#he could possibly know some but not a lot

[m-o-p-e]

From a 1950 Truman speech:

I know that you have been hearing a lot of charges lately about Government interference with business, about the undermining of the free enterprise system, and about "creeping socialism." In short, you have been hearing that the Government is doing everything possible to wreck every industry in the country.

Nothing could be further from the truth. The record shows that the Government action in recent years has been the salvation of private enterprise ...

I know there are some people who still don't believe that the policies of the Government have had anything to do with our present prosperity. That reminds me of a story I heard on my recent nonpolitical trip. It seems that there was a rock-ribbed old gentleman of a political persuasion, shall we say, somewhat different from mine. One of his friends asked him what man to vote for for President in 1952.

"Well," he said, "I would like to vote for Dewey."

"Dewey!" said the friend. "Why Dewey?"

"Well," he said, "I voted for him the last two times, in 1944 and in 1948, and business has never been so good as it is today" ...

The funny thing is that this has all been said before. The current campaign is almost exactly like the campaign of the old Liberty League, back in 1935 and 1936. I was in that campaign, too, by the way. It uses the same old slogans, the same old scare words, and the same old falsehoods. The only difference is that it sounds even more foolish now than it did 14 years ago.

*

Roosevelt won the presidency in '44, Truman in '48

[y3sterdaysproblem]

smoke and mirrors - chris sturniolo

chapter nine - final

summary: your best friend Matt backs out of plans you had made together, so you replace him with his brother. the only problem is the two of you can’t stand each other.

{enemies to lovers, fake dating}

includes : explicit language, fluff, smut(penetration, oral, fingering, etc.), angst if you squint, lots of bickering, slow burn

wc: 3.7k

Chris had never bought a girl flowers before, so he was anything but confident when he walked into the local flower shop not far from his home, finally building up the courage to ask the girl he had fallen head over heels with on a date. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, and he hung on every word she said, wanting to make her feel valued and heard when she spoke. He couldn’t imagine finding any girl prettier than her, it was impossible in his head.

When he finally picked out a bouquet, he paid happily with his allowance money that he’d saved for a couple of months now, wanting it to be the most beautiful bouquet she’s ever received. It made him giddy, knowing he was finally going to get an answer as to if she felt the same.

He kept the flowers hidden in his locker for the day, waiting until the end of the day to finally tell his dream girl how he felt. His nerves almost got the best of him, but he told himself it was now or never. He had to make his move.

But he couldn’t find her. Anywhere. He had looked in every room she could possibly be in, he had looked out front, he had even asked a girl to check the bathroom for him to see if she was hiding out with some friends. But it was to no avail.

Finally, as a last ditch effort, he decided to check the fields, see if she was hanging around waiting for football practice to start. She was so social and knew at least one person in every sport, so she loved to show support any time she could. He loved how supportive she was of her friends and their interests, even if she didn’t care for it herself, she was always around to let her friends know she had their back. She was so kind.

He was about to give up, for real this time, maybe just bring the flowers to her house later in the day, when he saw movement under the bleachers, and without thinking anything of it he peeked under, feeling like his heart audibly shattered in his ears when his eyes landed on you locking lips with some asshole jock that could never treat you right.

He couldn’t believe it. He was too late. He had missed his chance with you, and now he was just a fool standing around with a bouquet of flowers for nobody.

He quickly turned and started walking away, knowing he needed to get home as quickly as possible. His heart was broken, and there was nothing he could do to fix it.

When he finally arrived home after walking by himself, he looked for the only woman he knew would never break his heart, finding his mom in the kitchen starting to cook dinner. He walked up to her and handed her the flowers, smiling sadly up at her.

She grinned wide, not seeing how sad her son was in the moment, eyes locked on the beautiful arrangement of flowers in front of her. “Wow!” She exclaimed. “What’s this for, baby?”

Chris handed them off to her before wrapping his arms around her, resting his head on her shoulder. “You deserve it, mama.”

He has never and will never let his mom know how much that hug meant to him, and the tear that slipped out and landed on her shirt will always be his secret.

-

If having to love you in silence was suffering enough, loving you loudly and losing you was a million times worse.

Some moments he thought it might be easier to just run away from his life and start over, but nothing would rid him of the thought of you.

When he found himself at the flower shop, he couldn’t help but feel like the fifteen year old version of himself, pining over a girl he’d never get to call his own, desperately trying to win her over with a few words and a bouquet of flowers.

But he wasn’t going to let you slip so easily this time. This time he was willing to put up the fight.

-

Days had passed of Chris trying to contact you any way he could. Texts, calls, FaceTimes all ringing through your phone at almost every hour of the day, all going completely ignored by you, not having the energy to text him back, not wanting to open that wound just yet.

You knew you’d have to talk to him eventually, you couldn’t ignore him forever.

Matt had texted as well, trying to make sure you were okay, wanting to see if you needed anything, but you didn’t want to talk to him either. He had remained neutral through everything, but he was still too close to Chris for comfort right now.

You had spent the last few days cooped up in your apartment, either sleeping on your couch or your bed, not having the energy to do anything, barely even eating. You weren’t even hungry and couldn’t be bothered to make food that you wouldn’t even want to eat anyway, so you just rotted away with your thoughts, asking yourself over and over how you were so stupid to believe someone like Chris.

So many questions flowed through your head over those days. Why would he tell you he didn’t want to talk to her anymore? Why would he confess to you just to keep seeing other people? Why would he damn near tell you he loves you just to ruin everything?

Part of you hated Nick for ruining everything but another part of you was grateful to him for pulling the cover from your eyes, literally. If it wasn’t for him, you’d still be with Chris, sneaking around his brothers while the whole time he was sneaking around you.

You knew it was awful for you to do, but the first night when you got home, you found this Maya girl on instagram, scrolling through endless photos of a girl who you thought was so much prettier than you you almost couldn’t be mad at Chris for not being able to let her go. Of course he’d choose her, she was perfect. They still followed each other, too. Even after all of this, after you had found out, he still followed her. Maybe you were looking into this too deeply, but in your brokenhearted mind it all made sense.

Your phone rang again from where it was next to you on the couch, Chris’s name and a selfie you guys had taken together lighting up the screen. Every time you saw that picture your heart tightened in your chest. You both looked so happy, smiling wide like there was no place you’d rather be. You had no idea how things went so bad so quickly. Part of you wishes you could’ve lived in ignorance forever, never to find out the truth about Chris’s antics. You would’ve been so much happier.

“Stop tickling me, I want to take a picture!” You squeal at Chris, body curling away from him as his fingertips attacked your sides, something he couldn’t stop doing now that he knew you were ticklish, wanting to hear your loud giggles for the rest of his life.

“No pictures!” He opposes, but stops tickling you, pulling your body close to his where he stood.

You guys were out on what you guess you could call a date, exploring parts of the city you hadn’t seen before, popping into small gift shops occasionally, grabbing ice cream and little snacks you had come across throughout the day. You both had just left dinner and were just walking around now, you taking photos of whatever caught your eye, but now you wanted a photo of the two of you for your contact photo and just for the memory as well. You didn’t have many photos together yet, but you loved looking through the few that you had when you were alone, most of them either goofy photos of Chris or photos of him with the biggest smile in the world, lighting up your face every time you saw them.

“Please! Just one, I swear.” You beg him. He had his arms wrapped you from behind and his chin on your shoulder where he groaned loudly, which you giggled at, knowing he was about to agree.

“One,” he tells you and you squeal, bringing your phone up in front of you guys.

“Smile!” You tell him and he obliges, both of you smiling as wide as you can, him with his eyes clenched shut. You couldn’t help it, you snapped a few, continuing to take pictures when he turned his head into your neck and peppered kisses there before he turned back to the camera and flipped it off with a deadpan look on his face, making you laugh loudly as you put your phone away.

The memory fades from your mind as the call goes to voicemail, the fourth one today.

You couldn’t help but miss Chris, miss the way he made you feel. You didn’t understand how things turned bad so quickly when they were so good, good to the point where you thought for sure you had locked him down.

You groan to yourself, rubbing your eyes harshly, noticing the tears flowing intermittently from them. “Fuck,” you huff, annoyed at yourself.

You throw your lap blanket off of you and stand up from the couch, walking to your bathroom to wash your face, wanting to rid yourself of the days and days of tears, deciding it’s time to get over yourself and get back to life, not wanting to sit around and wallow over this boy who clearly didn’t care about you in the first place.

You’re just stepping into the bathroom when your doorbell rings, startling you. You whip your head around to the sound, heart racing. There was only one person that could be. He hadn’t tried coming to your home yet, only trying to contact you via phone, so you were unsure how you would get out of this. There was no way you could pretend you weren’t home, your car was right outside.

You wipe your face with your hands and walk to the door, standing directly in front of it. “Go away,” you say sternly, crossing your arms.

“Please let me in,” Chris pleads from the other side of the door.

“No,” you reply. “Go home.”

You hear Chris sigh loudly, then a small crinkle. “I’m already here, just let me explain, please. It’s not what you think.”

You debate it for a moment, wondering if you need the closure, but knowing you’re not ready yet. “Chris, leave. I don’t want to see you. Go bother your other fucking girlfriend.”

Girlfriend. That’s the first time you’ve even slightly referred to yourself as his girlfriend, and the circumstances of it almost made you laugh.

Chris is silent for a few beats, thinking of what to say next before he speaks again. “Let me in and let me explain and if by the end of it you never want to talk to me again I’ll respect that and leave you alone. I just can’t handle you thinking I would hurt you like that when I never would. Please.”

You consider it. If he’s serious and he would leave you alone, it might be worth it. Plus, you would get an explanation as to why he thought you’d never find out, why he thought you were the perfect person to hurt so badly.

You remain silent as you unlock the door, peeling it open slowly to reveal a disheveled Chris staring back at you. His hair was in his face, his face unshaven since you left, eyes red and puffy. Your eyes trail down to where he’s holding a large bouquet of your favorite flowers, wondering how on earth he knew what they were.

He holds them out to you and you just look back up at him, turning around and heading back in, going back to your couch and flopping down, waiting for him to reach you.

You hear the door shut and shoes being taken off before you see him again where he’s walking through your living room, placing the flowers down gently on the coffee table before he sits next to you, taking a deep breath.

“Is there anything you want to know specifically?” He asks you, to which you scoff out a laugh at, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah, I’d love to know why you played the fuck out of me while the whole time you were fucking somebody else behind my back. I’d love to know how you even had the fucking time when I was sleeping over almost every night, and the days I wasn’t there, you were here.” You snap at him, voice quivering as you speak. You couldn’t help it, you were sad and confused and the confrontation only made it worse. “You made me look like a fucking idiot not only to myself but in front of your brothers, too, and that is so fucking mean, Chris. I should’ve known it wasn’t all an act, you really are a fucking dick to me. There’s no way you could’ve treated me like that for the last however many years and it not be real.”

Chris sucks in a breath at the insult, your words feeling like a dagger to his heart. “It’s not true,” he croaks out. “Nick was wrong, he didn’t know what he was talking about.”

You shake your head, cutting him off. “You got caught, Chris, and now you’re trying to pick up the pieces. It’s over.”

Chris felt lightheaded, that sentence echoing loudly in his head. It’s over. It couldn’t be over, you guys still have so much more life to live together.

“No,” he starts, scooting closer. “No, no, you said you’d hear me out so hear me out. You’ve got this all wrong, Nick was wrong. I wasn’t seeing anybody but you, I wasn’t sleeping with anybody but you, you’re it for me, you’re my dream girl, please believe me.” Chris was full on pleading now, his own eyes welling with tears as he spoke. “I cannot lose you, you don’t understand how deep this runs for me. I’ll let you go through my phone, my texts, my instagram, fucking anything just to prove to you.”

You have to tear your eyes away from the begging boy beside you, afraid you’ll give in too easily if you stare him in the face. “Say whatever you want to say and then get out of my house.” You tell him, voice monotone.

Chris releases a shaky breath, knowing this is the only chance he’ll get. “Okay. I guess I’ll just tell you what I think you should know. I would never hurt you like that, I would never risk losing you for something so stupid like a date or sex. I’ve been thinking about you being mine for so long that even I wouldn’t be so dumb, I swear to you. The date Nick was talking about was a business meeting for my brand, he just assumed because he saw I was out to dinner and didn’t know where I was. I told you about that dinner, I literally left your place to go there. I already talked to him about it and he feels really bad for making you think that I was on a date. And the girl? Maya? I haven’t talked to her since before the wedding, she hasn’t even texted me, and I‘ll show you my phone, we haven’t talked. But I kept leaving and not coming back for hours or coming home with hickeys and they kept noticing so I had to tell them I was somewhere and I just said I was seeing her because you still wanted this to be between us.” Chris finally pauses and looks at you with a soft expression, hoping you would believe him. You didn’t speak though, staying still where you sat with your hands in your lap. “I could never live with myself if I lost you in such a stupid way.”

Your lip quivered and you dropped your eyes down to your hands, not wanting to cry again for the umpteenth time, especially in front of Chris, but the wave that hit you made it inevitable, a small, choked sob leaving your lips. “Why wouldn’t you say anything right then?” You ask him brokenly.

Chris scoots closer and places a hand on your thigh, other hand reaching for your cheek to pull your face up to his. “I was stunned in the moment, it all happened so fast. I didn’t even process anything until I had Nick damn near in a chokehold and Matt was trying to calm me down. He told me to give you space and that you needed time away so neither of us said something we don’t mean.”

You turn to face Chris, tears flowing freely from your eyes now as he spoke, emotions taking over. “I was so sad, Chris. I still am. I’ve been sitting here wallowing in my feelings for fucking days just thinking about how badly this hurt and how hard I fell for you.”

Chris’s thumb brushes over your cheek, listening to your words intently. “I know, baby, I know and I’m so sorry. I really am. I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”

“Why would you even think of bringing her up? Why did she even come to your mind when they asked you where you were? You could’ve just said you were with a girl but the fact that you told them you were with her is like… a punch to the face.” You tell him sadly, wiping your tears frustratedly. “Is she still on your mind?”

Chris immediately shakes his head, eyebrows furrowed. “No, absolutely not. She’s just.. sorry, she’s the last person I slept with and they knew about her so it was the easiest thing so they didn’t ask questions. She’s definitely not on my mind.”

You think over his words, still feeling apprehensive about it all, but wanting nothing more than to believe him. “I just don’t understand why you let me leave under the impression that you were seeing somebody else, Chris. It just makes me think you took these days to think of a good enough lie before coming here.”

Chris sighs, shoulders dropping in defeat. “I told you, I just panicked. I swear on everything, I swear on my brothers, baby, I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

You finally allow yourself to take in Chris’s disheveled appearance, realizing he looked just as bad as you did. He looked miserable.

“It’s gonna take a lot for me to fully trust you again but… I want to believe you so bad. So I do.” You tell him quietly. You’ve never seen such relief on Chris’s face before this moment, the way his eyes lit up and the corners of his lips curled, a breath of relief falling from his mouth.

“Thank you,” he says, reaching both hands out towards you in the hopes you’d close the gap between you both. “I’ll earn your trust back, I promise.”

You sniffle and nod, scooting closer so that you could swing your legs over his lap, resting your head on his shoulder. The room is quiet for a few moments, Chris gently rubbing your thigh with one hand while he held you close with the other, before you clear your throat gently. “How’d you know my favorite flowers?” You ask timidly.

Chris looks down at you, sucking in a deep breath. He knew this was the moment where he told you how he really felt and how deep it actually ran.

“You and Matt had a conversation a couple years ago and you guys were talking about flowers and you said these were your favorite, so I remembered in the hopes of getting to buy you them some day,” Chris starts out. “I don’t know if you remember when we went on that date and you yelled at me saying I didn’t know anything about you?”

You nod against his shoulder, prompting him to continue.

“I always made plans on your birthday because I thought you wouldn’t want me around. I always made sure I was busy, just so I didn’t have to deal with the disappointment of not being invited somewhere. I’ve always known when it is.” He sighs nervously, swallowing before continuing. “There’s a canvas in my room and it’s just all different shades of the same color; I’ve had it for about a year. I painted it after you posted this one photo to your instagram, the one where you have no makeup on and you’re facing the sun. I thought your eyes looked so pretty in that picture and I couldn’t tell you, so I painted them instead. Baby, I have been painfully in love with you for years and I’m not about to lose you over some stupid shit my brother said.”

You were blown away by his words, not even being able to comprehend someone being so head over heels for you that they’d do these things for you and suffer in silence, all because he thought your feelings towards him were nothing but negative. How would you possibly be able to stay away from him ever again, knowing what you know now?

You didn’t think you wanted to.

Chris slid you off his lap and sat you facing forward on the couch, moving to get on his knees in front of you, hands grabbing your own and holding them close to his chest. “I love you,” he tells you, not a shadow of a doubt in his voice. “I want to do this. For real.”

You stared down at the man in front of you, broken at the thought of losing you, but fulfilled at the thought of calling you his. It seemed like a no brainer.

“I guess I could suffer through being your girlfriend a little bit longer,” you tease, a smile lighting up your face.

Chris grinned with you, pushing himself up until your faces were aligned, lips molding together like you were made for each other.

Turns out your love wasn’t all smoke and mirrors.

-

a/n: (‘:

my babies are finally together

i’m so happy this is over!

thanks so much for all the love <3

feel free to send requests based on these characters or requests for new fics I love u guys so much always

- avery

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @mattslolita @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @ariana2saucyy @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo @secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @flouqissss @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsbrat @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @chrisslollipop @mattsside @sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @pvssychicken @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo @afilmbykay @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @r0s3luvr @milasturniolo @mattsdillion @birkinbratsworld @sturnburbs @aria003 @poppingmypussy4chris @victoryouactuallydidthis @seluky10 @annsx03 @ouchywow @sluttybitchformattsturniolo

[strawberryblue-blog]

A to Z —Jude Bellingham.

summary: NSFW alphabet with Jude.

warning: YES. +18. smut, headcanon.

words count: +1k.

A - after care (what is it like after sex?)

Too clingy. He likes to hug, ask, laugh, play, touch your skin. He won't move from your side until you fall asleep on him.

B - body part (favorite part of your body and his)

On him, his back, shoulders or arms, he works them a lot and likes to show them off. His muscles are one of his most attractive features. On you, you little hands trying to hold on tight to him or your innocent look when you kneel for him. He loves it.

C - cum (anything about cumming)

He always prefers to come inside you while you are on birth control, he wouldn't like it any other way because he LOVES ending up inside you. That's why he usually accompanies you to checkups and reminds you to do everything right so you can feel close to each other, without jeopardizing any possibility.

D - dirty secret (some dirty secret).

Fucking you in public places, like the locker room or some part of the stadium, out of sight of people but knowing that they are in the vicinity.

E - experience (experience in sex)

Enough, he is still young and has a lifetime to learn. So he only knows the basics but that doesn't mean he's basic, he does a perfect job.

F - favorite position (to fuck you)

Missionary to have control of everything. Your tits, your clit, your eyes, your mouth, your neck, he likes to be in control.

G - goofy (how serious is he during sex?)

He could be a bit annoying at times, he likes to tease a lot and is usually quite playful.

H - hair (how do he/you take care of his/your privacy?)

He doesn't cut it off completely, he likes to have a little bit makes him feel more of a man according to him. In your, honestly he doesn't care as long as you feel comfortable.

I - intimacy (what is it like during sex?)

He's wild. He's brutish, desperate and not at all gentle. Literally, an ANIMAL.

J - jack off (masturbation, how much do he/you masturbate?)

He tends to do it often especially when you're not there. It helps him to lower stress and like any young man, he likes to get to know his own body.

K - kink (fetishes during sex)

Sticking his fingers in your mouth, spitting in your mouth, biting your mouth, anything involving your mouth and lips. He loves them.

L - location (places to have sex)

Any place for Jude. Bed, kitchen, couch, car, even small spaces. If he wants to fuck you, he'll do it anywhere.

M - motivation (what excites him/you?)

Because of his age and how hormonal he can be, he tends to turn you on pretty easily with the bare minimum. But if you walk around the house naked, wearing only his T-shirts, Jude won't be able to hold back and will end up fucking you.

N - no (what wouldn't he do with you?)

No to sharing you. He could never let anyone else touch you, or even look at you. He's kind of possessive and jealous.

O - oral (how does he like to give/receive?)

He likes to receive because he is obsessed with your mouth and the way you suck him off. He loves it when your eyes water and your throat chokes on his cock. But he's also a great giver, he really knows how to use his tongue.

P - pace (how do he like to do it?)

Hard, deep and without mercy. Nothing more to clarify.

Q - quickie (do he like quick sex?)

Yes. Anything that involves being inside you is a yes for Jude.

R - risk (would he take risks? which ones?)

He likes to feel the adrenaline rush of being discovered, he gets a little hot at the idea of someone discovering them but would be a little embarrassed. Although he prefers to try it and then they will see if they will take the risk again.

S - stamina (how long does it last during sex?)

Two or three rounds depending on how tired you are. Sometimes it can make you scream all night long, sometimes just one fuck will satisfy you.

T - toy (use toys)

No. As I said before he is quite jealous and anything that can give you more pleasure than him would piss him off. So he wouldn't use them and if he ever caught you with them he would punish you.

U - unfair (how much does he like to provoke you?)

Too much. He's a dirty boy, he likes to provoke you to the limit, make you beg, despair and scream for him.

V - volume (how loud is it during sex?)

It's a bit vocal because of how hard he can be, it's inevitable not to moan or gasp loudly while he fucks you like crazy. Obviously for you, it is too.

W - wild card (small random story)

“What is this?” the question reached your ears as you combed your hair in the bathroom. Jude appeared behind you with the red velvet square box, confused.

“It's nothing” you said trying to take it from his hands but he was quicker and put his hands up high. “Jude, give it to me” you mumbled embarrassed.

With your little hops you tried to take it but Jude opened it high up, pulling out the object inside. Her fingers held the sensual black lingerie you had ordered a few days ago.

Your mouth fell open wide as you noticed the tiny threads of the lingerie, only covered with thin black lace.

“Damn, baby” he gasped in surprise.

“It was a surprise!” you squealed crossing your arms across your chest as you pretended to be angry. “Now you've ruined everything!”

Jude's mischievous look made you blush, as he looked down at the contents in his hands again. So much so that it embarrassed you and you took it out of his hands walking out of the ante room.

“Bebeee” he moaned touching you from the waist as you tried to put the underwear away in your drawer. “Put it on” she asked in your ear.

His body pressed against yours and you felt his bulge in your ass. His lips licked your lobe making you bristle and gasp at the feel of his touch. You pulled them out again and pushed him down on the bed, walking to the bathroom to get dressed in your lingerie. When you finished putting it on, you looked at yourself in the mirror, feeling all the power and confidence in you. Then you walked back out of the bathroom.

Jude was just as you had left him, breathing heavy on the bed with his pants tight in his crotch. When he saw you, his eyes flashed like lights, he bit his lip and you can play you saw his cock jump in his pants.

“Fucking sexy in that lingerie” he moaned as you stood in front of him. His lips kissed your belly as they caressed his hair, he licked your skin and held your ass squeezing it tightly.

“Too bad they'll go too fast, baby” he murmured before grabbing the tiny strings and pulling them until they ripped, leaving you completely naked.

X - x-ray (how big is it and how?).

It's big. Thick, veiny, long. It's perfect and Jude knows exactly how to use it.

Y - yearning (how long can desire last?

He tends to have quite a high sexual appetite even more so when he comes home from big games, trips abroad or when they don't see each other much because of their respective jobs.

Z - zzz (how is his sleep after sex?)

He tends to be a little fussy before bed, he likes to cuddle, talk and play but he will fall asleep faster than you think if he is very tired. He'll probably try to wait for you but he'll fall asleep anyway, he needs to regain his energy after fucking you like he should.

[whateverloomis]

Dilf!Billy Loomis x AFAB reader (Stepcest)

I honestly think Billy would be hella single as a grown ass man but for this one let's imagine he's maintaining a shallow relationship to get away with another killing :p

Warnings: Stepcest, predetermined family, fingering, teasing, p in v, roughness, infidelity, unprotected sex, dirty talk, daddy kink, slight degradation, mentions of Stu, age gap (middle aged Billy and reader in their 20s,) AFAB reader (no pronouns,) unedited

Your mother had never been shy with her love life. She's had multiple partners after your dad passed away. Random hookups with attractive older men happened pretty often too. You're sure it's all been to fill the void and drown the unwanted emotions.

You've never really had the best relationship with her, you bud heads a lot and have grown distant since your biological dad passed, not to mention the countless arguments about every little inconvenience.

For that reason and many others you haven't been secretive about the attraction towards your step father, Billy Loomis. You don't care if he actually loves her or not. You'll let any selfish thoughts cross your mind and oh boy, you want that man inside you as soon as possible.

He's been living with you and your mother for 2 years and as time went by it got more difficult to contain yourself around him, especially since he openly flirts with you and you swear that one of these days you're going to jump on his cock the second you find a chance.

One particular day your mother left for the weekend on a business trip. You were more than sure that she'd been cheating on Billy with his best friend, Stu Macher. They've worked together for years and it's so obvious that they've got something going on.

To be completely honest, you wouldn't mind having Stu as your next step father. He's just as hot as Billy and you never miss the way that he checks you out whenever you're around him. Gosh, if you could have both of them at the same time you know you'd cum the second they both lay hands on you.

Being alone with Billy for the weekend was going to be difficult. You haven't hooked up with anyone in so long and touching yourself isn't satisfying anymore. The way he shamelessly walks around shirtless with sweatpants that highlight his cock drives you crazy and you don't know how you'll survive around him.

Because of that you were feeling bold. You wanted to risk it all, and you did.

It was a Saturday morning and you wake up ready to take the day off to relax after a long week. After you brushed your teeth and showered, you went to the kitchen in just a thong, a thin cotton crop and knee high socks. You knew Billy would walk in the kitchen any second after hearing the water turn off in the shower and were ready to pounce at any moment.

"Well good morning to you too." The sound of his deep voice instantly sent shivers down your spine.

Billy was standing against the countertop behind you shamelessly looking at your exposed ass and gorgeous legs. His hair was damp from the shower and slicked back. No shirt on. Grey sweatpants. He was out to hunt and you were his easy prey.

Turning around, you smiled innocently at him and pointed at the stove, "You want pancakes? I'm making myself some."

Billy could see right through you and he wasn't playing your games.

At your question he chuckled and walked towards you. His hands instantly found your waist and his eyes captured yours, "I'm hungry for something else," he said and squeezed your flesh slightly, his eyes lingering on your tits before scanning your face.

He was driving you mad. You couldn't help but bite your lower lip to suppress a pathetic moan that threatened to come out of you.

Billy seemed to notice and smirked at your reaction, "I don't think your mother would like knowing you're walking around the house looking like that while I'm here," he said and it was your turn to chuckle at his nonchalant comment.

"I don't think she'd like to see her husband grab me like he is right now but here we are," you answered and he lost it.

Billy ran his hands down and under your ass cheeks before picking you up. He sat you on the counter and positioned himself between your legs. His large hands rested on your thighs and he occasionally squeezed them.

"Don't use that tone with me," he said half serious and you laughed teasingly as his words.

"Why? Is daddy gonna ground me? Hm?" you teased further and Billy grabbed your face with his right hand under your jaw, making you look into his eyes. You smirked at him and that was enough, the man crashed his lips against yours and kissed you hungrily.

You were desperate. Both of you were. Your hands were tangled in his hair and he was holding you impossibly close to his body. He groped your ass as you rocked against him slowly.

He was hard and needy before, but having you like this was going to make him cum right then and there if he wasn't careful.

Billy slid one of his hands from your ass to your hip, down your inner thigh and finally over your core. He felt the wetness through the fabric of your thong and he gasped at you mockingly, "I've barely touched you and you're already soaked," he said and you whined softly. So desperate to feel him inside you. Your body ached for his cock.

The man couldn't contain himself much longer. He was already pulling your panties to the side and playing with your cunt. Rubbing your sensitive bud in circular motions and running his fingers down to your throbbing hole, dipping them just enough to pleasure you but not enough to satisfy the craving. He was torturing you. Torturing himself.

"Mm... Billy please," you moaned and grabbed his big hand, pushing his fingers all the way inside you and whining at the feeling of finally being filled up. It still wasn't enough but fuck did it feel amazing when he started to fuck you with his fingers.

You throbbed around him and he groaned at the feeling.

"Fuck baby, you feel so good... I bet you'll feel better around my dick," he whispered in your ear as you fucked yourself with his fingers.

You grabbed his cock and felt how big he is. Gosh you were so right when you imagined him as you rode your dildo in your room alone at night.

"Mmphh... Please fuck me," you begged and Billy pulled his fingers out of your cunt, sucking on them teasingly and moaning at your taste.

He pulled you towards him by your thighs and you wrapped your arms around his neck instinctively. He held your legs around his middle and carried you to his and your mother's bedroom.

After he released you, you crawled on the bed and positioned yourself on the edge on all fours, giving him a perfect view of your behind. You slowly removed your thong for him and revealed your glistening cunt.

Billy groaned at the sight and pulled his sweatpants down just enough to release his throbbing cock. He wanted to eat you up and taste your whole body but right then he couldn't handle the sight of your waiting hole. He'd been wanting to bury himself inside you for so long, and when he finally did you both moaned at the same time.

He didn't bother to wear protection and you honestly didn't give a fuck at that point. You didn't care if your stepfather knocked you up, as fucked up as it sounds.

"Ahh fuck... Harder Daddy, harder!" You nearly screamed, and to that he complied.

Billy grabbed your hips harshly and pounded you hard enough that you felt his cock all the way up your stomach. He pressed your head against the mattress, your back arched perfectly for him and the sight of your ass cheeks bouncing against him was nearly enough to make him cum inside you, but he was smarter than that of course.

"Getting fucked by your stepfather, who does that?" He shamed you and it made you throb around him. You were nearly going to cum just by hearing his words, it was a chase for release between the two of you.

After a few more thrusts the knot inside you finally broke as his tip brushed against your gspot. You came around him and screamed at the feeling of the intense waves that were coursing through your body. You had one, two, three mini orgasms after the big O and fuck you needed more.

Billy nearly bust his load inside your sweet pussy, but he managed to pull out and cum all over your back. He took a mental picture at how good your body looked covered in his seed.

"I'll clean up the mess for you," he whispered teasingly before giving you a lingering kiss.

As he walked into the bathroom you heard the front door open. Your mom and Stus voice echoed in the living room.

Fuck.

"I'll take care of it..."

•

I know I know, we hate cliffhangers but I love teasing y'all :p ;)

Hope you enjoyed reading <33

[adventures-in-mangaland]

Dead Boy Detectives Fic Recs Part 7

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

So I hear there's been some fandom drama? Guess it's time for another fic rec list! This fandom is so lovely, so let's focus on the positive and give all the love to our writers and artists. You guys are so talented. ♥️

Work It Harder, Make it Better by dear_monday, two_ravens

Olympics AU! And kind of Sk8er Boi? Charles is an Olympic skateboarder at the end of his competitive career and Edwin is a rising star in the world of dressage. They fall in love at Paris 2024. Amazing writing, as always, and I also enjoyed Niko and Crystal as members of the skateboarding and equestrian teams having their own Olympics Romance and Jenny as Charles' world-weary coach.

Twin Flame by Leandra

Another "He was a punk, he did ballet" romance! This time, everyone is alive and the boys meet when Charles watches Edwin perform at his little sister's ballet recital. The romance and Charles as a big brother are very sweet, which is great as this fic also covers some heavy themes. It's set in the 90s so there's discussion of homophobia, the AIDs crisis and Charles' canon child abuse. Suffice to say, his bisexual awakening is quite fraught. Recommended!

Love for Hire by lucrow

Edwin hires Charles to freak out his parents with his obnoxious fake boyfriend. What could possible haaappeeen? And yes, it's a ballet/punk romance too. 😅 Anyway, it's giving fantastic banter, lots of emotions and great use of trope! I also enjoyed Edwin's relationship with his mum in this fic, excellent parental feels.

so I try to talk refined by shadowquill17

Charles finds out about the Cat King taking on his appearance and (somehow) arrives at the conclusion that Edwin isn't attracted to him. Charles having body image as well as chronic self-esteem issues was interesting but kind of heartbreaking. Read it for Edwin's agonised attempts to verbalise his sexual attraction to Charles without exploding. That's love right there.

A Royal Pain(e) (series) by handwrittenhello

Royalty AU! I love a bodyguard romance from time to time and this one is lovely. Lots of yearning.

Turnabout's Fair Play by Like MmmCookies

Edwin enlists Niko and Crystal to teach him how to flirt with Charles. It starts off cute and awkward and ends up Master Of All He Surveys, which is very Edwin.

I will love you (I really love you) by ghostinthelibrary

Charles has a feelings realization and tries to confess to Edwin. Repeatedly. From a cock-blocking enchanted statue to a Hellhound, it's farcical and fun. This fic has been living in my head rent free for months.

seasons of mists by laiqualaurelote

Edwin hires Charles to be the barista in his book shop's cafe. Two cosy AUs in one! And it even comes (appropriately) with its own reading list and fanart! Very cute, excellent autumnal vibes and a superb imaginary book shop. I'm genuinely so devastated it's not a real place. 😭

Ariadne's Thread by hobbitsdoitbetter

In which Edwin is demisexual and trying to make it work with Charles. Love to see some ace spectrum representation!

you know the problem with history (it keeps coming back like weeds) by aletterinthenameofsanity

Amnesia AU! And kind of Secret Relationship? Edwin has Not So Temporary Amnesia that made him forget a whole romantic relationship with Charles early in their partnership. And Charles never told him... Surely this will have no impact on the events of canon?? 😬 I loved this twist on the trope!

scraped to the marrow by Anonymous

Edwin learned black magic in Hell and kind of went to the Dark Side. I love the trope of "Everyone thinks Character avoids violence because they're scared/weak/nice/bad at it, but actually they're a bit too good at it" and this fic does it well. I love regular Edwin, but Lord Bone was also pretty cool.

To Walk Back Into Hell by Asidian

Charles goes to Hell in Edwin's place, so naturally Edwin needs to find a way to rescue him! Interesting Hell lore and I loved all the Charles love in this.

It does not stop by williamvapespeare

Now he's safe from Hell, Edwin finally works through his PTSD. Emotional, but peak Emotional Support Charles for the win!

signed, sealed, delivered by sulfuric

Outsider PoV of the boys and the agency through the years from the perspective of the Ghost Postman. He's kind of underrated as a side character, but there are so many Implications about the Dead Letter Office, so I enjoyed the worldbuilding. And the supernatural community of London gossiping about/shipping the boys (they're just like us, for real). Love that trope.

not so secret by lola_prongs

Social Media/Celebrity AU! In which they're both actors and Charles relentlessly thirsts after Edwin on Twitter. Great use of social media/epistolary storytelling.

Like a record, baby by singtome

Another celebrity/social media AU, but this time Charles and Crystal are budding rock stars and Edwin is their manager. Also Edwin goes viral as the mysterious #HotGuyatUnity after his picture's taken at an event and Charles *tries* to set the record straight. This one's funny, generous with the yearning and UST and is part of a series that also touches on the darker side of the music industry/celebrity, which I appreciated. And it also has this excellent visual representation of the online drama.

@ghostinthelibrarywrites @tumblerislovetumblerislife @shadowquill17 @neurodivergent-fangirling @whatthehorsedoicallthisblog @shazziez @many-gay-magpies @extremely-eager-reader @atariakana @guardianspirits13 @colourmornings @herebehunters @avoiceofnerat @littlepocketuniverse @overlord-of-chaos @fairandfatalasfair @handwrittenhello @every-moment-a-different-sound @williamvapespeare @laiqualaurelote @dear-monday @dear-lucrow @aletterinthenameofsanity @likemmmcookies @bibliomancer7 @c-rowland @nobledragonflying @hobbitsdoitbetter

I've tagged some people again. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

[ameliathornromance]

“(Y/N)!” Your Orc called out into the darkness.

It had been hours since you’d left the camp. You’d said you had needed some fresh air, after spending all day running back and forth from one tent to the next.

This wasn’t your fault, the whole camp had been forced to stay in their tents due to a bad outbreak of food poisoning. Maybe something wasn’t cooked right, or maybe someone had brought in a diseased animal carcass unknowingly and fed it to the whole camp on accident, no one really knows how it began.

Nor did it really matter as about seventy percent of the Orcs had fallen ill, and now had to remain bed bound until they got better.

One of the lucky few who hadn’t suffered, was you.

Your boyfriend found it sweet how you so quickly jumped to help the other Orcs around the camp. “Well, it’s the least I can do,” you had told him when he voiced this to you. “It’s not like I do anything else around the camp other than help in the kitchens and prepare supplies for hunting runs.”

“That, is already a lot my love.” He’d pointed out.

“Well I can’t just sit around and watch other Orcs suffer!”

Your boyfriend had too, been unaffected by whatever had happened to the rest of the camp – given that he was a rare kind of Orc, who was a vegetarian – and thus solidified the theory that there was something wrong with the meat that had been brought in.

The remaining Orcs standing had tossed out all the remaining protein that they had hunted over the past few weeks and burned it all to prevent anyone else from consuming it.

Apart from the smell of burning meat, the other sickly smells that came along with food poisoning was suffocating.

Your Orc awed at your ability to remain so composed in the face of such gross things like vomit.

But obviously, there would come a breaking point. And today, it had.

You had stalked back into your shared tent, thrown aside your stained apron that you’d used as a guard against any unwanted bodily fluids and stalked out of the tent.

“Where are you going?!” He called out to you, watching you storm to the camp entrance.

“I’m going for a walk! It’s the third time I’ve been sick on today!”

“Ah…” As you vanished into the surrounding woods, your Orc thought that he too, would want to go on a long walk after being thrown up on that many times.

So, for the rest of the day, he took over your duties as nurse.

A lot of the sick Orcs complained about his bedside manner, saying that he wasn’t nearly as nice as you were, but he ignored them and did the best he could to tend to their needs, bring them water to drink – forced those who refused it and demanded something stronger – and do anything else that the camp needed doing in absence of hands.

But, as the day had dragged on, your Orc began to wonder where you had gone. Of course, you needed some time alone. It can’t be nice being around grumpy sick Orcs all day… but usually, after about an hour you’d come back and help out however you could.

By the time the night had settled in, your Orc decided to go out and look for you.

A few other Orcs who had tended to the main duties at camp told your boyfriend that they’d keep an eye on the others while he went to go and look for you. “Oh and look for Ruak too,” he was asked by one of the main hunting Orcs. “He went out to go and find herbs to soothe the others stomach cramps, but he hasn’t come back yet either.”

“Got it.” And so, here he was now. In the middle of the forest that surrounded the camp, looking for an Orc and a human woman.

Torch in hand, your Orc held it high above his head, squinting into the forest. “(Y/N)!? Can you hear me!?” His voice rang through the forest, with no response coming back to him. Cupping his hand around his mouth, he bellowed. “Ruak!?”

Your Orc placed a hand on his hip and sighed, annoyed. Where could you have gone? You never wandered far from the camp, you knew it wasn’t safe to do so.

A creeping dread washed over your boyfriend as he continued through the woods. There was always a possibility that a someone of a less forgiving nature had come by and done something to you, and possibly Ruak too.

He shook his head, no, there’s no way that would happen. Both of you were good at making quick escapes and-

“Ouch! That hurt!”

“Sorry, it’ll only hurt a little bit longer. You can do this (Y/N).”

Your Orc stopped in his tracks, listening out for more of an indication where your voices could be coming from.

“But it really hurts, I don’t think I can cope with it!” Your voice sounded pained, afraid.

“You’ll be fine. You’ve been tending to sick Orcs all day, you can cope with this too.” Ruak’s voice assured.

Your Orc’s heart sank. He took off in the direction where your voices were coming from. Heart thundering in his ears, he turned past some shrubbery, and there you two were.

Your ankle was propped up by Ruak, who was twisting your ankle around, like he was massaging it. Your back was pressed against a tree, where you were gripped onto it’s exposed roots.

Fury rushed through him. Dropping the torch, your Orc ran over and tackled Ruak away from you. “What the hell are you doing?!” He shouted at him.

“Hey!” You shouted, “he didn’t do anything!”

Your Orc, who had now put Ruak in a headlock, looked at you with a glare. “Oh? So, what was that just happening then, huh?!”

“I sprained my ankle.” You deadpanned. “I was worried I’d done something worse to it, when Ruak came by and offered to help me splint it before he took me back to camp.”

“What?” He released Ruak from the headlock, the other Orc collapsing to the ground and gasping for air.

Beside you, was an open leather first aid kit, a bandage laid unravelled and ready to use, a stick beside it.

“O-Oh,” heat flushed your boyfriends face as Ruak finally regained his breath and massaged his throat. “Sorry, Ruak.”

Ruak shot him a glare, but shook his head. “No, it’s fine. If I saw the same thing without context, I’d probably snap the Orc’s neck who dared lay a hand on my partner.” The other Orc rolled his head side to side, “remind me never to piss you off. Now you’re here, care to help me with this?”

Sheepishly, your boyfriend nodded. “Y-Yeah, sure.”

After carefully supporting your ankle and determining that your injury wasn’t anything worse than a sprain, Ruak went ahead to the camp to prepare a place for you to rest, while your Orc had scooped you up into a bridal carry.

“You didn’t seriously think we were going sleep together, did you?” You asked, frowning at your boyfriend.

He looked away from you, not making eye contact. “I dunno… today’s been a lot.” Between trying to make Orcs stay hydrated and having to fight them to eat and help them keep their food down, his mind was a mess.

There was a fear in the back of his mind that maybe you’d just had enough of taking care of the camp and wanted to blow off some steam and since he was busy taking care of the sick Orcs…

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume that.” He said, looking at you.

“You know I’d never do something to you like that, right?” You reassured him. “Ever.”

Your Orc nodded, pressing his forehead to yours. “I know, and I’d never do that to you either.”

Guilt washed over him. How could he assume you’d do that to him? You’re one of the most conscientious people he’s ever met.

After a moments silence, you spoke again, “you know this means you’re also going to have to take care of the others now, right? Since my ankles, y’know, sprained.”

Your Orc let out a groan. “Oh God, please no.”

You chuckled, “think of it as penance for thinking I’d cheat on you.”

Sighing, he nodded, “yeah, alright. I’m sorry again.”

“I know. C’mon let’s get back and see how the others are doing.”

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Taglist <3

@sunndust @greenie-c

[dreamsteddie]

AITA Steddie Au Part Three

Part Two

Hello! Sorry for the delay! This week was very busy with student conferences and my own midterms so I haven't had a lot of time to work on this. This is more of an interlude building up to bigger things, but I hope you enjoy it!

Also! Get in the comments if you have any ideas of an actual name for this series so I can stop calling it AITA Steeddie Au. I can't think of anything good 😓

------

Eddie takes Steve on that second date.

And then a third and a fourth and eventually he stops counting because he's seeing Steve as often as he can between their jobs and other responsibilities. He feels high off it, giddy with possibility and hope for this new thing that he's never had before.

Eddie has done relationships before, a couple of times. A small handful of boys and girls he took out on dates and tried his best to woo all went up in flames one way or another, but none of those relationships left him feeling so gone so fast. He felt like he was always holding himself back from giving himself up completely, too afraid of falling without a safety net to reach for that deep devotion he's always craved.

Steve makes him feel like they're plunging into that unknown together.

Still, no matter how much he's been trying to avoid it, the looming specter of what the hell to do about his friends is looming over his head.

------

"Are you fucking serious right now dude?" Eddie asks, a complicated mix of righteous anger, humiliation for himself and Steve, and complete disbelief at Gareth's unwillingness to back down from this making it increasingly difficult to keep his cool.

"Look man, all I'm saying is that Steve is like, the complete antithesis of literally everything we stand for. He's a nepo baby business major who's never had an original thought in his life! I would know! I've read one of his papers." Gareth says, forced nonchalance coloring his tone and riling Eddie up even more.

He rears up, shoulders pushing back and hands grasping at the air like he could pull down his frustration from the either and condense it into a solid ball he could lob at Garteth's head to finally knock some goddamn sense into his brain.

"Hey, hey, hey. Okay, Eddie, I'm really sorry about this. It was a fucked up idea, I don't know what we were thinking." Jeff interveins before the frustrated banshy noises Eddie is letting out turn into another yelling match that won't get anyone anywhere.

"I think we just got too caught up wanting to help you get out of this rut and it all turned into something completely insane. You don't gotta forgive us Eddie, but if there's anything we can do to try and make up for it, we'll do it. Isn't that right Gareth?" Jeff pointedly asked with a look that says agree with me right now or else.

Gareth doesn't say anything.

The thing about all of this that Eddie just can't wrap his head around is the why. Why would his friends, his sheepies, do something so cruel? He knows none of them have ever looked kindly at people like Steve. Too many traumatizing high school humiliations behind them all to trust when someone who looks so much like all the guys who bullied them in high school tries to reach out, but Gareth and Jeff have never tried something like this. In fact, it's used to be Eddie doing most of the anti-jock revenge planning back in the day, even if nothing ever actually came from it.

He thought, incorrectly it seems, that they had grown out of the worst of it by now. It's been three years since Garteth graduated, and five since Eddie made his final attempt, and leaving their hometown behind did a lot to heal old hurts.

So why this? Why now?

"Is this seriously how it's going to be man? You won't tell me what the fuck any of this was really about and you're not even going to try and apologize? Seriously?" The righteous anger is starting to seep out of him, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion.

Gareth just continues to stare at him defiantly, not saying a word.

Eddie pinches his nose and takes a deep breath, "You know what? Fine. Whatever. If this is how it's going to be then I'm out. Jeff, I'll talk to you later, probably not for a little bit though. Gareth?" The other man lifts his head from where he'd been looking down at his shoes. There were tears in his eyes, just a little bit but enough for Eddie to clock it. Face red from some unnamed cocktail of emotions Eddie doesn't have the energy or desire to interrogate right now. "Call me when you're ready to grow the fuck up. I've got a second date to plan."

With that, Eddie turned on his heel and made for the open garage door.

"What about the band, man?!" Gareth called.

Eddie kept walking.

-------

That was over four weeks ago.

He hasn't spoken to Gareth for most of that time. The first couple of days he blew up his phone with angry to half-apologizing texts that Eddie promptly ignored. After the second day, he sent a single text back letting him know he didn't want to talk unless he had a real explanation and apology to give both him and Steve and that he was going to block his number for a little while. He could let Freak know if he was ever ready to talk like adults. Eddie trusted him to tell if Gareth was being genuine.

In other news.

Waking up to strong arms secured around his naked waist is fast becoming Eddie's favorite way to start the day. He and Steve slept together for the first time last week, and since then it's like neither of them can get enough of each other.

"Hey, baby." Steve rasps in his ear, tilting his head down to smear sleepy kisses onto his shoulder. The hand that was resting against his ribs meanders its way down to the trail of hair under his navel, scratching just a little and making Eddie feel like a contented mutt. He's not sure if he should feel horny or like he could sink into the mattress and sleep for another full 8 if Steve keeps holding him like his.

"Mornin' sweetheart." he says deciding that a couple more hours of sleep is definitely the way to go. Steve, it seems, has other idead.

"What you thinkin' about this early in the morning?" He asks, hand continuing to scratch lazily at Eddie's stomach like he's not completely destroying Eddie's will and ability to focus on anything but the warm body behind him.

But it's been a long time coming, and as much as he doesn't want to, Eddie needs to start thinking about what he wants to do about his friends? former friends? estranged family? band and Steve deserves to be a part of the conversation.

Eddie sits up, bringing Steve up with him to rest against the headboard. "I've been thinking about the band. Gareth and Jeff, that is." He pauses, waits for some kind of reaction that doesn't come. Steve looks concerned, but not in the way he thought he would.

"Ok." Steve responds, waiting for more.

"I guess I just don't know what to do." He looks out into the middle distance of Steve's bedroom. Takes in the display of swim, basketball, and baseball trophies displayed proudly on a shelf, catching the early morning light. "I'm still so fucking mad. It's honestly kind of irritating how mad it makes me to think of what they did. It was so fucking stupid."

Steve hums a little, letting Eddie get it out.

"But at the same time I can't help but fucking miss them. Miss the music and the campaigns and everything else." It's honestly been eating him alive, the mix of anger and longing he's been feeling for his friends. The constant longing to go back in time and stop them from concocting this shit show but also, like, stalk Gareth to his 8 AM Business class so he can run into Steve and they can fall in love at first sight or some shit.

Silence.

Steve shifts. Moves so he can look Eddie right in the face. He looks thoughtful in a way that Eddie had to get used to. Sometimes when Steve is thinking hard about something, he scrunches his face in such a way that it makes him look like he's judging you. He isn't, it's just an unfortunate fact of life that his baby has a resting Judgemental Face™.

Steve heaves out a big breath, bringing Eddie back down to earth. "I mean, I don't want to, like, cloud your judgement or whatever but maybe you should try and talk to them one more time. Jeff appologized right?"

And, ok that's definetly not what Eddie was expecting to hear. It must show on his face because Steve is suddenly looking away, embaraced.

"I just..." He trails off, taking his own turn staring out at the dull shine of his old acomplishments. Eddie watches as his face once again turns pensive as he stares harder at the remnents of his high school acheivements.

"I used to be a pretty shitty guy. Did the same kind of shit your buddies did a couple of times." This isn't necessarily news to Eddie. They've talked a little about who Steve was in high school and how much work he put into himself before he decided to go back to college. It's still a bit of a shock to hear, though.

"So I get how someone can make a mistake like that, y'know? So if you want to try and talk it out, I won't be offended. I know we're in this together, now." Peace said, Steve reaches for Eddie's hand and gives it a squeeze.

It hits Eddie again, just how good Steve Harrington is. It hasn't been long, not really, since they got together but they've fallen together so completley, so easily, that it's easy to forget that there's still so much they have to learn, so many layers for Eddie to peal back. Behind every judgemental remark and complaint about the frequent phone calls he gets from chuldren he used to babysit in his hometown is a man who cares deeply and is capable of great forgiveness, even if it hasn't been earned yet.

Eddie squeezes his hand back.

"Are you sure?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah, it's not we have to totally forgive them, right? But I think you need to get a real answer from both of them about why it happened. Maybe you can find a way past it, maybe they'll say something that puts the nail in the coffin." He responds.

Eddie takes a deep breath, and thinks.

Steve is right. Eddie isn't satisfied with any of the answers he got last time, and he knows that there has to be more to the story than "trying to get Eddie out of a rut" and he's not going to be able to put any of this to rest until he understands.

"Ok, yeah. I'll call them." Steve gives him an encouraging smile at that, rubbing the back of Eddie's hand where they haven't let go yet.

"Good, I'm glad. And I can come with you if you want. Hit em from both sides." he says. Eddie think's he'll take him up on that offer, but right now he had more imporant things to do. Namely, tackling his sweet boyfriend onto the mattress and having a mid morning tousle.

"We'll see. Right now I've got more imporant things to do." He says in his best aproximation of a sultry voice. He doesn't know how good it really is, but it seems to work based on the way Steve's eyes get hooded and he looks down at Eddie's mouth.

Gotcha.

Before Steve can lean down and kiss him, Eddie snaps his hands down to his boyfriend's sides in a well executed tickle atack. Steve immedietly jolts and starts howling with laughter, yelling between breaths that Eddie is "a fucking asshole" as he continues his relentless atacks.

Eventually, Steve manages to regain his bearings and go on the offence, turning them over and trapping his boyfriend's hands beneath his knees so he can atack Eddie's equally ticklish sides.

Once the late morning has passes into early noon and they've both settled back into Steve's signifigantly more rumpled be, Eddie takes one more moment to think about the furute to come before he shelves it. He knows that whatever conversation is to come, it won't be easy, and even if things go as smoothly as possible with Gareth and Jeff, things will never be the same between them all.

Looking down at Steve, who is sporting the most outrageous bedhead in human history, laughing at the stream of reals Robin sent him in the middle of the night, he thinks he'll be okay either way.

Tag List

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[faithshouseofchaos]

Hello! I came here to offer a request for Franco Colapinto (just an idea that popped in my mind, don't mind if you ignore it)

Basically, Franco wants to show the culture of Argentina to reader, and decides to do take them into a football match of Boca, his favourite team

Now, Boca's fans aren't exactly a calm fanbase, with lots of shouting chants, jumping, and many times you can see people with drums (bombos in spanish) and even fireworks some times

This part of me is now apart of you — Franco Colapinto x reader

Word count

Fluff

A/n— I hope I got it right

Tagged— @crispysoup318 @meeel-things @alex-wotton @bieberismysoulmate @dejavuontrack @barcelonaloverf1life @nominsgirl l @bluebluesoul l @chenlesbitxh @abq654 @sweate-r-weathe-r

The hum of the stadium was already electric as you walked hand in hand with Franco, his face alight with a kind of excitement you hadn’t seen before. “Bienvenidos a la Bombonera,” he said with a grin, spreading his arms as if he was welcoming you to his own home. The stands around you were packed with fans draped in blue and yellow, Boca Juniors’ colors, waving flags that rippled like waves under the stadium lights.

People of all ages surrounded you—families with young kids on their shoulders, groups of old friends with their arms around each other, and older men with well-worn Boca scarves, faces weathered by years of cheering for their team. Everywhere you looked, the fans wore Boca’s colors proudly, from jerseys to hats to scarves. They didn’t just look like a fanbase; they looked like a family, connected by something unspoken and deep.

“Just wait until the game starts,” Franco whispered, leaning close so you could hear him over the buzz. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

As the players entered the field, a roar rose from the crowd, powerful enough that you felt it vibrating in your chest. Franco joined in with a booming shout, raising his fist, while everyone around you chanted with a unified voice, the passion in their cries contagious. You watched as people leaped, jumped, some of them banging on bombos—massive drums—in a rhythm that matched the heartbeat of the stadium.

Franco caught your expression—half amazed, half startled—and laughed, squeezing your hand. “Welcome to Boca,” he said, his eyes shining with pride. “Here, it’s more than football. It’s family, it’s life.”

For a moment, you could only stare at him, realizing how deeply this mattered to him. Before you could even respond, fireworks burst overhead, showering sparks as the chant around you grew louder, enveloping you both. You felt Franco’s arm around your shoulders, pulling you in close, his voice joining the chorus around you, and in that moment, you were part of the energy that pulsed through the Bombonera.

The match was in full swing, the ball moving swiftly from one end of the field to the other. Every time Boca’s players got close to the goal, the crowd roared, an ocean of voices swelling in hope and excitement.

Franco leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear to be heard over the noise. “See that player in the number ten jersey? That’s our best guy. Every Boca fan knows him. When he’s got the ball, we believe anything is possible.”

You nodded, watching the player weave through the opposition, and Franco’s fingers tapped excitedly on your shoulder. The anticipation in the air was almost tangible, and you felt it too, a strange kind of magic that seemed to wrap you up in the pulse of the crowd.

Then, out of nowhere, Boca scored.

The stadium exploded. People were hugging, cheering, some even crying with joy, and Franco was right there with them, his face lit up with pure exhilaration. He turned to you, grabbing your shoulders. “Did you feel that? This is what it means to be Boca. We fight, we celebrate, we believe with everything we have.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your voice lost in the wave of chants that rose around you. Franco’s eyes shone as he joined the chant, shouting along with the crowd. He nudged you gently. “This one is easy; I’ll teach you.”

He clapped in rhythm, saying the words slowly so you could follow. Before you knew it, you were chanting along, and Franco looked at you like you’d just joined him in something sacred. “There you go!” he laughed, pride clear in his voice. “You’re officially a Boca fan now.”

As the game went on, Franco pointed out every little thing, explaining traditions, telling you about famous goals scored in this very stadium, the times he’d stood right here as a kid with his family. “My dad used to bring me here,” he said, a nostalgic smile tugging at his lips. “He taught me everything about Boca. It’s like… passing down a piece of yourself, you know?”

The crowd around you started a chant that grew louder and louder, almost deafening. Franco’s face lit up as he joined in, his voice blending with thousands of others. He looked at you, eyes bright and full of pride. “This chant—this is one of the oldest. We sing it to remind everyone that Boca is forever. It’s not just a team; it’s in your blood, your heart.”

You watched him, feeling something warm and deep stirring inside you as you saw how much this all meant to him. “You really love this, don’t you?” you asked softly, taking in his face—his wide smile, the fire in his eyes, the way he seemed so completely at home here.

He nodded, voice steady but thick with emotion. “It’s hard to explain. Boca… it’s family. It’s a part of who I am. No matter where I go, I carry this with me.” He paused, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “And now, I get to share it with you. That’s something I always wanted.”

The game continued, and as Boca kept pressing forward, the crowd’s energy only grew. People jumped in place, chanting with all their might. Franco turned to you with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Ready to try something new?”

Before you could answer, he grabbed your hand and led you to the edge of the seats, right where the crowd was most intense. You both started jumping with everyone else, and Franco’s laughter was infectious. He held you close, his arm around your shoulders, guiding you through the motions and claps of each chant.

As the game neared its end, with Boca leading, Franco looked out over the field, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile that was both triumphant and serene. “There’s nothing like this,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Moments like this, they remind you why you’re here. Why are you alive.”

You felt his fingers lace through yours, his grip strong and sure. The game was nearly over, but you sensed that, for Franco, this was just the beginning. He had let you into his world, one that ran deep with passion and history. And as the final whistle blew and the crowd erupted one last time, he leaned close, his voice warm in your ear.

“I hope you know now,” he said softly, his words barely audible over the chanting, “that this—this part of me—is yours, too.”

[toraoistired]

let's talk about project 2025 and smut.

bc I've seen some of my favorite authors already state they aren't writing any more smut due to the mere threat of project 2025 going into effect. And hey, I'm a simple person who likes to read abt sexy times.

pls read through all the way and share if ya like any of what i wrote here - i don't want panic to be spreading through the writers of tumblr/ao3 like wildfire unchecked.

qualifications: BA in political science focusing on domestic policy, activism and ethnic studies.

Part I - what is it?

project 2025 at its core is a roadmap. it was created by the Heritage Foundation (an extremely far right disgusting think tank), and plenty of people associated with the previous and incoming Trump presidency. its like 900 pages of alt-right, christian nationalist bullshit.

but its not uncommon.

think tanks like the Heritage Foundation often create roadmaps like this to plot out what they would most want to see in a future presidency or period of political control. it isn't even particular to right-wing think tanks; left wing ones do it too! the difference in this case is the magnitude and attention paid to the manifesto.

the heritage foundation is a vast organization with a lot of money, and has had a part in US politics for a long ass time now. because of this, what they say/do carries a bit more weight. combined with the fact that dems in the past election used project 2025 as a common refrain (instead of like, developing their own policy but whatevs), you get a general public who is aware of the buzzword "project 2025" but not knowledgeable about what it contains.

what it does actually include is certainly worrying, but among the new freaky shit is a ton of stuff that has been on the republican party's to do list since day one, like dismantling the department of education. just reading that seems really shocking, i know, but if you look back to when the department was created, you will find evidence of republicans trying desperately to dismantle it.

i find the media flurry around project 2025 to be a bit concerning, because while i understand dems wanting to show voters how dangerous this shit can be, its also made it into something far more important than it could actually be. as i stated earlier, these types of policy blueprints are extremely common among think tanks. its like their entire job!! and yes, this one is scarier and more visible than others, but it

a.) isn't the official policy of the incoming admin (and if you look at their actual policy statement, its very clear they don't rly have policies, so who knows what that's gonna look like)

b.) isn't united states federal law

Part II - what's it gonna look like?

i'm not gonna sit here and say you shouldn't be worried about project 2025, bc a lot of whats in it is freaky asf. but that freakiness is what (in my opinion) will be its primary challenge. since its so out there, the extreme right wing republicans are going to have to work their asses off to get the votes they need to pass these things.

which brings me to another point-- project 2025 is a whole list of proposals. its not like republicans can put forth one bill that has the entirety of project 2025 in it and pass it all at once. for a whole laundry list of reasons, that's not possible. the process of getting one bill passed through the house and senate is an excruciatingly long one, and doing this process for 900 pages worth of plans ain't gonna be easy.

i should mention that donald trump has yet to endorse the plan as his own, so there's the real possibility that he wont even want to implement any of the ideas included. i could 100% see him ignoring the entire plan because he doesn't like that someone else came up with it tbh. and while i don't believe he has never heard of the heritage foundation, as he has claimed in the past, i think it is important to note that there hasn't been any confirmation from him that project 2025 is his roadmap.

the plan includes rollbacks of rights for every minority group possible, restrictions on immigration, access to morning-after pills, restructuring of the federal government to allow for easier hiring and firing based on little/no evidence, etc. all in all, not great.

but again, project 2025 isn't united states federal law

Part III - what does it mean for fanfic authors?

the section that has the fanfic-consuming/creating world in a tizzy is the bit about outlawing pornography. this is a concerning policy propsal, but not because of possible fanfic bans. rather, bc project 2025 and the heritage foundation at large sees queerness as inherently and exclusively sexual.

"pornography, manifested today in the omnipresent propagation of transgender ideology and sexualization of children" (The Heritage Foundation, p.5)

thus, if they ban pornography (with a definition that includes/focuses on queerness), they can effectively ban expressions of queerness in the united states.

that shit is scary. and while i never want to rely on foundational documents when the people interpreting those documents (court justices (esp those appointed by the previous and incoming trump admin)), i will hesitantly say that this is gonna be a tough sell. both from a constitutional standpoint, and from a broad base support standpoint.

for the first of the two points, arguing that the first amendment doesn't "apply" to something is always a slippery slope, and defending that point is extraordinarily difficult. obviously this isnt always the case, but especially relating to pornography and obscenity, proving that a work fails the Miller test (a three part test created in Miller v. California (1973) to determine if something is obscene or not) is, like, really hard (heh).*

while the miller test is precedent for specific cases that come up in the court system, if some version of the porn ban goes into effect, the US court system is going to be dealing with challenges from every state, every form of media, every fandom.

which brings me to the second point. broad base support.

while the headline about Grindr crashing in Milwaukee during the RNC wasn't true in 2024, republican events in previous have brought an influx in users to the area in which the events are held if ya know what i'm sayin👀

on a real note though, getting a pornography ban passed in the united states would be exceedingly hard (no pun intended). especially one that includes forms of media like written pornography, not just visual. in terms of feasibility, a ban on video pornography is incrementally more likely than one on all forms of pornography. arguments against porn are weak at best, and the anti-porn movement in the US (usually religious) has been trying, and failing, for decades to ban pornography. most content about porn bans also refers primarily to video-based porn, not written smut.

let's just say worst case scenario something like this does go into action. anything you've written before the law goes into action cannot be used as a way to prosecute you. that would be an example of ex post facto punishment, which is explicitly prohibited in the constitution and by court precedent.

*note: i'm not endorsing the way the US court precedents around porn/obscenity look, as they are another symptom of purity culture and anti-sex culture created in the US

Part IV - what do we do?

well, giving up before a bill has even been proposed ain't it. it makes me deeply sad to see so many writers saying they wont be writing smut anymore because of the vague possibility of this plan. not only does it make me sad, it makes me angry. because that means people have seen so much misinformation about what project 2025 is and how it works that they are too scared to do anything about it. let me repeat again.

project 2025 is not law in the united states of america, nor is it in the process of becoming so. act accordingly.

so go forth, write smut, be gay, do some shit to make the heritage foundation angry today. and don't give up before the battle has even started. bc that's how they win. and i know shit seems really scary, but community and mutual aid is how we are gonna make it through this, so do your due diligence and research what you're scared about! knowledge is power and you gotta wield that sh*t.

i'd like to end with a quote from Timothy Snyder, who everyone and their mother has been quoting recently, but i still think it has value.

"Do not obey in advance. Most of the power of authoritarianism is freely given. In times like these, individuals think ahead about what a more repressive government will want, and then offer themselves without being asked. A citizen who adapts in this way is teaching power what it can do. Anticipatory obedience is a political tragedy." (Excerpted from On Tyranny by Timothy Snyder, 2017)

[Note - i have cited sources where appropriate, but this is also based on my (important to note, informed) opinion. please treat it as such, thank you]

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

~{ You all know what time it is! }~

•The Circus•

Jazz and Danny have always taken care of each other when their parents eventually forgot about them

Like when Jazz had to learn how to cook and fight off reanimated food to feed Danny when she was 6 because their parents got a new idea and had to work on it right that second

Or when Danny had to find a way to copy Maddies hand writing so when Jazz got sick or had class trip and she was to busy with other things so could go and have fun like someone her age so have

So you can tell they always took care of the other so when Maddie and Jack tried to lock Danny in the lab and have their way with the “Ghost scum” Jazz stood by his side until the end

And now that they both are full ghost that’s not going to change a bit they took care of each other in life

They going to take care of the other in death

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

When The Circus held out their hand for Jazz and Danny they were a bit surprised and untrusting in the beginning in fact Jazz would never leave Danny’s side or the other way around

But they have been with The Circus for some time now ( It’s hard to tell how long you’ve been in here Jazz and Danny find out pretty quickly ) and the people of The Circus has gained some of their trust but never quite all of it ( only the other has their full trust )

but the one they trust the most has to be the ringmasters or the leader of The Circus they keep everyone safe and protected so Jazz and Danny can respect that in them

And they made sure Jazz and Danny were safe as well so they respected the ringmaster a lot but not to the point where they would take their side over the other but they still respected them

Back on track, Jazz has been given the role as a sharp shooter and Danny as a Aerial act and of course jazz and Danny are always in acts together (The ringmaster has tried to get them to be separated acts due to their different roles and he got punched by jazz after he got to close to Danny for her liking, she gains everyones respect that day)

And if you need danny you often have to get past jazz first due to her being overprotective of Danny

How Danny and Jazz fight, Danny will use the silk he uses often in his and Jazz’s acts grab the person and fly around as fling the person all around and disorient them as Jazz fires her gun at them until the person is unable to fight or Danny and Jazz just get broad they will from Danny’s silks or whatever he’s using for flying around let them hit the ground or Danny will stop flying and Jazz gos at it, they treat it like target practice (They got everyone respect and fear after they did that the first time)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

~{ Now onto the DCU part! }~

A emergency meeting is called for the JL about a new potential enemy or a rescue mission

So when one of the heroes [Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, The Flash, Green arrow, Green lantern, Martian Manhunter, Aqua Man] in the meeting ask what it is are told about

A large big top that has large mechanical legs with the possibility of more due to the build of this structure and it seems to have been avoiding main areas where one of the main members of the JL are like its hiding

inhabitants of this is known to be unpredictable in their actions and how they react to people and objects out side of the structure and how they respond to questions about the big top or anything related to The Circus they will act as though the big top and whole Circus itself can hear them and become quiet and run off (They don’t really talk to people out side of acts so they just run back to where the others are or back to where their act is taking place)

And very little is known about them but this was brought to their attention due to the disappearances of people in the wake of The Circus (The ghost walk in and move on to the Ghost zone or find peace) and this is a problem and with the concerning words of some of the people who are in The Circus it is leaning towards the rescue mission

And they need to find out what is happening and need a team to go under cover and young justice volunteers to go under cover

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

~{ Now onto Danny and Jazz’s outfits! }~

For Danny I’m thinking

This for the outfit ~{ Or not this is really the best I could find that I at least liked enough }~

And for Jazz I’m thinking something like this

Or this ~{ I’m not picky about which }~

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

~{ And that’s it for this! I hope you things like it and life’s to short punch a politician! Byeeeee }~

[theoncomingchaos]

Who loves Rook: Spite or Lucanis

I've been seeing a lot of discourse about this, and I just want to add my thoughts.

I might be totally wrong about this, but here we go. When Spite was put into Lucanis, he was still Determination. The fact that he changed throughout the torture, forced insertion, and imprisonment suggests to me that they have been put into a speedrun of a similar situation to Anders and Justice/Vengeance where they have started to meld. (As Anders put it, you wouldn't know where one begins and the other ends). Just like Anders and Vengeance, Lucanis and Spite can have separate consciousnesses and even disagree about things, but their core values have started to influence one another and become a part of one another- heightening certain aspects.

I think this melding is why we see some dialogues where Rook tells Lucanis that he sounds like Spite and similarly it's also the reason for the shared attraction- which I fully believe is coming originally from Lucanis.

I'll be honest my first time through I romanced Lucanis and was very disappointed. I didn't even see him and Neve ever flirt (she only ever encouraged us!) But still, it seemed to go from 0 to 60 with him. Now, I am on my second playthrough and I only just met him, but I am starting to see some really subtle looks and dialogues that suggest that Lucanis wasn't lying later when he said he was attracted to Rook from the beginning, but was afraid to really pursue anything or even acknowledge the possibility of being with them. With his fear of trusting people, ptsd from the prison, failed history in romance, and his new situation with Spite that he still hadn't worked out yet, he never thought anything would or could ever come of his feelings. We know Lucanis loves romance stories and likely longs for one of his own, but in such a situation it must have seemed truly impossible and terrifying to let someone else in. Especially someone you really care for and are starting to trust. So, he pushed it all down. Rook flirts? Maybe a small smile, but then quickly lock it all up with everything else he can't handle. Focus on work. Don't think about Spite, or Rook, or anything difficult.

However, if the melding has already happened as I suspect, then the feelings Spite is expressing are shared with (and likely sourced from) Lucanis, he's just better at expressing it directly- which makes sense for a spirit that was once Determination. When you first talk to Lucanis after the rescue, the thing Spite says about Rook changes accordingly to your tone, but to me the responses still sound like they come from Lucanis and are then echoed in Spite: "He doesn't want to hurt us." Even the "He's more fun than you" is something Lucanis seems to think about himself as he is fully aware that much of his life has not been his own and believes "all he knows is death."

Leading back to the main point, Lucanis's trust and interest in Rook would be heightened by Spite the way Anders' anger towards the templars was heightened. Even though they are finally free from the prison, their is a sense of constant suffering from still feeling trapped by fear, regret, and pain- Spite feels that suffering too. The elements of determination are still within him the same way justice is another side to vengeance. Both spite and vengeance are the results of failing to achieve their goals of Justice and Determination. Spite sees Rook as a way to free them from pain and restraint, a glowing and beautiful key to the prison door, and he is determined to do what needs to be done to solve the problem. That's why he doesn't hesitate. He has no fear. He wants to talk to Rook. He wants Rook to come in and free them.

After Rook has freed them, they become a source of comfort and safety, once they encourage Lucanis and Spite to find a way to cohabit comfortably, the two continue to meld, and the need to protect Rook, to love Rook, to keep them, is very deeply shared. Now, IF Spite was somehow removed or even somehow restored (Both of which I think are impossible) that would likely change. Determination outside of Lucanis would likely become more like Compassion. He would likely forget the horrors he experienced to return to his original purpose.

So, that leaves some final questions, particularly one Hawke helpfully asked Anders- Is Spite an unwilling party in the threesome?

That's up to everyone's own morality. While both Spite and Lucanis didn't have a choice to become like this, it is the situation they are in and the way they have to find a way to accept and live with because there really doesn't seem to be any real way to change it. Through their time together, Lucanis and Spite have influenced each other and grown into something new. Part of that is Spite also loving Rook. In that way, for those who are feeling (rightfully) underwhelmed by Lucanis's romance, Spite can almost be seen as a symbolic expression of Lucanis's love.

All that being said, I think there were some small things they could have done to make the romance more satisfying over all...but I'll save that for another post.

[youcouldmakealife]

SOTM: Luke/Andreas; wined and dined

For the prompt: Andreas and Luke meeting/hooking up the second time

I literally finished this before I realised you guys probably meant like, the second time they hooked up, not the whole second time 'round. Mea culpa, everybody. And for those who interpreted it the same way I did...you're welcome?

Andreas can’t remember the last time he was wined and dined.

Though maybe that isn’t the best way to describe it — Andreas has dinner meetings all the time, has sat beside clients at the best restaurants in almost every NHL city, sampled from the menus of half of New York's most exclusive restaurants. Always on the agency’s dime, of course, or his multi-millionaire client’s, or the teams they play for, or the teams who want to sign them.

There’s plenty of wine involved — though Andreas always restricts himself to a glass when it's business — plenty of dining. But a meeting’s a meeting, whether it’s in a conference room, patiently waiting for a GM who’s been around since there were still six teams in the league to figure out how to unmute his mic, or eating something exceptional at a Michelin Star restaurant.

So obviously that’s not what he means. It’s not that he hasn’t been dating either, though admittedly, he had less and less time to spare for it as he got older. And not that he hasn’t gone on dinner dates specifically, where he allows himself a second glass of wine, orders what he’d like, rather than ‘what he’s having sounds good’, unless, Andreas supposes, it truly does sound good. So there has been wining and dining, in fact. Possibly even a surplus of it.

And yet.

At a certain point Andreas thinks he just stopped expecting romance. It wasn’t any sort of resigned, jaded disappointment at the dating scene. Not that it isn't a shitshow, but it's probably better here than just about anywhere else. More an acknowledgment that most guys didn’t seem to be looking for romance, at least the ones Andreas was dating.

And that was fine, because Andreas wasn’t really looking for it either. Romance was undeniably nice, but he worked long hours, put almost all of himself into his job, and what he had left didn’t require much more than good conversation and some companionship, a spark of attraction, mediocre or better sex. Romance might have come along down the line, but things didn’t tend to last long even when he did find someone who met his simple — yet almost impossible to find — criteria.

That one, he thinks has more to do with him than it does with them. Andreas’ career is one of those things that’s attractive in theory, but significantly less endearing when he’s slipping in and out of bed at all hours, constantly checking his email or ducking out to make a call, flying off to who knows where, sometimes with plenty of notice, sometimes with none at all.

Maybe his life just isn’t conducive to romance. He doesn’t like to think that, but there would be worse things, wouldn’t there? He has a job that he finds fascinating, a job that offers something different every day, a job that, incidentally, pays him more money than he has the time to spend. He could retire tomorrow if he wanted to, live the rest of his life in comfort, dedicate all his time to searching for true love, but why would he want to? It sounds excruciatingly boring.

So he works — he works a lot, works more than he should, at least according to everyone he knows, including Dave, the giant hypocrite — and he — well, he works. But it’s fine. Most people have to search for meaning in his life, but he has his. If anyone asks about it — and they all ask, except Dave, that gem of a fucking man — he says he doesn’t feel like he’s lacking anything. He’s not lying, either.

That doesn’t mean something doesn’t squeeze tight when Luke conveniently ‘happens to be in town’ — though if there’s any town that actually applies to, it’s New York — when he figures they should ‘catch up’. Even as he tells himself that he’s just catching up with an old flame, one who doesn’t even live in the same country as him anymore. Even as he tells himself once for old time’s sake, and then twice doesn’t hurt considering they’ve still got chemistry, then when it’s been three, four, half a dozen, and if Luke’s got a return ticket Andreas doesn’t know when it’s for, but it doesn’t feel like it’s any time soon.

Luke has always been a romantic. He’d deny it up and down if Andreas said it, and it wouldn’t even be a kneejerk macho shit — Andreas doesn’t think Luke even knows he does anything out of the ordinary. Andreas doubts he was thinking ‘I’m going to woo Andreas’ as he asked him out to dinner, not the first time, or the second, not when he came with a bag of groceries and a bottle of wine from a vineyard Andreas mentioned in passing, said he’d cook for him, laughing as he fought with Andreas’ temperamental bottle opener, scoffing when Andreas impatiently intervened before he could ruin a good bottle of wine.

Technically, he doesn’t even know if 'wooing' is Luke’s aim at all. He could just need the change of pace, miss the city, the speed of it, the convenience, and while he was here, Andreas was just as convenient as the rest of it — good conversation, good companionship, Luke more attractive than ever, the sex still fantastic. And they didn’t even have to get to know one another. What could be easier?

But Andreas doesn’t think so, at least not judging by the way Luke’s started looking at him.

Andreas doesn’t think anyone has ever looked at him like Luke does, the complete focus of it. Looking isn’t a strong enough word — it’s more like he’s taking him in, trying make sure that he gets every single detail correct, the way Andreas imagines a painter would gaze at their subject, a poet at their lover. Luke’s no poet, but, well — maybe he is, a little, minus the words. There’s something about the way Luke looks at the world. Something about the way Luke looks at him.

It used to unnerve Andreas, a little, especially because Luke wasn’t only looking at him like that over romantic candlelit dinners and endorphin fueled pillow talk, but also during the most mundane moments. Andreas would be scowling at his phone, pecking out an answer to a client who decided he urgently needed to discuss his contract on a Sunday morning, a full season before it expired, and he’d look up and there Luke was, visibly taking him in. Sometimes there’d be a little smile on his face — the moments Andreas let himself be a little cranky there often was — but often there wasn’t, just Luke’s eyes on him, taking him in like he was never going to see him again.

It was — a lot. Luke was a lot, almost from the very beginning. Andreas thought he was going to get a regrettable hook up out of things, and then he thought it was going to be a few of them, and it was like a switch was flipped, and Luke went from the hot, fun, surprisingly good in bed client Andreas had completely unprofessionally fucked — and not just once, but a few times, and then a handful — to even more surprisingly good company outside of bed, to something Andreas didn’t quite have a name for. Someone who was gone even more than Andreas was, someone Andreas started to miss when he was gone. Andreas was the one staying put, most of the time, but Luke was the one always watching him like he’d disappear the moment he closed his eyes.

The look hasn’t changed, and Andreas imagines it means the same thing now as it did then, Luke who doesn’t blink, Luke who jumps both feet first, Luke the romantic.

It doesn’t feel as overwhelming now, though Andreas suspects he’ll be spending some time thinking about just how quickly Luke was on board. How quick they both were — Andreas can’t pretend he doesn’t know what’s coming, what’s already here, can’t pretend that isn’t something he wants, when he could end things with a word.

But he doesn’t. This time Andreas lets himself look back, and when Luke catches him at it, he doesn’t let himself look away.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: The Master Fiction Plot

Lester Dent's "Master Fiction Plot", often referred to as the "Lester Dent Formula" is a widely circulated guide to writing a saleable 6,000-word pulp story.

This is a formula, a master plot, for any 6000-word pulp story.

It has worked on adventure, detective, western and war-air. It tells exactly where to put everything.

It shows definitely just what must happen in each successive thousand words.

The business of building stories seems not much different from the business of building anything else.

Here's how it starts:

A DIFFERENT MURDER METHOD FOR VILLAIN TO USE

A DIFFERENT THING FOR VILLAIN TO BE SEEKING

A DIFFERENT LOCALE

A MENACE WHICH IS TO HANG LIKE A CLOUD OVER HERO

One of these DIFFERENT things would be nice, two better, three swell. It may help if they are fully in mind before tackling the rest.

A different murder method could be--different.

Thinking of shooting, knifing, hydrocyanic, garroting, poison needles, scorpions, a few others, and writing them on paper gets them where they may suggest something.

Scorpions and their poison bite?

Maybe mosquitos or flies treated with deadly germs?

If the victims are killed by ordinary methods, but found under strange and identical circumstances each time, it might serve, the reader of course not knowing until the end, that the method of murder is ordinary.

Scribes who have their villain's victims found with butterflies, spiders or bats stamped on them could conceivably be flirting with this gag.

Probably it won't do a lot of good to be too odd, fanciful or grotesque with murder methods.

The different thing for the villain to be after might be something other than jewels, the stolen bank loot, the pearls, or some other old ones.

Here, again one might get too bizarre.

Unique locale? Easy.

Selecting one that fits in with the murder method and the treasure--thing that villain wants--makes it simpler, and it's also nice to use a familiar one, a place where you've lived or worked.

So many pulpateers don't. It sometimes saves embarrassment to know nearly as much about the locale as the editor, or enough to fool him.

Here's a nifty much used in faking local color.

For a story laid in Egypt, say, author finds a book titled "Conversational Egyptian Easily Learned," or something like that. 

He wants a character to ask in Egyptian, "What's the matter?"

He looks in the book and finds, "El khabar, eyh?"

To keep the reader from getting dizzy, it's perhaps wise to make it clear in some fashion, just what that means.

Occasionally the text will tell this, or someone can repeat it in English.

But it's a doubtful move to stop and tell the reader in so many words the English translation.

The writer learns they have palm trees in Egypt.

He looks in the book, finds the Egyptian for palm trees, and uses that.

This kids editors and readers into thinking he knows something about Egypt.

Here's the second installment of the master plot.

Divide the 6000 word yarn into four 1500 word parts. In each 1500 word part, put the following:

FIRST 1500 WORDS

First line, or as near thereto as possible, introduce the hero and swat him with a fistful of trouble. Hint at a mystery, a menace or a problem to be solved--something the hero has to cope with.

The hero pitches in to cope with his fistful of trouble. (He tries to fathom the mystery, defeat the menace, or solve the problem.)

Introduce ALL the other characters as soon as possible. Bring them on in action.

Hero's endevours land him in an actual physical conflict near the end of the first 1500 words.

Near the end of first 1500 words, there is a complete surprise twist in the plot development.

SO FAR:

Does it have SUSPENSE? 

Is there a MENACE to the hero?

Does everything happen logically?

At this point, it might help to recall that action should do something besides advance the hero over the scenery.

Suppose the hero has learned the dastards of villains have seized somebody named Eloise, who can explain the secret of what is behind all these sinister events.

The hero corners villains, they fight, and villains get away. Not so hot.

Hero should accomplish something with his tearing around, if only to rescue Eloise, and surprise! Eloise is a ring-tailed monkey.

The hero counts the rings on Eloise's tail, if nothing better comes to mind.

They're not real. The rings are painted there. Why?

SECOND 1500 WORDS

Shovel more grief onto the hero.

Hero, being heroic, struggles, and his struggles lead up to:

Another physical conflict.

A surprising plot twist to end the 1500 words.

NOW:

Does second part have SUSPENSE?

Does the MENACE grow like a black cloud?

Is the hero getting it in the neck?

Is the second part logical?

DON'T TELL ABOUT IT***Show how the thing looked.

This is one of the secrets of writing; never tell the reader--show him.

(He trembles, roving eyes, slackened jaw, and such.)

MAKE THE READER SEE HIM.

When writing, it helps to get at least one minor surprise to the printed page.

It is reasonable to to expect these minor surprises to sort of inveigle the reader into keeping on.

They need not be such profound efforts.

One method of accomplishing one now and then is to be gently misleading.

Hero is examining the murder room.

The door behind him begins slowly to open.

He does not see it.

He conducts his examination blissfully.

Door eases open, wider and wider, until--surprise!

The glass pane falls out of the big window across the room.

It must have fallen slowly, and air blowing into the room caused the door to open.

Then what the heck made the pane fall so slowly?

More mystery.

Characterizing a story actor consists of giving him some things which make him stick in the reader's mind. TAG HIM.

BUILD YOUR PLOTS SO THAT ACTION CAN BE CONTINUOUS.

THIRD 1500 WORDS

Shovel the grief onto the hero.

Hero makes some headway, and corners the villain or somebody in:

A physical conflict.

A surprising plot twist, in which the hero preferably gets it in the neck bad, to end the 1500 words.

DOES:

It still have SUSPENSE?

The MENACE getting blacker?

The hero finds himself in a hell of a fix?

It all happens logically?

These outlines or master formulas are only something to make you certain of inserting some physical conflict, and some genuine plot twists, with a little suspense and menace thrown in. Without them, there is no pulp story.

These physical conflicts in each part might be DIFFERENT, too.

If one fight is with fists, that can take care of the pugilism until next the next yarn. 

Same for poison gas and swords. 

There may, naturally, be exceptions.

A hero with a peculiar punch, or a quick draw, might use it more than once.

The idea is to avoid monotony.

ACTION:

Vivid, swift, no words wasted.

Create suspense, make the reader see and feel the action.

ATMOSPHERE:

Hear, smell, see, feel and taste.

DESCRIPTION:

Trees, wind, scenery and water.

THE SECRET OF ALL WRITING IS TO MAKE EVERY WORD COUNT.

FOURTH 1500 WORDS

Shovel the difficulties more thickly upon the hero.

Get the hero almost buried in his troubles. (Figuratively, the villain has him prisoner and has him framed for a murder rap; the girl is presumably dead, everything is lost, and the DIFFERENT murder method is about to dispose of the suffering protagonist.)

The hero extricates himself using HIS OWN SKILL, training or brawn.

The mysteries remaining--one big one held over to this point will help grip interest--are cleared up in course of final conflict as hero takes the situation in hand.

Final twist, a big surprise, (This can be the villain turning out to be the unexpected person, having the "Treasure" be a dud, etc.)

The snapper, the punch line to end it.

HAS:

The SUSPENSE held out to the last line?

The MENACE held out to the last?

Everything been explained?

It all happen logically?

Is the Punch Line enough to leave the reader with that WARM FEELING?

Did God kill the villain? Or the hero?

Excerpts from Marilyn Cannaday's biography of Lester Dent, "Bigger than Life: the Creator of Doc Savage" (Bowling Green State University Popular Press, c1990), transcribed by Jason A. Wolcott, 1995.

Sources: 1 2 ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Plot ⚜ Character ⚜ Worldbuilding

[tinylilacbun]

maybe drew and reader get bombarded by fans and reader gets pushed and shoved cursing her to regress and drew notices and gets her away

You smile as you show Drew another tiktok, the both of you sitting on a bench in the mall. Since you both had been rather busy and stressed with the press tour of obx4 you both use the free weekend to spend some time together.

You're in the middle of showing him another fan edit of your characters from the show when you hear a group of giggling and squealing fans approach you both.

At first you were happy, smiling at them and Drew does the same. When they ask if they could take some pictures or have autographs you obviously agree and pose for some pictures.

More people start to gather around you slowly, only now recognizing the both of you and of course everyone wants a picture or just tell you how much they love your character and acting.

You try to be polite and give the fans a good meeting experience but you begin to get anxious, a little overwhelmed by them all getting closer and being pushed closer from everyone around.

As you finish giving someone an autograph you look around for any possible way to squeeze through but you're completely crowded.

You press yourself into Drew's side and he grabs your hand, giving it a subtle squeeze, some of the people cooing at the gesture.

He lowers his head to meet your eyes, seeing the way you stare up at him like a lost puppy.

He instantly knows what that means and lets go of your hand to wrap it around your waist, pulling you as close as possible as he tries to push through the fans who are talking and almost yelling from every side.

Without saying anything he keeps walking and takes you outside to the parking lot, making sure to keep a firm hold on you to let you know that he's got you.

"Guys, please, step back a little." He asks, keeping his tone low as you both reach the car, fishes the keys from his pocket he quickly unlocks it and opens the door for you, helping you inside and shuts the door again.

He apologizes to the fans, telling them that you both appreciate their support before he rounds the car to get into the driver's side, quickly starting the engine and driving off the parking lot.

You're breathing a little heavy, fumbling with the charms of your bracelet while looking out the window. Drew occasionally glances at you, his hand placed on your thigh and soft music coming from the radio.

He drives for a bit until he finds an empty parking lot, halting the car in the most secluded spot before he kills the engine and climbs out.

You're confused when he reaches your side and opens the door, unbuckling your belt he scoops you up from your seat and you wrap your arms around his neck instinctively.

Closing the car door with his foot he opens the backdoor, albeit a little clumsy with you in his arms but manages to set you down on the back seat, waiting for you to scoot a bit more to the middle to climb in after you.

The second the back door shuts you go to sit on his lap, hiding your face in his neck. "You're okay...I've got you."

He rocks you as good as he can in the cramped space, his hand rubbing up and down your back as he keeps whispering affirmations to you.

You stay silent, fisting his shirt in your hand, your breathing getting calmer again after a while.

"Was a little too much, huh? But that's okay." He assures you, planting a kiss to your forehead to which you snuggle more into him in response. "You're all good."

"Fank you..." You mumble quietly.

Drew chuckles lowly, his head resting against yours. "Not for that, baby." He says, tightening his hold on you ever so slightly, you both staying like that until you feel like moving again.

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu @mylettterstoyou @sunf1ower16

Thought I might tag the rafe ones too:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @erikasurfer

[akutasoda]

hihi!! would it possibly be ok for me to rq some fluffy romantic hcs with a shy fem s/o that musters enough courage to ask sunday to play the pocky game with her pls? ty!!

pocky game

synopsis - convincing him to play the pocky game

includes - sunday

warnings - fem!reader (no pronouns mentioned), fluff, slight crack, maybe ooc, wc - 405

↪sunday would normally be the type that would be completely opposed to these types of games. he probably wouldn't even have an idea of what it was as he doesn't exactly even look at anything similar.

↪even if he did know what it was, he would personally find it tedious or unnecessary. some kind of excuse someone may bring up to garner attention or to be needy.

↪although it was rather comedic with how quickly sunday could change up those ideas when it was you, his partner, and now he was more intrigued about the idea just for you.

↪sunday knew very well you were the shy type, a bit more on the introverted side than him and most people he knew. he never minded however, there was certainly something endearing about you and he would love you regardless.

↪as mentioned before, sunday would probably have little clue on anything to do with the pocky game or anything of the sorts, so you would have to explain.

↪even after mustering up the courage to actually ask him to play the game with you, you would need to muster up a lot more to actually explain it to him to where he understood properly what you were asking of him.

↪but eventually, he would oblige to your request. sunday would practically do anything for you at a simple request and so even if he didn't still understand what he was doing, he would still comply.

↪especially since he couldn't have imagined just how long it took for you to work up the courage to ask him and so he would feel slightly bad to immediately shut you down.

↪and so eventually you would get him to play the pocky game with you. although this could be the kind of situation where you discover just how shy sunday could be himself.

↪so it could be quite a fifty fifty as to who would back out first, you were naturally shy about everything but sunday could be especially shy about anything to do with affection or even the idea…

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

[wutheringwisteria]

Previous Post(s): [ 1 ] [ 2 ]

Requested tags: @ninastasia0 @wolfsune09 @mybanditskeletoncowboy @angieluvssalami @silas-222

It all started with a dead bird as a gift from Jimmy to get you both acquainted.

Unsettling, and unwelcomed. But Curly had persisted you to accept it, even though he himself was a little disturbed by it. That was how you met Jimmy, a kid who shared the same class as you and Curly. He was a quiet one, and acted up a lot.

You don't know how those two clicked and became best friends. Maybe it was because Curly's optimistic view of people, or Jimmy is an excellent manipulator who managed to take control of Curly. You and the latter had a rocky relationship, barely even counted as friends.

He was like a cat. Specifically a cat that has every worst possible trait it could have. He mainly brought you dead things, birds, squirrels, bunnies, etc. and claimed that it was some symbolic way to show his appreciation towards you. Yeah, even if there were those sort of traditions, you did not accept any of Jimmy's gifts.

You tolerated it at best, foolishly believing Curly's words that "He's just different than others" and with some time, you and Jimmy would get along like two peas in a pod.

It didn't get better. In fact, his behavior towards you became even worse, turning into something darker—more obsessive. Jimmy had a sick sense of pleasure when seeing you cry or be distressed. He also had a liking in seeing you bleed.

So he was a lot more rough when hanging out with you and Curly, purposely provoking you into throwing hands, only to fight back and give you a bruise or two. He loved the way blood looked on you. Sadistic bastard. But that didn't mean he came out unscathed in your guys' little fights.

To add more to his derangement, he was also a goddamn masochist. Not only did he love to inflict pain, he desired to be hurt back. And little ol' violent you gave him exactly just that. Now you're both covered in blood in the aftermath of your scuffles, and poor Curly had to be mediator and nurse for the two of you.

"C'mon, princess. You call that a punch?" He'd laugh, mocking you while bleeding from his nose.

"Fuck off."

🫧

In the present...

Red. All you could see was red, both figuratively and literally. Jimmy's face was a bloody mess, and your eyes were stained with both yours and his blood. You had caught him off guard for a moment, and you planned to just plant the axe on his leg so he couldn't move.

But the man had instincts, and he managed to narrowly avoid getting his limb chopped off and disarm the weapon from you. The axe was now a few feet away from the both of you, but you didn't care and turned the whole thing into a brutal fistfight instead.

A right hook delivered to his jaw, making him stagger back. He counters with a direct punch to your chest—which made you wheeze out the air knocked out. He took the chance to deliver another punch, aiming for your nose this time. It connects, but you didn't let the pain distract you as you retort with a left hook. It hits him once more, and the force was enough to throw him off balance.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Y/N?!" He yelled out through red-stained gums, struggling despite his bigger stature.

"What I should've done a long time ago," you muttered, and then proceeded to grab Jimmy by the hair and slam his face down repeatedly on the metal pipes on the wall.

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

Now that you think about it, the Tulpar could use a nice shade of red.

You were sure that he had broken his nose by the sheer force you're putting your adrenaline-filled body in. "You think you can get away with shit like that, huh? Well you're dead wrong, Jimmy. I won't hesitate to kill you where you stand." You sneered, barely able to contain your anger.

You let go of him and he fell down to the ground, clutching his messed up face and groaning. "What... what the hell are you talking about, you crazy bitch...?!" He glared at you, looking like he didn't commit a heinous act towards a coworker.

You walked towards where the axe was and picked it up. You take your time walking back to Jimmy's fallen and battered form. "I'm the crazy one? Fucking hypocrite." You scoffed, almost sounding amused. "Oh, well. Think whatever you want, because those will be your last thoughts."

You ready the axe, and Jimmy tried to crawl away. But it was futile as you neared. You pressed the sole of your shoe on the back of his thigh, making him groan loudly in pain. Holding the axe up, you were about to kill him right then and there, but someone spoke up.

"Y/N!"

You didn't turn or move an inch, instantly recognizing the shocked voice of Curly's. "What... what are you doing?!" When you didn't answer, it only made him even more worried. "Put... put the axe down, Y/N. Whatever Jimmy did, surely it could be fixed in—"

"No." You cut him off sharply. "I already told you this, Curly. He is not someone to be trusted, he is not a good person," you glared down at Jimmy's writhing body below you. "I don't know what you see in him, but he is a monster that isn't capable of redemption."

"Y/N—"

"I'm going to say it again, I'm doing what I should've done a long time ago."

Curly sucks in a breath, his heart practically going a thousand beats per second. No, no, this can't be happening. So with no other choice, he pulls out the gun he grabbed earlier in the cockpit and aimed it at the back of your head. "Y/N. We don't have to do this."

You sighed. "Oh, but we do. Are you really pulling a gun on me right now, Curly?" You mused, tone dripping with false casualness. You still haven't looked back at him, keeping Jimmy on the brink of getting chopped off.

"Y/N," he calls out your name for the nth time. "Put down the axe, and tell me what the fuck is going on."

"It's simple. Just open your fucking eyes, Curly!"

He freezes for a moment, taken aback by your anger. "What do you mean...?"

"Do you know what this man did to Anya?"

At the mention of the nurse's name, Jimmy looked up at you with shock and anger plastered on his face. "The hell...? What did that whore tell you—?!"

You stomp on his leg, shutting him up. You meet his eyes. "That's right. I know what you did, Jimmy." Your grip on the axe tightened, so much so that your hand started to hurt. "And I'm going to kill you for it."

"Damn it," Curly places his thumb down the revolver's hammer. "Y/N, don't you dare make another move!"

Curly doesn't want to do this, but his job as Captain was to maintain peace and order in the Tulpar. But two of his most important people are at each other's throats right now, and he needed to make a decision before things get out of hand.

You suddenly swung the axe down.

Curly barely had the time to think, but instead of pulling the trigger, he froze.

...

...

...

"HAIYAA!" Daisuke pops out of nowhere, lunging at you before the blade could come in contact with Jimmy's face. "I'm super sorry about this, Y/N!" The former yelled, immediately wrapping his arms around your torso and keeping you pinned on the ground.

"What the fu—! Daisuke! Get off!"

Swansea appeared along with Anya. "Jesus, never in my life would I be running a marathon inside a spaceship," wheezed out Swansea. After catching his breath, he went over and snatched the axe from your hands with the help of Daisuke.

Anya had her mouth covered, body tense as she takes in the bloody sight. "Oh, Y/N..."

Curly snaps out of his stunned state, putting the gun down and rushing towards his friend. "Shit, Jimmy. Looks like she got you good, huh?" He tries to make light in the situation, but horribly fails when Jimmy glared and cursed at him under his breath.

The captain moved his head towards the nurse. "Anya, can you help me with this?"

Anya hesitates before nodding. "O-Of course..." she takes one glance at you before going to assist Curly with Jimmy.

Daisuke kept a firm grip on you as he and Swansea helped you up. His face shows uncertainty, and his head was probably filled with a hundred different questions on why you wanted to kill Jimmy.

"What do we do with her, boss?" He looked at Swansea.

"We drag her ass to the medical room, that's what." Replied gruffly Swansea. He was showing disappointment and exasperation as he looks down on your form. Bloody and high on adrenaline. For a moment, you looked just like his eldest when she got into her first cat fight.

"No..." you muttered through gritted teeth, struggling against their hold. "You guys don't understand, I need—"

"What you need are painkillers, bandages, and a damn good explanation to tell me what the hell you were going to do." Swansea interrupts you, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Anya's worried eyes flickered over to you, but she only pursed her lips together and continued helping Curly.

Swansea and Daisuke began dragging you down the hall, despite your attempts to break free. You and Jimmy locked eyes once more.

"I'm going to fucking kill you." You mouthed.

And the bastard had the audacity to smirk at your words.