#. ⸻ ¹⁶ 「interaction.」 ⊣⊢ the instant white-hot wild.

[revcnqe]

「 Unprompted declaration of love」 for @heartofglass-mindofstone

"You‘re the biggest cunt I know." — Ana Evans spilling facts to Billy's face in January 2025. (I love this girl!!) "I gotta make sure you stick with me, aye?" Being a cunt is a love language for sure.

[revcnqe]

"Well, and who helped you with getting rid of said people who fucked you over? Just in case you forgot. It would've been a good deal if we both sticked to it but I'm not even here to bring this up again. How about you calm down for now?"

"'Old mate'? Since when the fuck were we ever friends? But you know what? I hold every kind of grudge known to man when it comes to people who fuck me over."

[thelustybraavosimaid]

What's interesting about Jon and Arya's relationship isn't just they are each other's favourite sibling - they are one another's favourite person. This is why Jon thinks of her with just about everyone, has a specific type that she is a reference to (as was confirmed by George):

It's a reference to a certain physical type, and a certain indication of what Jon finds admirable.

Jon, also, misses her more than Robb, his best friend and constant companion:

He missed his true brothers: little Rickon, bright eyes shining as he begged for a sweet; Robb, his rival and best friend and constant companion; Bran, stubborn and curious, always wanting to follow and join in whatever Jon and Robb were doing. He missed the girls too, even Sansa, who never called him anything but "my half brother" since she was old enough to understand what bastard meant. And Arya…he missed her even more than Robb, skinny little thing that she was, all scraped knees and tangled hair and torn clothes, so fierce and willful. Arya never seemed to fit, no more than he had…yet she could always make Jon smile. He would give anything to be with her now, to muss up her hair once more and watch her make a face, to hear her finish a sentence with him. (Jon III, AGoT)

It hits me how Jon's thoughts about Arya alone take up half of the passage!

Jon, on the way to Castle Black:

The memory of her laughter warmed him on the long ride north. (Jon II, AGoT)

Arya does the same thing, being reminded of Jon in other people:

"NO!" Arya and Gendry both said, at the exact same instant. Hot Pie quailed a little. Arya gave Gendry a sideways look. He said it with me, like Jon used to do, back in Winterfell. She missed Jon Snow the most of all her brothers. (Arya I, ASoS)

And with the Ghost of High Heart:

Ned, Gendry, and many of the others were fast asleep when Arya spied the small pale shape creeping behind the horses, thin white hair flying wild as she leaned upon a gnarled cane. The woman could not have been more than three feet tall. The firelight made her eyes gleam as red as the eyes of Jon's wolf. He was a ghost too. Arya stole closer, and knelt to watch. (Arya VIII, ASoS)

Despite not interacting since the very beginning of AGoT, the two of them have interconnected narratives, to boot. Arya interacting with Yoren, being dressed up as a boy to join the Night's Watch, her desperation to get to Jon and desire to go to the Wall to be with him is mentioned repeatedly throughout the whole of the series.

This is just one example:

But that was stupid. Her home was gone, her parents dead, and all her brothers slain but Jon Snow on the Wall. That was where she had wanted to go. She told the captain as much, but even the iron coin did not sway him. Arya never seemed to find the places she set out to reach. (Arya I, AFfC)

Despite Arya being a continent away from Jon, George still has her interact with members of the Night's Watch (with Dareon, and defending Sam). And for Jon, George has him settling on a loan with Tycho Nestoris of the Iron Bank, which is connected to the Faceless Men. Arya already has a hand in the Iron Bank's politics - in the form of her ruining their negotiations with the Lannisters in the Mercy chapter.

She is so steadfast in Jon's love for her that she thinks:

"I know where we could go," Arya said. She still had one brother left. Jon will want me, even if no one else does. He'll call me "little sister" and muss my hair. It was a long way, though, and she didn't think she could get there by herself. She hadn't even been able to reach Riverrun. "We could go to the Wall." (Arya XII, ASoS)

He is among those she imagines walking alongside her to quell her fear:

Alone, she slid through the shadow of the Tower of Ghosts. She walked fast, to keep ahead of her fear, and it felt as though Syrio Forel walked beside her, and Yoren, and Jaqen H'ghar, and Jon Snow. (Arya X, ACoK)

How far are you willing to go to prove your love?

They both have relatively shaky vows to their respective institutions because of one another. Arya stows away Needle, a representation of her family but also specifically referred to as Jon Snow's smile in the HoBaW. She will give up every other thing but that. And because of this anchor - which includes Nymeria and her wolf dreams, but especially Needle and, by association, Jon - is what prevents her from becoming No One completely.

The marriage letter Ramsay sends to Jon is what well and truly tests Jon's vows - and it's what caused the intense anguish that culminates in his death in ADwD.

Jon loves her so dearly that she is his heart:

"The heart is all that matters. Do not despair, Lord Snow. Despair is a weapon of the enemy, whose name may not be spoken. Your sister is not lost to you."

"I have no sister." The words were knives. What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister?

Melisandre seemed amused. "What is her name, this little sister that you do not have?"

"Arya." His voice was hoarse. "My half-sister, truly..." (Jon VI, ADwD)

And that Winterfell, where she supposedly "is," is not her home, her true home is with him:

Bring her home, Mance. I saved your son from Melisandre, and now I am about to save four thousand of your free folk. You owe me this one little girl. (Jon XI, ADwD)

Arya feels a huge amount of shame when Needle is taken from her:

They talked over her as she lay hurting, but Arya could not seem to understand the words. Her ears rang. When she tried to crawl off, the earth moved beneath her. They took Needle. The shame of that hurt worse than the pain, and the pain hurt a lot. Jon had given her that sword. Syrio had taught her to use it. (Arya V, ACoK)

And she gets particularly upset when accused of having stolen Needle:

"I did not!" she shouted. Jon Snow had given her Needle. Maybe she had to let them call her Lumpyhead, but she wasn't going to let them call Jon a thief. (Arya I, ACoK)

Call me whatever you want, just don't call Jon a thief.

There is a bit of irony in this, since Jon is accused by Ramsay in ADwD of sending Mance south in order to steal Arya.

Your false king's friends are dead. Their heads upon the walls of Winterfell. Come see them, bastard. Your false king lied, and so did you. You told the world you burned the King-Beyond-the-Wall. Instead you sent him to Winterfell to steal my bride from me. (Jon XIII, ADwD)

She has a very deep-rooted sense of justice and loyalty, but she wouldn't even tell her own father - who she loved enough to bypass snakes and lizard-lions and pools of quicksand to retrieve some flowers for, mind you - who gifted her the sword.

Lord Eddard Stark sighed. "My nine-year-old daughter is being armed from my own forge, and I know nothing of it. The Hand of the King is expected to rule the Seven Kingdoms, yet it seems I cannot even rule my own household. How is it that you come to own a sword, Arya? Where did you get this?"

Arya chewed her lip and said nothing. She would not betray Jon, not even to their father. (Arya II, AGoT)

George is heavy-handed in the way he includes how much they miss + love each other, and what they mean for - and to - one another. George wrote them as inseparable, as true soulmates, as people who would break any vows to be with one another again, and that's the most beautiful aspect of the series there is.

Home is a person to Jon and Arya and it's one another. They are each other's safe havens and hearts and homes.

He would give anything to be with her now, to muss up her hair once more and watch her make a face, to hear her finish a sentence with him.

And he did. He gave his life. And the very first lesson he gave to her was the one that he thought of.

Jon fell to his knees. He found the dagger's hilt and wrenched it free. In the cold night air the wound was smoking. "Ghost," he whispered. Pain washed over him. Stick them with the pointy end. When the third dagger took him between the shoulder blades, he gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the fourth knife. Only the cold… (Jon XIII, ADwD)

That makes me think of this:

He is a man of the Night's Watch, she thought, as he sang about some stupid lady throwing herself off some stupid tower because her stupid prince was dead. The lady should go kill the ones who killed her prince. (Cat of the Canals, AFfC)

Because of the proximity of the Wall to Braavos, Arya does hear about him:

But they were all dead now, even Arya, everyone but her half-brother, Jon. Some nights she heard talk of him, in the taverns and brothels of the Ragman's Harbor. The Black Bastard of the Wall, one man had called him. Even Jon would never know Blind Beth, I bet. That made her sad. (The Blind Girl, ADwD)

Undoubtedly she will hear of his death. And she will break her vows to go to him. And she'll finally go to the place she had struggled to reach before.

[translations-by-aiimee]

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 32

Original Title:  二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 32 - This Venerable One is Coaxing You, It's Alright

Through the heavy lotus leaves, Mo Ran reacted like he had been struck by lightning. He was frozen in shock, all the conflicting feelings in his heart going wild, his expression unable to hide his emotions.

Shock, anger, bitter jealousy, irritation; all burst in him like fireworks. He moved his lips but was so angry, he couldn't even get a word out. He didn't even know what he was angry about. There was only one thought going through his head --

This Venerable One has slept with this guy. You think you're worthy enough to touch him?

Chu Wanning, you arrogant, egotistical, lewd slut! You, I can't believe you . . .

He didn't react at all. In this life, Chu Wanning didn't have the slightest passion or desire to engage with him. In an instant, something in his mind snapped.

All in all, it had been more than ten years, a lifetime, from birth until death.

When he was in his right mind, he was able to play it off easily, pretending to be calm.

But under the circumstances, his thoughts were chaotic and the truth was revealed. He still subconsciously believed that Chu Wanning belonged to him. Even now, he realized that he could even remember the taste of Chu Wanning's lips when they kissed . . . not to mention their desire-fueled, lustful interaction and passionate sex.

It was something that he didn't dare think about after he was reborn.

Until he saw Chu Wanning's naked back, saw that familiar figure, - broad shoulders and long legs, tight muscles, thin and powerful waist - immersed in the clear water.

These things that he had deliberately avoided, the lingering feeling he tried to forget, burst through his mind and swept away any resolve.

Mo Ran's mind went blank.

. . . This body made him react.

And it was a strong reaction that couldn't be contained at all. Just looking at it, a fire burned in his belly.

When he came back to his senses, he angrily shouted: "Chu Wanning!"

Chu Wanning actually ignored him.

The two people on either side of him held his shoulders. Steam rose from the lotus pond making it hard to discern the specific identity of the two people. But they are very close together, the distance between them dubiously close.

Mo Ran cursed. He plopped into the lotus pond and waded towards Chu Wanning—when he got closer, he realized —

I-It was actually two mecha men made of metal and redwood!

Even worse, they seemed to be taking advantage of the spiritual energy of the lotus pond water, channelling that energy into Chu Waning. Mo Ran, foolishly jumping into the water, had completely broken the spiritual energy flow . . .

He didn't know what kind of array Chu Wanning was using. He was unconscious, supported by the golden light coming from the metal palms of the two mechs. Those rays kept surging upward and converged on the wound on his shoulder, clearly healing it.

Mo Ran's intrusion caused the golden light to quickly dissipate. What was even more unexpected was that the array actually started to undo!

As the golden light dissipated, Chu Wanning's wounds began to rapidly spread. He frowned, stifling a grunt, and coughed out a mouthful of blood. Immediately, all the scars on his body began to tear open. The blood spilled out like smoke, seeping across the flower pool in an instant.

Mo Ran froze.

This was Chu Wanning's "Flower Spirit Sacrifice Technique"!

He realized that he might . . . be in trouble . . .

Chu Wanning's spiritual flow is a dual system of metal and wood. The metal energy was like "Tianwen", focusing on attack and defence. The redwood energy was used for healing.

Flower Spirit Sacrifice was one of those healing techniques. Chu Wanning could gather the spirits of hundreds of flowers to heal wounds. However, during the process, no other people should enter the array, otherwise, the spirits would scatter. Instead of healing, it would exacerbate the injury. In serious cases, Chu Wanning's spiritual core would most likely be snatched up by the spirits of the flowers.

Fortunately, Mo Ran had dabbled with the Flower Spirit Sacrifice Technique in his previous life and immediately severed the energy flow from the spirits. Chu Wanning, who had lost the support of the array, fell down and was steadily held by Mo Ran.

The unconscious shizun's face was pale, his lips blue, and his body was as cold as ice.

Mo Ran dragged him onto the shore. It was too dark out to see anything else. He half-held, half-dragged Chu Wanning back to his bedroom and lay him on the bed.

"Shizun? Shizun!"

After calling for him several times, there wasn't even the slightest tremble in Chu Wanning's eyelashes. Other than the slight rise in his chest, he looked dead.

Seeing Chu Wanning in this state reminded Mo Ran of his past life.

Inexplicably, his throat constricted and his heart raced.

In the last life, there were two people who died in Mo Ran's arms.

Shi Mei and Chu Wanning.

The two of them, one the love he had endlessly longed for, the other an enemy he had been entangled with all his life.

After Shi Mei was gone, Mo Weiyu ceased to exist in the world.

After Chu Wanning?

Mo Ran didn't know. He only remembered that, on that day, he guarded the person in his arms as he grew cold. He didn't cry, he didn't laugh; joy and sadness became out of reach.

After Chu Wanning was gone, Mo Weiyu no longer knew what the world was.

The lights were bright, illuminating Chu Wanning's exposed upper body.

Yuheng of the Evening Sky typically wore tight clothing. His overlapping collar was folded tight and high, and his waistband was wrapped around his waist three times, proper and simple.

Therefore, no one had seen how injured his body was after two hundred strikes . . .

That day, while he was being punished in the Court of Discipline, Mo Ran saw the beating wounds on Chu Wanning's back with his own eyes. At that time, he only knew that it was bloody and extremely grotesque. But then he saw that Chu Wanning walking around like normal and thought that he probably hadn't been hurt that badly.

Only at this moment did he realize that Chu Wanning's injuries were far more serious than he had imagined.

The five holes left by the Master of Ceremonies Ghost had fully reopened, the deepest of the holes even exposing some bone.

Chu Wanning probably didn't let anyone help reapply the medicine. He did it all by himself. The ointment was unevenly applied, and some places that he couldn't reach were inflamed and ulcerated.

Not to mention the bruises from the cane. They covered his entire back, almost no skin left unmarred. Plus, with the backlash from the array, now Chu Wanning's wounds were all torn open, blood flowing, staining the sheets underneath him.

If he didn’t witness it with his own eyes, Mo Ran wouldn't have believed that the person who insisted on wiping the bridge pillars and opening a huge rain-blocking barrier for the disciples was the person in front of him - this kind of serious injury could be classified as "debilitating".

If Chu Wanning hadn't lost consciousness, Mo Ran really wanted to grab him by the collar and ask him——

Chu Wanning, are you really that prideful?

If you bow your head and give in, who will stop you? Why do you have to be so stubborn? You're an adult. Why don't you know how to take care of yourself and treat yourself better?

Why are you so reluctant to ask others to help treat your wounds?

Why would you rather have two mechs help you with a healing array rather than ask for help?

Chu Wanning, you're delusional!!

Are you that stubborn?

He cursed to himself while he quickly tapped some acupuncture points to stop the bleeding. Then he fetched some hot water and wiped away the bloodstains on Chu Wanning's back . . .

The sharp knife was quenched and cut off the flesh that had completely festered.

For the first time, Chu Wanning groaned in pain, and his body jerking subconsciously. Mo Ran held him down, irritated: "What are you moaning for? Haven't been fucked recently? If you make any more noise, I'll stab you straight in the chest. If you die, it won't hurt anymore! It'll all be over!"

It was only at a time like this that Mo Ran could reveal his violent nature and scream at him like he did in his previous life.

But there were too many places where the wound was white and rotting. He gradually cleaned it while Chu Wanning was muttering and panting.

Even if he was unconscious, he worked hard to suppress his discomfort. He didn't shout or cry out in pain, simply covered in a layer of cold sweat. His body, which had just been wiped clean, was soaked in sweat again.

After working for almost an hour, he had finally applied the medicine and bandaged the wound.

Mo Ran helped Chu Wanning into some clothes and grabbed a thick blanket to cover the fevered shizun. He breathed a sigh of relief. Remembering that Madam Wang mixed medicine was still sealed in the paper bag, he took some boiling water and brewed a bowl of medicine, bringing it to Chu Wanning's bedside.

"Come on, take the medicine."

He picked up the sleeping person with one hand, letting him lean on his shoulder, and spooned the tonic with the other hand. He blew it and tried a sip first.

Mo Ran immediately frowned, his face screwed up: "Damn it, it's that bitter?" But he still let it cool and feed it to Chu Wanning.

Inevitably, after just half a spoonful, Chu Wanning couldn't stand it. He choked and coughed, spitting out the concoction, most of which splashed on Mo Ran's clothes.

Mo Ran: ". . ."

He knew that Chu Wanning didn't like anything bitter. He was almost afraid of it.

But if he was in his normal state of mind, the stubborn Elder Yuheng would definitely push through his disgust, swallowing the medicine in one swig. At most his face might pucker afterwards and he'd secretly eat a piece of candy.

Unfortunately, Chu Wanning was currently unconscious.

Mo Ran couldn't help it. It's not good to lose your temper with someone who's unconscious so you have to be patient and feed him small sips. From time to time, you have to use a handkerchief to wipe the tonic from the corner of his mouth.

This wasn't a difficult chance for Mo Ran. After all, in his previous life, for a while, he regularly had to feed Chu Wanning. At that time, Chu Wanning resisted, and Mo Ran slapped him in the face. Then he'd grab his chin and roughly kiss him, his tongue rushing in, blood flowing . . .

He didn't dare think too deeply about it. The last few spoonfuls Mo Ran fed him were a bit sloppy, almost half of them coughed up by Chu Wanning. Then he put the man to bed, Chu Wanning harshly twisted the covers.

"I'm so kind. Don't kick the blankets off, you'll get a fever. If you're not careful, you'll catch a cold again . . ."

Halfway through his rant, he suddenly lost his temper and kicked the leg of the bed.

"Forget it. What do I care if you catch a cold? I hope you get sicker and sicker and die.""

After speaking, he turned and left.

When he reached the door, he felt a tug in his heart and couldn't ignore it. So he turned back, thought about it, and put out the candle for him. Then he left again.

This time he walked to the edge of Red Lotus Pond. Looking at the increasingly beautiful water lilies that had been dyed with Chu Wanning's blood, the annoyance in his chest only grew.

He was annoyed but still returned to the bedroom.

He stiffly walked around the room like a rusty and ageing mecha before he finally reluctantly stood next to Chu Wanning's bed.

The moonlight peaked in from the half-open bamboo window, the silver glow fanning across Chu Wanning's handsome face.

His lips were pale, and his eyebrows were slightly furrowed.

Mo Ran hesitated and closed the window for him. It was very humid overnight. Sleeping with the windows open at night was always bad for a person. After doing this, Mo Ran inwardly cursed:

Just walked through the door and leave, you damned dog!

So, just as he walked to the door, with a bang, Chu Wanning actually kicked the blanket off.

Mo Ran: ". . ."

How could this person's habit of kicking the covers off the bed be changed?

In order not to be a dog, the sixteen-year-old Emperor TaXian had the backbone to ignore it and walk away.

He was true to his word and would never walk through that door!

A few moments later.

-- The wise and powerful emperor opened the window and tumbled in.

He picked the blanket up off the floor and covered Chu Wanning again. Mo Ran listened to Chu Wanning's soft painful groan. He twitched. Watching him curl up in the corner of the bed, no longer looking even half as fierce as he normally did.

His lips were cursing that he "deserved it", but, out of his compassion, he still started moving.

He sat by Chu Wanning's bedside and stood guard. He wouldn't let him kick the blanket off again.

It was late at night. After an exhausting day, Mo Ran couldn't keep his eyes open. His head slowly nodded down and he fell asleep.

It wasn't a good sleep. Chu Wanning kept tossing and turning. In his sleepy state, Mo Ran seemed to have heard him humming lowly.

Through his drowsiness and restful sleep, Mo Ran could barely distinguish between what was day or night. Somehow it had become natural to lie next to Chu Wanning and hold his twitching and trembling figure. He squinted his sleepy eyes, subconsciously stroking his back. He held the person in his arms and muttered softly in his sleep: "It's alright, it's alright. It doesn't hurt . . . It doesn't hurt . . ."

Mo Ran fell asleep, murmuring, as if he had returned to the Life-Death Peak of his previous life, back to the desolate and empty Wushan Hall.

Since Chu Wanning died, no one had slept beside him.

Even if their intimacy was bred out of hatred, those days after days spent in the cold made him think of nothing but his heartache, like ten thousand ants were devouring his heart.

But when he thought about it again, Chu Wanning couldn't come back.

He lost the last flame in his life.

On this night, Mo Ran embraced Chu Wanning, half-asleep and half-dreaming. One moment it was clear that he was living a new life, and in another, it was like it had been way back then.

He suddenly couldn't bear to open his eyes for fear that he would wake up tomorrow to an empty pillow and cold sheets. He was the only one left in a long life in this uncertain world.

He undoubtedly hated Chu Wanning.

However, when he held this person in his arms, the corners of his eyes grew a little moist.

He was the thirty-two-year-old Emperor TaXian, holding the warmth that he thought he would never find again.

"Wanning, it doesn't hurt anymore . . ."

His mind was hazy. Like before he had been reborn, Mo Ran stroked the hair of the person in his arms, muttering softly, unconsciously blurting out such a tender line.

He was so sleepy that he didn't even realize what he had said or what he had called the other. He spoke the words without any thought. They had just slipped out naturally. Mo Ran's breathing evened out and he plunged into an even deeper sleep.

Early the next morning, Chu Wanning's eyelashes fluttered and he leisurely awoke.

He had a strong cultivation base and the high fever that he had gotten overnight was already gone.

Chu Wanning drowsily opened his eyes, his mind still a bit fuzzy. He was about to get up but suddenly realized that someone was lying in the same bed as him.

. . . Mo-Mo Weiyu???

His shock wasn't something trivial. The colour drained from Chu Wanning's face. He couldn't remember what happened last night. What's worse, his movements had woken up Mo Ran.

The young man yawned. With a smooth and delicate face with a healthy blush that was typical of a sound sleep, he raised his confused eyes. He glanced at Chu Wanning lightly, and languidly said: "Ah . . . let me sleep a while longer . . . Since you're awake, go and cook me a bowl of preserved egg and pork congee . . ."

Chu Wanning: ". . ."

What was all this nonsense? Was he talking in his sleep?

Mo Ran was still out of it. Seeing that Chu Wanning didn't move, nor did he urge others to get up to cook the congee, he lazily smiled. He stretched out his hand and lowered Chu Wanning’s face, giving him a familiar kiss on the lips.

"It's okay, you don't have to get up. I just had a nightmare. In my dream . . . ah . . . nevermind." He sighed and embraced the man who had become completely lifeless and stiff. His chin rubbed against the hair of the person in his arms. He muttered, "Chu Wanning, let me hold you again."

[destielshippingnews]

I read Jensen's interview about Soldier Boy's 'daddy issues' compared to Dean's the other day. I also listened to the Then and Now podcast for 2x01 In My Time of Dying with Jensen and Jeffrey guest-starring. I have thoughts.

I have come to the conclusion that the actors involved: a) don't really pay as much attention to character interactions and the overall story as I expected b) they don't really understand what people like me mean when I say that John was abusive c) they subscribe to the authorial intent school of analysis and think their interpretations trump fan readings because the actors are the authority. I felt the need to write a separate essay detailing my evidence for John's abuse of Dean, but the utter lack of understanding displayed in the interview and podcast has lit a fire under my arse. I will have a full-length essay on this subject ready to publish alongside my analysis of 2x01 In My Time of Dying in a few weeks. Jensen, I love you to bits and I wouldn't bother watching this shitty show without you, but I need to have a chat with you.

[sloppy-butcher]

Maybe J, K, L, W and X for Hillbilly?

anon... you know DAMN well what you are doing. playing with my heart like this. i legit screamed when i saw this. thank thank thank YOU !!! he's JUSt what the doctor ordered <3 much love anon. hope you enjoy

edit;; i wrote SO DAMN MUCH I i need to go to horny jail

Fluffy Alphabet for The Hillbilly (Max Thompson Jr.)

Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Oh yes, but he would never even know he was. Max doesn't know what being jealous is nor does he know what it feels like. He would just begin to feel angry for no apparent reason, a burning familiar fury igniting in his stomach making him want to scream and get his chainsaw. Watching you interact with other people, be it killer or survivor, makes Max very sour. It’s extremely bitter when he sees you talking to others - were you happier with them? He’d get mad and his intrusive white noise would threaten to blind him with unjustified rage. 

He’d growl as he looms over you, silver eyes burning with unspeakably deep anguish. No words would fall from his mouth but you could tell from the mere way he stood there that he was upset. You tentatively reach up for him, Max flinching away from your gentle hand. Your heart breaks as you see a wave of unworthiness wash over his deformed features - he feels undeserving of your affections. Max is unsure if you even love him anymore. You belong with normal people with normal faces. How could he ever have believed that you would want to be with him? He recoils from your attempt to touch him again and you feel tears well up in your eyes. There was such profound sadness in that face and your inability to alleviate some of that pain scorned you more than any knife ever could. 

Before he could react, moving faster than lightning, you engulf him in a hug. Desperation to soothe his obvious heartache seeping through your embrace. Suddenly he breaks and gives in to your understanding and unwavering love. You must teach him how to recognize and deal with jealousy in a less self-destructive manner.

Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Hell no. Gonna be dead honest, he would be terrible. There would be too much teeth, his lips would not be able to conform to the correct shape and his tongue is untrained and a little too eager. But what he lacks in technique, he makes up for in passion. Once he knows that you don't mind that his kisses are wet and unusual and his confidence to seek you out grows, he wastes no time in getting quite accustomed to smooching your face. Every chance he got, Max would be planting multitudes of kisses on your person, moving up and down your body with his mouth leaving behind moist teeth-marks and red skin. His favorite place to kiss is your face - be it your cheek, the corner of your mouth, the top of your forehead, it is always your face that gets drenched in his love. 

The first kiss was an awkward one, Max had been acting suspicious all day. When the elephant in the room became too much to leave unchecked you approach him and ask him softly if something was wrong. You’d notice right away that he was shaking, his nervous hands fidgeting with the frayed edge of his shirt and his gaze never once having the confidence to meet your line of sight. After having a moment to compose himself, Max finally raises his head and meekly asks if he could give you a kiss. It's such a jarring, out-of-place question that for a few minutes after you remain stuck in stupefied silence. When you manage to give him a gentle nod, Max shuffles closer, his breathing hot and flustered across your face. In an instant, his lips are on yours, not even kissing you more just sloppily pressing themselves against you, and his eyes are closed. The kiss lasts only a heartbeat then he's pulling away, filling with embarrassment and shame. He begins to hurriedly apologize for the awful attempt at such a delicate and intimate act, shrinking away into his own self-doubt. 

He stops when you put your hand on his shoulder and sweetly plant another kiss on his forehead. “It was great, Max.” You whisper into his ear feeling all tension drain from his body at your reassuring words. “You were great.”

Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

He’d be an absolute mess. Why was he feeling this way? What even was this feeling? Perhaps he was sick? Maybe he was dying? He had never expected dying to feel this good, however. If he was dying then he’d gladly do so because then he’d get to stay longer with you. It was always you who set off that suffocating goodness in his chest, his knees always felt like straw when he’d steal a sneaky look at you. He would assume that feeling like this was normal for everyone when being around such a wonderful and kind person such as you so it would take a long time for him to realize that pining the way he does was not actually the norm. 

He remembers how the men did it on T.V, how they expressed love to their partners, and though nervous, Max knew what he had to do. So one night when alone he pulls you to the side gets down on one knee. He produces a strange bundle of dead flowers and other miscellaneous items that you supposed was meant to be a bouquet. He coughs and tries to force the words to come out but all he could manage was a pathetic mumble. Getting over your stupor at his forwardness, you suddenly sigh and let out a gentle giggle. He looks up at you with wide, unsure eyes - so much like a desperate child that you couldn’t help but place your hands around his crooked face. You call him a goofball and he smiles. You weren’t refusing him so, that means you love him, right? He’s elated. Ballistic! Wild! Walking on air! He stands up quickly and effortlessly sweeps you off your feet, cradling you to his chest as he spins around, all the while laughing his relief and joy.   

Wild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Max has a great fascination and strange enjoyment in being openly flirtatious with you. He absolutely loves it when you make crude jokes, smacking his ass and calling him sexy. He blushes and buries his head in his hands, unsure about what to do with himself when showered in such open tenderness. He babbles and shrinks away and to anyone else watching it would seem that he hates being so degraded but really he absolutely loves it. Call him a good boy, a strong, handsome man and he crumbles like a sandcastle against a wave. It makes his insides burning in a most fabulous way and he feels something fuzzy buzz up in his chest. It's a borderline praise-kink thing. 

He also enjoys showering you in that same raunchy show of likeness, though do forgive him for all the lines he uses are the same ones he picked up earlier from you (he’s not very creative). He’d smack your ass then would pull away and wait for your reaction. When you’d smile, he’d wheeze and produce a sound you assumed to be his own version of laughter. 

XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Yes. Most definitely. Having been deprived of physical affection all his young life, Max would behave like a starved man when you first introduce the concept of cuddling. He’d never want to stop cuddling you. His love language is touch. If you are at the point in your relationship where he is comfortable enough to allow you to touch him, Max constantly begs you for attention. 

He loves, and I mean LOVES, when you rake your fingers through his hair. It's an odd thing, coarse, wiry, and scattered across his shoulders in patches, but you manage to always find the best spots to gently stroke as he lies peacefully in your lap. Often you find that Max has fallen asleep and his ragged breathing simulates a cat purring. 

When he wakes expects to be covered in kisses and wrapped in an impossible bear-hug. He’s careful to not hurt you with his strength but sometimes he can't help the urge to bring you as close to his chest and humanely possible. He kisses the top of your head and goes wild when you start peppering his face with butterfly kisses. He giggles and can’t help but squeeze his eyes shut and grin like an idiot. You just made him feel so good. 

[softboywriting]

Haven Port | Chapter One | Shawn Mendes

Summary: Shawn and his pack have moved to your tiny town of Haven Port. You've never met werewolves other than your dad before and you’re infinitely curious. You may be only half werewolf but you and Shawn have a connection that will send you on a wild romantic journey in this small town you call home. [hybrid reader] [werewolf shawn] 

Word count: 2.5k

|Masterlist In Bio|

--------

Winter in Haven Port never seemed to end. The small town was blanketed in snow probably a solid 6 months of the year. The population was under four hundred and much of the residents lived outside the actual town.

You were born and raised here in Haven Port, the only child of a Werewolf father and a human mother. Your parents met when your dad got run out of a pack town along the shore.

For twenty two years you've grown up with the same people, and known everyone like they were your family. So when someone new shows up in town you're surprised, and even more so because they came into your shop.

Owning a tea and coffee shop in a place so small seemed unreasonable but most of your business came from regulars, fisherman from the boat yard and online orders that you shipped around the world. You specialize in making custom tea blends and gift baskets that become a highly sought after item during the Christmas season.

The bell over the front door jingles and you dismiss it for a moment, assuming it's one of your regular customers and they will wait for you to appear momentarily. You continue to stack the boxes of your most recent shipment of whole tea leaves. You like to grind them yourself when you make your blends.

You glance out into the shop and see a tall, young, dark haired guy browsing your display table. His appearance stumps you, and you can't put a finger on who he is. For a second you think he is Felicia's son, Cody, the one who ran the post office during the week. But he is too tall, far too tall.  

“Who in the world...” You mutter to yourself as you climb over boxes to get to the counter. A better look would help.

“Hello is anybody- oh. Hello.” The stranger smiles and his eyes meet yours as you approach the sales counter. His eyes...wow...they were like liquid gold, honey in the sun, Amber on an ancient tree. They are stunning.

“Hi,” you say, a smile infectiously spreading across your face of it's own free will. “I don't think we've met.”

“We sure haven't,” he purrs and extends a hand out to you. His eyes leave yours in favor of your ears.

You flatten your ears down and back, realizing he probably thinks you're a weirdo. You hated interaction with people who didn't know you. How could you have forgotten the fuzzy things sticking out of your hair?

“It's rude to stare,” you say cooly, shaking his hand very briefly before burying them in the pockets of your apron.

The guy shakes he head and looks down, a slight blush tinting his cheeks. “I'm so sorry. It's been a long time since I met a hybrid...I shouldn't be so rude. I'm s-”

“You've met others?” You ask, cutting him off and he raises his eyebrows. “Where did you come from?”

“You're a curious little pup aren't you?” He chuckles and leans against the counter. “How about we exchange names before we talk histories? I'm Shawn.”

You give your name and twist your hands in your apron. “Would you like some tea? Coffee?”

Shawn looks up at the menu and hums. He bites his lip, narrowing his eyes as he reads. “I'll have the Earl Grey special. No sugar.”

You punch it into the register and announce his total. He slides a card and you turn away to make his drink. When you turn to give it to him he is on his phone, frowning at the small screen. You slide the cup toward him and he wraps his hand around it, brushing your fingers with his.

He looks up, smiles and takes the cup. “Thank you. Have a good day,” he smirks and heads out into the icy spring air.

“Wait! You didn't...tell me where you were from.” You sigh, watching him pull off the street in a big black Jeep that looks way too new for anyone in Haven Port.

Immediately you go for your phone on the back counter. You had to tell your best friend, Faye, exactly what happened. She'd probably never believe you, and maybe Shawn was a fever dream, but you had to tell her anyway.

_____________________

Two days later you turn around from grinding up some tea for a special order and drop your spice blender as you catch sight of Shawn standing at the counter. You'd never heard the bell ring, but it was probably because the blender had been too loud.

Shawn rushes around the counter as you squat down to clean up the broken blender base. “I'm so sorry! I didn't think I'd scare you!” He kneels down and helps you clean up. “I can replace it, I'll order you a new one, top of the line. I feel so bad.”

“It's okay, I've got an extra one. It's not your fault at all. I was just startled.”

Shawn reaches for a towel to put the small pieces into to carry to the trash can. Unfortunately the towel he grabs has powdered sugar all over it from an instant coffee blend you were working on. The white sugar snows down all over your head and you can't help but laugh, falling back against the cupboard as Shawn stares in shock that he's screwed up again.

“I-I am so sorry,” Shawn mutters, reaching for your ears and running his hand over your fur gently dusting the sugar off.  

The moment he touches you, you're done for. Your eyes roll back, you lean into his hand, and you go slack. All you want to do in that moment is curl up on this strangers lap and have him adore you. God if he asked you to, you'd be all over him like a puppy wanting attention.

“Hey, you okay?” Shawn asks quietly, hand in your hair, thumb stroking over the base of your ear.

You snap back to reality, pulling yourself out of the euphoria you'd entered. You shove Shawn away and scramble back along the floor. “Don't touch my ears!” You blurt out as you smooth them down, trying to get rid of the feel of his hands.

Shawn stares, bewildered by your sudden mood change. He stands, brushing his pants off and looks to the front door as the bell jingles.

You stand up and see Faye crossing the small sitting area. She stops, eyes finding Shawn almost instantly. He was hard to miss, being so tall and broad.

“I should go,” Shawn mutters, walking around the counter and straight out the front door.

“Ohmygod! That's Shawn? That! Wow, if you don't lock that down, I'm going to.” Faye drops her bag on the counter and click her tongue. “What happened in here?”

“I dropped a spice blender.”

“Uh huh,” Faye says, eyeing the mess behind the counter. “ You sure you didn't knock it off the counter while you and Shawn were getting hot and heavy?”

“Faye! I don't even know him!”

Faye snorts. “Psh not yet, but you're gonna.”

_____________________

A few weeks later and you're behind the shop taking trash out and it's snowing. The sun went down hours ago and the night sky is reflecting off the snow, making the town an off orange and brownish hue. You crunch across the fresh fallen snow. May 2nd and still snowing. That was Haven Port for you.

“Hey,” you hear softly from behind you followed by crunching footsteps. You turn and see Shawn approaching with his hands in his pockets. “I'm sorry I touched your ears.”

“What? Oh! Oh that was weeks ago.” You laugh, shrugging it off. “You didn't know, you were just trying to help. Is that why you haven't come by?”

Shawn rubs his neck nervously. “Well, it's part of the reason. The other part is that I'm helping my pack move into a place right outside town. I was the first to get here so-”

“You're a Werewolf? You're like me!” You grin, excitement bubbling out of you as you start toward Shawn. You knew there was something about him when you'd seen those gorgeous golden eyes.

“Yes,” Shawn chuckles as you circle him. “I take it you haven't met any Werewolves lately?”

“Never. Just my dad, but it's not the same.” You circle him and shake your head. “How do I know you're not a liar?”

Shawn cracks his neck and rolls his shoulders for a second before he steps back and before your very eyes, his form changes into that of a very large rich brown and black wolf.

You can't help yourself as you touch his fur tentatively, fully burying your fingers in his coat near his neck. He sits and you drop to your knees in the snow, hands running up and down his back.

Shawn shifts back, sitting on the ground before you. “You're hard to read.”

“Huh?”

“Well,” he starts, taking your hand and rubbing his fingers over your palm. “You're sweet and shy one moment, then you yell at me the next. Now you're like a kid in a candy store upon learning about me.”

“Y-you're a wolf, how could I not be excited.”

“I'm an alpha actually.”

“An alpha? Oh my God.”

Shawn laughs, standing and pulling you up out of the snow. “You've really never met a wolf before huh?”

“Never. I've never left Haven Port, and not very many people visit here. We're kind of a stop over for fishing boats and that's it.”

“Ah, yeah, I picked Haven Port just for that reason. My pack has run into trouble over the past few years and I really just wanted to settle down somewhere nice. Something drew me to this place...I dunno what it was.”

You shake your head. “There's nothing here?”

“You're here.”

A blush tints your cheeks and you bite your lip. “I'm not sure what you mean.”

Shawn crosses his arms and looks you over. “Come on. I move to this little sleepy snow-covered town and I meet the most adorable hybrid on my first day? I think this town is going to be just what I needed.”

You roll your eyes and turn toward the back door of the shop. “You're such a flirt. I know you're just trying to butter me up for whatever reason.”

“I am not trying t-”

“You don't have to try so hard,” you giggle and Shawn smiles, chuckling nervously. “I'm already interested.”

“Oh? You are huh?”

You walk slowly back toward the door and Shawn follows.”I am. Would you mind walking me home?”

“Of course not. Would you like a ride instead? My Jeep is parked out front.”

“I'd rather walk, if you don't mind. I'm just...I don't know you that well. I don't think getting in a car with a stranger is very smart.”

Shawn shakes his head and laughs. “You're totally right. I'm so dumb, of course we can walk. For the record though, I'm not a creep.”

“Sounds like something a creep would say,” you joke and he just sighs into a chuckle.

You grab your bag and a hat off the coat hooks by the door. You lock up, pushing Shawn out and fishing your keys from your coat pocket to lock the dead bolts.

The two of you walk around the building and past his Jeep and you pause, looking at the shiny black car. It was really nice, and you sort of always dreamed of having one. They were such great all terrain vehicles...it makes you wonder if he bought it just before moving here.

“What's on your mind?” Shawn whispers, leaning in close to your ear. It sends a shiver down your spine.

“Nothing, I was just spacing off. Come on, I live up this way.”

You set off up the street, heading for the road that turned toward a street lined with old brick homes. It's chilly, and the wind picks up significantly as you round the corner to your street. You pull your coat closer around you and shiver, even with your Werewolf genetics, the cold got to you sometimes.

“Are you cold?” Shawn asks, glancing over your shivering form. “I could give you my jacket, I'd be fine.”

“No, no we're almost there.” You bite your lip to keep your teeth from chattering and tug your hat down from where it's slid up because of your ears.

“Pup, stop,” Shawn murmurs and grabs your hand. “You're shaking so badly. I can't in good conscience let you keep going like this.”

“I'm not a pup. I'm an adult,” you say a little harsher than you mean to. “I just...I'm fine. We're almost there. It's only a few houses down.”

“Please, I insist.” Shawn shrugs off his thick winter coat so he's standing in a nice collared front zip sweater. It's form fitting and you can't help your eyes as they wander over his chest.

“Fine,” you sigh. Shawn helps you put the coat, squatting to zip it up you. He stands to pull the hood up over your head and admire you in his big coat  It smells like his cologne and him...it's wonderful.

“There, you'll be nice and warm now.” Shawn says smiling down at you as a snowflake falls on your nose.

The two of you look up as it begins to snow, big clusters of flakes falling all around you. You push the coat hood back and your hat falls off as you tilt your head up to catch flakes on your tongue.

Shawn joins you and you can't help but laugh. You're two weirdos standing in the middle of the street at nearly eleven at night catching the first flakes of a snowstorm in your mouths. “What are we doing?” You giggle and Shawn shakes his hair out.

“I'm taking you home I believe.”

“Right, yeah.” You pull the hood over your head, pocketing your hat. “It's a few more houses up.”

Your house is at the end of the street. It's small and made of brick with a stone accent around the base of it. It's the home you grew up in and your parents gave to you when they moved a little farther out of town to a cabin your dad built.

At your porch you stop, hands on your keys in your pocket, and look up at Shawn. “Thanks for walking me home. I know it's not a big deal, being out here alone in a tiny little town, but it was nice.”

“Yeah, it's a pretty sleepy town, but I'd rather be safe than sorry.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle nervously, grinding your toe into the snow on the porch. “Good night I guess.”

“Mmhmm. Good night.”

Shawn steps off the porch and heads for the road to go back and get his Jeep. It's not until you're inside, greeting your cat Parker, that you realize you still have Shawn's coat on. Quickly you go to the window and look out, he's more than half way down the street and you decide you'll just have to keep it for now. Not that you mind.

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Please send feedback in asks, replies or reblogs. Let me know if you’d like to read this story. Thank you so much -A

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.*****

[sweetestlamb]

You Are The Best Thing That's Ever Been Mine

Summary: Cha Hyeon and Ji-hwan after their emotional reunion.

Author's note: Recently watched Search WWW and wow. I've never loved a secondary couple this much, I looked forward to all their scenes and squealed at their smallest interactions, all in all I'm obsessed with them and I just wanted to write some smut. Light Dom/sub action because I love soft boi strong girl action it's my weakness. This show wasn't wildly popular so you guys might not know it but I had to write this lol

She giggles freely, cheeks aching from her wide smile, bursting at the seams of her rosy lips. Relief and excitement battling for dominance in her body, disbelief also making a guest appearance.

He's here.

He's really here.

His handsome face lingers in her peripheral, camouflage fatigues only enhancing his movie star good looks. Women ogle him boldly as they walk down the street, turning a blind eye to their tightly clasped hands. If he wasn't holding her hand and unknowingly calming her anger she would beat them all to a pulp, how dare they lust after her actor?

But she also wasn't just a fan, the way he'd kissed her and held her, knocking her off her feet just as violently as she had to him when they first met made that apparent.

Her boyfriend. Her lover. Hers.

She has felt jealousy and possessiveness before, had been enraged to learn about that punk cheating on her but that feeling was completely eclipsed by what she felt for Seol Ji-hwan, the thought of another having him and being the subject of his love made her blood boil and curdle into ugly black lines.

But they were all merely fans, they hadn't seen him crying about his inability to stare at his dog or seen the look of pure glee and wonder as he looked at his billboard, they hadn't seen through him and want to hold on with all their might.

"Hyeon ah, are you okay? You haven't said anything since we started walking." His sweet deep voice makes her head swim, how could she not fall for this man? He has enraptured her in his spell, his happiness quickly becoming her reason for joy.

Love flooding her eyes, she squeezes his hand, fingertips dragging against his soft skin, before looking up at him, "I'm just so happy you're back. I missed everything about you."

He stops at the raw honesty of her words, gazing at her face with tender irises, deep brown gaze wrapping around her before drawing her into a gentle kiss. She moans at the sensation of his fingers in her hair, scratching at her scalp in delicious drag. When they languidly pull apart his eyes are darker than she's ever seen them.

"Please, take me home."

She can't do anything but obey his pleading command.

His eyes seem to track her every movement as she enters her own living room, dressed comfortably in an oversize shirt that hangs off her smooth pale shoulders and shorts that expose a berth of silky skin. Her hair is carelessly pulled up in a messy bun with loose strands kissing her nape with each step she takes towards him.

"I'm sorry I don't have anything for you to wear." She apologizes, sitting beside him their bodies melting into each other.

"It's okay. I should have went home first, I just couldn't think about anything except you."

Her heart flutters, blissful smile spreading across her face. She's only witnessed adoration like this in her dramas, the kind of devotion that drives people to move mountains and pour their hearts out in the rain. Never had this love directed at her, she's lost at how to react or even begin to accept it.

She's doesn't tell him any of her thoughts, instead she squeals and playfully slaps him on his chest which she notices is much harder and more defined than it was before his mandatory service.

Her fingers lazily draw loops before she pulls her hands back in embarrassment.

"Sorry." A wild blush burns across the pale flesh of her cheeks.

"Don't be. I liked it, I like everything you do."

He shouldn't say things like that to her, not while she's fighting every fiber of her being not to maul him and eat him alive. They haven't done that yet, they have kissed and kissed until their lips were sore but each time it would stray to something deeper he would cool their flames, caressing her head until they fell into slumber.

She was content to wait as long as he wanted, she would happily suppress her own desires for him. But comments like that threatened her thin thread of control.

With a deep sigh, she stands up grabbing her own face to cool her cheeks before pleading, "Please don't say things like that, I can't take it."

As she makes to go to the kitchen, throat desert dry from just sitting beside him, he latches onto her wrist halting her escape with a firm hold.

Their eyes meet in a gaze that threatens to rip her control from her grip, his eyes devouring her face bravely staring at her lips.

"Where are you going?"

"I just need....a moment to collect myself."

"Don't. Don't collect yourself, stay like this. I want it."

He tugs her forward until she's standing between the open vee of his long legs, hair falling devastatingly on his forehead as he dismantles her with a gaze.

"Do you know what I want to do to you?" She threatens stepping further into him, hands coming to frame his perfect face.

"Do you know how badly I want you to do it to me?" He counters catching her hips and closing his eyes in acquiesce, humming at her fingers on his chiseled jaw line.

"Ji-hwan ah what are you doing to me?"

"I dreamt of you every night."

She gasps in surprise, eyes blown wide as he stares off to the side, seemingly lost in a vivid memory.

"You visited me in my dreams every night." He repeats, "We would go on dates, I could smell your perfume and feel your silky hair. We went to the beach and....Seol was there too. We walked him together, we took a walk on the beach. I was so happy."

She stares at him, speechless, he is the only one that is capable of stealing her breath and thoughts in his fashion. The only one who makes her shy, it's unsettling and terrifying.

"But there were.... other dreams." Those dark eyes reappear, arousal swirls in her loins. "You were gorgeous in those dreams, taking everything and giving me all of you. I didn't want to rush you before but after being away from you....I need you."

Rush her.

It wasn't because he didn't want her that he'd stopped all the times before. She'd asserted several times that they didn't have the privilege to take things slow, only for him to slow them down routinely. Confusion had turned to rejection and shame.

But, sweet as ever he'd been trying to respect her.

Silly boy.

Climbing into his lap while wrapping her arms around his neck she giggles, seductively, licking her lips in delight as he watches entranced by the wet swipe across pouty flesh.

"I want to eat you alive." She promises, watching as his pupils quiver and a hard line pokes into her soft bottom.

She grinds down, rolling sensually in his lap enthralled as he tips his head back in pleasure, his lips falling open.

Leaning forward she captures his mouth, kissing the moans off his tongue as he grabs her head massaging her head as she does exactly as she said: eats him alive.

He tastes sweet and fresh, like he just ate watermelon and she laps at each corner of his mouth, tugging his full bottom lip into her starved mouth.

Their wet muscles dance as she continues to roll in his lap, bouncing to press him against her pulsating center and groaning at the immense pleasure.

Her skin is flushed from his body heat and with a final nip she draws away from him, smitten watching him blindly chase her mouth like a kitten.

He's so sweet and hot. She's never going to let him go.

He begs her to return with his eyes, she shakes her head, fingers catching the edge of her loose shirt instead, it's only then that he notices the tight peak of her breasts poking through the material.

As she pulls the cloth up and over her skin, cool air runs across her naked skin, her full breasts on display, petal pink nipples stark against her milky white skin. His eyes lock onto her heaving chest and she waits for him to make a move, anticipation rendering her helpless.

After a few minutes, he gently runs his hands across her soft plush mounds, too gently a barely there caress.

Impatiently she places her hands atop his own, meeting his shocked gaze with her own challenging look before squeezing his hands, hard. The pain shooting through her skin in euphoric bubbles, his palm dragging against her sensitive nipples.

"I like it when it hurts a little."

This time there is no pause, his response is instant.

Taking full ownership, he palms her large breasts, squeezing them and pulling harshly at her tight peaks, she throws her head back when suddenly a wet suction surrounds her. He tongues into the furl of her skin, sucking hard and groaning against her skin.

His erection grows harder as he continues his ministrations, going back and forth between both breasts giving them equal treatment.

Her little gasps and moans stain the air in a dirty streak.

"I thought about this a lot. You have the perfect... they're perfect just like you."

His confession makes her skin burn, it's exhilarating to think that he wanted her all this time, had dirty dreams about her and thought about her body. He's the only one she'll allow.

"What else did you think about?" She pants, nipples released from his lips with a filthy wet pop.

He grinds up into her heat. Answer enough.

Courage fills her blood, "I thought about you too. Every night. I....I touched myself thinking about you."

Admitting aloud is scary but the awe that saturates all his features makes it worth it. He looks like pure unadulterated love.

"Show me."

She can't do anything but obey his pleading command.

Tugging the waistband of her sleep shorts down her hip until her pussy is bare to his eyes, she runs her fingers down the smooth mound, teasing herself barely before plunging into her own silky wetness.

"Ahhhhh, fuck." She cries, thankful that she recently cut her nails, her short cuticles allowing her to thrust deeply into her center.

Her heavy breasts are grasped again, tighter now as he bounces them forcing her to drive harder onto her sticky wet fingers.

Prying through her wet folds she fucks into herself, eyes rolling back from the dual sensation.

His eyes are almost fully blown when she glances at him, locked on the movement of her finger into her moist center. His cock bumps into her finger, rubbing against her throbbing clit and it's too much and not enough, pulling her fingers out she struggles to open his pants. Smearing her juices across the material.

He reaches down to assist her and in a move reminiscent of her younger years, she throws his back onto the couch, catching his hands over his head, immobilizing him.

"I like to be in charge too. " She emphasizes her claim by tightening her hold on his wrists, eyes darting frantically over his face.

His face is so sweet it hurts, he looks helpless under her weight and that makes her even hotter, she wants to wreck him.

"Mine."

She snaps her mouth shut as soon as the word hit the air, fearing his reaction to her possessive declaration.

His hands go limp in her hold, no resistance whatsoever. Then he shatters her mind with his words.

"I'm all yours. Do whatever you want, I want it too."

Passion erupts like lava at his simple acceptance, nobody has ever handed themselves to her so wholeheartedly. No man has ever accepted her dominance without a fight, cries of feeling emasculated.

Yet here he is looking strong and submissive under her domination. The Omega to her Alpha.

Squeezing his wrists she takes the reins he so freely hands to her.

"Don't move them."

He lets out a deep breath before nodding.

She slowly takes her hand away, smiling as his fingers twitch but his hands remain stagnant.

"Good boy, my perfect actor."

Dark red flares on his face from her praises and she feels the hard muscle jump underneath her thigh. Interesting.

Sliding down his body, she finally gets a chance to appreciate him. She unbuttons his shirt yanking it open and gasping at the beautiful sight, smooth pale skin stretched across lightly defined muscles. The army has changed him in tantalizing ways.

"You can't ever do any shirtless scenes, I'll go crazy."

He gazes at her before letting out a deep chuckle, the rolling laughter doing wonders for his abdomen.

Curious about how that skin will taste in her mouth she licks across the etched skin, tongue sliding through the slopes of his muscle.

He whimpers above her, the vibration tickling her tongue.

She continues her journey trailing to the edge of his camo pants, his erection begging for her attention.

"Please, please, please."

She preens at his submission, pulling the zipper down and freeing his aching cock eagerly lapping at the clear fluid pebbled at the tip. He groans loudly while surging into her mouth.

Mouth stretched wide around his length, she opens her mouth wide to take him in, plunging down drawing him deeper into her wet oasis.

Unashamed she moans around his hard cock, lost in his heady taste desperate for more, wrapping a hand around his base and tugging him further into her throat, drool running down his length.

He thrashes on the couch, arms still locked above his head as he's destroyed by her clever tongue and coaxing mouth.

As she caresses his dangling sac he jumps, shoving his cock impossibly deep in her throat, close to falling off the edge.

She pulls away, releasing him.

"Hyeon ah....please."

She soothes him, calming him with soft rubs to his flank.

"I got you, you're mine."

He shivers, "Yours."

She undresses them both, twin nude forms. As she finishes he obediently places his hands back over his head.

She rubs his head in praise and pride.

"You're such a good boy, you deserve a reward."

His eyes light up at her suggestion, she sits upright taking hold of his aching meat, stroking it once, twice before tilting up and placing it against her heat.

Driving down, eyes locked on his, she spears herself apart on his cock, choking as his thickness spreads her wall.

"Feels so good." She praises, brushing his sweat dampened hair out of his eyes, drawing back before cocooning him once more his cock deep into her depths.

Suddenly it isn't enough, she needs more. Rough. Hard. Now.

She rides him wildly, her breasts jiggling from the power of her thrusts as her hips swivel and roll against him.

In the corner of her eyes she sees this hands move and immediately she catches them, keeping them still above his head.

"I want to touch you." He begs prettily and she almost gives in.

"No, just take what I give you."

His eyes flash and she slams down, ass cheeks slapping against his thighs sound obscene in the quiet room, their harsh pants deafening in the room.

Leaning forward she widens her stance, dragging him deeper and his cock rubs against her clit and her walls tighten around him, milking him and coaxing him to finish, burst apart in her arms. His eyes close as he fights to pull himself back from his inevitable demise.

She releases his wrist to hold his face, fingers drawing his eyes back open.

Shaking her head she hisses at him, "No, no I want to watch you. Everything about you is mine."

Never having anyone want him so truly and all encompassing, a single tear leaks from his eyes as he plunges up into her and his release is stolen from him, thick streams of white passion coating her walls.

Watching him break apart, she teeters into the abyss his heat scorching her inside out as pleasure dwarfs her senses.

Minutes tick by before she comes back to earth, her eyes are blessed by his serene smile as she opens her heavy lids.

So pretty.

He blushes, "Thank you."

She hadn't meant to say that out loud. 

Sliding off his now flaccid member, she stretches her arms high above her head sighing at the pop and crack that it elicits.

His eyes dart between her face and her chest, conflicted on where to look so attempting to do both.

How cute.

She lets him ogle her, even crossing her arms to put her chest on even more display, amused by his shy glances.

Finally standing she walks to the kitchen, shameless in her nudity, she can feel his eyes on her. She feels alive.

"Rest up. We're going to do that at least four more times before I let you go to sleep. We don't have time to take it slow."

Her actor gulps, nodding vigorously as he gives her a thumbs up.

She laughs, throwing her head back, long hair touching her bare back, she's going to completely wreck him.

She calls out for the rest of the week, ignoring Ta Mi's indignant cries as she suckles on Ji-hwan's cock, she has a lot of time to make up for.

[revcnqe]

YOUR FAVORITE TYPE OF ANTIHERO. Handsome, lots of swearing, violent, full of rage.

⸻ #revcnqe, a singlemuse blog for BILLY BUTCHER from the Amazon Series THE BOYS, as V'd up by 𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. Crossover-, multiverse-, multiship- and duplicate friendly. OCs welcome. Low activity, semi-selective. Mdni, 18+ only.

— ⁰¹ 「rules.」 — ⁰² 「promo.」 — ⁰³ 「about.」 — ⁰⁴ 「verses.」 — ⁰⁵ 「bulletins.」 — ⁰⁶ 「inbox.」 — ⁰⁷ 「writings.」 — ⁰⁸ 「edits.」 — ⁰⁹ 「gifs.」 — ¹⁰ 「credit.」

[elderling-magic]

Assassin’s Quest Question Time:

I forgot to do this at the time and now I am afraid I will forget to mention certain things -.-

1. What were your favourite moments?

The first chapters witrh Wolf Fitz and Burrich and Chade having to deal with him. 

Fitz and Nighteyes meeting Rolf and learning a bit more about Old Blood people.

Everytime we hear about how Patience is doing (and she is doing great and being an inspiration).

Fitz’s muder attempt and the journey to get there. Hilarious as I remember. Also, Will had a glow up and it was great to see him again. 

Everything about Kettle! I loved her even more this time.

Starling being honest and getting her fingers broken because she is no coward!

Every scene the Fool is in. I love his interactions with Fitz and Nighteyes.

The scene where everyone is singing in the tent.

Kettricken going to hunt with Nighteyes.

Molly and the Wit bees scene <3

Verity saying goodbye and the awakening of all the stone dragons.

Will’s death scene.

Fitz getting into Regal’s mind and the Skill manipulation until Regal is killed by a ferret. 

Starling bringing Hap to Fitz to keep him company.

2. Favourite quotes?

“Not being able to think of a reply is not the same thing as accepting another's words.”

“‘I thought we had lost you. I thought we’d done something worse than let you die.’ His old arms were tight and strong about me. I was kind to the old man. I did not tell him that they had.”

“Once I got away from him, I was smart enough to stay away from him. To hunt that one is as wise as to go hunting a porcupine.”

“One does not have to be Witted to know the companionship of a beast, and to know that the friendship of an animal is every bit as rich and complicated as that of a man or woman.”

“‘Tomorrow,’ he told me gravely. ‘We shall be ourselves again. The Fool and the Bastard. Or the White Prophet and the Catalyst, if you will. We will have to take up those lives, as little as we care for them, and fulfil all fate has decreed for us. But for here, for now, just between us two, and for no other reason save I am me and you are you, I tell you this. I am glad, glad that you are alive. To see you take breath puts the breath back in my lungs. If there must be another my fate is twined around, I am glad it is you.’”

“That is one thing that in all my years among your folk I have never become accustomed to. The great importance that you attach to what gender one is.”

“He had probably never considered that all I wanted from him was to be left alone.”

“‘You will live to love again. You know you have lost your springtime girl, your Molly on the beach with the wind in her brown hair and red cloak. You have been gone too long from her, and too much has befallen you both. And what you loved, what both of you truly loved, was not each other. It was the time of your life. It was the spring of your years, and life running strong in you, and war on your doorstep and your strong, perfect bodies. Look back, in truth. You will find you recall fully as many quarrels and tears as you do love-making and kisses. Fitz. Be wise. Let her go, and keep those memories intact. Save what you can of her, and let her keep what she can of the wild and daring boy she loved.’”

“I was the Fool and the Fool was me. He was the Catalyst and so was I. We were two halves of a whole, sundered and come together again. For an instant I knew him in his entirety, complete and magical, and then he was pulling apart from me, laughing, a bubble inside me, separate and unknowable, yet joined to me. "You do love me !" I was incredulous. He had never truly believed it before. "Before, it was words. I always feared it war born of pity. But you are truly my friend. This is knowing. This is feeling what you feel for me. So this is the Skill”. 

“No. This is right. I feel it. I am the Catalyst, and I came to change all things. Prophets become warriors, dragons hunt as wolves.”

3. Did the reread change your opinion of the book? In what way?

The women throwing themselves at Fitz wasn’t as bad as I remembered. I liked that all of them had different motives and it wasn’t just because he’s hot or something as simple as that. There was still some boring chapters but they weren’t as long as I remembered. I still enjoyed 85% of the book a whole lot. So, most of my opinions of the book remain the same but the book is even better than I remembered.

Final thoughts about the trilogy:

I enjoyed it even more this time. So much that I changed my rating of all the books to 5 stars. I always said that “Royal Assassin” was my favourite of the trilogy, but I am not so sure anymore. To be honest I think the most flawless book is the first one but more of my favourite scenes happen in the other 2 books so it’s really hard to decide which one is my favourite. 

I love this trilogy as a whole. It’s one of my favourites of all time. I think already knowing the characters and future events also helped me noticing much more details and get more attached to characters than I was the first time. 

[cloudyyoonji]

Cafe Dreams.

Lee Minho (Stray Kids) X Reader.

Summary: Working at a cafe had always been a dream of yours, but the cute barista somehow manages to sneak his way into your days with a wide smile.

Genre: SO MUCH MINHO FLUFF!!

_________________

As a child, you’d dreamed of one day owning your own cafe, the idea sending you in frenzies of excitement every time you’d think about the job.

Even some 15 years later, now age 20, your job was exciting, the best part of your life you’d say. From the regular customers to the co-workers, you absolutely love what you do and definitely wouldn’t trade it for the world.

You guys were open till 5:30pm every day, typically leaving at 6:30pm after all the jobs had been done. But tonight it’s a completely different story.

Customers that hadn’t left until 6:30pm had prevented you from being able to sweep and mop. So now, as your co-worker sat across from you, wrapping up the cafe’s cutlery in small napkins, your rapidly mopping the floor, in hopes that it won’t be too dark by the time your due to drive home.

As she leaves, you can’t help but sigh in defeat, flipping the chairs from the tables to rest on the already dry floor.

“Here, I’ll help you.”

Looking up, you smile graciously at your shift supervisor Minho. He’s young, probably around your age. You two often joked around whilst he was making coffee, clicking from the very moment you’d met.

“So where are you parked today?” He asks eyes averted to the windows as he flips the chairs almost effortlessly.

“The double story actually, I didn’t think I’d be able to get away with parking for 8 hours in a 3-hour zone today.”

He laughs, nodding his head. “That's probably wise.”

You smile, looking down to flip the stool onto the floor. “And where are you parked?”

“Well,” You’re both walking towards the counter now, finally finished for the night. “It seems that I’ve had the same thoughts as you, the double-all-day-parking-story has claimed another worker.”

Taking your bag from the cupboard, you're quick to clock yourself out with a simple photo.

So you two walk your way through the rest of the quiet mall, joking about some customers from today.

“She was so rude!” You exclaim, Minho laughing at your expression of fiery bitterness. “At least you didn’t have to serve her Minho.” He laughs again, shaking his head.

“But I did have to make her coffee seven times because it was too cold, then too hot.”

Bursting into laughs and all smiles, you both make your way up the stairs that will lead you to your cars. You can’t but help cringe at the darkness.

“Not keen on driving in the dark?” The question breaks you from your thoughts, a concerned Minho peering at you with a questioning look.

“Oh, uh yeah a little. I don’t know this area well since I just moved here.” You respond, keys rattling as you slip them around your fingers.

“Oh, you moved? How long were you driving to get to work before?” “Around 45 minutes.”

“Woah! I can see why you moved!” He’s shocked, wide eyes staring at you in disbelief at your dedication to get to work.

“Yeah, it was too difficult.” You laugh, moving to unlock your car with a smile click of the button on your key.

“You’re working tomorrow?” You say, looking up to the boy. He nods. “11- Close. You?”

“2 - Close.” “Perfect. I’ll see you then!”

And he did see you again, all smiles as you finally walked into work, hair pulled into a messy bun and apron slightly crooked around your waist. Your interactions became routine, every shift the same; walking to the car park, joking around. But, after a few weeks, you can’t help but feel a surge in your heart when he’s not working, but a spiraling nervousness when he is.

Did you like him? Like that? But more importantly, did he like you like that? You often scolded yourself for these thoughts, wanting to remain professional in front of your supervisor rather than act like a schoolgirl with a crush on the teacher.

“Y/N, can you do the till for me? We’re a little short staffed tonight.”

His honey-like voice certainly didn’t show any sign he was stressed, so quickly, you made your way over to the counter, the black tray in your hand landing on the bench as you rushed to enter the pin and take the orders of the long line in front of you. The line seems to disappear in no time, you quickly rushing to run the orders out to the customers, but a hand stops you.

“You’re on the counter with me tonight. Running is covered.”

“Oh…” you look up at Minho, who looking at the screen, brows furrowed.

“Okay, I know you don’t know how to make much, but bear with me on all of this. I need you to make me 3 chocolate milkshakes, all large takeaways.”

You nod, getting to work. You’d been absolutely dying to know how to make coffees since you’d started, but you’d only ever been trained in till, running and making cold drinks. Just maybe you’d be able to get him to teach you - if it got quiet that was.

In a matter of hours, you’d successfully make more thick shakes, milkshakes, and frappes than you could count. But you longed to learn coffee.

“Did you want to learn how to do this?” He asks, breaking your unconscience staring in an instant, seemingly reading your mind.

Your gaze moves up to him, hands moving to fiddle with your ring. “I mean I have no idea how to…” 

He smiles, beckoning you over with a wave of his hand.

“You’re going to make this flat white.” He tells you, pointing to an order on the screen.

And so your wish is fulfilled, Minho walking you through how to make the simple coffee, helping you where you need help with gentle hands.

“Okay, now we have to pack the coffee down here with the tamper. So grab that thing over there.”

You grab what he points to and listen to his instructions as you try to pack the coffee into the handle.

“Good! But just press down a little harder. Like this.” His arm is around yours in an instant, fingers on yours to help you press down. Your heart skips, eyes fluttering from your hands to the floor as you scold yourself for getting butterflies. But the moment is soon over, moving onto the next step in your coffee making.

By the end of the night, you can make a range of coffees with almost no guidance whatsoever, your hopes soaring at your newly found skill.

“Thanks for teaching me all that by the way... I was beginning to feel a little incapable of working at a cafe with no knowledge.” You say, filling in the comfortable silence as you two take your regular walk to the car.

“It's no problem! I’ve been trying to find a slow day to teach you. You’ve been working here for a while so today just ended up being slow enough for you to learn. I felt the same when I first started too though.”

Your drive home is pleasant, daylight only just disappearing behind the horizon as you start your drive. But you can’t help feel reminiscent over today. Was he flirting with you? You just couldn’t tell anymore. But you knew your heart rate had picked up when his hand was on yours, or when he’d quickly squeeze past you to grab a mug from the bench.

Even tonight, he was the same.

Mopping the swept area, you let out woeful exclamations of Maroon 5’s “Girls Like You”.

“You know,” Minho says, leaning on the bench top to watch you as you mop and, well, attempt to sing. “If you lowered your pitch a little, you’d be a good singer.”

To annoy amuse him further, you instead increase your wavering pitch, literally screeching “Cause girls like you run around guys like me!”.

He can only laugh at you, grabbing his cloth and going back behind the coffee machine to clean it.

“So what are you up too tonight?” He asks when your terrible terrible song finally finishes.

“Me?! Nothing! I’m probably going to binge something on Netflix” you reply, putting the mop back into its bucket.

“What?! Nothing at all?” He seems genuinely shocked. “It’s Friday night!”

Leaning on the counter to look at him you laugh harder at his expression of absolute shock. “I’m a very boring person have you know.”

Taking the mop bucket into the wash-up area, you throw its contents down the drain. “what about you Mr, wild parties I expect?” You yell, hanging the mop on the hook to dry overnight.

He laughs. When you come out, his features are curled into a smile, eyes half creased to moons. “ I wish!” He says, shaking his head slightly, “Unfortunately, I’m pretty much the same as you.”

“Ah I see, the lifestyle has attracted you to the dark side.” Grinning as you untie your apron, your quick to add to your statement. “Pizza is way too addictive not to eat alone on a Friday night.”

He hums in agreement, nodding. Even the hot supervisor thinks pizza is heavenly.

Both grinning at the events of today, your quick to slow your pace when a man stumbles out of the corner of the parking lot, even with his distance you can tell is stumbling drunk and reeking of cheap alcohol.

“Which ones your car? I’ll walk you.” Silently thanking Minho, you point to the small navy blue car, the one that is directly in the path of the man.

Trying not to draw too much attention, you both walk together in silence.

Arriving at your car, you look back, finding the man uncomfortably close to where you're parked, his eyes alight with drunken lust as they land on you. Squeezing your eyes shut unshut, fist unclenching and clenching, you turn to Minho who stares gravely at the male.

“Can you stay, just until he leaves?” You're almost afraid to ask, the question coming out in a whispered tone that Minho had never heard before.

Nodding, he opens the passenger side of your car whilst you climb into the driver's seat.

“Thank you.” He smiles knowingly.

“I was going to ask if you wanted me to drive you home. But this a good idea too.”

Sighing in relief, you readjust your mirror to check on the males drunken whereabouts, paranoid he’s going to somehow enter your car.

A soft grip on your hand brings your gaze back to Minho, whose looking at you worriedly. “I’ll stay. He won’t come Y/N, I promise.”

You smile at his words, nodding slightly as a breath of relief escapes you. Anxiety still somewhat eats at you, your eyes flickering from him to the mirror in a hasty flick.

“What’s your favorite drink?”

You’re brought back to reality in an instant.  Consciously aware of his grip still on yours, you search your thoughts for the answer to his question.

“Iced coffee.” You reply definitely, a smile spreading across your face. “Definitely iced coffee.”

He chuckles, shaking his head at your choice. “Even in winter?”

You nod wildly. “Especially In winter. It’s always iced coffee season Minho!”

He can’t help but laugh at your overdramatic reaction to your favorite beverage. “Well too your craziness, I prefer a classic cappuccino.”

You stare at him, outraged at his choice in coffee. “We can’t be friends. Sorry, I don’t associate with cappuccino drinkers.”

A quick glance at each other and your both in stitches, over what, however, you’re not sure. But it eases your anxiety. If it’s intentional from Minho’s behalf, you don’t know. But you do know that his eyes certainly shine bright, even in the darkness, and that his soft hold on your hand is comforting, securing.

“He’s gone.” The words send you sighing heavily in relief, a hand over your racing heart.

“Thank god. I didn’t want to be mugged tonight.”

A soft smile replaces his normal laugh. “I’m glad.”

The phrase itself is enough to revive your calm heart back into a thumping mess. Was he flirting or was he not?! But before you can even express your anger, he has opened the car door.

“I better get home Y/N. Make sure you get home safe okay? I’ll text you.”

His sincere smile and words send your entire body into a shaking mess. Why did he have to be so damn attractive?!

“Thank you again, Minho.” Somehow your response comes out calm, shooting him a warm smile and wave as he leaves your car and heads towards his own, the throbbing in your chest indicating something that your words couldn’t.

It wasn’t just you was it? The subtle flirts, the accidental skin-ship. Lee Minho was like an itch you couldn’t scratch, someone who is there, but you're unsure just to what he is to you.

Your nightly routine now consisted of him walking you to your car, to ‘prevent any muggings off his staff’ as he’d put it, despite the fact you were the only one he walked to the parking lot with.

He was attractive, to say the least, extremely attractive in actual fact. But his light and bubbly persona was what really captured you. He was so easy to have a conversation with, to joke with, to be with.

So as you walk to your car, he suddenly stops, eyes trained on you. “You okay?” You ask, eyes glazing with worry.

Had he forgotten something? Maybe forgotten to clean something, or that a manager was coming the following day?

He shakes his head a little reluctantly, standing his ground as his gaze falters the tiniest bit. “Can I just say something?”

You nod, brows furrowed in confusion at what could be bothering your dear shift supervisor.

“You look really pretty tonight.”

His statement comes sincerely, a little rushed and whispered as he avoids direct eye contact with you, keys jingling as he passes them hand to hand.

You stand there, shocked. “O-oh.” You stutter, a miserable blush forming on your cheeks in fire hydrant red.

“Sorry,” he sighs shaking his head, a hand running through dark brown tousled locks. “I made it weird. Just ignore that, seriously.”

“No, no!” You hold out your hands, shaking your head as he looks up at you slightly embarrassed. “I’m just a little shocked... no ones ever really called me that before…”

He nods, hand going to his neck. 
“Right.” He sighs, “can I say something else?”

Heart beating wildly, you nod. You feel like you could be sick at any moment.

“Well… agh, this is hard. Why is this so hard Y/N?”

You can’t help but shoot him an awaiting look, waiting for him to finally tell you the answer you’d been absolutely dying to know. Did he like you?

“I… I don’t know how to really say this, but I like you. Not in a way that staff enjoys working with other staff. Not the way I should like you. But… I don’t know okay.” He sighs again, dropping his hands to his sides before finally looking up at you.

“I like you, and I think you might feel the same way.”

Stunned by his confession, all you can do is simply stand there, uselessly tormented by the rapid thump of your heart and the adrenaline that runs through your bloodstream.

“Please,” His voice is barely a whisper, as numb as the cold air around you both. “Please correct me if I’m wrong.”

Shaking your head, you search your mind for the words landing on only one; Yes.

“Yes.” It comes out hoarse, like your in a hurry, out of breath. “Yes, I do like you. I do like you that way. You’re not wrong Lee Minho, you could never be wrong.”

Relief floods his face, lips curling into a smile as he finally makes eye contact with you. “I’m glad we sorted that out then.”

You can’t help but laugh at his comment, solace flooding through your own veins. He smiles at your enjoyment, dissolving into laughter himself.

“Well, Y/N, will you go on a date with me after work tomorrow night?”

Large smiles now cover your faces. “In our work clothes?” You question, eyebrow raised at the boy in front of you.

“Why not?”

Laughing, you hit his arm. “I’ll bring a change of clothes, you idiot. And to answer, yes. I will go on a date with you.”

A sincere smile lights up his features, his fingers fiddling with a ring you hadn’t noticed. “Phew.” He sighs, “I thought I’d been rejected.”

Smiling at his joke, you shuffle your feet, ready to bid your goodbyes to the boy. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Minho.”

As if playing in slow-motion, your turning away from him, but his grip on your wrist stops you, pulling you back to face him with a questioning look.

For a moment you two simply stare at each other, awaiting something that your not sure of. He looks at you for a long while, as if he’s debating whether he should do something or not, but shakes his head the slightest bit, a smile replacing his gaze of thought.

“What time are you working tomorrow?”

The question leaves you wondering just what it was he was actually going to ask you, but you answer regardless.

“8am - Close. You?” “The same actually… I guess I’ll see you then!”

The cheery tone makes you laugh. “Goodnight Minho.”

Making your way to your car, you can’t but help feel the spring in your step, the adrenaline in your veins, the excitement in your stomach. Keys in the ignition, you suddenly feel a rush of confidence, literally flinging open your door and yelling his name. He’s quick to turn around, wide eyes questioningly landing on you.

“Make sure you bring a change of clothes, for our date!”

You can hear his laugh despite the distance between you, it calming the fiery adrenaline in your system like a wave of cool water. “Of course I will.”

As the next day finally arrives, you find yourself stumbling nervously. Just how many times had you redone your eyeliner? You’d completely lost count at this point. A quick glance at the clock and your left grabbing your keys and bag in a hurry, shoving them into the ignition the instance you're in the car.

The drive feels long, each minute your in traffic adding to your butterflies. But when you get in, it’s quiet, one customer tucked behind the wall that separates the kitchen and the rest of the cafe.

He’s already there, of course, takeaway coffee cup in hand and cloth in the other, wiping any spillage of the coffee with simple strokes.

Quiet music rings out across the cafe, filling you with a sense of peace, tranquility. But when he sees you, it’s like all your emotions speed up again, heart beating a little faster, blood throbbing through your veins.

You continue to make your way towards the cupboard, trying to hide your light pink blush.

You barely notice him walking beside you, separated by the counter you’d soon be working behind. But upon reaching the cupboard you finally do see him, his determined gaze shaping your warm smile into a confused expression.

His hands are on your arms the instance he’s close enough, pulling you closer as his lips suddenly touch yours, lashes tickling your cheeks as his eyes flutter closed. Your shock does not last long, melting into his embrace as he kisses you.

Breaking apart, you look up wide-eyed at the boy in front of you, who stands, lips slightly parted and an expression that mirrors yours.

“I should’ve done that last night.”

The phrase is whispered, but it breaks your shock with a smile. “It’s perfect,” you respond.

As he lets out a toothy grin, complete with a breathy laugh, you can only grab the front of his black barista uniform and pull him down for another kiss.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

“I don’t care if they’re watching. I’m not done with you yet.” is giving me some serious Courtesan AU vibes

@soft-bram requested this too, so a fic for two lovely people

I call this fic, Caleb Realises He Has An Exhibitionist Kink

***

The inside of Marion’s brothel was a whole other world.

It was as if the whole place were made of light alone, barely tangible, always shifting and changing and dancing teasingly before Caleb’s eyes, crooking it’s finger to beckon him forward. He knew it was because Marion kept a flotilla of hanging glass lamps suspended at different lengths from the rafters. In fact, he’d sourced the resin glass for her in every colour he could produce in his lab and calculated the exact lengths at which to hang them to get the best effect. But even knowing this, the otherworldly beauty of it still stunned him, made him feel half cut before even a sip of the thick, molasses coloured ale he liked so much here had passed his lips. It made him forget everything beyond the heavy oak doors that muffled the sounds of song and laughter and love so well, bland and plain on the side that faced the street but carved into a vast scene of many lovers entwined around each other on the other face.

It made him feel like he could do something truly insane. Something wild and crazy and beautiful as falling in love for an hour.

Frumpkin had followed him in tonight. He did that sometimes, disappearing and reappearing as he willed, sometimes over in Jester’s lap, sometimes sat atop the bar, glaring at Marion’s cat Sune, sometimes with Marion herself, lying at her elbow as she scratched his ears, sometimes wherever he went in the fae realm when Caleb didn’t need him close by.

But now he was around Caleb’s shoulders, tail swaying lazily back and forth and paws drooping sleepily. Caleb petted his flank idly as he sipped from his tankard and turned the pages of his book.

His appointment with Mollymauk didn’t start for a while yet but he liked to sit in the brothel beforehand, enjoy the drinks and the atmosphere, so he always came early. It was probably good for him to spend some time around people, he reasoned, rather than staying sequestered in his lab with nothing but conical flasks of sulphurous powers and flickering flames for company. He’d gotten some odd glances at first, treating a brothel like a library, sat there with his drink and a different book every night, like he was some deranged lunatic who’d wandered in off the street and mistaken this pleasure house for a lovely, homely tea shop.

But now, of course, they were used to him and he got smiles and hellos and winks as the workers walked past. None attempted to proposition him, they all knew who he was here to see. Just the usual good-natured flirting; it was always a good idea to stay on the good side of an archmage. Even one as unconventional as Caleb.

He came upon him as he always did, almost like it was accidental. Like there was no rhyme or reason why someone as bright and bold and alive as Mollymauk Tealeaf could possibly have stumbled into Caleb’s grey little life. And yet here he was, in defiance of the way things should be. As if daring everything that held Caleb down to try and kick him out, flitting in and out too fast for it to right itself. One moment absent, the next suddenly appearing in the booth next to Caleb, his smile as bright as the sun.

“My little stray cat comes wandering back once again,” Molly hummed, practically whispering in his ear. That was how he always teased Caleb, comparing him to a ragged ginger tabby, always returning hopefully at the same time each evening, begging with wide, wheedling blue eyes for some milk.

Caleb grinned, blushing a little as he always seemed to do in Molly’s presence, setting his book down on the table. He kissed his companion’s cheek in greeting, noting how it was always soft and perfect without the need for any kind of make-up, “Good evening, Mr Tealeaf.”

The tiefling wrinkled his nose at the formality, “I’ve told you, sweetling, just let me know when you get here and I’ll come fetch you, you don’t have to wait around.”

“But I like it here,” Caleb reassured him, taking his hand, “And I don’t want to make you work when you don’t have to.”

His expression softened, less playful, “It doesn’t feel like work when I’m with you.”

It never failed to strike him, how easy it was being around Mollymauk. Everything that was always tight and tense everywhere else relaxed in an instant, he no longer scrutinised every single word before it left his mouth. Everything else was so exhausting, being with Mollymauk was freedom.

He looked nothing short of stunning tonight. The tiefling moved between dresses and trousers as if it was the most natural thing in the world, expectations and established roles less than a vague amusement to him, always managing to look gorgeous in whatever he chose. Tonight it was tight, clinging leggings made of a dark, silk like material that looked like it would be so nice to touch, a dark diamond pattern on one half and pinstripes on the other. His shirt was billowy and white with a black leather waistcoat over the top, high boots of the same material all the way up to his thighs, the whole outfit making Caleb think of a roguish pirate with a dangerous grin, come to claim him as treasure and steal him away. And, as always, he was wearing enough jewellery and precious metal to make a dragon envious.

“You look wonderful,” Caleb murmured, his words feeling muddy and clumsy as he tried to fit them together in such a way that they’d even come close to describing something as otherworldly as Mollymauk.

“You’re always so sweet, darling,” Molly smiled, resting a hand on the side of Caleb’s face, as generous with touch as he was with everything else, “You do know how to make a boy feel wanted…” His eyes, wide and red and demonic looking to people who didn’t know him, studied his companion’s face, an adorable little crease forming between his eyes, “Long day?”

Caleb bit his lip, there was no hiding anything from Mollymauk. He read faces, open or closed, as easily as he himself read books.

To call it a long day would be putting it mildly. He had come into the lab that morning to find a letter- not even a face to face conversation, a bloody letter pinned to the door- informing him that funding for his work was to be reduced yet again and all of his requests for new equipment from the last month had been denied. Bitterly, he knew it was retribution for the way he’d spoken out at the last meeting of the council. He always tried to keep his head down and say as little as possible, knowing anything he did say would be ignored or ridiculed, but when the Grand Mage had proposed his new cripplingly high tax on all non-human beings wanting to enter the city to live and work and escape the fighting in the empire, Caleb’s fury had overtaken his good sense. And of course, it had been for naught. The tax would be implemented anyway, the poor would continue to suffer, and now he was to be punished as well.

But he didn’t want to bore Molly with all of his woes, so he just sighed and nodded, “Yeah. A long day.”

The tielfing stroked his thumb across Caleb’s cheekbone, tilting his head as if to admire the view better, like Caleb was actually something worth looking at, “Well…you’re here with me now, sweetling. Nothing’s going to hurt or upset you here, not if I have anything to say about it.”

He had to swallow hard to clear the tightness in his throat. To most the words would sound foolish, the kind of thing you said to soothe a child who’d had a nightmare, not a grown man who’d paid for your time. But somehow Molly knew that it was exactly what Caleb needed to hear. And he said it without hesitation, with no judgement, making it clear that Caleb was allowed to want to hear it.

“Now…” Molly’s attitude shifted, lightened, turned back to his usual boyish, playful brevity, “It’s been far too long since I had you to myself.”

“It’s only been two nights,” Caleb chuckled, feeling better already.

“As I said, far too long. Practically criminal.”

He moved over, settling on his knees so he could seat himself comfortably in Caleb’s lap. Now he was so wonderfully close, his breath warm against his skin, smelling of coffee and sugar, his hands now both on his face, stroking back into his hair. His lips ghosted across his jaw, every so lightly, deliberately to make Caleb moan and want more which, of course, he did. Molly sniggered, delighted with himself, continuing to brush his fingers through his lover’s coppery hair and give him the most delicate, teasing kisses along his neck.

Messing around in the bar was far from uncommon, it was where the workers interacted with clients who hadn’t made appointments with a specific individual, so there would nearly always be at least one pair, or more than a pair, getting things started in one of the booths with gossamer curtains, or hell, even on one of the tables or up against the bar. At this point, the poor bartender just worked around them.

But Caleb had always been swept safely up to Molly’s suite, all the times he’d visited before. All the many times, at this point. The more Molly toyed with him, delicately, giving him just enough to wake up all those places inside him, those deep wells of want, but not enough for him to get anything but hot and bothered, Caleb began to notice. There were eyes watching them, mouths curving up into appreciative little smiles, eyebrows rising in interest.

And he liked it.

By now his blush had become a full-blown conflagration, probably looking ridiculous against his hair. Molly’s deft fingers had found the leather band that kept it tied away from his face when he was working, undoing it within a second so his hair fell loose like a curtain of wild, tangled fire. Caleb had realised very quickly why he’d been warned against ever playing cards with Mollymauk. His hands could be everywhere at once, fingers moving like they had minds of their own.

Caleb’s cock was like an iron bar, straining against the lacing of his trousers, well aware of the closeness between it and the heat rolling off the sweet valley between Molly’s thighs. It was just how he liked it, somewhere between pleasure and pain, the desire so strong it was too bright to look at, too burning hot to touch, like a scream bit between teeth.

“Molly…” he began, his voice strained and shivery. The request for them to move upstairs hovered at the back of his throat. Molly would do it within an instant if he asked, he knew that for a certainty, but…

“Hmm?” Molly tilted his head. Again, he’d read the thoughts behind Caleb’s eyes, pulling them free without any struggle. He saw the desire there, the way those eyes were making him feel, only increasing the fire in his chest. But also, the uncertainness, “My love?”

The offer was there, the willingness to let him choose.

Caleb swallowed hard, “Nothing…it’s just…people are watching.”

Mollymauk saw the decision made and grinned, his eyes sparking like two fires, devilish but still Caleb felt the sudden urge to put his hand in it.

“I don’t care if they’re watching,” he purred, voice low and carrying, no doubt audible to some of their closer audience, “You’re mine, Caleb Widogast. And I’m not done with you yet.”

Caleb could have melted then and there.

Molly’s hips began to roll, a long, slow movement like he was dancing, though to something certainly more risqué than the enchanted piano that played sprightly bar tunes of its own accord. The friction built slowly but surely, an agonising climb that had Caleb squirming and panting within seconds.

“They’re looking at you, y’know,” Molly whispered in his ear in a voice like thick red wine, “Seeing how glassy your eyes are getting…seeing the moans you’re trying to hold back…seeing how your fingers are digging into my shoulders…they all know.

“Oh gods…” the sound was strangled and fractured as it burst from Caleb’s chest. He could feel the slow, regular throbbing in his trousers, his own pulsing heartbeat.

“They’re only jealous,” the tiefling continued, not even breathless as he rutted against Caleb, all while keeping him pinned, “And who could blame them, sweetling? You’re nothing short of delicious but you’re mine, aren’t you? No one else’s. I can keep you dangling like this all night long if I choose.”

Caleb gave a loud keening noise, one that echoed a little further than he’d intended. The embarrassment wasn’t its own entity, it was one with the intense pleasure, the smoky edge of the heady cloud in his mind, inseparable, inextricable.

“I won’t, sweetling, I won’t,” Molly soothed, grinding down hard to make Caleb give a muffled shriek then pulling back, “I want to see your face when you finish. I want to see you make a mess of your nice palace clothes.”

“Trying…” Caleb groaned through gritted teeth, “Can’t…can’t get there…oh fuck, Molly…”

He wanted it so badly but it was just out of reach, it was maddening.

Molly bent closer, nipping his earlobe tightly, “Yes you can, sweetling. You can do it for me, I know it.”

And suddenly, just because Mollymauk said, it was so. Caleb pressed his face to the front of his shirt, toes and fingers and teeth clenching as he trembled his way through a sharp, hard won orgasm, just about managing not to scream.

There was a ringing in his ears as he came back down, a dizziness behind his eyes. But Molly was beaming at him, holding his face again with his thumbs stroking his cheekbones in that lovely way, and that was all that mattered.

Vaguely, Caleb reflected that he probably wouldn’t be able to sit here and read his book on evenings any more.

“Look at you,” Mollymauk simpered, grinning in sheer delight, “Naughty little thing, couldn’t even wait until we got upstairs. Come on, we’re going to have to get you out of those clothes and you’re going to have to make this up to me somehow…” He winked.

Caleb had never shot up the stairs faster in all his life.

[nntheblog]

The Boys Season 3 Episode 8 Review & Ending Explained

Season 3 of The Boys is over. It has left us with a bitter taste in our teeth. Season 3's finale is quite quiet. It's actually quite impressive. The build up to the ending was so impressive and well-constructed that we can't help but be disappointed when it is finally executed. The show doesn't have enough monetary resources for the visuals to go to the next level. The writing is still the most important aspect of the show and the season finale proves it. Butcher and The Boys are not making a significant impact on Homelander or Vought's dominion, and repetition is beginning to sink in. Everything stays the same at the end of the episode. Even the things that change don't seem that important. Amazon will soon release season 4. The following paragraphs contain spoilers about the final episode of season 3 on The Boys ( The Boys Season 3 Ending ) . Please read them at your own risk. The Boys Season 3 Episode 8 Review https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w8kJ2fHSktU THE BOYS Season 3 Episode 8 Breakdown & Ending Explained | Review, Easter Eggs, Theories And More By Heavy Spoilers Perhaps anticlimax was inevitable in retrospect. Because Homelander was clearly not getting rid of, it was always a risky idea to focus a season on The Boys. It shouldn't! Antony Starr's performance on the show is both the most complicated and entertaining . But, more importantly, he's also the main villain. He would eventually die so early, I didn't expect it. The cast is too large and the plot is so complicated that a major status quo shift seems necessary. "The Instant White-Hot Wild" doesn't really have one. Here, the stakes are remarkably low in comparison to the season two finale. It felt like anything could happen with just one plot win (defeating Stormfront), and one character win (Butcher promising to care for a child he never wanted), but it was followed by one devastating loss (Becca). There are still explosions, lasers and deadly nerve agents this season, but you'll see that nothing has changed. The Boys ending is full of excitement, but don't get me wrong. The Boys are still dealing in a schism and have different missions. Butcher and Hughie continue to transport Soldier Boy to Vought tower to kill Homelander, and Black Noir. Mother's Milk and Kimiko, a retired Annie, Kimiko, and a recently escaped Maeve, are more focused on Soldier Boy. They know that his standard explosive trick could wipe out thousands. This divide is further complicated when Butcher knocks Hughie unconscious before he can take any more V24. Annie then takes him along. Annie tells Hughie in the car about V24 deadlines, which makes him realize that Butcher saved his life. He convinces them to save Butcher's when they return home. Butcher's hideout is where their plans fall apart when the team arrives. Maeve turns back to Butcher and gives Frenchie one dose of Novichok. The gang is then briefly locked up in a safe. Soldier Boy must keep his word. Otherwise, None of Butcher's plans will work. The episode's other big question is: How Soldier Boy's knowledge about his relationship to Homelander will affect the mission? Butcher is confused as he shares stories about his abusive fathers with Soldier Boy. Soldier Boy believed he would be a better father than his own father. Homelander is sincere in his desire to have a family. This was something that wasn't possible until now. It's also a smart tactical move to win Becca's child Ryan over and appeal to Soldier Boy. He got Ryan's location through Neuman (in return for Dakota Bob's veeppick being killed), clearing the way for Homelander. It is heartbreaking to see Ryan return to Homelander, the man who tortured and jailed his mother. It hurts because it makes perfect sense, even though Ryan has been absent for most of the season making the transition feel abrupt. Compare his interaction with Butcher (his final scene overall) and his interaction with Homelander. Ryan was pushed away by Butcher, who expressed disgust with him and blaming him specifically for his mother's death. Ryan, on the contrary, is helped by Homelander to understand that Becca’s death was not his fault and that sometimes these things happen due to their abilities. Ryan's dad tells him that he loves him unconditionally. He's naturally susceptible. As expected, the final blowout of season 3 takes place at Vought. Soldier Boy ends up sticking to the plan, attacking Homelander despite his impassioned pitch for a two-strongest-people-in-the-world alliance. Soldier Boy views Homelander as a "weak and sniveling pussy starved to attention" and "a fucking disappointed." This is the exact language Soldier Boy's father used, directly contradicting Soldier Boy's earlier thoughts about ending the cycle. It all connects to Butcher, whose flashbacks from the last episode revealed how violence can become so normalized that it becomes an automatic way of hurting someone. Ryan shoots Soldier Boy, but Soldier Boy then hits Ryan back. It is the last, personal element that Butcher must face in order to realize the consequences of his partnership with Soldier Boy. We get a short rematch of the Homelander/Soldier Boy-Butcher fight in "Herogasm," except that this time Butcher and Homelander are on the same side. Maeve also gets involved, but she's still focused in the original mission. Homelander then takes out Maeve's eye in a brutal shot late in the brawl. The rest of the Boys arrive just as Butcher is being saved and get to work. Frenchie creates a Russian nerve agent in the last minute, while Kimiko continues to brutally kill anyone who comes near him. Hughie manages to evacuate the building but his greatest win was blasting the studio lights in an attempt to increase Annie's power to incapacitate Soldier Boy. Hughie's ego-trip lasted far too much this season. His revelation in this episode is predictable: strength doesn't always come with superpowers. Sometimes it's just heroic to support those you love. But it's still a moment of triumph. MM gives the Novichok to Soldier Boy and Maeve takes the ultimate sacrifice, flying him out of the window during the final blackout explosion. Except that Maeve does not die. Kimiko was not able to survive the blast, but she lost her powers. This allows her to travel with Elena and enjoy the happy ending they deserve after many years of heartbreak. It will be a sad day to see Dominique McElligott go, especially considering she has had very little screen time in recent episodes. She'll be leaving with some grace after a difficult season. Black Noir is the only character that doesn't make it to "The Instant White-Hot Wild" alive. His desire to face his demons causes his intestines to spill on Vought's floor when Homelander discovers Noir knows the truth about Noir's parentage. I guess you're dead! The final minutes of the epilogue are taken up by other things. Soldier Boy is returned to the CIA custody. He is put in suspended animation so that writers can use it again when they feel bored. Janine and MM share a touching moment. MM finally admits that he doesn't want to keep the truth about his supes. Cassandra takes on her husband/pawn The Deep in order to promote her juicy autobiography. Annie is inducted into the Boys. Dakota Bob announces Neuman his veep choice. The final image of Ryan smiling with an eerie smile after seeing his father being venerated for murdering a protester in broad sunlight is what most people will recall. Butcher is now dead, according to V24. He has only one year left to live. V24 is likely to kill him within 18 months. Butcher is left in a strange place at the end: Although he knows he will die, he remains committed to Vought's fight. It is unclear if Butcher plans to continue his vision, or if he has changed his mind after the latest loss. It is a loss even if everyone subdued Soldier Boy before he could kill many thousands. It's still possible to see the collateral damage from his previous blow-ups, deaths that would not have occurred if Butcher hadn’t brought Soldier Boy back. Although the Boys are now back together, they are still in a much worse place than they were at beginning of the season with fewer allies, and stronger enemies. Most tragically, Butcher may have lost his relationship with the boy whom he had come to regard as his son. The kid he lost to Homelander was a far more tragic and dangerous scenario than Ryan dying . It's because he forced Ryan into the hands of the monster. This is the most delightful irony. By compromising his relationships to pursue a "scorched earth" attack, Butcher made sure he lost everything that was truly important. He's now dead. These are the ideas I wish this episode, and this entire season, had more space for. The third season was great mechanically, with so many interconnected pieces that work together to make a fast-paced, entertaining batch of episodes. It was a great, sometimes heart-stopping episode. Also, It was too many storylines and it was very fast, with little time to really feel the emotions. It was full of beautiful and touching moments. Too often though, the season's focus drifted too far, leaving interesting storylines in the dust. Hughie never confronted Neuman, his close friend, about the feelings of betrayal that he felt after learning the truth about her. We did see Annie talking to her about it. Maeve was too often used as a plot device and Little Nina vanished. The Deep's storyline featured more comic-relief scenes. Despite all the death tolls being discussed, there was only one character who died in the Boys Season 3 ending. He was in vegetative form at the time. The Boys has a large cast and big ideas. As with all three seasons, "The Instant White-Hot Wild", is funny, grisly and very neat. Season four promises plenty of stories. The series gets longer, and it is more difficult to slow down. I still want it to keep trying. The Boys Season 3 Ending Explained https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4udkNRDcHR0 The Boys Season 3 Episode 8 Breakdown, Ending Explained & Season 4 Theories! By Think Story There you go. The Boys season 3 finale is here and there's a lot more to learn. The Boys season 3 episode 8 "The Instant White-Hot Wild" features the epic battle between Homelander and Billy Butcher, Soldier Boy, and The Boys. This episode was the culmination of the season's buildup. This episode was feverish. We found out that Homelander (Antony Starr), is the son of Soldier Boy. Homelander hunts down Ryan (Cameron Crovetti), with the help Victoria Neuman (Claudia Doumit), Hughie and Butcher (Karl Urban), going for more Temp-V, even though they are both in danger of overdosing fatally. The Boys season 3 ending had more to offer than just a few endearing moments and a few betrayals (depending on which perspective you have). Let's look at the temporary alliances, kills, and everything else that we saw on one of Prime Video's best shows. This is your Spoiler Warning For The Boys season 3 ending . We're going, ahem, deep. Boys Season 3 Ending : The chess pieces of the Boys move across the board Ryan tells his dad, a dear old homicidal father, that "Aunt Grace" (Laila Robbins) has been taking good care of him. Homie and Ryan had a heart to heart, and Homie showed Ryan the humanity that was necessary to take his son to the dark side. It was akin in spirit to what might have happened if Darth Vader had been a master manipulator, and Luke were easier to ply. The Boys' very-divisive version of our politics reared its ugly head at a rally in which the blue (Homelander), and yellow (Starlight sides) cried out in anger. Her team is going to #FreeMaeve after Annie (Erin Moriarty), exposed Homelander's evilness live on Instagram Live in 4K. Soldier Boy's side shouted loudly about children dying so that audiences could see who was supposed to be representing them. Ashley (Colby Minifie), and The Deep (Chace Crawford), found Maeve, Dominique McElligott, and watched as she was knockout-gassed before breaking free. Our anti-heroes want to move on to stop Homelander. Hughie wiles off the black goo from his Temp-V, and Soldier Boy doesn’t even pretend he’s going to help his son down. Frenchie (Tomer Kapon), and Mother's Milk, (Laz Alonso), what do you think? They have a weapon to kill Soldier Boy. But the former has the brilliant idea of keeping it in his perfume bottle. MM is torturing Todd for killing him, but that's only because Janine, his daughter, saw it. Now she may define him by it. Frenchie claims that MM can't hide his brokenness from Janine and that MM is too great for his daughter to let him go. Homelander notices Starlight's live streaming has knocked Vought out of stock, and Black Noir (Nathan Mitchell), along with his animated hallucinations, return to the tower to announce his intention to kill Soldier Boy. Homelander, unconvincingly, embraces him. Butcher stops at a gas station to get Hughie but not before comparing him with his little brother, whom he met last week. Soldier Boy and Butcher then set off for New York. A-Train (Jessie T. Usher), offers to help Franklin, his wheelchair-bound brother. Then he reveals that he doesn’t care if he can’t get back into the Supe games without him. A-Train then lies and says he didn’t kill Blue Hawk. But his brother sees through him and kicks him out the door before he falls out of his chair. Failure to reconcile Annie is there to help Hughie, and Annie takes him to the station. Annie then explains how Temp-V has put Hughie in danger. Hughie also talks about his father's resilience and emotional strength, ultimately trying to make an apology to Annie for his actions this season. He even let her out a "I f**king told you so!" They meet Maeve, who is stationed with MM & Co.. Kimiko (Karen Fukuhara), tries to shove Frenchie's nose out after he has done a line. He doesn't seem able to recall any of the "buck-up" speech he gave to MM. Kimiko argues with him and we at home get a little emotional. The group considers how Soldier Boy will interact with Homelander once they are in the same room. Starlight is unable to remotely evacuate Vought Tower. Hughie pleads for Butcher's rescue with the gang, saying that they must "save all, even those who don't deserve it". The Boys are all about loyalty, loyalty, and loyalty Butcher and Soldier Boy discuss invading the Tower and bond over their memories of their fathers. SB, on the other hand, goes vulgar about his past partners before explaining how miserable their childhoods were. Butcher attempts to convince SB Homelander isn’t worth caring about. But that speech doesn’t go over well. Vought is the second failed conversation. Homelander tells Noir his latest revelation as he attempts to learn anything positive about Soldier Boy. Homie gets Noir to admit that he knew of the secret fatherhood. Homelander then proceeds to literally rip Noir's guts and to leave him in a pool of his own blood. Maeve and Co. go to Butcher's house and demand answers. Hughie insists that they not go to violence (tough chance on this TV show), but then Frenchie stands up for himself and demands basic worker rights after Butcher tells them to stop. Hughie pleads with reason. Maeve releases the anti-SB nerve agents and Soldier Boy comes in to threaten Annie. They are all forced to go into the safe by Butcher. A-Train's warning is analyzed by Deep and Ashley. Homelander tells them to stay in the tower in order to show their confidence. He shows them Noir's helmet before telling them about Deep and the Octopus. Deep promises loyalty. Homelander demands Ashley take off her wig. The Deep proves his loyalty by assassinating Lamar Bishop, Graham Gauthier (potential VP candidate), helping to create a space for Victoria Neuman. Big climactic ending for season 3 of The Boys Starlight and the gang escape from the safe. Frenchie claims they can get more nerve agents from Vought Tower, and everyone is skeptical. Hughie begins to make a chorus of promises, but it's still the best option. Hughie finds a bottle of Temp-V and all of us fear he will be dumb. Homelander, Soldier Boy, and Maeve greet him in Vought Tower. He reveals that he killed Noir because of his hidden lineage. Homie makes a request for his father to join the dark side and brings in Ryan, the ultimate human shield who calls Soldier Boy "grandpa", and has forsaken Butcher. Soldier Boy does not buy this nonsense. He calls his son "weak," a "starved for attention", and a "f**king disappointment". Ryan laser-eye-blasts SB to end the fight, and then knocks the child out of a cabinet. Just as Soldier Boy is about de-power Homelander and take out Ryan, Butcher saves the day with Temp-V-enabled eye-beams. Butcher then explains his love triangle to SB, who mocks him for wanting Ryan to be saved. The big battle begins as Soldier Boy and Butcher destroy the Vought Network set, while Maeve fights Homelander. Starlight and MM are able to save Butcher while Kimiko and Frenchie make more nerve agent at the lab. Hughie orders an emergency evacuation. Ashley takes the emergency pod, leaving her assistant Ashley. Kimiko defends Frenchie at the lab and kicks butt to Michael Sembello’s Flashdance tune "She’s a Maniac." Homelander slits the eye of Maeve with his thumb. More violence ensues, and a paralysed Frenchie gives Kimiko the gas to stop Soldier Boy. In the Vought News set Soldier Boy beats Butcher and stops Kimiko gassing him. Hughie is left with a difficult decision. You can either take Temp-V to assist or be smarter. He chooses the latter and lights up the newsroom to give Starlight the power to take Soldier Boy down for a second. The gang has enough time to gas Soldier Boy with MM taking care of his family. Soldier Boy attempts to go nuclear to prevent being frozen again. Maude stabs Homelander in her ear, then she sacrifices herself by throwing Solider Boy and herself out of the window. The aftermath of Vought Tower's battle Everyone gets up but Butcher is unable to get a word from Ryan, who has chosen Homelander as his father. Butcher begs them to leave, and they ignore him. Also, Butcher falls asleep as Temp-V puts him down. Butcher awoke in hospital to find out that he has no time left (up to 18months), and will have to have his foot amputated. Janine is informed by MM that he has a complicated past and that Soldier Boy had killed their relatives. However, she still loves her father and tells him that he is her hero. We learn back at the hideout that The Boys made a fake head with that Vought News Network video that claimed Maeve was dead. The attack left her still without an eye and she isn't able to recover from it. Elena is here to help her ex and they will be able to escape Homelander's reach. Elton John's "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” plays while the Ashleys remove footage of Maeve being preserved. Grace watches as Soldier Boy is returned to cold storage, and Deep's wife shares all about their relationship via TV. Annie January, Flatiron Building HQ burns the Starlight suit and MM invites her to join. Frenchie claims that The Boys are now a democracy and that everyone is in agreement. Butcher is not opposed. We learn that Dakota Bob has chosen Victoria to be his new Vice President. We close the show with a Vought tower rally. Soldier Boy's statue is thrown to the ground by Homelander supporters, who join forces with some Stormfront sign-wielders. Ryan flew in to the rally and was given an introduction. However, a protester with a plastic bottle attacked Ryan. In another obvious political reference Homelander kills the man in broad daylight in front of tons of witnesses without any consequences. Todd is the one who stands up to give a standing ovation for this. We wanted MM to beat him up. The Boys Season 3: Things for Next Season To recap: Homelander has killed Noir and regained the son of his father. His press is not good, but his base is strong. Although Read the full article

[revcnqe]

「 Unprompted interaction」 for @a-neverending-story

"You can't have this bottle of Jack.", since it was the last one in the whole damn store. "It has my name on it."

[ckgalloway]

Five Reasons to Live In Egypt

As our time in Egypt is coming to an end, I though I would write about some of the best aspects of living here. We’ve lived in Kafr Abdou, Alexandria for almost two years, and although we are very much looking forward to starting a new life in Aberdeenshire, Scotland, there are many things we will miss about Egypt.

1. The People

The people in Egypt are, on the whole, quite friendly. They are quick to laughter and often enjoy interacting with foreigners. Of course, you get the odd looney tune, like anywhere. Wherever we go in Egypt, the common greeting is some variation of, “welcome to Egypt.” Egyptians are often genuinely interested in where we come from, and what we think of their country. Being from Canada, I’ve noticed almost every Egyptian has at least one relative who has moved to the great white north. Many return to Egypt - too cold for them. 

Another positive trait is that if you’re ever confounded by something incomprehensible (this happens often) you can be fairly confident that someone will rush to your aid. We were once on the train to Cairo and found our tickets were a week out of date. A family quickly came to our rescue, translated for the ticket collector, found us seats, guided us through the Cairo Station and even booked us a Careem (Egyptian Uber) to our destination. This kind of thing happens a lot. Just act befuddled and help will appear.

Also, Egyptians LOVE children. Unlike the Yukon, where we’ve been kicked out of restaurants at lunchtime because we have our seven-year-old with us, in Egypt children are welcome everywhere. They are also very much fussed over. In a good way. Most of the time. Blond kids are subject to a lot of hair mussing action.

2. The Language

Most Egyptians in the cities speak at least some English, but if you like languages, Arabic is certainly fun to try. I took two Arabic lessons a week for my first year in Egypt, however, even if you only have a smattering, any attempt to speak Arabic will generally garner a positive reaction. Even, my husband, whose Arabic is limited to yimeen (left) and shimaal (right) is generally rewarded with cheery smiles from the taxi driver. **Note: My husband had read this and wants me to amend that he also knows alatool (straight ahead) and he can mispronounce sabah el kheer (good morning). My most humble apologies to you, Richard, you are indeed a linguist.**

It’s a tricky language, but very rewarding to learn. For me, not only is it fun to speak, but the script is super fun to write. Almost any phrase looks elegant in Arabic. It feels great to be able a read a signpost, or a price label in writing that at first glance, looks like nothing more than squiggles (or a doctor’s prescription). Living in Egypt means that you will always have someone to practise with. And you get better prices at the market if you order in Arabic. 

3. Travel

Egypt is littered with historical sites and stunning vistas. We’ve seen moray eels and pufferfish snorkelling the Red Sea, we’ve spent many an afternoon playing in the waves of the Mediterranean, we’ve climbed sandy dunes in a 4X4, floated in salt pools, unwound in hot springs and sailed on the Nile. Then there are the historic sites. We’ve touched pyramids dating from as far back as 2500 BC (they were built when mammoths still walked the earth), we’ve visited temples that are ghostly quiet, and we’ve tread softly in ancient tombs, wondering at the intricate paintings and hieroglyphs. And then there are the times we just chilled by the pool. All without breaking the bank. Our favourite poolside spot only cost 25USD per night to stay.

4. The Weather

I’m always a bit thrown when people refer to the winter here in Egypt. With temperature lows of about 15C, it feels more like Yukon summer (meanwhile Yukon winter temperatures were often in the -30C range). Most of the time I can walk straight out of our apartment - no need for coats, scarves, mittens and all the paraphernalia of a Canadian winter. And then, in the fall and spring, when Egyptians still consider it to be cold (maybe 24C), we go to the beach and have it all to ourselves. Bliss.

Rain is a big event here. The kids at school go wild. Sometimes they need to be picked up from school early, kinda like a snow day. Once I picked my son up from karate in the rain, and his instructor was aghast that I was going to walk five minutes in the rain. Meanwhile, summer here is way to hot for my comfort. That’s when we usually escape to the UK. But hey, three out of four seasons ain’t bad.

5. The Vegetables

You might think this one is a bit weird, but honestly, the veggies here are just better. It might have something to do with how fresh they are. I mean, they get picked, get loaded onto a cart, pulled by horse into town, and you can buy the veggies right from the cart. Can’t get much fresher than that. The UK gets about 12% of it’s vegetables from Egypt, but they have to wait until it gets there. I get it the same day it’s picked. Oh yeah, and they are cheap. Sometimes when I pick up a few kilos of veggies and fruits, I feel weird just paying 20 EGP (about 1 pound). But hey, I’ll take it.

Egypt may sound great to you right about now, but I feel I must warn you, it’s not all sunshine and roses. Okay, well there is quite a lot of sunshine. But many aspects of life here are difficult to get used to. Namely the pollution, litter, crowds, casual sexual harassment, terrible internet, the green water week of 2018, instant summer sweat and the plethora of bad drivers (who constantly feel the need to serenade others with their car horns). But you certainly can’t say it’s not memorable. We will remember our time here with some frustration, but a lot of fondness. 

If you are thinking of moving to Egypt, I hope this helped. Please check out the rest of the blog for more information.