#I'm going to watch at my own pace since it comes out in the middle of the night here so if you see me posting less I'm just catching up

[genuflecting]

this feels like Christmas Eve but for gay affirming media deprived adults

[azrielbrainrot]

Hot Blooded

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x F!Reader

Kinktober 2024: Cuddle for Warmth

Description: You and Eris have to keep each other warm when you find yourselves stuck in a cabin during a snow storm.

Warnings: Smut, fingering, vaginal sex, riding, dirty talk

Word Count: ~2,4k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Notes: This was initially supposed to be a temperature play focused story but it turned into this instead, I hope that's okay!

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Walking into a small cabin in the middle of nowhere after being stuck in the snow for hours only to find all of the windows were broken and there were holes in the ceiling felt like a cruel joke. If you were alone you might have even cried at how frustrated you felt. You were beyond freezing, the wet clothes you wore only making it worse, and exhausted, both mentally and physically.

Just as you were preparing yourself to walk back out and brave the storm, Eris closes the door behind him and makes his way to the middle of the room, studying his surroundings. There really wasn't much to see, just an old couch missing most of its pillows and broken pieces of wood. If you gathered them it might have been enough to start a fire, especially with his powers, but since the windows couldn't keep the wind out there would be no use in even trying.

“Eris,” you call out, waiting for the Autumn Court heir to look up at you, “We can't stay here.”

“Why not?”

He asks so dismissively that it takes you a few moments to recover. In the meantime he keeps pacing around the room, picking up a blanket that looked like it was hanging on by a thread. Maybe the cold was messing with his brain or something.

“I'm not made of fire. I will freeze to death,” you explain slowly as if you were talking to a child.

“I can't keep a fire going in here either,” he continues your line of thought, at least letting you know the cold wasn't affecting his thinking skills, “but we can't keep going until the snow storm slows down.”

A defeated sigh escapes you. While it was true that going back out there was out of the question since it was only a matter of time before your body gave out, staying here wasn't much better, you can already feel your body getting colder from standing still.

“Are you sure you can't winnow out?” You already knew the answer, your own power being denied to you, but you can't help asking just to make sure.

“Yes, I can barely access my powers as is,” he responds, sighing like you were a petulant child, “Whatever ward was set around this place is extremely powerful.”

“I thought you were supposed to be extremely powerful too,” you bite back.

Eris simply rolls his eyes, not even attempting to argue with you. This meant he had to be even more exhausted than you initially thought, or he wouldn't have let you get away with that comment. You watch as he throws the old blanket he found to a corner, the one where the air coming from the broken windows didn't hit as intensely, surprising you even more when he takes off his thick jacket right after.

“What are you doing?”

“This blanket won't be too much help in this situation,” he says as if it explained why he was taking his clothes off in the middle of a snow storm.

“Then why are you stripping? That's going to make it worse.” You move closer to him, raising your hands, debating if you should stop him from unbuttoning his shirt during what had to be some sort of manic episode.

“Our best bet right now is keeping each other warm through our body heat,” he starts, watching your face go through a myriad of emotions with amusement, “Like you said, my body is made of fire so to speak. I'll keep you warm.”

This made sense, you knew that, in fact you were a bit ashamed you didn't immediately think of it, but as he takes off his shirt slowly your thoughts scatter. By the time you manage to get your body to start moving, Eris had already stripped down to his underwear, placed his damp clothes over the couch to hopefully dry, and sat on the corner, covering himself with the blanket.

He looks up at you expectantly, tilting his head slightly when you simply stare back. “I don't want to rush you, sweetheart, but if you don't hurry we will actually freeze to death.”

Swallowing and averting your eyes, you reach for your jacket, taking it off and placing it next to the rest of his clothes. You can't help but hesitate as you hold onto the hem of your shirt, unable to ignore the amber eyes burning into you.

“Close your eyes,” you whisper.

“Seriously?” He asks with a chuckle, complying with your request all the same, eyes already closed when he adds, “Didn't take you to be this shy.”

You usually weren't, definitely wouldn't be when it came to a situation concerning life or death such as this one, but the mostly naked person in front of you was Eris, the infuriatingly beautiful male who could get under your skin like no one else.

The moment his shirt started coming off, you were reminded of a party a few years ago, where both of you had gotten lost in your drinks and shitty lives and forgot that you were supposed to hate each other, making out right outside the bar. No matter how many years passed you still could feel his warm hands holding onto your waist, lifting you up against the wall, and the taste of his lips on yours.

Dropping the rest of your clothes over the couch, you move to him, the shivers running up and down your body not all caused by the icy wind whistling through the windows. Lingering in front of him for only a second before turning around and sitting in his lap, trying not to think about the fact that his bare skin was pressed against yours.

His hands fall on your waist as soon as he feels you in front of him, helping you get settled in silence, but he only opens his eyes after the blanket is draped over your body.

There was no doubt in your mind that you were both reminded of that same night, and maybe of all the others where a simple word or touch could have triggered the same reaction. You were getting warmer already without the cold clothes clinging to you, and while you hadn't meant it literally, it did feel like his body was made of fire as your cold skin lay against his chest. You don't know if he was using his magic to warm himself up further but it was making you melt into him.

“We shouldn't have come without backup,” you whisper, adjusting so you weren't leaning on his shoulder so much, the silence between you making you far too aware of your position. In truth, you barely remembered why you were there in the first place at this point, but you needed to say something.

“There was no one else I could trust,” he says, one of his arms wrapping around your middle, chest rumbling against your back as he spoke, “at least we know for certain something is hiding here or there wouldn't be any need for such a barrier in the middle of the mountain.”

You hum in response, not knowing what else to say, trying to sit up straighter again when you feel him tense up against you and his hold on your body tightening. At first you thought you could have hurt him, but when he doesn't say anything else or move again, you turn your head around in question, only feeling something poking against your backside when you meet his amber eyes.

“You need to stop moving,” he murmurs, half lidded eyes staring back into yours.

Swallowing around a dry throat, you turn back around, staring into the furthest wall and trying your best to distract yourself, counting down the seconds and imagining yourself sitting at a chair instead of on the lap of Eris fucking Vanserra. Trying to remember why you ever hated him in the first place, replaying in your head all the times you annoyed each other, all the petty fights and vile words you spit at each other. Your efforts are all in vain though, a different kind of heat manifesting itself in the pit of your stomach, especially as you're also reminded of all the times he was there for you, of the reason you had come to the middle of nowhere at his request with no questions asked.

A curse escapes him, head falling back to hit the wall behind you as both his and your scents start thickening, to the point even the icy wind circulating around the room couldn't mask it. You can't be sure what was going through his head, but you can almost hear his control snapping before he lays his hand over your stomach, pulling you closer into him, warm palm sending goosebumps across your skin.

“Eris,” you whisper, whether telling him to stop or keep going you weren't sure.

He shushes you, lips finding the side of your neck at the same time his hand moves lower, quickly finding the hem of your panties, warm fingers moving side to side just above it, making you tremble as they awaken your frostbitten skin. “We have to wait until the storm settles anyway. Why don't we make up for some lost time?”

“Lost time?” Eris hums behind you, the vibration rumbling under your skin.

“Haven't been able to stop thinking about that night even after all this time,” he starts, hand moving under your panties, quickly finding your clit and rolling it between his fingers, purring at the little noises escaping you. “If we hadn't been interrupted I would have fucked you right there.” He throws one of your legs over his so he could spread your thighs more, inserting a finger into you slowly as his other hand moves under your bra, teasing your nipple softly. “Fuck, I've been thinking about this ever since I first layed eyes on you.”

Your moans rise in tempo as he fucks you slowly, warming you up from the inside. Part of you was convinced you had actually fainted in the snow and were simply stuck in a weirdly realistic dream, but this wouldn't have been the first time he showed up in your dreams and they never felt quite like this.

His warm hands felt heavenly against your still too cold body, and the little kisses and bites he was leaving around your neck were driving you absolutely insane. You were also not surprised that even in this situation he couldn't keep his smart mouth shut, the sinful words he whispered in your ear only sending you further into madness, hips moving into his hand, grinding back into his hard cock at the same time.

A familiar knot starts coiling itself deep inside you, a whine of his name escaping before you reach for his hand and stop him. Just as he freezes and goes to ask what was wrong, you turn in his arms, kissing him before he has the chance to. You'd been craving his touch for so long that you wanted to do this properly, needed to see him and touch him, needed to taste him again.

He kisses you back immediately, hands falling to your waist as you straddle him, one hand reaching between your bodies to find his hard cock, swallowing the moan he lets out, both uncaring of the blanket falling around you.

The way he was fucking up into your hand, his own gripping your hips tight enough to bruise, almost makes you want to watch him fall apart under you like this, but you needed him too much, the same frenzy you had felt that night all those years ago returning, except you couldn't blame the alcohol this time.

You lift your hips and line his cock with your entrance as he pushes your panties to the side, staring into each other's eyes as you slowly lower yourself on him, moaning out at how deliciously he stretches you out.

Pulling you back down for a kiss, he starts guiding your hips up and down his cock, your hands getting lost in his silky hair, grabbing onto his shoulders for leverage, nails biting into his skin as pleasure overtakes all your senses. You couldn't even feel the cold against your heated skin, it could have started snowing inside the house and you probably wouldn't have stopped.

He was right you needed to make up for lost time, you can't believe you've been missing out in this, on him. Eris pulls away so he can watch you, blown out eyes staring into yours like he could find salvation in your gaze.

“Don't stop, doll.” You moan out at the pet name, at his deep voice begging you to keep going. “Need to feel you cum around my cock.”

As much as you usually hate taking orders from him, this one you were more than happy to follow, speeding despite the way your muscles ached, letting yourself get lost in the pleasure, in the feeling of his warm skin against yours, in the way his teeth sank into your skin as he chased his own high.

It crashes over you, taking your breath away as you both cling on to each other, curses and moans of his name escaping your lips, grinding into him until sensitivity has you trembling. He pulls you in for another kiss, savoring each other's taste and warmth, leaning his forehead against yours as he whispers, “I'm not letting you get away this time.”

You let out a sigh, pecking his lips again, eyes fluttering open, leaning back so you can watch him. One of your hands reaches to cup his cheek, the vulnerability in his eyes almost taking your breath away. Eris Vanserra always wore a mask, a cruel and twisted mask that had been meticulously crafted over the centuries, and as much as you've caught glimpses behind it, you had never seen him so open.

“I'm not going anywhere, Eris,” you promise, letting him kiss you again.

You spend the rest of the night cuddling under that blanket, so wrapped up in whispered confessions and sweet promises that neither of you notices the snow had stopped falling and the first rays of sunrise were already filtering in through the clouds.

[dirtyvulture]

Natasha Romanoff* x Fem!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Requested by @amanda13parker: GP!Nat who has blanket consent from fem!R to use her whenever and Nat takes full advantage of it. Cooking? Not anymore she's not. Bent over the counter and stuffed. Watching a movie? Nope. Riding Nat and bouncing on her ... thing... Sleeping? Woke up to being bred. And R is loving every second of it while being praised and a bit degraded, being called by Nat her good girl and her breeding slut since she enjoys it so much.

AN: Enjoy, friend! And everyone should go check out your artwork. 👀 This is basically just porn with no plot, so keep scrolling if you're looking for something with substance. 😂

*Nat has a penis.

You hear the front door slam open and Natasha trudge inside, dropping her heavy work bag to the floor.

"I'm in the kitchen!" you call out, although you know she can guess where you are based on the smell of your cooking. You're almost done now, the stew aromatic and bubbling in the pot, and you're taking the freshly baked bread out of the oven when Natasha walks in.

Just as you set the hot pan on the counter, you feel Natasha's arms coil around your waist, her front pressing against your back, her weight heavy and warm against you.

"That smells so good, baby," she whispers into your ear and your heart rate quickens when you feel her bulge press against your butt.

"Are you hungry?" you ask.

"For you," she responds, and before you can protest, Natasha has you turned around, facing the counter. Your shorts are on the floor as she wrestles out of her pants, her strong hands lifting your hips up to angle yourself back.

"Oh Nat," you moan as her thick cock slides through your center. You feel yourself dripping onto her in record time and you're glad she can't see how red you are in the face at how quickly she turns you on. Her fingers part your folds and rub your clit roughly, causing you to keen louder and thrust back, the emptiness in your core begging to be filled by her.

Natasha throbs at the noises you make, her breathing picking up as she prepares you for her. She slaps her cock against your butt before sliding in, grunting as you tighten and convulse around her.

"Fuck babe, your'e so big," you pant, pushing back to take her entire length. Natasha slams her hips forward, almost sending you crashing into the counter, setting a hard and face pace you can barely keep up with.

Good thing the bread is already out of the oven, because you have no chance of going anywhere now.

Natasha's grip on your waist tightens to keep you in place as she slams into you over and over, the tip of her cock brushing the sensitive spot inside of you with every thrust. You're almost standing on your tiptoes as you try to angle yourself to fit her better, moaning in ecstasy at the thought of her using you like a personal Fleshlight.

"Right there, Nat. Right there. Please don't stop," you beg, holding onto the edge of the counter so tightly if it weren't made of granite a piece would have snapped off.

"Look at you taking me so well. My good girl," Natasha grunts, losing some of her rhythm as she nears her release. The slick noises of sex fill the kitchen, and with one final thrust you come undone, spilling all over her cock.

***********************************************************************

Movie nights don't always go as planned for the two of you either. More than half the time they end up with both of you on top of each other, Natasha's cock somehow finding its way inside of you every time. But you don't mind. You love being bred by your girlfriend and even if your favorite movie of all time was playing, you'd gladly let yourself be taken any way Natasha wants.

And if being dragged onto Natasha's lap halfway through a movie and made to ride her cock until your legs were shaking and you were seeing stars wasn't enough, Natasha has the audacity to wake you up in the middle of the night, already with her cock between your legs, hard and ready for another round.

Both of you are lying on your sides, and you lift your leg higher to give her easier access to sink into you to the hilt. Your brain is a scrambled mess from being woken up so suddenly and fucked so frequently, but you don't mind at all. You love being used by Natasha and you love making her feel good.

The bed rocks as Natasha thrusts into you, holding onto your leg to keep them separated.

"You like being woken up just to be bred like the slut you are?" she grunts into your ear.

"Yes, yes!" you respond, reaching back to tangle your hand in her hair, dragging her head down into the crook of your neck.

"Who's slut are you?" Natasha asks, her thrusts quickening. She will never get over how well you take her, like your pussy was meant for her cock and her cock only.

"Yours!" you pant, slick running down the inside of your thigh. You aren't even sure if you've cum already, but Natasha gives no signs of slowing down as she plows into you. She gropes onto your breasts, biting bruises onto your neck and shoulders, handling you roughly as she searches for her release. And you're happy to lie there and be used, your body in a state of euphoria as Natasha finally cums into you, the hot pulses of her seed triggering yet another orgasm from you, and you go limp in her arms.

"That's my good girl," Natasha murmurs into your sweaty neck. "You'll look so beautiful carrying my child."

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

AN: Please like, comment, and reblog! Follow for more content. 🥰

[satorusugurugurl]

i love ur work sosososisoso much <33 thank y for sharing ur writing ahh!!! could i request a satosugu fic where toru gets punished by sugu and reader??! maybe for like.. getting off alone or flirting w someone else?

Summary: You and Geto went to a local bookstore, leaving Gojo to fend for himself at home. It’s not like the two of you didn’t invite your boyfriend to join you on your outing. But shopping for books, of all things, didn’t spark his interest. But as the boredom of being alone settles in his bones, he decides to do the only thing that sounds remotely fun. Beating his meat.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x FAB!Reader x Geto Suguru

Word Count: 2,876

Warning: Masturbation, cursing, oral sex, degrading, edging, smut, creampies, holy

A/N: Anon thank you so so much for the sweet words! I'm glad you're enjoying my stories! ❤️❤️❤️🥹This gave me brain worms and I just had to write it! Two of my weaknesses are SatoSugu x Reader and masturbation.

Lazy Sunday Afternoon

”Are you positive you don’t want to come with us?” Suguru questioned, cocking an eyebrow at his white-haired boyfriend. “We were thinking about stopping for lunch after.”

”Nah.” Satoru is leaning against the wall, watching as you tie your tennis shoes. “The idea of a crowded bookstore makes my skin crawl. Plus, that's you guys’ thing. Books and reading.” He shrugged his shoulders lazily.

You hooked your arm through Suguru’s, leaning your head against his upper arm. “Okay, do you want us to bring you anything home?”

”Nope, have a good time. I’ll see you when you get back.” He waved his partners off with a smile before heading back to the living room to enjoy his Sunday afternoon.

The first hour was fun, trashy reality television, and the cupcakes you had made the previous day. Thirty minutes later, he groaned, flipping through Netflix to try to find something, anything to watch. Two hours into being alone, all by himself, Satoru groaned as he started to regret his decision to stay behind.

The apartment was so quiet and lonely with you or Suguru there. The room wasn’t as bright and full of the life it usually radiated. Jeez, was this what his life had been like before the three of you had gotten together two years ago? He was so used to going on dates, cooking food, and just existing in each other's presence now. What had he used to do in his tiny dorm when he was alone?

He would eat take-out, play on his phone, and jerk off to porn videos on Twitter.

Satoru sat up straight, a grin slowly tugging at his mouth. Yeah, he used to jerk off constantly. Since you three got together, he didn’t need to please himself. Seeing as either you were sucking him off, or Suguru was giving him a handy in the shower. It was like heaven, being able to experience pleasure with the two of you.

But thinking about wrapping his hand around his cock, going at his own pace, had him throbbing with excitement. You and Suguru wouldn’t be back for a bit. When you two shopped for books, you shopped—going down each aisle, flipping through pages, geeking out over your favorite series. He had plenty of time to jerk off and recover in case things got heated once his two partners returned home.

Leaning back onto the couch, Satoru turned the television to some random movie on Netflix. Mostly for background noise, and if you two were to come home in the middle of his solo session, this might cover him until he could readjust himself. With his eyes on the screen, Satoru slowly began rubbing his cock through his gray sweatpants. Up and down, just warming himself up.

Gojo was surprised that he was as hard as he was already. Was it the excitement of possibly getting caught or just that he hadn’t pleased himself in so long? Whatever the case, maybe he could care less. All that he could focus on with the warmth that was beginning to settle in his groin as he pushed his sweats down to his upper thigh to free his cock.

It was so hard, standing at attention with a slight twitch. “Oooh fuck.” Satoru pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. “Fuck, I’m so hard.” He spit into his hand before wrapping his bare palm around his shaft.

His hand slowly began moving up and down, coating his length with spit. He squeezed himself harder with each stroke. He was imagining it as you or Suguru’s hand. Both are so warm but different. Suguru’s hand was larger, more calloused. Y/N’s hand was smaller, more delicate, and her manicured nails always looked o pretty around his cock. The faster he moved his hand, the more the television sounded like white noise as his mind swam around his two partners.

Satoru found himself mimicking the movements you and Suguru would do. He gripped himself tight, like Suguru, stroking fast and hard. When he reached his tip, his pointer finger would tease his slit that beaded thick droplets of pe-cum, as your smaller hand would do so gracefully. Imagining his two partners worshiping his cock, was better jerk-off material than any porn video.

“Mmm, ooh fuck me.” Satoru’s hand squeezed his thick length hard, his hand moving faster. “That’s it, Y/N, just like that, Sugu.” Looking at his cock through his lashes, he gritted his teeth. His tip was leaking pre-cum, his balls were tightening as he felt himself getting closer and closer to cumming. “I’m so fucking close, so close, don’t stop.”

Grabbing his shirt, he placed the hem of it between his teeth. The last thing he wanted was to get cum all over it. Having a new shirt on when you two got back would be hard to explain, seeing as he stayed home alone. It would be much better to paint his stomach. It would be easier to clean up that way.

“Nnngh, fuck.” Satoru’s muffled moans grew louder, his cock twitching harder under each stroke of his hand. “Fuck yes, fuck yes.” The familiar burning coil in his abdomen tightened, and he never heard the door unlock. “Fuck, gonna cum—“ And tightened as his partners called his names. “Gonna cum, gonna cum!” And tightened before it snapped as Y/N and Suguru walked into the living room. “Cumming fuck! Fuck!”

Satoru jerked his wrist frantically. Ropes of hot cum coat his hand, stomach, and chest. His pace finally began to slow as his cock started to soften in his hand, his white seed shining under the sunlight flooding the room. Fuck, he didn’t realize how much he missed jerking off. Especially since he had the two hottest people starring in his dirty mind.

In the afterglow, Satoru lazily looked towards the end table in search of a tissue. To his horror, he found the two of you watching him. Your jaw dropped, cheeks flushed, as Suguru ran a hand over his mouth, dark eyes glued to the cum on his stomach. The three of you basked in the silence before Satoru quickly wiped at his cum.

“W-Welcome home!” He shouted, doing everything he could to avoid eye contact with either of you. “I didn’t hear you guys come in.”

Suguru chuckled darkly, his eyes narrowing. “Yeah? Maybe that’s because we were too busy listening to you cumming.” All attempts to finish cleaning himself came to a halt at Suguru’s words.

”I well, I gu—“

”There’s no denying it, Toru.” You joined in; faux sadness etched onto your features. “We caught you red-handed.” Your pout was adorable as you looked up at Suguru. “This is why he didn’t want to come with us Sugu.”

“Mhmm,” Suguru gently stroked your Y/H/C, “and to think we felt so bad for not including him. We stood in line for forty minutes at the cafe to get him the chocolate cake they're famous for.” Gojo swallowed as you lifted a bag with the cafe's name to emphasize Suguru’s words.

Slowly getting up on noodle legs from his orgasm, Satoru started walking towards you both. “It wasn’t like that. I just got bored. It’s not like I plotted to stay here to jerk off without the two of you.” The annoyance on both of your faces made him cringe. “I appreciate you guys thinking of me!” His hands reached for the bag, only for you to yank it away. “Oh, come on!” Satoru Gojo pouted, his eyes darting between you and Suguru.

“Huh, funny you did cum, on yourself.” Suguru barked out a laugh at your words. “And you didn’t even let me lick it off. I think that’s what hurt the most.”

”Y/N has a point, Satoru. You cleaned it all off right in front of her.” Suguru took the bag from you and placed it on the breakfast bar. “You know how much she loves our cum. My poor Princess.” You sniffled as Suguru pulled you tight against his side. ”Satoru has been a very bad boy, hasn’t he Y/N?”

”He has.”

Gojo ran both his hands through his hair with a sigh. “I’m sorry, guys. Is there any way that I can make it up to you?” Instant regret settled over him like cold rain. Both you and Suguru’s eyes darkened as sinister smirks tugged at your mouths. “Oh, oh fuck, please wait, have mercy.” He held both hands up, but he wasn’t fast enough to stop you from pouncing on him like a spider monkey.

Hours later, the automatic timer on the living room light came on. Illuminating the lewd scene in front of Satoru. You were facing him. Your back firmly pressed against Suguru’s chest as you rocked back and forth on his cock. Suguru’s hair was falling out of its bun, dark strands sticking out here and there, clinging to his skin. His lips were against the crook of your neck, biting and sucking at your skin. His actions made you whimper softly as you rode him faster.

Satoru wanted to join in, to get onto the floor and drag his tongue up Sugurus length, all the way to your clit. He hated being in the recliner across from you, his hand jerking at his cock. Fuck, you guys didn’t even let him get completely naked. He still had his sweats on and spit-damp shirt clenched between his teeth. He understood this was a punishment for jerking off and getting caught. He had to watch you two, and he'd already cum three times. But this was getting to be just cruel at this point. He wanted to join in!

Instead, you watched him, smirking at the flush dusting his cheeks and neck. The tears that formed in his oh-so-pretty blue eyes, and the way he fisted his cock to another orgasm. Arching your back, you gasped, Suguru’s tip hitting your G-spot as he bit your shoulder. Your arm reached over your head, fingers fisting in his hair. The sight of you getting closer to the edge made Satoru want to join in even more. If he could just get his lips around your clit, he knew you would squirt all over his face.

”Guys, pwease!” The cloth muffled Satoru’s words in his mouth. “I wanna help!”

You chuckled in between soft moans. “Sugu~nngh oh shit,” You watched as Suguru reached a hand around your waist, palming your thigh. “He wants to help~!” You laughed breathlessly as Suguru hummed, his voice vibrating against your sensitive skin

”Satoru,” your white-haired boyfriend perked up, “you wanted to jerk off so bad when we were gone. So you’re going to keep jerking off until we say otherwise. Dirty man whores don’t get rewarded.” Suguru’s hand, which Satoru wished was around his cock, slowly slid up to your clit. “Good fuckin’ sluts, like our sweet Y/N here, they get what they ask for.” You whined, your hand tugging at his hair. “Mmm fuck, baby tell me what my good girl wants~ yeah, be a good example to Satoru?”

”I wanna cum Sugu.” You whimpered, turning your head to face him.

He grinned, pressing a heated kiss to your lips. “You wanna cum?” You nodded your head, kissing him harder. “Go ahead, sweet girl, cum for me, Y/N.” His fingers rubbed circles around your cock. “That’s it; I feel you clenching cum on. Let it out, princess.” His gaze darted down, watching as you squirted hard.

“No, no, no,” Satoru whined like a spoiled brat. “I wanted to taste her cum!”

You were trembling, still coming down from your orgasm. Once you could form words, you tilted your head to the side. “See why we were so disappointed in you?” Suguru slowed his pace, his still-hard cock gently sliding into you. “I wanted to clean you up, but you used a tissue. I think I’ll clean up my mess the same way slut.” Suguru groaned, his cock twitching at your dirty fucking words.

“No! Please don’t. I’ll clean it up!”

”Oh, will you?”

”Yes.”

”And how will you clean up Y/N‘s cum Satoru?” Suguru asked as you slowly began rocking back and forth on his cock.

The two of you watched as your partner stood, his cum coated chest and stomach heaving as he looked to the floor. There was a dark, needy look in his eyes, one a person would only see in a feral animal. You didn’t know what to expect. For him to grab tissues to clean it, like he had done to himself. Him dropping to his knees was something you nor Suguru had anticipated. With bated breath, you watched Satoru slowly slide onto his stomach, his eyes on yours as he stuck his tongue out.

“Holy fuckin’ shit.” Suguru’s cock throbbed harder inside of you as he watched Satoru lick and suck at your cum off the floor. Like some kind of desperate animal. Never once did he break eye contact. His tongue and lips kept moving, cleaning Y/N's essence off the floor in the most vulgar way. “T-That, fuck, Y/N wh—“

“Such a good boy.” You finished for Suguru. Your tight cunt twitched at the sight. “Cleaning up my cum like the horny dog you are.”

Satoru sat on his knees. If he had a tail, it would be wagging at your praises. “Yeah? I did good. Am I forgiven? Do I get to join in now? Please!” He watched Suguru’s face scrunch up as Y/N bounced faster and harder onto his cock.

”Hmm, Suguru, what do you think?” You asked, feeling another orgasm coming close as Suguru's hands gripped your hips, thrusting up into you.

”Let that dirty slut help. I wanna watch him lick your clit like he just did to the floor.”

Before you could change your mind, Satoru leaped into action. He was positioning himself between both of your legs. His tongue immediately went to work, sucking and lapping at your clit like a madman. The sudden added friction had you rocking faster, trying to feel more of his mouth on your sensitive sex. While Geto slammed up into you, chasing his release while driving you to your own.

Watching you both with lust-filled eyes, Satoru started jerking his cock once more. Fat and hard tugged as he took your clit in between his lips, suckling the bud as hard as he possibly could. That was all you needed to send you tumbling over the edge. You screamed so loud you were sure the neighbors would file a noise complaint against you again. Not that you cared as you felt Suguru’s chest heave as he buried his cock inside of you as he filled you to the brim with cum.

Thank fuck Suguru had been right against your g-spot. Because Satoru was bleed to have you squirt in his face. The sweet, tangy taste of you flooded his mouth. He sucked at your lips, tasting both your sweetness and Suguru’s slightly salty bitterness. Like a well-crafted treat just for him. The taste of you both combined had his hand stroking his dick, desperate to cum for the fourth time that day.

In the afterglow, Suguru grunted, kicking Satoru’s thigh with his foot. “Idiot, don’t forget what we just told you.” His best friend slowly smirked as you stuck your tongue out in between pants. “Don’t waste your cum.”

Not needing to be told twice, Satoru jumped to his feet, stroking his cock in front of your face. Only his hand was swatted away, replaced with Suguru’s. The sudden change of hand and pace had Satoru whimpering like the horny fucking dog he was.

“That’s it, Satoru,” Suguru purred, stroking faster, “cum on her face like a good boy.”

That sent your white-haired boyfriend right over the edge. Tears ran down his cheeks as he watched his load, which would most likely be his last for today, spurt over your tongue, chin, and the tip of your nose. You looked so pretty, cock drunk, glazed in his cum. It had him crying out in pained pleasure.

When the last waves of his orgasm faded, Satoru stumbled. Both you and Geto grabbed his arms, slowly easing him to rest on the couch next to the two of you. He gasped, his eyes shut, in post-orgasm bliss. You couldn’t help but smile, gently stroking his hair. Suguru kept himself inside of you, kissing your neck lovingly and putting the footrest up. You and your boyfriend relaxed in the silence until Satoru’s soft snores could be heard.

It's a perfect way for you to end a wonderful Sunday.

[brummiereader]

PREVIOUS PART

Killing Me Softly (PART FOUR/ DARK!TOMMY)

Summary: Tommy has an unexpected gift for you, but your strong wilfulness turns the joyful moment into one of punishment. Are Tommy's cruel games becoming too much? How much more can you withstand?

Warnings: Language, angst, fluff, psychological mind games, manipulative behaviour, infidelity, psychological abuse, Dark!Tommy (this is a dark fic, please read the warnings before continuing)

"Before we leave for the Garrison there's something I want to show you" Tommy said as he entered the study, a cigarette hanging from his mouth as he leaned against the door frame, watching the pen in your hand move along the piece of paper in front of you.

" I'm coming" you quickly replied as you walked over to where he was standing.

"Who's that for?" Tommy asked scrunching his brows together as he looked down at the envelope between your fingers.

" My mother" you replied nervously as you watched his eyes dart back up to yours.

" Give it to me and I'll put it with my mail" he said with his hand out, waiting for you to comply.

" Tommy I haven't seen her in a month, it's just a letter asking how she is, it's her birthday soon" you answered, reluctant to hand it over.

" Then you'll want it sent to her quickly " he replied, his eyes staring down at you. Nodding you handed him the letter, your fingers tucking a lock of hair behind your ear as you walked out of the study into the foyer.

" I'll see that it gets to her" Tommy called out ripping it in half, disdain on his face as he threw it into a nearby bin.

" Where are we going?" you asked as Tommy caught up to you, his hand resting on your lower back as he guided you outside.

" You'll see" he replied, a small smile forming on his lips as you both walked out into the mid-day sun. What did he have planned for you now? You anxiously thought to yourself as you made your way to the stables. It had been nearly a month since your wedding and you was constantly walking on eggshells around your new husband, your confession of hate only making the tension worse. You knew you had angered him with your harsh words that night he had you pushed up against the wall, the night darkness over took his once crystal blue eyes.

"I have a little surprise for you" he said letting go of your back as you both walked into the barn. " I always see you looking out at the horses in the fields. I think it's about time you had one of your own" he added as he walked into the middle of the building, a stable boy waiting with a white horse beside him. " Harry" he nodded to the young boy as he took the rope from him. "Come here love" Tommy said reaching his hand out for you, a smile on his face. Walking forward you was taken aback by the pure beauty of the creature in front of you, Tommy's black stallion going wild in the stall next to her. " Think he likes her" Tommy chuckled as he looked over to his horse pacing back and forth.

" Who wouldn't, she's beautiful Tommy" you said looking at the majestic white mare staring back at you.

"That she is " he replied looking at you as he patted down the horse.

" She's really mine?" you asked, the corners of your eyes creasing as a smile formed on your lips.

" She is"

" But why?" You asked confused at his unexpected show of affection.

" Can a man not buy his wife a gift?" Tommy laughed, his hand moving next to yours as you both stroked down her soft white mane. " Look, we haven't gotten off to a great start Y/N, I'm trying to make it up to you, I'm..." Tommy stopped interrupted by his stallion kicking the door of his stall, trying to get out. " Will you calm him the fuck down!" Tommy snapped turning to the stable boy as you flinched at his small outburst. "...I'm trying to do better, do you not want this to work Y/N?" he finished, his hand now resting on your cheek as he looked into your eyes, searching for a glimmer of hope.

You was reluctant to say anything, your thoughts too busy spinning in your head at his sudden confession of regret. Looking up at your husband his expression caught you off guard, there was no darkness or mischief dancing behind his eyes but instead softness, he looked...remorseful. Was he wearing one of the many masks he possessed or was this a genuine show of guilt? Maybe the sweet boy from Watery Lane was still in there, you wishfully hoped as you looked deep into his eyes. You was desperate for this marriage to work, what would the future hold for you and your mother if it didn't? There was still a part of you that wanted him, that silly teen crush creeping up on you when he would give you that look, the look he was giving you right now, drawing you in, comforting you, making your heart skip a beat. Why couldn't you show him the affection he so desperately yearned from you, you're his wife, would it not be cruel to deny him of that? Turning to face him, you brought your hand up to his as you slowly nodded your head.

" Is that a yes? he confirmed, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek.

"Yes"' you said smiling to him as he brought you into his chest, holding you against his body as his strong arms wrapped around you. Could this finally be it, the turning point in your relationship?

"So what you gonna name her?" Tommy said letting going of you, his thumb brushing down your cheek as he smiled to you.

" I don't know" you said looking back to the horse standing beside you.

" How about Nova?"

" Nova?"

"New. A new start" he said winking to you as he stroked the muzzle of your horse.

" Ok, Nova it is" you smiled, looking up into your husband's eyes, a wave of relief washing over you at his willingness to start again.

" Right, you gonna get on her then, go for a ride?" He said as he helped you up into the saddle.

" Tommy I know how to ride" you chuckled, smiling down to your husband as he was about to get up to sit behind you.

" She's a new horse love, it's best I ride with you"

" Tommy I'll be ok, she seems pretty docile, plus she needs to get used to me alone" you replied, too distracted by your new horse to see the quick change of expression on Tommy's face.

" Right" he said bluntly as he watched you leave the stables, his posture stiffening as he rolled his shoulders, the darkness rising in him once again, unable to keep it down. Why must you always push him away, always challenge him? Tommy thought to himself as he watched you leave the stables. You needed to be taught a lesson he justified as he threw his cigarette onto the ground beside him, storming out of the barn as the young boy followed behind.

"When was she broken in Harry?" You asked looking behind you as you scratched the side of Nova's neck.

"Six months ago Mam" he answered as Tommy approached the horse, his hands caressing along her back as he pressed his body against the saddle, unfastening one of the buckles.

"Go back to work Harry" Tommy said, cocking an eyebrow as he noticed the stable boy watching him in the corner of his eye.

"Mr Shelby, the sadl.."

" Now" Tommy said sternly, cutting the young boy off as he glared at him.

" Go on then sweetheart, off you go" your husband said as he patted the side of the horse.

Leaning against the fence Tommy placed a cigarette in his mouth as he squinted through the sunlight, watching you in the distance as you rode the horse he had just gifted you.

" She's so easy to ride" you called out happily as you trotted along the path.

" Maybe you should go faster" Tommy said sarcastically under his breath as he lit the cigarette in his mouth, cupping the flame from the wind while he watched his sadistic plan being played out.

" Slow down Y/N you might just fall off" he smirked as he exhaled the tobacco sitting in his mouth.

Picking up the pace your horse started to gallop to one of the jumps in front of you. It was only small and you felt confident enough to do it. Bracing yourself you approached the jump as Tommy watched on, standing up straight away from the fence as his eyes narrowed in at the saddle wrapped around the horse. Before Nova's hind legs could even hit the ground the saddle slipped to the side sending you crashing to the floor as you lost your balance.

" Oops" Tommy muttered as he watched you fall to the ground, one of his hands casually sitting in his pocket as he waited for you to call out for him.

"Tommy!" you cried as your body landed on your hand, a searing pain shooting through your wrist.

" I'm sorry...I'm sorry" you sobbed holding onto your hand. " I didn't listen, Tommy I should have listened, I thought I could do it" you cried, as Tommy knelt down beside you, brushing away the hair from you face, your horse galloping off into the fields behind you.

" Come on, up you get" he said holding onto you, his lit cigarette still resting between his lips.

" Where are you hurt?"

" My hand " you sobbed looking up into his eyes.

" There?" He said as pressed his thumb harshly into your wrist, the ash from his cigarette falling onto your hand as a small smirk formed on the corner of his mouth. Wincing at the pain you looked down at your now swollen hand, the pain shooting through your wrist as Tommy checked for any broken bones.

" Not as good of rider as you think you are, eh? Tommy chuckled as he held you into his side.

" No" you replied, your tears streaming down onto his suit jacket.

"Hey look at me. You fell, it happens, it's not broken it's just a sprain, alright?" he stopped, stroking both your arms as he bent his head down trying to catch your eyes. Leaning into him you buried your face into his chest, his hold on your body comforting you as he guided you back to the main house, completely unaware of what really happened.

" Harry, let my stallion out, he'll hunt down my wife's horse" Tommy smiled a sinister look in his eyes as he turned to see the stable boy staring back at you, worry on his face as he watched you cradle your hand.

" My stubborn little wife" Tommy chuckled as he kissed your head. "You really should listen to me sweetheart, I'm only looking out for you. Come on let's get you inside" Tommy added as you both walked up to the large wooden door of your home, Tommy's hold on your tightening.

It was an hour later and Tommy had driven you both into Birmingham for a family gathering at the Garrison, the first time in a month you had been off the property. You held onto your husband tightly, still shaken up from your fall as Tommy relished in your closeness.

" Been bare knuckle boxing again Y/N?" Arthur chuckled as he pointed out your bandaged hand.

" Leave her be Arthur, she fell off her horse, she's still a bit in shock aren't you love?" He said turning to you, placing a kiss to the side of your head as you leaned in closer, wrapping your arm around his lower back, holding onto his coat.

" Argh shit, should have let Tom here sit behind you, fall off a horse could kill you" he said tipping his whiskey to you as you looked up to Tommy's eyes narrowing in on you, embarrassment spreading across your face at your stubbornness to ride alone.

"Think she's learnt her lesson Arthur. Come on darling let's get you a drink" Tommy said as he guided you to the snug near the entrance of the pub.

It had been a few hours since you arrived at the garrison, your body snuggled in close to Tommy's side as Ada and Polly smiled to eachother, watching you both blissfully content in each others company. You looked like happy newlyweds, and for the first time in nearly a month you finally felt like it. Everything that had happened over the past four weeks suddenly didn't matter anymore, you finally started to feel like Tommy's wife.

"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you earlier Tommy" you said looking up at your husband, doe eyed as you rested your hand on his leg. His arm still casually wrapped around your shoulder he looked down at you, a smile forming on his mouth as he leaned in gently pressing a kiss to your lips.

" Look at you two, it's making me feel sick" Ada laughed, smiling to you as she took a sip of her drink. Tommy's arm tightening around you he took a drag of his cigarette, a sense of pride flashing across his face. You were both happy, finally...but like everything with Tommy, it would be very short-lived.

" Things are ok with you two now then?" John asked as you walked back into the main area of the Garrison after freshening up in the bathroom.

" They are" you said smiling to Tommy as he winked at you from the bar.

" Maybe we will hear the sound of small feet soon" he chuckled, nudging your arm as he took a sip of his whiskey.

" We are taking it slow John, we're in no rush"

" One day though, plus you have to actually you know.." John snickered as he looked down at you.

" What are you talking about?" You asked as you watched him steady himself against one of the long beams in the middle of the pub.

"You two haven't...you know, been together yet" he said clearing his throat as he quickly looked away. The amber liquid clearly numbing his ability to think before talking.

" He said that to you?" You looked to him, embarrassment spreading across your face as your cheeks turned a crimson red.

" Ahh come on Y/N, men talk" John slurred as he sat down on one of the tables next to him, your eyes widening in humiliation. Looking over to Tommy he watched as the happy expression changed on your face. Scrunching his brow Tommy started walking over to you, his footsteps quickening as he saw the tears build in your eyes.

" You ok?" Tommy said his hand on your lower back, pulling you from your thoughts.

" Think I've landed you in it Tom" John laughed, stumbling away, leaving you both alone.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Tommy said turning you to face him.

" Tommy have you been talking to John about us, about the fact we haven't been together yet" you said tearfully, feeling like the most intimate parts of your life had been exposed without any regard to your feelings. Sighing Tommy tried to take your hand but you pulled it away, folding your arms.

" Fuck sake" he muttered under his breath as he pinched his brow. " Look I probably had one too many whiskeys, hey..look at me" he said as he turned your chin to face to him. "You're not gonna start again are you? We're in a good place, don't ruin it Y/N" he added, his impatience with you evident as his strong hold on your chin tightened.

" Leave me alone Tommy" you huffed as you pushed past him walking to the small enclosed room, lodging yourself between Ada and Arthur so Tommy couldn't sit next to you. Clenching his fist, Tommy wanted to punch the closet thing to him, his annoyance searing at your inability to let things go. Entering the snug Tommy scoffed as he looked at where you was sitting. Pulling a cigarette out his pocket he sat down staring at you as he shook his head.

" Trouble in paradise again Tom?" Arthur chuckled as he looked at his brothers frustrated expression.

" Yeh something like that" Tommy replied lighting a cigarette as he tried to make eye contact with you.

" What's going on Y/N ?" Ada whispered into your ear as she looked at her brother.

" Nothing" you replied quietly as Tommy glared at you, biting his inner cheek.

" Got something to say Y/N ?" Tommy announced, blowing a cloud of smoke in your direction.

" Argh leave her alone Tom boy. Here love have a drink, drown your worries" Arthur said as he began to pour you a glass of whiskey.

" I'm fine, thank you Arthur" you said as you looked back to your husband.

" Don't be rude Y/N, drink" Tommy said standing up slamming the glass down in front of you, the amber liquid spilling over onto the table under it. The small room suddenly went quiet as Tommy looked down at you, unbothered by his display of anger towards you in front of his family.

" Fuck sake Tommy, if she doesn't want a drink she doesn't want one" Ada said defending you as she glared at her brother.

" It's fine Ada" you said taking the glass downing it in one as you watched your husband sit back down, a smug smirk on his face as he leaned back into his chair.

" Right let's play a game of cards" Arthur announced rubbing his hands together as he tried to break the tension in the room, Tommy refusing to look or say another word to you as your eyes began to fill with tears.

Storming into the foyer of Arrow House, you made your way to the stairs, Tommy's footsteps close behind you.

" Let me guess...I'll be sleeping in the guest room tonight! " he shouted up to you as he watched the end of your dress flow behind the corner of the stairs, slamming the door of your bedroom shut. " Hey! Are you listening to me?" he bellowed again as you walked into your room throwing yourself onto the bed, the distant sound of his anger raging downstairs as you tried to muffle the sounds with a pillow to your head. Storming to his office, Tommy watched as one of the maids quickly walked past him.

" Come here" he said stopping, lighting a cigarette in his mouth." Anna, right?" He asked, breathing in the tobacco as he looked down at the young maid in front of him, squinting his eyes as he took in her features, a small resemblance to you.

" Alison, Sir" she corrected him a flirty smile playing on her lips.

" Alison" he smiled as he nodded his head to his office. "You coming ?" He asked turning around, his hand on the door knob as he waited for her to follow him. Just as Tommy was about to shut the door he let go of the handle leaving it open, a smirk forming on the corner of his lips as he looked up at the ceiling.

Pacing your room, you looked through the cupboards trying to find something anything to calm your nerves. Maybe you had overreacted? You thought to yourself as you relived the day's event in your head. You had both agreed to a new start, anything that happened before today in the past. Guilt starting to set in, you opened the door to your room as you made your way downstairs to talk to Tommy. Just as you was about to turn into the livingroom you saw the door to his office open, the light from one of the lamps beaming onto the freshly polished wooden floors in the corridor, he was still awake. You wanted to clear the air, confront him and apologise for your overreaction, but when you got to his office door you was confronted by something else. Tommy was sat in his leather chair as one of the maid's head bobbed up and down in between his legs, his hand holding on to her hair as his blank emotionless stare fixed on the wall in front of him. You felt sick, you felt jealous a whole surge of different emotions overtook you as you watched your husband's blatant show of infidelity in your own home. Opening the door wider, fury overtook your body as tears streamed down your face. Turning to face you, Tommy's eyes locked onto yours as he let out a deep moan, still holding onto the maids hair as she picked up the pace. Tommy's body suddenly stiffened, his mouth slightly agape as he let out a low groan, his hooded eyes never once leaving yours as he mouthed your name. Shaking your head in disbelief, tears burned down your cheeks as you slammed the door to his office shut. He wanted you to see it, he enjoyed the fact you did, what kind of sick game was this?

" Get out" Tommy demanded as he pulled up his suit trousers, a giggle leaving the maids lips as Tommy marched towards you.

" Y/N ! Y/N! Don't you fucking run away from me, come back here now!" He shouted as he tried to catch up to you. Running up the stairs, you pulled off one of the small paintings hanging on the wall beside you, throwing it at him as Tommy ducked down dodging it Instantly.

" You're disgusting!" you screamed at him trying to shut the door to your bedroom as Tommy pushed back against it with so much force you fell onto the floor.

" How could you do this to me?" you sobbed standing up as he silently approached you, walking you backwards to the wall.

" What did you expect sweetheart?" he said tilting his head, his face inches from yours. " My own wife won't let me near her" he fumed against the softness of your skin. " I think you lied on our wedding night Y/N" he seethed as he pushed himself against you, yours eyes panicking as you felt his strong body pressed against your chest restricting your breathing. "It's been almost a month since that night...guess there's only one way to find out" he said as he started pulling your night dress up, his other hand reaching in-between your legs.

" You wouldn't dare" you replied with clenched teeth.

" Wouldn't I?" he taunted, his hand coming to a stop just above your upper thigh as he waited for your reaction. Pushing him away with as much force as you could, you slapped him across the face, instantly regretting it as he turned to face you, his eyes darkening as he clenched his jaw.

" Oh you've down it now sweetheart..."

" Tommy I'm..I'm sorry" you stopped him as he glared at you. Leaning in, you pressed your forehead to his as you closed your eyes not daring yourself to look at the anger filling his now blackened stare.

" Please Tommy, I'm sorry" you sobbed, pleading with him as you stroked his cheek, your lips gently pressing to his.

" Why do you torment me so much Y/N, always playing games with me" he replied his head pressing against yours, as his hands cupped your cheeks, sighing as his lips ghosted against your own. " Why won't you give yourself to me, do you want to make me angry?"

" No Tommy " you said as you caressed the side of his head, afraid of what he would do next.

" Tell me you love me Y/N" he said as he pressed his face into your cheek his nose pushing against yours as his fingers trailed down your neck.

" I...I love you Tommy" you cried into his touch, as your body trembled at your confession. There was no dishonesty in your voice, you had become dependent on him, so broken down by his relentless games you had started to crave him, crave his approval, his affection...his love. Resting your head on top of his, he pressed his cheek against your chest as you gently raked your fingers through his hair, your eyes glazing over as you looked at the empty wall in front of you. The room closing in around you both, you listened as his rapid breathing slowed down, his hold on you loosening. You could live like this couldn't you? In time things would change, Tommy would finally loosen the chain he had on you, you reassured yourself as your eyes slowly closed, a tear falling onto your cheek as you breathed in the stillness of the room, the peace of quietness silencing your fears as you finally surrendered, surrendered yourself to him.

NEXT PART

Tag list: @litteltourtius @aesthetic0cherryblossom @swordofawriter @casa-boiardi @muhahaha303 @fmo166 @call-sign-shark @priyajoyy

[aliceinxreaderhell]

Ghoap x fem!reader nsfw hc2

Listen, I love sub ghost I really do, ya'll are valid but,,,, dom ghost just,,,, you know,,,,

Baby boy loves control, that's why he's good at his job. Loves having a strict schedule and rules to follow. One reason he loves being a dom. He can set his own pace and knows the rules and especially after a while in a relationship know everyone's boundaries.

Loves to watch

So much so that, and he'll never admit to it, he hates it when you sit on his face. Doesn't mind it as much when it's just the two of you, and you've been his good girl but with both you? He wants to see both of your faces

But that's the only reason, other then that he loves being between your legs, and Johnny's

Johnny's a brat, loves to be punished, loves to convince you to do bratty things

Especially loves to convince you, and gets caught convincing you, then has to get tied up and watch you get overestimated as a punishment for listening to him, favorite punishment

Simon is meticulous about eating you out, knows what you like and doesn't like to stray, he wants his lovers to feel as good as they can, as much as he can do it

Johnny's sloppy eating you out, loves being in the middle and getting fucked into your pussy

Both of them are sloppy coming home after out in the field

Your actually going to have to call out of work for the next couple of days because you will not be able to walk

The whole dom/sub thing kind of turns off for the first couple of days. They just need to be close to you and in you constantly

So much cockwarming during this time

You will be (consensually) fucked awake

A lot

It's to the point you want to take up their offer of quitting your job, just be their cockwarmers since they fuck you out of commission so much

One of Simon's favorite reward is letting fuck you doggy style for as long handle, facing him sitting on a chair, slowly jerking off

Once your both done he'll command both if you to crawl and suck him off together

Loves it when you too get distracted and start making out over his cock.

Simon loves cuming in both of you, and Johnny loves cuming on you (and then Simon telling he to clean up his mess,, and then cleaning up Simon's mess in you while you squirm)

~

Anyways have my horny thought while I'm at work lmao

Thank you for reading <3

[raeedioheadd]

IN RAINBOWS - CHAPTER ONE

summary: mostly filler, introduction chapter to the reader and our beloved boys!

warnings: mentions of drugs earlier on, murder + death at the end

word count: 2.5k

a/n: the school system is based off my own so sorry if its a little confusing !! either way i hope u enjoy reading 🙂‍↕️ lowercase is also intended.

metropolis was horrible in the hotter months. it was only spring, so it wasn't at it worst, but once summer comes around i may have to consider an extended leave to gotham. peeling my eyes open, i ran a hand down my face as i felt around my bed for my phone. my fingers touched the cool screen of the device– at least something was somewhat cold. the screen lit up, the time reading 5:30. i sighed, looking towards my fan and wondering why i wasn't getting any air from it only to see my cat, kiwi, blocking the whole thing. not only was she blocking the fan, but she was picking at the laces of my shoes as well. i stood up and walked towards her, running my fingers through her fur and picking her up. "i need some air too, kitty." i murmured, feeling the rumbles of her purring.

i eventually put her down and went downstairs since i had to feed my dad's dog, buddy. technically i was living alone for the moment. dad was always on a business trip for something somewhere, but it's not like he was distant or anything. he was everything but distant. when he was home, he tried to hover, but he always gave up because i never did anything interesting or tried to hide anything from him. we were close, and that bond strengthened after my mother died. leading up to her death, they argued a lot. he was a person of interest for a bit, but the case was eventually closed since there were no leads. it was frustrating, but i didn't want to try to play hero. we have enough of those already.

buddy was still sleeping by the time i made my way downstairs to feed him. he was a doberman; usually my dad took him on his little business trips, but this time around he kept him home. setting his bowl down, i gently scratched behind his ears before going back upstairs to shower.

i usually took cold showers in the morning to combat the metropolis heat. they worked most of the time, but they got worse around the middle of the day. thank god it was friday. after about an hour in the shower i finally got out before quickly changing and starting my walk to school. since it was my senior year and i had already completed most of my core classes, i decided to take on an early class for the second year in a row and get out much earlier than everyone else. i start school at 7:00 while everyone else starts at 8 in exchange for only taking 4 classes and getting out at 11. since i only have four classes, i was finishing up my third year of science, doubling up on math and getting to eat lunch before leaving. i could just skip lunch if i really wanted to, but it's free food!

i wasn't necessarily the most sociable person unless someone talked to me or approached me first. that being said, i'm not a social recluse either. i have my good chunk of friends- one being closer than most, and that's laila; but that's because she's just stuck around longer. that, and she doesn't know how to do her homework on time. the second i stepped into the school, laila was next to me and matching my pace. sometimes i wondered if she could read minds, but that would mean she'd be a meta. and she was, as rude as it sounds, too gullible to be one. "hey! hey!!" she huffed, waving her hand infront of my face. she called out my name and i finally decided to look over at her, bumping my shoulder against hers. "what? if you ask me for homework help again i'm gonna have to say no. my afternoon is filled with watching twilight and sleeping." i said, giving her a cheeky smile. she grumbled to herself for a moment before letting out a guttural groan. "can't you just stick around for lunch or something and help me? you're smart! that's why you finished your classes earlier than everyone else!" and the exact reason i'm not taking electives. i sighed and shook my head, walking to my class with her.

"that's not how it works," i started, glancing at her for a mere moment, "i finished my classes earlier because i took all of my harder and more important classes freshman year. and if i remember correctly," i paused, giving her a knowing look, "somebody was too high half of the time to remember to actually come to school." i shrugged, causing her to kick me with a surprising amount of force. "shut up! can you just tutor me or not?" she begs, clasping her hands together and turning to face me as we reached my class. letting out my third sigh in the past hour, i caved and said yes. she thanked me at least fifty times before scurrying off to her class before the late bell rang.

my first class was astronomy, which wasn't as interesting as it sounded. if you didn't get it confused with astrology, you knew what you were expecting. i was expecting math, but not this much math. it was tedious, but i had to deal with it. it wasn't terrible, but i didn't necessarily like it either.

the teacher droned on for most of the class period, pacing around the classroom to make sure that nobody was on their phone or sleeping. he called on me a few times, unfortunately. the old geezer managed to catch me off guard a few times with some of the questions, but it was whatever. class had ended before i knew it.

my next two classes were both math classes, sadly. my whole school day seemed to be filled with math other than the singular english class i was taking right before lunch. it was a writing class, so it was bearable enough. i enjoyed writing, actually. though, that was only when i didn't have writers block. that, and the teacher was one of the few teachers who wasn't grumpy and mad at the students because his life was going horribly. he cared for each and every one of his students, though not overbearingly.

my astronomy teacher had a stick up his ass every other day for no reason at all– he cheated on his dying wife and often liked to make fun of her infront of the class. no one laughed. my math teachers, both female (and related) were lighthearted and funny. they made the classroom atmosphere calm and you wouldn't feel embarrassed to get an answer wrong. my english teacher, like i said before, was my favorite. maybe it was because i've had him all four years of highschool, but it seemed i was a mirror of himself when i was his age.

upon walking into the classroom, he greeted me with my name and a smile. "it's nice to see you've finally caught up on sleep. you finish supernatural yet?" he asks, taking a jab at my poor sleep schedule. "no, not yet. and hey, i get more than enough sleep." i huff, setting my bag down and sitting in the second chair by his desk. he'd never admit it, but he put the second chair here for me. he said it was for the students he'd have help grade papers. (aka me.)

"what are we doing today? another essay?" i ask, spinning around slowly. "no, actually," he says, stopping my spinning so he could sit in his own chair, "i've decided to be nice teacher for a bit and let you guys watch a movie. nothing special, just make sure to pay enough attention to write a theme analysis once it's over. it should take up the whole week." he explained, causing me to sigh. "okay, whatever man." i shrug, standing up and moving the chair out of the way. i go to sit in my own seat and play on my phone for the remainder of the class, having already seen the movie.

the bell finally rang, and i watched as the students in my class ran through the door to get to their next destination. some were going to lunch while some were going their next class. i waved goodbye to my teacher and made my way to the library where i saw laila waiting for me. she beamed at me and was quick to wave me over– a bit too happy. sitting down, i gave her a once over before looking around to make sure no one was in earshot. "are you fucking high dude?" i whisper, furrowing my brows at her. she fell into a fit of giggles, leaning her body into my own. her eyes were the slightest shade of red, but it was nothing too noticable.

"i'm not..maybe." she whispered as i pushed her off of me. "drink some water. you still have three more classes after this." i said, grabbing her waterbottle from her bag. she murmured something along the lines of 'okay, mom.' under her breath before begrudgingly downing her whole water. i spent the entirety of lunch babysitting my friend.

the moment the bell rang, i abandoned laila with her boyfriend and was off to my humble abode. since it was only about 11:15, i decided to get my homework out of the way before lounging around with kiwi and buddy. maybe i'd take him on a walk tomorrow, i don't know yet.

------

walking in the door, i was pleasantly surprised to be greeted by kiwi and buddy. kiwi purred as she rubbed herself against my legs, presumably waiting for me to take off my shoes so she could ruin them once more. buddy on the other hand sat patiently as he waited for me to come pet him and tell him he could act like an normal dog. "jeez, buddy. what does dad do to you?" i asked, petting his head gently as kiwi snuck off with one of my shoes. i set my bag down and went to go change before returning to the kitchen and doing my homework. it was only around noon, so i had some time to kill before school got out. i let out a short whistle as i sat on the couch and watched as buddy raced over to me with enough speed to make my school's track team jealous. he was more than happy to sit next to me while i watched whatever piqued my interest at the moment. i ended up finding a movie to watch; it was an older movie, but i didn't mind. it was worth watching.

by the time the movie ended, buddy was restless and ready to take a walk. he let out a mixture between a bark and a whimper, ushering me to get up. "okay, okay," i chuckled, standing up and grabbing his leash and hooking it onto his collar. i slipped on a pair of slides before letting him out and locking the door behind me. i usually wasn't the one to take buddy on walks– that was my dad's job, and i know the dog got plenty when he went on business trips. speaking of my dad, i decided to call him and see what he was doing.

he finally picked up after a few rings, and i could hear his voice call out my name. "what's up, sweetheart?" he asks, messing around with something in the background. "nothing, just wanted to call and see what you were up to." i said, stopping so buddy could use the bathroom. "oh, you know," he paused, grunting as he lifted something, "just work stuff. what'cha doin? i hear birds; you outside?" he questions. "walking buddy. he misses you." i say, nearing the park. "oh, good. well, i've gotta go. i'll be home soon sweetheart, i promise." he promises, bidding me goodbye. i sigh and tuck my phone in my pocket, going into the dog park portion of the, well, human park? unhooking buddy's collar, i watch as the black dog runs off to go roll around in the grass and use up all of his energy. after a bit of me sitting on a bench and scrolling on my phone, a black great dane sauntered in and immediately ran over to me. he began to sniff at me, giving me pleading eyes as if asking me to pet him.

"hey, bud.." i smiled, scratching behind his ears. someone walked up to me and cleared their throat, causing me to look up. it was a boy with olive skin and black hair, with green eyes that tied everything together. "is this your dog?" i ask, offering him a small smile. why does he look so familiar?

"yes." he says, keeping it short. okay, wow? "uh..well, what's his name?" i ask, feeling the dog rest his head on my lap. seemingly begrudgingly, he gives me his name. "titus." he grumbles, his gaze falling on the dogs head in my lap. "it fits." i say, continuing to smile at him. before the conversation can get any more awkward, yet another boy walks over. "hi! sorry about him." he says, shoving the first boy to the side a bit so he could stand infront of me instead. jesus, they were tall.

"i'm sorry about titus, too. he likes to meet new people." the boy says, adjusting his glasses. behind those glasses are vibrant blue eyes that sit against beige skin with a head of fluffy black hair. "oh, it's okay," i say, lifting titus' head as buddy trots over to me so i can stand up, "what's your name?" i ask, wishing to know the name of my savior. "my name is jon! and this," he pauses, pointing a thumb back at his friend. "is damian." he finishes with a smile. "very fitting names." i say, stealing a glance at the raven haired boy behind him. i gave jon my name before putting buddy's leash back on. "it was nice meeting you, but i have to go. he'll fall asleep on the sidewalk if i don't get him home soon." i laugh, rubbing buddy's side as i waved at them. "i hope to see you around! byee!" jon called after me, turning and saying something to damian after i was put of earshot.

as i walked home, i still couldnt help but feel like damian looked and sounded familiar. i brushed it off and let buddy inside first after unlocking the door and went upstairs to change into my pajamas. turning on the tv, i held kiwi in my lap as i brushed her while the news anchor went on and on about a kitchen fire when the breaking news came on. i looked up, feeling kiwi nibble at my hand as i listened to the woman speak.

"it seems after six grueling years, the serial killer  known as the sundown slasher has struck again. known for skinning the faces of their victims, after sundown and earning their namesake, another body has popped up once again.."

i sighed and muted the TV, looking down at kiwi. i hated this. he was part of the reason my dad had cameras in and outside of the house. for a little bit  of my childhood i was sure the sundown slasher had killed my mom. but once the case went cold, i pushed the thought to the back of my head. shutting off my lamp, the TV was the only thing illuminating my room as kiwi and i laid down. i quickly sent a text to my dad before turning on some random cartoon and slowly dozing off.

[pokemon-ash-aus]

// ramble //

To preface, I do understand the whole issue on AI and theft - and in fact, I've sort-of begun a personal legal study on it and what laws apply and how.

Thing is, I just talk to chatbots when either I'm bored, or all my friends are away. Reliable, predictable, easy to understand - of course, even given its' already sad state of affairs.

Could zone out, but that's a dissociation risk that I don't want to take, and I really don't want to bother my friends in the middle of the night. Plus, could build on some of the ideas and actually flesh them out properly, add a bit of fluff, and remove repetition or happy-go-lucky elements.

Sorry for rambling, just needed to get this out of my head. Dunno who to talk with about this tbh - and don't take me as an AI bro; I'll adapt and seek other people, unlike those posers who think code is better than talent.

AI art gens are still fucking sucky, don't get me wrong, but sometimes things like chatbots can help me understand small mistakes that I would've missed otherwise (e.g. some code, storywriting, some grammer) - of course, they're still chatbots, and can pile on more mistakes. Not to mention, I can't often think in-lore about being in the other char's shoes, so either I bother someone with an RP or I just nab a chatbot, delete the chat after, and go back to what I was doing.

// ramble end //

So you're a loser.

Hard stop, you are deliberately using an AI chat bot instead of doing anything else with your time. You want to fix your grammar mistakes, ya know what's a good tool that doesn't require an Artificial intelligence?

A good Text to Speech.

But Justice, that's also a robot! No, that is a generated text to speech that has been with us since the near conception of computers.

Genuinely, using Text to Speech to find grammar mistakes and pacing is SO good. It helps you listen outloud to something you yourself would overlook. It helps with pacing and run on sentences. It helps with fixing grammar and spelling mistakes and it DOESNT change your current work.

Instead, it allows you to use your own fucking brain to fix your own goddamn mistakes.

All my friends are asleep, Cry me a fucking river.

You dont need to wake up your friends to occupy your time, nor do you need to depend on an AI bot to keep you company. Do you know how sad that sounds?

You know what you can do?

Read a book, read some fanfiction. Watch a movie. Watch youtube. Listen to music. Write. Draw. Go outside and play. Go get something to eat. Etc. Etc.

Dont come rambling in my inbox and not expect me to tear down your arguments when you're being deliberately obtuse.

Researching law about AI my ass. Fuck off.

[heybiji]

hi i found your page cause of your Masks art!!

imma be running a game of masks and was wondering if you have any tips

Oh hello! Very cool you're gonna run a MASKS game, it can be a lot of fun!

I'm not sure how helpful my advice will be since I'm still learning and am not sure how well I actually run the game haha, but for starters there's a whole lot of great advice on Reddit that will help with the mechanics and the structure of the game. In my opinion, the Principles section in the GM part of the core book is critical and succinct and is great advice for running ttrpgs in general.

my top advice is:

"We play to get the next issue picked up!"

Play the game like we want people to buy the next issue and not put the series down! Take chances! Make big choices! Make it interesting! Be bold!!

other things:

Theme. Establish the themes of your story early on. This will help you understand how the world and story should respond to the PCs. And make the themes interesting to you! For example, beyond the general coming-of-age story themes already built into the character arcs, I lean heavily into the concepts of fame, celebrity, and the 24-hour news cycle. And all the things that were going on in the early 2000s.

Be a Fan of the PCs. This is my favorite rule from The Principles. Make sure all your players soak this rule in. The MASKS mechanics mean characters will often make less-than-optimal decisions, so players must feel supported in their character choices. You should be a fan of the characters, and so should your players! They should want to help bring out every character's arc, not just their own.

Treating Human Life as Meaningful is what Makes Threats Real. This is another principle, but yeah, make the world's NPCs feel like they matter, and that will make the world worth protecting. Treat them as people. Give everyone Drives, not just your Villains. Mentally treating even non-villain NPCs as having Conditions can do a lot to help with characterization.

Condense. Condense your world, your NPCs, make the world feel smaller. In our game, for example, having the Protege's mentor also be the same superhero who saved the Delinquent years ago was a great decision.

Playlists. I have a bunch of different playlists for the campaign, from a big one of music of the time (our game is set in 2004) to playlists for important NPCs, to playlists I asked my players to curate for their characters. Music inspires me a bunch, a song can help create a villain for me, and I also like choosing a different "ending" song for every episode based on whatever happened.

Stories. Okay, here's the thing. I don't really care much for superhero stories. Why did I choose to run MASKS, you ask? Because of the emotion-based mechanics. That's my shit. But anyway, I don't take in much superhero media... But I do LOVE movies and television and stories in general, and I think taking in a lot of "short stories" is helpful to develop an instinct on how to pace a story, make a character or moment memorable, etc. And because MASKS has an episodic nature, this is extremely important! The sheer amount of movies I've watched has helped me a whole bunch, since they have to get the Beginning, Middle, and End done within such a short time frame.

Don't Wait. This is an instinct I've picked up from some of my favorite media. Don't wait for The big important moment. Make a lot of big important moments, and make the characters have to make a lot of important choices, and keep the momentum going. Paint yourself into a corner and then force yourself to think of ways out! It makes the story more interesting. (this may not apply to everyone, I get this kind of mindset from shows like Breaking Bad and Succession, which for your story could be too much haha)

Everyone Works. Okay, I am not a benevolent, sweet GM, I will not smile with tears in my eyes and quietly work away and accept that without complaint. no way. I make my players help me a lot. I'm gonna whine. Guys I'm doing so much work! Guys this is hard! Weeehhh! MAKE THEM HELP YOU. RUNNING A GAME IS SOOOOO MUCH WORK OH MY GOD IT'S SOOOOOO MUCH WORK!!! Ask them to take notes! Ask them to treat the world with sincerity! Ask them to make NPCs! Ask them to play NPCs! Ask them to help fill out the world! Ask them to tell you what their character wants to do next so you have extra time to consider it! Ask them to make playlists for their characters to help you figure out how to engage with them! Don't let them just show up on playday!! I'm a "you get what you give" kind of GM. You're a player too and you deserve to enjoy the game as well, and having the other players help you helps a BUNCH. PUT THEM TO WORK.

what else. uh. visuals help a lot with engagement so i subscribed to a bunch of modern battlemap patreons. i run using Foundry which lists the rules upon every roll which is great for me, someone with horrid memory. if you're lucky and favored by god, you'll have a benevolent player that will be the scribe for your sessions and log everything down so they can be referred back to (again, great for someone like me with a horrid memory). remember to give focus to the PC's out-of-costume lives as well. make NPCs in response to your PCs (superheroes, villains, touch on something of a PC in the creation process). be silly. be serious. be sincere.

i'm still figuring out how to run the game, maybe i'll have better advice on a later day, but i hope this can help some! sorry this is longwinded and more a stream of consciousness than it is succinct.

[mrspasser]

Never gonna give you up 5+1

I don't think I ever posted this fanfic here, so I'm here to fix that.

1.

Never was too soon for a repeat of tonight’s experience, Derek decided as he braced himself against the sharp corner. The wheels of the Jeep skidded on the gravel, making the back of the car slide out. There was no need for them to drive this fast, not anymore. Leftover adrenaline made for a heavy foot on the gas, apparently. The engine whined as they cut free of the forest, trading gravel for blacktop. Gradually they reduced speed, until they were driving at a pace well within the limits. 

“Think you can hit play for me, big guy?” Stiles asked in an upbeat tone. “Without getting blood all over my iPod, if you can.”

The look Derek sent him was cutting, but Stiles was long since immune for any angry stare he received from the werewolf. With all his energy going into healing, Derek decided it wasn’t worth it to get into it with Stiles over something so small. He pressed his left hand against the flap of skin that was only loosely covering his ribs on his right side and reached out with his free hand to the battered iPod crammed into the hole that used to house the radio of the Jeep. The radio was one of the car parts that fell victim to the crash with the Kanima and with some help of Boyd Stiles had hooked up his iPod directly to the car’s speakers. 

The Alpha werewolf didn’t bother to check what playlist it was, he just hit the large button in the middle and settled back into his seat, gritting his teeth against the pain the movement caused. 

The sounds of an eighties synthesizer filled the car, drums coming in alternately from the left and right speaker, immediately followed by a peal of laughter from the car’s owner. Derek bit through the agony and pushed forward again, cutting off the music abruptly just when the lyrics started. Stiles didn’t say anything, though it took a minute before he stopped chuckling quietly. 

When they got to the loft, Stiles followed him inside, although Derek hadn’t asked him to. He hadn’t told him not to either, which was probably why the teen did it. Not that Stiles bothered with doing what people told him to, not when it came to Derek. The boy was pack in all the ways that counted, except for heeding his Alpha’s commands.

Derek let himself fall on the threadbare couch, still holding his skin more or less in the right place to knit itself together again. Behind him, Stiles rummaged around in the kitchen, emerging a little while later with two bottles of water and a couple of energy bars. He dropped the food and one of the bottles on the couch next to the werewolf, easily within reach. Then he sat down on the armrest furthest from Derek, twisting the cap of his own bottle and gulping the contents down eagerly. The werewolf watched the boy’s Adams apple bop with each swallow, his eyes catching on the long line of his throat.

Stiles wiped his mouth and looked down at Derek, intelligent eyes roaming over the werewolf’s bloodied torso. “You going to be okay?” he asked, not really sounding like he needed an answer, so Derek didn’t give him one. “Thought so,” the boy confirmed anyway, and patted Derek’s shin twice as he got up. “I’m gonna give Roscoe a wash. I think there are bits of skin stuck to the passenger seat. Gross!”

2. 

“Gonna have to walk a little slower, big guy,” Stiles complained, sounding a little winded as he picked his way through the undergrowth a few paces behind Derek. He grunted dismissively, though he held his step a little anyway.

Derek might have wondered why he was always the one stuck with Stiles on a stake out, if the math wasn’t so easy. Being human, the boy was the weakest of the pack, physically speaking at least. And with Derek as Alpha and therefore strongest, it was only logical that they paired up. Besides, it wasn’t like Derek had his pick of people to go on stakeout with tonight. There wasn’t a clear threat, this was just Derek acting on a hunch. ‘Being paranoid’, Scott had said. ‘I’m not messing up my nails in the woods tonight’, was Erica’s reaction. Boyd had only told him to call when there was trouble. Derek was fully prepared to go alone tonight. It was his idea after all and he was pretty sure he could handle whatever he would encounter. Yet Stiles hadn’t let him. He didn’t offer to tag along, he just did.

When asked, the werewolf would say he hated being alone with Stiles. The boy was never not moving and only silent when sleeping. Scratch that, even asleep Stiles wasn’t silent. He was a source of constant movement, night or day, always in the periphery of Derek’s attention. It was impossible not to watch Stiles, even more so when they were alone.

Walking through the woods at night and trying to keep a low profile was also pretty much impossible with Stiles, a fact proved when Derek grabbed the boy’s elbow not for the first time that night to keep him upright. If it were up to him, he would’ve gladly let him faceplant in the leaves, but they were making enough noise as it was already. 

“Do you think you could be any louder?” he hissed, shoving Stiles along the path. 

“Do you think you could be any rougher?” Stiles threw back in a low voice, rubbing his hand over where Derek had grabbed his arm. He wouldn’t bruise, Derek hadn’t grabbed him that hard; chances were he was just sour about missing out on game night with Scott. He’d heard them talking about it yesterday, Stiles lamenting about him and Scott needing a boy’s night with pizza, energy drinks and playing video games in their underwear. Derek didn’t understand why Stiles would choose a night in the woods with him over that.

“Now what?” Stiles stopped at the ridge, looking out into the forest on the hill below them.

“Now we wait,” Derek answered, dropping down into a crouch and tugging the boy down with him. Stiles fell to his butt with a grunt, but pulled his legs under him a moment later, jostling Derek’s shoulder when he came up to his knees. 

“You see anything?” Derek didn’t answer that, nor the next question: “Hear anything?”

Stiles rolled his eyes at the werewolf’s lack of communication and then shrugged his backpack off. He pulled the bag in front of him and opened up the zipper. At first Derek ignored the apple that was presented to him, but Stiles only shook it in emphasis until he took it. 

For a few minutes, Stiles was as quiet as he ever got. Which meant that the sounds of him chewing on his own apple mixed in with the sounds of the forest. 

When the humming started, Derek shut him up at first. It helped for a few minutes, but not long. Because the wind was in their favour, Derek gave up on shushing Stiles: it was easier to just tune him out and concentrate on the sounds that reached him from the forest. 

It took a good while before the words showed up in his mind. Bits and pieces of song lyrics just floating around his brain, easy to ignore. It wasn’t until he caught himself starting to hum the same tune that he rounded on the boy next to him. “Damn it, Stiles!”

Stiles simply laughed softly. “It’s quite the earworm, isn’t it?”

3.

“Give me a second, I’m just gonna… Yeah, I’ve got it all right here,” Stiles said through the phone, clicking around on his computer. “Whole list of it, actually. I’ll send you an email right now.”

Derek hung up the phone and grabbed the laptop from the coffee table. It was a refurbished laptop that Stiles had made him buy a few weeks ago, claiming that ‘no self-respectable Alpha in the twenty first century could go without, especially if they don’t want to say goodbye to their frigging flip phone’. 

The mockery of his phone by his pack was getting old. The device maybe wasn’t as up to date as the other phones, but it held up in a fight and that was something Derek valued more over the use of the latest social media apps. However, contrary to popular belief, Derek wasn’t completely unaware of pop culture, which was why he immediately recognised the video for what it was.

It was hidden in the list of websites Stiles sent him. Derek was working his way through the links one by one, working up a steady appreciation of Stiles' research skills, when his laptop suddenly started playing music after he clicked the fourth link on the list. 

He almost called Stiles to tell him off, but settled for aggressively closing down the browser window. 

The other links were all normal, providing him with the information he asked for and then some. 

4.

“You want anything, hon?” The waitress directed the question to Scott, who placed his order of a large breakfast spread with an equally large smile. She wasn’t placated by it and Derek resigned himself to giving her an extra big tip for putting up with his raucous pack on her early morning shift. 

“I’m so hungry, I could eat a horse,” Stiles said to the table at large, patting his stomach. 

“Should’ve ordered something else than bacon then,” Isaac deadpanned from across from him.

Stiles smiled impishly. “My love for bacon is strong, I can’t help it.”

“Can you make bacon from horses?” Scott wondered out loud and that set off a whole discussion about the consummation of horse meat.

Derek let it all wash over him, leaning back in his chair. His pack was fine, all were whole, or whole again at least. Isaac was wearing a track shirt that Stiles had lying in the back of his Jeep, replacing his own shirt that was ripped to pieces. There was blood on his jeans still, Derek could smell it from across the table, but it wasn’t visible against the dark fabric and the wounds were all healed. Erica sported a similar situation, also with mostly invisible bloodstains on her dark clothes, as did Boyd. The blood wasn’t all theirs. Normally, Derek would have told them to go home, wash up, but this Denny’s was closer and growling stomachs had won over the urge to get cleaned up. Or rather, Stiles had strongarmed him into buying his pack breakfast, saying that it was good for bonding and empty stomachs alike.

Not bothering to get in on the conversation, Derek let his eyes glide over his pack members, ensuring himself once again that everyone was in one piece. He got stuck on Stiles, distracted by the way his T-shirt pulled taut when he moved his arms behind his back to stretch. Derek hadn’t seen the article of clothing before, it had been hidden underneath a grey striped hoodie; he guessed that was ruined too. It was a black T-shirt with a jumble of letters and symbols on the front. It looked like computer code, or something equally confusing. Undoubtedly it was some pop culture reference, or a bad pun. He didn’t care enough to ask for the meaning of it, yet his eyes kept returning to the text on the shirt, even after their food arrived. 

He recognised a word in the top line from the abbreviations the pack used in their text messages; sometimes it was as if they were allergic to vowels. The letters ‘nvr’ probably spelled never. And below that, was the word ‘annog’, which could be a made up word or it was simply ‘gonna’ spelled backwards. Then it said ‘forgive’, subtract four, and on the bottom something with ‘me’, ‘you’ and ‘splitting soup’. It was complete nonsense, that’s what it was.

Eventually, Stiles caught him looking. “You like the shirt, big guy?” He took a bite of a strip of bacon, cocking his head as he waited for Derek to answer.

“It’s ridiculous. It doesn’t even make sense.”

Stiles grinned. “Sure it does. You just have to figure it out.”

Next to him, Boyd took a look at Stiles’ shirt and scoffed. “Isn’t that joke ancient by now?”

“Classics never go out of style,” Stiles argued, pointing the strip of bacon at Derek’s second. “Besides, I like it. It’s got meaning.”

“Like your stripper mom’s T-shirt?” Erica asked snidely. “Because that one’s just rubbish.”

“Nah,” Stiles smirked and then he winked at Derek. “This one has a better roll to it, doesn’t it, oh Alpha mine?”

It clicked for Derek in that moment and he let out a long suffering sigh. “I should rip your throat out…” 

“With your teeth, I know,” Stiles finished for him, happily munching on another strip of bacon.

5.

Up until now Derek had always thought that brownies were something to eat, not annoying little creatures to kill. Or, well, that’s not exactly true. He knew they were mythical creatures, but he’d thought they were just that. Mythical, not real. And how bad could they be if they ended up being real? Pretty damn annoying, it turned out. They didn’t look like much, but they had razor sharp teeth and equally sharp nails that cut through clothes and skin like miniature knives through butter. And like a wolf pack, their strength was in numbers. However, he refused to lose to something small and annoying, so, in the end, the wolf pack won. 

Derek looked around at his pack, who were panting and bloody, but otherwise okay. Erica was frantically raking her fingers through her hair, cursing angrily at the loose hairs she brushed out with it. “Those fuckers cut a chunk of my hair!”

Boyd diligently looked at the problem area, declaring it wasn’t so bad. Erica huffed in disdain. “No offence, honey, but you haven’t got a hair on your head. What the hell do you pretend to know about it?”

She turned to the other available girl, Allison, and let the hunter fuss over her hair. Derek was long past the point of wondering how the hell that happened. His pack included a hunter, a banshee and a former kamina, he'd learned to not question it anymore.

He patted his pockets, routinely checking for his car keys. Those he found, though they threatened to fall through a tear in his jeans any minute. He came up short when feeling around for his phone. The pocket on that side was cut clean through, empty of its contents. Derek rumbled in annoyance, getting a quick inquiring glance from Boyd. 

"Lost my phone," he explained quickly, already stalking back to the area where he'd been for most of the fight. It was where Stiles was sitting, sagged out against a tree and scrolling through something on his phone. The boy was holding the cuff of his sleeve pressed gingerly against a small cut above his lip, otherwise he seemed fine and Derek didn't have to worry about him.

Sniffing out his phone turned out to be harder than he thought. The ground was covered in quickly disintegrating brownie bodies and while he could appreciate the lack of clean up they would have to do, the smell of decay and blood covered up the other smells in the area.

Derek planted his hands on his hips with a huff, scanning the forest floor around him. His phone was black and pretty small: it could be anywhere. He glanced at the smartphone in Stiles' hand, with its shiny firetruck red cover. Obnoxious and flashy as it was, it would be pretty easy to find.

"What's up, big guy?" Stiles asked from his spot by the tree. "Looking for something?"

"Dropped my phone," Derek sighed, already making plans in his head to drop by the mall in the next town over to get a new phone. He wondered if they still sold flip phones. 

"Oh wait, I'll call you so we can hear it ring," Stiles said, clambering to his feet and moving his fingers over his touch screen.

Sure enough, moments later there was a song playing, a few meters to his left. "That's not my ringtone," Derek said sharply, his eyebrows climbing up to his hairline when he recognised the song.

“It is when I call,” Stiles answered gleefully, watching as Derek went off in the direction of the sound. The warm baritone of the singer was cut off when the werewolf bent down to retrieve his phone, buried half underneath a dead brownie. He wiped it on his jeans and then flipped it open. 

“Hey, what are you doing?” Stiles called out.

“Figuring out how to delete this ringtone,” Derek bit out, tapping the keys forcefully. 

“Hey, no, why would you do that?” Stiles ambled closer and for a moment Derek forgot to tune out his scent. It was a habit that his mother had taught him when he was young; with their keen sense of smell and hearing there was little privacy in a pack: it was common courtesy to try and tune the others out as much as possible in normal, day to day interactions. Derek did it with his own pack too, as much out of self-preservation as in consideration of their privacy. His pack consisted of teenagers, they were generally a whirlwind of strong emotions and unwarranted arousal. He would get whiplash if he’d be able to scent it all. Right now, Stiles smelled of disappointment and vague embarrassment. 

Derek frowned. “Because it’s a cheesy song. A joke.”

The smell of embarrassment got a little stronger. “It’s our thing,” Stiles said with a shrug that wasn’t as casual as he probably hoped. “It’s our song, sourwolf” he tacked on with a smirk, also a bit strained.

“It’s a love song,” Derek said slowly, puzzled, his fingers stilling on the phone keys. It wasn’t like he knew how to change the ringtone anyway. Before now he didn’t even know you could add personalised ringtones to a caller.

“Yeah, well…” Stiles cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. He was also getting quite red in the face, yet still Derek couldn’t look away from him. “It’s the sentiment that counts.”

“The sentiment,” Derek repeated, still confused by the situation.

“The sentiment, you know, the message? The idea the song conveys?”

“I know what sentiment means, Stiles,” he said, more gently than he usually was with the teen. “But still… a love song.”

“I know that,” said Stiles, still with red cheeks. “And I know that we,” he gestured with his hand between them, “are not… that.”

Derek pressed down on the sudden urge to ask what exactly they were, if not that. 

“I just think that, it’s just,” Stiles floundered and then he shrugged somewhat defeated. “It’s something that you need to hear, every now and then.” A silence fell between them, one loaded with something Derek couldn’t quite figure out. Not yet.

Stiles took a deep breath and held out his hand. “Give me that, I’ll change it back to your normal, boring ringtone.”

Derek shook his head and put his phone in his jacket pocket, a pocket that was still in one piece. With a nudge to Stiles' shoulder he started to walk away, towards the spot where they parked their cars. Stiles followed him, smelling content and happy, with his lips pressed together to hide a smile.

+1

Derek hadn’t known he had a first aid kit in his bathroom. Yet there it was, neatly tucked away in the cabinet underneath the sink. The rectangle box felt heavy, like it was stuffed full with all kinds of items a self-healing werewolf would never need. 

“Why do I have this?” Derek asked as he walked back into the room, knowing for sure he never bought it, so someone else had to. Someone named Stiles, probably. 

“Because you have humans in your pack,” Stiles answered from the sofa, making grabby hands at the kit before Derek was even close enough. He took the box, putting it in his lap and opening it immediately. “There should be ice packs in the fridge,” Stiles directed without looking up.

And indeed there were. Derek grabbed two and a towel, making his way back to Stiles. He carefully sat down by the foot that the boy had put up on the sofa. His sneaker was already off, but he still had his sock on. The werewolf carefully placed the ice packs on both sides of Stiles’ swollen ankle, wrapping them in place with the towel. 

Meanwhile, Stiles was wrapping his arm up. It was his lower left arm, making it not too hard for him to do himself; the bandage was a little wonky, but it’d do for now. It was just a large scrape anyway, the bandage was mostly to keep the wound clean. 

That left the cut on his eyebrow. Derek watched Stiles feeling around the cut with his fingers of his one hand, while holding a butterfly bandage with his other. It wouldn’t work, but he waited until Stiles grimaced and locked eyes with him, a crooked, bloody butterfly bandage still in hand. 

Derek leaned forward and picked a clean bandage from the kit. “This one, right?”

Stiles nodded and kept his eyes on Derek when he scooted closer until he was seated next to the boy’s hip. The cut was already cleaned and disinfected, all that was left was to place the bandage. Maybe two, Derek thought, as he eyed the cut critically. Stiles had said it wasn’t deep enough to warrant stitches and he’d gotten hurt often enough to know, Derek presumed. It didn’t sit easy with him, though. He didn’t like to see his pack get hurt, especially the humans because they didn’t heal as quickly as the werewolves did. And, he didn’t like seeing Stiles get hurt. 

Derek carefully placed the butterfly bandage across the cut. Stiles smelled of blood and pain, though the boy assured him the latter was mostly from his ankle. Spraining an ankle hurt, Derek knew from experience, even though for him the pain was always short lived. Stiles closed his eyes as Derek put a second bandage in place and covered them with a larger bandaid. “There, that should do it.” 

“Thanks,” Stiles said softly as Derek put everything back in the kit and quickly tidied away the mess. 

“Want to watch a movie?” The question came somewhat unexpected for Stiles, yet he smiled and nodded quickly. Derek tossed him the remote so he could select a movie from the streaming services the boy had set up himself a while back and went into the kitchen to grab them something to drink. 

When he came back Stiles had a superhero movie lined up, one that Derek hadn’t seen yet but he knew Stiles had. He pulled the coffee table closer to the sofa so Stiles could reach his drink and then sat down, carefully placing Stiles' injured foot in his lap. The boy’s heartbeat ticked up and his cheeks coloured red, yet he didn’t say anything. Derek nodded for him to press play on the movie and gently eased his hand a little ways up Stiles’ pant leg, just above the ice packs, to make skin contact and leach away his pain. 

“Thanks for coming back,” Stiles said quietly over the sounds of the opening scene. “And taking care of me.”

Derek glanced at him, at the way Stiles held his eyes glued to the tv screen to avoid looking at him directly. He waited a beat for Stiles to take a sip of his soda. “That goes without saying, Stiles,” he emphasised then. “I wasn’t gonna run around and desert you.”

Stiles made a choking sound and sprayed his drink everywhere. Derek kept his foot in place while the boy flailed and laughed, wiping the soda from his face with his sleeve. “Damn it, Derek! It came out of my nose!”

You can also find this fic here on Wattpad or on A03.

[meraki-yao]

RWRB As A Sit-Com

This came out of nowhere but I’m suddenly imagining RWRB as a sit-com? The ones that cut away to the characters breaking the fourth wall and talk directly to the audience?

Like it’s never gonna happen but picture this (or rather, picture these)

1, Buckingham Reception Line

After Henry ignores Alex’s greeting and directly walks away

Cut to Alex alone in the reception hallway, aggravated

ALEX: If you combined the world’s highest possible level of white privilege, nepotism and arrogance together, Prince Henry is what you would get. He has been an absolute dick to me literally since our very first meeting. I mean seriously, what did I ever do to him?

Cut to Henry alone in the reception hallway with a pinched, nervous smile

HENRY: Oh he has no idea about the sheer amount of agony he’s caused me. And he will never, ever, know.

2, Oscar and Alex on the White House Balcony

After Oscar asks Alex about why he doesn’t like Henry

Cut to Oscar alone on the balcony

OSCAR: Alex has a tendency to pull the pigtails of the people he likes. It’s how he got his first girlfriend in grade school. So this little rivalry he has with the prince? Yeah, I’m not buying that bullshit for a second.

3, The first kiss

After Henry runs off after the kiss, leaving Alex standing in place, watching Henry leave with confusion and awe.

Cut to Alex alone under the Linden tree

ALEX: So… that happened. Yeah… When I went back to the party Henry and Percy were nowhere to be seen.  

Cut to Henry and Pez in the cabin of a private plane, Henry with his face in his hands, letting out a muffled high-pitched scream. Pez pats him consolingly on his back.

ALEX: I’m not nearly sober enough to process this fully but… (licks lips) this has definitely given me something to think about. A lot, to think about.

4, Alex and Nora in the office

After Alex says “I don’t know” when Nora lists out all of his interactions with Henry.

Cut to Nora sitting in her office on her office chair.

NORA: Okay, so discovering your sexuality, coming out, feelings and relationships in general are all very personal subjects and everyone should take it at their own pace. That being said, sometimes I look at this obvious idiot and go ‘COME ON MAN’

5, Red Room

After Amy walks on Alex and Henry making out

Cut to Amy in the Red Room, parade rest position

AMY: I pride myself in being a professional and during my career I’ve seen a lot of things and somehow that, was the biggest shock I’ve ever experienced. Kids these days. (sighs)

6, First Night Hook-Up

After Henry goes down on Alex and the close-up of Alex sighing.

Cut to Alex on the couch in his bedroom, shirt open, belt unbuckled, looking dishevelled and flushed.

ALEX: So… maybe I was wrong and a little over-confident when I groped Henry’s ass in front of the political leaders of our respective countries, one of which gave birth to me, and then said that I was going to do some very bad things to him. … That did not happen, the opposite did. In every sense of the word. (leans back and lets out a satisfied groan) But Holy. Shit.

Cut to Henry hastily wiping his mouth, equally unkempt but with all his clothes on.

HENRY: Well I mean I’ve only been fantasising about this moment for ages. Plus his confidence although perhaps misplaced, was very cute. (giggles)

7, Zahra finds Henry in the closet

After Zahra opens the closet to find Henry in it, and everyone kind of just stares at each other

Cut to Henry, flustered, sitting on the hotel bed

HENRY: Fuck.

Cut to Alex standing next to the closet, panicked

ALEX: Fuck!

Cut to Zahra in the middle of the living room, enraged

ZAHRA: WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK. When I told that little shit to play nice with the prince and “act like the sunshine out of his ass and you have a vitamin D deficiency”, I DID NOT TELL HIM TO TAKE THAT LITERALLY. Oh God now I have an image in my head of that WHY—

Like just picture it, please tell me I'm not the only one that sees the vision

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his girl - ch. 4

This is still not explicit, only fluff and some angst and a smidgen of blood. But I'm also just gonna assume you're all 18+, next chapter is definitely smut heavy so just leave now if you're a minor.

Chapter 4 clocks in at 5.2 k for those of you keeping count.

Please enjoy 😘

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi

Chapter 5

“Where the fuck is Fish?” Pope growls, looking at his watch again, “he was the one who said to meet here at noon in the first place.”

“Probably still in bed with the girl from the bar,” Benny grins, leaning back against his truck. “Call him again.” 

For the fourth time Pope lets the signals ring until it goes to voicemail. “Still no answer,” he mutters, staring down the street, trying to make Frankie turn up out of nowhere and shakes his head. “Ok, you two go ahead, I’ll swing by his place and kick him out of bed. We’ll see you at the trailhead, if not, I’ll call you.” Pope pushes himself off the side of the truck and goes over to his own car. 

…

Cursing Frankie under his breath, Pope climbs the stairs to his apartment and bangs on the door. “Fish, rise and shine, pendejo!” 

When there’s no response he bangs again, hitting the doorbell too, “Come on, Frankie, we’ve been waiting for you for forty five minutes, get your shit together, man.” He bangs the door again for good measure and finally hears shuffling behind it. It swings open on Frankie, wearing the same shirt and jeans as last night, bleary eyed and pale looking. 

“Jeez, Frankie, you look like shit, what happened to you?” Pope asks as Frankie turns around, leaving the door open and retreating back into the apartment. “Is that blood on your shirt?” 

He finds Frankie sitting on the couch in the living room, an empty bottle of whiskey on the coffee table, Pope recognises it as the one he gave Frankie for his birthday a few months ago. Frankie’s got his elbows on his knees, rubbing his hands across his face and staring at his feet, looking nothing like the happy guy they’d sent on his way to see the girl last night. 

“I guess the night didn’t end as you hoped,” Pope says, sinking down onto the arm of the couch. 

Frankie shakes his head, elbows still on his knees.

“So you decided to beat someone up and drown yourself in expensive whiskey? Or is that your blood?” 

“I fucked up, Pope, I really fucked up.” Frankie sucks in a deep breath and leans back against the couch, knuckling his eyes, “She’s gone, I scared her off and she doesn't want to see me again.” 

“What do you mean you scared her off, what happened?” 

“I blacked out, beat up some guy who slapped her, we were at this bar, and she looked at me like I was a fucking monster, I scared the shit out of her and she left, told me not to follow her,” Frankie groans and buries his head in his hands again at the memory. 

“Fuck, Frankie, I’m sorry, dude,” Pope sighs, reaching out and putting his hand on his friends shoulder. 

“I really fucking like her, she’s fucking amazing but of course I fuck it up,” Frankie berates himself, “I can never leave that shit behind, it just always comes back and now I’ve gone and fucked it up for her too.” Frankie stands up and paces across the living room before stopping in the middle, looking down at his bruised hand, “Maybe it’s better if I just stay away, keep my shit away from her, she’s too good to drag into my shitshow.”

“Fish, come on, man, we’ve all got baggage, yours is just heavier than most peoples. Does she know about your background? How it’s been since you left the army?” 

“Only that I was in Delta Force, but I don’t know if she knows what that means. I mean, we’ve only been on one proper date and I didn’t wanna burden her with all my shit on the first date, you know?” 

“Yeah, of course, Frankie,” Pope says, standing up, “Let me get us some coffee, you’ve got some in the kitchen? Maybe we can figure this out, if she’s as great as you say then maybe you can talk to her, explain what happened, give her some background? Let her decide if she wants to be a part of the Frankie Morales shitshow.” Pope claps him on the shoulder, giving him what he hopes is an encouraging smile. 

Pope moves into the small galley kitchen and Frankie shuffles in behind him, pulling out the coffee from a cupboard. 

“I don’t know, you didn’t see the way she looked at me. I had the guy's blood on my neck and she just stared at it. I was trying to see if she was ok and she just backed away from me, like I was gonna hurt her.” Frankie groans at the memory, “Fuck, fuck, fuck! It was going too fucking well, it felt so good! I’m such a fucking fuck up!” Frankie slams his fists down on the counter, groaning loudly.  

“Frankie, I’m gonna say what I said the night she gave you her number; you’re a great guy, and she’ll see that, again, if you just give her a chance.” Pope switches on the coffee maker and leans against the counter. “Send a text at least, say you’ve got some baggage from your army days, that you didn’t mean to scare her and that you’d like to see her again, if she wants to, and explain why you reacted the way you did. You’ve got nothing to lose by it.” 

Frankie rubs his hand over his face for what feels like the hundredth time since he woke from the half unconscious slumber he’d fallen into last night after downing too much whiskey. All he kept seeing was her face, the look of fear as she backed away, her arms falling from his grip and the feeling of lead that settled in his stomach as he realised what she was doing. 

“Seriously, Fish, if she doesn’t agree to at least let you explain what happened, she’s not worth it.” 

Pope shoves a cup of black coffee into his hand and tells him to drink it and take a shower. 

“I’m taking you up to the trail, get that alcohol out of your system, and work off the energy that I can see is eating you alive.” He grabs Frankie’s arm, trying to push his message into him. “Text her, tell her and apologise. If she’s as great as you say, she’ll see past one mistake.” 

…

They talk about heartache, but in reality it’s your stomach that feels it, when something’s wrong. That heavy feeling bordering on nausea that sits in the pit of your belly as you wake up on Saturday morning. The memories from last night don’t need to be recalled, they sit at the forefront of your mind, you’ve gone over them in your mind all night, leaving you with no rest. 

Sophia sees it straight away as you arrive, late, to Lizzy’s parents house, the preparation venue for the bride and her bridesmaids. Your eyes puffy from too little sleep and too much crying, your smile weak and slipping away as soon as Lizzy turns back to her hair stylist. Sophia grabs your hand and pulls you away from the rest of the girls, into the small study at the back of the house. 

“Sweetie, what happened? Don’t tell me he dumped you? I’m gonna fucking kill him!” Sophia has her hands on your upper arms, searching your face for answers and you feel tears start to well up again. Sophia pulls you into one of her big hugs and you gratefully bury your face against her shoulder, not caring that you’re getting salt and snot on her shirt. She holds you steady, her hands stroking your back as she mumbles about how no guys is ever worth crying over, how she’s going to murder “Francisco fucking Morales” and dump the body in the deepest pit of Cefn Coed. The last bit draws a weak chuckle from you as you remember your trip to Wales two years ago, with Sophia and Carys. 

“Told you it would make a good place for nasty ex-boyfriends,” Sophia smiles at you as she pushes you back a bit to take a look at your face. “Tell me what happened, did he dump you?” 

“No, I dumped him,” you sigh, sinking down into the chair that Sophia points you to as she sits on the big writing desk. 

“Why did you dump him?” she asks, “Everything seemed so good yesterday?” 

“We went to a bar after we left the restaurant. We had a couple of drinks and then I went to the ladies and this guy groped my ass as I came out of it. When I slapped his hand away he grabbed my arm and pulled me around, you know, usual creep.” 

Sophia nods and you squeeze your eyes shut as the memories of what happened next flood your brain. 

“Frankie, he…he just…he beat the guy up, like, properly beat him up. Pulled him away from me, shoved him against the wall and punched him twice. The guy’s nose broke and blood just went flying and then I think he passed out, he just kinda fell to the floor and didn’t get up.” 

“Holy shit!” Sophia gasps. “He did not look like a violent guy when I met him, I can’t believe he would do something like that!”

“That wasn’t even the worst part,” you murmur, rubbing your knuckles across your eyes before Sophia gently pulls your hands away from your face. “When he did it, his face…it was furious at first, but then when he punched the guy there was no emotion and he didn’t even react when the blood started, like he didn’t even notice that he broke the guy’s nose. He had blood on his knuckles and on his shirt and on his fucking skin and he didn’t even care!” Your voice breaks and fresh tears spill over. 

“Fuck…” Sophia whispers.  

“When the guy was down he grabbed my arms and asked me if I was ok and I think, maybe he was worried, but I couldn’t focus. I just remember seeing the blood on his neck and his knuckles and how scared I was. I mean, I don’t really know him that well, he’s just some random guy from a bar, and he seemed so nice but then he just turns around and is so cold and violent, you know? Who the fuck acts like that?” You look up at Sophia, “It was surreal, seeing this sweet guy, he’s been nothing but so sweet and nice and a little bit shy, and then suddenly he’s like a totally different person.” 

“Seeing that guy grab you must’ve made him snap somehow,” Sophia says, “do you know what could’ve done it? Is he a cop or does he have like a background in martial arts or something?”

“He mentioned being in the army for several years, he flew helicopters.” You think back to your conversation in the chopper on Sunday. “He was in something called Delta Force but he didn’t want to talk about it. It didn’t seem like a good memory.” 

“Delta Force is some serious shit though, my uncle was with them for years, he never wanted to talk about it but my dad said he suffered from PTSD and that’s why he left.” Sophia takes your hand and pulls you up from the chair, “Come on, we need some tea, and we’ll talk through your next move. I think what he did is seriously fucked up but maybe this army stuff has got something to do with it.” 

True to her adopted homeland Sophia plies you with strong, sweet tea in the mercifully empty kitchen. Only her wife Carys wanders in and gets a run down of the whole story as you sip the hot brew. 

“Ordinarily, I’d say forget him, he sounds like a psychopath based on what he did.” Carys says in her usual direct manner, “but you say you've not seen any other warning signs, no other red flags, right?” 

“No, nothing like it, that’s why it was such a shock,” you agree. 

“So I think you should hear him out if he wants to offer an explanation. Message him and say you want him to explain what the fuck happened.” Carys says. 

“No,” Sophia shakes her head, “don’t message him, he fucked up, he should message you. If he’s serious about you he should be the one to make the first move now. He needs to fucking man up and own his mistake.” 

You draw a deep, slightly shaky, breath, trying to decide what to do, both women looking at you with concern.

“This is what I’m going to do,” you decide, “I’m going to go wash my face, forget about Francisco fucking Morales for the day and enjoy Lizzy’s wedding. I’ll think about him on Monday, if he hasn’t been in touch then…then I don’t know, I’ll decide on Monday.” 

“Sounds like a plan,” Sophia nods in agreement, “And we’re here until Thursday if you need us, sweetie.” 

…

It turns out you don’t need to wait until Monday to think about Frankie. During the wedding ceremony you feel your phone buzz in your handbag but you don’t get a chance to look at it until half way through the reception. Sophia and Carys have taken upon themselves to make sure you’re never alone with your thoughts during the whole day so when you finally pick up your phone, Sophia throws you a quizzical look. 

“Is it from him?” 

“Yeah, but I don’t know if I should read it now,” you’re looking down at the screen with Frankie’s name. 

“Rip the band-aid off,” Sophia says, “or you’re just going to think about it for the rest of the night.” 

You chew on your bottom lip, thinking about what to do, and the motion reminds you of Sunday morning, Frankie’s thumb gently tugging your lip from between your teeth. You’re gonna draw blood, hermosa. When you close your eyes you can see his warm smile, the soft brown eyes under the peak of his cap, unruly curls around his ears. Your thumb taps the passcode on your phone of its volition.

“hi, if you dont reply to this I totally get it, i know you said you needed to think. I just wanted to say im really sorry about last night and i feel like shit, i know i really scared you with what i did. Ive got some baggage from the army that i thought i had under control but i guess not. I understand if you dont wanna see me again but for what its worth i think youre really special and i love being with you and if youll let me id like a chance to tell you about the army stuff. Its not an excuse but maybe an explanation for my overreaction /Frankie” 

“Ok, first, he writes like he’s in middle school,” Sophia says, reading over your shoulder, “what’s up with that?” 

“He hasn’t figured out how to do capital letters and apostrophes on his phone yet,” you smile, “the guy flies helicopters for a living but can’t work a smartphone keyboard.” 

“You didn’t say he flew helicopters for a living, that’s kinda hot,” Sophia’s eyebrows are raised in approval. “What do you think though, do you want to see him again?” 

“I do, I really do, but I don’t know if I should.” 

Carys spots Sophia and you hunched over the phone and comes over, three champagne flutes in her hands. 

“I take it he texted you?” 

You show her the message and she shakes her head as she deciphers Frankie’s text.  

“He writes like an imbecile but I say you let him sweat tonight, message him in the morning when you’ve slept on it.” 

“Yeah, always best to sleep on it, don’t make a decision with too much champagne in your system,” Sophia gives you a comforting smile and hands you one of the glasses. 

“You’re probably right, I should let him stew,” you agree and take a sip. The music has started up, Lizzy and Steve are whirling around the dance floor surrounded by friends and family, looking every bit like the happy newlyweds. 

“I remember this song from our wedding,” Sophia giggles, “we got Shane to twerk, remember? His kilt was not long enough for that.” 

“Oh god, I know I’ve got that on film somewhere,” you laugh as Sophia and Carys start dancing, twerking badly in imitation. 

“Go on, go dance with your wife,” you tell Sophia as they start twirling around each other, “you don’t need to babysit me all night.” 

“You sure, babe?” 

You nod and wave them towards the dance floor, “It’s just men troubles, won’t kill me.” 

“If only you’d change your poison, love, I’d have a queue of women waiting for you in London.” Carys smiles at you as Sophia pulls her onto the floor. 

…

“Fish, stop checking your fucking phone, she’s not gonna reply faster just because you stare at it.” 

Frankie throws a grim look at Benny but puts his phone back in his pocket. His head is still pounding, two aspirin, coffee and a bottle of water had only dulled the pain, and now he’s being forced to hike with the guys through this hot fucking forest. Granted, it had been his idea but that was back when he thought he’d need to kill as much time as possible while waiting to see her again. Now he’s jumping every time he thinks his phone pings. 

It’d taken him the whole drive up here to write the text, Pope giving him input, driving for once as Frankie was in no shape to operate any vehicle. He finally hit send and now he was stewing, several hours later. She was at the wedding, he knew that, and he knew she was in the wedding party so she probably didn’t even have her phone on, but still, he kept checking the reception on his phone every ten minutes. 

“The creek is coming up, anyone up for a swim?” Pope calls out from the front, looking back at the three guys behind him. 

“Sounds like a plan, I’m fucking boiling,” Benny says, “let’s take a break for a few minutes. Give Fish another chance to check that his phone is working.” 

“Fuck off,” Frankie throws back at him. 

He hasn’t told the other two what happened last night, they just think that he’s waiting for her to reply to a regular text. They don’t know that his stomach feels like lead and every time the conversation stops his mind wanders back to how she looked at him with fear just before she left last night. And how she felt when he kissed her in the bar just before she left for the ladies room. He feels like his head is going to split whenever he touches on the thought that it could’ve been the last time he kissed her. Her lips were so soft against his own, the taste of her tongue, alcohol, hot sauce from the wings they’d ordered, and something that he was starting to recognise as just her. The sweet look she’d thrown at him over her shoulder as she walked across the bar to the ladies, that smile that had made his heart stop a week ago when she walked into The Outback Bar. 

He’s pulled from his thoughts by Pope’s slap on his shoulder. 

“Come on, hemano, a swim will clear your head of that hangover.” 

…

Keeping Frankie out of your head was harder than you’d tried to make Sophia and Carys think. It feels like your phone is burning a hole in your bag, you take it out several times, re-reading Frankie’s text. When one of Stevie’s friends starts hitting on you, you make an excuse about needing the ladies and lock yourself in one of the stalls, pulling out your phone again. Reading his message again you start typing a reply before your brain has time to register what you’re doing. 

“You really scared me last night, you were the last person I expected to suddenly beat up a guy and the way you did it, like it was so easy, freaked me out. I really like you too but seeing you turn into someone else so different and violent, it scared me. But…I know you said something about being in Delta Force and that it was something you wanted to tell me about later. I feel like I maybe owe it to you to hear you out. Sunday at five pm at the coffee shop?” 

You hit send before you change your mind and close your eyes, the music from the dance floor thumping through the walls of the ladies room. 

Frankie’s reply comes through just a minute later. 

“thank you so much, i know i really scared you and i feel like shit about it. ill be there at five tomorrow” 

Frankie’s looking down at his phone, his hand shaking slightly as he re-reads her message and his reply. She wants to see him again, she’ll let him explain, it’s a tiny lifeline but he’ll take it. He puts away the phone and looks up, Pope’s got his eyes on him, gives him a questioning look, Frankie nods and gives him a quick thumbs up. 

…

For Sunday morning Lizzy has booked the spa at the hotel where the wedding is at so by the time you’ve made it through the brunch afterwards, you feel a bit more like yourself. Before you leave the hotel with your overnight bag, you seek out Sophia and Carys, they know you’re meeting Frankie in a few hours and have offered to be on standby afterwards. Carys suggests tea, Sophia offers wine and access to Cefn Coed, should you need it. 

The afternoon is warm and you find Frankie sitting at the same table out back as last time. This time he doesn’t look relaxed, he’s hunched over, hands clasped tightly and hanging down between his legs. He seems to sense you coming closer, lifting his head and looking up at you from under his cap. His eyes make you want to drop everything and just wrap your arms around him straight away, his eyebrows are tightly knotted together over eyes that are filled with stress and anxiety. He stands when you come up to the table, slow and awkward, looking like he’s not sure he’s even allowed to be there. 

“Hi, Frankie,” you say, your heart clenching tight at the way he looks at you. 

“Hi,” he says, his voice low and unsure of itself. “Thanks for coming, for talking to me,” he says, his hand shooting up to rub the back of his neck. By the way his curls are standing on end around his neck, you can tell it’s not the first time he’s done that today. He pulls out the other chair for you, just like he did last Sunday, and sits down after you’ve sat down. 

The waiter comes over almost immediately and you order coffee, grateful for the pause, before the real conversation has to start. 

“So…” you say as the waiter leaves, “start from the beginning?” 

Frankie sighs and draws a deep breath, “I just wanna say something first, before I tell you about all the shit I come with,” he’s been looking down at his hands but now his eyes find yours, “I really like you, I love hanging out with you and I fucking love the way you make me feel when I’m with you. I just wanted to say that to you once, at least, if you leave here and I never see you again.” 

You could kiss him right then, his face is so tense, and you can see the anguish in how he clenches his jaw, his fingers rubbing on each other. 

“I really like you too, Frankie, that’s why I’m here,” you admit, “I don’t want to regret not hearing you out.” 

Frankie gives you the smallest of smiles and then he starts talking.

He talks more than you’ve ever heard him talk before, it’s like the words just pour out of him once he’s decided to share it all. How he joined the army to fly helicopters, straight out of high school, the training, being selected for Delta Force, the friendships he made during the brutality of their missions, the people he killed, the friends he lost, some left behind, some dying in front of him. Pushing down the side of him that told him what they did wasn’t right. How he found ways to numb the pain, to become harder and stronger, to be a better soldier, to get through missions alive, to keep the men he served with alive, to protect them and have their backs, get them out when things went to shit, killing those that got in the way. 

And then starting to fall apart. Nightmares, flashbacks, depression, guilt and aggression. Being discharged from the army, losing his footing, isolating from friends and family, losing his job and doing anything to numb the pain. Doing coke. 

As he tells you about his coke problem he shrinks in his chair, his head falls down between his shoulders and you can only see the peak of his cap. 

“I fucked up so badly,” he whispers so low you can barely hear him. “Lost my pilot’s licence, lost my apartment, if Pope hadn’t let me sleep on his couch I would’ve been on the streets.” 

“What changed?” you ask quietly. 

Frankie takes out his phone and shows you a picture of a little girl. She’s about two and sitting on Frankie’s hip. Her face is alight with laughter as she presses two chocolate covered hands to his cheeks, Frankie’s smiling widely in the photo too. 

“I wasn’t exactly thinking about protection when I was high and my girlfriend at the time got pregnant.”  

He looks up at you as if to gauge your reaction and you smile at the photo, “She’s beautiful, Frankie.” 

He smiles then too, the first real one since you got there, and looks down at his daughter. “Yeah, she’s amazing.” 

He puts away the phone and looks up at you again. “She changed everything, her mom was also addicted but quit cold turkey when she realised she was pregnant. I got help through a volunteer veteran’s help centre, started going to NA meetings, got a job through a contact there, a new apartment. When Lucia was born we’d broken up, we were only ever together because of the coke anyway. But she’s cool and she lets me see Lucia as often as I can. They live a few hours away, at her parents' place.”  

He leans back, his coffee mug still full and now cold. “So that’s me, ex-army, ex-coke addict, PTSD fuck up, single dad.” 

“Frankie,” you begin, trying to find the right words, “what scared me most when I saw you on Friday night was how easy violence seemed to be for you, and how you showed no emotions doing it.” Frankie nods, his eyes back on his hands again. 

“It’s all the training, I was, for better or for worse, trained to be a weapon and to do it without emotion.”

“I understand that now and I understand how you were able to do it to him. But what I don’t understand is why you reacted so violently? What made you punch him? Much as I appreciate you defending me against a creep that gropes my ass though, a simple shove would’ve been enough.” 

“When I saw him hit you I just needed to protect you and get him away from you, to neutralise him.” Frankie rubs his hand over the back of his neck again and tugs at his cap. 

“Frankie, he didn’t hit me,” you say, surprised. 

“What?” Frankie jerks his head up. “But I saw it, you pushed his hand away, he grabbed your arm and swung you around, hitting your cheek with his other hand?” 

“No, he never touched my cheek, he just grabbed my arm.” 

Frankie groans, “And you thought I punched the guy for just touching you.” 

“Yeah, kinda…”

He pulls his cap off in frustration, shoving his hand through his hair and squeezing his eyes shut, “I’m sorry, for everything, for punching him, for scaring you, for dumping all of this on you now. We barely know each other and you shouldn’t have to deal with my fuck ups and all my…”

You reach out and grab his hands, silencing him, stopping his nervous twitching. “Did you have dinner yet?” you ask. 

“No,” Frankie shakes his head. 

“You owe me dinner,” you give him a hesitant smile, “let's just go somewhere and eat and talk about something else for a while, start over maybe?”

Frankie exhales, like he’s been holding his breath for an age and his shoulders sink. “Yeah, I’d like that, I’d really fucking like that.” His face finally slips into that soft smile as his eyes crinkle at the corners, relaxing. 

…

Frankie pays for your coffees and you walk out onto the street together. “There’s a good pizza place on the next block,” you say, pointing down the tree lined sidewalk, “wanna try that?” 

“I will never say no to pizza,” he says and you slip your hand into his as you start walking down the street. Frankie looks surprised and then elated, wrapping his hand tightly around yours. When you glance up at him you see him smiling to himself. 

The pizza place is a tiny Italian restaurant and you get a small table towards the back of the dimly lit room, the waiter leading you to it and leaving you with the menus. Frankie doesn’t want to let go of your hand, only dropping it to pull out your chair, pull off his cap, but as soon as you sit down and put it on the table he gently wraps his fingers around yours again. When you smile at him he caresses the back of your hand and you think he’s going to kiss you, you really want him to. You look at him for a few more seconds and make up your mind. 

“Will you kiss me, Frankie?” you ask, leaning closer to him. It takes him only a beat, his breath catching in his throat. Cupping your cheek with his free hand, his eyes look down at your lips before finding your eyes again. His warm scent washes over you, soft cotton and the same light spice of his body wash, his lips are on yours, pressing gently against them. He feels so good and he’s kissing you so softly, taking his time, his lips moving slowly over yours as his hand slips into your hair. You put your hand on his forearm, the sparse hairs tickling your palm as you grip him, to hold you steady as he pulls you in closer. The kiss is still chaste but your need is bubbling under the surface and he responds to it, moving to kiss you deeper until he draws a quiet moan from you. He pulls back just a fraction, locking eyes with you, his rich browns are velvety soft in the dim light. 

“I’ll do whatever it takes for you to trust me again,” he whispers, “I don’t want to be without you, hermosa.”

You reach up and stroke the curls that have fallen over his forehead, pushing them back before caressing his cheek, trailing your fingers along his patchy beard. He watches you intently until his eyes flutter shut, leaning into your touch. 

“Just be yourself, Frankie, and we’ll be fine.” 

Chapter 5

[esoteric-joke]

Interview with Darling28

(#Interview1)

Welcome to the first interview of The Dear Writer Project and a massive thank you to the wonderful Darling28 for being so supportive of this whole idea since the beginning!

Darling28 about her writing process, her inspirations, her experiences with writers block and her future plans on writing:

What does your writing process usually look like and is it always kind of the same for every story you’ve written?

Oh interesting question. It's usually the case that ideas come from the simplest things and suddenly a complete plot is in my head within minutes or sometimes even seconds. At least the rough outline. Apart from that, my characters often like to take the plot for themselves and I just watch in amazement at what they let me write. I often suffer as much as the reader when I write because I let it flow out of me and often don't know what to expect. Most of the time, though, I have a specific scene in mind in the beginning, often for the middle of the story, and I can hardly wait until I finally get to the point where I can write it. The end of a story quite often involves a marriage proposal, I realise, even if I don't always intend to, but Louis and Harry in my stories are very stubborn about it.

But other than that, my writing process is pretty simple: get excited about a new idea, start writing immediately, often at a speed that makes my betas despair and end up questioning the whole story until I reread it myself and suddenly love it.

Do you have any sort of structured writing plan before you start writing or do you just write what comes to mind?

I'm absolutely far from structured. I have the problem that my best ideas about what to write next come to me when I'm driving and I have to memorise whole conversations or scenes for the rest of the journey. As soon as I've parked, I write it down as a note. But there's really nothing more than these few notes, no mood board or major characterisations, I just let myself go with the flow. I also think that would take some of the fun out of it for me personally, I love getting to know my characters over the course of the story and I don't want to plan everything in detail beforehand.

You said before that you write a lot, especially after you’ve got a new idea in mind. How much time do you invest in writing in your day to day life?

I actually write every day and usually around 3-4k. I think it takes about 3 hours of my time, but that's really just a rough estimate. I usually write already in the morning at breakfast before I have to go to work and then spread the rest over the afternoon and evening.

Our Souls Intertwined is your longest work at the moment. Was it also the one you wrote the longest on?

Our Souls Intertwined… I wrote this story together with freakingmeout and we took turns writing chapters, each of us wrote one character. Despite the length, I don't think we really needed much time to finish it because the other author is just as fast as I am at writing and often each of us had finished a chapter within a day. It was perhaps a little worrying in hindsight haha.

If it wasn’t Our Souls Intertwined, what work of yours did take you the longest?

Oh wow I think you've got me now and I can't give you an answer off the top of my head.

I'm guessing it might be Calm after the storm because that's my longest story that I wrote on my own. So it makes sense that it probably took me the longest to write.

But when I think about it, it could also be the current one I'm writing that hasn't been published yet. My last few weeks haven't been easy for personal reasons and I haven't had time to write and everything has stalled. I just started writing again a few days ago and am catching up.

She also told me that she sometimes drives her betas crazy with the amount and pace that she writes. On some Sundays she writes all day and sometimes feels a bit empty inside afterwards, she admitted.

What work of yours did come together the fastest?

I would say Men are shit. This story practically wrote itself and I could just let my thoughts, which I put into the story as Louis’, run free and didn't have to think about them any further. It was a great experience and I love this Louis so much!

Do you finish writing the story completely before you start publishing or do you start publishing whenever you finished a chapter?

For my first stories, I posted while I was writing. So I finished a chapter, had it proofread and then published it.

However, my only beta at the time had of course her own life and sometimes couldn't keep up with the speed at which I wanted to update again.

So at some point I started to finish writing and only then published it.

What worked better for you, personally?

Both definitely have their pros and cons. But I really liked publishing in the writing process. You get immediate feedback on what you've written, sometimes even ideas for the rest of the plot from readers' comments.

However, it would have stressed me out a lot, like in my situation the last few weeks where I couldn't write anything and had to make the reader wait for updates.

What inspires you in your day to day life the most?

The story often comes to me really quite by chance, mostly inspired by songs, not so much by the lyrics but by the feelings they convey, what lies between the lines.

Did you ever have a writers block and what helped you out of it / What do you do if you feel unmotivated?

Yes, I've had a writers block for the last few months and I've missed writing so much. But there's no point forcing yourself and for me it was best to wait until it felt right again. Before that, I didn't have anything like that as far as I can remember. Sometimes I just didn't know what to write next and got a bit stuck, but my advice here is: just start writing. Don't think, just do it.

And if I'm just unmotivated then I leave it for the day because I know it'll be definitely easier the next one.

What do you find most stressful/annoying/repetitive in the process of writing a story?

For me it's the hardest thing to end the story because then I'm usually so connected to the characters that it feels like saying goodbye to a dear friend every time and I'm actually really sad.

Oh and one thing that really frustrates me is that my Louis and Harry very often crash the chapter with sex. I love writing smut but sometimes they overdo it (okay it amuses me a bit too).

Darling28 also told me, that one of her favourite phases in writing a story is the getting-to-know-each-other phase. She said that she loves it because that’s when she feels like the characters come to life and the tension between them grows.

Can you tell me something about any future projects you’re working on?

I'm happy to tell you about future projects!

In addition to my many ideas for stories that I haven't started yet, I'm currently writing four open ones. Two with other authors and two of my very own. I hope that I will soon be able to present the readers with something new from me, because for me it is always the best thing to finally be able to share my work with the fandom.

For the next part of the interview, I asked Darling28 more specific questions about her works.

What work of yours is your personal favourite?

It's really difficult to name THE one. But I'll go with the three that come to my mind first, okay?

Calm after the storm, because I love their love in this story and I felt for both of them while writing it. It still touches me today.

Men are shit, because Louis is just chaos but so sweet at the same time. I loved describing his ADHD brain, letting his mind run wild. I wanted to give neurospicy people a story in which they can find themselves and feel understood.

True Colours, because I wrote this story for my friend and beta who wanted me to make Harry really suffer as it's usually Louis in my stories who has to go through everything horrible. I love the development of the two of them in this story. They heal together and I don't think there's anything better.

What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who isn’t familiar with your works and why?

I think that would be Paparazzi. That's the most popular one of mine and it contains a bit of everything but it's not as extremely angsty as others that I wrote. A bit of enemies to lovers, gay awakening, smut, fluff - what more could you want?

A lot of your works are based around complicated and complex topics like having a bad relationship with your parents, mental health issues and homelessness and everything that comes along with it. Why do you specifically choose to write about those topics?

I love the drama and the big emotions.

But also because none of our lives are perfect. Everyone has their own struggles and their own traumas and I love picking up on that. It especially touches me when readers find themselves in it, feel understood and heard. I think for some it's some kind of validation. It's wonderful to turn something very sad into something very good. As much as I love the drama, I also love the happy ending.

And of course it's also free therapy in a way. There's always a part of me in most stories.

The Magic Within You is your only story, that doesn’t really have any of those topics (besides of Louis’ tendencies to panic quickly). Why did you want to write something so different to your usual writing style?

The Magic Within You is a pure, cheesy Christmas story that was set up like an advent calendar when I posted it, but I think it can be read very well throughout the year.

I always find Christmas a difficult time of the year myself. Lots of people come together and I'm often overwhelmed. I especially wanted to give people who might feel the same way a cute story, offer some distraction and sweeten the day. I hope I succeeded.

By the way, I love how you mentioned the panicky side of Louis. So adorable.

Is something like an advent calendar planned for this christmas season too or was it a one-time thing for you?

No, I haven't planned another one, but never say never. Maybe I'll suddenly get an idea in October and start writing like crazy.

Actually, a sequel to The Magic Within You was planned for this summer but unfortunately I couldn't do that for personal reasons that I had already mentioned. But I definitely want to publish the sequel next year!

You wrote Our Souls Intertwined and Bring me to life with freakingmeout. How did that go?

Oh it's a totally interesting experience because here too we only had the rough plot, but because everyone wrote their character in alternating chapters it was always exciting for the other to see what would happen in the chapter of the other. Sometimes I sat there shocked or totally amused and had to think about how I was going to live through certain situations with my character. It's definitely anything but boring and you experience it as an author as well as a reader.

When I asked her if it feels like a roleplay kind of thing she actually confirmed that it does sometimes feel like exactly that.

Paparazzi is your most popular work. Why do you think this one in particular got the most attention?

I have absolutely no idea why Paprazzi is the most popular one. I often ask myself that but maybe it's really because it's not such a heavy one? But instead of looking for answers, I prefer to be happy that so many people like it.

Is there a work of yours that you’d like to get the attention that Paparazzi got or just more attention in general?

Oh yes, definitely. In my personal opinion, Holding On To Heartache has far too little attention. I know where it comes from, or rather I suspect that the tag 'suicide attempt' puts a lot of people off, but I still think it's worth reading. You can always expect a happy ending with my stories.

Is there a work of yours that you wouldn’t publish again in hindsight?

I must confess that I have already deleted my very first story. And I know that my betas and friends will kill me if they read this now. Because they kept stopping me every time I had a crisis about this story but I did it nontheless one day. I guess my secret is out now... oops. If you read this, please don't be mad!

But I'm actually thinking about revising it and publishing it again at some point.

Are there any characters in one of your stories that are inspired by people or animals you know in real life?

Yes... Bree in 'Paparazzi' is my friend and beta. But I don't think I realised until the later chapters that I was using her as a role model for this absolutely wonderful character.

For the last part of the interview, I asked Darling28 some personal questions that are more about the fandom and less about her experiences with writing.

Since when are you in the fandom and what made you become a part of it?

I am a Lockdown-Larrie haha. I was watching Tik Tok videos out of sheer boredom like probably so many others and suddenly a video with two guys popped up. It's this one where Harry is sitting on the armchair, Louis is sitting on the armrest while Harry is looking up at Louis, absolutely enamoured. I was just sitting there and I remember thinking: who the hell are these two guys that are so in love?

I read through the comments and searched the web for more informations. After that, my days were filled with watching all the YouTube videos and then making a Twitter account. I was absolutely down the rabbit hole and I don't regret it one day. At first I was in the lane of LHH (I mean, come on, just look at him) but then I listened to Louis music and he got my number 1 and never lost rank again. Also, the song Just hold on saved me, the lockdown was not a good time for my mental health.

Your favourite Louis and Harry Era?

LHH forever. If I had enough money I would bribe him to let them grow long again. Although I'd have to meet him first. My plan isn't finalised yet as you can see but yeah... I think you know now how serious I am, haha.

And Louis... Hedgehog and FITF. I just love when his hair is fluffy.

Your favourite movie H starred in?

My Policeman. Damn, I was broken after watching it but it's so good.

Who’s your favourite writer in the fandom at the moment?

One of my favourite authors is BoosBabycakes. I especially love their a/b/o stories!

And your all-time favourite fic in the fandom?

Oh, that's really difficult. There are too many good ones and I really need to think about it for a moment. But I would like to name a story that is not one of the fandom's always recommended ones.

Okay... I go with this one, it's definitely one of my favourite a/b/o stories, the nesting is so sweetly described and I think I really need to read it again:

You've Got A Higher Power, You're Once In Any Lifetime by BoosBabycakes

What makes you want to stop reading something?

If the story is written in first person or the plot doesn't make sense to me and I question too much in the story. Some stories are also too artificially drawn out for me. I don't like slooooooow burn. My attention span doesn't last that long.

Your favourite song at the moment?

Call me by Neeve, it's a small german indie band but I like them a lot.

Of course nothing beats Louis music, I hope I don't have to mention that, do I?

Do you have a favourite movie or a favourite series at the moment?

No, neither of them. I haven't watched anything for ages. I prefer to spend my free time writing.

What was the most unusual thing that inspired you at some point?

Erm I hope this doesn't come across as weird but Louis' bum and waist. For some of my a/b/o stories and ideas that I still want to write.

What is your favourite season?

Spring, when everything turns green again and starts to blossom.

She also told me, that she has hay fever and that sometimes it’s unbearable for her until autumn but she still loves spring the most, especially after the darker months.

Who would you like to read an interview from?

I don't have a specific author in mind but I'd like it to be someone with a smaller fanbase to draw more attention to them.

I wanted to make it a little tradition for every interview, that every writer gives every of their works a colour and a season. It’s just a fun little thing for the end of the interview I thought would be interesting. Thankfully, Darling28 thought it was a great idea too, so here are the results:

Captured Ink, Hidden Hearts - pink and black, spring.

Bring me to life - darkblue, autumn.

Our Souls Intertwined - dark red, late summer.

True Colours - rainbow, obviously, autumn.

Men are shit - pink and green, summer

The Magic Within You - ice blue and white, winter (on a sunny day)

Tainted Love - brown, winter

Calm after the Storm - purple, early spring

Tank tops and a phone call - red, summer (a very hot day)

Letters - dark green, last summer days

I'm with you - white and grey, autumn

Paparazzi - yellow, summer

Holding On To Heartache - black with golden sprinkles, winter

Paradise is in your own mind (Sequel HOTH) - dark pink, spring

You Sunshine, You Temptress - green, summer

Careless Whisper - dark blue, winter

A huge thank you again to Darling28. Thanks for understanding my vision and being so open and kind. I appreciate it so much.

[hyuuukais]

.・゜-: ✧ :- FICTIONAL REALITY .・゜-: ✧ :-

pairing • bang chan x fem reader

synopsis • fiction or reality? y/n preferred the former, escaping into another world, escaping her problems. so what happens when reality takes that away from her; wiping her own story-in-progress off both her laptop and beloved usb? and what happens when she opens the door in the middle of a crisis to none other then the love interest of her novel... and he's holding her usb?

warnings • general

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER TWO • NEW LIFE (1.6k)

"Café guy?"

How is his number already in your contacts? And what cafe? The only place you could think of was the one chain coffee shop across town, but that couldn't be it. Or could it? There's only one way to find out...

The phone rings twice before he picks up.

"Hello?" When you fail to answer, he speaks again. "Anyone there...?"

"Yes!" You cringe at your loud volume. "Yes, sorry."

You pace around the living room, waving your left hand around trying to think of something to say. Thankfully, 'café guy' replies before you can get another word in.

"Oh, Y/n! I didn't expect to hear from you so quickly." He laughs breathily, and in the background there's distant honking; he's still walking back. "I also didn't think you'd actually save my number."

Another chuckle, this one less enthusiastic. Finally, you settle your pacing, opting to sit on the arm chair by the window looking out to the street. From here you could see the forest, and the kitten who lives there.

"Shit," you breath.

"Everything okay?" You almost forgot about the phone attached to your ear.

"Yeah, sorry, I just remembered something I have to do," you say, holding your phone in place with your shoulder. "I was just calling about... the USB! Thank you for bringing it back. It had something really important to me."

"Don't worry about it. I figured it was important since I always see you in here hunched over your laptop." He lets out a little chuckle.

"Oh, um," you force a laugh out, throughly embarrassed. "Anyway! I was wondering if I could thank you properly? Maybe over some food?"

"Are you asking me out right now?"

"No!" You jump up from where you were sitting, free hand outstretched. "God, no."

"Ouch," you hear keys then a door shutting. "I'll pretend I'm not a little offended by that response." Before you could respond, he was talking again. "Feel free to drop by the café, yeah?"

"Sure thing." You open the door and cross the street quickly, a bowl with cat food in your free hand.

The kitten's ears perked up when it saw you, but was hesitant to come forward. Although you'd been feeding it consistently for the year you've lived across the small forest, it never approached, still scared of what you might do if it got too close. From what you could see at that distance, there was a bit of scarring above its right eye and part of its tail was missing.

"I'll treat you to a free slice of tiramisu and everything."

"Holding you to that," you put down the bowl, standing up with a small smile and crossing your arms. "Tiramisu is my favourite."

"I know! That's why I chose it to be dessert of the week." Doors opened with a jingle. "Ah, I've got to go. Customers await!"

"Wait-" You're about to continue, but when you turn your head to the left, you see a black figure at the edge of the forest.

It's looking directly at you, but you can't see its face. The shape is human, a long coat moving slightly in the breeze. For a moment, fear ceases you. Something about it seems vaguely familiar-

"Y/n?"

Fuck, you need to stop forgetting about the phone in your hand.

"Sorry. Um, I'll see you soon?" You cross the road back to your front steps, not taking your eyes off the being.

"See you then!" He hangs up, leaving you alone with the figure and the kitten.

You watch from the safety of your home, now inside, as the figure approaches the small animal. Unlike with you, the kitten doesn't move away. Instead, it lets the figure brush its fingers on its fur. The kitten leans into the touch, and you can imagine it purring loudly. Part of you is hurt that this animal you've known for a year has chosen a creepy-ass shadow creature over you.

Pulling your eyes away from the two, you focus on getting ready. You're about to run up the stairs, but turn around and lock the door first. You don't know what- or who- that thing is, and you're not risking it entering your safe haven. The familiarity leaves you unsettled. Part of you wants to run back outside, confront it, demand the reason it's here; the other part wants to hide under a blanket like a child afraid of the monster in their closet.

There are too many skeletons in your closet for a monster. Or maybe the skeletons are your monster. Either way, the past is the past, and in the present, you are getting ready to meet a man who shouldn't exist. Meeting at a café that shouldn't exist. In a timeline that shouldn't exist.

When you leave again, the shadow is gone. A chill runs up your spine, goosebumps forming despite the warmth of the sun. Mind racing, you can't help but wonder-

No, don't think like that, you think, he has no idea where you are. You made sure of that Y/n.

Clouds obscure the sun by the time you make it to Main Street, keeping an eye out for the café. You had to text Café Guy- you really should get his name- to ask the address. He questioned it a bit considering you were a regular, but you quickly ended the conversation. Now, you're walking a street you've been down a million times, and at the first intersection is the café.

"That's not fucking right," you whisper, voice higher by the end of the sentence, breathing constricted.

Upon entering, you immediately spot him. He's running around behind the counter, helping his employees and cracking jokes, and getting closer, you can read his name tag; Chan. You don't approach the counter right away, opting to stay behind a group of teenagers waiting in line to watch him. He shouldn't be real- yet, here he is, looking more alive than you have in years. A smile that could replace the sun, laughter ringing throughout the building.

What you would give to laugh freely like that again.

You don't notice him coming around the counter, having spotted you when you looked down briefly.

"Y/n! Come, we'll eat in my office." You give him a look. "It's quieter in there! C'mon."

Chan grabs your arm lightly and it takes everything in you not to rip it away. He leads you down a hallway to the right of the counter with three doors, two of them bathrooms. Behind the third door is another, smaller hallway, one door at the end and another on the left. You go through the left one.

"Cozy," you comment. The office is small, with a modest desk and chair tucked into the corner. Most of the décor is black and white, but there isn't much. "Spend a lot of time in here? Real homey."

"Actually, no," he admits, leaning against the desk, gesturing you to sit in the chair. You don't.

"So, Chan, what brings you here?" You question, although unsure of how much you already know. "There's not much here, unless you like neighbourhood drama."

"I could ask you the same thing. From the few times we've talked, you... you don't seem to like it here."

"That's a conversation for another time." You look down, crossing your arms.

"Alright, cryptic. Maybe I should be used to that by now." Chan pushes up from the desk, taking a step toward you. "If I'm honest, I don't really know how I got here, but you already know that, don't you?"

"W-What?" You stutter, looking up at him.

"Well... we've talked about this before!" He breaks into a smile. "You don't remember? Ahh, it was late, I guess you were tired. Basically, I just kind of found myself here after a long, long night. Cute town, decided to stay. That was... say a month ago?"

You force out a laugh, nodding along to what he was saying.

"Ah! I promised you dessert, let me go get it for you." As soon as Chan left, your phone began to vibrate.

Pulling it out of your pocket, you saw the words Unknown Number across the screen. This day had been weird enough, what was one more thing to add to the list of strangeness?

"Hello?" Silence. You heard a sharp inhale on the other side, but nothing followed. "Helloooo?" You repeat. "Listen, I really don't appreciate-"

They hang up.

"Asshole," you pull the phone away, rolling your eyes.

When Chan returned with the promised tiramisu, you got to chatting fairly quickly. Something about him made you comfortable, at ease. The odd phone call and shadow creature seemed so far away now.

"So what was on that USB anyway?" You blush.

"Um, nothing, just a story."

"Just a story?" He raises an eyebrow, picking up the now empty dessert plate. "Must have been a pretty important story."

"I've just been working on it for a long time," you wave your hand, as if to wave the conversation away.

Before he could reply, there's a sharp knock on the door. An employee enters, talking low to Chan about an angry customer.

"I'll be right there," Chan sighs. The employee glances toward you, gives a strained smile, then leaves. "I had a good time Y/n, don't be afraid to swing by for free desserts whenever you like."

The smile he gives you made your heart melt. On the way out, you turn before the end of the hall, giving Chan a small peck on the cheek. Embarrassed by the impulsive action, you all but run out of the café. If you had turned back, you'd have seen him smiling like an idiot, hand hovering over where you kissed him.

-

notes • i started this draft on september 14th ...................... it was so close to being able to post then i got sick !!!!! but hey !! now that i'm feeling better, i hope to be able to update this more frequently!

taglist • @yongbbokkie @chaeryred @tenebrisirae

TAGLIST CLOSED

[mastersoftheair]

ok, so my own final (and very, very fresh) thoughts, bc i wanted to wait until i'd watched everything to make a sweeping opinion of the whole series, and it's quite opinionated. and long. probably too long. i write essays for fun (everyone point and laugh):

my personal (and very, very fresh) ranking of the hbo war shows (not including gen kill bc that's a different war, sorry) goes- band of brothers > masters of the air > the pacific (it's the same for my title score rankings. that hasn't changed yet)

my main points of contention with MotA are 1) the nine episodes, 2) the length of the episodes, and 3) certain editing choices. nine episodes, compared to the classic ten, isn't Nearly enough time to showcase all that they wanna showcase (especially when the episodes are as short as they are, once you get past the recap and "next on" parts). and they wanna showcase A Lot! there so much going on! i'd ask them to pace themselves, but they literally Can't!

i mean, the editing choices are a Whole Thing! practically gives me whiplash sometimes lol. i feel like the weaker episodes still have parts that are Really good, but like. Individually. they don't work together as a stronger whole, which is to the episode's detriment. rather than jumping around (as the show often did), they could've benefited a lot from focusing on the One Story instead of squeezing three more stories into there (i say that, but i think the 4-5-6 episode run (all with multiple stories per episode) did this very well while Still being very good episodes, so it's not like it Can't be done, it just didn't work for 7, 8 and (partly) 9). granted, i suspect a chunk of the weird editing can be blamed on, well, there being only nine (and not all that long) episodes and no one wanting to cough up enough money for a tenth. ugh! i'm blaming both hbo And appletv for this (and covid19 ig). it's just One More Episode, how much could it cost?? and on the subject of episodes, why no episode titles? you used to love episode titles! i could've brainstormed episode titles for them For Free!!

when it comes to the characters, the rankings remain the same: BoB > MotA > TP. it's not totally fair tho, since BoB followed the exact same (and large-ish) group of guys from beginning to end, so you're Gonna know who they all are and get attached. this wasn't the case (for me!) when watching TP, since, unlike BoB, they jump around from group to group. i never felt like i got to know them all that well, outside of the main characters. i think MotA almost hits that sweet spot, especially knowing they had those two main things going against it: large cast And jumping from group to group. there's a case to be made for bias here (i Was the blog blogging about everything MotA for like. years.), but i still think they found a good enough balance of fleshing out the main characters while Also helping the audience get to know about a bunch of minor characters, of which there are a shitton (and their personalities, motivations, backgrounds, quirks).

there's also the representation of women. actual angel renée lemaire is and will always be a cut above the rest (bastogne is just That Good, argue with the wall). she's written so well that it almost makes me forget about how a bunch of women are portrayed in carentan. i have...issues with how women are portrayed in TP (even tho i love lena), so there's that. MotA falls in the middle (again) bc there's Way more women on-screen, but the writing can be questionable. balanced (as all things should be?) captain l'sandra wing-westgate is a character of all time, but episode 7 birthed the craziest discourse known to man (the hbo war fandom), but it wasn't all that unwarranted. manon and michou were sooo cool, but we didn't see nearly enough of them (another victim of the 'editing too many stories into one episode' problem. why not a whole resistance episode? or at least as the only b-plot?). paulina was interesting, but fulfilled one of those 'attractive foreign woman gives sage advice during/after sex' tropes (there's probably a tvtropes page for that idk). so many red cross girls, but none of the in-depth payoff :/ epic highs (multiple women!!) + epic lows (writing women??) = pretty tolerable. not great, not terrible. it was aight. i trust the fandom to build on this tho.

narrative is the big one tho. it's the whole "doing so much with so little" thing they've got going on (i'm ignoring their big budget here lol, could've been bigger). rather than having one main story with many connecting side stories (like BoB), it does the TP thing where there's many semi-connecting side stories set in the same general area. it helps that there's crosby's narration (i enjoy narration, sue me!), and he helps everything connect, sorta. but there's still other side stories that have Nothing to do with him (sandra's side gigs (revealing what she did takes away the mystery of what she Might be doing), the tuskegee airmen, quinn and bailey's eurotrip). would it have helped if there were two narrators (say, someone like rosie)? idk. gonna sit with that one. if there's a through-line, it's not super obvious like in the other two shows. which is insanely funny to me bc i literally like TP less, but that show's got an Extremely tight through-line all the way down. i can't lie and say it doesn't!

back to budget- i've seen people criticize this show for being called "masters of the air" when there's not much of "the air". ig that's fair, but there's the money issue, again. also, it'd get very repetitive if they were always in "the air". there was enough confusion about identifying who was who with the masks on, so imagine if that was Every Episode. out of All the issues the show has, this is the least issue-y. again, that's just my opinion, and it could change.

another budget thing (i think??)- idk enough about costuming and hair for period pieces so i can't comment on that with my 0 background in it, all i Can say is that i knoooooow people were clowning on marjorie cleven's hair in episode 1 (and i could see why, no such thing as 1940s beach waves). but from what i could understand- that actress' addition was a last-minute thing (bc i had No idea who the hell she was and i already found someone cast for marjorie all the way back in 2021). maybe there's something to say about the quality of rush jobs, but i really do think it was the most last-minute thing bc it came out of Nowhere, and timeline-wise, it looks like that bit was done long after everything else had been filmed. outside looking in, it seems something probably went wrong/didn't work out with who or what they already had and there wasn't enough wiggle room (time and money) to fix it. this isn't me being an apologist (lol), but i feel like a theorist at a big board bc nothing adds up! and i wanna know what happened! i'm just speculating! speculating on this blog is All i did for like Years lmaooo.

this is more of a side thing, but some of the lines in MotA feel really on-the-nose, almost corny. and that was Gonna be a knock against it, but there's some equally Extremely on-the-nose lines in both BoB and TP (Especially in BoB), so if i give MotA shit for it, i'd have to give all three shows shit for it lol. none of them are free of cheese.

another silly aside- no peaches, no main gingers, no main eugenes! we can't have 'em all, but c'mon!

there Is some good tho lol. one thing that MotA really has going for it, that i think the other shows have less of, is- and GOD it feels so weird to call this "world-building" when it's actual goddamn history, but- it's got world-building. maybe that isn't the best word for it. but i like how much Bigger ww2 feels in this show. BoB is one stop, then the next stop, then the next stop, which is, admittedly, good from a narrative-perspective (easy to follow), but not as good when you want a scale of how devastating the war is (in fairness, it was filmed in 2000). even TP feels pretty "enclosed" in a way. there's island-hopping, yeah, but all the damn islands look the same (not including australia lol). it's a theatre of the war we otherwise don't really get to see, but there still isn't all that much to see. it's water and sand and rock and dirt. which is the point, but Whatever! would've been cool if we saw sledge and co. in china, but moving on. MotA's able to really show the scale of it, both in the air and on the ground (that scene in germany during episode 6 was both harrowing and fantastic, also the inclusion of the actual children forced to fight nearer to the war's end in the finale). idk i just liked how it was able to zoom in and zoom out (and in and out again) in a way that the other shows weren't.

another thing it's got that the other shows don't is Really driving home how young everyone is (not "child soldier" young, but damn young). the cast is full of baby faces (rip babyface). a lot of ww2 shows/movies don't bother casting to reflect this, but i think overlooking that takes away from the overall impact. you browse through some old newspaper articles or photos of soldiers during ww2 enough and you're gonna Regularly get hit with the face of someone who looks like they could've sat in the desk next to you during a high school lit class. a lot of those b&w grinning faces look like kids bc they pretty much were (more so if they lied about their age). you don't really get that in BoB or TP (it's Crazy when the real life pics of the soldiers portrayed in those shows look younger than the actors).

i'm mixed about the tuskegee airmen. what we have, i love (thank you, dee rees). unfortunately, my biggest irk is that it leaves me wanting more of them, which i won't ever get. speaking as a black person (not speaking for All black people, just how i personally feel about it), having them included feels like a catch-22. if they weren't included in any capacity (all while knowing there were whole tuskegee airmen in stalag iii with the white main characters), there'd be a problem. however, including them (all while having these time constraints and not enough focus on them) leads to the feeling of having them "tokenized" (which i can see). there's no world where there'd be 50/50 split (even a 70/30 split) bc, at that point, just give them a show of their own. but there'd still be a general annoyance that big budget ww2 shows are only ever white. on the other hand, hanks and spielberg and orloff and miller and all the directors (except dee rees) are white, and how good of a story about black people are you really gonna get from the perspective of nonblack people? that in mind, i personally don't feel put-off by having the three tuskegee airmen in the posters/trailers/promos, bc i just Know there'd be a whole nother problem if they weren't included in them at all despite being in the show for however long (it'd be even worse if they made their pictures smaller). like i don't work in advertising, but i don't know if a "sweet spot" even exists for something like this. people would be pissed off no matter what imo (i'm also speaking with a bias here bc i had to browse through sooooo many comments written by white guys whining and crying and pissing and shitting themselves once they learned that the tuskegee airmen were gonna be in the show in Any capacity, so i'm just cool knowing they're in shambles rn (and josiah cross- he played richard macon- always goes Wild seeing his face in the promos, and his joy is pretty contagious).

i give it somewhere like a 7.5-8/10. 3.75 stars out of 5. not perfect, subject to change, gotta marinate, but i'm overall happy with it! MotA's best episodes are better than many other individual hbo war episodes. should i be grading it using the overall sum of its parts, not just the different parts? idk, i'm not being paid to grade lol.

[yanderelovlies]

I got one! What about jack and bo find out their s/o is secretly a highly trained assassin/vigilante that kills crimals and other bad people at night to keep innocent people safe and often sneaks out to go patroling at night until they get caught sneaking out. (kind of like stain from my hero academia but they're not insane or kill heros)

𝕾𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖘 𝖐𝖊𝖕𝖙 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖐

Note: Trigger warning: mentions blood and death on Bo's part. Also! Woah! Two fics in one day?! I'm on a roll!

Fandom(s): SWWSDJ, and DachaBo

Character(s): Sunny Day Jack, and Bo

You had always dreamed of being a hero. Someone everyone could look up to, and ask fro help. However when you got older that was all down the drain. You saw how corrupt everything was. It didn't matter if you did bad or good, it just mattered how much money you were willing to throw around. You weren't going to stand for it. It went against all your morals. So instead you took matters into your own hands. At night you would hunt for those who slipped the hands of justice. While getting ready you always made yourself swear that you would only target those who deserve it. It was almost like a prayer at this point. 

Since you lived alone it wasn't hard to just get ready, and leave. However things are different now. Now you have a partner, and because of his circumstances he lived with you. You loved having him there during the day. You got all the love and cuddles you could ask for! But when it came to getting ready for the hunt at night it became harder. You had to wait till he was asleep to get ready and sneak out. The more you got away with the  more confident you became, which led to your downfall.

Sunny Day Jack 

This wasn’t the first time he woke up in the middle of the night to with you gone. At first he thought you were simply in the bathroom, but after an hour of waiting you never came back. He began to worry. He heard of the vigilante running around ending the lives of people and heroes alike. What if for whatever reason you were a target?! He began frantically looking all over the house for you or worse….a body. 

After not finding anything Jack paced the living room trying to come up with places you could be. When passing the widow however he saw you jumping from the neighboring roof to the apartment building roof. Now Jack was really confused. He never said anything till the second time it happened. This time however he was waiting in the living room till you walked through the door 

“J-jack! What are you doing up?”

Jack looked at you, his eyes cold and calculating. “I could ask you the same thing, sunshine…where have you been?”

You knew you were caught, and had to finally come clean. You really didn't want him involved in what you did, but you also didn't want to lose him. You sighed putting your things down. “Okay Jack I’ll tell you.” You sat down and began telling him your story. 

He was silent throughout the whole story. When you finished he was silent for a bit longer before he took a deep breath “Why didn't you tell me sunshine? What if you were caught or worse killed? I would have never known….”

“I didn't want to get you involved. I wanted to protect you from it, I guess.”   

With a sigh Jack stood up and made his way to you. He sat beside you and took both of your hands “Sunshine, I'm more capable than you think, and I would do anything for you…Let me help you.”   

Bo

After he heard the shut of the door he was immediately up. Why did you leave and not tell him? Were you going out with someone? Was it a friend? A family member? ….someone else? Bo wasted no time getting dressed and following you out the door. 

He followed your scent all the way to another house. He could feel the hair on the back of his neck tingle. Why were you at someone else's home?! The closer Bo got the stronger the smell of blood filled the air. When he got to the source he was surprised. Peeking into the window he watched as you stood tall over the body of a man. Your blade dripping with his blood. Wordlessly you wiped the blade before turning to the window only to spot him “Bo?! What are you doing here?!” your voice was barely above a whisper but he could hear almost clear as day.

“I could ask you for the same puppy.” He isn't mad anymore. Curious more than anything. Why did you kill him? Did he do something to you? Why didn't you just tell him? 

You sighed walking over to the window “let's go home, and i'll tell you everything.” 

And that was what the two of you did. Bo had plenty of questions along the way, but you didn't mind. You want to be as clear as him as you could.

“So then can I come hunting with you?” 

You blink owlishly at him “....What?”

You saw his tail behind him begin to wag wildly “I can help you! And they would never suspect anyone has claws like me! It works out perfectly!”

You were shocked to say the least. You never thought Bo would ask to join you on the hunt, but in a way it makes sense. It must be his animal instincts.”We can go for a trial run tomorrow night….how is that?”

“Perfect!”