#my dude is out of the loop on everything

[toasted-valentine]

@pyrotechnicarus was right, that tv can fucking glow.

[gifti3]

Im cursing [REDACTED] right NOW

[deus-ex-mona]

it started as a simple song-inspired fic, how did it end up like this

[harrylights]

.

[sk3l3t0n444]

yk its kinda worrisome that i havent seen the host in a while

[pitviperofdoom]

High School Time Travelers, Part 2

It's finally here! Follow up to this story.

***

“So. Spill. What the fuck is going on with you and Angelique?”

Raph fidgeted uncomfortably, and something within Erin roared out in protest at that. They were in her room, surrounded by her clutter and band posters and the stuff he kept at her house to keep his mom from throwing it away. He wasn’t supposed to be uncomfortable here.

Eventually, he took a deep breath. “I time-traveled last night.”

“I’m serious—”

“So am I,” he said wearily. “I woke up in a house I haven’t set foot in for years, across the hall from someone I promised myself I’d never talk to again. It happened, and if you’re stuck on that part then this conversation can’t continue.”

Erin got up and paced her room, kicking aside her backpack, nearly knocking over the guitar stand in the corner. “What the fuck.”

“That’s what I said.”

“What the fuck, Raph.”

“I didn’t mean to!”

The absurdity hit her instantly—he didn’t mean to time travel, as if they were talking about him forgetting his homework or getting in Monica Dillon’s way during passing period. She wanted to laugh.

But then she remembered some of the weird things Angelique had said—about friendships imploding, about college, about shit not mattering in high school, all with the easy certainty of experience.

“Prove it,” she said. “Can you do that thing where you predict what I’m about to say?”

“I’m not stuck in a time loop, dumbass, yesterday I was thirty-three!” Raph snapped. “I had to go through math class trying to pretend I still remembered my teacher’s name!”

“Okay, okay, Jesus.” Erin held up her hands placatingly. “There’s gotta be something.”

Raph sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I dunno. Anything meaningful and unchangeable I can remember won’t happen for a while, so if you’re willing to wait for the Trump presidency or the global pandemic, there’s that.”

“The what.”

“Wait, who’s president right now? It’s still Bush, right?”

Erin pulled a face.

“Next one’s Barack Obama, he’s gonna do two terms,” Raph informed her. “First black president.”

“Oh, huh. Cool,” Erin said faintly.

“Let’s see, what else, um… Balloon Boy? Has Balloon Boy happened yet?”

“No, what the fuck is Balloon Boy?”

Raph brightened. “Yeah, so at some point this family is gonna release like, a homemade weather balloon? Or something? And there’s gonna be this huge panic because they think their son is stuck inside it, but then it turns out he was fine and hiding in the basement the whole time and it was a hoax.”

“Okay, I’ll keep an eye out for that I guess?” Erin sat down again. “You’re seriously not fucking with me right now?”

“I mean, if you want, we could forget this conversation ever happened,” Raph offered. “Continue with our normal lives, while I keep under-reacting to devastating world events.”

“Christ, I don’t know.” Erin pressed her palms into her eyes. After a moment, she lifted her head again. “Wait a minute, we’re getting off track. What does this have to do with Angelique?”

Raph’s silence could not have been louder.

“Raph,” Erin said, a little desperately.

“First you have to promise you won’t be mad,” said Raph.

“Did you sleep with her in the—” Erin paused to do some arithmetic in her head. “—eighteen years between then and now?!”

“She’s my wife,” Raph blurted out.

Moments later, Erin’s mother knocked politely on the bedroom door. “Everything okay in there?” she asked. “That’s an awful lot of screaming for a Tuesday night.”

Erin continued howling into her pillow. “She’s fine, Mrs. Yokota!” Raph called. “We’re looking at—uh—creepypastas!”

“Creepy what?”

“Uh—crap, are they still called that?—like, ghost stories and stuff!”

Placated, she left them to it. Eventually Erin recovered enough to lie back and stare listlessly at the ceiling.

“Dude.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“What the fuck is your life?” Erin demanded. “How did that even happen?”

“We ran into each other at—so my friend Hazel got roped into being in their college roommate’s bridal party and dragged me along for moral support, and Angelique was in the same friend group but with like six degrees of separation from us,” Raph explained. “It took half the reception for her to recognize me because at that point I’d been on T for a few years, but the second she realized we went to the same high school she turned fishbelly-white, pulled me aside, and apologized for how much of a bitch she was back then. It was really awkward.”

Back then, he called it, even though for Erin it was still right now. “And you married her?”

“Like eight years later, yeah.” Raph ran his hand through his hair, not quite hiding the small smile that stole over his face. “She really turned over a new leaf.”

Erin was silent for a while, mulling over this new information, combining it with what she already had from that afternoon.

“Is your name still Raphael?” she asked. “She sounded really surprised about it. And I know you said you were just taking the name on a trial run, but you really seemed to like it. Not that there’s—you know,” she added. “I know that—just because I picked it, I knew you might not… you know. It’s fine, I was just wondering. If I should call you something else.”

“I did—I do like it,” Raph assured her. “But, uh, some stuff happened. My dad found me.”

Erin’s eyebrows shot upward. “Wait, really? What’d he have to say for himself?”

“That Mom ghosted him when she got pregnant because her side guy had more money.”

“Dude, fuck your mom.”

“Don’t fuck my mom, she’ll ghost you for money, weren’t you listening?”

Erin burst out snickering. “Fuck, sorry, this isn’t funny.”

“It will be in eighteen years,” Raph said with a wry smile. “Hindsight. Anyway, he found me in—he’s gonna find me in two years unless I reach out first. He’s a good guy. My stepmom’s pretty cool, too. And I have sisters? So that’s awesome. And yeah, he had this friend who passed away when he was younger, and he always wanted to name his son after him, but then Mom disappeared and he only ended up having daughters, so when he found me, it kind of worked out.” He hesitated. “I’m Damian. Damian Raphael Harker.”

“That’s such a cool name,” Erin sighed.

Raph—Damian—tilted his head back to grin at her. “Yours is cool, too.”

“Shut up,” she said fondly.

“No, seriously,” he said emphatically. “Your name is unspeakably cool.”

There was something odd in his tone, sticking up and catching like a loose nail. It bothered her, the same way something Angelique said earlier had bothered her.

“Hey, Ra—Damian?” Erin said cautiously. “Earlier, when Angelique sat down with us, she didn’t recognize me.”

“She does, don’t worry.”

“No, she didn’t,” Erin pressed. “It took her a second to realize who I was, and she stopped herself from saying why.”

Suddenly Damian looked deeply uncomfortable. “I, uh.”

She took a deep breath. “Was I dead in your time?”

“Wh-no! No no no no, of course not!” Damian looked horrified. “We played Pathfinder like last week, you’re not dead.”

“What’s Path—no, never mind. Something’s clearly up. If we just played whatever-that-is last week, and Angelique is your wife, then why didn’t she know who I was?”

“Uh…” Damian’s hands had worked their way deep into his sleeves. “You look different, that’s all. You kind of reinvented yourself in college.”

“Oh,” Erin said, momentarily relieved. Then— “Wait.”

“What?’

“Damian. You’d—” She hesitated. “If I was a guy, you’d tell me, right?’

“Oh my God,” Damian mumbled into his be-sweatered hands.

“Damian.”

“You’re... not...”

“You’d tell me, right?”

“See, I don’t know if I would!” Damian answered, in a strained high-pitched tone. “That’s—look. If you were a guy, that’s something you’d have to work out for yourself!”

“Damian, I swear to God.”

“I can’t crack your egg for you, that’s like violating the Prime Directive!”

Erin seized a pillow and started to buffet him with it. “You are such a nerd!”

“It’s your personal journey, you can’t use me to cheat!” Damian cackled, fending her off with a plush horse.

***

“Yeah I’ll get the banana split.” Angie bounced on the balls of her feet, eyes raking over the array of toppings. “Can you put caramel and chocolate sauce on it? And Heath bar pieces, chopped strawberries, and M&Ms.”

“Yeah, sure thing.”

It took all of her self-control not to press her nose against the glass as she watched them make it. Some small part of her balked at the sight of three huge scoops of ice cream and all the toppings, but she quieted it. She had a second shot at being a teenager, and that meant never taking her garbage disposal stomach and body made of rubber bands for granted ever again.

She hummed absently to herself, only to pause halfway through the tune. How did it go again? She tried repeating the first half, only to get stuck at the same spot. Oh, this was going to bug the crap out of her. It wasn’t like she could look it up, not when the song wouldn’t come out for almost ten years—

Her phone vibrated in her purse, and she checked it absentmindedly, zeroing in for a moment on the DAD displayed on the screen. After a moment, she put it back without answering. If it was that important, he could text.

Sure enough, her phone gave a short buzz. New text message—he hadn’t even bothered to leave a voicemail.

DADI need you to talk to your brother.

Angie checked her banana split’s progress with a glance, and replied.

lol why

DADHe’s not listening to me. We both know the courts favor the mother so if we’re going to beat her I need both of you on your A game.

Angie ground her teeth until her jaw creaked.

what do you need me to do

DADJust coach him on how to talk about her. You’re a smart lady, I know you can do it. He’s always getting scuffed up at practice, just have him say the bruises came from her. Throw in a drinking problem if you have to, just keep your stories straight.

why father dearest i’m surprised at youyou want me to lie under oath?

DADJust talk to him, will you? Keep your stories straight, don’t get too outlandish, and we’ll get out of this with everything we want. You’ll never have to hear the word no again, I promise.

ok daddy ill do my best!

DADGood girl. You’re the smartest girl I know. Smarter than your mom, smarter than her bitch lawyer. Love you!

“Order up!”

Angie brought her banana split to the table with the clearest view of the door. It took her a moment to decide how to begin, then nearly a full minute balancing equal parts ice cream, banana, and toppings in a single spoonful. She managed it in the end.

Mood lifted, she unlocked her phone again and made a call. “Heeeey, Anika.”

“Need I remind you that phone calls are billable,” her mother’s lawyer said dryly.

“Yeah, I’ll be quick, I have some incriminating text messages I think you’ll be interested in?”

The sound of rustling papers paused. “Go on…?”

“Dad just told me to lie to the judge,” Angie explained, twirling a thin ribbon of caramel around her spoon. “And to coach Eric to lie to the judge. I took screenshots.”

Anika cursed softly under her breath. “Thank you for telling me. Send them to your mom, okay? Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

The bell above the ice cream parlor door jingled, and Angie perked up as both Damian (Raph?) and Erin walked in. She waved them over, grinning when both pairs of eyes widened at her treat.

“That thing’s half the size of your head,” Erin pointed out.

“Sure is, you guys came just in time.” Angie nudged it across the table, along with the two extra spoons. “If we split it, I’ll have enough room for a milkshake chaser.”

“You’re a monster,” Damian said delightedly. “Oh shit, are those Heath bars?” He dug in without waiting for an answer.

“They’re peanut butter cups,” she said solemnly, once he’d taken a bite and could probably tell they weren’t. “I added them just to hurt you.” Damian rolled his eyes and dug his spoon back in.

Erin stared at her, probably still baffled by the gentle banter, but at least she looked more curious than infuriated, like instead of being suspicious she simply didn’t know what to make of Angie.

“So, you guys talked?” Angie asked carefully. “Are we… all good?”

“I think so,” Damian replied, shooting a cautious glance at Erin.

“You’re on thin ice,” Erin informed her as she helped herself to the chocolate scoop.

“Fair.” Angie didn’t remember Erin putting up quite as much of a fight, but then, it had been years when they’d reconnected before. This time around, it was still fresh.

“The ice cream helps,” Erin added, slightly muffled by the spoon in her mouth.

“Noted.” Angie paused, weighed her options, and shrugged. No harm no foul, probably. “Hey, you’re a musician, right?”

Erin swallowed. “Yeah, why?”

“And not just a performer, but you write music too, right?”

“Yeeaaah?” Erin squinted suspiciously. Beside her, Damian shot Angie a warning glare.

“If I give you half a tune, could you resolve it?”

Erin was staring at her like she’d grown a second head. “Probably.”

“Great!” Angie hummed the earworm from earlier. “How would the next part go?”

Erin repeated it to herself, nodding along. After a moment, she said, “Probably like—”

And sure enough, there it was. The rest of the chorus’s tune came rushing back to Angie’s memory, and she breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Thanks! That was driving me nuts.” Angie returned to her banana split, ignoring Damian’s growing scowl.

Later, when Erin was in the bathroom and  Angelique was standing in line to order her promised milkshake, Damian dug his elbow into her side. “You’re not as slick as you think you are,” he muttered.

“What?” Angie said innocently. “I didn’t give anything away.”

“You just taught her half the chorus of a song she’s eight years away from writing!”

“I’ve planted a seed,” Angie insisted. “I’ve created a stable time loop.”

“That is not what you did and you know it.” Damian pursed his lips, clearly trying to stay annoyed with her. “I barely avoided spoiling her transition, and that’s after she asked me to my face.”

Angie grinned. “So you haven’t told her she’s a genderfluid punk rocker yet?”

“No. Because she’s not a genderfluid punk rocker yet.”

“And now, when she becomes one,” Angie said with a smile, “she’s going to look back on this day and laugh.”

[filmologetica]

BEHAVIOR — dean winchester

pairing: dean winchester x f!reader.

the one where: you and dean are trying your hardest to have sex but everyone seems to be against it.

warnings: +18. kind of smutty, language, fingering, blue balls king. english is not my first language and it’s 2am here so it might have some incorrect english i plan on checking later.

a/n: this was… something. i’m thinking about a part 2, let me know if you want it <3.

Dean didn’t know if anyone had ever died from blue balls, but if not, he could easily be the first.

Two weeks. It has been two weeks now that Dean and his girlfriend were trying to get some alone time, but it seemed impossible. Every time someone had something they forgot in the room they were heavily making out in and took too long to head out, killing the mood completely, or something urgent to talk to them, or something that needed to be done. Every damn time. And when they finally had time at night they were exhausted, completely worn out.

The tension was growing between them and they just couldn’t help it. They fought for every stupid reason, everything seeing to be extremely frustrating.

“Did you get the milk I asked you to yesterday?” Y/N’s voice was low. She was tired, frustrated and horny. More than that, she was fucking angry with the life she chose. Walking back to back killing monsters was fucking exhausting. She needed a break.

Everyday something new was getting on her nerves. Ghosts, demons, angels and even Lucifer himself. Jesus Christ, she had no more patience for anything.

“Shit, I forgot. Sorry, babe.” Dean was just as exhausted as her, but he was used to this life. What he was not used to was spending fourteen long days with zero sex.

Zero intimacy. Not even a lazy handjob. Of course he could take care of himself but once he was in a relationship - or sort of - he needed to be deep in the woman he craved. And oh, boy, he was craving her. Everything was enough to make his dick wake up and twitch inside his pants.

Every.

Single.

Thing

made him end up with a boner that he wished you would take care of but there was always something in the way.

Fourteen days. And counting.

“Fucking hell, Dean. Is it too much to ask for you to pay attention to the things I tell you?” You snapped, slamming your mug to the counter.

Sam looked up, rolling his eyes knowing very well you two were about to start another pointless argument. Dean wasn’t exactly helping his situation either, as he raised his voice. “If I pay attention to every single thing you talk about every day, there goes my whole day. You never shut up.”

“I’m really sorry. I forgot the only woman you’re capable of listening to are the stupid whores you fuck at every bar we step into.”

“Yeah, at least I can fuck them.”

“Fuck you, Dean.” Your mug was now forgotten in the counter as you marched out of the kitchen, your face red with anger. You knew Dean didn’t mean it. It has been like this for days now, just pointless arguments about nothing.

“Dude, just- Go talk to her.” It was almost like Sam was stuck in a loop all over again. That’s how he felt. He had now lost count of how many times he had said this exact same thing, the exact same way. “I’ll go buy the fucking milk.”

Sam had no idea what was happening. Your relationship with Dean was a secret and that was a deal that you both made until you figured out what it was. Of course sleeping together every night wasn’t exactly nothing but you agreed in taking things slow.

Dean entered your room without even knocking, closing the door behind him with a kick. “I can’t take it anymore, Y/N.” He sighed, letting his body fall in your bed. “I don’t want to keep fighting, I’m sorry. You know I listen to you, it’s just- It’s been too much.”

“It’s ok. I’m sorry about what I said. I just-” Dean looked at her, knowing exactly what she would say. “I miss you.”

“Yeah?” Tracing an invisible line at her exposed leg, Dean was taking his time feeling how soft her skin was.

“Yeah.”

“Mhmm.” His hand was now not so innocent, getting to her thighs still gently. The touch enough to make her shiver. “What are you missing?”

Opening her legs, Y/N exposed her delicate lingerie. It was red, and Dean could feel his mouth water with the sight. Her tiny lace panties were now making him rock hard. He could see your pussy clearly and he was ready to show you how much he missed it. “I miss you right here.” Your hands entered the fabric, touching your clit gently.

“God, I love it when you act like a cock slut.” Lifting your dress a little more, Dean was taking up the view. You never needed much to make him hard, but this was a whole different level. It was like he was drunk on your smell.

“I love it when you fuck me with your fingers.” You said and Dean now moved the fabric to the side, to get a clearer view, chewing on his bottom lip. “It feels so good when you ease me up with one finger because I’m so fucking tight for you…”

And just to make Dean lose his mind, you add one finger to your drabbling pussy. It took to much of him to not roll his eyes and come undone without even taking off his pants. “And when you add another one… God, feels so good, baby.” One more finger in, another growl from Dean out.

“I’m going to fuck you good. Make you remember what it feels like when I’m filling you up.” With your most innocent face you nodded, more like begging Dean to fuck you.

When you felt his lips on yours in an urgent kiss, it felt like you were dreaming. His tongue sliding into your mouth roughly while you ran your fingers through his hair desperately. Now, he was on top of you and you could feel his bulge.

You could feel his cock while his hips trusted into you trying to make him feel better even with his clothes still on. When your hand found his boner, using enough pressure on it, Dean moaned into your lips. “Fuck. I need to be inside you.”

And just when his hands found his belt, a knock was heard on the door. “No!” You cried.

Dean sighed, absolutely frustrated and hiding his face on the crook of your neck. “We can pretend there’s no one here. We put a pillow on your face and you make no sounds while I fuck you.”

You let out a quiet laugh, just as frustrated. “What if it’s important?”

“Y/N, this is important!” Dean was furious. Who wouldn’t be? He refused to add one more day to his blue balls count.

“Open up, guys!” Sam said loudly on the other side of the door.

“What the fuck does this guy want?” Dean got up while you adjusted your dress, trying your best to fix your hair quickly. “Yeah, Sam?”

As Dean opened the door, his face was definitely not friendly but it didn’t scare Sam, who entered the room and sat on the bed.

The bed you thought you were having sex seconds before. “We need to talk about your behavior.” He says.

“My what?” You ask and Dean rolls his eyes, thinking about hitting his head on the door a billion times to end his penalty.

“We’re gonna talk about what’s happening between you and Dean and solve this problem right now.”

“I don’t think that’s something you can fix, Sammy.” You wish you could punch him.

“Well, then I’m not leaving this room.”

And with that, Dean left to take a cold shower in his room after being cockblocked by Sam once again.

[watchyourbuck]

The thing about Tommy is that he’s very pretty. Everything about him is intoxicatingly attractive, and no matter where they go, people follow. Men, particularly.

Buck isn’t necessarily the jealous type. He’s had his fair share of protecting ex girlfriends from creeps and dudes who won’t back off, but this is different. This feels like a constant, extremely symptomatic migraine.

Of course girls throw themselves at him, but the mere fact that they have no chance makes it less angering. It’s the studs, and the twinks, and the huge men who put their hands on his man. That cup his ass almost as a greeting gesture. That play with his hair, and whisper in his ear.

And Tommy isn’t stupid. He knows he’s being flirted with, but since he could never have eyes for anyone who isn’t Buck, he doesn’t see the need to be rude. So he keeps it at ‘No, thank you’’s, and polite, refusing smiles. And yes, that’s yet another one of the qualities Buck loves about him. Because he doesn’t like violence. But then again, it fires up the unwavering possessiveness brewing in the pit of his stomach.

So Buck’s gotten creative. Now that they’re officially a couple, and go out on dates every weekend — to different places, if he might add —, he’s had to get handy with the way he lets people know Tommy’s his.

He orders with him at the bar, makes sure to say ‘my boyfriend’ and strategically places his hands on parts of Tommy’s body that would get him punched if they weren’t together. It works, for the most part.

But there’s always that one guy who can’t take a hint.

“You’re like a Greek god,” he whispers and Buck rolls his eyes. “Greek gods shouldn’t be alone.”

It’s a twenty-something year old dude that looks like he’s missing a college class. He’s wearing a tank top and eyeliner and he’s about a second away from earning himself all of Buck’s un-contained rage.

“I’m not alone,” Tommy says, pointing at him, and god bless his heart. “This is my partner.”

Buck bends forward a bit to wave enthusiastically, but it comes out bitchy. He’s almost sorry but then the guy barely acknowledges him, putting his hand on Tommy’s shoulder and rubbing circles on the exposed skin. Tommy’s hand tightens on his hip, keeping him still.

“You know, I’m very flexible,” the guy says and Buck is currently making a deal with god to grant him patience. “I could show you just how much.”

“Oh, you’re not showing him anything,” Buck barks, right from over Tommy’s head. If he has to get on his tippy toes to do that, well, the other guy doesn’t have to know.

“Evan,” Tommy warns, but it’s endearing, it carries no threat. He turns his head to the kid and tilts it. “You should find a guy who’s interested. I’m not.”

Buck absolutely preens, a cocky smirk settling on his face. He’s about to claim victory when he notices the guy’s demeanor doesn’t change, and he actually steps closer. “That’s because you don’t know what you’re missing, daddy.”

Nope. A surge of something primal and almost maniac courses through his body, and before Tommy can do anything about it, Buck’s rounding him and taking the guy’s wrist and squeezing it. He’s shorter than Tommy but significantly bigger than this kid, so he towers over him easily. “Take your hands off him if you want to keep them.”

The kid’s face contorts in fear. “What’s your problem, dude!”

Buck laughs, his only point of connection to reality being Tommy’s hand on his belt loops, holding him in place. “My problem,” he says, his voice deeper, “is that you can’t seem to take no for an answer. He’s told you he’s not alone. So, back off before I make you.”

His eyes shift from Buck’s to Tommy’s, who Buck can only guess has a soft but unreadable expression on his face. When the kid isn’t defended by Tommy, he snags his hand back, scoffs and takes off.

Buck watches him until he loses him to the crowd, then lets out a big breath, closing his eyes momentarily. He turns to Tommy, expecting to find judgy or at least annoyed eyes. He doesn’t.

“Not that I wanna encourage you,” Tommy says, sitting on a stool to pull Buck closer, right between his legs. “But that was really hot.”

Buck huffs out a laugh but it’s vaguely one. “I’m just— he wouldn’t stop touching you. You’re, ugh, you’re—!”

Tommy tilts his head, chasing after Buck’s gaze when he looks to the side. “You can say it.”

Buck bites his lip and stares. How could he not, after all. “You’re mine,” de declares, definitive and on the verge of angry. “And I don’t like men touching what’s mine.”

And he knows. There’s a fine line between sexy possessive and psychopathically controlling, and he’s walking it like a rope between two buildings, but the look on Tommy’s face and the unmistakable sight of the front of his pants growing tighter doesn’t help him get off the high horse. “We can always make a scene,” Tommy shrugs, getting up again and cornering Buck against the bar.

Buck’s eyes darken, even through the pain on his tailbone. His arms surge forward to wrap around Tommy’s neck and bring him down. And if they do make a scene, if they do make out messily and desperately for everyone to see, then it’s truly not his problem what they think. As long as they know who Tommy belongs to.

[thatonebabybat]

Being Masc & Goth

This blog usually isn't fashion-focused, but I was thinking about alt fashion and how it's sometimes a struggle to figure out how to style things in a masc way if you're interested in darkalt fashion, but you don't want to go too casual or basic with it. So I thought I'd throw together some tips, link some DIYs, and maybe throw in a few moodboards. I want to preface this with one thing: You do NOT have to adhere to traditional gender roles. Fuck anyone who tells you that you do. If you're a guy and you want to get into alt fashion don't let anyone tell you that you can't pull off a skirt or a dress or a strappy top. Literally the whole point of being alt is Doing Whatever The Hell You Want Forever. However, not everyone feels comfortable in that (I made this post because I'm transmasc and sometimes the long gothic dresses make me dysphoric), and not everyone is safe to do that ( as much as it sucks ass, if you live in a conservative area sometimes it can be genuinely dangerous for guys to wear makeup and dresses in public, and your safety should always come first), so I thought I'd lay out some tips on how to dress alt and masc from my own experience. I'm still learning so feel free to leave your own advice in the replies or reblogs! General Styling Tips: - Jackets. Jackets, jackets, jackets. Something about a big jacket always seems to give an outfit a more masc energy, and adding a cool jacket to an outfit can be a great way to elevate it and add some extra visual interest. I like black blazers, leather jackets, and black denim jackets in particular, but vests (formal menswear ones or more casual denim or leather ones) can work well too, especially in hot weather. - Any basic black pair of jeans will look 100x more alt if you loosely attach some chains to the pockets or belt loops. Also, pants with wider legs tend to look more masc than tighter fits. not sure why. Slacks can also be a really good and underrated option. - If you want to find good headwear, cool sunglasses have never failed me. You may be able to take some inspiration from Ouji fashion as well, but that's just my personal taste. - If you have a basic piece around, you can add pins, patches, safety pins, etc for a more casual look, or if you're going for something more formal, trims and lace details and embroidery can really add interest and elegance to it. (if you can't sew, you can order iron-on embroidered patches online or find them in craft stores that'll do the trick just fine.) This can take your pair of slacks or plain black blazer and turn it into a piece of formal gothic menswear you can make a staple of your wardrobe. - Find inspiration in your favorite goth artists. There's a lot of really cool goth music out there and a lot of those bands get really innovative with their looks! Figure out what you like about their style and try incorporating a few things in, it's fun! - If you have an alt wardrobe already but it just seems like something's missing or it could use some interest, try switching up the silhouettes or adding an extra layer! Seriously, don't be scared of playing with textures and sleeve shapes! I see a lot of dudes who just wear a band tee and a pair of jeans all the time, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that, that can be a great look! But I think a lot of dudes just genuinely think that that's their only option and that everything else just "wasn't made for them" and that makes me a little sad. shred up some shirts and layer them, wear some bell sleeves, throw some extra safety pins or studs on, have fun! No one said masc fashion couldn't be fun. Unisex/Masc DIY Videos I Found:

... And Some Inspiration!

[These are all goth music artists, I wrote the band/artist names in small text on the images that were not already watermarked for those who are curious]

[wanna-be-jock]

Partners and Muscle Growth

How the hell am I meant to subtly let the guy I'm interested in know I have a muscle growth kink. Like hey dude, you're really sweet and cute, wanna start hitting the gym with me? I know how much you love 'casually' glancing at my arms, so why not put a little meat on your own? Wouldn't that be hot bro. Picture it.

I'll take you through everything, show you the proper form, see where your strength it at. And push you beyond it. If I see you faulter, I'll take my turn. Nothing to keep you motived like seeing my form blowing up with a sick pump. Hell, I'll even let you suck me off on the bench press, we gotta get that protein in ya. And If I think you put real effort in and you're too tired to move, I'll tell you what a good job you did and how proud i am, as I'm dumping my loads in you in the showers. Don't think anyone will mind, half those guys are just waiting to see you blow up anyway.

Think about all those gains ya'll make bro. Seeing your arms steadily growing as the weeks go by. Your brain getting hooked on the pump. That feeling of accomplishment of a good hard session. That tingle in your jock when all those hunks eyes linger longer and longer, as you beginning to fill out and stretch your cute little nerdy shirts.

Before you know it, your appreciation of my muscles will become an obsession with your own. You'll find yourself feeling them up, be it in the gym, with me, alone or in public. Nothing beats loving the way I'm making your body change and showing it off, making sure everyone sees your progress. All that extra testosterone in you will probably make you an even hornier then before. My 'motivations' certainly won't help that, gym session ending in sexual gratification. It start once you finally notice you've stopped wearing sleaves, walking around with a constant semi seeing all the new definition. Then you'll give up on shirts entirely, and there won't be a single reflective surface you haven't had a flex session infront of, getting off to your own masculinity.

Then it'll finally hit you. Seeing that form of yourself, an unrecognisable hunk to the skinny wimp you once were. Your new muscles making you cocky and arrogant, arrogance getting you more and more attention, the attention making you want to get bigger muscles. An endless loop of exercising, flexing, growing, and fucking. Your mind clogged with nothing more than thoughts of pumping iron and dick. You'll be unable to stop yourself for seeing your once friends and picturing how hot it would be if they started to blowing up with muscle too, inspired by your confidence and growth. Thoughts of life before replaced with routine and working out. You'll be nothing more than my bulked up sex-obsessed dumb jock, with an insatiable need to make yourself bigger and suck cock, and loving every second of it.

Like, wouldn't that be hot dude?

[love-belle]

i want sweet revenge and i want him again !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their post break-up era is them ignoring their feelings and making the worst decisions.

or

for when they will always be your summer love. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // pierre gasly x fem!reader

sequel - you were my summer love ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings - language

author's note - posting this at 3am bc i have midterms from monday and it's very unlikely i'll post again this month 💔💔💔💔 i love u all so much thank u for reading <3

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liked by gracieabrams, charles_leclerc, conangray and 789,725 others

yourusername "get him back!" is finally out!!!! i wrote this song in my car after breaking down over the consequences of my own actions and getting yelled at by my twitter girlies <3 summer was fun i had fun we all had fun but the aftermath is not pretty so fuck them boys u all stay happy and thriving hydrated!!!! get ur sweet revenge and get him back!!!!! but fr pls tell his mom her son sucks ❤️

8,628 comments

username there's too much going on idk what to decipher first

username the caption omg 💀💀💀

username her captions never fail to blow me away like girl 90% of these things do not belong here 😭😭😭😭😭

username not her telling us to get our man back but also tell his mom that her son sucks

-> username top tier advice idc

username THE SONG'S A FUCKING BOP OMG

username those lyrics are so her and him coded like 💔💔💔💔💔

charles_leclerc don't call me weird

-> yourusername this is so unprovoked get out

-> username nah what the fuck is charles doing here 😭😭😭😭

-> username CHARLES????

username "bc everyone knew the guy was missing a screw" BABE LET HIM GO!!!!!!!!

username THE TEXT OH MY GOD

username i miss her and that dude ngl

-> username no bc they were so cute together 💔💔💔

-> username why do men ruin everything 😐😐😐😐😐

username "i can fix him" GIRL YOU ARE WORSE THAN HIM

-> yourusername UNCALLED FOR

username i fucking love her and her fans so much like the way we're all js best friends with her and she's sooooo in touch with her fans ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

-> yourusername not true u all js bully me

-> username bc u make stupid decisions

-> yourusername ://

username y/n having beef with 80% of her fans will never not be funny to me like wdym ur FANS bully u

-> yourusername i have proof and im not afraid to use it

-> username "proof" and it's literally just her being a dumbass and us having NORMAL reactions to it

-> yourusername FURTHER PROOF UR HONOUR

username so MUCH for summer LOVE and saying US cause u weren't mine to LOSEEEE

username this is sooo 2000s romcom coded idc

landonorris WEIRD??? ME???

-> yourusername GET OUT OF MY COMMENTS SECTION THIS ISN'T ABT Y'ALL

-> username what the fuck is doing on

-> username im so out of loop wtfff

username "i want sweet revenge and i want him again" unhinged behaviour fr

username every time we think she's healing she comes back and writes a song that's basically a BIG cry for help like girl pls we're getting tired 💔

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paddock.club rumours have been swirling around pierre gasly and his anonymous girlfriend, who's affectionately called 'augustine' by his fans, and their alleged break-up for weeks now. the said rumours were confirmed as gasly was seen out in monaco and he certainly wasn't alone — or with just one consistent company. "this may confuse some people but they were very different from each other," sources close to the couple claimed. "after summer break ended, it felt like so did whatever they had going on." this comes as a shock as despite knowing almost nothing about augustine, fans adored her and they're devasted about the end of their summer love. click on the link in our bio for everything that we know about their relationship.

comments are disabled for this post

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pierregasly you're trippin'

9,638 comments

username NAH THE AUDACITY OF M*N SOMETIMES

username BROTHER IM STILL RECOVERING FROM THE AUGUSTINE REVEAL SLOW DOWN

username HELLO???????? HE'S SEEING SOMEONE???????

-> username "he said i was the only girl but that js wasn't the truth"

username the fact that he used HER lyrics for his caption like..........im SICK rn

username when 😭 i 😭 told 😭 him 😭 how 😭 he 😭 hurt 😭 me 😭 he 😭 told 😭 me 😭 i 😭 was 😭 trippin 😭

username im actually in shock rn like my jaw is on the FLOOR

landonorris caption 😬

username no bc im here thinking like she called his friends weird 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 that's why charles and lando were so offended in the comments 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

username boy she's over there listening to summer love by one direction WHAT R U DOING

username that's not y/n in the last slide and im throwing up rn i need them BACK

username need this all to be a nightmare bc i cannot fucking do this anymore 💔💔💔💔

username it's on SIGHT when i see u on streets

username im so 💔💔💔💔💔

username y'all i feel bad for bullying y/n bc if i were her i too wouldn't move on from this man

-> username fr like we gave her sm shit for being in love with him and im like "girlypop same omg"

-> username real like i see what she saw

charles_leclerc nice choice for caption 👍 very strong words 👍

username here for charles and lando calling him out for the caption like yasss kings ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ do ur work ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

username y/n needs to be more cunty rn bc this is so wtf

username L caption 🤣🤣🤣🤣🫵🫵🫵🫵

username im gonna miss their summer love era so much like we were FED ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

username "and when he said something wrong he'd just fly me to france" WOW OKAYYYY

username something about his last post before this being all about augustine and their summer and now this one is basically shading her like 💔💔💔💔💔

username everyday we stray further away from good

username ripping my hair out why cant bitches be happy ffs

[ouchthathurts]

❝ 𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤. ❞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐬) ⋮ Daisuke x AFAB! Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⋮ 3.5k

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 ⋮ 1 | 2 |

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⋮ Captains know best!

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⋮ Cross-Posted on AO3 | Vomit Mentioned | Jimmy-Centered

𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 ⋮ Sorry for the delay! Advisement and Finals are coming ups I'm fixing up the schedule to accommodate writing as well!

There’s tension in the room, it’s thick, rough to spread on toast and forced down your throat to make sure you know that you had fucked this up. Of course, Daisuke would be here–But why Daisuke? The rare updates your mother gave was that he really did nothing after high school, enrolled into college undeclared as he just partied his way through the first and second semester.

“No amount of money could get that boy into a good school.” Your mother sighed in relief, “Good riddance.” You had done well, well in your mother eyes since you could’ve done “one more extracurricular’ or ‘been involved in more organizations’ nonetheless, you secured your spot at her dream college and took it seriously in fear she’d kick out her child.

You know, you hadn’t taken the chance to notice how Daisuke had grown, changed in some ways with the faded blond hair dye on the ends of his hair–When did he start curling his hair? When did he dye it blond? What made him start wearing concealer around his eyes? There’re these subtleties you may have not noticed before, were they always there and you were always just that neglectful of him? Disappointed in yourself as a friend you wave to him, and when his eyes finally hit you, it almost drops like a dead body. There’s a way his eyes fall, it almost guts you in a way where he perfectly places his hands on the most sensitive parts. It’s the way he knows you inside out, he doesn’t even need to say anything to you, the look in his chestnut eyes that held everything back in them to not burst into tears. “Alright, Daisuke, that’s enough getting familiar with the crew.” Jimmy speaks, it’s a man you remembered having straight brown hair slicked into a midpart, brown eyes, and stubble. The scraggle under his chin made you cringe, praying that if he got closer there wouldn’t be something ghastly awaiting you. All of you wore the Pony Express jumpsuit, except Swansea and Daisuke who just wore the shirt and jeans with Daisuke adding on a top, you’re not surprised since Daisuke would add anything to the uniform to make sure he was authentic even in the little ways like a feather earring or multicolored rubber band bracelets. 

You began to play with the one under the sleeve of your jumpsuit, your fingers turning into pluck at your wrist was the one Daisuke had made for you back in elementary school, it had his and your favorite color alternating every two loops. 

“Oh! My! God!” You let out the most obnoxious gasp, it causes him to giggle, and you smirk to yourself knowing all the right buttons to push, there’s a big grin on his face as he slips it on your wrist, and you look down at it to see his wrist falling next to yours to reveal the same bracelet. “Do you like love it?” You snicker at his phrasing, “Dude, I like love it, man.” You mock him, he brings his shoulder to yours to shove it, and the two of you share a smile with glazed over eyes.

How do you even face him? Ways to talk to him, but your biggest fear is talking to him specifically. Everybody boarding this ship seems fine, or at least as good as any other crew could be to be honest with you, since you know it is like your first time. You're looking at a little longer than you should. Like Curly? I mean, you think he's good looking? It's the same blond that Daisuke wanted to do at one point, he was charismatic like how Daisuke was when you first met him, and his hand shake his firm but you long for the wiggle in his wrist Daisuke had.

Holy shit, what do you even do in this situation?

What do you even say to him? “Hey, I'm sorry for leaving you after all this time.” “My bad for abandoning you.” “I'm scared shitless at my mom.” Can you even use your mom as an excuse anymore? Is she even really that scary in the first place or were you just pussying out? All the time where you’ve defended him and all the times he's defended you–Why was you even arguing for him if you just ended up leaving him in the end? 

Soon you were met with the Co-captain again. You want to lie to yourself about your situation, that being on a ship is cool and being trained to fly it sounds even more amazing but Good God, you could not stand to be around Jimmy for longer than you needed to. 

Honestly, you were very much distraught to find out that you were being stuck with Jimmy. “Since as Captain I'll be a bit busier, I won't be able to be as active as I'd like to be in training. Jimmy’s been a good hand, he's strong willed, eager, and is a good companion to have on the ship.”

You have to shadow him?

In some place in your heart, you know that he hates it just as much as you do. Just meeting him for the first time made him just look at you like lesser, was it because you added your own accessories to your uniform or the fact you put effort into your appearance? Handshake from Jimmy killed something in you because of how he did it, why was his hand so clammy? Why couldn’t he smell better? How come anytime that you talk to him you feel this disgusting older mess inside you like you're the one fucking up all the time? You hope and pray that this isn't all the time you'll spend on the Tuplar.

Upon loading all necessary items, you all make your accession, there's not really a lot to do on the Tuplar, unfortunately there's never anything to do here besides put all your stuff into your room and pray for the best. “Let's go.” Jimmy says your name like a sergeant, it's clear he treats you as a boot licker and now here you were running your tongue against the heel, “Yes, sir.”

Your first thing when it comes to the Tuplar is how the hell a ship can even run this long, you remember the information your mother gave you about how this is the last human ran delivery service, you think back on it and hate it even more as you remember you're really just stuck with these people for around a year or two. 

You needed to make the best of it.

Whoever would be writing your recommendation letter Whether that Curly, or even Jimmy. You make sure that you did your absolute best. Now the biggest problem with being around Jimmy all the time is being around Jimmy all the time. You tried to find good things about him. For instance, he told you on the first day, “You're very diligent, I'm grateful for it.” It was nice to hear it, you began to look forward to it throughout the day like the people pleaser you were, spineless against Jimmy like you were to your mother.

There was also the fact that he would teach you stuff, he always made sure to be open with you and never bullshit you on what you wanted to know. There was a clear inferiority complex though. Anytime the two of you bumped into Curly there was a clear pedestal that Jimmy put him on, it was exhausting to hear him talk about how Curly got him this job and how grateful he was and how much good Curly did on this ship.

It got even more awkward one day, though. It was most likely around the later time this week that you were working alongside Jimmy and Curly happened to show up. Now in your defense, you really didn't know the two like that, Curley decided to make a joke about Jimmy, basically along the lines of how Jimmy might be a 'Negative Nancy' and it was all in good fun.

Unbeknownst to you, Curly would definitely be talking to you about Jimmy was in the first place. Jimmy was definitely a character and honestly, it was very hard to even find the time to be around him, even though you were forced to be around him a majority of the time. Nonetheless, Jimmy was definitely not supposed to hear what Curly and you had discussed because you were giving your most honest opinion about Jimmy given the week you two had spent together.

“He’s just always weird, to me, all the time.” Curly raised a brow, “Weird as in?”  “At first, I felt special? Like all he was doing is just making me think that there was a chance to be better.” Then you let out a groan, you think back on what he says, and you continue on with your discussion, “It was this sick cycle, he’d compliment me, then he’d backhand me with a little thing, 

‘You could’ve been better.’ ‘You could’ve not missed it.’ ‘Do you even know how to maneuver?’ ‘I guess you’re not as diligent as I thought.’”  You sit there and look at Curly, and Curly look back at you with sympathy. “Well, why the fuck am I even trying then?” Curly flinches at your language but does nothing to halt your rant, especially when his eyes flicker above you then back to yours, he’s grateful you don’t notice.

“What the fuck am I gaining? If all it amounts to him just pulling the rug beneath my feet to see if I’ll float for him. It's ridiculous. I'm trying so much to please him and make sure I'm doing all right and that I meet his standards so I can do good in college, and I'm sitting here being bent over backwards and turned inside out for this absolute buffoon.” There’s another groan that earns his way out of you, “And his tone, it's so condescending. He never ever tries to think about anything that somebody else is doing. It's always about him, him, him, him. As if I have nothing else to do with my life. What if I want to go play games with Anya and Daisuke?”

Curly’s eyes aren’t even on you anymore, he’s looking to your left, and in return you follow his eyes. Guess that maybe it's just the way it's supposed to be? You don't say anything though You're terrified of even trying to go against either or so you sit there, and you stay silent. I mean what could you even say in the first place, “Jimmy…” You’re distraught that Curly didn’t tell you sooner, you don’t blame him, and Curly doesn’t correct you on it.

“So, do you have a problem with me? If you really have a problem with me while I’m on this ship, why work under me? Why do this? If you absolutely have nothing else to offer besides complaining the whole time, all you do is complain, complain, complain about what? About how I teach you? Mainly, it's because of how unattached you are to this. You never care for anything; you never sit there and think twice. You always sit there and think you're a know it all and think you know everything from A-Z. Unfortunately, you don't and I'm so sorry that you're hurt, that I know more than you and that you feel hurt or put on and I'm oh so sorry that you feel that way.”

The way Jimmy talked to you really pissed you off. Honestly, you were about 5 seconds away from beating his arse. Nonetheless though, you held back all that rage that you had pent up and thought about what you should do. He was apologizing for your feelings as if you are feeling the way you felt was absolutely the wrong way to feel and that you are not allowed to feel emotions in the first place about what he does as if his. As his actions don't have consequences. You want to say something and as much as you really want to fight against him.

You sit there, you take a breath in, and you apologize. 

“I’m sorry, Jimmy. I should've communicated better. You're actually a really good co-captain, Jimmy.” There's a look in his eyes that tells you majorly messed up he looks back to you with this glaring expression but a crooked little grin on his face that tells you differently, he'll turn his body to you slowly and you look to him with a wobbly smile, your foundation being nothing but the fear you have in his face.

“It doesn't really matter what you think, does it? At the end of the day, I'm co-captain and Curly is captain, not the other way around. Don't need you feeling bad for me especially when I know you'd rather be with Curly.” You're lost for words, what do you even say after something like this? You can try and be nice and tell him that's not true but what are you even gaining from that at this point?

No Curly is just awkwardly standing there, unable to really do or say anything he tells the booth of you. “Maybe you guys should work it out amongst yourselves, you guys are mature and like-minded adults.” That was his cue to leave. You're distraught by this, but not surprised, unfortunately, given that he didn't even tell you about Jimmy being next to you. You wonder how long Jimmy was actually there next to you before Curly was going to say anything, if he was going to say anything at all...

After Curly makes his way out of the hallway, you were left alone with Jimmy, and you try to start up the conversation. “Well,-” The way Jimmy barks out a laugh causing him to spit on your face made you wince at the scene, “Well, Well what? Well, you suck at your job? Well, flattery will get you nowhere. Well, what do you even plan on doing after this excursion? Well, what do you even study in college? Well, do you even think you'll return for the next time? Well? Well?” With each phrase he got closer, and closer, and closer.

“Here and play around on this ship as if we're all doing these little dumb reindeer games to come and sit here and bullshitting around. I didn't know you were like Daisuke, and you have a little family going home to support you while you go through college, and I definitely didn’t know you wanted to hang out with the nurse who barely qualified for the position. I didn't know that you were so spoiled in lavish that you thought you could sit here and play around. You didn't want to learn anything, you just thought this was going to be a fun little hang out time. But this is real shit. We're doing real things.” 

It didn't help that he had just eased you into one of the closets, it's small with shelves lined with miscellaneous items. It was cramp, you're cornered by this absolute unit that was most definitely trying to intimidate you. You don't even know what to do at this point. You look in his eyes and even while you're trying to hold your ground you feel like your knees are going to buckle in. 

You stare at Jimmy, and he doesn't even see you, you're just another person who needs to know his place on the ship. Below Curly but above you. It was never explicitly said, and you don't know if you could ever really get it out of him, but you knew that this was just him making sure he knew you knew. You kept staring though and even as his face got closer and closer you couldn't even fathom how you would even get out of this.

“Well, what?” You see yourself in his reflection and there's nothing more humiliating than knowing how weak you look in front of somebody. It's almost petrifying how much you're realizing that you're stuck here, and you will be stuck here for as long as he wants you to be. 

“Well?” You sigh, “I’m sorry, Jimmy, I was just speaking my mind.” He doesn't even look at you, his eyes flicker up and they flicker back down at you with no type of change to emotion. “I didn't decide to have a person work alongside me and be around me this whole time just for them to speak their feelings I don't want you to speak your feelings I don't need you to speak your feelings I don't want to hear you speak your feelings You're here for one thing and one thing only follow my orders and if you can't do that then I don't even know why you even bother to show up.” 

“You didn't even decide to have me as your intern…” 

You shouldn't have said that and in those seconds you didn't even realize it you were being snatched up, it was quick both of his hands already pinning you both by the sides of your shoulders you weren't surprised that he was able to just immediately grab your forearms and yank you over to him with his face even more knotted up in anger than before. “I'm sorry, I didn't hear you, follower. What did you say?” Your breath hitches at the feel of coarse hands squishing your flesh without a care, “I said,” You think, you think some more, and you come to your conclusion.

“I said, you didn't even decide to have me as your intern, you only have me shadowing you because you're not as important as Curly.” The way his grip tightened was something you expected, and you prayed that the bruises on your arms wouldn't be too bad as you felt yourself being run through a compressor, that was until someone knocked on the door. Jimmy whips his head around to see who it is, “Who is it?” 

“Oh!” No, fucking, way. “Hey, Jiiiiimmy, right? I heard F/N’s voice in there and I was gonna ask if I could come in and get some stuff cause Swansea sent me…” Your eyes widen and you almost cry out in relief, “Daisuke? Yeah, I'm in here!” The look shot back at you almost gave you whiplash, quickly putting your head down in embarrassment as you were met with Jimmy's angered expression in your face. “We're coming out right now.”

There's an awkwardness in the air more than there was before but for a different reason. Upon getting out the closet you're met with Daisuke, You weren't the first to leave in fact as Jimmy was already standing there with his harm's crossed looking at Daisuke dismissively, there is a glare in his eyes that Daisuke had read as Jimmy being upset about being interrupted and you being embarrassed about being caught. Embarrassment was correct. You were absolutely floored by the fact that Daisuke had found you with Jimmy alone in a closet. It almost killed you to see the expression on his face upon leaving the enclosed area.

“Soooooooo, what were you guys doin’ in there?” Only Daisuke would ask such a question, and you admired him for such boldness and confidence you'd never lost it in those years, and he even glowed more with him being met with such a sight, you don't think he cares, and you do think maybe he thinks you moved on. It kills you to look at him, there's no obvious hurt in his face but Daisuke has always been someone that's displayed effortless suave. 

Jimmy was quick to speak, “Nothin’ you need to worry about, Daisuke, just getting to know my intern a little better.” There's a cheeriness to his expression It's obvious of what he's doing, and you can't even say anything without not wanting to be put into that situation once more. You argue with yourself again, You could defend yourself and tell Daisuke that Jimmy was being a total asshole to you, and you needed help and you were so glad that he was able to help you or you could do what you were best at and that was going along with it.

“Yeah,”

Just like you always did. 

“Ohhhhhhh, I see.” Daisuke lets out a warm laugh, too warm of a laugh, even as he's almost joking about it in a way that seemed like him and Jimmy were close, “Anywhosies, I'm going to take this stuff to Swansea. I'll see you guys around! Have fun getting to know each other!” You wish that your innards were churned into chum then regurgitated onto Jimmy. You turn to look at Jimmy, you think about what Daisuke thought about finding you two in the closet, once Daisuke was finally out of view, you promptly vomited onto Jimmy.

Those liquid would for sure stain his uniform and the chunks made a disgusting plan into the floor after you then clutched your stomach. You groaned, unfortunately for Jimmy, he took you to the nurse station. 

©ouchthathurts please don't translate, claim as yours, redistribute and/or plagiarize in any way. likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[warping-realities]

Brotherhood - A βΓΦ Story

This story was made with the approval of the absolutely fantastic @johnbrand and takes place in the universe he created in Catch (βΓΦ), which I totally recommend everyone read before diving into this one. Not just to make this one easier to read, but because he’s a really damn good writer!

“I could chill here all day doing this with you,” said the skinny eighteen-year-old with light brown hair, rocking a navy blue polo tucked into perfectly pressed khaki shorts while he kissed a shirtless ginger wearing nothing but sweatpants.

“Gavin, this is the first sign of acknowledgment your brother has shown in over two months since you’ve been at the same college as him. You gotta go.”

“Then come with me, Pat! It'll be way easier to face Trenton with you by my side!”

“Hell no, I’m not getting myself stuck at one of those frat parties voluntarily!”

“And you still wanna drag me along!”

“Babe, I was just kidding! If necessary, I’ll go over there, but I think it should be a moment just for you and your brother!”

“Fine! But don’t think I’ll be hanging around for long!”

…..

“What a damn party, Mr. President!” praised the handsome dude close to twenty, with light brown hair and a muscular build, rocking a light blue shirt and summer shorts.

“Thanks, bro, but I gotta say I’m bummed my special guest hasn’t shown up yet,” replied the slightly older blonde dude, just as jacked, wearing a white shirt and pristine white shorts.

“Special guest? Looks like everyone’s here…”

“Oh, but this is a super special guest, Trent. Someone I think should’ve been introduced to our fraternity a long time ago, but, you know, my own recruitment chairman hasn’t brought him to me.”

“I’m your recruitment chairman. What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about your brother, of course! Why the hell didn’t you bring him to us?”

“I… I… it’s because… how do you know about Gavin?”

“That doesn’t answer my question, Trenton.” said the blonde guy. “Did you really think you could hide this from me? Although the real question is, why?”

“Prez… you gotta understand Gavin isn’t like us… he’s not fraternity material…”

“Trent, he’s your brother, he’s got the same potential as you.”

“Sorry to disagree, but no. I’m the odd one in my family, my dad and my brother… dude, you’ll see. But honestly, you look way more like my brother than he does, Chance.”

“Thanks, bro, makes me wanna almost forgive you for keeping stuff from me. And I forget you’re still out of the loop on everything…”

“Out of the loop on what?”

“You’ll find out soon… oh look who’s coming! I knew someone who is your brother would have some guts.” Chance grinned, pointing to the young guy approaching. Gavin looked pretty uncomfortable but walked into their territory with his head held high and a defiant look. “Why don’t you go greet him, bro?”

“Alright, but honestly, I don’t see this conversation going anywhere.” Trent replied, a bit annoyed, as he walked toward his brother. “What the hell are you doing here, Gavin?”

“Good morning to you too, brother. And you’re the one who sent me that message on Instagram inviting me to come, like you didn’t have my cell number.”

“You dumbass, it was one of the guys from my fraternity who sent that. If I wanted to talk to you, you’d know it.”

“I guess that makes sense since you’ve barely talked to me since we got in the car at Dad’s house. Is this because of Patrick?”

“Dude, I’m not talking about your boyfriend in the middle of my frat party. We’ve established that I didn’t invite you here, so why don’t you just bounce?”

“Why would one of your bros call me here?” Gavin asked, making a quote gesture with his hand.

“I don’t know, maybe to pull a prank on me, make me look like an idiot with a brother like you… just go away, Gavin.”

“And what if I don’t wanna?”

“What…?”

“Well, I was invited, wasn’t I? So maybe I wanna stick around and see what my big bro finds so damn interesting about this place!”

“You can’t be serious, you little shit, I…” Trent didn’t finish his sentence before being interrupted by one of his bros.

“Hey, Trent, dude!”

“What’s up, Bear???”

“I need your help here, Beer Pong competition with two hot chicks.”

“Just a sec, bro.” he replied before turning angrily to his younger brother. “Do whatever you want, but if you make me look bad, I’ll mess you up, and Dad isn’t here to protect you, you crybaby.” He concluded as he walked away.

“I can’t believe I had to go through that.” Gavin thought, retracing his steps, only to be blindsided when two of Trent’s huge bros sprinted past him in some kind of dumb game, spilling a ridiculous amount of beer all over him.

“Sorry, little bro… my bad!”

“Rip and Skip, you big idiots, the kid is soaked! Sorry, man, these two are just brainless. I’m Chance, president of the frat, and you’re Gavin, Trent’s little bro. Nice to meet you, Gav.”

“I’d prefer if you called me Gavin.”

“Negative, you’re my brother’s brother, so we’re family, and in family, everyone needs a nickname. Chance isn’t actually my name, though sometimes I forget that. But no one, not even my dad, calls me Conrad. So you’re Gav, come with me, little bro, let’s get you cleaned up and into some fresh clothes.”

“Thanks for the kindness, Conrad… Chance…” Gavin quickly corrected himself, seeing a dangerous glint in the much bigger guy’s eyes. “But I was about to leave, I’ll clean up in my dorm.”

“Negative again, Gav. You just got here, and I’m not letting you leave without getting to know a bit about the fraternity, and what kind of host would I be if I let two morons mess you up and then just leave without cleaning up the mess? Come with me.” Chance said, walking toward the big house. Not wanting to be rude, Gavin followed him.

“So… you were the one who sent me the invite through my brother’s Instagram?”

“Guilty, but it was with good intentions. You’re not a legacy since you’re not the son of a brother, but we don’t usually let brothers of brothers pass by unnoticed.”

“You… want me… want me in your fraternity?” Gavin asked, shocked.

“Why the surprise? Your brother is one of my chairmen; it’s natural to think about having you here with us.” Chance replied, leading Gavin to a room that looked like it had been hit by an explosion. There were clothes scattered all over the place, books and study materials in the corners, along with empty beer bottles and energy drink cans.

“Dude, what a pigsty, but your brother isn’t the most organized bro in the world. Though he makes up for it with charisma.”

“This is Trenton’s room?”

“Yep, normally he’d be sharing with another brother, but our selection process this year isn’t over yet. Here’s your chance to reconnect.”

“I… he’s made it pretty clear he doesn’t want any kind of relationship with me. I don’t think forcing myself into his life is gonna change anything.”

“Sit down and dry off.” Chance said, offering a towel that Gavin could’ve sworn hadn’t been washed recently. Still, not wanting to be rude, he took it from the other man’s outstretched hand and started to wipe himself down, feeling the musk of his brother spreading over his body as his dick started to harden. “Ugh, gross, what kind of reaction is that from smelling my brother’s body?” he thought, letting the towel drop as a wave of numbness washed over him, leaving him frozen.

“Finally,” Chance exclaimed cheerfully. “You’re in for one hell of a trip, little bro! But you and I are gonna enjoy every second of it!” He said, getting closer to Gavin’s frozen body and putting his own shades on the kid’s face. “I love this part, but something in the pledges’ eyes bothers me, so it’s better this way.”

“You must be wondering what the hell is going on, right, Gav? So, we’ve got little time for me to explain because soon you won’t even remember this little chat. So let’s start with the reasons. The most obvious one is I can’t let a nerdy little queer run around and tarnish my fraternity’s name just because he’s the brother of one of my chairmen. The second is that this woke culture, feminists, wimps, and communists have been trying to undermine the secular structures of our institutions for years, so we found a way to ensure our continuity. Ahhh, it’s starting, nice calves, little bro! They really remind me of mine… hehehehe.

Anyway, what this bunch of wimps forget is that our main goal has always been to create the right kind of men for society, proactive men, capable of making tough decisions and shaping our country. They look from the outside and think a fraternity is just parties and fun, but it’s from fraternities that the great politicians, military leaders, and businessmen of our beloved nation have come, men that even their patriotism the snowflakes dare to criticize. Just like your brother, when I met Trent last year, he was worse than you; he and Bear, who at the time insisted on being called Bernard, they were organizing some annoying protest against the toxic masculinity culture of fraternities, but it only took one touch from me on a prepped pen and boom, two new brothers ready to mess with that bunch of losers who, without their two leaders, scattered quickly. Wow, this core is looking way better, little bro, I’m thinking about where we’re gonna place you. Maybe on the Lacrosse team with your big bro.

Ah, Trent, the brother I never had, about to become my VP, and suddenly I find out he’s hiding a younger brother from me. You might not see the implications of this, little bro, especially now with billions of nanobots running through your body and adjusting it to my parameters, a younger brother to keep my legacy alive, which should’ve happened the moment you stepped foot in this college or any other with a Beta Gamma Phi chapter, but Trent hid you from us. What led the people above me to two conclusions: either the shame of having someone like you as a brother led him to this, especially since he hasn’t been initiated into all the mysteries and rituals of our fraternity, or my DNA and my traits didn’t total overdrive what he was before, which could be concerning. Either way, the solution to both problems is the same: you, or better yet, what you’re becoming. If there are no more faggy meek little brothers, there’ll be no reason for shame and there won’t be any residual memory of an old life that doesn’t matter anymore. And we’re almost there! Damn, little bro, you ended up bigger than I expected, I think you’re gonna crush me on the football team, and that’ll be a real kick in the ass for Trent, who I get to spend more time with you than he does, little bro, a small punishment for hiding you from me!” Chance finished with a nearly psychotic grin.

Gavin, for his part, didn’t stand a chance. As the torrent of technology invaded every cell of his body, conforming his DNA to Chance's primordial traits with just a few tiny differences to distinguish the two, his muscles expanded and reshaped, taking on aesthetic proportions that no eighteen-year-old could reach without serious dedication and effort or… the perfect genetics for that. At the same time, his mind was flooded with a whirlwind of new memories that quickly erased the old ones. Afternoons spent reading Zamyatin’s works became afternoons in the gym focusing on achieving the aesthetic physique of Zyzz; the knowledge that he got into college on a scholarship for his grades turned into the knowledge that it was all due to the athletic feats he accomplished. The interest in studying to become a lawyer focused on environmental causes faded into a vague, distant thought of working in finance or something that would make him easy money when college was over. The fights and arguments with his older brother, with their dad needing to intervene, transformed into moments of partying and camaraderie, with the two uniting against their much smaller and frailer progenitor. Finally, the tender, passionate kisses shared with his high school boyfriend who came to college with him turned into an endless list of young women deflowered and discarded and an annoying roommate he couldn’t wait to get rid of. When his body hit its peak and his mind was completely rewritten, he came in his own underwear, and a smile spread across his face. A smile reflected in the face of the biggest idol he had on campus, he could love his brother, but he wanted to be just like Chance, which ironically he was, though he’d never know it.

“Flex for me!” was Chance’s last command before Gavin’s reboot was complete.

“Daydreaming, little bro? Your brother sent me to check on you; dude, this room is a pigsty. When you’re officially living here, I expect a bit more organization.”

“What’s up, Chance, you sound like my dad!” replied the muscular guy, relaxing his flexed muscles and grinning, before taking the red cup the older man offered him.

“Someone’s gotta be responsible around here, and if it’s not the president, I wonder who it will be. Something I’m gonna need to remind your brother and you too if you ever wanna be in my position. Now go take a shower and throw on some decent clothes, the party’s been going on for a while, and all the other pledges are already there. Just because you’re the brother of a chairman doesn’t mean you get any privileges, or more privileges, since apparently your brother’s so in the loop he’s letting you crash here.”

“If you had my roommate, you’d get why I’m running away to here.”

“Don’t worry, soon that’ll be sorted out. Now hurry up and get ready, you stink.”

….

“So, did you put a little fear of God into the kid? I swear he’s a damn insubordinate little shit, but it seems like he listens to you.”

“Well, every good wolf knows to obey the alpha of the pack.”

“Fuck off, Chance, everyone in this damn place is an alpha.”

“But some are more alpha than others, little bro! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I promised a game to Kip and Skip. Good luck with our little bro, but between us, by tomorrow night he’ll be in for sure!”

“Of course, he might be a cocky little shit, but he’s my cocky little shit of a brother, he was born to be here.”

“True! Why don’t you guys join us? From what I saw in his school videos, he’s got a good throwing arm, even though he’s here for the rowing team, I think he could be a solid backup for me in intramurals.”

“Imagine the arrogance if he becomes the QB of the frat team…” Trent muttered to himself while watching the president wander off.

“Well, it’s a family trait.” Gav replied, approaching his brother. “So what’s up, big bro?”

“So, the Prez had a chat with you?”

“Man, Chance is so cool!”

“He let you suck his dick, huh? You’re looking way too happy…”

“Ew, dude, don’t hit me with that fairy stuff!”

“Well, the way you talk about him, it sounds like you’re dying for him to get in your pants!”

“Is it just me or is my big bro getting jealous?”

“Ha, as if you’d want that.”

“Shit, speaking of fags… what’s he doing here?” Gav commented to his brother, spotting a skinny redhead approaching.

“Who’s the dweeb?”

“He’s the reason I’m crashing in your room every night. He’s my fag roommate. I’m pretty sure he stares at me while I sleep, that creepy fairy. I’ll kick him outta here!” Gav said, getting ready to boot the other guy, but was stopped by the frat president’s voice.

“Catch!” he shouted, tossing a football in the kid’s direction, which he surprisingly caught before being swarmed by a crowd of frat bros and hot chicks congratulating him for the catch. When everyone pulled away, it revealed a strong redhead wearing a green shirt stepping up to the two.

“Not bad for a wrestling team member, huh?” he said, oozing arrogance.

“Hey, Rick. You certainly took your sweet time getting here.”

“As if I didn’t know you were sleeping until just now in Trent’s room. By the way, thanks for letting Gav crash there tonight, Trent, I’ve been wanting to hook up with that hot Tri Delta girl for weeks.”

“No problem, little bro. Now toss the ball over here, and let’s show all these hotties what the βΓΦ bros are made of.”

…..

“And how many times did you need to pull that tactic? Anyone I know?” asked the new VP of the fraternity as he prepared to take over his position in the first meeting of the semester after the new members joined, glancing at his brother and his best friend giving him a thumbs up.

“A few, unfortunately. There’s all sorts of problems and unwanted people we gotta deal with to keep the frat running smoothly, and nothing better than solving those problems by signing them to our hall of facilitators, but no, no one you know, bro. I’m super proud to have you as VP, Trent. Especially knowing Gav is gonna follow in your footsteps. You two and Rick are more than just the little bros life gave me; I consider you guys part of me, bro!”

“I didn’t know you were such a softy and sentimental, bro!” Trent replied with a mischievous grin.

“Shut up, you ashoole. I’m sure one day you’ll understand what I’m talking about. Once a βΓΦ always a βΓΦ!” he shouted to the gathered members before officially starting the chapter meeting. Being answered in unison by everyone present.

“Once a βΓΦ , always a βΓΦ.”

[goathouseofficial]

haven't made a jammer post which is unacceptable because i delight in him so here's a jammer post

him leaving gowpenny because they took away his autonomy is so visceral to me. immediately became a crucial part of his character in my mind. he is such a chill dude but at the same time the personal laws and values he has are so strong that as soon as something crosses a line he's out of there

actually on that note i wonder if there's going to be any resentment for k for volunteering him when it inevitably lasts way longer than a few days. but personal loyalty and forgiveness are also core values for him!!! but we haven't seen jammer snap, I don't think. and lou wilson has this incredible power of having his characters snap at just the right moment for maximum gut punch so. lots of possibilities there!!!

jammer working with kids and being good with them is so not a surprise that it loops back around to being delightful. does that make sense? like, of course he does! and that feeling is again so indicative of how lou wilson builds his characters that im mad about how good he is. also idk from the way he was played in that scene he knows all the kids names, all the ways to deal with each one individually, he's got a bunch of little tricks up his sleeve to deal with them. everything is just so jammer

finally the divide between jammer being so committed to his team and community back home but not really close to anyone in particular vs jammer apathetic to the larger magical world but still so devoted to his friends.. there is a key internal conflict and im so nervous because lou pcs always stomp on my heart and then make me want to thank him for it

[occamstfs]

Ugh, I Hate Bongs.

Switching it up slightly! Here's a more subtle TF as a straight edge busybody finally tries to stick it to his stoner roommate. -Occam

Chris was not going to let his roommate smoke in their apartment anymore. He was tired of the couch smelling like smoke which is reason enough, but beyond that his roommate, Nate, had fully broken two bongs in the past, getting their ashy water all over papers Chris had left out in the den. Hearing a telltale gurgle coming from the living room could only mean Nate had now brought a third bong into their shared space. Chris felt almost bound to act.

As soon as he opens his bedroom door he feels a wave of thick smoke blow through him, clearly getting the skunky smell he hates so much all over his clothes and bedding. This was something Chris could not let stand. It’s bad enough that he’s doing this in the apartment at all now it’s now going to start seeping into the only place he had left. He sees Nate on the couch taking in a deep breath preparing to lay into him. But? What was he mad about anyway?

Standing there continuing to breathe in smoke from Nate’s session he remembers there was definitely something he needed to do. He was in his room, then he heard his roommate, and now he is in the living room? As he continues to aimlessly circle through these seemingly insignificant events he doesn’t even notice as he stops smelling the weed in the air, before seeing Nate take another massive bong hit on the couch. Seeing him out of his room Nate smiles, breathing another wave of smoke into the room.

“Yo dude! Are you coming to join?” Nate’s eyes are bleary and red as he offers the bong and lighter to his roommate.

That’s what it was, Chris remembers as he sees the bong. He was pissed that his roommate was using a bong! It was, annoying for some reason? I mean it looks a little dirty right? “Didn’t I say no bongs dude?”

“Oh yeah dude! That’s why I rolled you a joint?”

This throws Chris for a loop. What a kind thing to do but he can’t help but feel something amiss going on. The smile briefly fades from Nate as he grows concerned seeing Chris struggle. “Woah everything good dude?”

“Yeah, sorry? My head just feels like it’s pounding,” Chris rubs his face in discomfort feeling his face grow flush and his eyes begin to dry.

“This’ll straighten you right up dude, come on just try a hit.”

Chris, upon being directly asked, puts out a hand for the joint and immediately lights it up like he has done it a thousand times over. He takes a hit like an expert, breathing slowly and naturally as to not cough. Only after doing so and realizing he had no discomfort he starts a coughing fit. Of course, he has been breathing progressively more and more smoke since stepping out of his bedroom, so this fit is almost performative. Something he is doing only because it is something he should be doing, or he thinks he should be doing? He doesn’t usually smoke, right?

This thought quickly flashes out of his head as feels lightheaded, collapsing onto the couch right next to Nate. His body growing leaner as he almost liquefies into the cushions, “See Chris what did I say, one hit and you’re already cured.” His glazed eyes look over to his friend as he takes another hit. He sees his friend’s stubbled face and wonders if he should grow one of his own. Shaving is more effort than it’s worth anyway. He exhales as he too starts to add to the pervasive smoke filling the room.

He scratches at his face as a scraggly beard starts to push out. Pausing to feel as much as he can in his body before taking another hit. Pushing his back against the couch, rubbing his arm down his chest and stomach, Nate watching as his roommate finally lets loose. Chris takes a third hit as Nate sees his hair get greasier as his pubes push out beyond the bounds of his holey underwear.

Chris launches into another coughing fit as, unbeknownst to him, he finishes the joint and starts to burn the filter. Seeing this Nate reacts as quickly as he can, clumsily putting the bong down on the table reaching out to check on Chris, rubbing his roommates back in a way that seem decidedly intimate. “Y’okay dude? Your hits were way too big but ‘s chill ‘s chill. You didn’t want any more did you?”

Sluggishly working through the words Nate just asked him he finds he doesn’t need to search for his own answer. Why wouldn’t he want more? Everything just feels so much better as he stretches, feeling his tendons and muscles expand and contract, “Mmmmm yeah I could do a little more.” Before he remembers that with his joint now impossibly consumed in three hits the only weed ready to smoke is in the bong’s bowl, still vaguely unpleasant to him.

Nate then has a masterful idea. He would shotgun the weed to Chris! Why would he be averse to that? They’re friends right? Chris, numbed beyond reason, is more than happy to give it a try. He’s sure that he's drunk after Nate before right? Or? Have they kissed before? It’s hard to tell, the benders they go on its truly impossible to say.

Chris watches as Nate takes a massive hit of the bong. Water gurgling for full seconds before he reconsiders, one last time feeling unease, he isn’t the to go on benders right? He’s so type a he wouldn’t even think about it. Continuing to question himself as he leans towards Nate, finishing his inhale as he too leans towards Chris. He opens his mouth letting the cloud of smoke leak out of his mouth, lazily gazing into Chris’ eyes expecting him to finish the job.

Seeing this Chris is unable to resist as he stumbles forward pressing his mouth to Nate’s.

Nate falls backwards, once more narrowly placing the bong on the table, as Chris crashes into him. The playful second hand smoking quickly dissolving into an aggressive grinding session as Chris hungrily slobbers over Nate’s neck. Maybe he is this type of person. Nate pulls Chris’ shirt off letting their torsos touch skin to skin as Chris begins dry humping his roommate. The two stoners continue in this regard as their cocks swiftly demand attention as sweatpants are pulled down and the two have at each other outright. Lean arms flailing in the air as they pull on each other's unwashed hair. Faces shove into hairy pits in lieu of smoking any more weed, besides of course the haze still filling the apartment. The pressure quickly mounts as Chris is inches from finishing all over his roommates’ hairy chest before he shifts and his left leg flings into the table knocking over bong number three. “Shit dude!” he cries as he does indeed finish missing Nate’s chest for his face. Coming down from their ecstasy the pair stumble off the couch narrowly avoiding glass shards as they try to clean up Chris’ mess.

“Maybe no more bongs yeah,” Chris giggles at something he can quite understand as he watches Nate struggle with a broom. His eyes shift from the unground weed on the table and his still unclad roommate as he starts to work himself up once more. Hungrily awaiting what comes next, he prepares for session two.

[thebutchersbitch]

I got a copper request for you if makes sense. Sorry English is not my first language. After close call of almost getting caught and found out as the Butcher he goes home to his girl to cool off. The thrill of such a close call surprisingly excited him and he fucks her to relief his built up adrenaline

thank you

18+

Cooper Adams x Reader | rough sex, choking, anal, blood kink, cum play (this one’s filthy, proceed with caution)

Cooper’s eyes darted up to the rearview mirror, then back to the road ahead. Safe. He was safe. It was difficult to feel safe, considering how closely he’d come to being seen this time…really seen. A passerby had gotten a little too near the scene where Cooper’s latest victim lay in pieces on the ground. It wouldn’t have been a problem necessarily if Cooper’s face had been covered…but he’d been uncharacteristically sloppy this time, too confident for his own good. Choosing to leave his face exposed was a dangerous gamble, but he found the rush was worth it. At least it had felt worth it, until Cooper realized he was being approached by someone in the near distance. Gathering his things, Cooper quickly exited for his vehicle, throwing his bag in the car and peeling out of the vacant lot before his identity and the entire second life he’d created as The Butcher, could be compromised…

Killing and dismembering often excited Cooper in unexpected ways; but tonight was different.

Cooper’s hand brushed across his lap, his wrist rubbing against the erection tenting his jeans. That was unexpected. He’d never been sexually aroused after killing…and as he turned off the interstate on his way to the safe house, he wondered if that was the cause this time? Or had his close brush with ‘capture,’ caused him to feel this way?

By the time Cooper pulled up to the back of the safe house, he was painfully hard, his balls aching for relief. None of the lights were on, but he knew you’d be there, waiting for him. And thank fuck for that, Cooper thought. Usually, you’d help him unwind after one of his murders, fixing him something to eat and giving him a massage after he showered all the blood and sweat off of himself. Fucking was part of the package, naturally. And tonight, Cooper knew he’d be taking full advantage of everything your body offered him. Fuck a shower first. He needed you NOW...

No words-just Cooper’s hand closing around your throat, pulling you into him-choking you on his tongue and the taste of someone else’s blood on his lips-fueled by pure adrenaline pumping through his veins. He immediately rutted himself against you, his stiff cock prodding your stomach as he forced you against him in a tight hold.

You weren’t especially squeamish, accustomed to seeing Cooper covered in blood-but he never initiated sex with you until he’d cleaned up first. The fact that his tongue was literally forcing a stranger’s blood between your lips had your head spinning; it was sick and fucked-up, but you found yourself…enjoying it.

The grip Cooper had on your throat tightened. It was erotic and frightening, as you worried that in this out-of-control state he was in, Cooper might not be able to stop himself from going too far. Your throat went dry, lungs screaming for air, your body jerking and writhing in his arms. At last, Cooper released you, shoving you to the floor. He spread his legs around you, boxing you in between his blood-caked boots, his hair fallen to the sides of his face as he watched you squirm like wounded prey beneath him. His hands made short order of his belt, ripping it from the loops in his jeans and throwing it aside. You scrambled to get up, not to get away from Cooper, but to gain your footing, at least some small bit of control in this new, scary game Cooper had initiated you into.

His boot slammed down on the sleeve of your sweater, barely missing your wrist, pinning you to the floor. You gasped in shock at how close Cooper had come to crushing your wrist, but your thoughts were interrupted when his husky voice asked, “Where d’you think you’re going, honey?”

He knelt down and returned his hand to your throat, holding you flat against the floor. With his other hand, Cooper ripped the neckline of your sweater downward, the material shredding in his fist. You whimpered under him, a confused cocktail of arousal and apprehension causing your clit to throb under Cooper’s knee, pressed roughly between your legs, further pinning you in place. He sensed the pleasure thrumming against his knee, your thighs trembling around him.

Cooper thrust two of his fingers between your lips, the sour tang of blood spreading on your tongue. “Suck,” he ordered, pumping his fingers in and out of your throat. Just as you were about to vomit, Cooper yanked his fingers back and used both his hands to flip you onto your stomach. You were simultaneously grateful he’d released your throat and also frustrated that he had. Your pussy was absolutely weeping, your arousal obvious to Cooper as he rubbed you between your thighs. “Good girl,” he murmured over your back, a satisfaction in his voice that made your heart swell with sick pride. “So slippery I can barely get hold of your little cunt, fuck…”

He yanked your leggings down, no further than your thighs, because he wasn’t wasting any time. What Cooper needed wasn’t any lower than your thighs, anyway. He spread your ass apart and spit on your little hole, watching it pucker. He knew you were nervous, and he was getting off on it. Cooper had never mixed intimidation and fear with sex before, confining those emotions/experiences to his murders alone; but now that he had a taste for it, Cooper was addicted.

He closed his hand over the back of your neck, holding your upper body flat against the floor. Cooper rubbed his cock between your legs, slicking his tip with your cum. Keeping your ass spread apart with his hands, Cooper penetrated you forcefully. You winced, your eyes sealing shut as the burn of his cock stretching you seared through your asshole like fire. It didn’t last long however, your body’s defenses rushing to aid you with an adrenaline surge of your own.

Cooper’s arms locked around your shoulders, holding you to his chest as he pumped your asshole full to the brim with hot ropes of cum. Growling into your shoulder, Cooper collapsed against you, his skin and hair damp with sweat, his chest heaving as he savored the rush of endorphins flooding his system. He felt human again, that animalistic craving which had overtaken him finally under his control once more.

He sucked a hard kiss into the back of your neck, looking between your bodies and carefully easing himself out of your ass. Cooper watched your hole as it gaped then contracted back in size, his cum belching and sputtering out of you as he played with your ass, massaging your cheeks and admiring his work.

Rising to his knees, Cooper spanked a bloody handprint onto your ass. “Make me something to eat,” he instructed, smoothing back his disheveled hair. “Then join me in the shower. You’ll need to clean up too; there’s a mess.”