#If not him then some tourist attraction definitely would

[deep-spacediver577]

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt. Field trip.

Some people would call gothamites petty, but given that most of the USA population treated them as scum, they believed that their behavior was justified.

They didn't like tourists, to put it mildly. Therefore, after learning that in their city were people on a field trip from Amity Park who could not leave Gotham for several days due to weekly escape from Arkham, the news channel immediately decided that a short interview from the guests would definitely amuse the locals. The reaction of outsiders never ceases to be ridiculous.

Reporter: ~Good afternoon~ Gotham News! May I ask you to share what you liked most about our wonderful city?

Mr. Lancer*still in a cold sweat and looks at every passerby as a potential villain*: Uh, no, me..It's so unexpected. Well, first of all, people here are very…

Danny *is high after the tasting samples Dr. Crane gave him for free and is extremely eager to share his happiness with others*,* picks a microphone*.

Danny: Gotham is the best city in the world! Like seriously, damn, I'd like to die here. Although there are constant shootings somewhere, half the time people don't even shoot at me! I haven't been this relaxed since middle school! And in the evenings, there is often such a pleasant scent of fear and despair on the streets. This fear toxin of yours is a real miracle! It's sooo good!

Sam *decides to take the initiative in her own hands before Fenton says too much*: Personally, I am very pleased with the number of green spaces you have in your city. It's nice to see that here eco-activists are really being listened to. Also, the fact that most restaurants have a thoughtful menu for vegetarians left a very pleasant impression.

Dash in his favorite T-shirt "it's not gay if he's dead": Four words. Hips of Red Hood. The fact that it is not marked in the guidebook as the main attraction of the Crime Alley is a real crime. This dude clearly never skips leg days. My respect.

Tucker: What can I say? The speed of internet here, even during villains attacks, is absolutely  unbelievable. I don't want to leave this place.

Jazz: I love Gotham! Finally, I was able to buy all the works published by Dr. Harleen Quinzel. *girl picks up an impressive stack of books* For some reason, they are not available online.

The camera points at a red-haired guy with a twitching eye.

Wes: I'm 85% sure Bruce Wayne is Batman. I have a proof and I am ready to provide it.

A girl with a "Good Guess" pin from Riddler enters and takes camera away from conspiracy theorist.

Star: Sorry, he slipped out at night and went to look for problems. Again. Don't pay any attention to him. He's always like this when he drinks more than two energy drinks in a row.

[muldermuse]

An Unlikely Hero (ex boyfriend!Billy Butcher x reader)

this is going to be a multi part series!!! i love exboyfriend!butcher and he is on my mind constantly. if u would like to read more about him here’s some more posts! if you wanna talk about him pls send me your thoughts ❤️ dividers by @saradika ❤️

part one: the first date

OR

the first time you meet Billy Butcher

You swore to yourself that this was the last Tinder date you’d subject yourself to. Last week, you matched and met with Jack who had a Homelander sleeve tattoo and cried to you about how hard it was to be a ‘true American’ nowadays.  The week before that, it was Shay who seemed sweet but kept trying to ply you with drinks and invite you back to his place (he bragged that his ‘folks were out of town’, which would be impressive if you were a hell of a lot younger than you actually are). This week’s date is named Harry and he’s just not right for you. You thought it over texts but as soon as you sat down with him tonight; it was confirmed. It’s not even like you have a great previous relationship as a point for comparison, all romantic love has been fleeting and, with how things are going currently, you imagine it always will be.

It's a few hours later and Harry’s suddenly a lot drunker than you. You’ve moved from the overpriced restaurant to your favourite bar. The drinks are questionable in that they’re both incredibly cheap and very strong. You grab two stools at the bar which is overwise empty, apart from one man nursing a whiskey. You’re sure Harry’s drunker than you because he’s currently sobbing into his craft beer about how he hasn’t felt a connection with anyone since his ex-girlfriend, who left him 3 months ago for a co-worker.

“Like, you’re nice y’know. You seem like a nice girl” you try not to recoil at the phrase “but my ex? She was great. There’s no one else who’s ev-hic-ever been like her and there never will be”. The guy sat next to you at the bar mutters a “fuckin’ ell” under his breath as he gestures towards the bartender for another neat whiskey. His accent is completely out of place in this local dive bar; he sounds European. No trace of an american accent so you consider that he could be a tourist who’s wandered into a bar looking for a cold drink and some respite.

You try not to smirk at the utterance and tune back into what Harry’s saying, “I think we’ve both just gone through the motions tonight, don’t you agree? I can tell you’re not really into me and to be honest, I’m not into you”. You kind of admire his candor because he’s right, you’re not into him in the slightest but the next thing out of his mouth quickly dispels any misplaced respect you held for him. “I’ve been real lonely since she left though…maybe you could come back to my place-hic-she’s uh…some of her stuff is still there but there’s not a lot of it in the bedroom”. He’s that plastered that what he assumed would be a casual hand slide up your thigh becomes a full push, hurtling you into the whiskey sipping man next to you. You fall into his chest, it’s strong and kind of feels like slamming into a wall. 

“Right, tha’s fuckin’ it” the potential tourist speaks and it’s only when he stands up that you realise how broad he is. He’s tall with thick black hair and the beard to match. His outfit is seemingly prepared for a spectrum of weathers with a Hawaiian shirt clashing with a thick overcoat. He’s older than you, definitely older but absolutely attractive. More attractive than anyone you’d seen on Tinder or, probably, ever in your life. “You alright there darlin’?” his dark eyes bore into yours as you nod and cough out a meek ‘yes’. You silently curse yourself, the first thing you say to this strong man makes you sound like a small frightened mouse.

“’M jus’ gonna get rid of your little pal there and then I’ll buy ya a drink- alright?” his hand rubs your bare arm and sends a flurry of goosebumps across your skin. The whole interaction feels more charged than anything you’ve had before with another human, you wonder if he’s feeling it too and pray that he is.

“Oh nice one man, I’ll have uh…another craft” Harry gestures towards the tap, completely oblivious to the situation in front of him

“All you’re fuckin’ gettin’ cunt is a helpin’ hand out that fuckin’ door. Now, I’ll ask ya politely one last fuckin’ time…fuck off” he elongates the 3 letter word. A comically confused look spreads across Harry’s face. “’M on a fucking date here man and she’s coming back to mine, aren’t you?”

“No” you quickly deadpan, shaking your head at the still unnamed man.

“There’s your answer then cunt, off ya fuck” 

“Butcher- no fuckin’ blood on my bar this time man” the bartender shouts whilst idly checking his phone. Butcher? Is that the guy’s name? 

Harry stands up, pushing out his chest which, if anything, only exaggerates how small he is in comparison. “I’ve bought her meal, paid for her drink and I’m go-hic-gonna take her back to my place and fuck her”. He finishes his sentence in Butcher’s face. Whilst you see a flicker of fear cross Harry’s expression; Butcher’s look borders on hysterical. 

“Alright then big fella, I’ll tell ya what’s gonna happen” he slams his hand down on Harry’s shoulder, his eyes now boring into his. “You’re gonna fuck off back to your shitty little home, grab some lube, cry and wank to ya heart’s content about your ex who is probably ridin’ some big fat fuckin’ dick right now-yeah?” Butcher nods as if Harry’s going to agree with him.

Your date goes to interrupt but Butcher presses a finger to his quaking lips before he can start, “what’s not gonna happen, my sad little mate, is that you’re going to fuck her. She’s hadta listen to your fuckin’ whinin’ about your ex all night whilst you’ve fuckin’ insulted this gorgeous woman. So, get out before I throw ya through the fuckin’ window”. Harry’s lost for words, he doesn’t make eye contact with you as you stand silently behind Butcher. You see tears brimming in his eyes as he smacks $20 on the bar top. 

“Fuckin’ old asshole” Harry spits as he shoves past the pair of you.

Butcher smirks at the remark, watching the door swing shut behind Harry before turning to you. “Right darlin’, whatcha havin’?” 

It’s the best date you’ve ever been on and it’s not even a real date. You finally got his full name. Billy Butcher. Your heart races just to say it. He’s from London but has been in the States for a while. He asks all about you and you surprisingly find you’ve got a lot in common. He’s funny, charming and really fucking exciting- you have to admit. By the third drink, the chat goes from conversational to more flirty. 

“The bartender said ‘this time’, do you do this a lot? Love saving a damsel in distress? Are you a hero, Billy Butcher?” you smirk at him and he returns it back to you. There’s lust in his eyes and you see him take your appearance in for what feels like the upteenth time since you sat down.

As he goes to speak, the bell rings for last orders and he takes your hand to help you off the bar stool. You down the remnants of your drink together and he puts his arm around you and escorts you out of the bar.

You don’t want it to end, he lights a cigarette and you thank any higher deity for the extra thinking seconds it gives you. He speaks before you get chance, “Will ya let me walk you home darlin’? Swear on my mum’s life I won’t try any funny business”. He holds his hand out like he’s making a scouts honour. Honestly, you do anything to spend a bit more time with him so you smile, link your arm with his and pull him down the quiet streets.

The air makes you feel drunker than you are. If you were sober, there is no way you’d be giggling like a school girl at everything this man is saying, yet here you are. Your arms are linked and you’re resting your head on his shoulders as you tell him about your horrific dating history. Everytime he laughs and accuses you of exaggerating you say, “Billy Butcher, I would never ever lie to you”. You say it because his name feels so fun sliding off your tongue. You barely see anyone on your walk home and the sound of your shared laughter fills the empty streets.

As you turn down your street, you wish you lived miles away so you could keep walking together for hours. Your stomach drops at the thought that you’ll never see him again. Which, you completely realise, is fucking stupid. This stranger threatened your date to leave but he also made you feel safe and laugh harder than you have in months. You pull his stride to a stop outside your house. It feels like some awful hallmark romcom or trashy romance novel.

You thank him for escorting you home and he turns down a nightcap in your house as “it’s not gentlemanly on the first date”. He shoots you a wicked grin again as he says, “my mum would be spinnin’ in her grave darlin’”.

You try not to let the heartbreak from that sentence show on your expression. “You’re a gentleman, Billy Butcher?”

“The best one around darlin’. I’ll prove it tomorrow when I take ya out for lunch”

A brief flare of anger hits you, “yeah, I hear that all the fucking time. The lunch never happens, I don’t see you again but then we bump into each other at the store and you apologise and say you’ll be in touch which, of course, you never will be”. You regret it as soon as you stop speaking.

Before you can apologise, he grabs a sharpie out of his coat pocket, takes your hand and scribbles down his number. “There, alright? You call me at any time gorgeous and I swear, I’ll fuckin’ answer and come runnin’”

His kiss to your cheek is soft yet restrained. “You’ll forget about me Billy Butcher, I know it”.

“S’not fuckin’ possible, darlin’”. He says goodnight and walks down your street. A plume of cigarette smoke trailing after him.

He keeps his word.

40 minutes later, and after one final glass of wine, you call him.

He answers on the first ring and says your name. He tells you where to meet tomorrow and what time to get there.

You hope he can always keep his promises.

[the-boy-meets-evil]

34.6037° S, 58.3816° W | teaser | jww

(your latest assignment has you jetting off to argentina hoping to finally catch the infamous art thief that's escaped your agency one too many times already. you know what's at stake if you lose your focus. enter the beautiful stranger that has you questioning everything you know.)

pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader genre: strangers to lovers, (kinda) enemies to lovers | smut, fluff, angst rating: explicit, minors DNI (for the full fic) word count: ~1k for the teaser (full fic here) warnings (for the full fic, teaser has none): art thief!wonwoo, secret agent!reader, very brief mentions of death & bloody past (again, reader is a secret agent), mentions of past violence, mentions of weapons, food, drinking, ambiguous ending, smut warnings on the full fic

a/n: this fic is for the amazing world tour collab for @svthub. i'm excited that i got to be part of it! the full fic will be posted on june 28th. if you'd like to be tagged, leave a comment, send an ask, or fill out my permanent tag form here

taglist: @aaniag, @crepecakeu, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @amoryeonjun, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizoon, @gyuminusone, @naajaeminsgf, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @harry-the-pottypus, @pyeonghongrie-main, @nuttywastelandmentality

Reluctantly, you move to sit down with him. It’s kind of insane the way he’s thrown you off your game by just existing. Usually, you’re the one that’s disarming strangers with your charm, not the other way around. As soon as you sit down, he looks back at the book he has open in front of him. It gives you a chance to figure out if he’s actually that attractive that it’s thrown you off or if you’re still just jet-lagged. 

His glasses slide down a nearly too perfect nose and he pushes them up without missing a beat. His black hair is a little messy and a little long, falling carelessly around his face as he gets lost in whatever book he has open in front of him. His clothes make him look a little too fancy to be sitting in a cafe overrun with tourists like this. Somehow, he makes a cardigan over a dress shirt with nice, pressed slacks work without looking like he’s trying too hard. Everything about him just exudes calm, confident energy. Like the kind of person you would assume comes from old money. Unassuming, yet standing out without even meaning to. It reminds you of some of the landmarks you saw that morning, like rich history perfectly combined with modern needs. 

Thankfully, at least some of your training kicks back in and you manage to keep it from being too obvious that you’re one step away from fully checking him out. Your new tablemate seems content to sit in silence, though, so you pick at your food while going through some of the pictures on your camera. Today is about getting the lay of the land as much as anything else. It’s not like you can just find your infamous art thief without knowing where to look. 

“I’m sure you got some great shots,” he says, drawing your attention again. When you look up, his eyes are on your camera. 

“Oh, yeah, it’s so hard to really capture the feeling of something through a camera, but I definitely try,” you say.

“I saw you at The Obelisk and I thought, I’ve never seen someone so focused in my entire life,” he says, except now he’s looking at you.

“There must have been thousands of people there. How did you pick me out?” you ask with a laugh. 

The mystery man shrugs. “Like I said, you were focused. And not in the way a lot of influencers who travel for the perfect picture are. I knew that it was more than that for you.” 

“It is,” you agree. “I’m studying the history and the culture down here. Just got in last night.” 

“Can I see the picture you landed on?” he ventures. 

You hesitate. Your pictures are good, sure, but you’re not actually doing anything that serious when you’re down here. Since it’s supposed to be part of your cover, you should feel confident. After a moment, you hand your camera over to him with your favorite picture in the display window. 

“Be kind. My focus is language and history first, not photography,” you toss out. Another layer to the cover. 

“This is amazing,” he says and seems earnest. “Can I look through the rest?”

Again, you pretend to consider. This time it’s for the sake of the persona you’re committing to. It’s not like there’s anything on there from before today since it’s a fresh SD card. 

“I promise to be kind,” he presses and you roll your eyes.

“Fine,” you say and he smiles. 

It’s hard not to notice the amount of care he uses while handling your camera. Maybe he knows something about photography and realizes it’s an expensive model. Or maybe he’s just gentle with something that clearly means a lot to someone else. It’s also easier to feel like you can appreciate things about him when his attention is somewhere else. Like he won’t notice the way your eyes map his features, noting the furrow in his brows or how smooth his skin is. Or the way his hair seems absolutely perfect without any product in it. None of it seems fair that he should just get to walk around looking like that.

“I’m surprised not to find a picture of myself on here,” he starts and it pulls you from your thoughts. There’s a moment where you wonder if he’s secretly self-centered, until you meet his eyes and see the glint there. “You know, with how you’ve been studying me.” 

“I appreciate beauty wherever I see it,” you answer, trying to channel more boldness than you feel. 

“Are you saying I’m beautiful?” he questions, entirely too at-ease. 

“I don’t think you need confirmation on that,” you scoff and look out the window. “It wasn’t me that noticed you earlier.” 

“A shame for me,” he muses. “I appreciate beautiful things as well.”

He hands your camera back with his eyes locked on you. It makes your skin feel a little flushed and you hate it. Hate that you’re always able to keep your cool in any situation and still so completely disarmed by this man. Hate that it’s him that breaks the moment, too, when he looks down at the expensive watch on his wrist with a sigh.

“Late for something?” you venture. 

“Something like that,” he agrees and puts his book away in a bag you hadn’t noticed. “I’m glad you sat down though.” 

“Me too,” you admit a little too quickly as he’s standing up.

“Enjoy your afternoon, beautiful stranger,” he says and you twist around.

“Wait, I didn’t get your name,” you call and he stops by the door. The smile he throws your way sends a tingle down your spine.

“I hope we’ll run into each other again, then,” he says.

i hope you enjoyed this little snippet!

[justnatoka]

Strawberry lip balm

Marko x Fem! Reader

A/n: Inspired by this headcanon by @slowlyoats. I found this prompt not long after reading their work and I started screaming! It was too perfect, I just had to write something for it!

Word count: 1.2k

Prompt: “Is that a new lip balm?”

Your lips are looking particularly soft this evening🤭

Marko was many things, but boring was definitely not one of them. Ever since you started you relationship many-many years ago, there has been not one dull moment you spent with him. The two of you always found something to spice things up, the little game you were currently playing being one of them. It was quite simple. Either one of you would pretend to be single and ready to mingle, eyeing up a potential victim who seems interested. It usually didn’t take much time to warm them up, both you and Marko being attractive as hell, and knowing how to use it to your advantage too. Just as it looked like you were taking the party elsewhere, the other one of you would swoop in, all gentle touches, suggestive hand placements and kisses on necks and cheeks.

You love seeing the surprise on their faces, how they quickly go from flirty and hopeful to confused and embarrassed. It gives you a rush. You also very much enjoy the lingering glances they still give you, wishing that they could be the ones feeling you up instead of your partner. You wondered before if you might be slightly voyeuristic in a sense, both you and Marko relishing the attention you get from people around you when you go heavy on the PDA. Sometimes, if your potential victim is not put off by it, you invite the poor soul for some fun time, only to devour them together.

It was your turn to be the bait. You made sure to look extra nice, dressing just a little bit suggestive and even sprinkling some perfume on yourself from the cheap, but nice smelling little bottle you snatched from one of your previous victims. You kissed Marko goodbye, then watched him disappear into the crown with the boys. But you knew he didn’t go far, you could feel his presence nearby through the unspoken connection your pack had, his gaze pleasantly prickling your skin as he watched your every move.

He liked to keep an eye on you when you played bait. He knew very well how some guys can get when they see an attractive woman, and even though he was well aware that you could take care of yourself – you didn’t hesitate to bite someone if they went too far –, he still liked to feel like he was guarding you. You sometimes jokingly called him your guard dog, and he never tried to deny it.

So here you were, making your way towards the stage, where you stopped just at the edge of the crowd, casually leaning on the railing to survey the people jumping around below. The band was pretty good, and you were bobbing your head, swaying your hips gently. You looked enticing, and you knew it. As you got more into it, you started rocking from side to side, running your hands through your hair. You were putting on a show, for your boyfriend’s watching eyes, but also for the people around you.

As you turned slightly to your left, you noticed a brunette guy. He was standing not too far from you, also at the edge of the crowd. His eyes kept continuously coming back to you, his gaze running over your curves, taking in your swaying moves. He was a tourist for sure. You’ve learned to easily pick them out of the crowd. It was a safer option then going after locals.

You sent him a seductive smile, and his stance instantly shifted. He looked a bit timid, but he smiled back. You had him right where you wanted him. Just as it looked like he will come to you, two arms sneaked around your waist from behind.

You didn’t have to turn around to know it was Marko. After decades spent together, you were very familiar with his touch. A pleasant chill run down your spine as you felt his breathe on your neck.

“Did you get impatient, handsome?” you turned around in his loose embrace to look him in the eye, resting your arms on his shoulders.

“I did. I mean, how could I keep my hands to myself when you’re looking like that?” You felt like he could eat you up right there as his gaze looked you up and down. Knowing him, you probably weren’t far from the truth.

You sent a sideway glance towards your prospective victim to make sure he was still there. He was. A satisfied smirk spread on your lips, and you sent him a cheeky wink. He was clearly less sure of himself than before, but was still willing to stay and see where this was going. It seemed like you had an easy dinner for the night.

When you turned back to your boyfriend, you noticed a change in his expression. He was staring at you through hooded eyes, his pupils all blown out, basically drowning out the color around them, making them enticingly darker. It was a look you knew well, your body reacting instantly, and as cliché as it sounds, the outside world seemed to slow around you.

Marko couldn’t help but stare at how plush your lips looked this evening, so perfectly kissable. He wasn’t sure what was different about them, but he wanted nothing more than to capture them between his, steal your breath away and devour you. He almost groaned when you playfully bit into your lower lip before your mouth started moving. It took his brain a second to register that you were talking to him.

“He’s still watching us.”

To be honest, he completely forgot about your little game by now, too focused on how delicious you looked tonight. A mischievous smirk brightened his face, transforming his features to practically devious.

“Let’s give him a show,” he breathed, before pulling you into him.

You sank into each other with ease, your lips moving in perfect sync together, tasting one another with fervor, hands tangling into hair and roaming over bodies with dangerous suggestivity. Marko was satisfied to discover that your lips did indeed feel just as soft as they looked, with an added sweetness that made you even more enticing.

“Is that a new lip balm?” he broke away panting.

“Yes, it’s strawberry,” you sighed, your lips already in search of his again.

“I love strawberry,” he groaned and pulled you back in for another kiss.

He gently nipped at your lower lip, and you granted him access, his tongue entering your mouth without hesitation. It was sloppy and hungry and hot and addicting. When his hands travelled south from your hips and took two handfuls of your ass, causing you to moan loud enough for heads to start turning, you finally decided to break away.

It was at that time, while trying to get your composure back together that you remembered why you were there in the first place. Head whipping around, the guy from before was nowhere to be seen. You got so tangled up with each other, your little game forgotten, that you didn’t even notice when he took off.

You looked at Marko with a huff.

“You scared him off.”

The shit-eating grin on his face was all the answer you needed.

“Good. Tonight I want to keep you all to myself.”

Tags: @stinkydove @pandemoniavenus @000-colby @lunarwhitewolf7 @notalwaysa @binightowl

[christinesficrecs]

Hi Christine, I know this is a long shot but long story short - lost my saves file a while ago and cannot find many of most favourite fics, I have countless quotes saved from them. I am sharing some with you in hopes people recognise the fics they're from if you post this. I will love you forever.

Derek’s first kiss in four years tastes like fresh-squeezed orange juice and makes his stomach flip like the drop in a rollercoaster. Stiles holds him close like he’s thanking him.

About the summer he spent in Ireland because there were pictures of his mom posed in various tourist sites at Dublin and Dingle and the Giant’s Causeway--places that he wanted to experience personally since he never got to ask her first-hand.

Derek looked at him for a moment, and wow, okay, this was why people wrote songs about love and painted pictures and wrote poetry, because he was pretty sure that he was falling in love with Derek Hale if only because of the guy's beautiful eyes and earnest expressions and his everything. God.

In some ways Stiles has done a lot of growing up since then, but a part of him thinks he’ll always be that scrawny, ridiculous kid at heart, whose greatest joys in life were Froot Loops, cheesy disco tunes, and masturbation.

Stiles gets back from his year abroad in Hungary with more muscles and the first of his tattoos, a knotted rope that runs the length of his spine.

Hey, Derek, can you do me a solid? Nothing serious, just, you know, screw my brains out, that’s all.

He meets Stiles’ gaze from where he's leaning against the back wall, his eyes catching glints of light amid the shadows. Certain people are just meant to live under the open sky.

Whatever he says afterwards, whatever happens between them, there will always be this, the long late afternoon with the sun skidding red in the west, and he will always know what Stiles looked like the first time someone filled him up to the hilt. There are no acrobatics. Nothing fancy happens. Derek feels like the ocean breaking helplessly on the shore, the tide rising, spilling him over.

there’s something about the shape of him, the way he’s huge and solid and beautiful and always thirty seconds away from admitting total defeat that rubs Stiles raw and tender.

“People are so exhausting,” he murmurs, and Stiles is glad to know it: that he isn’t people, that he counts as a kind of between places, maybe even as home.

Updating with the ones that magv1 found. Thank you!!!

Hot Single Dad Derek Hale by WhoNatural | 13.3K | Explicit

Wherein Derek is a Hot Single Dad, possibly with a little case of martyrdom, and Stiles is the newest client at his publishing house who really just wants to make him happy. Preferably while they're both naked.

^^^^^ #1 & 2

But Then What... by Stoney | 24.3K | Explicit

Senior year is almost over, and all Stiles needs to do is keep his head down to survive. A teacher calls in a favor, leaving him stuck tutoring Derek Hale, one of the most popular jocks in school and a member of a group of douchecanoes who have bullied Stiles for years. He's someone Stiles totally hates. Totally. Like, doesn't like him even a little bit. DEFINITELY isn't attracted to him.

Except that is a total lie. Fuck his life, seriously.

^^^^^ #3

My Life is not a Horror Movie, Derek by DiscontentedWinter | 38.9K | Explicit

Stiles keeps dreaming of people in robes with knives. With chanting. In Latin. And he mentioned the knives, right? That can't be good.

^^^^^ #4

i need your sway by thatworldinverted | 11.1K | Explicit

Stiles always figured it would be Scott who saw him through his first heat. They pinky-swore on it, in fact, when they were eleven and newly-presented. There haven’t exactly been an abundance of offers between then and now.

What there is now, though, is the pack, and pack takes care of each other.

^^^^^ #6

Sucker Love by whiskey_in_tea | 17.9K | Explicit

Kate sits up and narrows her eyes at him. “Page 72,” she says. “Why I Plan to Wait, by Stiles Stilinski.”

The spread is hilariously cliched: a full page picture of a pale, pretty boy with a wide-eyed blonde girl walking on the beach, the two of them holding hands and staring into the waves, probably thinking wistfully of the sex they aren’t having. Derek skims the text briefly. “Speaking up about the importance of virginity!” he exclaims. “Reclaiming chastity a a masculine virtue. Our friend Stiles sure is brave.”

“See, I was thinking he might make an interesting challenge,” Kate says lazily. “And he’s surprisingly attractive, don’t you think? Such long fingers. And that mouth.”

^^^^^ #8

[fitpacs]

An Angel Saved His Life (but he’s really a lifeguard)

Summary: Pac, the lifeguard, saves the life of a floundering Fit. Fit misconstrues the situation, and thinks Pac is a literal angel.

Genres: Alternate Universe, First Meeting, Humour

Part 1 of the birthday (not so) surprise for the beloved @iridescentpull <3

——

When Pac was younger, and he was asked what he wanted to be when he grew up, he used to say a scientist, an inventor, someone to break new ground and change the world.

And as he sits now, in his little tower in the middle of the beach, leaning back in his chair with his legs resting against the desk, mindlessly watching a sitcom rerun, he wonders if younger him would be proud.

But younger him didn’t have bills and debts to worry about, and not to mention didn’t have prejudice against him and his job prospects halved as a result of only having one biological leg left.

But, ever resilient, the inert desire to prove everyone wrong worked in his favour - breaking multiple records during his lifeguard training, and earning him a permanent position on the most sought after area of the beach.

It’s a cushy job, mostly he just needs to keep an eye on the countless tourists that flock to the beach, paddle in the sea for a few hours, then leave. He also hands out the rentable inflatables, which is where most of his interaction comes from on a daily basis, for some reason people like to stick around and chat with him - the fact he’s heard the phrase ‘hot lifeguard’ a handful of times definitely has not damaged his ego.

It’s a particularly peaceful day, he’s barely had to move from his chair, and has managed to get through four episodes of a long-running series that Mike has been insisting he watches.

The show’s main couple have just started to realise their feelings may run deeper than friendship, when a shrill scream pieces the peaceful atmosphere.

It’s followed by another, and is joined by other shouts and squeals.

He hears someone scream “lifeguard” and jumps up from his chair, sending it flying backwards and hitting the back wall.


He grabs his whistle and board and sprints out of the tower.

People are already running towards him, speaking over each other, but he ignores them, keeping his focus solely on the body of water.

Countless people stand in the shallow waters, shouting to whoever is in danger, but thankfully all move out of the way as Pac blows consistently on the whistle.

One of his colleagues from further down the beach is sprinting over, blowing their own whistle, and encouraging the beachgoers to stand back.

With a deep breath Pac sprints into the sea, and with a little dive he begins swimming towards the person in danger, who at the moment is only identifiable by a single arm above the water.

He’s propelled along by his adrenaline, and is thankful he never skips a workout day, otherwise his muscles would be screaming at him at this point.

But instead he glides through the water with ease, and manages to sweep the man onto board with little effort, and before he even knows it they’re back on the shore, before Pac even realises what he was doing, acting entirely on instinct.

Thankfully, his colleague has managed to shepherd all beachgoers away from the shore.

The chest compressions thankfully have their desired effect, a steady stream of seawater leaving the other man’s mouth with a hearty cough.

Knowing the man is alive gives Pac a much needed second to relax - the man isn’t bleeding, from what he can see, but there is a faint bruise on the side of the man’s bald head that will most definitely be darkening over time, which explains how he probably ended up in the situation he did.

But, and arguably the main thing Pac notices, is the man is undeniably attractive - and, given the fact the man isn’t a corpse and is very much alive, Pac lets himself think that thought openly.

When the man finishes coughing, and the seawater stops pouring out of him, his eyes flutter open then go wide as saucers.

Pac pushes his hair out of his eyes and smiles down at the man. “Hi there,” he says, and the man just blinks at him.

“Holy shit,” the man says, voice raspy.

And Pac didn’t really know he could be attracted to a voice until this exact moment.

“Do you know what happened?” Pac asks, sitting down on the sand as opposed to being on his knees, as the adrenaline is wearing off and his muscles are now beginning to ache.

The man looks around from where he lays motionless on the sand. “I-“ he swallows thickly, but keeps his eyes trained on Pac. “I have no fucking idea what’s happening.”

Pac holds up three fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

The man blinks. “Three,” he says, pressing his lips together for a moment. “Three slender fingers.”

The medic comes running over at that point, and Pac sits back as the medic gives the man a check-over, and thankfully concludes that there are no major issues, and says after a few hours’ rest in the lifeguard tower the man should be fine to leave.

And so Pac scoops the man up, still running the man’s use of the word ‘slender’ over in his mind, and lays him on the hammock in the corner of the lifeguard tower, all the time with the other man watching him with widened eyes.

“Holy shit,” the man says again, as Pac lays him down with ease.

“What’s your name, by the way?” Pac asks, smiling down at him again.

“Fit,” the man says, and swallows. “My name’s Fit.”

“Well, Fitch,” Pac takes a seat beside the hammock, sitting backwards on the chair so he can rest his arms across the top of the chair. “You had a lot of people worried.”

“Fitch?” Fit repeats a couple of times. “Is that how it’s supposed to be pronounced?”

“I mean, it’s how I pronounce it,” Pac laughs.

“I like it,” Fit nods. “Sounds kind of… angelic?”

He locks his gaze on Pac’s, it’s tense but not in an uncomfortable way by any means.

“If you say so,” Pac laughs again. “Are you okay, though? Nothing hurts too bad?”

“I’m so good,” Fit nods decisively. “I have to say I was not expecting you to be the first thing I saw.”

Pac shrugs. “Yeah, people have said that to me a few times before.” He smiles, remembering the various times he’s been referred to as ‘hot lifeguard’.

“I was just expecting, I don’t know,” Fit presses his lips together. “To have to sign in? Sign some papers or something?”

Pac shakes his head. “I’ll take care of that, just a few questions about you that i’ll send over to my boss. You just focus on relaxing, the hard part is over.”

“Your boss?” Fit asks, tilting his head the side. “What’s your boss like?”

Pac shrugs. “Older guy, doesn’t usually get involved and makes everyone else do all the hard work.”

Maybe he has a grudge against his boss for underestimating him when he first completed his training, and maybe that’s still his underlying reason for trying his hardest at absolutely everything - news of Fit’s rescue is going to be one of the biggest forms of fuck you that Pac could send.

Fit tuts. “Yeah, that adds up to what I always thought.”

Pac tilts his head to the side in confusion. “You know my boss?”

Fit shrugs. “Never cared enough to get to know him personally, kind of why i’m surprised i’m here.”

“What do you mean? Everyone deserves to be saved.”

Fit studies him for a moment. “I’m glad you think so, many people where i’m from didn’t think the same, especially when it came to people like me.”

“People like you?”

Fit nods. “Yeah, some people where i’m from aren’t too fond of people like me ending up in places like here.”

“I’m a person like you, and i’m here?”

Fit presses his lips together. “You are so much more than that. What’s your name?”

“Pac,” Pac smiles. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Fit’s eyes are still

slightly widened. “It’s a cute name, but I didn’t expect anything less.”

“Thanks, Fitch,” Pac smiles. “You just lay there for a bit, i’ll get the paperwork out of the way.”

Fit watches as Pac moves over to the small desk, and begins filling in the relevant information on his laptop to send to his boss to brief the rescue.

When Pac moves back over to the chair, Fit is now sitting upright, leaning his back against the wall.

“So what do we do now?” Fit asks.

Pac shrugs. “Whatever you want. We’ll be here a while, so we can do whatever you want.”

The medic’s recommendation for Fit to stay for a few hours is on Pac’s mind, and he won’t be responsible for any harm coming to Fit as a result for not caring for him properly following his accident.

“Whatever I want?” Fit repeats, biting his lip for a moment. “That’s how it works?”

“Yeah?” Pac taps his fingers against the back of the chair. “You sound surprised, you think i’m gonna force you to do something you don’t want to do?”

“Of course not!” Fit says immediately. “I just didn’t think it would be for me to decide.”

Pac gets up from the chair and reaches to fluff the pillows around Fit, and pull the blankets further over his legs.

“Just relax, Fitch.”

And that’s when Fit closes the gap between them, and kisses him. It completely catches Pac off guard, but he does find himself almost immediately kissing back.

But once reality sets in, he does pull away, slightly breathless, and takes a step back.

Fit’s eyes are again wide as saucers, and he clasps his hands over his mouth.

“Holy fuck,” he says, voice muffled. “You’re… not an angel, are you?”

“An angel?” Pac laughs. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but that’s a new one.”

Fit’s face is bright red, and he shakes his head a few times. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Don’t be!”

“I thought I died,” Fit explains, slowly dropping his hands from his mouth. “That’s why i’ve been saying all this weird shit, oh my fucking god.”

He buries his head in his hands.

Pac kind of finds it adorable.

“Well, you didn’t die,” Pac confirms. “And i’m sorry to say i’m a lifeguard, not an angel.” He shrugs. “Slightly less glamorous.”

“I’m so fucking sorry,” Fit is still shaking his head. “But thank you, for saving my life.”

Pac smiles. “I think you’ve thanked me enough,” he licks his lips to prove his point, and somehow Fit’s face manages to get an even brighter shade of red.

“Can we start over? Man to man? Not, you know, man to angel who then kisses without consent?”

Pac laughs. “Sure. But there would’ve been consent, if you’d have bothered to ask.” He winks, and Fit groans quietly into his hands.

Choosing to apparently ignore what Pac said, Fit holds out a hand.

“Fit, nice to meet you. I’m definitely not a fucking weirdo in normal life.”

Pac shakes his hand and grins.

“Pac, nice to meet you. I’m a lifeguard who has just saved someone’s life and received the best form of thanks for it.”

Fit reddens even further.

“Really? Maybe you should tell your HR department.”

“Nah,” Pac shakes his head. “I’d rather just give my thanks back, once the someone isn’t potentially suffering the aftershock of a temporary concussion.”

Fit eyes him curiously. “I think the someone would be agreeable to that.”

With the atmosphere between them now less tense, Pac decides to tease Fit a little.

“So, Fitch,” he begins, trailing a finger along the top of the chair. “Tell me more about what heaven’s like.”

“This is why I was so confused!” Fit exclaims, burying his head in his hands again. “And the first guy I see looking like you, it just felt too good to be true.”

Fit groans again and slumps back against the hammock. “I’m going to sleep, and when I wake up, i’m going to be in my own bed, back in the closet, and this will all have been a bad dream.”

“I’ve gone from an angel to a bad dream?” Pac gasps. “I need to try harder.”

“Can’t hear you, i’m sleeping,” Fit waves a hand dismissively, and turns away from Pac.

Pac grins and pulls the blankets to cover Fit’s body.

“Sleep well, angel.”

—

[loveandmurders]

Hello!! This is one of my first time requesting so forgive me if it’s a little confusing. Could you write something with Thomas Hewitt where his SO has a size kink but cause they’re like insecure about their like medium height (around 5’5) they think they’re too big and tommy comforts them? (Nfsw or fluff) :)

Thank you so much you make such wonderful stuff so I had to ask <33

Hey love, here you finally are! I'm so happy I've done your first request, and I hope you will enjoy it very much <3

BIG, BIG BOY

Gender neutral reader

Warnings: no proof reading, mention of cannibalism/killing/violence, very insecure reader, kink size, NSFW ending (reader receiving)

You were helping the Hewitt family by taking care of the gas station with Mama. They were trusting you enough to leave you there and you had to admit you were quite enjoying yourself. It was nice to talk to people and to lead them right into a death trap. You were always letting know Hoyt or Tommy when you were spotting the perfect group of tourists who could die and be served for dinner. 

You felt useful and you liked how Luda Mae was praising you once you were back home with her, telling you you had done so well, and that the family was so happy to have you. Hoyt always rolled his eyes at that, and Tommy would shyly kiss the top of your head in silent pride. He loved how you seemed to fit so perfectly in his family, no matter how dark the situation was. You didn’t seem to mind the killing at all and it was a relief because he wouldn’t know how to live without you by his side. You were his little ray of sunshine, and you made it so much easier for him to get up every morning and to do his duty. He wasn’t just killing for his family now, it was also to feed you. And he was more than eager to take care of you, like a good partner.

The only thing you both hated with the way things were, was you often spent your day apart from each other. He was at home, in the basement, or at the meat factory while you were at the gas station, or sometimes doing chores in the rest of the house. You could only be together at night or in the early morning.

Today was a little bit different because Thomas was at the gas station too. He was putting away some of the meat in there so the tourists could buy some if they wanted to. And he was also carrying big boxes of goods. You couldn’t stop yourself from watching him doing so. The way his muscles were flexing, the way he was so easily carrying things away, the way he was so focused on what he was doing… God, you were getting horny just by staring at him. After a little while, he felt your eyes on him and he came closer to you, thinking you might be wanting to ask him something. You looked up at him. You couldn’t get any hotter now he was so close to you. So tall next to you.

You had always found Thomas very attractive, and the size difference was definitely killing you. You had always had a thing for tall men, and Tommy wasn’t just tall, he was big and strong. You would have let him take you right on the counter if he had wanted. This was so unfair to be so hot, and you promised yourself to have some funny business in bed right after dinner tonight. You wanted him so badly.

You noticed he was getting very confused as he gently cupped your face to get your attention and you shyly giggled. You were often staring at him - it wasn’t your fault if the man was the most attractive thing on this whole planet and that he was all yours, right? - and he never really understood why. He clearly didn’t see him as attractive, especially because of his face and of the way people always treated him.

“Sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to disturb you in your work” you smiled and he softly shook his head “You’re so disturbing mine though” you giggled and he frowned at that. You took his hand and gently kissed the back of it to reassure him he hadn’t done anything wrong, on the contrary “You’re really nice to look at, you know. It’s hard to stay focused on my work when you’re in my field of vision, that’s all” you winked and you could imagine him blushing under his mask as he looked away. He couldn’t understand how such a pretty and cute thing like you could enjoy him that much. But he was not complaining. “Are you thirsty? I can find you something” you offered, always eager to take care of him as good as he was taking care of you, but he shook his head. He really needed to get back to work and to be as soon as possible at the meat factory.

It was a pity because you would have enjoyed observing him the whole day. You pouted up at him and kept his hand in yours a little longer. Mama was outside, talking with a few tourists and the station was all empty. You just wanted to enjoy a little more of his presence while you could. Tommy really couldn't say no to you so he stayed there, gently stroking your fingers, while you were enjoying the view.

“Am I too clingy?” you asked, just to make sure you weren’t annoying your gentle giant but he was quick to shake his head once again and to use his free hand to cup your face once more. He leaned closer so your foreheads could rest against each other. He never had that kind of attention in his life before you, and he was loving every second of it. You were the best thing that ever happened to him, and he would never push you away.

When Mama came back inside, she asked Thomas to quickly finish his job so he could go help Hoyt at the meat factory. You both reluctantly let go of each other. Luda Mae gently told you that you shouldn’t distract Tommy from his work and you apologised. And later in the day, as Hoyt came by, he also blamed you for Thomas being late and other kinds of things.

You hated how your insecurities so easily woke up. Just those few words and you felt pretty stupid. Of course the family needed your big boy, and you should have known better. Family was going first and you couldn’t be selfish. And once you were starting to listen to those mean voices inside your head, you couldn’t make them shut up. They reminded you how ugly, fat, idiot, boring and pathetic you were. They reminded you that the man was probably getting tired of you and he would very soon get rid of you. They reminded you that you didn’t deserve the kind of happiness you had with him because you were worthless. You were so small compared to Thomas, you clearly didn’t have enough to give him.

Because the gas station stayed pretty empty all day, you had nothing to distract yourself from the terrible words eating you alive from the inside. You hated yourself when you were letting insecurities hurt you that way, and it was only fueling the voices. You couldn’t wait to go home and to bed, hopefully with your gentle giant by your side.

Tommy noticed how silent you were at dinner. At first he thought you might be just a little bit tired. However he was almost certain there was something else. He couldn’t wait to have you all to himself in your shared bedroom. And he promised he would make things better, or he wouldn’t forgive himself for being a bad partner to you.

He helped you with the dishes, before guiding you upstairs. You watched his strong figure and you shivered in desire. At the same time, the mean little voices started to rise again and it forced you to look away from him. How could you deserve him when you were who you were? You weren’t enough. You never had been, and there was no way you would ever be.

You closed the door behind the two of you and he locked it up. He didn’t want anyone to disturb the two of you. He had wanted you so badly earlier and he still did. He needed to feel your skin against his, he needed to make you happy. He cupped your face with both his hands and gently pressed you against the door. You whimpered. You had to tiptoe to try and reach for his lips, and despite that, you were still too short to do so. You pouted. You wrapped your arms around his neck and then you softly jumped to wrap your legs around his waist. He very easily grabbed your thighs to support you.

“Can I?” you whispered as you reached for his mask. You always asked permission before removing it. And he always had a moment of hesitation before answering. No matter how many times you saw his face, he couldn’t suppress the fear that one day you would find him disgusting and repulsive.

He finally nodded and you smiled as you carefully removed the piece of leather from his face. You happily hummed, stroking his cheek before leaning for a kiss. It felt so good to be in his arms, to taste his lips, to be alone with him.

However the nagging voices inside your head were preventing you from fully enjoying the moment. You could feel how hard Tommy was getting against your crotch and you didn’t want to ruin the moment. But you had to ask.

“Hey, baby” you softly whispered and he hummed to let you know he was listening to you and you could keep talking to him. “Am I… good enough?” you heard yourself saying and you cringed so hard. You really were so pathetic. “I mean I know I’m not the prettiest and I’m quite fat and short, and I’m not the smartest either but…” you continued before biting your lips to stop talking. You didn’t even dare looking at Thomas anymore. Fuck you really ruined the mood now.

Thomas was completely lost. He softly let you get back on your feet and you tried to not start crying, because you just wanted to be in his arms. He cupped your chin to make him look at him before signing:

What?

There was no other word that came into his mind. He just couldn’t understand how his perfect little darling could think such a thing about themselves. He frowned when you looked away in shame. No, no, no. He knew what it was to be insecure about himself, and he would not allow you to feel the same. You were perfect! How could you not see it?

Would you undress yourself for me, please?

You almost thought you didn’t understand his gestures correctly.

“Why?” you asked

Because I want you to know how I see you. He explained and you nodded at that. You trusted the man more than anything.

“Alright, but help me. I want to feel your hands on me. I’ve wanted you the whole day” you whined and he gently smiled at you.

He wouldn’t deny you. He came closer again and he started to help you get rid of your clothes. He took his time so you could enjoy the warmth of his skin on yours. Goosebumps were spreading all over your body.

Once you were naked, he took your hand to guide you toward the only mirror of the room. It was settled on the wardrobe and was allowing you to see yourself from head to toe. Thomas was behind you and both his hands were gently stroking your sides. You watched his movement in the mirror and you tried to not think of how hot the situation was, softly shivering under his touch.

I’m going to touch all my favourite parts of you. He signed as you kept watching him in the mirror and you nodded. 

You felt a little bit worried despite the strong desire you felt. 

He turned you around to kiss you and to stroke your face with so much love and tenderness. You felt yourself relaxing a little under his attention. After a few kisses on your lips, forehead, cheeks and down your neck, he put you back fully in front of the mirror. He caressed your shoulders and your arms before taking your hands in his. He hugged you from behind for a little while until he felt you fully leaning against his chest. Then his fingers moved up your arms again and his hands went on your chest and belly and sides. He was always a little bit shy when it was about touching you, even in bed or under the shower. He really was afraid to make you feel uncomfortable and sexuality was something he learnt with you. But the way you were all against his chest and waiting to be shown how much he loved your body was making him bolder. He caressed your skin for a long time, showing you he loved every part of you. He wasn’t too good with words and he didn’t want to say something wrong, so he had thought that using his big hands would be a good plan. He nuzzled into your neck as his fingers traced down from your sides to your butt before going to the lower part of your belly.

His soft caresses had first allowed you to relax and to feel loved. Your mind had focused on the touch so you had been able to quieten down the voices. But now, his fingers were driving you wild. It felt like a fire was consuming the skin he was stroking. In the mirror, you could so easily see how big the man was compared to you too. Taller. Broader. Stronger. You badly needed him.

He was about to kneel down and gently caress and kiss your legs but you brought his right hand on your sex. God, his calloused fingers were going to drive you insane. You let your head go down on his torso as you watched yourself. You could see how your own eyes had darkened with lust and you opened your legs a little wider.

“Please, Tommy” you begged “I really need you” you whispered.

As always, the man couldn’t deny you. Your hand was still on top of his and he let you control the pace and the gesture you needed to get some sexual relief. You never stopped watching yourself. The sight was only adding to your desire. And it seemed it was the same for Thomas. His eyes were glued to the sight in front of him, and his member was getting even harder against your back. The fact that the situation was also making him horny made you feel better about yourself.

“You like my body then?” you asked in between moans of pleasure and he quickly nodded before kissing the top of your head. “I’m not too small or too big for you?” you insisted and it made him pause in the pleasure he was giving you. You whined and grinded against his fingers. Your sex was way too tingly to stand this. He quickened the pace as a way to apologise as he softly groaned into your ear in a way to ask you to stop thinking such things about yourself. With his free hand, he signed Perfect and it made you smile.

“You think I’m perfect?” you hummed and he nodded again “Well I think you’re perfect too. You’re so hot, Tommy, I swear it should be illegal” you babbled as pleasure always made you talk so easily. Not that Thomas minded; he loved to hear praises falling from your lips when he was doing a good job with you.

He continued to play with you in front of your image in the mirror until you came all over your legs and his fingers. You softly panted and rested against his chest a little longer before turning around and hiding your face against him. You closed your eyes. You heard Tommy sucking on his fingers, because he couldn’t let your juices go to waste, before tightly hugging you. You looked up at him.

“Do you need help with anything, big boy?” you asked with a little mischievous smile, feeling so much better now.

And once again, Thomas eagerly nodded at you

[nishayuro]

I don’t know if you still take requests (especially for Stanley) but I’m a very thirsty girl and I miss my men (and I really like your writing) so I ask anyway!

So, if possible, can I have the fluffiest of fluff ? Like the more tooth rotting stuff you can think about that men ? I’ve been having specially hard days and I’d love to have some comfort.

Thanks a lot even for just reading this ! <3

Dr. Stone Stanley Snyder Fluff Headcanons

A/N: Hii! I’m so sorry this took so long T.T I saw this request back then and just started daydreaming but didn’t have energy to write. But here it is!!! I too, miss my man sooooo much

Genre: FLUFF AS FUCK

Warning: You’ll get cavities

GN!Reader

Stanley is an extremely loyal boyfriend. He’s in the military, he knows loyalty by heart. 

During his downtime in the military, he comes home to you and takes you on lots of dates

Be it indoors or outdoors, he’s got you covered

I feel like Stan is the type to bring you to a laser tag arena or an airsoft arena. He wants you to experience what a “battlefield” feels like. (He will let you win because the smile and laugh you make is enough of a win for him) 

He’s paid GOOD money, being a marine commander for an elite force, he’s the type to spoil you rotten. You want a new wardrobe? Go use his card. Want a new gadget, you already know his pin. Want to go dine at an expensive restaurant, you know where his card is. He will give you everything you want. 

I think Stanley LOVES cuddles, he’s away a lot and is rarely with you, so for the times that he is, he will just lay in bed with you in his arms as you both talk about everything you two wanna talk about.

Stanley is someone who will listen to everything you say, his attention to detail and memory is so good. You mentioned this one thing in passing and you’re shocked when he brings it up months later. 

If you’re not comfortable with his smoking, he won’t smoke when with you. He’s addicted to it, sure, but he won’t risk getting you sick. If he really needs to, he might use chewing tobacco instead. 

I think you both would get a matching tattoo together. It would be something you both designed and is meaningful to you both. 

Whenever he’s on his break, he will take you travelling for vacation. 

He’ll take you to beaches, resorts, tourist spots, and to other perfect vacation places. 

You have definitely met Xeno, Stanley introduced you to his childhood friend when he was sure that he was serious with your relationship. You would get along really well with Xeno and you both tease Stanley a lot.

Stanley would be down to wear matching outfits! You both slay so much.

We all know how attractive Stanley is, and he knows it as well. 

There will be times when someone would come up to him and flirt, he will tell them that he is in a committed relationship or will just straight up ignore them.

One time someone was getting really annoying with their flirting while you and Stanley were on a date and you went to use the bathroom. 

As soon as you arrived, he wasted no time to pull you into a deep kiss in front of the other person, making them go away from embarrassment. 

Speaking of kissing, Stanley loves kissing you! 

Be it small pecks or straight out make out sessions

Stanley also really likes skinship, mostly in private. But he doesn’t have a problem with some PDA.

Whenever he’s deployed overseas, he regularly messages and calls or video calls you whenever he has time or has access to his phone. 

He loves when you fall asleep on call with one another

Or when he’s getting ready while you fall asleep and vice versa

Overall, Stanley knows that he’s not present a lot and he wishes he could be with you more. But he loves you so much and he’s dead set to prove that to you in anyway he can. 

“C’mon babe, the movie is gonna start!” You pulled him towards the cinema, popcorn in hand and his hand in the other. “Alright love, chill. You might trip.” He replies, slowing you down. You both got in your seats and waited for the advertisements to end. You would both whisper to each other during the movie, commenting about the scenes quiet enough to not disturb the others. When the movie ended and the lights turned on, Stanley turned towards you. “You have something there” He said, pointing near your lip. “Huh?” you asked, wiping at said place. “Let me.” he said, surprising you as he leaned in and gave you a kiss on the lips while holding your chin, pulling back with a smirk on his face as he got up. “Oi! Stann, what was that for?!” you exclaimed, blood pooling to your cheeks from being flustered. “Nothin’, you were just being cute.” he answered with a smile. He took your hand in his and led you both out of the cinema. As you were walking back to the parking lot, you decided to surprise him yourself. “I love you, Stanley.” You said, looking at him and squeezing your intertwined hands. His eyes widened, ears and cheeks a light shade of pink, “heh, I love you more, y/n.” He answered back with a smile.

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[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

A Story of the BitterSweet boys and Listener going on a vacation to the beach,restaurants, sightseeing and enjoying their day out somewhere nice and tropical

Tropical adventures.

Tries looking up foods in the Bahama's and also candy, so sorry if it like doesn't make sense! I also had to look up tourist attractions in the Bahamas.

It was a hassle to scrape the money together but, here they were in the Bahamas enjoying the tropical breeze. Alphonse was talking about the candy he got from a concert store as Boo rubbed sunscreen on him.

"Al, did you seriously only want to come because of the candy?" Asking, Seth lifted his glasses and quirked a brow. The brunette watched as the candy loving pinkette snorted and waved him off.

"No! I also wanted to try out other stuff here! Like the food! Asking if I only came for the candy." Huffing, Alphonse turned to Boo who was now applying sunscreen on his face. Eating a piece of Guava duff Alphonse then looked at Boo.

"What's that word? Big back? Yeah that's you. Fat fuck." Laughing, Seth turned as Alphonse lightly smacked his head. The brunette snatched a piece of candy, reading the wrapper it said mamba.

Smiling Seth enjoyed the taste of strawberry, rolling the wrapper he flicked it to Alphonse. Who rolled his eyes and looked back at Boo who finished putting the sunscreen on.

"Boo, back me up here!" Whinging, Alphonse leaned om Boo as they applied sunscreen as well. The baker sighed and looked a the two men.

"Seth, we know Al's fat." Bluntly saying, making Alphonse gasp again. "But also Seth you only wanted to go sightseeing." Adding on made Seth huff.

Both watched as Boo stood up and took off their beach cover. Showing off their swimming outfit and giggled seeing their faces.

"Luckily I'm helping us have a mixture of both. Now let's go swimming!" Excitedly Boo walked to the water. The boys rushed after them and started playing in the water.

The beautiful water was amazing to see in person compared to what you saw in movies. It truly didn't do it justice as the trio took pictures together on a small camera. Boo bought it to collect memories with all three.

After swimming for a few hours the trio then went to go eat at a restaurant. There was a lovely older woman that explained the dishes and helping the three order something they'd would like. Enjoying the nice atmosphere the restaurant had the trio talked amongst themselves.

Boo showed off the pictures they took of the boys, giggling as they handed the camera over. There was many of them were Alphonse got buried under the sand with sunglasses on. Seth holding a cute sovereign that he got from a street vendor.

Even seeing pictures of earlier that day, where they went sightseeing. The Garden of the Groves was beautiful to see in person, it was very peaceful as they walked through it. There was pictures where Alphonse was looking at Boo smiling softly. For Seth he had one where his eyes were looking at the waterfall in the grove.

Both looked very handsome in the pictures and letting them know make the blush a bit. After reminiscing of the day the three finally had their food given to them.

"There is so much we need to see." Sugar said as they ate their dish. Humming at how delicious the Bahamian curry chicken was, this made the boys smile.

"Don't worry Boo, we got like a week to see everything we can." Laughing lightly, Alphonse ate his cracked conch liking how the tangy dipping sauce was.

"This is really nice, even if we don't go everywhere I'm glad we were able to go." The brunette looked at both of them, Alphonse nodded at Seth's words. Then asked for a bite of Seth's Bahamian craw-fish, the shorter man rolled his eyes and let him have a bite.

Giggling, Sugarboo then asked if Al wanted some of theirs, making the three swap bites of their food. After finishing the three went to their hotel and talked of what they were going to do tomorrow. But, even if they didn't do everything on this trip the three of them will definitely scrap money together to do this again.

[auspicioustidings]

Lost Boys

1. Horror Fan

Summary: Shameless COD Lost Boys AU as an excuse to try writing some smut because @ohbo-ohno has been killing me.

Words: 3.7k

CW: Dubcon bordering on noncon, rough sex

One thing about Santa Carla she could not stomach? All the damn locals.

She was used to working in Coney Island and she had thought this boardwalk out in California wouldn't be much different. She had been immediately proven wrong when she had arrived a week ago, moving in to a falling apart cabin out on the edge of town that Keegan had sworn up and down would be her dream home if she was willing to fix it up. He hadn't really explained how he came to own the place, but then he was the definition of a carny if she ever knew there to be one. She was pretty sure there wasn't one amusement park that man had not worked at, although conversations always seemed to draw back to Santa Carla.

It wasn't like his charming convincing had been the only reason she'd found herself here. She loved Coney Island, had practically grown up on the Thunderbolt, was damn near inconsolable when they shut it 5 years ago. But Coney Island now was not the same as the one she grew up with, everyone who worked there felt it. The rides were falling apart, closing or being torn down. Two people she knew had been shot this year alone. The place turned into an open air brothel at night it felt like, and not in the fun way back when it had all been music and moonlight and sex and rock and roll. It was sad.

Plus she was dirt poor, the decline of the amusements meaning she wasn't picking up as much work. If Keegan had wormed his way into her head with all his talk about how dangerous a neighbourhood she lived in, how much safer an actual house would be, how if someone would renovate it he wouldn't even charge rent because it would really help him out since he was currently travelling, well then she had been stupid enough not to pick up on the obvious trap.

Falling apart and very eerily decorated cabin aside, her first day on the Boardwalk felt like a series of increasing red flags. She loved the scent of the place, the bright cars grinding against their chains as they were dragged bodily up to the summit of the coaster under the hot sun, the sticky sweetness of candy apples being cut through with the salt the surfers dragged with them from the sea, the slight undertone of something mischievous, something even sinister. Any boardwalk she had been to had that same undercurrent, the same lurking sense of danger that sent her heartbeat running in excitement. This one it was dialled all the way to 11.

"Oi chiquita! I've not seen you around here before."

She turned. Surfer, well 2 of them actually. The one who had spoken was older than her in a way that really made his handsomeness cause her to scold herself. No sleeping with older men on your first day in a new city, even if the accent was like molasses. The one next to him was younger. Both incredible looking if she was honest, Keegan had not been kidding when he had said the people in Santa Carla were deathly attractive.

"Maybe I'm a tourist" she replied.

"Ah a pretty thing like you visiting all alone? You'll get eaten right up" said the other, both of them looking at her with an amusement over a joke she was not in on.

"Good thing I'm so bitter then, reckon I'll get spat right back out."

They laughed and she kept a light look of friendly amusement on her face, internally thinking that these guys were rude as fuck. She near jumped out of her skin when she felt a breath at her neck, whipping her head around to find a female surfer had sniffed at her throat.

"Ella huele dulce, ella sabrá más dulce" the newcomer purred.

"Atrás Valeria" the older man snapped.

"You're so up tight Alejandro" Valeria laughed meanly before turning to look at her, eyes dragging up and down in heated appraisal. "If you get bored of them, you'll come find me won't you dalzura?"

With that the woman sauntered off towards the beach, all arrogance and sex appeal. It wasn't like she hadn't heard her fair share of pick-up lines and come ons, it was practically a given when you worked at places like these, but it was rarer for a woman to come on to her and rarer still for the woman to have such an aggression about her. She'd be lying if it didn't cause a little spark of excitement to zip up her spine.

Alejandro and the other man watched Valeria go with something like suspicion.

"Be careful after dark, the boardwalk gets crowded with all sorts" the younger man said with a knowing wink.

"If you're still around tomorrow in the sunshine, me and Rudy will be on the waves" Alejandro added before they both took off after Valeria, seemingly intent on getting into some sort of fight.

Odd trio she thought, but most people who lived near places like this were. The locals only got odder as the day went on.

An absolute giant of a man in a hood whose eyes had narrowed in on her when she passed him, an exhibit in a freak show. The chains on him must have been for show, but the way they strained when he had lunged at her actually did make her jump.

The Southern man who seemed to have some sort of control over all of the game stalls, told her when she had tried out the ring toss that his shadows had been telling him she had won most of the games she had tried but not taken any prizes. It ran a chill up her spine the way he eyed her when he introduced himself, the name Graves spilling off his tongue like whisky.

The one who actually gave her a job, Alex, seemed normal enough, the only thing out of the ordinary being a false leg. Well normal enough until it became apparent he was very knowledgeable about Santa Carla being the murder capital of the world. She didn't like that he spoke about it like it was something exciting, but as long as she had money in hand to operate a carousel she could overlook his quirks. He told her she could work the evening shift after watching her carefully run through things, proving that this was all familiar to her. This one had brass rings, she knew she'd probably spend her evening ducking out of the way of them when rowdy ride goers decided they would rather hit someone than redeem the ring for a free ride.

--

With the last wash of sunlight she wandered the shops around the area, sliding into a video store just as night fell to see if she couldn't find something to watch when she would get home after her first shift. Maybe Hellraiser was out on VHS now, she had missed it in the theatre and Keegan had told her it was fun.

"Hello there. John Price, how can I help?"

Back in New York it wasn't uncommon to hear a British accent, but this was the first one she had heard here. The man it came from was tall and had a hell of a beard. Bit eccentric looking with a fishing hat on his head, but with the people she was coming across today that seemed par for the course.

"Hi sir! Is Hellraiser out yet?" she asked as politely as she could muster. She knew that she was as much a carny as Keegan and that it tended to make respectable older people intensely dislike her from the get go if she didn't do everything to assure them she was an upstanding young lady.

"Horror fan?"

"A friend recommended it, to be honest I'm not sure what it's about."

She heard the bell going off, more people coming into the store. Her eyes caught on them, not least because one of them was in a skull mask. Tall as well, God so many people on this Boardwalk dwarfed her. Mr Price reacted very much like he knew them and was keeping an eye on them. The one with the mohawk was staring openly at her, leaning over to whisper something to the one with the moustache. Probably trouble makers, young men who lived in the area and were generally a nuisance on the Boardwalk. It got her back up a little, she had always hated people like them bullying everyone else, menacing businesses in the area because they were bored.

Mr Price had his arms crossed as him and the masked one stared at one another. To try de-escalate whatever this was she put a hand gently to one of his forearms.

"I'm happy to take any recommendations from you though."

Her attempt both worked and failed. Mr Price did turn his attention back to her, giving her a soft smile that all but made her melt. He seemed like a genuinely lovely man, the first one of the day. It was somewhat ruined by the boisterous laughter of the one with the mohawk.

"Look at this wee lassie, speaking all bonnie" he laughed, his rumbling accent and mocking putting her firmly in a place between annoyed and aroused.

He took a few steps forward, getting into her space. God he didn't half loom over her and he was not even the tallest man here. With him on one side of her and Mr Price on the other she felt like a prey animal. She could not tear her eyes away from the Scottish man as he grinned down at her. He was magnetic in the way watching an acrobat was, it felt like someone could die at any moment but she couldn't help but look. His rough hand carded through her hair and settled at her neck and she was sure he was about to kiss her. There was something terrifying about his presence the more she was in it, if he kissed her she thought her fight or flight might fail her and go instead to freeze.

"That's enough" Mr Price said, snapping her out of the odd trance she felt she was in. "You have a shift to get to love, on you go" he continued, putting a firm hand to the small of her back and steering her a little to get her moving towards the door.

The other man only moved when the one in the mask wrapped a gloved hand around the back of his neck, squeezing like she imagined someone would do to an errant mutt. It wasn't until she was out in the open air and gulping in breaths that she realised she had never told Mr Price she had a shift that evening. Word must travel fast here she supposed.

--

Her first night on the Boardwalk had put her out of her mind. God it was like being punched in the face with the ghost of what Coney Island should have been; swarmed with bodies that choked out all the oxygen, making it difficult to breathe anything that wasn't thick with the taste of the writhing masses. It made her sick in a way that bordered on delirium.

The carousel was always full, the music throbbing all the way into her molars. The bright colours flooding with artificial light meant she couldn't see much beyond the machine, feeling like she existed on a tiny island of horses and bodies. Touch was the only sense she felt she could trust now, a sensation that was what made her fall in love with this line of work in the first place. She would drag her hands past the horses, grip the brass rings so tight it made her knuckles white before returning them to the dispenser for the next person to try their hand, walk against the direction of the floor just to feel the breeze prickle goosebumps on her skin.

The hand on her arm felt searing hot.

"There you are, didn't even introduce yourself before you were running off like a scared little doe."

The man in the skull mask had a voice like gravel, speaking right into her ear to be heard over the music. It made it feel intimate knowing that the sound of him would not travel to anyone else, that it was only for her. She could not let him know that she was scared of him, of any of them. If she was going to work here, she needed the locals to know she could hold her own, that she wasn't someone for them to mess around with.

"I'm not scared, certainly not of you" she lied, puffing out her chest.

"Prove it."

He left her standing there dumbstruck, shaking and feeling slick between her legs from the way he had growled it into her ear. The moment he was off of the carousel it was like he had melted into the crowd beyond. Alex showed up at some point, she didn't know how long it had been, and told her that he would take over. His eyes were bright and excited and it made her want to throw up.

--

He was waiting for her, the skull mask man. Her stomach was doing flips at the sight of him on a bike. She thought it might fully turn itself inside out when the Scottish man materialised behind her, pressing his nose to her pulse point before tugging at her earlobe with his teeth. Sharp, they felt sharp.

"Ghost says yer naw a fraidey cat, reckons you'd be willing to prove it" he cooed into her ear, big hands wrapping around her waist and lifting her onto the back of the bike behind Ghost. "Better hold on, he's naw going tae go slow."

Before she could get herself right back off of the bike one of Ghost's hands grabbed her arm, wrenching it around his waist and holding it there in a vice grip. When the bike took off she had little choice but to wrap the other arm around to avoid being thrown off, screaming into his ear to let her go. He did, putting his second hand back to the handles. At the speed they were going it didn't help, she had to keep clinging. She heard the howling of the Scottish man, on his own bike speeding along next to them.

She was scared out of her mind but the solidness of the body she was wrapped around and the hard vibrating of the seat between her legs was torturous in a way that was so sickeningly incompatible with her fear.

When they stopped she was dazed, trying to resist the whine that wanted to escape when the engine cut out and the bike stilled beneath her. The body in front of her shifted, moving until he was sat facing her. She put her hands to his shoulders, meaning to use them as leverage to push herself up and off the bike but instead The Scottish man pushed her back down from behind, his hand quickly moving from her shoulders down her front.

"Fuck baby, ye enjoy that huh? Could see ye grinding down whenever Si revved up" he groaned, groping roughly at her tits.

This was wrong, she should not be here. She should not be doing this. The adrenaline was so she could get out of this situation, not so she could moan loudly when his fingers found her nipple and fucking twisted.

"I already know you're soaked, can smell it pet" Ghost said, almost cruel, before biting off a glove and shoving a hand into her pants. He stroked two fingers up the length of her cunt, making sure his nail caught her clit the second time and laughing at her when she cried out at the sensation. Watching him withdraw his hand and show his glistening fingers to the man behind her made humiliation burn through her.

"Open up Johnny."

She was caught in the middle of them as Johnny took Ghost's fingers in his mouth, moaning as he messily suckled her off of them. There was no music here, no crowds to cover the noises of Johnny sloppily choking himself on Ghost's fingers, his saliva dripping onto her shoulder.

"Please Si, please let me eat her" he begged around Ghost's fingers and fuck if that didn't make her clench.

"Patience Johnny" Ghost scolded in response, withdrawing his fingers and grabbing at her jeans, pulling them off of her. It was a little awkward with how they were positioned, but once he got one leg off of her foot he just left her jeans dangling from the other, not bothering to get them all the way off now that he had the access he wanted.

The cool night air smacked onto her bare skin like an open palm. He rucked up her shirt next, pushing her down until her lower back hit the bike in the process so that her head was hanging off the end, lined right up with Johnny's dick which was visibly straining against his pants.

She tried to bring herself back up only to scream when a hand slapped hard onto her pussy, the thin fabric of her soaked panties doing little to soften the blow.

"Stay fucking still doll unless I tell you otherwise" Ghost growled at her.

He didn't take her panties off, just shoved them out of the way so he could spear two fingers into her. She yelped, trying to move back but only managed to grind her face against Johnny who growled long and low.

"So fucking tight" Ghost hissed, pumping his fingers in and out, "Johnny get her to relax would you?"

She could hardly breathe when Johnny leaned over her, clothed dick pushing relentlessly against her face, so that he could grip onto her hips and start lapping at her clit over her panties. She weakly pounded her fists against his thighs but if he could feel it then he wasn't reacting, seemingly lost in the task at hand.

"That's it, such a little slut for it, making a fucking mess of my bike."

It was overwhelming, the lack of oxygen, the feeling of Johnny sucking and licking at her clit like he was made for it, the fingers pistoning in and out, Ghost's degrading. Her hips tried desperately to buck up but Johnny only growled like an animal and held them roughly down as she came, not letting up for even a second.

The tears were streaming from her eyes by the time they made her cum again, a delicious stretch coming from Ghost adding a third finger. Johnny was rock hard against her face, rutting into her and starting to whine.

"Si, please. Please I'll be good. I'll be so good. Need her bonnie mouth around my cock or I'm gonna die. Please" he begged incoherently.

She was boneless when Johnny stood, giving her some breathing room. The pathetic whine she gave when Simon's fingers left her cunt should have been embarrassing, but she was barely able to formulate a full thought. The sound of clothing being adjusted should have been the first clue that they were nowhere near done. The sight of a throbbing cock at her lips was a pretty big second one.

"Come on, there ye go lass, fuuuuuck that's it" Johnny hissed as he pushed himself into her mouth. Nobody had ever been in her mouth at this angle, her head dangling upside down. He kept pushing in even when her panic response set in at the intrusion, hands battering against his legs and she gagged around him and tried to shift away, further towards where Ghost was sitting.

She screamed around the cock in her throat when Ghost rammed himself into her.

"I said stay fucking still!" he growled, leaving no time for adjustment before setting a hard and fast pace, every thrust sending her jolting back onto Johnny's dick.

Fuck it was so much, she was so full, she couldn't fucking breathe. Johnny had a hand around her throat, feeling his own bulge there as he fucked in and out of her.

"Steamin' Jesus, you take cock like a fucking dream bonnie."

The reverence he said it with sent her hurtling towards another orgasm, the pain still just on the side of pleasure.

"Fucking slut, trying to milk me aren't you? Want me to cum in this pretty little cunt and knock you up doll? Is that it?"

"Fuck Si, need tae cum, please let me cum."

Ghost was growling, not giving her a break as he fucked her through her orgasm to the point that the overstimulation was painful. Johnny's thrusts were erratic now, making it even harder to figure out when to breathe.

"Earn it, make her cum again."

She was pretty sure she would die if she came again, but Johnny leaned over her body and went right back to work, slobbering all over her clit as Ghost continued to mercilessly piston in and out of her. She tried to squirm, tried to do anything to get Johnny's mouth the fuck off of her. The hand around her throat squeezed.

"Fucking take it" he growled against her clit, a sharp sting from an incisor grazing against it jolting her before he sucked hard. She howled around his cock and felt herself squeeze hard against Ghost's as she saw stars.

"That's it, good fucking girl" Ghost hissed, burying himself to the hilt and letting that delicious squeeze milk him dry inside her.

She was so thoroughly fucked out that when Johnny came down her throat she couldn't swallow, just choking and sputtering as she hung limply off of the bike. When hands gently pushed her back up so she was sat upright the blood all rushing back down from her head made her pass out.

It could have been seconds or hours later when she screamed herself back into consciousness, feeling the sharp sting of teeth sinking into the flesh of her throat.

[morimakesfanart]

Sindria's Prophet #41

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[AO3] [wattpad]

Sinbad x OC

*Mori goes to horny mecha *More sex ed things *Emotional/tonal whiplash ~POV Sinbad~ Mori couldn't keep their eyes off of him for days, but they turned away every time Sinbad returned their gaze. He was definitely getting under their skin. It was only a matter of time before they fully became his, but he wasn't certain he could make it happen before he left for the Kou Empire. It was only after he sat at his desk and couldn't seem to finish a single document that he couldn't deny Mori was under his skin too. Even the waves were pointing him away from his desk.

However, the King couldn't exactly leave when he had just started working -that was what Zepar was for. The bird circled the Black Libra Tower, and when it entered through an open window of Mori's office it wasn't his Beautiful Prophet inside. That was definitely Ja'far leaving the room holding a bunch of scrolls. And when he entered the court yard, the General was headed towards the White Capricorn Tower. Something told Sinbad that Ja'far was heading his way without the waves. He dropped control of the bird.

Sure enough, Ja'far entered his office with the scrolls and put them on his desk. "Sin, is what Mori wrote in these true?" Just glancing at the labels he knew, "I haven't read those ones yet, but I'm sure they are." "Read them now." Ja'far had not looked this upset with him in years. "I'll wait."

--- ~POV Sharrkan~ Mori was ranting and it was far worse than anything Yam had ever said. "Yeah, no! I don't care how pretty these are or how much of a tourist attraction they are! You have to stop selling and supplying quartz and wooden dildos!" The Prophet pointed one such facile at the group before her. "These materials are porous. They can't be properly sterilized, so they will eventually lead to infections no matter what orifice they're shoved into!" Sindria's best swordsman was stuck between covering his face or ears while Mori 'educated' him and the staff of the Red Light District. This was a mistake. 'Can the King just show up and kill me right now????' She sighed. "You can make a similar-ish affect to quartz with glass right? That's actually safe to use, easy to sterilize, and they can handle a wide range of temperatures so you can even use them for temperature play." The Prophet twirled the crystalline dick while talking. "I was surprised when I saw how advanced this country's glass is so there shouldn't be a problem making dildos out of safe materials with the glass work here." Sharrkan had thought she would just take notes or something and leave, not try to fix everything right then and there!!! What materials were safe, what practices were dangerous; 'didn't matter that she was also teaching them things they could do/use instead that would work better. Wasn't Mori supposed to be a huge virgin nerd like Yam??? Why did she know so much about all of this? There's no way this was just from her visions. The staff were the ones taking notes instead of the Prophet. 'At least they seem to be enjoying themselves.'

--- ~POV Sinbad~ Ja'far brought the remaining Fate scrolls Sinbad had yet to read, but only really wanted him to read parts of 2 of them for the conversation. The contents were telling, both in his mistakes of the past, and Ja'far's current glare. When his Beautiful Prophet first told him that he ran away from responsibility using 'Fate,' he thought he had found the true answer in the waves. But that was a contradiction. The waves were caused by people's decisions, so even if they guide people to opportunities it doesn't remove their agency. Without realizing it, Sinbad had fallen into another phantasm to protect himself from guilt. Some of the comments Mori made since they met had hinted at the real reason but it was clear she had no intention of telling him directly. All of the scrolls had signs of being edited here and there, but not these two. They were still in process. And so there was the truth written directly in the paragraphs after his release from slavery.

...He had long forgotten how to ask for emotional support ... Those feelings would fester every time he made another mistake until he was able to fully replace his guilt with the acceptance of 'Fate' as inevitable. He wouldn't be able to acknowledge his own potential for evil for another 15~ years...

That last line held the answer. 'His own potential for evil.' That was the point Mori was really talking around all this time. In her visions he hadn't been able to accept that side of himself until it was too late. He knew he was capable of such things on a factual level considering how he viewed some of his Kingly actions as 'necessary evils,' but that wasn't the same as acknowledging that truth in his Heart. The reason he had longed for the ways of his youth was because back then he hadn't done anything that would haunt the rest his life; he had yet to gamble in desperation only to hurt those around him. But even that wasn't really the truth. When Sinbad had read about when he left home after capturing the Dungeon all he could think of was how that action damned everyone in his village just as was revealed in the scrolls in front of him. He had been making this mistake since the start. 'Just what have I been doing all this time?'

Ja'far's darkened stare waited until he got through the 2nd scroll. "This is so much worse than how you made it sound. This is more than some kid thinking he's the chosen one." A hand went to his head as he tried to wrap his mind around everything. "Sin, why do you think we all swore our lives to help you achieve your dream?"

Sinbad couldn't look away from the scrolls. Doing so would only mean seeing the disappointment in his friend's eyes. He had spent so long keeping what happened in Parthevia a secret. There was nothing he could do about it now.

"I know you don't like sharing your plans, but I thought... Did you ever trust us to help you?! What was the point of gathering all of us then??"

The King opened his mouth, and the realization that he couldn't say the 'right' answer and believe his own words hit him much harder than Ja'far's accusations. His heart started racing to match the flow of the waves. The General may have only read those 2 scrolls but Sinbad had read everything leading up to them, so more of his past was fresh in his mind. Sure, he reached out to people to teach him things periodically, but any time he ran into a real problem he always took on that burden alone. Sinbad had expected 'support' from his Household Members and citizens, but never 'help.'

Sinbad lost control over his expression. "That's part of why I decided to change this path I'm on. Mori made it clear that I will repeat the mistakes of my past if I don't start relying on you all even when I..." He was unable to find the right words to finish his sentence.

"Sin." Ja'far practically hissed his name. "If you don't fix this bad habit of yours then I'll kill you myself, just like I promised all those years ago, before you can cause the 2nd Calamity."

"I'll count on that." He would rather that than be the one that almost destroyed the world. Taking a deep breath didn't help nearly as much as he hoped. "I think we've humored Mori long enough. I need to know for sure how I'm connected to the 2nd Calamity." ---

~POV Mori~ To be honest, I wasn't expecting the management of the Red Light District to believe me right away. But apparently, being officially announced as the Prophet was really good PR because they were very excited to receive some of my 'prophecies for the betterment of Sindria.' The waves had grown dangerously high during my info dumping. If I didn't know how much of a change a sexual revolution could cause from reading history I might have been concerned. Instead, it made my heart swell with pride.

Returning to my room empty handed was a bit disappointing, but it did make it easier to sneak back without being noticed. It also gave me time to make a space the bunch of the new glass dildos I preordered. I was definitely looking forward to the future.

"Finally!" Sharrkan groaned as we exited the district. "If I knew you were going to take so long figuring out-" Both of us froze in the gold gilded doorway.

'Why is Sinbad entering the Red Light District in the middle of the day???' That thought was immediately counter when I noticed Ja'far standing next to him. That meant he was here for official business, not pleasure. 'Why am I only now realizing I could have waited for him to leave the country before attempting this????' At least I wasn't carrying a bag of dicks. That would have been the most damning evidence. --- ~POV Sinbad~ When the guards had revealed that Mori was escorted to the Red Light District by Sharrkan, Sinbad was unwilling to wait for their return. However, something wasn't quite adding up to his expectations. Mori was happily walking out of the Red Light District, and Sharrkan was drained and depressed besides her.

Before the King could say anything, Mori greeted them. "Hello, you're Majesty, Ja'far! I was originally going to tell you after writing up a report first, but since you're here I'll let you know now: I realized I could share medical information for reproductive health here." She gestured behind her, "I just finished my first trip to see what is the current common knowledge, so I could better understand how I can help."

'Does that means Sharrkan didn't drag Mori here?' Even so she was talking a bit too quickly. She was definitely nervous about something.

Ja'far responded before the King could gather his thoughts. "Mori. You do remember that you promised not to invent anything, don't you?" His smile was not the nice one.

"Yes," she admitted without skipping a beat. "However I don't need to invent anything that we aren't already working on to help here." Mori's smile was unwavering.

Sinbad sought direct confirmation. "You really came here to figure out ways to improve this place?" ---

~POV Mori~ "Of course! Who do you think I am?" I said, you know, like a liar. I placed one hand on my hip, and the other over my heart for added flare. "The whole reason I came here was because the rubber experiments are coming along, and the same material can be used to make comfortable condoms you can actually feel through. That way no one has an excuse to not use them." The King and estranged prince coughed at my words. Ja'far's eyes widened. I took his lack of comment as a sign to continue. "We are already working towards rubber gloves. And what are the fingers on gloves other than tubes? We can make condoms by just making bigger tubes." I gave a perfect customer service smile to the man in charge of finances. "From my visions, I know how much trouble 'people' get into when they can't deny their desires, so I thought I could at least help with this part of the problem." "Mx. Prophet," Ja'far took a few steps forward and grabbed my hands. "You should have told me sooner! Something like is invaluable with a King like Sinbad." 'Fish, meet hook.' I softened my expression to lean into this pity angle. "I understand. I know how many complaints you've had to deal with because of him."

((Blatant Rose of Versailles reference ;3)) --- ~POV Sinbad~ This was a dilemma. Even though Sinbad had stopped taking partners, his Beautiful Prophet was none the wiser. This was a good opportunity to enlightened her, but there was something else he had to take care of first. Ja'far might have disliked Mori when they first met, but ever since the rebellion in Balbadd was stopped things started to change. They had started having periodic moments like this when their thoughts aligned. Sin didn't like it. He gently separated their hands and received their attention at the same time. "Hey now, I stopped asking for call girls weeks ago." On one hand, if Mori wanted something, Sinbad wanted to make sure she got it -if that was the assistance of one of his Generals so be it. But on the other hand, he didn't want anyone else catching Mori's eye. When he had heard that Sharrkan brought her to the Red Light District he had thought that one of his Household Members had betrayed him. From the look of things it was starting to seem like, instead of Sharrkan, it was Ja'far he should have been worried about. Ja'far took a few steps back. His eyes and brow scrunched in great disappointment and complete lack of fucks for the topic. "I think we will all feel better with this added protection considering your track record." "Yes, well..." There was no denying that. Sinbad cleared his throat into a fist to buy time as he listed the facts in his head: '-Mori has already admitted to her feelings for me before so clearly she wants to be with me. '-Mori is also aware of my own feelings even though she hasn't fully accept it yet. '-Mori has started working on condoms that are comfortable. 'She is clearly working towards our future, so we can have a long honeymoon before growing our family!!' Mori's expression was only marginally better than Ja'far's. "Are.... you sick?" The Prophet still trusted her visions far more than anything he could say. "I'm fine. I promise." This was a failure of a conversation. Sharrkan's snickering rubbed salt in the wound. There was nothing the Womanizer of the Seven Seas could say to clear his name. "...Okay." She clearly didn't believe him. Mori lightly clapped their hands together with a smile. "Well, on that bombshell, we'll let you go do whatever you were gonna do in the Red Light District." Regret. Humiliation. Was how he spent his life really such a bad thing for a future spouse? Wouldn't his experience and expertise mean that he would be guaranteed to satisfy them? Ja'far brought the topic around to their true purpose. "Actually Mori, we came to get you. We have some questions about the future you saw in your visions."

--- ~POV Mori~ The room they brought me to was the same one that lead to the balcony where I had dinner with Sinbad more than a month ago. As soon as we entered, the King started taking off his rings. Confusion spiked my anxiety. Sinbad gave me a reassuring smile. "I noticed during our meetings about Fate that you keep looking at my rings. When I remembered you know my Djinn's abilities it was obvious what you were worried about." He took off his remaining metal vessels and placed them on a coffee table. "I know I'll never use any of these on you, but actions speak louder than words at times like these." Ja'far followed his King's example and placed his metal vessels on the the table as well. I knew I looked at Zepar's ring a few times when talking about Fate, but I thought I made it seem like my eyes were wandering. I couldn't respond. My brain was still catching up and accepting what was happening. 'This isn't going to be about his trip to the Kou Empire...' I had already explained what visions I had of that trip during a meeting about preparing for it, but it was still the most likely topic I could think of. It wasn't until they settled in amongst the plush seating that I realized I should sit down too. Sinbad's expression went serious but he didn't feel angry. After a moment's hesitation he looked me in the eye. "The person who causes the 2nd Calamity is me, isn't it?" . . . . . . 'How????' The thought was immediately followed by the realization that since I hadn't responded right away there was no way they would believe anything other than admittance. I couldn't even consider the option. ((So that emotional whiplash of a cliffhanger, amiright? The chapter took so long to come out because- Surprised! That eye infection I had came back and being on the medication this time really messed me up. It's a stronger antibiotic since the last apparently didn't fully knock it out of me. I couldn't go outside without catching on fire and passing out, and I had to hyper monitor my diet. The doctor said I'm past the next stage so the dosage was cut in half. I feel more like a person again :D I'll be on it for at least another month. Wish me luck!! This chapter was also delayed because I ended up deciding to do Artober daily this year. It was my first year making a piece every day since Jake Parker ruined Inktober by trademarking it and doing a plagiarism. Anyway, I really enjoyed the challenge :D Inspired me to work on more of my original work and things. On that note, the next chapter is going to be delayed because I want to get a lucid dream one shot out by December 7th. I definitely chose that date for no reason in particular. It absolutely has nothing to do with it being a Jujutsu Kaisen dream. Promise UwU I also have an original piece I'm nearly done writing, but I'll wait to finalize it until I have the next chapter of Sindria's Prophet posted :3 The world and this country is on fire but that doesn't mean it's the end. We have survived every day up to this one, we can survive another. We will preserve.))

[amethysia]

alright, I'm caving because my brain won't stop thinking about it. Even though I know so little about Gravity Falls and I've lived vicariously through others since five-ever.

This is a long one, so buckle up.

So with the book of bill, some folks have said that bill can get reincarnated. My brain was like, "well, how about a back in time/different universe reincarnation au?" And this reincarnation makes Bill born as the older brother of Fiddleford (either as a fraternal twin or just by a year). Let's say Bill's real name is Williford Cyrus McGucket, because yknow, why not. He's definitely the sassier, charismatic brother, with some playful bickering. He's a bit heftier with black hair, and has a weird passion for bowties. He and Fiddleford are close and decide to go to the same college together. Bill goes to become an astronomer and astro physicist. He meets Stanford when he visits his brother's dorm room.

The three of them become close and after graduation, work together.

At some point, Bill catches the feels for Ford. However, he notices at one point, Fiddleford also has feelings for Stanford. Fidds doesn't outright say anything, but Bill can tell, because he knows his brother. Now, in this world, he actually loves others more, albeit he still has a rather arrogant attitude. So he has a moment to think about it, writes some letters, and 'quits' working with his brother and Ford. He packs his things and heads westward.

Fidds and Ford are shocked that he left, but reads his letters. Essentially, it says to them that he loves them both, wants to try something new with his life, and who knows from there. PS, you two make a cute couple. They both get nervous and embarrassed that Bill would say that, but in a cute turn of events, they wind up confessing to each other anyhow.

Bill is pretending to not be sad, trying to be happy for his brother and Ford, but can't help but throw himself a pity party when he stays in another state, still trying to figure out what to do with his life (we find out Bill is a wine snob thanks to this moment in his life). At some point a certain door to door salesman comes along who looks an awful lot like Ford. Confused, Bill thinks something weird happened to Ford, but the salesman is obviously Stanley. Bill befriends him and realizes that he could help him out in his business endeavors, due to his 'genius' and giving him the opportunity to figure out his own future if this goes well.

They hatch up a scheme of making an oddities tourist attraction ala Ripley's, in a place that is affordable, has "gullible" locals, and is something they can run with minimum effort and can make the most profit. (Btw, because of this, our boy Stanley dodges jail time)

Stanley and Bill create the Mystery Shack. Because Stanley has been on adventures with Ford and Bill has knowledge of weird things, they are able to take the time to explore Gravity Falls and catch cryptids and other curiosities there. It becomes an odd place where there's fake dead fairies, but a real mummy corpse. Fake cursed gold, but a probably very real cursed spear. They are both charismatic swindlers, but amazing business partners. Because of their similarities, they become great friends over time. "Mr. Decipher" likes to wear a top hat and a gold colored sport coat (Stan: "that jacket makes your hips stand out, like you're triangular shaped."). "Mr. Mystery" wears a fez and a nice suit. (Bill: "At least I don't look like a Shriner...")

Many years later, with a fairly successful, somewhat shadely run, business, Dipper and Mabel arrive. Stan is nervous and does everything to prepare, even asking Bill to shape up a bit too. Bill agrees, because Stan has been a great friend to him and it's amusing to see him so excited.

They have a wild summer. (Bill is a bad influence for Mabel in the party hard sense, but he also becomes a bit of a mentor to Dipper, due to his scientific background.)

At one point, Ford and Fiddleford stop by to visit. They all catch up. Bill is kind of awkward, even though he's written to them, called, 'made peace with being single', but still a little sad over missing out on a potential relationship. Ford thanks Bill for helping him and Fiddleford get together all those years ago and Bill gives him a sober and solemn "you're welcome, Sixer". The visit is pleasant and the rest of summer runs its course.

A day after Fidds and Ford leave, Stan sits down with Bill. He knows the story about why he stopped working with them and how putting distance between them made their bond with him grow. He also thanks him for their business, their friendship, and for helping with the twins. Bill is also grateful and thanks Stan for putting up with him all these years.

Mabel at some point asks Stan how he got such a weird boyfriend. Stan obviously gets all, "What are you talking about?!" At another point, Mabel asks Bill how he landed her grunkle Stan. Bill just stares at her and asks, "Little too much candy today, ey Shooting Star?"

Later that day, Stan is the first to relay Mabel's question and Bill laughs, "you too, huh?"

Stan asks if Bill wants to go out at sea some day on the Stan-of-War and enthusiastically Bill agrees.

Hope you enjoyed my nonsense. Sorry if a lot of it is rather inaccurate, but I guess that's what AUs are for? Lol. Cheers!

[weareallgonnaliveforawhile]

Mob Psycho x Saiki K AU/ Kokomi Reigen AU

Alright so, to start, I'm gonna start from the very beginning, before the actual start of the story.

You might be asking, why the hell would Kokomi decide to work at a run-down little 'company' that specializes in exorcising spirits where the only other workers is this weird sweaty adult guy and his middle schooler son(?) 

I am here to say that it started with one little thing; Kokomi realized that Saiki was in the 'occult' club. Now Kokomi is a normal teenager and when she finds out that her crush is interested in something, she wants to join it...

if she did, she'd have to deal with Toritsuka all the time plus she doesn't want her fans to flood the club and ruin the time she wants to spend with Saiki, so joining was absolutely out of the question. 

But what WASN'T out of the question was trying to learn more about the occult and that type of thing so that later she can mention it to Saiki, and then he'll be so impressed with her that he'll have to say Oh wow-

But the thing is that going to libraries is also really hard for her because of her looks, so she decides to google the shit out of things and stumbles upon a site for this quiet little 'Exorcist' place that has a lot of positive reviews, and it's the only place that she's seen that's not a tourist spot. 

Maybe if she talked to the owner, she'll be able to learn more about the occult! (From the reviews, he’s either a middle-aged man or a dude in college and both types of dude LOVE her so she'll be able to charm him into helping her with her research if need be) Plus, it's in an isolated area so if she does her best to attract as little attention as possible, she'll be able to get there with 50% fewer stalkers!

Though, when she gets there she's given several surprises 

The owner guy, while he did (predictably) say 'Oh wow' when he saw her...that was it. He didn't get heart eyes or anything like that, he just went straight to business

There was a random middle schooler there and he was the same! He said 'Oh wow' and blushed but all he did was quietly ask if she was related to some girl at his school then get embarrassed and continue his own work without looking at her!

The office is a real hole-in-the-wall place, hard to find if you don't have an exact address or were told by someone else where it was.

She made it there with no stalkers. She managed to lose some stragglers by hiding behind a tree, but there was just a weird energy in the area that seemed to make them go away on their own. She liked it.

She gathered that the occult was almost definitely not what they did most of the time. While the dude did seem to offer some 'Ghost Hunting Services', the other half of the services were just a lot of fancy words used to hide the fact that they were just doing bullshit to make people who didn't have ghosts (or demons or whatever it was)

Maybe it was a mix of all five of these. Maybe it's because the middle schooler's calm demeanor reminds her of Saiki. Maybe it's cause the dudes causal reaction to her beauty (something that made lesser men faint) was some of the closest that she's had to being treated like a human being by a dude older than her. Maybe it's because Makoto last check that he sent for bills came last night with the note 'Love you, my dear kokomi <3' and she couldn't stop herself from burning it.

But when the blond, sweaty, and over-the-top scam artist owner who hasn't ONCE blushed when looking at her asks her what she's here for-

-she says the only thing that comes to mind and asks for a job.

It takes everyone in the room off guard, but she liked to think that she was hiding it decently enough. But after filling out some paperwork and answering some surprisingly short questions, she's hired and expected to start working next Monday after school.

Her mind kinda goes blank after that. 

But can she really be blamed? She’s had a long week this is the first time in ages that someone (Other than Saiki) didn’t fawn over her.

It isn't until much later, when she's been working there for a few weeks that she begins to loosen up and not be the 'perfect pretty girl' all the time during work hours. 

Mob helps.

Reigen punching her brother in the face helps a lot more.

[petrich0-r]

warning!!! long rant incoming

weeks later and i am still not over how much reading chapter 426 traumatized me. seeing touya reduced to a what??? burnt-up corpse strapped to a wall and on life support, barely breathing and with no hope of recovery, with only a bleak "slow march toward death" ahead of him was only the first blow.

then we see the todofam marching into the hospital determined to "talk with him" while he can barely string together a few sentences and is strapped to a heart monitor in a way that invasively reveals his true feelings of upset/excitement/anixety at whatever they feel like talking to him about, which was personally mortifying to witness.

one of the FIRST things he says is how he isn't "some damn tourist attraction" for them to come gawk at and talk at to make themselves feel better. and yes even though most of my ire is directed at enji i still dislike how the rest of the family acted in this chapter. all determined to say their piece now that he's forced to stay there and listen to them, and even shouto's part in all of it being framed as him "saving" touya and making time for them all to have together while he is DYING an AGONIZING and SLOW death. also natsuo not even saying anything to touya even though he was the only one to ever advocate for him and constantly remind everyone in the family of what happened to his brother and demanding justice from enji. although if i interpret this as him recognizing that talking with touya now would only violate his privacy since he can't hide his feelings because of the heart monitor his behaviour is the only one that makes sense.

enji once again taking the opportunity to talk about what HE is doing to atone for "his sins", in a way that fills me with such indescribable rage and fury at this man's audacity to even show his face to any member of his family and makes me once again want to kill him with my bare hands because i am SICK and TIRED of hearing about his "atonement" and "rejection". and even though natsuo renounces him definitively once and for all once they exit the hospital, he also says he thinks enji is a "badass" now???? EXCUSE. ME. also shouto calling him "father" still makes me want to puke i'm sorry.

to rub salt into the wound the chapter then switches to hawks talking with nagant who is now fully recovered?? from literally exploding??? in a parody of what i hoped a final dabihawks interaction was going to be. but i guess only heroes and "good" victims get to live and have miraculous recoveries in this story.

another thing that makes me livid is this trend horikoshi has set of showcasing touya in pivotal panels as not-being-burnt-to-a-crisp so he can?? what??? show us his imagined facial expressions better??? idk it just feels so disingenuous to him being crippled, burnt to death, stripped of all bodily autonomy, irreversibly and gruesomly injured only for horikoshi to take the easy way out when he wants to show emotions on his face so we can what?? see him as a person still and not a disfigured corpse???? i don't get it.

as someone who up until those chapters at the end where horikoshi decided that yes izuku should absolutely vanquish tomura was very hopeful about bnha's ending and where it was headed and what kind of story it wanted to tell i feel immeasurably and utterly betrayed and furious at what happened to the remaining lov characters. touya's end is a nightmare scenario on a personal level but what tomura's character went through at the end felt like a complete butchering of everything he as a character stood for. and don't get me started on himiko, a fucking TEENAGE GIRL who i was SURE would get to live if nobody else from the league did. but those are rants for another post.

my final thoughts for this rant are musings on whether horikoshi is aware how hurtful and trauma-inducing chapter 426 is. i struggle to grasp how he could write such a nuanced character without apparently knowing the first thing about how to resolve their story in a satisfying way. whether or not he waffled on how he should end bnha and then chickened out on its "true/controversial/revolutionary" ending i can only speculate but at this point i don't even care because the fact is he CHOSE to end the story this way and i have no idea what the point of it all even was anymore and i am tired and rant over because i've been rambling like a lunatic for way too long now

anyway sorry if this doesn't make a lick of sense idk what i'm saying or trying to articulate here, this is my first post of this length and i was gonna keep it all inside but i felt i had to let it out somehow. if u got this far thank you for reading this and have a good day <33

[cazzyf1]

Mike Hawthorn's Last Interview

From a magazine called 'Sports Car Wheel' published in August 1959

Mike Hawthorn picks the next champion - by Michael Priestley

A few hours before Britain's newly acclaimed Grand Prix Champion was killed in his green 3.4 Jaguar on the Guildford bypass, Surrey, England, our London correspondent Mike Priestley dropped in on our behalf to chat with his old friend. The two 'Mikes' discussed the future of the sport. We print this interview with respectful homage to a great driver and a nice guy who decorated the sport with his shining achievements and warm personality.

"Mike!" I asked as I pulled up outside the Farnham garage which bears the proud name 'Mike Hawthorn, Tourist Garage Ltd'. "What's the idea of retiring under 30?"

Mike Hawthorn gave me the familiar boyish grin I knew so well, a grin he often used to mask a hurt, and he had so many during his dazzling career.

"I don't know the real reason," he said, "I had to make up my mind whether to carry on racing or give up and run a business. I had reached the top, which is good for business, but after a while I would get worse, and people would soon forget."

"This business is growing. There is more and more work to do. We have had the new showroom for 15 or 18 months, but we still want new workshops."

At his garage, Mike sold Ferraris, Jaguars, Standards and Triumphs. His father, Leslie Hawthorn, owned the garage until he was killed in a road crash a few years ago. Hawthorn's mother and a family friend ran it together so that young Mike could carry on racing.

Some people said Hawthorn left the track to get married. Mike gave me a stock answer. "You'll get nothing out of me on that. It's definitely 'No comment'"

Surrounded by paintings of himself in action, Hawthorn confirmed that he would never race again on any track. But he was toying with the idea of doing the odd speed trial and rally now and again.

"I am obviously going to miss racing," he said, "Particularly when I go to a meet and see the Grand Prix cars on the grid."

Other racing, he said, didn't have the same attraction for him. Unlike Stirling Moss, he was never very interested in sports cars, although he drove plenty of them with great success.

"Frankly, I raced for the fun of the game," said Hawthorn. "I have to admit I never took it seriously like Stirling. I'd say I was lucky to get the championship by a single point."

What he most enjoyed was a battle royal with the masters of the sport. A wheel-to-wheel "dice" with Fangio meant more to him than all the fame and fortune he earned. "I made no elaborate plans to win the championship," he said, modestly. "I wanted to win, of course, but I'm afraid I never gave it much thought until the newspapers started building it up."

Although his success have been varied and numerous, Hawthorn won only three Grandes Epreuves. Even in his championship year, he scored only one outright win. Circumstances were often against him. When Mercedes swept the board, he was with Ferrari. When the Italians had regained supremacy, he had moved to B.R.M. In 1957, he rejoined Ferrari, only to find himself outpaced by the Maseratis and Vanwalls.

Hawthorn's memories of the past eight years must have been bitter-sweet indeed. He lived through high success and bleak failure, good health and bad, friendly publicity and cruel vendettas.

The press was wildly enthusiastic about Hawthorn in the early days, but later he was to learn that there is another side to publicity. In 1955, newspapers branded him as a draft dodger - for the thinly-veiled reason that National Service was in the news at the time - and the whole subject turned into a party squabble in Parliament.

Although the charges were later proved unfounded, the shameful attacks continued abated. One newspaper even started off again when Hawthorn returned home to attend his father's funeral.

Outside in the showroom, I saw two very interesting old cars. One was the Riley tuned by his father and driven by Hawthorn at the outset of his dazzling career. It was being completely rebuilt. The other was the sports Alfa-Romeo which won the 1934 Le Mans.

A notable absentee was Hawthorn's championship Ferrari, which he wanted to keep at Farnham. However, for reasons that must be more Latin than logical, Ferrari refused to let him have it, and the car will probably end its days in bits and pieces.

With the weight of the business on his broad young shoulders, Hawthorn admitted to finding time too short. He seemed preoccupied as he talked The biggest problem of his new life, he said, was the prospect of buckling down to it. He liked the gay life surrounding the sport, and his autobiography "Challenge me the race" contains several references to "Fantastic parties" "monumental hangovers" and other high jinks.

"I do like the idea of leading a quiet life," he admitted, not very convincingly. "But it looks as if it'll be difficult at the moment."

The conversation turned to the qualities desirable in a race track driver. "Let's get it clear from the start," Mike explained. I'm not the fearless type. I've been scared white on the track more often than I can remember, but what really scares me is being a passenger. When I'm being driven, I get really scared. At 40 or 50 mph, I suppose I'm all right, but after that, I go to pieces."

"Judgement and good reflexes are, I suppose, the first essential of a racing driver," he went on, "and I suppose you have to have IT. What's IT? Well it's a blend of good judgment and good reflexes - kind of fifth sense that comes into operation on the track. You could be the bravest man alive, and not get anywhere in racing without IT."

Hawthorn has another thing in common with most other racing drivers. He is superstitious, but not unusually so. He has never liked number One, and since his great friends Peter Collins and Luigi Musso were killed in cars bearing number Two, he had dodged that number also. Hawthorn refused the number Two at Morocco. Gendebien said he was not superstitious and took it. He was nearly killed in a serious crash.

"I like anything with a five in it," said Hawthorn, "I call that a comfortable number," He has never carried a "lucky" charm for fear of losing it.

The Hawthorn family originally lived in Yorkshire, but Leslie Hawthorn decided to move to Farnham to be near the Brookland circuit. It was there that young Mike saw his first race and the die was cast.

Right from the time when he "drove" an old Jowett on the starter motor - he was only eight at the time - he dreamed of racing. He had one priceless asset; his father, who knew the game inside out, both as driver, an engineer, and helped him all the way.

Mike Hawthorn, tinkered about with old motorbikes and modest motor cars, until his father acquired a couple of Rileys. Father and son entered for the 1950 Brighton Speed Trials. Leslie came second in the 1500 c.c. class. Mike won the 1100 c.c. class.

His real break came when a family friend, Bob Chase, brought a new Cooper-Bristol and let Hawthorn race it on condition that his father looked after it.

Hawthorn's debut at the Easter meeting at Goodwood in 1952 was fantastic. He beat such British experts as Abecassis, Wharton, Poore and Hamilton. Then he relentlessly trounced Fangio himself, when the master was also driving a Cooper-Bristol. After that, Mike never looked back, although bad luck was often to harry him.

After getting a fourth place in the Belgian Grand Prix at Spain, in 1952, Hawthorn went to Modena, Italy, to be tested by Ferrari. Unfortunately, he crashed his Cooper there, and, although he was not badly hurt, he felt groggy and unfit to race for a long time.

Ferrari signed him up for 1953. This was the year that Hawthorn drove his finest race, becoming the first Britisher to win the classic French Grand Prix since Sir Henry Segrave triumphed there in 1923.

As a first-year boy in the Ferrari team, he thus beat the great Fangio after a marathon duel, and soundly defeated Farina and Ascari.

Observers thought it was one of the most thrilling races ever, to see Fangio, the "Grand Old Man" of motor-racing, and then audacious "new boy" battling it out, using every clean trick in the book, for 150 miles - Hawthorn finally winning by a second.

Although he won the Sebring 12-Hours and the Le Mans 24 Hours and several other races, 1954 and 1955 were ill-fated years for Hawthorn.

Firstly, there were the disgraceful attacks on him over his Military Service commitments, which finally ended only when he was later rejected as medically unfit because of his kidney trouble and burns.

In 1955 there was more bad publicity when he was involved in the ghastly crash at Le Mans which killed over 80 people. No one was officially blamed after a long investigation, but some people tried to make the mud stick on Hawthorn.

To complete two dreadful years, Hawthorn's beloved father, Leslie, was killed in a road crash in England while Mike was in Italy In 1954.

In 1956, Ferrari decided that Hawthorn couldn't drive for him and Jaguar at the same time, so Mike bade him farewell for the time being and became a 'freelancer'.

It was in the fast but unreliable B.R.M that Hawthorn had his most fantastic racing car crash and escaped with an injured ankle. The car got out of control at 100 m.p.h at Goodwood, cartwheeled several times end over end, and finished upside down with a front wheel torn off. Hawthorn was back with Ferrari, with whom he stayed until his retirement.

The Vanwall won the Manufactures' World Championship this year, and because the British car was, by large and large, superior to the Ferrari, Hawthorn;s championship win was all the more admirable.

He didn't exactly 'nurse' his Ferrari, as had been suggested, but he showed a high degree of 'Mechanical sympathy' and this probably won him the world laurels, informing for a moment his supreme skill and fire.

In spite of the death of Peter Collins and Luigi Musso in Grand Prix racing last year, Hawthorn insisted that it is the safest form of racing there is. That is why he was against the new Formula One, which says that GP cars must conform to set standards of minimum weight and maximum power.

"It means putting a less powerful engine in the same weight chassis. With power you can get out of trouble by putting on throttle. If you reduce the power, nothing is going to happen when you put your foot down to regain control," he told me.

Outside of racing, Hawthorn's interests were limited, both by time and inclination. He sometimes reads thrillers, war books and historical works, but he has no enthusiasm for the Arts or politics. However he had a passion for flying. In 1957 he brought a lightweight Vega Gull which he piloted "quite a lot".

He often used it to get from track to track in Europe. At Hamburg, when Peter Collins and his American wife were on board, the engine failed just after take-off. Mike pulled off the impossible. He made a forced landing on the main runway, down-wind.

Afterwards he found out that a Convair liner had landed at the same time, on the same runway- from the opposite direction. "I didn't see it at all," reminisced Hawthorn. "Guess I was born lucky that way,"

He hoped to do some air racing one day, he said, but he didn't know anything about it at the time. The idea just appealed to him. Motor racing was always the consuming passion of his life, because his childhood was filled with race track impressions; his father being an automotive engineer and racing driver in the golden days of Brooklands.

Hawthorn's private transport was a Jaguar 2.3 which he has "modded" up to series production racing standards. "I can't think of any other car which can meet my needs as well," he explained. "It is good value for money it goes extremely fast. It corners quite well, and there is plenty of room, what more could you want?"

Discussing who would be the next world champion, Hawthorn tipped Phil Hill "Stirling moss is the best driver racing today," he said, "but I think a combination of Phil Hill and Ferrari will do it,"

As I prepared to leave, Mike apologised for being so busy, shook hands, flashed a cheerful grin and dashed away to a business appointment. He was still wearing a sports jacket.

As a nod to the business career ahead of him however, the wonder boy of the track had relinquished his characteristic bowtie for a more conservative and business-like neck-wear. This I took to be the first sign of Mike's "knuckling down" to the job ahead.