#one last hurrah before maintenance

[kyrie-silverwings]

the midnight sun ∞ the hunter's moon

music insp below the cut

WHO ME

POSTING ZENOSxOC IN 2025 LIKE ITS 2021 WAHOO

[dannystattoo]

august

chapter 1 - "i can see us lost in the memory"

you didn't plan on spending your summer fixing up your family's old cabin, but you also didn't plan on reconnecting with your childhood crush for the summer. based on august by taylor swift

Pairing: Danny Wagner x fem reader

Warnings:  Some language, but that's about it

Spending the summer after your senior year of college helping maintain your grandparents’ cabin was not what you’d anticipated upon graduating. While you wouldn’t say you were ready to tackle job hunting just yet, you would have preferred to have at least been able to stay in the college town with all of your friends for a couple more months. You’d have loved to at least have a last hurrah before you all inevitably moved on to whatever was next. Life had a way of happening though. Your grandfather passed away in the winter and a lot had changed. Your grandma wasn’t able to live on her own, so she had moved in with your family for the time being. Your parents were also trying to figure out what to do with the cabin your grandparents had purchased decades ago. It was your grandpa’s pride and joy, and he would never let anyone sell it even if he’d barely been able to use it in the last few years. The rest of your family, grandma included, couldn’t care less about keeping the property in the family, Since you and your siblings all moved out of the house and didn’t have the opportunity to visit much anymore, they decided it was best to sell the house. However, it needed a lot of TLC before it could go on the market and you’d gotten roped into spending your summer taking care of the property. You cursed yourself for learning so many DIY skills in college when your friends had insisted on renting the shittiest house possible your sophomore year, as well as for being the golden child who couldn’t draw boundaries with your parents no matter how hard you tried. 

…and that was how you found yourself looking around this house, wondering how the hell you were going to have it ready to list by August, in three months. Your dad offered to come up and help when he could on weekends and you did have a list of contractors your grandparents had previously used who could help with the things you weren’t able to do, but you were mostly on your own. You tried to remind yourself that his would give you the opportunity to save up some money since you weren’t paying rent and your family would be paying you for your work on the house. This would also give you time to polish your resume and work on perfecting your design portfolio, hopefully allowing you to move somewhere better than the sleepy midwest town you grew up in or the slightly less sleepy city you went to college in. Your ultimate goal was New York City, but you were aiming for Chicago right now. All things considered, though, the thought of a summer spent more or less by yourself doing a stupid amount of manual labor made the thought of living in the city in cramped apartment with multiple roommates and eating ramen for every meal sound appealing. 

It had probably been about five years since you’d spent any sizable amount of time here, and that was around the same time your family started doing the bare minimum maintenance on the place. They’d also done the bare minimum when it came to cleaning, so you spent the entire morning making one of the bedrooms and one of the bathrooms clean and comfortable enough to get you through the first few days. Once you finished that, you started trying to make a game plan, but you became overwhelmed pretty quickly. Realizing it was nearing one in the afternoon, you decided to drive into town, pick up some fast food and take a break. You weren’t able to find much, but there was a Taco Bell within a reasonable driving distance. You returned home with your Nachos Bell Grande and a massive Baja Blast, hoping that would push you to have a productive evening. It was a beautiful day out, so you took you lunch out to the dock. The gate that led down to the water’s edge was a bit rusted and hard to open, but once you got it, you remembered why you loved coming here so much as a kid. Admittedly, once you looked past the state of the house and the yard, it was gorgeous out here. You were steps away from the lake, which had a tiny private sandy beach at its edge. Trees and plants in full bloom surrounded the lake, and you always loved the glow of the sun off the water. You told yourself that if you got through a clearing the clutter in the rooms you, your siblings, and cousins had shared as kids that day, you’d reward yourself with a glass of wine and a night spent on the patio with your designs. The change in scenery was inspiring you in a way you hadn’t expected. Looking at the nearby houses, you tried to remember all the kids you’d met here over the years. They were all fleeting friendships, lasting for only one week in the summer over the 4th of July and picking up the next year, depending on who returned and when. You’d met these kids well before social media, and you had no idea what happened to any of them after losing contact. You start thinking about them, wondering where life had taken everyone after those golden summers. 

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice that someone had appeared from the cabin next-door and they were walking down towards the water. 

“I had no idea they sold this place,” the voice said as it came up behind you. Startled, you turned around to see a man approaching you. He looked like he was about your age, maybe slightly older. You could tell from his tan skin he probably spent a lot of time outside, giving the impression of someone else who might be spending the summer here. Based on appearances alone, that was something you could get on board with. You couldn’t overlook the fact he was gorgeous - you were immediately drawn to his intense eyes and radiant smile, and the fact his was absolutely ripped didn’t hurt matters.

“Because they didn’t,” you laughed. “Granted, it’s barely been used in at least five years, but yeah, haven’t sold yet.”

“Well that’s good, I always like the people who lived here.”

“You knew them?” you were taken by surprise. 

“Oh yeah, my family owns the place next door. I’m Danny, by the way.”

“Y/N,” you said. The longer you looked at him, you began to think he looked vaguely familiar. “This is gonna sound weird, but we’ve met before haven’t we?”

“You have two older sisters and your family was always here the week of the 4th of July, right?”

“Yeah. You have a younger sister and you were also always here for the 4th of July?” As Dnny confirmed this, it all came flooding back to you. 

He was part of the group of about a dozen of you who lived on this street that you’d just been thinking about. He was, in fact, a few years older than you, but you seemed to remember his younger sister was around your age. You also remembered you’d had a hugely embarrassing crush on Danny that resurfaced every year. God, you’d forgotten about him completely, as it had been ten years since you’d seen him, more since you’d seen him with any sort of regularity at the cabin. You remembered it all with clarity now. 

He was three years older than you, and by the time you were eleven and he was fourteen, he started hanging out with the group less and less. Fair enough, he was a teenager, but it didn’t hurt any less. You’d always thought he was cute and he was the only boy in the group who was always nice to you. Looking back, he treated you like a little sister, but you didn’t see it that way then. You remembered the summer you were twelve and he was fifteen when he and another one of the older girls in the group stopped hanging out with you as frequently, only showing up at events where the entire family was present. You’d been devastated when you’d accidentally stumbled upon them making out in her room at a barbecue you’d all been at. By the next summer, you were convinced that because you were thirteen and a full fledged teenager, he’d finally be interested in you. Much to your dismay, he hadn’t even come up north that year, opting to stay home in order to spend more with his friends instead. It was only a couple more years before you stopped spending long stints there in the summer. You realized how much you’d forgotten about your time here.

“So what brings you back?” Danny’s question brought you back from your nostalgia. 

“Well, my grandpa passed away over the winter -“ 

“Oh shit, i’m sorry.”

“Thank you. It wasn’t unexpected, but still. Anyway, my family is actually planning to sell now and I somehow got roped into coming out here for the summer to fix it up and get it ready to put on the market. You live in one shitty house that forces you to learn handy skills and they use it against your for the rest of your life,” you laughed.

“What, by yourself?”

“Not entirely, my dad is coming up to help me out when he can and we will need to hire people to do some of the more complicated projects. But yeah, mostly.” You were kicking yourself the moment you said it. Way to go, Y/N, you thought to yourself. You don’t know the first thing about this guy anymore and he could be a crazed serial killer for all you knew. 

“Anyway, I could ask you the same thing,” you shifted the attention back to him.

“Honestly, I don’t know. Getting away, I guess? I’ve been so stuck with work lately and I thought a change of scenery might be good. Don’t ask why my first inclination was to come here, but it was.”

“By yourself?”

“For now. Three of my friends, more like my brothers actually, are planning to come up in a few weeks and spend most of the summer. They may be going back and forth between here and home a bit more than me though.”

“Where do you live?”

“Nashville.” 

“That’s so cool, I unfortunately didn’t get to go far for college and I was so lucky to move back to my hometown in Michigan after graduation. I’m hoping to save up some money over the summer so I can start looking to move. Enough about me, what is it you do for work?” You were intrigued when he said he was “uninspired”, wondering if he did something creative too.

“Uh, musician,” he said running  his hand through his dark curls. You could tell he assumed you’d react a certain way.

“No shit, that’s sick! What kind of music?”

“I’m in a rock band, drummer. I know it probably sounds kind of lame, but we’ve actually released a few single, and EP, and we just got a contract for our first full record. As exciting as all of that is, I’m having a hell of a time getting anything written to contribute to it. Decided I’d come here for a little bit first by myself, and then the guys are gonna join me in a couple weeks. I thought maybe getting out of the city would help. Plus the lease on my place was up last week and the house I’m set to move into isn’t available September 1st.”

“Well, I don’t think that’s lame at all. I’m trying to break into design, so I kind of get it.”

“Oh really, what kind?”

“My dream would be fashion, it was my main area of focus in school, but I’ve also been building by graphic design portfolio to have something more ‘practical’, as my parents would say.”

“I get that, I’m sure you can imagine my parents were just thrilled when I said I had no desire to go to college right after graduating high school.”

“Sounds like you’re doing great anyway,” you shrugged. You guys talked comfortably for quite a bit longer, catching up on the past ten years. It was nice to have found a friend so early on, at least you hoped you’d found a friend. Danny was so easy to talk to and you felt an effortless connection, even if you hadn’t seen him in a literal decade. Eventually, you picked up your phone, sitting abandoned on the table, and you didn’t like the time.

“Oh god, how is it already three? I’m so sorry, but I should probably go, I have so much work to do,”

“Honey, you have all summer,” Danny said. You wouldn’t admit that your stomach flipped when he called you that. Fuck, were you attracted to him now, still? 

“You’re right, but you have no idea how much I have to do.”

“Can I help with anything? I know I didn’t come here for home renovation projects, but you could persuade me, I think.” 

“I would actually really appreciate that, if only for the company. Tell you what, my main goal for the day was to start cleaning out some of the bedrooms, if you’d want to help? When we make some good progress, maybe we can grab dinner? Like I said, even if it’s just for the company and an accountability buddy.”

“I’d love that. Honestly, I’ve only been here like two days and I’m going insane in my own company. I was so hung up on the idea of taking a solitary trip to work that I forgot I’m an extrovert.” You smiled at him, grabbed your Taco Bell remains, and led him into the house.

“Not to be rude, but you weren’t kidding,” Danny said, looking around the house. 

 “Yeah, it’s so, so bad. We’ve hardly been up here since like, 2017, what with life and school and work, and that was around the time my grandparents weren’t able to come up here by themselves anymore. I think my parents did just enough maintenance so that the neighbors wouldn’t lose their minds.” 

“Gives me an excuse to offer my services around here a lot then?” 

“I think that sounds perfect,” you smiled, leading Danny to the bedroom you and your sisters shared years ago. Before you could stop yourself, you caught yourself thinking that you’d love to be taking him back to your room under much different circumstances. You couldn’t believe that you were down bad for this guy yet again, hours after seeing him for the first time in a decade.

To be continued

[heliopauseentertainments]

One Last Polish

For MegOp Week 2021

Prompt Day 4: Retirement / Youth

Continuity: IDW2

Rating: Teen

Relationship: Megatron/Optimus Prime, Megatron/Orion Pax

Characters: Megatron, Optimus Prime, Orion Pax

Warnings: Implied combat & injuries (not on screen)

Summary: In which Orion helps Megatron after his final fight before joining the senate.

Crossposting: In a reblog.

Fic under cut.

The buffer was loud, making it difficult to hear what Megatron was saying. Orion switched the buffer off with a flick of his thumb, wax still clinging, smeared in milky white streaks, to his friend’s half-polished shoulder.

“I’m… afraid I didn’t catch that.”

“It was nothing, just… inane wistfulness about the past.” The gladiator—well, ex-gladiator now—waved his hand dismissively. “Old glories and other useless sentiments.”

Orion supposed it made sense. Tonight had been his friend’s final fight in the arena, a pastime that would have to be set aside so he could step into his new political career. One last hurrah before taking life in a brand new direction, leaving both this and his old day job of mining behind. The elections had gone well for the seat Megatron had stood for, the voters choosing him to represent their goals under Termagax’s Ascenticon banner. Orion wondered if his friend was aware of just how much he took after his mentor.

It wasn’t as though Orion didn’t understand the gravity of the situation. He himself has recently taken a high-ranking post, head archivist, after his own mentor had gone below to become part of Cybertron. While he had done similar work all of this life, it was still a big change. Though, perhaps his change was not quite as drastic as the one Megatron would be making tomorrow when he would enter the senate building for the first time and take his seat.

These scratches were stubborn, just like the mech wearing them.

“What do you think it’ll be like?” he asked, setting the buffer aside on the table in shabby apartment Megatron had lived in for so long. Orion’s apartment was slightly nicer but this one was cozier. It was also closer to the arena, which made post-match patch jobs easier. Not that it would matter tomorrow, when after the initial senate hearing Megatron would be assigned to new quarters down the street from his new workplace.

For most mechs, such as a last minute move would have been a hassle, but for all of Megatron’s presence, he hardly owned anything. A few datapads crammed with texts, a piece of quartz crystal found while hollowing out the moon… and nothing else. The furniture was standard and had come with the place when it was assigned to him.

The buffer and wax belonged to Orion. He’d brought them along in his subspace just for the occasion. He wanted Megatron to enter his new role with his best foot forward, to help offset his gruff bluntness.

The stark emptiness of a place supposedly lived in spoke of how rarely Megatron was actually home. Maybe the new position would grant his friend some leisure time…. It was strange though, to think of how they wouldn’t be here like this anymore. Without fights, the ritual had no purpose. Orion buffing out scratches and wiping away spilled oil and fuel? Megatron sitting smug, proud how he had even gotten covered in mess in the first place, a real sportsmech?

None of that would happen anymore. This was it. No more of that easy intimacy. No more occasionally having that buffer turned on himself in vengeance for tormenting a ticklish patch of armor. No more “accidental” brushing up against each other that could be explained away. Their excuse of friendly maintenance would be gone.

The last time.

Orion absently patted the smeared wax on the shoulder in front of him, fingers lingering on the warm, familiar, scarred plate. He knew almost every one of the marks, every one that had been too deep to fully remove. With a cringe, he realized the wax was everywhere, all over his hand. Ugh. He pulled that hand back and frowned at the palm from behind his mask.

“Obstinate old mechs, long set in their ways, arguing but not listening.”

Gouges from the evening’s fight marred his armored plating, an unfortunate reminder of just how much work remained to make Megatron presentable. A senator that looked like he had lost a brawl to a sandblaster was hardly going to make the right impression, no matter the tenacity behind his words.

Orion chuckled.

“That sounds like every time the Archive tries to secure more funding—“

“I will make them listen,” Megatron interrupted. The former fighter turned to face Orion, leaning in towards his long-time friend and companion as a determined smirk made its home on his face. Orion felt torn between reaching out to pat the side of his face and trying to buff the smirk out to get a rise out of the newly-minted senator.

Unfortunately, in his indecision, he did neither.

“They will simply have no choice.” The smirk stretched wider, hiding a plan that if asked about, the archivist knew from experience he would only be told that he would “find out in time.”

Orion sighed, wiping the wax from his hand onto a cloth before picking up the buffer again.

“Of course, but… you still look like you got lost in a sandstorm.”

“Fortunately, we have all night for you to change that, don’t we?”

Orion clicked the little tool back on again, the motor whirring to life with the threat of smooth, shiny plating.

[sweetcatmintea]

A Villain’s Code

Yay! Flash fiction Friday is here again ^u^ Apparently I’m in a kick for superheroes so have a villain monologuing :3c I hope you enjoy it ^u^ Feedback is always appreciated  💜

Flash fiction Friday is run by the lovely folks at @flashfictionfridayofficial

Prompt: Forbidden Knowledge Words: 1210 (so close :v)

---

A crack like snapping a chicken wing in two. Blood and stars gush into the air. He’s grinning, waving farewell as her vision blurs. It’s only a moment of black before pain pulses across her face to the beat of her accelerating heartbeat, urging her eyes open again. Dazed as she was, change is immediately obvious. Still high above the bustling city, howling wind all but drowning out the traffic and music below while trying to claw them off the skyscraper, she is no longer hunting her adversary. She has been caught. He towers over her in every sense other than physical, crouching with satisfaction sparking his green eyes. Copper leaks through her teeth like a mouthful of old coins. Her stomach lurches as she turns her head, world momentarily spinning so she can spit a wad of blood out.

“You pistol whipped me? F*ck.” Her nose crackles with each word. “You broke my nose.”

He prods at her face, blood dusted fingers retreating before she could bite down. She regrets the action immediately, pain shooting through her skull. Curses are hissed under breath.

“Don’t be such a baby, Hero. I reset it so it won’t get all crooked and weird.”

His shadow leans over his shoulder and gives a thumbs up, piping in with “Think of it as a free nose job!”

“I got a free concussion.” She twists her hands as subtly as she can, trying to pry them from the shackles binding her in place. There’s barely enough room to move between her spine and the, maintenance box? she’s tethered to.

The man rolls his eyes. “You’ll heal. You’re already looking sprightlier.”

Her glare sends the shadow stumbling back, hiding behind the villain, but the man just laughs. They both know the cuffs are cancelling her powers. He was just messing with her, and when she gets out of this, she’ll repay in full.

“Oops! Forgot about the Cancellers. Guess you’ll have to sit tight and heal the normal way.” He shrugs animatedly.

“So what now? You shoot me and go on your merry way? Give yourself a gold star for killing a hero?” Her heart raced but she had to ignore it. Keep him talking. She’s not ready to die. Not here. Not by his hand. He still had to pay for his crimes. Her fingers squirmed, trying to pull through the metal. Thick fabric made the task near impossible. Her hands were heating up, clammy, cramping, and completely trapped. What the hell had he done? Her gaze flitters to his outfit, another change catching her eye. Her skin crawls with the insinuation. Where were his socks? He doesn’t give her a chance to be disgusted, redirecting her focus with a poke to the forehead, just above the mask.

“Use your head, Hero. Why would I kill you now? It would have been easier to slap those little bracelets on you while you were out of it and just chuck you over the edge.” He chuckles. “Even with your abilities, I doubt you’d survive the fall.”

“Maybe you’re just a sick freak who gets of on torture? Sounds apt to me.”

He presses a hand to his heart, feigning sadness. “You wound me Hero! To think so lowly of your most treasured enemy?! Perish the thought!”

More blood spat to the concrete. Her head keens, body unused to the prolonged agony. “You kill people all the time. Don’t pretend you have morals.”

“Necessary casualties. Believe me, I wouldn’t waste my time parading around for someone I wanted dead. They’d be dead.

Necessary casualties?” He was lucky she was bound. Rage rolls off her in hot waves. “Say that again and I’ll kill you.”

“Perfect Segway, Princess!” The shadow pops back up, reads the room, and immediately hides again.

“Exactly what I wanted to talk to you about!” Ignoring the animosity oozing from the trapped hero, the villain plops down, sitting legs crossed in front of her. “I’m not going to kill you.”

She scoffs.

“Not today. Not tomorrow. Never. Not purposefully anyway. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. Scheming, looking at the big picture, it’s kind of my thing. Point being, there will always be another hero. I could kill out and someone else will always be there to take your place. Just like you did for the last one. You could kill me, and another villain will rise from my ashes. Over and over ad nauseum. I’ve killed hero after hero after hero. I’ve killed villains over and over. No matter the action, it always ends up the same way. A hero and a villain. The books need to be balanced. What’s the point in killing you?”

The wind whips his black hair around his face. There’s an earnestness there. Search as she might, she can’t find a hidden agender or some secret wickedness in his expression. It makes her stomach churn and she’s not sure why. Maybe how human he looks.

“Y’know? He laughs, carefree, almost like a schoolboy. “I think we could have been friends once. If you weren’t so morally anal, that is. Don’t bother with the ‘I’d never be your friend!’ spiel. I know. Regardless of your emotions towards me, Hero, I do like you. I’m not going to kill you. I’ll fight you, I’ll knock you flat on you’re a** whenever you swoop in to “save the day” but I will not be the cause of your death.”

“Why are you telling me this?? It doesn’t change anything.”

“A villain has to monologue. You know that. Hmm, but think of it as imparting some forbidden knowledge. A taste of the apple, if you will. If I won’t kill you, you can’t kill me. This is a waltz that lasts forever, Hero.”

“If it stops you, it’s justified.” Taking a life was not a crossroads she had yet to come to. She wasn’t sure she could, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Is it? You’d kill a man in cold blood? I thought you were the were the good guy.”

“It’s different if you’re harming civilians.”

“Can you really justify it though? Using deadly force on someone who you know would never hurt you that badly? I’m many things, a liar isn’t one of them. Would you tell yourself it’s self-defence as you pull the trigger I refuse to touch?”

Sirens scream below, gathering at the hero’s silence.

“Well, my dear Hero, it looks like the curtain is closing. Despite our disagreeances, I truly hope that in that pinnacle moment when you have the crosshairs on me and finger on the trigger, you see what I see and join me. There’s no guarantee the next villain won’t be worse than me. For now, I will take my leave for the night. That whole hurrah with the bank was just to arrange this little heart to heart of ours. I will be keeping the notes though. Adieu~”

“I’m not done! Come back and face me!!”

“No thank you.”

“If it means peace, I will kill you!”

His laugh echoes across the roof.

“Then it will be a delightful show, the hero out for blood chasing the villain who refuses to kill. I wonder who the spectators would root for?”

—

Tag List

@snobbysnekboi, @inkovert, @kainablue, @i-rove-rock-n-roll, and @goblin-writer

[ask-de-writer]

DARING DO and THE GRYPHON’S QUEST! : MLP Fan Fiction : Part 15 of 19

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to MLP Fan Fiction

DARING DO

and

THE GRYPHON’S QUEST!

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

and

Carmen Pondiego

Cover art by Aranel the Cyborg, now  Wind the Mama Cat

29584 words

© 2020 by Glen Ten-Eyck

Writing begun 03/29/16

All rights reserved.  This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

This is a Fan Fiction based on My Little Pony.  Canterlot, Princess Luna and the name Daring Do are owned by Hasboro Inc.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions, provided that such things are done without charge.  I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images.  

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fictions is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

Chapter 15. Journey to the Gryphon Empire

The screen of Eagles overhead made certain that there was no further aerial assault.  There were no other adventures beyond seeing the changeling’s continuous wonder and delight at the mundane seeming world that they passed through.  

That did not stop her from needing fires four times a day to draw warmth from.  Warmth that she then shared out to her precious eggs.  Her dedication to turning them and keeping them safe was past impressive.

At the Circle Lake Resort rail terminus Grata laid out her ID as the Left Wing of the Imperial Throne and her Letters of Cooperation from Princess Luna and Princess Celestia.

“Good Station Master, we require a safe place to keep our cart untouched except by members of our party until you can obtain a car that will meet our transport needs.”

The pony looked up at Grata.  From behind his ticketing window grating he asked, “What is so special about your car needs?”

Grata, crest set dead serious, replied, “We need a single baggage/passenger car with a galley suitable for both Gryphon and pony diets.  There must be a communicating door between the passenger and baggage parts.”

The Station Master pony scratched behind his orange ear as he thought. “There are precious few such cars as you require.  I can do a Magic Net check to see how soon I can get one here.  The check might take an hour or two.”

An arrogant Gryphon voice interrupted, “It is of no importance!  This Blasphemous Venture Ends HERE!  They did not go to the so called Sunlord Temple at all!

“I, Krayard, High Priest of the Twin Flames of Creation, shall personally destroy anything in that cart that I deem blasphemous!  That changeling must be slaughtered!  As for those eggs, I will make an omelet of …”

Three power diving Eagles interrupted his oration by slamming him to the station platform!  Their extended talons drew blood.  As he tried frantically to flutter back to his feet, two more diving Eagles smashed talon first into his wings, pinning his spread out pinions!  Another Eagle struck Krayard in his center back, between the wings!  

Added to the crunch of clawed claws smashing into him, there was the cracking of bone!  Krayard’s hindquarters suddenly spasmed wildly and went limp!

Shocked beyond measure, he cried out, “Make them stop!  Why are they attacking me?”

Rahak replied, crest set to show mild interest, “How can we?  They are not tame creatures doing some trick.  You threatened both their mother and their young that she is tending.”

“Mother!  How is that monster of blasphemy any sort of mother to anything?”

The Eagles had paused their attack, except that the one on Krayard’s neck struck suddenly!  He lifted his head, beak dripping the gore of the priest’s right eye.  Striking yet again, he blinded the Gryphon under his talons.

Grata filled in, “How stupid are you, Krayard? The first living being that a chick sees becomes mother to it.  This changeling was the sole survivor of her hive.  We do not know where the hive was, or how long she has been raising Eagles but these are all following their mother.

“Defending Nest and Young is NEVER murder and that is what they are doing!  I see no reason to interfere.” Grata turned her back on the carnage that followed as the Eagles began to strip the flesh from his carcass.

Speaking to the appalled Station Master, Grata said cheerfully, “My apologies for the mess.  I will pay extra for cleaning the platform.”

Tearing his eyes from the ghastly sight of the Gryphon’s now still carcass being stripped by a horde of Eagles who were feeding cooperatively, the Station Master swallowed hard and replied, “Thanks, ma'am.  Was not looking forward to getting that job done.  About that car, let me get started on finding it for you.”

He busied himself with a magic net mirror.  He applied Princess Luna’s note of cooperation, which caused the Royal Seal of the High Commissioner of Equestrian Roads to glow and stick, proving the document and the connected request to be genuine.

It only took him about twenty minutes.  Looking up, he reported, “Ma'am, I found a car that meets your needs.  It will take two days to get it here.  We cross checked with Princess Luna herself.  She has ordered it as a special train, with its own engine and fuel car.  Once it is here, it can be ready to load your party in only two hours.  Those are needed for proper maintenance.”

Grata nodded acceptance.  “That is fine.  Where can we safely park our cart and stay by it?”

“Stay by it?  I can easily book you into a resort hotel.”  He rubbed his chin in thought.  A glance over at the dead Krayard, where the changeling was happily chomping down gobbets of the carcass, surrounded by Eagles who were also feeding with none of the expected squabbling.  

They were all surrounded by the delicate green glow of changeling magic.

The Station Manager sort of swallowed hard.  “OK, I see why you won’t want a hotel room!”  Rubbing his chin, he suggested, “Try our Warehouse #2. We will lock the pegasus ports from the inside.  Same for the main doors.  Entry and exit will be through the office.  Will that do?”

“It sounds perfect.  Let us see it.  Doctor Do will be the final judge of that.”

The remaining two days stayed quiet.  They built small fires for the changeling on a regular basis, to help her keep her eggs warm.  Eagles perched along the roof crest and in the trees nearby.  

They brought gifts of fish from the lake and a good variety of greens for Daring Do.  These, they laid at the door to the warehouse office.

When the special short train arrived, they opened the main door to the warehouse and brought out the cart and the changeling.  Oddly, it was Gryphons among the tourists who cheered them the most.

A pony asked a cheering Gryphon, “How can you cheer that one?  I mean, it is a changeling and it ate one of your kind!”

The Gryphon paused, crest showing puzzlement.  “Why is that wrong?  He was attacking nest and young.  Besides that, he was violating the will and law of your Princesses and our Empress.  Such a being has no honor.  His death was to be unmarked and unburried, for scavengers to eat.  That it benefited nest and young was a good thing!

“Hurrah for the Left Wing of the Throne!”

The pony shook his head.  “Every time that I think that I have started to understand you Gryphons, something like this happens!”

They watched as the baggage car door was opened and the cart and changeling were loaded.  The door was sealed and Daring Do, Grata and Rahak boarded the passenger part of the car.  Eagles perched on top of it!

With the loud Chug! Chug! The hissing of steam, bells clanging, and the blast of a whistle, the journey to the Gryphon Empire began.

The changeling came out to be with them for a little bit.  She watched the passing scenery with fascination.  Daring Do pulled out her writing kit and offered it to her.

She also brought out the copy of the original document of the Legends, the one written just before 54 years after the last Nightmare War.

She explained what she wanted.  The changeling smiled and began to write.  She took time off to go tend her precious Eagle eggs, but returned to her task.

At a fuel stop, Daring Do was stretching her legs.  The Engineer approached her.  He was shaking his head.  “Ma'am, we will be in the Empire this evening!  I have never seen anything like this run!  Princess Luna cleared the entire mainline, all the way to the Imperial Aerie.  The Empress herself ordered the border opened to us without the need for a stop!  We will be at the Imperial Aerie by no later than ten tomorrow.  This is our last stop before the Imperial Aerie.”

<==PREVIOUS   NEXT==>

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[early-sxnsets]

I’m adjusting my ask. Inspired by this weekend’s episode of Killing Eve: love in an elevator. Mild smut optional 😉💕.

(ok so. i haven’t seen killing eve yet because i’m incredibly behind on shows, BUT… i loved this idea so much that i took it and absolutely ran. this ask has been sitting in my inbox for days, mainly because i wanted to save the best for last. now that this is the only ask prompt sitting in my inbox, i’m ready to finally get this out here. so, of course, here’s the big boom. nsfw below the cut.)

-

“Fucking hell,” I mumble, wiggling my hips as I try to shimmy my mobile back into the pocket of my jeans. Twenty minutes ‘til I’ve got to leave, half an hour until the date. And, to make matters better, the bloody elevator won’t ding yet.

After a quick moment’s consideration, I came to the conclusion that sprinting down 15 flights of stairs would not be as effective as waiting a few minutes for the lift. Piece of fucking junk, that’s what it is.

I’m counting the tiles above it when it finally lets off a soft ring, picking my head up with it as the doors slide open.

Thank god it’s empty.

It’s empty for the first couple floors, which gives me at least some sort of relief. That is, until the eighth floor when it slows to a stop and takes its sweet time to open back up. Lovely. Someone to slow it down.

And, what do I know, it isn’t any someone. No, it’s my arsehole ex-roommate from first year. Baz Pitch, in the flesh and blood, still standing a few inches above me (as if would shrink?). He’s looking posh, as usual. Fancy, wrinkle-less buttondown hanging loosely from his shoulders, nearly half unbuttoned and tucked nicely into this fitted trousers. Imagine a dick dressed like a model. That’s all he is. Beautiful and brilliant as always.

He and I exchange distasteful glances as he steps in, the weight of the lift bobbing slightly. We’re wordless as he hits the close-doors button, then starts jamming his finger into the “2″ option.

I watch him from behind, arms crossed and foot tapping. He’s quite impatient, too, and it sounds like the sound isn’t quite going off.

My ears prickle at the sound of his frustrated grunt, and I can’t help but mock him back. “Works better when you hit it.”

His head whips around, brows narrowing before wordlessly snapping back. I smirk. 

“Oi, just walk up the bloody flight from the first floor.”

I watch as he wiggles from side to side, hitting it more aggressively, and repetitively. As if we’re in a competition.

I’m about to open my mouth to tell him to quit it, the whole carrier stops and jars us both. I stumble while he sways, eyes going wide as he glances around. “What the…”

“Of course you fucking broke it,” I say, almost on the verge of laughing as the emergency light starts glowing. “Oh, brilliant. We’re fucking stuck.”

He gapes at me, frowning and going to try to hit open doors. It doesn’t work.

“Power’s shocked, genius,” I mumble, grabbing out my mobile.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m calling campus maintenance.”

If I didn’t know him, I’d say “Awh, look at the poor bloke, lookin’ all sad.” But, since I do know him, I know I’m the only one with a proper reason to be pissed.

He huffs at me, turning his head away as he tries to look around, stepping back into a corner and looking away.

After a brief ring, I tell the office what’s going on and where we are. I hear the line crackle and the soft clack of keyboard keys before I get a solid answer. “We’re short staffed today, and there was already a pipe break in another building. It’ll be at least three hours before they reach you.”

Fuck. I thank the receptionist anyway, because I’m a decent fucking human, before mock throwing my mobile against the wall. I try to not take too much notice that Baz flinches, watching me slide it back into my pocket as I grunt.

His curiosity turns towards me as he peers, brows lifted. He always looks so fucking smug. Even when he’s like this, he’s a bloody know it all.

“This is your fucking fault,” I snap, rolling my shoulders as I jab a finger towards him. “If you hadn’t gone off, we wouldn’t be in this?”

“Oh right, blame it on me and not the faulty system they put in here,” he retorts, arms crossing over his chest.

“Yeah, it is your fault!”

“I’m sorry, did I ruin some big plans of yours? Going to see your little girlfriend, Snow?”

“No!” I’m getting a little heated now, throwing my arms up as my face goes pink. “Wouldn’t you like to know we broke up, hm? Always knew you fancied her. I actually had a date with someone new!”

His expression stays snotty, mouth pulling into more of sneer as he looks me over. “Never fancied your girl, Snow. Keep that in your pants.”

“Oh really?” I laugh, stepping closer as he turns his head up more. “Shall we go over the entirety of our first year year? I nearly dropped out because of you.”

“Should’ve fucking done it.”

We’re nearly face to face now, me crawling into his personal space as his head turns further upwards, trying to escape my gaining inches.

I guess I should’ve seen this coming. One last fight with Baz Pitch before the final year wraps up. Uni’s been a fucking mess already, might as well give me one last hurrah of my time.

I’m squinting at him. He’s glaring at me. We’re barely in a fighting stance, but more less a backed up corner brawl, and it’s be easiest for me to just tackle him down.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? For me to fucking leave? Why did you hate me so much Snow.”

“It wasn’t you who I hated, you bloody idiot. It was your fucking girlfriend.”

I stop, chest heaving as I squint further. It doesn’t quite… add up… “What?”

He flushed a bit redder, gulping as his hands press to my chest, trying to nudge me away. “You heard me. Just get the fuck away.”

What the hell does he mean? What’s he saying. “Basil…”

He practically snarls, giving me a good shove. “Fuck off, Simon,” he snaps.

I stumble back, still panting from the shouting as I try to think it over. Simon? Girlfriend?

My legs wobble below me, eyes fixated on the unfamiliar look on his face. It’s so familiar in others, so foreign in his. Like there’s shame washed over him, and now he can’t scrub it off. 

I step back closer, and he gets ready to push me off again.

Before either of us can think enough to have an appropriate reaction, I grab his face and yank it down close enough to touch. He looks scared.

I don’t know what I look like.

Deranged, probably.

Almost definitely not the face someone would want to be kissed by, but I’m smashing my lips against his either way, hoping this was the answer he wanted.

He goes plank-stiff at first, arms all rigid and bolting his feet down into the ground. I take a few beats, hands still resting against his skin as I pull backwards and prepare to apologise profusely. Instead, I’m hit with his chasing lips, crashing back awkwardly into mine.

Neither of the kisses are quite nice. They’re hard and angry, jamming my face into his as we struggle to find any sort of balance between us.

His hands sink lower now, finding my belt loops and hiking me up with them. He backs me up into a wall, and I slowly sink back down onto the floor to stop my legs from wobbling. He follows in suit, settling onto my lap as he softens and gets more desperately grabby. Hands lacing around arms, stroking thighs and tracing sides.

Every time he pulls himself back, I stare at him for the briefest of seconds before he throws himself back in. I hold him tighter. I kiss him lighter.

I slip my hands into his waistband, and grab his arse from outside his boxers. He groans against me, then snaps backward, not moving from my lap. “I thought you weren’t gay,” he breathes, eyebrow raised.

I lick my lips, hand still firmly holding a fistful of him. “Yeah, well, about that…”

He just glares at me until I explain.

“I was about to go on a date with a bloke from Tinder,” I explain, shifting.

That makes him really pull back, suddenly remembering that I had other plans as he looks utterly disgusted. I gulp and try to pull him back. “I cancelled it, though!”

He stops.

“I… I texted him after they said it’d be three hours. I wasn’t that invested, anyway.”

He looks over me, shifting. “I’m not some consolation, Snow.”

“You’re not!” I practically yelp, trying to pull him back onto my lap. “Fucking hell, Baz, just listen to me!”

Silence. That look of disgust. The frozen movements of his body.

“You’re not… It’s…” I chew on my lip. “You know how I figured out I like blokes? Because I wanked to you after that time you yelled at me when you were in just a towel after a shower. Okay? That’s it. That’s how.”

We sit in silence for a moment, my eyes closing as I exhale. The hands still holding him start to shake with him, and I fly my eyes back open to see him laughing, gawking at me. I suck in a lip, watching him grow louder before looking me over.

“Then what are we doing?”

I shrug, refusing to let him go. “Solving something, alright.”

He bites his lip, raising his brows at me before carefully sitting. “Don’t quite know what we’re solving,” he mumbles, getting situated back on my lap.

I stroke up his thighs, shrugging as I go in to kiss his neck. He lets me, hands falling into my hair as I slowly run my hands up further. They stop at his trouser’s button and zipper, waiting for further instructions,

He nods twice, chin settling on my hair as I slide the button through slowly.

“Years long tension?” I finally answer, hooking my fingers under his waistband. He lifts himself up, allowing me to wiggle down his trousers and pants, settling them around his mid-thighs. 

My face stays firmly pressed to his neck, feeling the bob of his throat before he talks.

“You can say that.” 

I lift off, looking over his face for a moment before glancing down and slowly wrapping my hand around his prick. 

We meet eyes again, and lean back in to kiss each other as I stroke once, pull off and let him spit into my hand before going back at it. He groans against me again, softly letting it rumble through his throat as I carefully stroke upwards.

I feel his hands settle back on my stomach, dropping down and fumbling with my zipper. I nod against him, licking his palm when he directs me to before feeling his cold fingers wrap around my base.

We stroke in the same rhythm, his hips rolling down against my hand and mine occasionally jerk up, lips loosely planted onto Baz’s, taking the occasional moment to travel and kiss the slowly sweat-dampening skin of his.

A hand brushed into my hair and tugs around my curls, and I take it as freedom to stroke faster, kissing him with every wet dream fantasy I’ve held onto since that night it hit.

I finish him first, and then he finished me, shooting back onto my legs and sinking his mouth onto my prick.

His hair’s silky to hold, and sturdy to grab onto, my mouth falling slack as he pulls himself off.

When he sits up, I reach out and hold his face, all shadowed in the harsh red glow of the emergency light. I bring him closer, kissing him over and over, and knowing not to let him go again.

[toku-explained]

Mission 1: Treasure Hunting

Decker: Someone with a camera snaps pictures of Kanata and Kirino on patrol, Kirino is annoyed by Kanata being lethargic. The girl with the camera gives Kanata a picture of himself holding the D-Flasher, and tells him he's Ultraman, promising to keep his secret if he competes against her father. In their humble home, her father is explained to be a famous martial artist across the universe known as Grace, until being trapped by the Spheres, but he admonishes Mika for the blackmail and destroys the picture. He'd come to earth to challenge the Ultra-Ancient Giant of Light as a last hurrah only to find earth peaceful when he arrived, and apologises for Mika. Kanata leaves telling Mika he respects her father, but cannot lend him Ultraman's power, Grace watches him leave but clutches his chest. Asanaga is explaining plans to properly test GUTS Gryphon once the Hawk is out of maintenance, an alert informs them of Red King rampaging in Natsumi City. Murahoshi orders Ryumon to fly GUTS Falcon while Kanata and Kirino assist evacuation. When Red King throws a building near the evacuees, Kanata summons Windom to hold the Kaiju off. Mika begs her father to take action and he summons his ring, transforming into Grace, initially doing well before being incapacitated by chest pains, GUTS-Select manages to stun it giving him the chance to fight it off, but he can't chase when it tunnels away, but the crowds cheer his name once more. Murahoshi thanks Grace personally, and seeing Mika's earnest desire to see her father in the ring again, shocks everyone by agreeing to be a challenge for him, as well as testing GUTS Gryphon. After lengthy training Murahoshi takes Kanata to by food for the team, spotting Mika, and discovering the food she's got is cheap free scraps, insists on cooking for the, instead. After Mika is in bed they cleanup, and Grace has another attack, explaining his fighting is catching up with him, he doesn't have much time left but wants to make her proud, and insists they not hold back tomorrow. Kanata is unsure if they should go ahead, but Murahoshi believes they should protect small happiness as much as bigger ones. Grave is faces by Kanata, Kirino and Ryumon on the ground with guns, Murahoshi in GUTS Hawk, Hanejiro in GUTS Gryphon, and Kaizaki and Asanaga in Nursedessei. The match is interrupted by the appearance of now Sphere-Red King. With some prompting from Hanejiro, Kanata becomes Decker, and signals the team to keep the match going while he handles things. The battle doesn't go well though despite using Strong-type, and Grace decides to concede so he can help him fight, GUTS-Select join, Murahoshi and Hanejiro combine GUTS Gryphon, but can't hit with the Hyper Thorn Laser due to Sphere-Red King holding Decker, Grace pushes him aside and holds Sphere-Red King, calling them to shoot, which they do, but Decker switches to Miracle-type, and initiating a Triple Mons Scram to have them pull Grace away from the attack. Mika is scared as her father collapses at her feet. Seeing the success of the Hyper Thorn Laser against Spheres, Asanaga is confident it can be equipped to the TPU's new robot, DG001. Murahoshi arranges TPU care for Grace, and privately tells Kanata there may be others trapped on earth by the Spheres they need to rung the Sky back for.

Geats: Keiwa tries to ask his sister about the monsters, but she thinks he was dreaming, and is now a fan of Ukiyo Ace, Star of the Stars of the Stars, beloved by many. As the DGP host presents him his belt again, she confirms that despite winning and getting the world where he's a superstar, he doesn't seem happy, which he denies, but notes there seems to be a limit to the kind of world they can create. Keiwa tests his Desire Driver and ID Core, and is with many others pulled to the arena, where Tsumuri welcomes everyone to the Desire Grand Prix, claiming their world os under threat from the Jyamato, and that they have no idea of where they come from or what they want, and created the Desire Grand Prix time fight them, memories reset after each competition, only those who receive ID Cores will remember. She asks each to write down the Desire they want now, before the game starts. The participants are put in a Jyamar area, and given the first mission, a treasure hunt, acquiring items from Jyamato. One guy refuses to team with Neon, but another agrees to as they start fighting. Ace quickly gets Water, testing out Geats Armed Water but unimpressed with the pressure and instead uses it for melee. Azuma doesn't intend to let him keep a lead. Keiwa is helped by another, who gets Arrow, Keiwa finds Boost, and is offering it to him when he recognises him as Taira, who rejected him for the position. He still put World Peace on his wish, Taira meanwhile seeks to save his son from an incurable illness. The DGP butler shows them to the lounge as they acquired items, Neon is already there, the two properly introducing, as is Azuma, noting they are now Tycoon and Na-Go. Ace arrives late with Shield as well, which Azuma mocks, to another's concern, who tries to trade his Shield for Magnum from the guy who refused Neon. A sudden alert informs that the Chief Jyamato has appeared, and so all without items are eliminated, leaving just those 7 to clear and move on. Also turns out Kamen Riders stay dead if killed. Tsumuri throws everyone into the field after auto henshining them, Neon's partner Koganeya Morio is Mary, Neon is Na-Go, Keiwa is Tycoon, Azuma is Buffa, the loner, Sumida Kanato is Da-Paan, Ace is Geats and Taira is Ginpen. As battle begins we get Mary Armed Shield, Na-Go Armed Hammer, Ginpen Armed Arrow, Da-Paan uses Armed Magnum, Buffa again has Armed Zombie, and Geats is using Armed Water. Tycoon doesn't understand how they can start fighting so easily, finding Taira's family photo as he is being overwhelmed, and watches the man be defeated. As Keiwa holds him, Taira's last words are regret for not being able to save his son. As Keiwa looks at the picture, Ace takes a moment to tell him if you want to change the world you have to fight, and claims to fight for the sake of the future of children, before leaping into battle. Keiwa tries to find his resolve, only for Ace to ask for the Boost item for the sake of the future, fight as Geats Boost Armed Water, then after more fighting Revolves for the finish. After he thanks Keiwa for believing his lie so he'd give him the Boost Buckle, Keiwa tries to snatch it back, but it flies off again. The game will continue when the Jyamato next appear, Keiwa taking a moment to ask if those lost in the DGP can be wished back, and finding a new resolve, as a doctor informs Taira's wife that they received an anonymous donation for their son's surgery from a certain nameless fox.

Donbrothers: InuBrother is helping the current Hitotsu-ki run with a painting, and is confronted by the other Donbrothers, and prepares to fight. Earlier Inuzaka was chased by cops, got away, the two discussing Sayama resigning, Inuzaka is then approached by Ijuuin Mizuho. She wants to be a Phantom Thief, and essentially blackmail Inuzaka into helping, she wants to steal the painting "Himitsu" by the late Aota Takeo, so single minded she becomes KagakuKi, Inuzaka changes, but notices she resists attacking people. She wants it because it was of her, and Takeo intended her to have it, but it was stolen. When word of it being put up for auction comes out, she plans to simply buy it, Kaito meanwhile asks Saruhara and Haruka to attend to buy it for Donbura, and Kijino is also there with his boss to buy for the president. As the auctioning picks up, Mizuho relefects on her relationship with Takeo modelling for him, eventually offering an exorbitant amount, but whennshe presents payment to the owner, Sano, Takeo's pupil, it is fake, and she grabs Inuzaka and the painting as KagakuKi to flee. When they're away, she insists it was a forgery. Sano requests Haruka and Saruhara guard the true "Himitsu" after getting a warning letter, claiming the imitation was sent by accident, and also asking Haruka to model for him. Thanks to InuBrother KagakuKi grabs the painting and runs, the others giving chase, leading back to the beginning. InuBrother gets the painting, but DonMomotaro and the just arrived Torabolt finish KagakuKi, forcing a team up on KagakuKing. Don Onitaijin and ToraDragonJin combine into ToraDora Onitaijin, uniting to defeat her. Mizuho burns the painting as Takeo had requested, deeming it a failure, but Inuzaka disagrees, feeling the man just didn't think his painting could capture his love, the secret being how much he loved her. Haruka present Kaito the painting of herself, he doesn't like it.

Girls Remix: Despite everything, Hana is still disheartened that Yuriko wasn't her sister, but Kanon and Sawa's explanation, that Kuroi Yuriko was kidnapped as a child by Black Satan, makes Hana understand that they're the same, victims of childhood kidnapping and indoctrination by evil organisations they came to believe in whole heartedly. Miss Titan tries to claim the moral highground, taking girls with no homes and raising them, but everyone points out that the brainwashing chips makes this evil, while Miss Titan believes in Black Satan fully after a Satan Bug possessed her when she had lost everything. As the guards become Black Satan Soldiers, Hana refuses to join them or accept their treatment of the other girls, and so Kamen Riders Jeanne, Aguilera, Sabela, Zero-Two and Poppy step forward, each fighting showing their own skills. Apparently Makoto is feeling overprotective and hid the Kanon Spectre Eyecon, but that doesn't stop Kanon, Sawa and Akiko handling some troops too. Miss Titan starts fighting Jeanne and Sabela, while Aguilera tries to handle Black Tackle, after being hit by finishers Miss Titan takes on a Hyakume Titan form. The civilians celebrate their work, and are joined by Lovekov, when more troops appear they are saved by the sudden arrival of the Faiz Phone X wielding, future resistance warrior reincarnated in the present day, Tsukuyomi Alpina. In universe it's been about 3 years since we past saw her, since she was still in school in 7 Zi-Os. She becomes Kamen Rider Tsukuyomi and joins the fray. Villains are defeated, but Black Tackle is still overpowering Aguilera, telling her to have the family she wants by joining them, but Aguilera knows now what a real family is like from the Igarishi's, and can't leave Yuriko like this, charging her with Lovekov. Seeing Black Tackle is losing, Miss Titan orders her to use the last resort, the Ultra Cyclone. Despite accepting her death she tells Hana she enjoyed having her as a sister for a moment, but they aren't having especially seeing Miss Titan throw her aside, so Jeanne grabs Black Tackle and Aguilera Rider Kicks the helmet to break it and stop the Ultra Cyclone. The riders unite to defeat Miss Titan, after which Rinko arrives to arrest Fujimoto Mitsuko, her true identity. Hana and Sakura tell Yuriko she is free, Hana promising to be there for her sister if she needs her, and the three share a hug. Sawa's article was a big hit, and her publisher arranges a photoshoot with the girls focusing on strong women, where Hana makes a bashful and totally unnecessary apology for her behaviour early on. After the photoshoot Hana and Sakura argue over which of them would be the Oneesan.

Futo PI: A bomb cyclone hit Futo while Shotaro and Phillip were gathering mushrooms in the mountains. At the agency, Mick has taken a liking to Tokime, and Terui is there wanting to share intel after Mihara was murdered, fearing a new threat is blooming. Stranded as they are, Shotaro and Phillip are found by a woman who leads them to a warm mansion, and goes to request the owner allow them sanctuary until the blizzard is over. She asks they tell no one they've seen her face, then later leads them to a room where a social gathering is taking place, everyone within is masked. The old woman, Kagamino Kiku is trying to select from the 4 beautiful masked women a suitable bride for her grandson, Kagamino Kuya, which is shared after Shotaro notes the oddness of the situation. The area, Kiritoshi, used to be a popular gold mining hot springs area, but is largely abandoned now save for the family and their fortune, the masks are to ensure the bride is chosen for personality not looks. They're allowed shelter, meaning between Kuya and Kiku, the 4 bride candidates, Shotaro, Phillip, the butler and a not present guest of Kiku's, 10 people total in the Manor. The two are given masks as well. As they eat a generous meal, Phillip is deflated to find they're being served mushrooms of the sort they were stranded finding. They meets the last guest, art dealer Kanamori Daisuke, in truth Bando, somewhat troubled to find himself trapped in the same place as the Kamen Riders. A restless Shotaro finds the girl who saved them, who suddenly tells him she's Kubokura Kanna and doesn't care about marrying anymore, asking him to save her, before, suddenly running off. Shotaro runs outside, finding one of the candidates in a kimono impaled on a tree, and a Dopant glad one candidate is out of the way. Vat ans Stav save him from an attack as Phillip turns up, and they become W. Their attacks do nothing, the Dopant revelling in pleasure and spraying light at them, and W switches to HeatJoker, as Phillip determines the Memory is Alcohol. They ignite the Dopant, but it keeps attacking, alcohol numbing the pain, before it runs back to the mansion. Next day they request permission to investigate and, away room Kuya's eyes, the identities of the remaining candidates. The butler is Kimura Tadashi, the victim, Zaizen Koyomi, was an apprentice geisha, in a cheongsam is Nanba Kurumi, a hospitality expert, in the black dress is Arito Kei, a gravure idol, while Kurokawa is an office worker, and he wonders what it was she was warning him about.

[thetravellingvagrant]

Day 1- Glasgow/Warsaw: In Which I Rob The Post Office Again

Long time readers of this blog- all two of them- will likely be acutely aware of phenomenon I have come to refer to as the 'first day curse'. For new readers- all none of them- this curse strikes, as you might expect, on the first day of my trip and, without exception, turns what should, for all intents and purposes, be the most exciting part of my journey into an unrelentingly shitty maelstrom of sadness and fuck. Be it getting dragged around a museum of the European Parliament while about six hours beyond my elastic limit of staying awake; getting turned away from my couchsurfing host's apartment for several hours, to fend off cold and blisters by a diminutive racist; accidentally committing a home invasion or just getting fucked time after time by bastard taxi drivers, who seem to make it their business to ruin my life, the FDC is ever-present and ever-shitty in this Vagrant life of mine.

But not this year. I was determined to swerve that bullshit however I could, this time; my journey to  Warsaw, the first stop of this trip, had been planned to a tee; I had managed to finagle an honest-to-God lift to the airport with my very helpful mother, nearly entirely eliminating the possibility of missing my flight, which I seem to manage to do, each and every time I fly by myself and perhaps, most important of all, as detailed in my last entry, I had already basically had my FDC this year, with the absolute shit-show of a day I had had, trying to get my passport sorted. Surely the travel-gods would see this as enough penance to let me pass both unhindered and unfucked into Vagrancy, for once. Just once, travel-gods. Be cool. Jesus.

I woke up bright and early, or at least early, in my own lovely bed for what will be the last time for almost a month and quickly set about mopping up the remaining tasks on my to-do list for the trip, including- but not limited to- faffing around trying to get the export settings right on Adobe's Premier Pro for a video I had been working on (which, let me tell you, is a lot of fun to do under pressure and with a strict time-limit), general packing of way more things than I need and having a series of increasingly severe mini-breakdowns.

While my flight didn't leave until 7:30pm, I regardless found myself with little time to spare in my flat, due to my having an unavoidable dentist's appointment (whose office, those of you who read the previous entry will know, is located close to my parent's house and is therefore some distance from my flat) at two in the afternoon.

By some miracle, I finished my to-do list, or at least the most important items on it in reasonably good time, or at least in enough time to still make it to the appointment if I hurried and caught a bus to the train station and so bid my cat a remarkably brief, though no less tearful than usual farewell

I won’t miss you.

And was quickly on my way to have my teeth all messed about. Hurrah.

Trips to the dentist, I'm aware, aren't usually regarded as a particularly pleasant thing, regardless, but holy shit, was this ever not a pleasant trip to the dentist. The appointment lasted a full hour (fifteen minutes longer than was scheduled, which was very helpful on a day when time was so limited for me) and consisted almost entirely of having the inflamed pulp inside one of my teeth jabbed at with a needle, which uh, yeah, isn't too great, let me tell you. The little cherry on top of the bakewell tart of shit that had been my orthodontic experience was the anaesthetic injection in my gums: it seemed that I was to spend the rest of my day with my face entirely numb in, apparently, every part of it except the bits that hurt. I was also told to expect my tooth to ache like buggery during my flight. So that was a treat.

A bit shaken and now behind schedule, I left the dentist to return to my parent's house briefly to pick up my passport, check in for my impending flight and to put some music and podcasts on my phone so as not to be terribly bored for the rest of my evening.

Ryanair do a lot of shit wrong- Like a lot- but I've got to say that being able to check in and get my boarding pass on my phone is a nice touch, or at least one that just about finally brings them level with other, better airlines in literally just that one aspect. Or...at least it should have been...

I entered my details into the app, triumphantly pressed 'continue' with an uncharacteristic arrogance for someone dealing with anything to do with Ryanair and...an error occurred. For god's sake, Ryanair, pull your shit together. I pressed the button again, my confidence slightly dented, but still in tact. Error. Umm.

“Okay...” I thought, “so the app's not working. I suppose I can always go and physically print the passes like some fucking caveman”.

I loaded the Ryanair website, my confidence now all but entirely replaced with pure vexation and...it wasn't there. Not my boarding pass- the website. It was down for maintenance and apparently had been for some time- days in fact. Indeed with a quick Google, I learned that it was national (albeit quite tabloidy) news that this website was down. People physically couldn't check in for their flights and were being stung for £55 for it when they arrived at the airport because of it, while Ryanair, in an ostrichian level display of burying their heads in the sand were maintaining through all this that the website was up, running and fully functional despite clear empirical evidence to the contrary.

I checked my phone. I needed to leave; I still had to pick up a travel money card at the post office and get some food before I headed to the airport and had no more time to spare, angrily pressing 'continue' over and over again, sighing a little louder each time it didn't work.

My mother and I bundled ourselves and my luggage into her car and drove quickly to a nearby town. I darted off into the post office for my card and she into Morrisons to buy some very delicious food for me, which was very nice of her, even if I was in far too bad a mood to properly acknowledge it at the time.

I had realised, some time prior, that I had also managed to forget my gloves. Given that I'd be travelling to basically Russia in the winter and realising that historically that can go poorly, I was understandably a little worried about this. It came as a genuinely nice surprise then to find that the post office sold nice gloves at he very reasonable price of £1.50 a pair. I grabbed two sets (for layering purposes) and headed to the till. I obtained my travel money card fairly effortlessly (#humblebrag) and left with it and my gloves in hand. So to speak. Wait, shit- I had been so wrapped up in getting the card and dwelling on the unbelievable amount of garbage that had been slopped on top of me throughout the day that I had actually forgotten to pay for not one, but two pairs of gloves, thereby robbing the post office for the second time in a week. Charles Bronson got life for that so I'm lucky to have gotten away with it.  Anyway, sorry post office. Again...

Travel money card, several pairs of stolen gloves and some very delicious food now obtained, my mother and I set off, finally, to Edinburgh airport. As we drove, I continued mashing the Ryanair app, desperately looking for signs of life, my already critically low optimism dwindling even further as I did. On the verge of giving up, the two hour cut off point for obtaining boarding passes looming within mere minutes, the app spluttered up all the water it had swallowed in that devastating surfing accident and took a deep, ragged breath. It wasn't much and being clinically dead for as long as it was, only to come back to life would clearly lead to massive brain damage, but that was all I needed to get my foot in the door and my grubby mitts on my boarding pass. I was overjoyed, though, and I've said this before of Easyjet, when you're made this happy by a service being offered simply working as advertised, that really does speak poorly of how high the bar is set for your company...

We ended up arriving at Edinburgh airport in genuinely quite good time, which was...surprising, considering how my day had been going, to say the least. My mother and I shared a tearful goodbye or I'm sure we at least would have done, if she wasn't so concerned about the cost of her stay in the drop-off zone going up the longer she stayed there and with a single punch on the arm in lieu of a hug, I was off.

I navigated the airport security with ease for once, with my bag and genitals left unfondled by surly old security guards and sat down in the duty-free costa with some time to spare. Despite having a bag of, and I really must stress this, like crazy delicious food with me, I decided to treat myself to a warm panini and a hot chocolate as due to a combination of needing to rush in the morning and having to wait after dental work in the afternoon, I hadn't yet eaten. As I chewed, using only the right side of my mouth, through my pigs-under-blanket panini and sipped my a-little-too-hot hot chocolate, I reflected. It seemed that the first day curse had regardless struck me once more, despite my best efforts to the contrary as, to be totally honest, I had had a pretty cack day. Still, at least I wasn't going to almost miss my flight, for once.

Oh, right, shit, my flight...

I looked at the time- the gate was closing. I'd spent too long reflecting like some genius prilosopher might... I pushed the rest of the panini into my already overstuffed mouth and forced it down with the remainder of my drink, burning my tongue quite badly in the process (probably considerably less like a genus philosopher might...) and sped off towards the gate. I don't know how I managed to get myself into this situation, but I now found myself in not insubstantial danger of missing my flight, despite having literally been inside the airport for the past hour and a half.

I approached my gate doing that kind of half-walk-half-trot thing that people do when they're in a hurry, but are still unwilling to go full-run.

“Are you going to Warsaw?!” a flight attendant, standing by the gate shouted to me, from some distance away

“Uh, yeah!” I replied, breathlessly.

Even as far apart as we were, I could tell that her face wore a look of mixed shock and pity

“...You'll have to hurry, then, they're getting ready to take off!”

I went full run. I charged through the gate and onto the plane as quickly as I could, stored my probably slightly too large bit of luggage in the overhead lockers (incidentally, being very, very late for a flight is a great way to get the attendants to conveniently forget to check the size of your bag) and sat down, sweating, dishevelled and manic to the demonstrable disappointment of my new seat-neighbour. I honestly don't blame him.

After an uncharacteristically pleasant flight, barring some minor air-pressure-related toothache, I was spat out into Warsaw Modlin airport and found myself almost immediately on a bus to the city centre. I'm not quite sure how I managed this, as by this point it was around 11:30 at night, I was still in pain, hadn't slept particularly well the previous night and was, by now, flagging badly, but I assume it was some kind of lovely witchcraft. Thanks, lovely witchcraft.

Once in Warsaw, proper, I quickly darted to the central station, which, through my very careful planning both my bus stop and hostel were adjacent to. Despite it pushing midnight, the station was still open and, although all I really wanted to do was go to bed, I thought it prudent to buy my ticket for tomorrow's early morning train journey to Belarus as soon as possible. I took my place in the queue, or at least what looked like a queue. The woman behind the counter appeared to be reading some kind of document on her computer; a strange thing to do, I thought, with a line of seven or so people, steadily climbing in number, waiting specifically for her attention. She continued to read this document and sip her coffee for the next forty minutes or so. It was dangerously close to 1:00am and I was dangerously close to putting the entire idea of getting a ticket before morning in a big flaming bin before she deigned to start actually doing her job and serving people again. Albeit slowly. I bumbled through buying my ticket in the most 'me' way possible (awkwardly, quietly and tinged with rage) and left for my hostel, head shaking in disbelief and body aching for sleep.

After a scant ten minute walk through the pervasively freezing Polish night, I had arrived. The door had been left ajar for me by the night-receptionist, who greeted me with a nod. I nodded back, somehow accidentally yanking the door closed in front of myself in the process. Great. Good start. I had managed to lock myself out of the hostel before even getting inside. With an audible sigh, even through the locked door, the receptionist forced herself out of her chair to re-open it for me. I apologised as I stepped inside. She started back at me blankly, apparently not speaking enough English to respond. She pointed to a clipboard sitting on her desk; on it were written the names of everyone checking in that night. I pointed to my own name and she led me to my room.

As she opened the door I was hit by an ungodly stench; a sickly sweet combination of feet, body odour and death. I wretched as quietly as my body would allow me to, unsure whether to tough it out and try to get used to the smell or just hold my breath all night.

The receptionist flicked the light on. An audible groan came from one of the bunks as the more irritable of my roommates was woken up by this. The receptionist pointed me to my bed and left. It was the bunk above the angry man. In a room of six beds, only three of which were occupied, including mine, it seemed that they had opted to put us as close to one another as we could physically fucking get, without sharing a bunk, which is honestly exactly what everyone wants in a hostel, anyway, so good show.

Not wanting to be 'that guy', I flicked the light off and, as quietly as I could, put my stuff away. I was hungry again, by this point and so decided to go and sit in the hostel's kitchen and eat some of my, as yet untouched, unbelievably delicious Morrisons swag. I grabbed my bag and headed out into the hostel's halls, quickly realising that there was no kitchen or indeed dining area of any kind. There was a toilet that stank perpeptually and very strongly of shit and a receptionist whose disdain for me seemed to only grow each time she laid eyes on me, but no kitchen. Unwilling to rustle sandwich containers and crisp packets on the top bunk of a sleeping man who genuinely may have hated me, I put the idea in a big flaming bin and opted to just go to bed, having eaten once and drank little more than a hot chocolate throughout the entire day.

I re-entered the bedroom as stealthily as possible, given the sleep I had had and realised all too quickly that the bed hadn't actually been made. They expected me to do that for myself, which, let's be totally honest here a) is among the last things I want to do when I'm exhausted and physically fatigued from travelling, b)is like super, super disruptive to the other people in the room and c) probably should already have been done before my arrival, right? I mean that's like hospitality 101.

With little recourse but to do it myself, though, I did just that. Shockingly, I did not manage to do it particularly quietly and even more shockingly than that, Mr. Angry didn't seem to appreciate my inability to noiselessly prepare my own bed at past-one-in-the-morning.

After some bumbling around with sheets, my bed was ready, or as ready as I could be bothered making it. I grabbed the ladder to my bunk and hoisted myself up onto it. The entire bed shook, unsecured bits of metal rattled against one another and the entire thing bent considerably on its axis. I don't know if you've seen the viral video of several hundred squeaky rubber chickens being pushed down on all at once, which made the rounds a year or two ago, but that was uncannily what it sounded like, except louder, deeper and sadder. I was one rung up the ladder.

Out of options, there was little I could do but push on- one thousand terrified chickens screaming in pain with every step, until finally I was in my bunk. The noise didn't abate, even then, ringing out, entirely undampened with every tiny movement I made, but at least the bed had stopped rocking back and forth like a tiny, shitty, uncomfortable boat.

Once actually in my bunk, the room's other issues began to make themselves apparent. While the bed did have barriers on the far side from the wall, these barriers were similarly flimsy to the rest of the structure and were so insignificant and strangely placed so as to do literally nothing to stop all my stuff falling off the bed during the night. The side of the bed pressed against the wall had no barriers whatsoever, instead opting for the 'sheer drop' approach, which obviously wouldn't have been an issue had it not been for the bed being positioned approximately a foot and a half away from the wall for absolutely no good reason. As it stood, it was fairly likely that my phone would fall off one side of the bed during the night and my body the other. My best efforts to counteract this came in the form of neatly folding my trousers and placing them under my pillow, with my phone nestled in the back pocket: in this way it was unlikely to be knocked to the floor in the night and I could still hear my alarm, even with earplugs in. And let me tell you, boy howdy did I ever need earplugs. Mr. Angry wasn't my only roommate- I was sharing with one other person as well. Actually, I say person, but I never did get a very good look at them and honestly, from the noises they were making during the night, you could have been forgiven for thinking that what I was actually bunking down with was a pig being butchered with a chainsaw. The noise was honestly inhuman; wet, droning slurps and gurgles emanated constantly from the far side of the room and cut straight to my core, regardless of how deep I pushed my lovely and usually very effective gummy earplugs into my terrible, broken brainbox. Combined with my squeaking chicken bed and that fucking smell, it was honestly a bit like going to sleep in an abattoir. An abattoir with no power outlets.

How's that for a Trip Advisor review?

[magic5ball]

Nature Trail to Hell Arc III: The Blood Curse of Tako Shak

Chapter 1: Roadside Hysteria

As the saying goes, I went into the Underworld a midget, came out a giant. At least, I think that’s a saying. I also came out covered in wood dust and all those other things you get from falling through a ceiling, but that’s not the point. Anyway, when F-Bomb and I got up, I realized I’d smashed a house under my foot. Now normally, in these types of situations, I’d have no idea where I was, but this place, tiny as it was, actually looked too familiar. Back when I was a nano-Watt, my parents would take me to this toy train museum out in the country. We did this so many times, I memorized the whole way there. So I can swear on my Mother’s grave I tell you the truth when I say this looked exactly like the Pennsylvanian countryside, complete with horse and buggies, anthracite mines, old timey towns, and in the distance, the perfect view of the Statue of Liberty.

“Oh. My. God!” I gasped. “F-Bomb, I think we went through puberty!”

To which my good friend slapped my face with his free hand (the other was cradling a much worse for wear Sailor Moon) “No, we didn’t get growth spurts, Turd. I mean really,” he cried, picking up a tree. “These stupid things don’t even go up to our ankles. Did you honestly think people grew like that?!”

I opened my mouth to speak.

“On second thought, I don’t need an answer. You’re Turd, of course you thought it was some kinda growth spurt.”

“Well, we were in the Underworld a pretty long time.” I said, tipping over the world’s most adorable little water tower “Maybe the world just shrunk while we were away.”

“Watt, Watt, Watt. That’s not how it works. Everyone knows time works different in the Underworld. What was weeks to us down there was probably only a few days up here. Besides”

He pointed to the horizon. “Last I heard, the Pennsylvania countryside wasn’t protected by childproof glass!”

“So… what are you saying?”

F-Bomb glared at me “Do I REALLY have ta spell it out for ya, Turd?! Look around. Since when did planes just fly around in circles?! Attached to wires?! Since when did this country have trains from five different decades riding around at the same time?!” He pointed to the miniature houses, filled with smiling, laughing couples with their kids. “Since when did this country have so many functional relationships?!”

Before F-Bomb could finish, the sky grew dark (well, except where we’d fallen through the roof) and a spotlight illuminated the giant Statue of Liberty. In the distance, the most angelic voice I ever heard belted out ‘God bless America’. It was so beautiful, a single tear crept down my face. But like all things beautiful and patriotic, it couldn’t last. A minute later, it was morning again.

“A-and THAT THING just happened! Don’t you get it, we’re in some kind of model train display!”

I wanted to protest, come up with some witty comeback line, but I had nothing. F-Bomb was right. As much as I wanted this to be real, there was no way the real America would ever be this patriotic.

           Good thing an army of thimble sized people started marching out of their homes, gathering around us like ants at a picnic, or I mighta gotten depressed. F-Bomb looked down at the miniature horde gathered at our feet. Outwardly, he was his usual hard clawed, serious self, but inside I could tell he was thrilled to see someone even smaller than him for once.

“Who the fork are you weenies?” He exhaled from his nostrils was so strong it blew some of them into the next county, all of five feet away.

At the front of this group was a bearded guy wearing a straw hat, suspenders, and several other fashion choices that the 1800’s were inevitably gonna call and demand back. In fact, everyone was dressed in clothes my Grandma probably picked out of the Goodwill bin when she was little.

“Greetings, good neighbor! It is I, Abraham Fisher, good disciple of the Heavenly Father. And I thank you and the heavenly, the merciful, the almighty Lord for coming to our aid!”

The crowd erupted into cheering. In the back, several couples burst into tears and started hugging each other.

Confused yet? Because I sure was. In fact, I almost voiced my confusion, but before I could say ‘What the heck is going on here?’ F-Bomb had already connected the dots and shut me up good. Now, before we continue, just know that the Deinono are known for being the greatest grifters in the Underworld (at least, on their turf) because, man, did F-Bomb pull the grift of an (after) lifetime! I’ll try to word it best I can, but trust me, it was a lot more believable when he said it.

First, he took his hands and spread them out like he was peeling back an invisible curtain.

“Dang straight, worldly peons! It is I, Archangel Michael, sent by the Heavenly Father himself to smite the evil that besieges this unhallowed realm! And with me are Jesus Christ” he pointed to me and my dumbfounded face “and the Virgin Mary!”

“I knew it!” Cheered an amish kid, pointing at my underworld souvenir. “‘Tis the same shirt he wore during the resurrection!”

The crowd let out another hurrah! All except for some schmoe in the back with a raised hand. F-Bomb pointed to him. “O heavenly child, speak up!”

“N-not to be t-that guy, but why is the Virgin Mary dressed in such a small miniskirt? Surely such a revealing outfit is blasphemous in the eyes of the almighty Lord!”

But just as whispers started to bubble through the crowd, F-Bomb was already twenty steps ahead. I was just wondering how the fork the guy who used to drop twenty F-Bombs a sentence learned so many big boy words, and made a mental note to ask him for help on my next spelling test (if I ever went back to school, that is).

“Ah, but she is wearing a dress long enough to reach the floor, in fact. But such a dress can only be seen by those most pure of heart and free of heinous, lustful thoughts most foul!”

Though nobody said a word after that, many soft prayers could be heard in the back.

“So why is it, O devout children, that we have been called here?!”

The nerd who called himself Abraham bowed his head so low I’m surprised it didn’t go through his legs.

“Archangel Michael, what ails the good folk is a crisis most dire!” He gestured toward an enormous (at least, by their standards) mountain in the middle of the countryside. On second glance, I realized it was one of those slanted doors you see outside of cellars all the time, just covered in green fabric and fake trees. “A terrible giant arises from the depths of Hell and takes away our trains!”

“And what, exactly, does he do to these trains?”

“Oh, it’s terrible. They come back, but when they do, they’re all polished and shiny! Worse, they come back… WORKING AGAIN!”

The shock and horror displayed by the citizens at this was so ridiculous F-Bomb nearly broke character. “And this is bad because…?”

“Do you not see, O Archangel? We are the good folk! It is our duty to reject fancy things and embrace self-sufficiency, which this demon has taken from us! And, he comes from below. Therefore, how can he not be evil?!”

The crowd nodded in agreement.

“Very well, peons! The Lord looks kindly at you on this day! We shall smite the evil and drive it back to where it came from!”

No sooner had we said this then the steel doors of the mountain opened, revealing…

A repair guy.

           For a moment he stared at us the way I’d stare at the chalkboard whenever the class started doing long division. Then he took a cellphone the size of a cinderblock out of his dirty overalls.

“Hello, security? There’s a kid in the middle of the layout with some kind of –Ooouuugggh!”

F-Bomb wasted no time delivering a claw to the guy’s face.

“O fouled hellspawn, God has sent you a message, and that message is DEATH!”

The cellphone skidded across the ground, not stopping until it ran through a town, probably causing half a million in property damage.

“You take care of the rest!” F-Bomb shrieked, heading for the phone.

            I got real nervous from that one, let ,e tell you! I may be Christian, but I barely knew a thing about old Mr. Christ, other than that I got my middle name him, and if my Dad was so eager to name me after the guy, he must be important to some degree. Maybe he invented puppies? I wasn’t sure. What I did know was that I couldn’t let the cheering thongs at my feet lose faith in their religion, so I did what most little kids would do in this situation: I realized I didn’t have to be Christ, I just had to deliver divine justice my own way.

And nothing said ‘justice delivered’ quite like pumping a janitor full of underworld lead, curtesy of my tommy gun..

The crowd cheered as blood flowed from the body, forming little, then very big lakes at the foot of tiny mountains. I opened the door in the mountains and put him under before the poor guy flooded the whole countryside.

Meanwhile, F-Bomb was busy on the phone, imitating the maintenance guy’s voice so well I almost thought the guy had come back from the dead.

“Yes, sir! Everything’s bo diddley! Oh, don’t mind me, that screaming earlier was just a… cramp? And no, that’s not a crowd cheering over a dead body in the background. Crazy what static will make you hear!” With that, F-Bomb hung up, triumphant.

Together, we looked at the lands we had arrived in, from the Statue of liberty to the little pueblo villages in the back. We had defeated a great evil, and saved it all. At our feet, the tiny citizens of this world bowed their heads.

“O, mighty emissaries of the Lord, O great vanquishers of evil, is there anything we can do to show our gratitude?”

F-Bomb put a claw to his chin as his face contorted into a hideous upward sickle that I think was supposed to be smiling. “Anything, you say? Well in that case, I and Mr. Heavenly Son over here could really use a foot massage…”

[jhope-seok]

The First & The Last (Reader POV)

Disclaimer: All of the things mentioned in this story are all works of fiction and have been made up by me, the author.  I did not intend to make anything based on real life, and any coincidences to real life are purely coincidences.

Genre: Smut / J-hope X reader / College!AU / House Party / Rough Sex? / Kinky?

Inspiration: This video (gif taken from video -- gif made by @xwonho​) & this picture

@1leeminhyuk​ Request: “You show up at his house party and you never show up to parties because you’re a good person and you keep to yourself, pure or whatever, and Hoseok sees you and he’s like ‘Damn I need a piece of that.’”

Length: 9,092 words

Masterlist | Hoseok's POV

“Y/N, come on! You haven't gone out to a party in almost two years. We're already buzzed, and this’ll be the biggest party of the year. And besides, we're seniors! Who knows when we'll get to do this again?” Your best friend, who was also your roommate, was trying very hard to convince you to go out with the rest of your friends. You had spent the last several hours nursing quite a few beers in your house on campus while the pair of you watched reruns of random reality tv shows. She had turned the tv off abruptly when she got a text from your other friends about this party.

“Please don't, you know I hate parties. I hate the loud music, I hate the people, it's not my thing. Especially because if I wanted to get drunk, dance, and listen to music, I'd do that here on my own,” you exasperated. “I don't want random guys to think that they can hit on me because I'm in a tight dress. It's gross and infuriating.”

Your best friend nodded and sighed. “I know. I get what you're saying. If you feel uncomfortable I'll make sure to be by your side all night so nothing happens” she reached over and grabbed your arm. “We've had how many conversations about your stance on random sex? I understand. I'm not pressuring you go to this party because I want you to get laid. I want you to go out and have one last fun night before we graduate and it’s too late.”

You two have been friends since the first day of college. You had been random roommates freshman year, but you got along so well that you had decided to live together for the rest of college. You were inseparable, but you were nothing alike. She was the life of the party and unabashed about her one night stands, while you were quiet and more reserved. It had been a long time since your last relationship, and you were less keen on hooking up with a guy you knew nothing about. Although when she wanted to be persuasive she was, and that’s what you loved the most about her. Sometimes she pushed you to do things you wouldn’t do, and most of the time you wound up enjoying it.

You groaned. “Okay, fine, but if any dude so much as touches me without my permission, I'm slapping him.” She laughed and clapped her hands.

“Deal! Now let's go get you ready!” She patted your leg before getting up and leaving the living room. You chuckled to yourself, following her up to your room. She was already sifting through your closet when you got there and you stood in the doorway watching her. She mumbled to herself, sorting through your clothes to find which outfit would be the best for you to wear.

You wouldn’t call yourself a goodie-two-shoes, but you definitely weren’t a “bad” girl. You got good grades, you always did your homework, even if it wasn’t graded or didn’t count towards your final grade. You believed that everything mattered and you wanted to learn as much as possible. So this meant that you weren’t “experiencing college” as your friends might have wished you to, especially when it came to dating.

Your friends told you that you shouldn’t be ashamed of the fact that you didn’t sleep around and you weren’t. Albeit when your closest friends talked about the amazing sex they’d had, you felt a little left out and curious. Wanting to know what it was like to have sex with someone and then leave them the next morning and pretend they never existed. You had curiosities that extended beyond emotionless sex, things you'd seen in porn or heard about. Despite that, whenever you tried to be like them you always found yourself attached.

Your best friend finally let out a small yell when she found the perfect dress, hidden in the way back of your closet. “Yes! This is it! You're gonna look so good,” she exclaimed turning around to show you what she'd picked out.

Your eyes bugged out of your head when you saw what she had picked. It was a white dress, with cutouts around the waist and a plunging neckline. You knew it was going to show a lot of skin and a lot of boob.

She stuck it out towards you. “Remember what you said? If they touch you, you'll slap them. And I will be by your side ALL NIGHT so they don't get the wrong idea,” she shook it a little bit. “You've never worn this and I want to see you strut your stuff in this baby. You're not wearing this for the boys you'd be wearing this for you! And maybe a little bit for me,” she mumbled the last sentence.  “You're finally going out and I want you to be able to flaunt what you’ve got!”

You glared at her. “Seriously? That's the lie you're going to pull on me?”

She shook the dress at you again. “Y/N, PLEASE. You never go out and you never ever show what you're made of. Like I said, I promise to be by your side the ENTIRE night. I will not let any creepy dude touch you or even hit on you. You know that if any guy approaches you I will, in a heartbeat, pretend to be your girlfriend and chase them away. And if you need to slap them I'll be right there cheering you on,” she clutched the dress to her body. “So, please. For me. I just want to see you wear this dress once.”

You let out a loud sigh and a curt laugh. “You're something else, you know that?” She looked at you through her eyelashes with her head tilted down, and hesitantly held the dress out again. “I hate you,” you said as you grabbed the dress out of her hands. She rushed you into a hug and made you jump up and down with her.

She rushed out of your room to go get herself ready. When she left, you closed the door behind her. You walked back to stand in front of your mirror and held the dress up to your body and sighed deeply.

“This is going to be a bad idea, I just know it,” you thought to yourself as you tried to picture yourself in this dress. “But maybe she's right. Maybe I should go out once more before I graduate. Maybe I should flaunt what I've got. Why not?”

After several minutes of contemplating with yourself, you gave in and put on the dress. When you looked at yourself in the mirror again you couldn't believe that you were looking at yourself. You thought you would hate the way it made you look, but you actually loved the way the cutouts perfectly showcased the skin above your hips. Plus, the way it hugged your curves made your tits look amazing, and that was never a bad thing.

“Maybe if there's a really nice, cute guy at this party I'll see where things go,” you thought to yourself, twisting the ends of your hair in your fingers. You hadn’t realized how long you’d been standing there, admiring yourself in the mirror, when your best friend came busting back into your bedroom. “Are you ready?!” she screamed.

You gave yourself one last once over in the mirror and then nodded. “I think so,” you said hesitantly. She moved to stand beside you and gestured to you in the mirror. “Honey, you look amazing. It’s gonna be a girls night out and we’re gonna have one last hurrah before we graduate,” she grabbed your hand and squeezed. “It’s going to be great.”

You trusted her that she wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you and so you took a deep breath and said, “Alright. Let’s go.” You grabbed a pair of heels that you knew you were going to regret later.

She dragged you out of the house and across campus to the party. When you arrived at the house you couldn’t hide the fact that you were shocked. This was the biggest house on campus, and you’d only ever driven past it a few times. You had heard the stories about the parties that were thrown here, but you never imagined actually going to one.

The rumor was that the guy who lived here was super rich, and his parents paid for him to live in this luxurious house off campus so he didn’t have to live in the dirty dorm rooms. At least, that’s what you had heard. You had never seen the guy who lived here, and if you had you wouldn’t have paid too much attention to him due to the fact that everything you heard about him made him seem high maintenance.

When you walked through the front door your mouth only hung open wider. The inside was even bigger than the outside, if that was even possible. There was an enormous staircase right in the middle of the floor that led to an upper level, but besides the staircase there was minimal furniture. There were no couches, save for a few in one corner, and the entire space filled with bodies, swaying to the music that was being blasted through the largest set of speakers you’d ever seen. The beat reverberated through your chest and you had to close your eyes for a second to stop the wave of anxiety you could feel crashing over you.

When you opened your eyes again, you noticed on the left side of the room there was a bar with actual bartenders behind it serving people drinks. The thought crossed your mind that you hadn’t brought any money with you to pay for drinks, but when you saw a girl walk away from the counter with a large bottle of champagne without paying, you mentally kicked yourself. “Obviously it’s free, the dude’s parents probably paid with all this money. Daddy’s credit card.” Your roommate grabbed your arm and dragged you over to the bar. You wondered how you were ever going to find the rest of your friends in this, but your roommate seemed focused on getting drinks first.

While you two were making your trek over to other side of the room you heard a voice shout loudly, “Hey, hot stuff!” You panicked for a moment, thinking that this mysterious voice was talking to you. Yet when you took a chance to glance around you, you realized all of the girls around you were much more beautiful than you, and dressed much less conservatively, if you could even call your own outfit such. You took a deep breath and gave in to your roommates incessant pulling, reminding yourself that nothing bad was going to happen tonight. Your roommate had promised you that much.

When you finally pushed your way through the bodies surrounding the bar, your roommate asked for four shots of tequila and two bottles of champagne. “Y/BF/N!” you shouted. “I’m definitely not drinking all of that!”

She laughed and hit your arm lightly, “Please, Y/N, don’t pretend you don’t love champagne and tequila. You’re already out, now just enjoy yourself!” When the bartender came back with the requested alcohol she clinked her tequila shot with yours and threw hers back, with a small cheer afterwards.

You rolled your eyes and decided, “Why not?” and threw your shot back as well. When she clinked the second shot of tequila with yours you didn’t hesitate to take it and let out your own little cheer. The bartender had already opened the bottles of champagne for you and she grabbed hers and handed you yours.

“Here’s to senior year!” she yelled taking a big swig of alcohol out of hers. You followed suit, trying to let the alcohol do the work and loosen you up. You hoped it would lessen your anxiety about being at such a large party with so many people, and so far with what little time had passed, and with the help of your earlier beers, you could tell it was starting to work.

Your roommate grabbed your arm and led you towards the dance floor. You were reluctant to follow her, not exactly trusting of the rest of the people on the dance floor, but she stopped close to the edge of the mass of people, turned to you and started moving. You thought about asking her about the rest of your friends, but you thought better of it, hoping to stay on the outskirts of the party.

She grabbed your hip with her free hand and pushed your body along to the music. You were hesitant at first, so you took another large swig of your champagne and tried to let the alcohol fuel your dancing. As you loosened up more, you took several more swigs of alcohol and started to move more freely, trusting that your best friend would watch over you. Soon after, out of nowhere you heard that same voice again, but this time it was much closer.

“Hey baby! There you are! You ran away from me!” You turned towards the voice, your anxiety creeping back through your alcohol-induced haze, scared for what would happen if that voice was actually talking to you.

Your eyes landed on some guy in what had to be the most ridiculous outfit you’d ever seen walking towards you, pushing through the crowd. He was wearing dark jeans, a white shirt, with what seemed to be a red silk suit jacket, and a long purple velvet coat. He had on reflective sunglasses as well, which made you scoff. “Who wears sunglasses indoors at a party at night?” You thought to yourself.

He walked right up to you and placed his hands on your waist. “Baby, where have you been all my life?” He said pulling himself closer to you.

“Excuse me?!” you exclaimed, pushing him away.

“Come on baby, don’t be like that,” he huffed, wrapping his hands back around your waist, letting them rest on the top of your ass.

You hadn’t even been at the party for fifteen minutes, and this was already happening. You saw your best friend out of the corner of your eye take a step closer to you, ready to step in. But you didn’t give her a chance to.

You pushed him away again, this time more forcefully. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but you cannot touch me just because you feel like it. And I am certainly not your baby.” You slapped him hard across the cheek and stormed away, moving further into the room and the mass of people, hoping for an escape. You were happy to find a door near the DJ stand that led to the backyard. You were surprised to find the large outdoor space empty, considering all of the people that were inside.

You took several large swigs out of your bottle of champagne hoping the alcohol would wipe your memories of what had just happened. Your best friend came running out after you and when she found you in the corner of the backyard she gave you a big hug.

“Oh my god, Y/N I'm so sorry. I didn't see him coming and I would've punched him before he even got to you. God I'm so stupid,” she muttered into your shoulder.

You pushed her away and took another long sip of the champagne. “It's fine. As long as I don't have to fucking see his face for the rest of the night, I'll be fine.”

She bit her lip and coughed. “Um, ha, well. About that,” now it was her turn to chug some of her champagne.

“Y/BF/N,” you said, sensing she wasn't telling you something. “Who is that guy?”

She chuckled to herself. “So, that guy. He kind of,” she started but she was cut off by loud yelling.

You looked up to see that same guy coming out of the door you'd left through. “There you are!” He opened his arms as he walked down the deck towards you.

You could feel your blood begin to boil. “Who the FUCK does this guy think he is?!”

Your best friend stepped between the two of you and spoke before you had a chance to. “I'm sorry but she's taken, and you'll have to come through me before you can get to her.”

You smiled to yourself, your pulse beginning to return to normal, glad that she stayed true to her word. But his words made your blood freeze, “That's okay, there's plenty of me to go around.” His smirk made your stomach turn over and you grabbed your best friend by the arm.

As he approached where you two had been standing in the back of his backyard, he removed his sunglasses and let them hang around his neck. “I’m sorry. I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself.”

Your best friend tensed under your hand and when the next words came out of his mouth you could hear her breath catch in her throat.

“My name is Hoseok. I’m the owner of this house.”

You gaped at him. “This is the guy I’ve heard the rumors about!?” you thought to yourself. “I guess the rumors were way too nice.”

“We know who you are,” your best friend stepped in.

“Oh?” he questioned her, sweeping his arms out to you. “But, I don’t think I’ve ever seen your friend here before.” He emphasized the word friend with a raise of his eyebrows, as if he didn’t believe that the two of you were dating.

She scoffed, and before she could say anything more, you spoke up. “Yeah and I don’t think you’ll see any more of me ever again,” you huffed.

His face dropped, seemingly sad. “Oh now, don’t be like that. We just got off on the wrong foot,” he pouted slightly. “Please, let me make it up to you. I apologize if I came across the wrong way, but you are the most beautiful girl I've seen in my whole life, and I just couldn't let this chance to meet you pass me by.”

“Yeah, sure she is,” your best friend scoffed. You could see her cross her arms out of the corner of your eye, but you were hesitant to write him off. You were sure it was all the alcohol you'd consumed, but you swore he actually meant what he was saying. And as much as you originally hated his guts for touching you without your permission, you felt something spark inside of you at his words. After all, he was really handsome, despite his ridiculous outfit.

Your best friend reached for your arm and you let it slip out of her grasp. “Hoseok,” you whispered. His eyes lit up at the mention of his name, as a smile played on his lips.

Your best friend turned to you and muttered loud enough for both of you to hear, “Y/N, what are you doing?”

Hoseok’s head tilted and he smirked at her slip up. “Y/N, is it?” He stuck his hand out to you. “It's a pleasure to meet you. Please let me correct my errors for you,” he smiled at you and for a moment you got lost in its brilliance.

You grabbed his hand and he gave it a light, but firm, shake before letting your hands drop. Your palm was hot and tingled from his touch and you found yourself wanting to know what it would be like to feel his hands all over your body. “How do you propose to correct your errors?” You questioned him, and your best friend groaned.

“Y/N, don't fall prey to his tricks. He's a player,” she said under her breath, yet Hoseok still managed to pick up her words.

“My reputation precedes me. But, you can't believe everything you hear. And I promise I will not treat your friend like that,” he spoke with sincerity as he turned his attention back to your best friend. “I apologize for my garish behavior back there, but I knew if I let her walk away I would forever regret not knowing at least her name.”

You blushed slightly at his words and bit your lip. He continued, “So I would very much like to treat Y/N here to the VIP treatment. If you'll allow it.” He raised an eyebrow at her and when she looked at you for an answer, you gave her a look trying to plead with her.

You definitely knew the alcohol was having its way with your mind and body, because every word he spoke sparked more and more lights within you. You tried to communicate to her that you'd be okay, you wanted to see what he had to show you. This wasn't anything near what you were expecting when you came out tonight, but you had already stepped out of your comfort zone, and this was only one more step.

Your best friend sighed and waved her hand. “I'm not her parent, it's her decision.”

You smiled at her and turned to Hoseok. “So. What does the VIP treatment entail?”

He smirked and let out a laugh. “Let me show you,” he said sticking his hand out again. But, this time when you took it, he laced his fingers through yours. He led you back up towards the house and you looked back at your best friend, who was watching you as you left with him. You mouthed, “Thank you,” to her and gave her the ‘OK’ sign, trying to reassure her.

He led you back through the door you'd come out, but instead of heading back towards the party he took a turn and brought you down a long hallway you had somehow missed, to a set of stairs. “First part of the VIP treatment, a tour of the house. You've already seen most of the main floor, but the upstairs is where the magic happens.”

You breathed out a laugh. “The magic, huh?”

He turned to look back at you. “You'll see.”

The thought definitely crossed your mind as you ascended the stairs that he was going to immediately take you to his bedroom, you had fallen for his trap. When you got to the top of the stairs, you noticed that there were several identical doors, more than you expected, and realized you would have no warning about where he was leading you, your anxiety slowing creeping back up your spine.

He brought you to a door at the end of the hallway and you noted that from this part of the house you could barely hear the party downstairs. As he opened the door, he moved out of the way and turned to watch your expression. What you saw was the last thing you had expected.

Inside was a music studio, with a small recording booth and a sound board that was larger than anything you could ever imagine. You took a few steps inside and turned around to face him, looking at him. You watched as he closed the door behind you, drowning out the rest of the party for good, and all you could hear were his footsteps as he closed the space between you.

You basked in the silence. You wondered how much soundproofing had to have been done to create such a safe haven. And when he spoke next, it was hardly louder than a whisper but it still made your pulse jump from the sudden change in volume.

“Welcome to my recording studio. This is where the magic happens,” he swept his arm out to encompass the whole room.

He grabbed your hand and led you over to two chairs in front of the soundboard. He sat down in the one in front of a computer and he gestured for you to sit in the one next to him. As you sat he turned to face you in his chair and watched you inquisitively.

You sensed that he wanted you to ask about the music but instead you started with, “So. Is this the VIP treatment?”

“Well,” he mused, leaning back in his chair. “It's the start of it. There's more to show but this is the main event, if you will.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, but let his subtle hints go about there being more to see. Instead you shot another question at him. “Well, why is this the main event? Are you going to tell me you're some secret famous musician I've never heard of?”

“Not necessarily. I like to make music, and this is my studio,” his eyes flitted over to his computer but made sure to catch your reaction at his next words. “I mean, most people don't even know I have this. Or that I make music. So consider yourself very important.”

Your eyebrows raised ever so slightly on their own, and your heart began to beat a little faster. You weren't sure why his words made you so hot, but your cheeks heated despite your best attempts to keep them cool.

He smiled at you, and you thought he had picked up on your sudden change of temperature. You saw something not so innocent in his eyes, and your core clenched. But, in an attempt to subdue your nerves, you inquired about his music.

“Can I hear it?” You whispered, not sure if this was the reason he had brought you here, but you wanted to delay the bad decision you knew you were going to make.

At your words, it was his turn to raise his eyebrows at you. “My music?”

“Yes. That's why you brought me here isn't it? The main event?” You questioned him, trying to extract his true meaning of showing you his studio.

“Well,” he paused. “Okay.”

He turned to his computer and clicked through several screens before glancing back at you one last time. You offered him a half smile, and that was all he needed before he hit play.

Suddenly the room filled with music unlike anything you had expected to hear. It was soft, but upbeat, and slowly got louder, the bass reverberating in your chest. When his voice filled the room your eyes widened and you turned to stare at him. He was watching you with anticipation, a soft smile plastered on his face.

“You're a rapper?” You watched him carefully and noticed his cheeks flush at your question. You wondered why he would be embarrassed about it, or why he hadn't shown anybody this music before, but you kept your thoughts to yourself.

He only nodded in response, but you could see pride in his eyes that he had surprised you with his song. You watched as he seemed to have an internal battle with himself as he looked back and forth from the computer to you. You couldn't tell what he was fighting with himself about, but when he rolled his chair closer to you and planted his feet on either side of yours, your cheeks flushed. The redness only worsened when he opened his mouth and began rapping along with the song.

His voice was quiet at first and you wouldn't have been able to tell he was actually rapping if you hadn't been staring at his lips. You glanced up and his eyes were locked with yours, his voice steady. The song was emotional, but his voice as he sang and rapped in front of you was much different compared to his voice on the  track. As he rapped, his voice was sultry and almost raspy, but you could tell he was filled with another emotion you couldn't place.

As the song went on he rapped louder and louder, at one point he closed his eyes, overcome with that same emotion you couldn't name in your drunken state. His eyebrows furrowed and his face was contorted, but you couldn't deny how attractive he looked as small sweat beads glistened on the curve of his neck that met his chest. Your core heated with a desire you had never felt before, but your brain was yelling at you to stick to your morals. It took all you had in your state of mind to stay seated so you wouldn't do all the things you knew you shouldn't do. Though as the song ended and his eyes opened to stare at you, you felt your control slipping away.

The last note hung in the air, and you could feel the music caught in your chest and trapped in your head. You spoke so you wouldn't break the remnants of the song that were stuck inside of the walls. “Hoseok, that was amazing.”

His eyes glanced from yours to your lips and when you placed your hand on his knee you could hear his breath catch in his throat. “Y/N,” he whispered, and you could feel the heat inside of you reach an unbearable level.

You bit your lip and tried to talk yourself out of what you were about to do one last time, but his hand grazed your thigh and you dropped whatever morals you had left. You lifted slightly out of your chair and placed both hands on his thighs as you leaned in to kiss his lips.

His hands immediately flew up to your face, and his mouth was hot and tasted like expensive liquor you'd never get to taste again. His lips were soft and warm against yours as his fingers caressed your face. You could tell he was holding back, and you were trying your best to refrain yourself as well. Your legs started to shake due the position you were in, and the heat that had begun in your core had only grown, so you pushed yourself out of your chair and stood up so you could straddle him.

When you lips broke away from his for a few seconds, you could see fear flash through his eyes for a second, which made you smirk. You wondered if he thought you were standing up to storm out, but when you placed your first knee on his chair, you watched as his eyes darkened with lust. He licked his lips and wrapped his hands around your waist as you situated yourself on his lap, and pulled you down to meet his lips once more.

His lips were hungry this time, moving quicker with lust, and when his tongue pressed against your lips you didn't hesitate and opened your mouth to him. Your tongues clashed and his hands raked up your back. You felt him grow hard underneath you, and without thinking you moved your hips up and down along his erection. He growled into your mouth as his fingers dug into your hips, his hips bucking up to match your rhythm.

You let your hands travel down his shirt and you could feel under the thin fabric of his shirt how toned his abs were and your fingers worked to remove him of all his layers. He caught on to your aim and helped to remove his robe and inner jacket, his lips never once breaking from yours. But when you had to part with him to remove his shirt, he didn't waste a second in bringing your mouth back to his once he was relieved of it.

Your hands were gentle, skimming themselves along the grooves of his abs and you allowed your nails to graze along his smooth skin. You could feel him shiver under your touch and you couldn't help but enjoy the way he reacted to your touch. You bit his lip and he grabbed your ass, spanking it. You couldn't help but let out a small yelp as you broke away from him.

“What was that for?” You asked hands still planted against his stomach.

He adjusted in his chair, sitting up straighter so his face was more level with yours, and reached around to wrap his hand in your hair. You could feel your core tighten with his grip and when he yanked your head back you let out another yelp, this time in pleasure rather than in pain. Hoseok chuckled and you could feel his breath dance along your neck.

“Y/N,” he whispered, lips pressing against your skin. You could feel his tongue graze your neck and you could feel your body start to quake in anticipation of his next words. “Oh, Y/N. You are so bad.”

You whimpered as he nibbled your neck. You tried to speak but you only managed to get his name out before he grabbed your chin with his free hand. He pulled your face back to meet his, and looked you in the eyes. “Tonight is about you, my dear. You will be a good little girl, won't you?”

You could see something in his eyes that made you wet faster than ever before, and you knew that tonight was not going to end anytime soon. You managed a mixture of a hum and a moan in response back to his question, but that only made him pull on your hair harder.

“Use your words, baby doll. I need to hear you say it,” he whispered in your ear.

“Yes,” you managed to squeeze out. It was hard for your brain to manage words at this point due to the alcohol mixing with the utter desire you felt to let Hoseok have his way with you.

“Yes, what?” He growled in your ear.

“Yes, Hoseok.”

“Hmm. Try again.”

You tried to think of what he meant by try again, and suddenly a video you’d seen once came to mind, and you blurted out what you hoped was the right answer. “Yes, Daddy. I’ll be a good girl.”

A smirk spreading across his face, “That’s good princess. Now, stand up,” he demanded. Even though his hands were still entangled in your hair, you followed his orders. As you shifted off of him, he moved to stand up with you, his grip never slipping out of your hair. Once you were both upright he leaned over to whisper in your ear, “Walk, baby doll.”

You weren’t sure where he wanted you to walk, but you took a step closer to the door and his grip changed. He never once moved to go in front of you, so you kept walking towards the door and when he didn’t stop you, you moved to grab the handle. You waited for another order, but when you didn’t get one you opened it again, as the faint sounds of the party washed over you.

He led you down the hallway back towards the stairwell, and through a door on your left. Once you entered this new room your jaw almost hit the floor.  There was a giant bed in the middle covered in what looked like the softest blanket in the world. He walked in behind you, pushing you closer to the center of the room, and when he shut the door behind himself the sounds of the party once again immediately stopped, leading you to wonder once again how soundproofed these rooms had to be.

“Welcome to the second stop on the tour,” he bent down to kiss your neck as his hand fell from your hair. Your breath caught in your throat, feeling relieved that you could stretch your neck, but your moment of relief didn’t last very long as his hands began to roam your body. He spun you around and his mouth met yours with more lust than you’d ever tasted. His hands were rough, and you could feel that he was hungry for you, but you were tense with anticipation.

You let your hands rest on his chest, as you tried your best to grab onto his bare skin. As his hands were grabbing at your body, his mouth moved to your neck, where he seemed keen on leaving as many marks of himself on you as he could. You let out a moan of pleasure as he bit your neck and grabbed your ass. Before you had a chance to react, he was hoisting you into the air by your waist and you wrapped your legs and arms around him to keep yourself from falling.

He crossed the distance to the bed with several long strides and threw you down with ease. You landed with a yelp, and stared up at him, waiting for your next command.

“Sit up” he barked at you, the passion you’d felt in his kiss earlier completely gone, replaced with a spine chilling sense of control.

You did as he said and when he ordered you to take off his pants you looked up at him once, which only led to him grabbing your hair again. “I said take them off. Is there something wrong, baby doll?”

You stared up at him from under your eyelashes and managed a, “No, Hoseok.”

“What did I say earlier? Try again.” He emphasized his words with another hard tug of your locks.

You had to choke out the words, still coming to terms that this was actually happening. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Good,” he said stroking your face with his other hand. “Now, do it.”

Your hands made quick work of unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down as far as you could reach. When they fell to his ankles he stepped out of his shoes and his pants, kicking them to the side. His boxer briefs were tight around his length, and you could see the tip poking out the top of them. You licked your lips, filled with the sudden desire to have him fuck your face like you’d seen in many videos before and use you however he wanted.

You grabbed the band of his briefs and pulled them down in one swift motion, eager to have his cock in your mouth. And with a second swift kick he was standing in front of you, his length pointed at your mouth. He took a step closer to you, leaving less than an inch between your mouth and the tip of his dick. You could feel your wetness grow as you waited for his next command, and when he ordered you to part your lips, you did exactly as he told.

He came closer until the tip rested on your tongue. You brought your lips to close around his girth and you hummed at how perfect he fit into your mouth. He yanked on your hair, forcing your mouth back open, and your eyes to meet his. He sneered as he pushed himself all the way into your mouth and throat, causing you to gag. The sensation of his dick pressed against the back of your throat was unlike any you had ever felt before and you had to close your eyes to savor that feeling.

“Do you like that baby doll? Do you like choking on my dick?” Hoseok was growling and you could feel his cock pulsating in your mouth.

You could only hum in response to his question, which made him pull out and repeat his question. To which you responded in as loud of a voice as you could manage, “Yes, Daddy.”

He smirked again at your answer. “Good girl,” and with that he forced himself back into your mouth and began thrusting until he was all the way down your throat, and pulled back until his tip was all that was left on your tongue. You had never let anyone take control of you like this before, making sure to always to set the limits of where things were going. You had to admit to yourself that even if Hoseok asked you to strip down and let him fuck you, in this moment, you would follow his every order. There was something about the mix of alcohol and him that broke you down and made all your morals fly out the window.

You could feel tears streaming down your face as he fucked your mouth and throat. He bent you to his every will, while you tried your hardest to keep your gag reflex down. When you thought you couldn’t handle any more of his dick hitting the back of your throat, he pulled out, and commanded you to stand up again, with another harsh tug of your hair.

You stood up as you were ordered to, which only led him to bark out another one. “Take off your dress.”

Your heart stopped for a moment, realizing that this was the point of no return. If you took your dress off, you knew without a doubt that you were going to lose your virginity. But, you knew that if you wanted to, you could slap him again and storm out and keep your dignity intact. Yet, when you saw his eyes glint with dominance as you hesitated to follow his order, the heat in your core almost exploded, and you did as he told.

You reached around your back to unzip your dress as his hand fell from your hair, to wrap around his own cock. He watched you with hunger in his eyes as you removed your dress to reveal your bra and panties. As soon as you stepped out of your dress pooled around your feet, Hoseok pushed you back down on the bed.

He ripped off your panties with one swift motion and flipped you over, unhooked your bra and flipped you back over to rip that off of you as well. “Oh baby doll. You've been hiding this body from me all night.” He clicked his tongue and you watched as he crawled on top of you, a grin sneaking its way on to his face.

He situated himself over top of you and leaned down to kiss you roughly once before moving down to bite his way down to your breasts. You let out a loud moan as his teeth grazed along your nipple, letting his tongue flick the hard nub back and forth. You reached your hand up to grip his hair, hoping he wouldn't see this as an act of defiance, but when he started sucking on your nipple your grip tightened.

His mouth lingered over your nipple as his hands traveled down to your thighs. He spread your legs apart with his hands, letting his hands trail up to your heated center. You gasped when his finger separated your lips and caressed from your clit down to your pussy.

He lifted his head to whisper, “Baby doll, you are so wet for my cock aren't you? Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want Daddy to fuck you?”

Your head was swimming with pleasure and alcohol and you knew you could say no, but you had never been treated like this before, and it was turning you on to no end. You had thought from the first moment you kissed him that you would regret it if you slept with him. Yet now that you had gotten this far you knew that if you said no now, you would forever regret not sleeping with him.

So, you managed a, “Yes, Daddy. Please,” through your moans.

He snickered under his breath as his fingers drew circles around your clit. “Good,” and with his words he plunged two fingers deep inside of you, making you scream out in pleasure. He curled his fingers deep inside you causing your back to arch, leading your breasts right back into his mouth.

He sucked on the tender skin next to your nipple making your moans grow to an incredible level. You were so loud that you almost didn't hear him say, “You’re tight baby doll. I can’t wait to open you up with my cock.” He moved his fingers faster and faster inside of you and you could feel yourself getting close to your climax, you core tightening with every curl of his fingers inside you.

You lost control of your ability to form sentences and instead yelled out anything you could think of as your orgasm neared. “Fuck...Hoseok...Yes...Fuck...Daddy...Oh my god,” you were screaming, but as you were about to crest the wave of your orgasm, he pulled his fingers out and detached his mouth from your tit with a loud pop.

“Not so quick, baby doll. Can’t have you cumming so soon. Plus, I don’t recall giving you permission.” you opened your eyes to see a sneer plastered across his face. He sat up next to you and flipped you over on your stomach. He spanked you once, hard and fast, and it made you whimper underneath him.

“Do you promise to be a good girl, and cum when I tell you?” he said with another swift spank.

“Yes, Daddy. I will,” you muttered into his sheets. You could feel your wetness growing with the next few spanks he gave you, and you had to clutch the sheets to keep yourself from crying out in both pain and pleasure.

“Do you like it when I spank you, baby doll?” You heard him hiss as his fingers slipped down between your thighs to feel you dripping. You couldn't manage any words, wishing instead that he would finally fill you up with his cock. But, when he didn't get a quick response he grabbed your hair and gave you another spank, harder than all the rest.

“Answer me.”

“Yes, Daddy. I love it when you spank me. Please, god, fuck me already” you could feel yourself trembling under his touch as his fingers slid into you one more time. You hoped he would listen to your pleads and fuck you like you imagined you would never be fucked again.

“Hmmm, you haven't been a very good girl, Y/N,” you could feel him shift off the bed as he spoke, but you didn't dare move to look at him and what he was doing. “I think you still need to be punished.”

When you felt the bed shift again you inhaled deep into your lungs, waiting for another hard spank to come. But instead you felt his hand gripping one of your wrists, pulling your arm behind your back. You felt something cold and smooth encompass your wrist, and when you heard him snap the band into place, you gasped. “What...is this leather? Leather handcuffs?” Your eyes widened as he snapped the second band into place, coming to the realization that you were completely under his control. You couldn’t figure out if you liked this or not, though as he pulled back on the band connecting your wrists, lifting your head off the bed, you couldn’t help but notice how much being in this position was starting to turn you on.

You felt him readjust on the bed, his knees grazing your thighs as he did. He spanked you hard again and leaned over to lay kisses over the expanse of your back. While his one hand still held onto the chain between your wrists, you could feel his free hand slip between your folds and his fingers playfully circled your opening. “Baby doll, you are so wet. Tell me what you want.”

He emphasized his last word with a soft smack, and you could feel the vibration travel all the way through your body, causing you to drip with anticipation. “Please, Daddy. Fuck me. God, please. Fill me up with your cock.”

Hoseok growled as you pleaded, spreading your legs apart with his own. He grabbed your hips with his hands, pulling them up, so your thighs rested against his, your face planted against the bed underneath you. You turned to rest one cheek on the blanket, to try and get a glimpse of his cock as he filled you up. You could feel his length rubbing against your core and you grew ever impatient. You had waited long enough for this very moment, and now that it was here you were in such a hurry to know what it was like, so you wiggled your hips back onto his, hoping this would not only garner more spanks, but also tempt him to fill you up with one thrust.

And by the look on his face as your lips rubbed up and down on his shaft, you knew that was exactly what he wanted as well. You couldn’t wait any longer so you repeated in a hushed tone. “Please, Daddy. Fuck me.”

That was all he needed. He grabbed the links between your wrists with one hand and pushed your hips forward with the other. You watched with glee as he lined himself up with your center, and with one pull of your handcuffs he had filled you up with one hard thrust.

You let out a loud scream of pleasure and pain, gasping for air at this new sensation. Your legs quivered from the burning sensation you felt as he had ripped you open with ease.

“Oh my god baby doll. You are so fucking tight,” he grabbed at your hips steadying himself against you. “Hmm if I didn't know any better, I might say that you've never been fucked before.”

You didn't answer his question and kept quiet knowing that if you gave him the truth he might be more rough with you, but that if you lied he might not be as rough as you wished he would. In lieu of a response to his statement you rolled your hips against his, trying to get used to his size inside of you.

He groaned out loudly, and pushed your hips back, pulling himself out until only his tip was left inside of you. You tried to push your hips back to take his cock back into your core, but he was resisting any movement you made toward him. “Mmmm baby you are so greedy. You're going to have to beg for it now. Tell me how bad you want my cock.”

“I want it so fucking bad, Daddy. Please fuck me. Fuck me hard. I want your cock so bad. Please, give it to me.” Your mind was spinning and the words were spilling out of you. In the back of your mind you wondered where this side of you had been all your life, but you couldn't help but enjoy this feeling of being at the will of another. When he didn't give you what you asked for you tried to make eye contact with him and begged again.

“Daddy, please.”

You barely managed to get your words out before he plunged back inside of you. You had to bite your lip from the sudden sensation again, but this time he didn't let you get used to his size. He began to pump in and out of you, hips slapping against yours every time he slid back inside of you, still holding tightly to the handcuffs.

He was fucking you so roughly you had to do everything in your power to make sure you wouldn't collapse. His grunts mixed with your moans and at one point you couldn't tell who was making what sounds, and you just relished in the feeling of his cock pressing against the walls of your core.

You could feel a ball tightening inside of you as his hips continued to slam against yours. You needed release and badly. “Hoseok, fuck, yes, please fuck me harder. I'm gonna c-” you couldn't get the word out as he grabbed your hips with both hips and slammed himself into you farther than you'd ever think he could reach.  You let out a scream as the ball of nerves in your center loosened and your orgasm hit. You were shaking underneath him, but that didn't stop the onslaught of his thrusts. He kept on pumping and soon you were screaming through a second orgasm.

As your second orgasm began to subside you could feel his thrusts increase and suddenly he pulled out and used both hands to flip you over. You stared up at him, eyes glazed over, still on the high from your orgasms. He pulled your face up by your chin, and ordered you to open your mouth.

You did as you were told and soon he was shoving his cock down your throat again, hands tangled in your hair steadying himself as he fucked your face. You relished in the taste of yourself on his cock, and closed your eyes to focus on the taste of his sweat mixed with your own juices.

Soon he was moaning louder than you'd ever heard him. “Fuck yes baby doll. I'm gonna cum.” No sooner than the words had left his mouth, you felt the first stream of cum shoot down your throat. You looked up at him and his eyes met yours as his cock twitched in your mouth, releasing all of his cum into your mouth. You did your best to swallow it all, trying not to let any spill out of the sides of your mouth. As he pulled out of your mouth you could feel him shaking slightly.

He fell onto the bed next to you and reached around you to release you from the handcuffs. When you were free you laid down next to him and murmured, “Wow. That was….amazing.”

You rolled over onto your side and began to draw circles on his abs, grazing your fingers down the lines in his stomach. You watched with awe as his cock still twitched against his stomach, already thinking to the next time you would get to have sex. You realized it would probably never be as good as this time, your first time, but you were coming to terms with the fact that this was a one time thing, that you were just another number on his list.

However, when he lifted his head to look at you with one eyebrow slightly raised, you couldn't help but hope that this wouldn't be the last time he would fuck you.

“Hmmm. If you think that was amazing, I have much more in store for you baby doll.” He reached to pull you down to kiss him, and just before your lips met his he whispered. “I'm never letting you go.”

A/N: a HUGE fucking shout-out to @jaebumsthickgf​ for helping me edit this part and the next part! Part 2 (Hobi’s POV)

[toomuchsky]

some updates, bc lots has happened lmao:

i think i finally get paid the money i was supposed to get paid last week tomorrow, so hurrah!

we took in a stray kitten off the streets last week, so now we have......4.....cats to our house of 5 people..... 

this week has been a haul of just like, maintenance things - vet appts for all the cats this week and next, zora’s dates books shipped to our house today (so now we’ve got 2000 books in boxes in our house too), car inspection on thursday

both job interviews last week went super well!!! hoping to hear back from one or both of them this week. (the ceo to one of the organizations friend requested me on fb????? wild)

saw in the heights and newsies!!!!! it was a gr8 time

i started working on a south asian organizing effort here in pgh and it’s been A Lot jesus

bought plane tix to new orleans in august!!!!! going on vacay with the fam the week before!!! it’s gonna be hells stressful!!! i’m gonna miss my cat a lot!!!

that’s all i can think of lmao. it’s been a Time and a Half. i’m gonna play video games until i pass out.

[erinoguzer-blog]

Dear friends of Governors’, High season is right around the corner and we have been working tirelessly over the last few months to pull off an exciting array of new projects, upgrades and latest additions including a Cessna Grand Caravan, 5 Landcruisers (straight out of the showroom), 3 Landrovers that have been expertly modified into photographic safari vehicles, 8 brand new tents at Private Camp, 8 brand new family units at Governors’ Camp, 1 new balloon basket and 3 new balloon envelopes. Let’s not forget our northern Kenya property, Mugie House, which is coming along beautifully and will open its doors to our first guests by the end of the year! Rome was certainly not built in a day, but we do feel as though we have achieved something pretty miraculous here. We have a wonderful ‘cast of characters’ at Governors’, which includes an incredibly dedicated team that has made it all happen. Its been a race against time – lots of pressure, lots of fun and most of all – a huge sense of pride that we have managed to meet all the deadlines and ultimately, we can continue to offer a diverse set of experiences, designed to excite and inspire our valued guests.  In keeping with all the new additions, we have welcomed back Will Fortescue as our resident photographer for the next four months over high season. He has just returned from a two week stay at our community-owned lodge in Rwanda, Sabyinyo Silverback Lodge, with the most stunning collection of images including the gorillas (as used in this newsletter), Golden Monkeys and our supported community and cultural projects. Please follow our social media pages (links are at the bottom of this newsletter) to see more of Will’s photography.

Wishing you all the best,

Governors’ Camp Collection

WHAT’S NEW AT GOVERNORS’ CAMP COLLECTION

Governors’ Aviation: In May we welcomed the latest addition to our fleet: a (new to us) Cessna Grand Caravan that made a five day journey all the way from Ohio, across the Atlantic and over to the Azores and then Egypt, before touching down on Kenyan soil at Wilson Airport. All paperwork and maintenance checks aside, we expect her to be up in the air in time for high season, over which we will be operating a total of four aircraft – all Cessna Grand Caravans – the best in the business!

Governors’ Camp Collection:

Photographic safari vehicles: all our Mara camps are set in the heart of the best wildlife viewing areas, amongst some of East Africa’s most spectacular scenery. It’s therefore no surprise, that we attract film crews from landmark series such as BBC Earth’s Dynasties and Animal Planet’s Big Cat Tales, as well as both professional and amateur photographers from all corners of the world. Attention like this from the world of film and photography enthusiasts can only mean one thing …. bring on the photographic safari vehicles! Specially modified to include same level seating throughout, cut out side panels in the middle row (can be closed over with canvas sheeting), high roofs and fully folding windscreens – features that were specifically recommended to us by our professional photographic safari guides. We have converted 3 refurbished Landrovers into a photographer’s dream!

Private Camp: the camp offering an exclusive taste of the Governors’ experience. We have really gone all out here and replaced the original eight dark green canvas tents with completely new beige tents which are higher, wider and have huge floor-to-roof windows, offering more space and air flow. Pretty touches include brass lamps in the bedroom units and in the bathrooms, as well as the addition of Kitengela’s recycled glassware which replaces plastic bottled water (this completes our whole collection of camps in being plastic water bottle free – hurrah!) We have kept the original wooden decking of each tent’s private verandah – the perfect place to sit back and enjoy the activities of the Mara River below you.

Governors’ Camp: we have replaced the previous 6 family units with 8 brand new family tents which have been beautifully crafted out of beige ripstop. They are one meter longer, and slightly wider and higher than the previous units. The windows are much bigger than before, allowing in more light. The bathrooms now feature double sinks, stone tile floors and ‘Lamu finish’ grey coloured walls, all in keeping with the natural and muted colours of the camp’s surroundings.

Governors’ Balloon Safaris: as pioneers of the Classic African Safari, it was only fitting that we should add hot air balloon flights to the collection, more than FORTY YEARS ago! Offering the most scenic flight path in the Masai Mara, we continue to be the top choice for this bucket-list experience, and so we receive a new basket and 3 new ‘envelopes’ (or ‘balloons’) in just a few days time! In other exciting news, our Mara guides are currently receiving further training, specifically in Ornithology, by bird expert Dave Richards. Not only has Dave been providing relief management across our camps and lodges since the early days, but he is also a professional safari guide, author and photographer, who has written a number of published books on travel and wildlife in Kenya and East Africa.

UPDATE ON GOVERNOR’S MUGIE HOUSE

For those of you who don’t know, Mugie House is our latest addition to Governors’ Camp Collection – a luxury camp up north which will combine perfectly with the rest of our property portfolio. We expect to be open towards the end of the year!

Meanwhile, hard work continues up in Laikipia as the property comes together beautifully. Aside from the actual rebuild and renovations, there are many other ongoing developments such as ‘bush cookery’ training by Antonia Stogdale, Safari Chef and Founder of ‘Antonia’s Kitchen’. We have two chefs taking the course, David and Mungai, and as you can see there are all sorts of delicious and colourful preparations underway, as well as a home-grown vegetable garden which will allow us to supply only the freshest of ingredients!

GOVERNORS’ CAMP COLLECTION BLOGS – MASAI MARA GAME REPORT

Pastel sunrises have opened the days for the month of May, while rainfall has been quite scattered. There has been plenty of mating between the Marsh Pride lionesses, specifically Yaya and her adult daughters, Pamoja and Nusu Mkia, with some of the Marsh males; we are hoping for tiny cubs by about mid August which will clearly delight our high season guests. Serval cat sightings have been frequent as well as leopard and cheetah.

Loldia House: May 2019

Hot weather and little rain in May encouraged wildlife right into the Loldia House surrounds for the green grass and complimentary hay and molasses mixture we have been leaving out in the evenings. Night game drives are becoming more exciting than ever with the use of red filters on our car’s spotlights; May sightings included an aardvark! Thank you to two special guests who got involved in our community & conservation project.

Sabyinyo Silverback Lodge: May 2019

May was a mixed month of heavy rain and just a few sunny days. The lodge was full almost nightly and many friendships were made over gorilla talk by the fire in our cosy sitting room – it was truly heartwarming! The highlight of the month was the arrival of photographer Will Fortescue. We had the pleasure of his company for two weeks while he captured all aspects of the lodge including the community & cultural activities.

PHOTOGRAPHIC SAFARI – 2020 DATES RELEASED!!

Following the success of our photo safari hosted by Paul Joynson-Hicks MBE in green season this year, we are hosting two photo safaris in 2020! A renowned African wildlife photographer, Paul’s passion started as a photographer’s assistant many moons ago in London and developed into an obsession through the last 25 years living and working in Africa. He is a widely published wildlife photographer, with several coffee table books and exhibitions. Amongst the social enterprises he has been involved in, Paul is the founder of the world acclaimed Comedy Wildlife Photography Awards, created in partnership with The Born Free Foundation, and receiving global coverage including BBC and Sky News. Dates: 23rd – 29th March and 6th – 12th June 2020. Each safari is limited to six places only!

Community Revenue Earned from Governors’ Sabyinyo Silverback Lodge

Community Revenue Earned from Governors’ Sabyinyo Silverback Lodge Surpasses US$3.25 Million

Governors’ Camp’s Sabyinyo Silverback Lodge in Rwanda is a uniquely community-owned lodge, with revenue received by the surrounding SACOLA Community. In August, we reached an incredible milestone when revenue earned by the community surpassed $3.25 Million.

On 7th September, 2018 Rwanda celebrated Kwita Izina, the annual national celebration where new baby gorillas are named in an event attended by heads of state, world conservation figures, and celebrities. The loud and clear message throughout the week of celebrations is that in order to protect gorillas, you must look after communities. Sabyinyo Silverback Lodge’s revenue-sharing model has allowed a community of over 5000 households who live at the edge of Volcanoes National Park to benefit directly from gorilla tourism.

Opened officially in 2008 by President Paul Kagame, Sabyinyo Silverback Lodge is uniquely community-owned, the only such lodge in Rwanda. The Lodge was designed, built and is managed by Governors’ Camp, with revenue streams in the form of lease fees and levies from each guest stay going directly to the community.

Revenue from Sabyinyo Lodge is invested in socio-economic development projects, as determined by the SACOLA community through an elected board, that uplift the lives of the community members.

To date, some of the projects that have been achieved with the revenue stream from Sabyinyo Silverback Lodge include:

Connecting 5800 households to electricity

Construction of 65 classrooms in 6 schools, including two computer labs

Purchase of 40 acres of land to build Nyarubande School – one of the six schools

Donation 60 computers to 2 schools

Equipping schools with desks

Payment of school fees for children from the poorest families

Building of 40 houses for donation to survivors of the genocide, ex-poachers and the communities most vulnerable people. All houses are fully plumbed, electrified and provided fully furnished

The construction of two villages (34 houses) which house 126 formerly destitute farmers on the fringes of Parc National des Volcans in Rwanda who subsisted from the park. The village provides houses, water tanks and plots of land to people living close to the edge of the national park who are being resettled within the framework of the park extension project.

The construction and maintenance of 12 kms of local roads. Construction of bridges over waterways

Purchase of land to build a new technical school, aimed at upskilling members of the community with marketable skills

Donation of water tanks to community members for household water storage

Repair of damaged houses for community members

Provision of healthcare insurance for 7000 of the poorest community members

Construction of a health centre

Construction of piping and water collection points servicing over 10s of thousands of community members

The establishment and support of a local pig project.

The establishment and support of a local sheep project

Provision of capital to create a poultry business run by a coop of widows of the genocide

Ongoing support of livestock business with a SACOLA financed vet.

Financing of the construction of 2 SACCOS (community banks)

Initiating a one family one cow program which provides cows to poor people in the local community, with over 250 cows donated

 Every guest staying at Sabyinyo Silverback Lodge is making a direct contribution to the uplifting of lives of the people living alongside the Volcanoes National Park, thus ensuring the future of Rwanda’s Mountain Gorillas.

Sabyinyo Silverback Lodge

The post Governors’ Camp Collection – June 2019 Newsletter appeared first on Africa Adventure Company& Blog.

[the-education-protocol]

In the Half-Light of SWL

Hello everyone! I’m certain by now you’ve all heard the news: The Secret World is being remade into Secret World Legends! So, what does that mean for The Education Protocol?

On average, an Education Protocol Wave takes at least a year to finish the content intended. This conflicts with the current state of the game, in that TSW is being put on maintenance in favor of SWL. With that in mind, the following changes are being made to the Waves:

Wave One: Wave One will continue to stream for the next few weeks, revisiting favorite dungeons and sending the game off with one last hurrah.

Wave Two:  Wave Two will finish out Facility NM and its Masterplanner run. 

Wave Four: Wave Four will finish out Facility NM and its Masterplanner run.

Wave Five:  TBA

Wave Six: Sadly, as Wave Blue was still in its infancy and only two dungeons in, it will be cancelled.

The Education Protocol will resume in SWL! However, it will take time before it does, as Wave Leaders will need to familiarize themselves with the new meta and dungeon mechanics.

[jodybouchard9]

Check Yourself: 6 Home Maintenance Tasks You Should Tackle in August

The dog days of summer are barking and Labor Day is just around the bend, signaling the end of yet another epic season in the sun. But before you give your flamingo pool float one last hurrah, take a break with some home maintenance prep for the changing season ahead.

We know what you’re thinking: It’s still summer, and you’re being a buzzkill! Why worry now about what you can do next month? Well, as it turns out, some home maintenance tasks are best tackled in August, before temperatures start dipping.

Don’t worry: We’re here to make all those chores as quick and easy on you as possible. With our handy checklist of home maintenance tasks, you can knock ’em out and be back to your barbecues and beach days in no time.

1. Check your washing machine connections

With the kids home from school and loads of sweaty garments to clean, your washing machine has likely taken a major beating this summer. With all that extra use, be sure to check that the water supply hoses which connect to your machine are in good condition.

“If they are older black rubber hoses, check for any bulging in the hose or any parts that look worn,” says Tony Dunaway of BEST Plumbing of Cincinnati.

DIY: If you have worn hoses, you can swap them out with replacements for as little as $25, but it’ll take you some effort. After you’ve turned off the water supply to the hoses, use adjustable pliers to loosen one hose at a time from the water supply, and then from the washing machine. You’ll also need to make sure your new hose has a rubber washer in each end. If your hoses are made of rubber, consider upgrading and replacing them with rupture-proof, braided stainless-steel hoses.

Call in the pros: A pro will save you the effort, but you’ll shell out around $140 for the job. How much are your days in the summer sun worth to you, anyhow?

2. Prune dead wood from your lawn and garden

Now’s the time to tidy up your perennials and clear those unsightly dead twigs and branches, according to Tony Smith, president of Nursery Enterprises in Rexburg, ID.

Not only will you have a more attractive yard, but “by cleaning them out this summer, you’ll create a clean slate—and next summer you’ll have a better grasp in understanding your plants’ health.” Smith says.

DIY: You’ll need pruners, a saw, and loppers (or a chain saw) to really attack this job.

Call in the pros: If the mere thought of wielding a chain saw gives you the heebie-jeebies, call in a professional landscape company to do the deed. The cost depends, of course, on the extent of the work and the size of your yard, but expect to pay at least $400 to $700 for a reputable, licensed tree trimmer.

3. Clear the gutters

Get the gunk out of your gutters this summer.

IndyEdge/iStock

Summer thunderstorms can clog your gutters and lead to costly water damage down the road. Properly functioning gutters direct water away from your home, but muck and debris can cause water to collect around your home’s foundation and seep into your basement, if you have one. (Clogged gutters also make great homes for rodents and other vermin, just in case you needed another reason to tackle this task.)

DIY: Grab a ladder and shimmy up to the roof to inspect your gutters and drains, taking care to wear proper hand and eye protection. A simple garden trowel is effective for clearing most debris.

Call in the pros: Scared of heights? The average gutter job will run you around $150.

4. Deal with wasps, mosquitoes, and other insects

Wasp activity peaks in late summer; these insects become more aggressive and likely to sting in, you guessed it, August. So you’ll want to spray for wasps and eliminate them, pronto.

DIY: “The first step to eliminating a wasp nest is to identify where the colony lives,” says Dave Patterson, owner of Tactix Pest Control in Boise, ID. “Scan your lawn, looking for activity close to the ground. Once you find where the wasps are coming and going, apply wasp treatment to the entrance. Repeat this step every few days until you no longer see any activity.”

Patterson also recommends patrolling your property for stagnant water, which can be a breeding ground for mosquitoes.

“First, drain any areas that are holding water—this step alone should significantly cut down on mosquito activity,” he says. This means birdbaths, planters, or any other places where rainfall might have accumulated. “For further prevention, invest in forms of mosquito repellant like citronella candles, mosquito traps, and bug zappers.”

Finally, check the seals around your home, including doors, windows, and dryer vents. Caulk or expanding sealants should be more than enough to seal most openings, according to Patterson.

Call in the pros: The national average cost of wasp removal ranges between $100 and $400. The cost of mosquito control depends on a variety of factors, including property size and treatment frequency. An entire summer of mosquito treatment could run $500 or more, but you’re more likely to get a deal now that it’s later in the season.

5. Clean your natural stone

Clean natural stone around your home to prevent food, dirt, and oil stains from setting in.

Beeldbewerking/iStock

“After a summer filled with nonstop grilling fests, family gatherings, and just general outdoor fun and wear and tear, it’s important to properly clean natural stone around your home—whether it’s outdoor granite countertops, stone walkways, or patios—to prevent food, dirt, and oil stains from setting in and leaving permanent marks,” says James Freeman, chief operating officer of Colonial Marble & Granite.

DIY: Start by dusting off stone surfaces, because abrasive materials such as dirt or sand (carried home from weekend getaways) can cause damage. Avoid using harsh cleaning products on natural stone; instead, choose a gentle cleanser with a neutral pH (preferably without soap, which causes streaks and film) and a soft cloth. For a longer-lasting finish and better protection against stains and grime, consider applying a water-based penetrating sealer.

Call in the pros: For serious stains, call in a professional stone maintenance company to restore your stone. Expect to spend anywhere between $400 and $1,100, depending on the level of grime.

6.  Get your furnace prepped for winter

“When residential furnaces fail, they typically do so during the coldest days of the year, which is why it’s important to have these systems inspected in August, before temperatures drop,” says Michael Petri, owner of Petri Plumbing & Heating, in New York City. “An annual tuneup and inspection can help homeowners save money, maintain comfort, and ensure safety when units are turned on for the first time in several months.”

Call in the pros: There’s no shortcut for this one; maintaining your furnace is something you’ll want to defer to a pro. Typically, HVAC companies run prewinter specials for this kind of work, so keep your eyes peeled for deals—but expect to spend between $130 and $450.

The post Check Yourself: 6 Home Maintenance Tasks You Should Tackle in August appeared first on Real Estate News & Insights | realtor.com®.

[ask-de-writer]

DARING DO and the Gryphon’s Quest! : MLP Fan Fiction : Chapter 15 of 19

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to MLP Fan Fiction

DARING DO

and

The Gryphon’s Quest!

Chapter 15

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

and

Carmen Pondiego

Cover art by Wind the Mama Cat

29584 words

© 2016 by Glen Ten-Eyck

Writing begun 03/29/16

All rights reserved.  This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

This is a Fan Fiction based on My Little Pony.  Canterlot, Princess Luna and the name Daring Do are owned by Hasboro Inc.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  

1.) They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.

2.) They may use the characters  or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works,  cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

3.) All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction are actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

For new readers, this link leads to the beginning of  

Daring Do and the Gryphon’s Quest!

///////////////////////

Chapter 15. Journey to the Gryphon Empire

The screen of Eagles overhead made certain that there was no further aerial assault.  There were no further adventures beyond the changeling’s continuous wonder and delight at the mundane seeming world that they passed through.  

That did not stop her from needing fires four times a day to draw warmth from.  Warmth that she then shared out to her precious eggs.  Her dedication to turning them and keeping them safe was past impressive.

At the Circle Lake Resort rail terminus Grata laid out her ID as the Left Wing of the Imperial Throne and her Letters of Cooperation from Princess Luna and Princess Celestia.

“Good Station Master, we require a safe place to keep our cart untouched except by members of our party until you can obtain a car that will meet our transport needs.”

The pony looked up at Grata.  From behind his ticketing window grating he asked, “What is so special about your car needs?”

Grata, crest set dead serious, replied, “We need a single baggage/passenger car with a galley suitable for both Gryphon and pony diets.  There must be a communicating door between the passenger and baggage parts.”

The Station Master pony scratched behind his orange ear as he thought. “There are precious few such cars as you require.  I can do a Magic Net check to see how soon I can get one here.  The check might take an hour or two.”

An arrogant Gryphon voice interrupted, “It is of no importance!  This Blasphemous Venture Ends HERE!  They did not go to the so called Sunlord Temple at all!

“I, Krayard, High Priest of the Twin Flames of Creation, shall personally destroy anything in that cart that I deem blasphemous!  That changeling must be slaughtered!  As for those eggs, I will make an omelet of …”

Three power diving Eagles interrupted his oration by slamming him to the station platform!  Their extended talons drew blood.  As he tried frantically to flutter back to his feet, two more diving Eagles smashed talon first into his wings, pinning his spread out pinions!  Another Eagle struck Krayard in his center back, between the wings!  

Added to the crunch of clawed claws smashing into him, there was the cracking of bone!  Krayard’s hindquarters suddenly spasmed wildly and went limp!

Shocked beyond measure, he cried out, “Make them stop!  Why are they attacking me?”

Rahak replied, crest set to show mild interest, “How can we?  They are not tame creatures doing some trick.  You threatened both their mother and their young that she is tending.”

“Mother!  How is that monster of blasphemy any sort of mother to anything?”

The Eagles had paused their attack, except that the one on Krayard’s neck struck suddenly!  He lifted his head, beak dripping the gore of the priest’s right eye.  Striking yet again, he blinded the Gryphon under his talons.

Grata filled in, “How stupid are you, Krayard? The first living being that a chick sees becomes mother to it.  This changeling was the sole survivor of her hive.  We do not know where the hive was, or how long she has been raising Eagles but these are all following their mother.

“Defending Nest and Young is NEVER murder and that is what they are doing!  I see no reason to interfere.” Grata turned her back on the carnage that followed as the Eagles began to strip the flesh from his carcass.

Speaking to the appalled Station Master, Grata said cheerfully, “My apologies for the mess.  I will pay extra for cleaning the platform.”

Tearing his eyes from the ghastly sight of the Gryphon’s now still carcass being stripped by a horde of Eagles who were feeding cooperatively, the Station Master swallowed hard and replied, “Thanks, ma'am.  Was not looking forward to getting that job done.  About that car, let me get started on finding it for you.”

He busied himself with a magic net mirror.  He applied Princess Luna’s note of cooperation, which caused the Royal Seal of the High Commissioner of Equestrian Roads to glow and stick, proving the document and the connected request to be genuine.

It only took him about twenty minutes.  Looking up, he reported, “Ma'am, I found a car that meets your needs.  It will take two days to get it here.  We cross checked with Princess Luna herself.  She has ordered it as a special train, with its own engine and fuel car.  Once it is here, it can be ready to load your party in only two hours.  Those are needed for proper maintenance.”

Grata nodded acceptance.  “That is fine.  Where can we safely park our cart and stay by it?”

“Stay by it?  I can easily book you into a resort hotel.”  He rubbed his chin in thought.  A glance over at the dead Krayard, where the changeling was happily chomping down gobbets of the carcass, surrounded by Eagles who were also feeding with none of the expected squabbling.  

They were all surrounded by the delicate green glow of changeling magic.

The Station Manager sort of swallowed hard.  “OK, I see why you won’t want a hotel room!”  Rubbing his chin, he suggested, “Try our Warehouse #2. We will lock the pegasus ports from the inside.  Same for the main doors.  Entry and exit will be through the office.  Will that do?”

“It sounds perfect.  Let us see it.  Doctor Do will be the final judge of that.”

The remaining two days stayed quiet.  They built small fires for the changeling on a regular basis, to help her keep her eggs warm.  Eagles perched along the roof crest and in the trees nearby.  

They brought gifts of fish from the lake and a good variety of greens for Daring Do.  These, they laid at the door to the warehouse office.

When the special short train arrived, they opened the main door to the warehouse and brought out the cart and the changeling.  Oddly, it was Gryphons among the tourists who cheered them the most.

A pony asked a cheering Gryphon, “How can you cheer that one?  I mean, it is a changeling and it ate one of your kind!”

The Gryphon paused, crest showing puzzlement.  “Why is that wrong?  He was attacking nest and young.  Besides that, he was violating the will and law of your Princesses and our Empress.  Such a being has no honor.  His death was to be unmarked and unburried, for scavengers to eat.  That it benefited nest and young was a good thing!

“Hurrah for the Left Wing of the Throne!”

The pony shook his head.  “Every time that I think that I have started to understand you Gryphons, something like this happens!”

They watched as the baggage car door was opened and the cart and changeling were loaded.  The door was sealed and Daring Do, Grata and Rahak boarded the passenger part of the car.  Eagles perched on top of it!

With the loud Chug! Chug! The hissing of steam, bells clanging, and the blast of a whistle, the journey to the Gryphon Empire began.

The changeling came out to be with them for a little bit.  She watched the passing scenery with fascination.  Daring Do pulled out her writing kit and offered it to her.

She also brought out the copy of the original document of the Legends, the one written just before 54 years after the last Nightmare War.

She explained what she wanted.  The changeling smiled and began to write.  She took time off to go tend her precious Eagle eggs, but returned to her task.

At a fuel stop, Daring Do was stretching her legs.  The Engineer approached her.  He was shaking his head.  “Ma'am, we will be in the Empire this evening!  I have never seen anything like this run! Princess Luna cleared the entire mainline, all the way to the Imperial Aerie.  The Empress herself ordered the border opened to us without the need for a stop!  We will be at the Imperial Aerie by no later than ten tomorrow.  This is our last stop before the Imperial Aerie.”

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[courtneytincher]

The F-111 Aardvark: The Assassin Strike Plane Sent to Kill Gaddafi

Desert Storm was the Aardvark’s last hurrah. The F-111 was finally withdrawn from U.S. Air Force service in 1998. Though the Aardvark was good at its job, it had high maintenance costs, and the Air Force judged that its fleet of F-15E Strike Eagles could take care of shorter-range attack missions, while B-1 bombers could handle longer range strikes.The General Dynamics F-111 Aardvark was a low-altitude strike plane born out of a shotgun wedding between competing Air Force and Navy requirements—with Defense Secretary McNamara as the minister. Despite its troubled adolescence, it grew into a capable high-tech night bomber that lasted decades in service, noted for its sleekly elegant profile.(This first appeared in 2016.)Troubled ConceptionIn the early 1960s, the Air Force came to realize that new, radar-guided surface-to-air missiles such as the Soviet SA-2 could reach its slow, high-altitude bombers. In response, it devised a new concept: a smaller long-range supersonic bomber that could skim close to the ground, below radar systems. At the same time, the U.S. Navy was looking for a fast, long-range carrier-based interceptor armed with air-to-air missiles that could take out Soviet bombers from a distance.Newly appointed Defense Secretary Robert McNamara was convinced that a single aircraft could satisfy both requirements, thereby saving on development costs. The Army and Navy were less keen on compromising their visions, but were forced to cooperate on the so-called TFX program. A contract was awarded to General Dynamics in 1962. Because the design was smaller than Air Force strategic bombers, and the service eschewed the “attack” designation used by the Navy, it was designated with an “F” for fighter.Revolutionary DesignThe F-111 was built around two powerful yet fuel-efficient TF30 turbofan engines with new afterburner technology. A capacious fuselage could accommodate bomb loads of up to 31,000 pounds and fuel for missions up 2,500 miles long, with external tanks adding another 1,000 miles. The large plane weighed twenty tons empty—or more than twice that loaded.The designers of the F-111 faced a challenge: they needed a plane that could fly at very high speeds, but still take off or land on a short runway. Using smaller wings would create less drag, allowing the aircraft to fly faster—but also create less lift, requiring the aircraft achieve higher speeds before it take off, in turn necessitating a longer runway. For example, the other supersonic fighter-bomber of the era, the F-105 Thunderchief, had very small wings—and required airstrips over a mile long for takeoff, limiting which airfields it could operate from.The F-111’s designers adopted the new technology of variable-geometry, or “swing” wings. These permitted the wings to swing out during takeoff to generate maximum lift, and then would tuck inward midflight to achieve higher speeds. The F-111 was the first of several major designs that used the technology.The two-man crew sat side by side in a cockpit pod. If they needed to escape, a rocket boosted the pod upward, which then floated to the ground on a parachute, just like a space capsule.A key innovation was the F-111’s revolutionary new terrain-following radar, which mapped the ground directly in front of the plane and then automatically adjusted the flight path to avoid collision. This allowed F-111s to fly as low as two hundred feet above the surface and make precise adjustments at high speed without crashing—even when flying at night, or in bad weather conditions. The F-111’s talent for hunting in darkness, nose close to the ground, was what earned it the appellation “Aardvark.”Early F-111s did show promise, capable of flying over the speed of sound at Mach 1.2 at low-altitude, or more than double that (Mach 2.5) at high altitude—all the while requiring only a 2,000 foot runway to land. It was the first tactical aircraft to cross from the United States to Europe without mid-air refueling.However, the F-111’s design was biased in favor of the Air Force’s specifications. The carrier-based interceptor version, the F-111B, performed abominably in trials, struggling to exceed Mach 1. The expensive forced compromise that was the naval version was finally scrapped, leaving everyone millions of dollars poorer. Many of the more promising design elements of the F-111B made it over to the F-14 Tomcat, however.Deployment in AsiaThe Air Force F-111s didn’t have an auspicious debut in combat. After a detachment of six F-111As was deployed to Vietnam in 1968, three of them crashed in just fifty-five missions, all of them accidents linked to defective wing stabilizers. The Air Force was forced to withdraw the F-111 and correct the flaw at a cost of $100 million.Recommended: Why an F-22 Raptor Would Crush an F-35 in a 'Dogfight'Recommended: Air War: Stealth F-22 Raptor vs. F-14 Tomcat (That Iran Still Flies)Recommended: A New Report Reveals Why There Won't Be Any 'New' F-22 RaptorsIt wasn’t until the Linebacker raids in 1972 that the F-Aardvark finally demonstrated its potential. Skimming beneath North Vietnam’s extensive radar network at night, F-111s blasted North Vietnamese airfields and air defense batteries, weakening the resistance to incoming B-52 raids. Aardvarks didn’t require the fighter escort, electronic warfare support, or midair refueling that other bombers required, and could operate in inclement weather. Only six F-111s were lost in combat over the course 4,000 missions during the war, one of the lowest loss rates of the war.F-111s ended up participating in the last combat operation undertaken by the U.S. military in South East Asia, when the Cambodian Khmer Rouge seized the container ship S.S. Mayaguez in May 1975. Two Aardvarks diverted from a training flight were the first to locate the Mayaguez. Later, an F-111 sank a Khmer Rouge patrol boat escorting the seized ship.Variants563 F-111s of all variants were built. After the F-111A, the F-111D and E models upgraded the Aardvark’s electronics and engine inlets, and increased the thrust of the engines. Another variant, the FB-111, was designed as a strategic bomber with improved engines, stretched two feet longer to accommodate additional fuel. Seventy-five of these served in Strategic Air Command units.The F-111C was sold exclusively to Australia. It incorporated a mixture of design elements of the FB-111 and F-111E.The definitive F-111F sported engines with thirty-five percent more thrust, an upgraded radar and a Pave Tack infrared targeting pod that allowed crew to identify targets on the ground and hit them with precision-guided munitions.Starting in the mid–1970s, forty-two F-111As were converted into unarmed EF-111A Raven electronic jamming platforms at a cost $1.5 billion. The EF-111’s key system was an ALQ-99E jamming pod that emitted radiation that scrambled radars in the vicinity, permitting entire formations of aircraft to pass in its wake undetected. When active, the jammer’s current literally caused the hairs on the crew’s heads to stand as it crackled through the plane. Thus, the Raven was known as the “Spark Vark” to its pilots. The EF-111 is distinguishable by the receiver pod on the tail fin.El Dorado Canyon RaidThe F-111 would return to the stage of world history in 1986, after the bombing of the La Belle nightclub perpetrated by Libyan agents in Berlin killed two U.S. servicemen. Reagan ordered an attack on Libyan dictator Muammar el-Qaddafi’s personal compound near Tripoli codenamed Operation El Dorado Canyon. It was an early attempt to assassinate a head of state by air attack.An array of twenty-five SAM sites defended Tripoli. A squadron of eighteen F-111Fs carried out the main attack, joined by four EF-111 Ravens to electronically scramble the defense radars. A separate Navy strike hit targets near Benghazi.Because the United States couldn’t get approval from mainland European countries for the raid, the Aardvarks took off from the UK and had to circumnavigate Spain, increasing total flight time to thirteen hours. In all, they would need to be refueled six times on the roundtrip. It was the longest fighter mission in history.As a feat of logistics, the raid was impressive—but unfortunately, both F-111’s performance and the conception of the operation as a whole left something to be desired. One F-111 was shot down, probably by a SAM, and its crew was lost. Four were unable to release weapons because of avionics failures, and one F-111 had to land in Spain because of an overheating engine. Seven missed their target, with several of the bombs landing in civilian areas, nearly hitting the French embassy.Qaddafi managed to escape thanks in part due to a last-minute warning from the prime minister of Italy. Eight of his children and his wife were wounded, and his infant adopted daughter Hanna reportedly killed. (There is some controversy as to Hanna’s identity and whether she survived). Though Qaddafi was shaken, he went on to instigate further terrorist attacks, notably the hijacking of Pan Am 73 and the bombing of Pan Am 103 over Lockerbie, Scotland.Aardvarks and Ravens Over IraqOn January 17, 1991, the opening night of Operation Desert Storm, Aardvarks zipped across the desert at a low altitude, targeting Iraqi air defenses and key military installations with laser-guided bombs. Meanwhile, EF-111 Ravens accompanied strike packages of coalition aircraft flying deep into Iraq, their jammers disabling Iraqi air-defense radars. In all, sixty-six F-111Fs and 18 F-111Es were deployed in the 1991 Iraq War, flying 5,000 missions.Contrary to popular belief, the Iraqi Air Force didn’t make things a cakewalk on the first day. Two F-111s were hit by infrared-guided R-23 missiles fired by MiG-23s. Another was struck by an R-60 missile shot by a MiG-29. In all three cases, the hardy Aardvarks made it back to base.An EF-111 was not so lucky in February. While taking evasive maneuvers after detecting an enemy plane, it crashed into the ground, losing both crew members.However, a Raven piloted by James Denton went on to score one of the most unusual aerial victories of the conflict.On the opening day of Desert Storm, Denton’s EF-111 was skimming just 400 feet above the ground in the morning darkness, leading the way for a strike package of F-15E fighter bombers with F-15C fighters for top cover. While passing the H3 airfield, an Iraqi Mirage F1 fighter fell in behind the Raven. Denton rolled sharply to the left, then to the right and pumped out chaff, evading a heat-seeking missile. As the Iraqi pilot attempted to match the Raven’s evasive maneuvers, he lost situational awareness and his jet slammed into the ground.Thus, the unarmed Raven variant scored the only aerial victory for the F-111 “fighter”.As Iraqi defenses thinned out, the Aardvarks were redirected to hit ground forces. The F-111F’s Pave Tack system proved effective at “tank plinking”—identifying Iraqi armored vehicles with its infrared scanner, and then precisely directing a laser-guided bomb on top of it. Over 1,500 Iraqi vehicles were “plinked” by F-111s.F-111s also targeted the oil manifold Saddam had sabotaged, stopping the flow of petroleum polluting the Persian Gulf.Desert Storm was the Aardvark’s last hurrah. The F-111 was finally withdrawn from U.S. Air Force service in 1998. Though the Aardvark was good at its job, it had high maintenance costs, and the Air Force judged that its fleet of F-15E Strike Eagles could take care of shorter-range attack missions, while B-1 bombers could handle longer range strikes.The EF-111, however, had no replacement in the Air Force inventory. It was left to Navy and Marine EA-6B Prowlers—and today, EA-18G Growlers—to fulfill the jamming role.Pigs of the PacificThe F-111 remained in service with the Australian Air Force until 2010, where it was affectionately known as the ‘Pig.’ Starting with a batch of 24 F-111Cs received in 1973, the Australians acquired an additional 15 FB-111s and four F-111As. Though never used in combat, the F-111s gave Australia the ability to project military force across the vast distances of the Pacific Ocean, enhancing its diplomatic clout.Pigs were the pride of Australian air shows, where they frequently performed a maneuver in which fuel was dumped and ignited with the afterburners, known as the Dump and Burn. Australia upgrades its F-111s to use anti-shipping missiles, and converted four into reconnaissance aircraft. Due to their high operating costs, however, they were finally replaced by twenty-four F-18F Super Hornets.While the F-111 has been retired, a similar aircraft remains in use today. The Russian Sukhoi Su-24 Fencer was conceived shortly after the F-111, and is remarkably similar in appearance and role, down to the swing wings. Not quite the Aardvark’s equal in terms of range, speed or weapons load, nearly three times more Su-24s were produced and over three hundred serve on today in various world air forces. They have been actively used in combat over Syria, Chechnya, Libya, Afghanistan and Ukraine. A Russian Su-24 attacking Syrian rebels was shot down in 2015 by a Turkish F-16, causing a major diplomatic incident.Sébastien Roblin holds a Master’s Degree in Conflict Resolution from Georgetown University and served as a university instructor for the Peace Corps in China. He has also worked in education, editing, and refugee resettlement in France and the United States. He currently writes on security and military history for War Is Boring.

from Yahoo News - Latest News & Headlines

Desert Storm was the Aardvark’s last hurrah. The F-111 was finally withdrawn from U.S. Air Force service in 1998. Though the Aardvark was good at its job, it had high maintenance costs, and the Air Force judged that its fleet of F-15E Strike Eagles could take care of shorter-range attack missions, while B-1 bombers could handle longer range strikes.The General Dynamics F-111 Aardvark was a low-altitude strike plane born out of a shotgun wedding between competing Air Force and Navy requirements—with Defense Secretary McNamara as the minister. Despite its troubled adolescence, it grew into a capable high-tech night bomber that lasted decades in service, noted for its sleekly elegant profile.(This first appeared in 2016.)Troubled ConceptionIn the early 1960s, the Air Force came to realize that new, radar-guided surface-to-air missiles such as the Soviet SA-2 could reach its slow, high-altitude bombers. In response, it devised a new concept: a smaller long-range supersonic bomber that could skim close to the ground, below radar systems. At the same time, the U.S. Navy was looking for a fast, long-range carrier-based interceptor armed with air-to-air missiles that could take out Soviet bombers from a distance.Newly appointed Defense Secretary Robert McNamara was convinced that a single aircraft could satisfy both requirements, thereby saving on development costs. The Army and Navy were less keen on compromising their visions, but were forced to cooperate on the so-called TFX program. A contract was awarded to General Dynamics in 1962. Because the design was smaller than Air Force strategic bombers, and the service eschewed the “attack” designation used by the Navy, it was designated with an “F” for fighter.Revolutionary DesignThe F-111 was built around two powerful yet fuel-efficient TF30 turbofan engines with new afterburner technology. A capacious fuselage could accommodate bomb loads of up to 31,000 pounds and fuel for missions up 2,500 miles long, with external tanks adding another 1,000 miles. The large plane weighed twenty tons empty—or more than twice that loaded.The designers of the F-111 faced a challenge: they needed a plane that could fly at very high speeds, but still take off or land on a short runway. Using smaller wings would create less drag, allowing the aircraft to fly faster—but also create less lift, requiring the aircraft achieve higher speeds before it take off, in turn necessitating a longer runway. For example, the other supersonic fighter-bomber of the era, the F-105 Thunderchief, had very small wings—and required airstrips over a mile long for takeoff, limiting which airfields it could operate from.The F-111’s designers adopted the new technology of variable-geometry, or “swing” wings. These permitted the wings to swing out during takeoff to generate maximum lift, and then would tuck inward midflight to achieve higher speeds. The F-111 was the first of several major designs that used the technology.The two-man crew sat side by side in a cockpit pod. If they needed to escape, a rocket boosted the pod upward, which then floated to the ground on a parachute, just like a space capsule.A key innovation was the F-111’s revolutionary new terrain-following radar, which mapped the ground directly in front of the plane and then automatically adjusted the flight path to avoid collision. This allowed F-111s to fly as low as two hundred feet above the surface and make precise adjustments at high speed without crashing—even when flying at night, or in bad weather conditions. The F-111’s talent for hunting in darkness, nose close to the ground, was what earned it the appellation “Aardvark.”Early F-111s did show promise, capable of flying over the speed of sound at Mach 1.2 at low-altitude, or more than double that (Mach 2.5) at high altitude—all the while requiring only a 2,000 foot runway to land. It was the first tactical aircraft to cross from the United States to Europe without mid-air refueling.However, the F-111’s design was biased in favor of the Air Force’s specifications. The carrier-based interceptor version, the F-111B, performed abominably in trials, struggling to exceed Mach 1. The expensive forced compromise that was the naval version was finally scrapped, leaving everyone millions of dollars poorer. Many of the more promising design elements of the F-111B made it over to the F-14 Tomcat, however.Deployment in AsiaThe Air Force F-111s didn’t have an auspicious debut in combat. After a detachment of six F-111As was deployed to Vietnam in 1968, three of them crashed in just fifty-five missions, all of them accidents linked to defective wing stabilizers. The Air Force was forced to withdraw the F-111 and correct the flaw at a cost of $100 million.Recommended: Why an F-22 Raptor Would Crush an F-35 in a 'Dogfight'Recommended: Air War: Stealth F-22 Raptor vs. F-14 Tomcat (That Iran Still Flies)Recommended: A New Report Reveals Why There Won't Be Any 'New' F-22 RaptorsIt wasn’t until the Linebacker raids in 1972 that the F-Aardvark finally demonstrated its potential. Skimming beneath North Vietnam’s extensive radar network at night, F-111s blasted North Vietnamese airfields and air defense batteries, weakening the resistance to incoming B-52 raids. Aardvarks didn’t require the fighter escort, electronic warfare support, or midair refueling that other bombers required, and could operate in inclement weather. Only six F-111s were lost in combat over the course 4,000 missions during the war, one of the lowest loss rates of the war.F-111s ended up participating in the last combat operation undertaken by the U.S. military in South East Asia, when the Cambodian Khmer Rouge seized the container ship S.S. Mayaguez in May 1975. Two Aardvarks diverted from a training flight were the first to locate the Mayaguez. Later, an F-111 sank a Khmer Rouge patrol boat escorting the seized ship.Variants563 F-111s of all variants were built. After the F-111A, the F-111D and E models upgraded the Aardvark’s electronics and engine inlets, and increased the thrust of the engines. Another variant, the FB-111, was designed as a strategic bomber with improved engines, stretched two feet longer to accommodate additional fuel. Seventy-five of these served in Strategic Air Command units.The F-111C was sold exclusively to Australia. It incorporated a mixture of design elements of the FB-111 and F-111E.The definitive F-111F sported engines with thirty-five percent more thrust, an upgraded radar and a Pave Tack infrared targeting pod that allowed crew to identify targets on the ground and hit them with precision-guided munitions.Starting in the mid–1970s, forty-two F-111As were converted into unarmed EF-111A Raven electronic jamming platforms at a cost $1.5 billion. The EF-111’s key system was an ALQ-99E jamming pod that emitted radiation that scrambled radars in the vicinity, permitting entire formations of aircraft to pass in its wake undetected. When active, the jammer’s current literally caused the hairs on the crew’s heads to stand as it crackled through the plane. Thus, the Raven was known as the “Spark Vark” to its pilots. The EF-111 is distinguishable by the receiver pod on the tail fin.El Dorado Canyon RaidThe F-111 would return to the stage of world history in 1986, after the bombing of the La Belle nightclub perpetrated by Libyan agents in Berlin killed two U.S. servicemen. Reagan ordered an attack on Libyan dictator Muammar el-Qaddafi’s personal compound near Tripoli codenamed Operation El Dorado Canyon. It was an early attempt to assassinate a head of state by air attack.An array of twenty-five SAM sites defended Tripoli. A squadron of eighteen F-111Fs carried out the main attack, joined by four EF-111 Ravens to electronically scramble the defense radars. A separate Navy strike hit targets near Benghazi.Because the United States couldn’t get approval from mainland European countries for the raid, the Aardvarks took off from the UK and had to circumnavigate Spain, increasing total flight time to thirteen hours. In all, they would need to be refueled six times on the roundtrip. It was the longest fighter mission in history.As a feat of logistics, the raid was impressive—but unfortunately, both F-111’s performance and the conception of the operation as a whole left something to be desired. One F-111 was shot down, probably by a SAM, and its crew was lost. Four were unable to release weapons because of avionics failures, and one F-111 had to land in Spain because of an overheating engine. Seven missed their target, with several of the bombs landing in civilian areas, nearly hitting the French embassy.Qaddafi managed to escape thanks in part due to a last-minute warning from the prime minister of Italy. Eight of his children and his wife were wounded, and his infant adopted daughter Hanna reportedly killed. (There is some controversy as to Hanna’s identity and whether she survived). Though Qaddafi was shaken, he went on to instigate further terrorist attacks, notably the hijacking of Pan Am 73 and the bombing of Pan Am 103 over Lockerbie, Scotland.Aardvarks and Ravens Over IraqOn January 17, 1991, the opening night of Operation Desert Storm, Aardvarks zipped across the desert at a low altitude, targeting Iraqi air defenses and key military installations with laser-guided bombs. Meanwhile, EF-111 Ravens accompanied strike packages of coalition aircraft flying deep into Iraq, their jammers disabling Iraqi air-defense radars. In all, sixty-six F-111Fs and 18 F-111Es were deployed in the 1991 Iraq War, flying 5,000 missions.Contrary to popular belief, the Iraqi Air Force didn’t make things a cakewalk on the first day. Two F-111s were hit by infrared-guided R-23 missiles fired by MiG-23s. Another was struck by an R-60 missile shot by a MiG-29. In all three cases, the hardy Aardvarks made it back to base.An EF-111 was not so lucky in February. While taking evasive maneuvers after detecting an enemy plane, it crashed into the ground, losing both crew members.However, a Raven piloted by James Denton went on to score one of the most unusual aerial victories of the conflict.On the opening day of Desert Storm, Denton’s EF-111 was skimming just 400 feet above the ground in the morning darkness, leading the way for a strike package of F-15E fighter bombers with F-15C fighters for top cover. While passing the H3 airfield, an Iraqi Mirage F1 fighter fell in behind the Raven. Denton rolled sharply to the left, then to the right and pumped out chaff, evading a heat-seeking missile. As the Iraqi pilot attempted to match the Raven’s evasive maneuvers, he lost situational awareness and his jet slammed into the ground.Thus, the unarmed Raven variant scored the only aerial victory for the F-111 “fighter”.As Iraqi defenses thinned out, the Aardvarks were redirected to hit ground forces. The F-111F’s Pave Tack system proved effective at “tank plinking”—identifying Iraqi armored vehicles with its infrared scanner, and then precisely directing a laser-guided bomb on top of it. Over 1,500 Iraqi vehicles were “plinked” by F-111s.F-111s also targeted the oil manifold Saddam had sabotaged, stopping the flow of petroleum polluting the Persian Gulf.Desert Storm was the Aardvark’s last hurrah. The F-111 was finally withdrawn from U.S. Air Force service in 1998. Though the Aardvark was good at its job, it had high maintenance costs, and the Air Force judged that its fleet of F-15E Strike Eagles could take care of shorter-range attack missions, while B-1 bombers could handle longer range strikes.The EF-111, however, had no replacement in the Air Force inventory. It was left to Navy and Marine EA-6B Prowlers—and today, EA-18G Growlers—to fulfill the jamming role.Pigs of the PacificThe F-111 remained in service with the Australian Air Force until 2010, where it was affectionately known as the ‘Pig.’ Starting with a batch of 24 F-111Cs received in 1973, the Australians acquired an additional 15 FB-111s and four F-111As. Though never used in combat, the F-111s gave Australia the ability to project military force across the vast distances of the Pacific Ocean, enhancing its diplomatic clout.Pigs were the pride of Australian air shows, where they frequently performed a maneuver in which fuel was dumped and ignited with the afterburners, known as the Dump and Burn. Australia upgrades its F-111s to use anti-shipping missiles, and converted four into reconnaissance aircraft. Due to their high operating costs, however, they were finally replaced by twenty-four F-18F Super Hornets.While the F-111 has been retired, a similar aircraft remains in use today. The Russian Sukhoi Su-24 Fencer was conceived shortly after the F-111, and is remarkably similar in appearance and role, down to the swing wings. Not quite the Aardvark’s equal in terms of range, speed or weapons load, nearly three times more Su-24s were produced and over three hundred serve on today in various world air forces. They have been actively used in combat over Syria, Chechnya, Libya, Afghanistan and Ukraine. A Russian Su-24 attacking Syrian rebels was shot down in 2015 by a Turkish F-16, causing a major diplomatic incident.Sébastien Roblin holds a Master’s Degree in Conflict Resolution from Georgetown University and served as a university instructor for the Peace Corps in China. He has also worked in education, editing, and refugee resettlement in France and the United States. He currently writes on security and military history for War Is Boring.

August 18, 2019 at 09:07AM via IFTTT