sense chronologically!

for one shots, i’ll be a bit more detailed bc i don’t do a lot of extra planning outside of my outline since it’s ONLY the one shot, but sometimes it’s even as simple as this! (from the wedding planner x baker au)

it’s not very eloquently written bc it’s just for me, so i don’t waste time making sure it’s in full sentences lol, it’s like me talking to myself! so i just write a bit chaotic lol but it’s what i find works for me, and im able to fill in the gaps! and here’s another example LOL (a spoiler sorta from the cowboy x model au!) like i said, they’re severely unserious, but it’s what works for me!! but this is how i do my one shot ones, just bc i outline them in their entirety and im not writing full length sentences i don’t have fucking time for that with my minimal attention span having ass 😭

BUT! for the e2l au and the bodyguard au!! i definitely did a lot more planning which is why it’s taken me so much longer to put them out 😭 with dol, which i’ve emphasized MANY times, i wrote it for shits and giggles and so i was like oh! like i should’ve been a bit more organized, which for the most part i’ve done PRETTY well, considering i wasn’t initially but i definitely wanted to be more prepared with these two!!

so for both of the fics, i have them set up like this! there’s three little sections and i can kinda explain how i organized each one!

outline: that’s the overall fic outline, i basically started it how i mentioned above, i brain dumped all my ideas and then made it into a mostly cohesive chronological order! for multi chapter fics tho i get rlly overwhelmed tho if i super intensely outline bc sometimes i change my mind, so i have a MOSTLY SOLID idea of the overall plot give or take some minor decisions (which is why the whole first kiss thing in the bodyguard au i said i wasn’t 100% sure on yet bc i could still change my mind lol). so i outline chapter by chapter going based off the overall big outline, and choosing from the scenes i wanted to do, and maybe any ideas y’all suggest too! so like some things ARE subject to change, but like for sure most things (like in dol the whole fire thing) i ALWAYS know would happen

details: for both fics, to make sure i kept the characterizations consistent, i wrote down everything about eren and mikasa and their character goals and traits for both au’s! and then specifically for the e2l au, i wrote out their feelings and thoughts about the breakup and how they both thought about one another as to make sure i kept those consistent!!! when writing mc fics it’s really easy to kind of stray away from characterization (at least for me bc i write a bunch of stuff at once) so i wanted to make sure i had something to refer to if i ever needed to!!

extras: bc i realized i enjoyed having quotes/chapter titles, i basically pre chose all of those just to save myself some time later on bc im indecisive as fuck lol so if was to help future me

basically i think everyone has a super different process!! i love hearing about all my writer moots writing processes bc we’re all really different! some of my moots have very detailed processes which i admire, bc im not like that at all, but i’ve found this works for me and the way my brain works! it’s a mix of organization but not in a way that stresses me out or overwhelms me!

but also sometimes like the cabin fic i’ll just say to hell with it write a fic on a whim and not plan for shit except knowing i wanna write those five individual scenes so im nothing if not a mess also, but yea sorry for talking your ear off, i always say being concise is not something i can ever do LOL i hope this answers your question tho!! 😭

and i provided some snippets for you bodyguard au and e2l au readers too!!