#this was WAY shorter than I intended....fuck. sorry.

[headcanonenthusiast]

König NSFW headcanons

It was certainly a close call on the last poll, but König won! So, as promised, here are some NSFW headcanons of this absolute behemoth of a man 😎

I also like König, personally, but it will never not be hilarious to me that this dude doesn't have nearly as much screentime, development, and well, almost everything compared to other characters like Price or Ghost yet SKYROCKETED to popularity while the other members of KorTac are ignored 😭 Ppl like what they like ig.

(I completely understand that this type of content is not everyone's cup of tea, and that's ok! But, please scroll and ignore if this type of content isn't your thing as opposed to leaving any sort of negative comments.)

NSFW under the cut.

-He's quite obviously noticed by now that he's tall as fuck.

-And the cocky bastard 100% uses that to his advantage.

-Will back you up against anything and trap you there. The wall, a countertop, a corner, anywhere and everywhere he can trap you with his body.

-Now, how him trapping you plays out depends on how you act.

-If you're more playful and disobedient? He's a lot more rough, more demanding, more determined to pin you down and take what he wants.

-"Are you going to do what I say? Or are you going to keep acting like a fucking slut?"

-But if you're more inclined to submit to him, he's the exact opposite. He treats you so delicately, as if you were an expensive vase he doesn't want to break.

-"Oh, I'm sorry, meine liebe. Did I startle you? I didn't mean to."

-Then he's gently pulling you into his chest as his giant hands roam your body.

-Major size kink. The shorter you are compared to him = the gentler he is. Just feel like he doesn't have the heart to be too harsh on you if the height difference is more drastic.

-"No, no, no. I'm not doing that to you, meine liebe."

-His hands run all over your body in a gentle manner, practically cooing and begging at you to change your request. He's too anxious about hurting you if you're much shorter.

-"I don't think you could take it, schatz. You're so much smaller than me, there's no way it won't hurt for you."

-Does love hearing you beg, though. So if you ask really nicely, and repeat your chosen safeword like 50 times, and give him more time to prep you, he might give in.

-"Fine, fine. But, you tell me the moment it hurts, ja? Ja, good. Good girl/boy."

-The way he acts is honestly so dependant on how his partner acts, although he almost always insists on being dominate. That's set in stone.

-But as much as he insists on being on top, he won't be too rough unless you have consented beforehand and act like more of a brat.

-So focused on your eyes at all times, not just when he's pounding you.

-"What? Why are you eyeing me like that?"

-And then when you beg for sex, he'll chuckle with his arms crossed, an amused smirk on his face.

-"Oh, that's why. Alright, fine. I'll give you what you want."

-Does make you beg no matter how you act, though.

-"If, and only if, you ask nicely."

-And if you refuse? May God have mercy on you, because König certainly won't.

-"And just who the hell are you to speak to me that way, huh? When did you become such a brat?"

-Narrows his eyes and is absolutely appaled when you swear at him. Like, hand to his chest, overly dramatic ass expression on his face as if you've actually hurt his feelings and this isn't all consensual.

-"Fine, then I'll just find a better use for that filthy little mouth of yours."

-A huge sucker (no pun intended) for blowjobs.

-If you're someone who likes it rougher and prefers being a brat, he's gonna go a bit harsher on your throat. He gives you a long af lecture for no reason, ranting while his giant fingers dig into your hair.

-"Why do you make things so difficult, liebling? Why?"

-Big fan of fucking you dumb. Prays that he's able to basically turn your mind to mush everytime. And when he does, his ego skyrockets.

-"It must be because you're such a little slut for me. Is that right? Habe ich damit recht, liebling? Was für eine Schlampe du für mich bist."

-But, if you give him a blowjob and are listening to him, it'd go something more like this.

-"You don't have to take it all at once, schatz. It's too much for you."

-"Careful, darling. Don't choke on my cock, now. Don't make your throat sore."

-And he's gently rubbing the back of your head, content hums and moans falling from his lips as he admires you sucking his cock.

-5 inches soft, 7 inches hard and you already know it's fat asf (lord have MERCY 😶)

-Carries you around a lot. Will gladly fuck you with you in his arms if you let him.

-Always grabbing onto your hips, thighs, and even your belly if you're chubbier. He just needs a partner he can grab onto while having sex.

-Really likes to tap the tip of his cock against your clit/dick/ass. Smiles if it makes you twitch a little.

-Praises your pussy/ass constantly for how tight it is.

-"Fuck, this pussy/ass is so tight. Feels so good.."

-And it's either he's cumming super deep inside of you, or he's pulling out at the last minute to paint your pussy lips/ass cheeks with his cum.

-Always enjoys seeing the finished product afterwards, whether it's inside or on you.

-And if you're chubbier? He wants to cum on that belly. In fact, he will. There's barely anything to stop him (besides you using your safeword, ofc) from cumming on your belly.

-"There we go, my perfect little liebling. You look so pretty/handsome painted in my cum."

-He also seems to count eating you out/sucking you off as aftercare. He'll gladly, and very gently, use his mouth on you so you can cum again.

-Then for the actual aftercare, it's fairly simple. He doesn't talk much, just wanting to pass out, but he'll put your head on his chest, a hand on your back with light kisses pressed to your scalp. He allows himself to become your bed as you both drift off.

-And don't worry if you'd prefer more talking for doing so well for him, he'll be sure to properly praise you tomorrow. The entire morning after sex, he's doting upon your every whim, ensuring that he didn't hurt you at all.

Translations: mein/meine = my

Liebling = darling

Schatz = treasure/sweetheart

Liebe = love

Habe ich damit recht, liebling? Was für eine Schlampe du für mich bist. = Am I right about that, darling? What a slut you are for me.

Yall I wrote this while half asleep, I'm so sorry if there's any spelling mistakes 😭

I also had fun with this. I love König just as much as the next basic König lover who's only ever heard of him from tiktok, but I cannot take him 100% seriously, as terrifying as he is 😭 its probably bc of his voice ngl.

Anyways, Ghost is up next! Hope you enjoyed.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

hey so i finally wrote more witch au!

enjoy, friends!! though it's significantly shorter than the first part

pairing: steddie | word count: 2,004 | rated: T

Mama thinks that Steve’s had a love spell on him this whole time.

“Since when?” He’d asked.

“I don’t know, my dear, maybe since before you were even born.”

“What?! How?! I thought you said there was no such thing as love spells!” He knows that’s not true.

“There are none that are worth the pain.” she repeats, trying to placate him.

“Yeah, well.” Steve huffs, dropping his hands to his hips and heaving a sigh.

“But there are some that are rumored to be true love spells, soulmate spells.” She continues on when she sees the look on his face. “Rumored, Steven, only ever rumors.”

“Okay, so what do the rumors have to say about them?”

“Every spell like that I’ve ever heard of of this nature is specific to each caster.”

“So I’ve had this spell on me for possibly my whole life, and there’s no way to know anything about it or about the caster.”

“...I’m sorry, honey.”

“Maybe there are clues in the words you have.” Robin cuts in, reaching for the notepad and sliding it in front of her.

Steve huffs, “I need to know the whole thing; there’s definitely words missing.”

“Should you eat more bread?” Robin asks, already sliding the previously abandoned plate of bread towards him.

“You shouldn’t overwhelm yourself.” Mama says, pushing the plate back. “We don’t know if there’s a trigger to the spell, or if you and the caster’s paths will just cross one day, maybe they don’t even know they cast it.”

Steve blinks at her. “So I have a true love and they might not even want me?”

“No!” Robin belts out immediately.

“No, of course not,” Mama says, continuing on. “The one known thing about any spell like this is that they only work on those who are receptive to it.”

“So some weirdo can’t put you under their spell?”

“Yes, exactly Robin; Steve, whatever this is, whoever this was, they love you with all that they are. And you them.”

“I don’t even know who it is! How can I?”

Mama doesn’t have an answer besides saying “Your soul must know them already.”; Their conversation was over soon after that.

Steve spends the next couple days silent and brooding. He can’t stop thinking about how he’s what, marked to love someone he doesn’t even know? How’s that fair?

It could be any random person on the street that thought he was hot, some weird old guy or a lovesick middle schooler..He only just turned 25 the day before the bread incident, but he’s saddled with this huge unknown that isn’t going to get better any time soon?

Okay, apparently not just some weirdo according to Mama, but still. Un-fucking fair all the same.

He’s also pissed that he can’t give anyone all the baked goods he’s made within that time. Each and every one of them ending up with a sour aftertaste. 

“Damn witch bullshit…” he grumbles to himself, only half serious, as he scrapes another batch of sour sugar cookies into the trash.

He’s salty, okay? Pun intended. If he hadn’t ever learned the truth about the powers over food his grandmother (and now him too, apparently) has, he could’ve just excused the batch after batch being off on bad butter, or old flour.. Something other than his mood being what’s ruining his cookies.

That’s what he’d done every other time something he’s made tasted off, now he knows it was him the whole time.

Mama comes in then, he doesn’t have to look up to know the look she’s giving him.

Steve leaves the bowl of leftover dough on the counter, mumbles out a “I gotta go.”, then tromps out the back door and into the woods behind his grandparents’ home. 

He supposes it’s good that they live just outside the city, really, having the trees to escape under like this has helped him before, and he’s hoping will help him now.

Meandering through the underbrush, he strolls along until he reaches the small clearing he’d claimed for himself when he was what, 8? 9? Doesn’t matter. It’s his spot to get away from anything he needs to.

He sits down against the big oak at the edge of the clearing and tips his head back toward the sun filtering down on him through a gap in the canopy above him. He breathes in the fresh air, focuses on the warmth hitting his face, and just exists there for a while, slipping in and out of a soft snooze.

Suddenly, he’s shocked out of his dozing by the sound of twigs snapping underfoot.

If it were coming from behind him, he’d expect it’d be Robin coming to find him here, but it’s not. It’s coming from ahead of him across the clearing.

Steve stands and presses back into the trunk of the tree, wondering if there’s bears in these woods when a person stumbles through the tree line.

The man is thin, about Steve’s age if he were to guess, and covered in dirt, his light wash overalls and his boots are caked in it. His hair is long, pulled half-back away from his face and full of bracken from the forest.

He also seems to be in a daze, staring with dark eyes at Steve with an unfathomable expression. 

It shifts soon after, though, warming into a watery smile. “I’ve come home to you.” he says, clear as day, then collapses onto the grass.

“Oh, shit!” Steve rushes forward, kneeling down beside the man and quickly checking him over for injuries. 

Steve presses his fingers to the man's pulse confirm it's still there (it is) and there don’t seem to be any bruises or breaks in his limbs, so he goes to his head, feeling quickly under the tangles in his hair for any blood, any knots.

Nothing. There’s nothing apparently outwardly wrong with him.

“Hey, hey, wake up! You gotta stay with me, man.” he says, shaking him lightly. 

The other man’s head lolls to the side and his eyes open a crack, his lips quirking up into a smile. “M’love…”

“What is your name?” Steve insists in a slow, clear voice.

Instead of answering, the man raises his hand slowly to cup Steve’s cheek. “...v’wait’d so long..” he slurs, then goes limp again, his hand dropping to his chest.

“Oh no you don’t,” Steve gets his feet under him and gathers the man up into his arms in a bridal carry. His steps falter when he feels how light the man is in his arms, how much more thin he is than how he’d looked.

Steve adjusts his hold on him, making sure not to let his head hang backward over his forearm, and rushes back toward the house.

“Mama!” he shouts as soon as he clears the treeline into the yard.

She’s at the back sliding door as soon as he is. “Steve, honey, what—”

He pushes past her, hurrying to the spare room on the first floor with her on his heels. “I found him wandering the woods, I couldn’t just–I don’t know what’s wrong with him, Mama.”

She gestures him forward to the bed, “Put him there, on top the covers,”

He does, setting him down as if he’s made of glass.

As soon as the man is out of his arms, Mama takes his place. “Nothing seems broken, but he’s so light, he needs food, he needs water, should I call 911? I don’t even know his na—” he rambles on, not even realizing he’d started to pace until his grandma stops him in his tracks.

“Steve, listen to me.” she says, pulling at his wrists gently, removing his hands from his hair. “He will be fine. Now, go get a bowl of warm water and a washcloth and come straight back here.”

He nods dazedly, stumbling backward out the doorway and spinning to the kitchen.

Steve slides to a stop on the tile floor in front of the kitchen sink at the same time Robin gets home from her classes that day.

“I have a date!”

Wait, he needs the bowl first. He scrambles to the opposite counter for the large mixing bowl Mama uses for her damn bread and fishes it out with a clatter of everything that that had been in front of it on the shelf tumbling out to the floor.

“Steve?”

Should he put soap in it?

“Steve!”

No, Mama just said ‘warm water’, not ‘warm soapy water’. He nods to himself and turns on the tap, reaching under the sink next for a washcloth.

“Steven Otis Harrington.”

“Oh, hey Robin, you’re home.” The bowl’s almost full.

“Steve.” She spins him to face her, holding tightly to his shoulders.

He tries to twist back around futilely, “The bowl–”

“Steve. What. Is. Happening.”

He blinks at her a couple times. “Robin!” He pulls her to him in a tight hug. “Holy shit, you’re not gonna believe–”

“Steve, the bowl?”

“Shit,” It’s nearly full when he shuts off the tap, so he dumps a bit out and picks it up with both hands, “C’mon, he’s this way.”

“He? Who’s he?”

“Dunno, I found him in the woods.”

“Aw, Steve, you can’t just take in any ol’ stray dog you happen to find out in the wood—-” Robin cuts herself off as they get to the bedroom door. “Ohhkay…so..not a dog.”

“He looks to be dehydrated, but I don’t think he has any injuries.” Mama says in lieu of a greeting when they return. Steve sits down on the opposite edge of the bed that she is, and carefully passes over the bowl of water without looking at her.

The stranger immediately takes in his attention. His soft features, dark brows…Steve starts to pull the bits of brush out of the man’s hair, untangling twigs, leaves, and he can already see one of those pesky prickle things twisted into the hair next to his ear.

Mama sets the bowl on the sidetable, and gets to work immediately, wiping the dirt and grime from the man’s face and arms. “Robin dear, can you grab one of those sports drinks Pa loves so much outta the fridge? And a bottle of water.”

“Of course!” she says, darting back into the kitchen.

“We’ll need to get some food in him too,”

“We should make him scones.” Steve states apropos of nothing. “With chocolate chunks.”

“Maybe after he’s a bit better, sweetie.” Mama scoffs, wringing out the washcloth. “He needs healthy fats first, butter, oatmeal, avocado, things like that.”

“I can do that!” Steve says, jumping up excitedly. His former task forgotten, he rushes out of the bedroom and to the kitchen, nearly bowling Robin over in the process.

He gets to work on simple eggs and toast for their houseguest, avoiding Mama’s lucky bread in favor of his own store-bought stuff for now, he can make him his own later. 

As he scrambles the eggs, he focuses everything in him on the stranger, on getting him better, making him healthy again. He’s not exactly quite sure how to do what Mama does, but the sour cookie dough says he’ll do it without thinking about it…kinda.

Whatever. 

All he knows is that he’s telling the fuck outta these eggs to make his love better. Make him whole again.. Make him—

Wait..

Did he just refer to the random man laid up in the other room as his love?

Is…

The fugue state he’d been in since first laying eyes on the man crackles away just long enough for him to think.

What did he say before he collapsed? "I've come home to you."?

That..sounds right....why is that so famili—

Steve's eyes leave the pan of eggs in front of him and snap immediately to the scrap of paper he'd scrambled for a few nights ago.

Is he…?

And of course, as if the words weren't already plastered permanently onto his grey matter, there they are, plain as day.

tagging those that were interested on the last part!!! @mugloversonly @kittydeadbones @maybequizas @queenie-ofthe-void @newtstabber @angeldreamsoffanfic @eyesofshinigami @sunflower-trashbaby @perseus-notjackson @kaspurrcat @quinns-shadowy-arts

also, idk if this counts for it, but one of february's songs for @steddiesongfics is work song! which is what this fic is based on! 😊😊

[miley1442111]

Hi my love!

I'm sorry if this is a bother, but I saw you were taking requests and I really wanted to see this one written and you do such amazing writing.

Please don't feel pressured into writing this tho

So, we all know Derek is like, 6'2" is, right, so the girls he talks to are shorter than him, but I was wondering if you could write something with a female reader where she is almost as tall as him, and decided to wear heels to something, like a party or a gala or something, and she feels insecure about being so tall and he's just swooning over her because look at his tall woman, his amazing tall woman who works as an FBI profiler and can literally kick anyone's ass and just look how cool his girlfriend is.

Like, if you wanted to you could write about how some guy made a comment and Derek literally had to be held back because he was full on ready to throw hands for the reader.

Bonus points of she's like really fit, like she definitely hits the gym and you can see it

Again, you don't have to write it if you don't want to/don't feel comfortable, I just thought it would be cute

OMG I love this idea, it's so freaking cute! I had so much fun with this and istg I'm so sick of y/n always being some small fragile little thing in fics, it drives me crazy!!!!

Thank you for requesting my dear ! :)

my girl- d.morgan

a/n: intended for tall fem!reader but as per usual imagine what you like :)

summary: derek comforts you after something happens at the yearly award show

pairings: derek morgan x reader, (platonic) bau team x reader

warnings: insecurities, suggestive tones, crying, fluff :)

You loved your body, seriously you did. It was your vessel, your home. You nourished it and took care of yourself. 

But sometimes you wanted to feel shorter. Being tall has its advantages, and yes, you knew you were more than conventionally attractive, but it didn’t stop the nagging feeling in the back of your head, telling you it was weird that when you wore heels, your boyfriend was looking up at you, not down. Derek was 6’2. You were 6’2 ½ with these heels on. You were taller, which was fine, but it played in your mind more than you had wanted it to for the entire night. 

Derek on the other hand? When he saw you in that perfect dress he didn’t think he’d have the willpower to actually stop himself from fucking you before the event. He felt so lucky. His beautiful, ass-kicking girlfriend was wearing a dress that he’d bought her and she looked fucking delicious. He knew you were gorgeous, especially when he was regularly graced with the image of you naked, but this was another level. On your latest mission you’d taken the unSub down on your own and he swore he’d never been more turned on. The way you just overpowered him, getting his knife off him and cuffing him. You were the most beautiful person in his eyes, you always would be.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Walking into the gala, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself, gripping and pawing at you, kissing you constantly. Though, he could see something was wrong. Was this gala too much for you? Did you want to go home early? He wouldn’t have complained.  

“You alright baby?” He asked as another award was announced. 

“Fine,” you sighed, staring into your plate of food as you just moved the mashed potatoes around. 

“Baby,” He placed his hand on your thigh, grabbing your attention. “Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing.”

Derek frowned. You weren’t usually one for keeping things from him. “Baby-”

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you announced to the table, and stood up. You avoided Derek’s concerned eyes and he got up to follow you. 

“How’s the weather up there?” A drunk asshole asked you and he saw the way your face subtly contorted into upset, trying to hide tears. 

He saw red.  

His eyes darkened and his fists balled at his sides. “You wanna say that again?”

The drunk asshole sobered slightly after seeing the seriousness on Derek’s face. 

“Derek it’s fine-” you pleaded, wanting to sink into the floor. 

“No it’s fucking not. Say it again.”

David and Aaron got up from the table, stalking over before Derek swung at the guy. 

They were too late. 

“Derek!” You shouted as the other two pulled him off the man. Other tables were starting to stare and you felt perpetually worse. You should’ve just worn flats. 

“You can shut up next time, yeah?” Derek jeered at the bleeding man as Aaron and David held him back.

“Calm down,” Aaron ordered cooly, and Derek instantly pulled himself out of their arms,brushing them off. 

“I’m calm,” he said. He was not calm. No one got to insult his girl. 

“Can we just go home?” You whispered through shaky breaths. Derek’s attention was all on you.

“Of course we can.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The drive home was silent, his hand on your thigh as you attempted to calm down. 

Derek was wracking his brain for why you’d been off all night but came up empty. 

What was wrong?

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You kicked off your shoes, practically running to the bathroom and locking it behind you. Derek sighed to himself as he set down the keys, deciding to grab himself a beer. 

You took off your makeup, your dress, and showered, trying to wash your insecurities away. You knew you were pretty, you knew Derek loved you the way you were. 

Sometimes insecurities just get the better of you.  

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sheepishly walked into your bedroom and saw Derek on the bed, waiting for you. 

“Can we talk?” He asked and you nodded slowly. “What’s wrong?”

And with that, the floodgates opened. You pushed your face into his chest, crying against him as he comforted you. “I just… I know I’m ‘pretty’ and all but… sometimes I just-”

“Hey, you are pretty, so goddamn pretty baby,” he smiled at you and it eased some of the hurt in you. “But I get that you don’t always feel like it, which is fine too, y’know why?”

“Why?” You snuffled out, looking up at him through running mascara.

“Because I can alway remind you, my pretty girl,” he smirked, and sealed his statement with a kiss. 

You felt better, knowing you had someone who loved you no matter what. 

It’s not like Derek minded, he was so head over heels for you you could’ve had two heads and he wouldn't have cared. You were his.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

criminal minds masterlist:)

[softlymaximoff]

Yes, your Highness

18+ ONLY! MEN & MINORS DNI (blank blogs will be blocked you do not have my permission to republish my work onto any platform.

A/N: I’m obsessed with any wanda variant I need help, also this is way shorter than intended and no smut just dynamic play soooo I’m sorry and have fun hopefully you like it

Summary: your princess has had enough of your attitude and isn’t afraid to let everybody know who you belong to.

Characters: Dark!Princess! Wanda, Gn!Reader

Warnings: degrading, humiliation, violence (if you squint I think?), corruption, mind control, pet play, Dom/sub dynamics, choking, breath play, objectifying.

Word Count: 846 😭

"How hard is it to just try and look like you’re grateful for once!" Wanda seethed as she pulled you away from the ballroom. "Wanda it's not my fault your daddy doesn't like me! He’s some mean old prick who hates everyone who even looks at you" You snapped but whimpered as her grip tightened on your arms. "Don't you ever talk about my daddy like that again Y/n. You could cost me the throne you moron!” A sharp slap echoed the hallways and you choked on a broken gasp. Your eyes filled with light tears as you kept your mouth shut, you knew not to talk back. She was in her element and her eyes were slowly darkening to their reddish-hue.

“You are nothing but a stable hand, a dirty peasant, a street rat and if it wasn’t for my daddy, the King, took pity on you you would be fed to the pigs. Do I make myself clear Y/n?” She grabbed your cheeks between her thumb and pointer finger forcing you to slightly part your lips. “Yes, your Highness” you whispered out and almost whined when she let go and rested a hand on the base of your neck. “Speak up dog” her voice was cold and sent chills down your spine.

“Yes you make yourself clear your Highness” you spoke a little louder and she rolled her eyes. “Pathetic. Utterly pathetic” she grumbled and attached her lips to your neck sucking angry marks along your jawline. “I won’t hesitate to make a scene out there to show everyone how ungrateful you really are. Throwing dirty looks at people who are just trying to be nice to their princess” she threatened and you couldn’t help but huff at her words. “Pets don’t speak, what has gotten into your dumb little brain today” she pulled back and searched your eyes to see if you were pushing her buttons purposely or if you were really upset over something.

“Speak mutt, what’s wrong” she raised an eyebrow and you just whined, a moan threatening to escape as she ran a thumb over the many forming bruises along your throat and clavicle. “My princess” You stumbled lightly over your words and looked away when she pursed her lips. “You’re even more pathetic than I thought. Of course I’m yours you silly toy” she smiled softly for a brief moment before steeling her eyes once again.

“Now do I have to ask again, how fucking hard is it to pretend you’re getting along with my father” she narrowed her eyes and grabbed the base of your neck, pushing you against the walls of the open hallway. You whimpered when her hand squeezed with a little more force than normal and she kicked your legs apart, pushing her knee in between them. “You’re such a stupid mutt. So easy to whore yourself out for your princess” she mumbled before she kissed you. Dominating the kiss and biting down on your lipstick covered lips, she sucked harshly drawing a little blood.

“Wanda” you pleaded desperately and rolled your hips as her eyes glowed a deep red. “Shut up” she growled and applied more pressure, almost cutting your breathing off. You eyes slipped shut and you parted your lips for a brief moment and she used that to her advantage, shoving two fingers in. “Suck” She demanded softly and you did just that. “My good pet” She hummed and you looked up at her all doe-eyed.

“Who knew a street rat could be such a good dog for royalty” she chuckled darkly and took her fingers out. Her eyes were now completely red, all traces of green lost. “Huh? My dumb little pet ready to submit. All brainless and needy” her magic floating heavily through your thoughts. You were nothing but a poor lowlife and you were so deeply grateful for everything the kingdom had offered you. A low throaty whine sounded out in the hallway and your knees buckled. “I think we should let everyone know who you belong to” She pulled away from you and took the sight in.

You had an angry handprint disguising itself as a choker collar, your hair was neatly dishevelled from its up-do from earlier and your lipstick was smeared. “You’re mine” she growled before walking towards the common ballroom, your wrists trapped tightly in a single hand of hers. “People of the Kingdom, Mother, Father, I have an announcement to make” She declared and pulled you out in front of her, showing you off like a prized hunt.

“Y/n will no longer be service of the Kingdom but of me. She is to be my pet, my dog, my toy, what ever title I see fit until the sun stops shining on our land. Daddy I know you don’t like her that much but I promise you I won’t let her get out of hand” she finished with a stern nod and turned to you. You were hers. Completely hers and you were to be forever grateful her kingdom spared your life.

<><><>

Tag list: @youresuchamom @yelenasdiary @cromaximoff @deadlynightshade418

[fairycosmos]

hi, just curious if you're able to answer this, what happened with becca? currently struggling with a sibling with addiction issues and wanted to get some perspective

she'd been on and off drugs experimentally/recreationally since she was like 17, but when the pandemic hit in 2020 she spiralled very quickly over the course of a few months into addiction which was worsened by her dating (and moving the guy into our house) another person struggling with severe addiction. we tried to kick him out when she got bad but they basically went out onto the streets together so we had to let them back in. to make a long story much shorter she was on a lot more shit than we realised, she choked in her sleep on aug 25 2020 and had a cardiac arrest. cpr didn't help, her shitty boyfriend didn't help, nothing helped. it was too late basically. all of this is messed up and blurry in my head so there's much more to it than that but that's the gist of it. in the weeks leading up i tried tirelessly to talk to her about it, mostly over text even though we were all living in the same house but in seperate rooms due to covid at the time. i would send her these big walls of text about how this wasn't right and how bad things were and she would agree but basically just mollify me, lie to me etc though i do believe that having those conversations was nessecary. just letting her know that i understand, that i'm here, that i know she's scared and in immense pain but that we can make small steps in the right direction together etc. while also being almost harsh and upfront about the harm she is causing and the way she was hurting herself and everyone around her. she had a doctor's appointment booked the week after she died to talk about the drugs and i do think she intended on going, but she was just such a mess. i don't have any concrete advice because it felt so hopeless at the time, talking to her was like talking to a brick wall. i was so fucking angry and upset about her situation and the way she was that it was hard to even interact with her sometimes. the spiral was so fast with her and that made it so difficult to guage what to do. but if you can continue talking to them on a human level, bringing up examples of their recent behaviour that has crossed the line, pushing for the idea of seeing a professional/local addiction resources or hotlines, then that's all you can do. i know how hard this is on you too and i know it is a special type of exhausting and endless hell to love an addict. all you can do is try your best not to facilliate the addiction while doing what you can to support getting them into recovery. there are a lot of addiction centers, support groups and hotlines that offer advice and support for loved ones - i would really encourage you to seek those out for more professional and exstensive guidance. i really hope they get clean eventually and i reall hope you're taking care of yourself and being kind with yourself throughout this whole thing. i'm really sorry it's happening to you, your sibling and your family. please know i'm here if you ever need a friend or someone to vent to about it. x

supporting someone with addiction / how to help an addict without enabling / helping someone who is misusing drugs or alcohol/ info about interventions / how to help a friend or family member with addiction / tips for supporting someone recovering from addiction/overcoming drug addiction

[something-tofightfor]

Liminality: Part 11

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Word Count: 6,768

Rating: R - for violence, injury, blood, fear etc.

Summary: Finding yourself face to face with the Chaos Wolf, you realize just how terrifying the creatures can be. For the first time, you're forced to face your fear and rely on your own survival instincts.

But having good intentions doesn't mean that things turn out the way you hope they will... and this encounter may lead to the reveal of much more than you intended.

Author’s note:

Sorry to keep you hanging for so long; life gets in the way sometimes. Thank you for being patient, and for sticking around. Hope you enjoy this chapter. Wanna talk about Wolf Frankie or his friends? My inbox is always open.

Masterlist (for the journal entries and all of the other 'extras' + previous chapters)

You heard a low growl, and then, as your grip on the phone tightened, you saw the wolf break from the treeline and head straight toward you. 

Instinctively, you backed up. 

But you’d misjudged your position and went sprawling over the legs of one of the outdoor chairs that surrounded the small fire pit, another cry escaping your lips. You kept the phone in your hand, though, determined to do something good with what might have been the final few moments of your life. You’ll know what he looks like. You’ll know what it looks like so you can find him. 

It had only been seconds, but if felt like much longer,  and as the wolf got closer to you, you used what little light you had to assess it. It was big and it was fast, and unlike Frankie, it was dark, its fur shorter than you expected. But it’s limping. Still. And unlike Frankie’s warm golden eyes, this wolf’s were orange bordering on red and catching the light made them glow the same way they had in the darkness. It looks mean. It looks… 

You scrambled away from it, and instead of trying to go for the RV’s door, you went for the chair on the other side of the pit, hoping that you could grab the gun and at least get a shot off before it got you. But that was wishful thinking - and you knew it. Where the fuck are you, Will?

You screamed again when it reached you, stopping just short of where you were and lowering its head. 

Your first instinct was to kick outward at it and hope you made contact. But it swiped at your leg, claws easily tearing through the pants you’d changed into earlier as it deflected the first blow. That didn’t stop you from lashing out a second time with the same leg, splatters of blood raining down on the dirt around you. When you made contact, the heel of your foot catching it somewhere on the shoulder, you heard it grunt, the sound oddly human. 

It backed away and then stared at you, head tilted to one side… and then the wolf growled, lowering its head a second time without taking its eyes off of you. You only had a split second to think, and when you closed your eyes, it was Frankie’s face you saw - his bright smile from the night you’d first met flashing in your memory. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

The crack of a gunshot caught you off guard, a piercing howl of pain filling the air immediately afterward. And when you opened your eyes again, you saw the wolf spinning away from you and tearing back for the trees, leaving a trail of blood behind it. Will’s voice came moments later, and then he was beside you, the blonde on his knees as he assessed your injury. 

“Did it bite you?” 

“No.” You forced the word out, still holding onto your phone. “No it sw…swiped at me, and …” Your leg hurt - the wound was painful, even though it wasn’t huge. “Fuck, Will, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I -” 

“We need to get up into the blind in case it comes back.” He moved to crouch in front of you, taking your face between both hands and forcing you to look at him. “Can you walk?”

“I think so.” You flexed your toes, nodding. “I can’t climb a ladder though. I -” 

“There’s a pulley.” He nodded, his voice calm, though you could see how tightly he was wound. “I’ll get you up there.” You nodded back, glancing down at your phone. Still recording, but I can stop now, I … 

He helped you to your feet and you ended the video, stuffing the phone back into your pocket. Will put an arm around you to help support your weight, but it still took longer than you knew he would have liked to get to the trees where the blind was. “Will, I can try to climb. I -”

“No.” He pointed. “We’ve got supplies up there that are heavier than you and we sure as shit didn’t haul ‘em up by hand.” You watched as he tugged on a rope, the muscles in his biceps flexing, and then a few seconds later, a wooden platform came into view as it lowered from above. “It’s only about 20 feet up. We had ‘Fish as a wolf run and jump as high as he could, and it was still too high for him to reach.” He gestured with one hand. “Get on and sit. It’s smooth, I swear. We’ve all done this before.” 

That made you smile, even though your still-pumping adrenaline was fading fast. You did as he asked, lowering yourself at the center of the platform, and then without warning, Will was lifting you into the trees. You didn’t want to question it, but you had to wonder how it was rigged - and what exactly they had stored up in the blind that required an elevator. 

You got your answer moments later when you rose through the hole in the floor of it and saw what you would have described as a small studio apartment inside of the space. This is like a fucking treehouse. There was a twin sized mattress under a covered window on one side, along with a crate that you assumed contained food and drinks. There was a larger crate on the opposite side, and resting on top of that was a laptop. The entire space was lit by string lights, and they cast an almost cozy glow down on you. 

“What the fuck?” Scooting off of the platform and onto the floor, you peered over the edge and called down to Will.  “I’m up here, do I need to -”

“No. You’re good.” He looked up, nodding. “Back away, I’m gonna bring it back down here.” You were confused but did what he asked, and once the platform was out of sight again, you scooted back and then leaned against the wall, your injured leg stretched out in front of you. 

You were bleeding steadily, and as you eyed your leg, you wondered if Will realized just how bad your injury was. That didn’t matter, though. What mattered was that you were safe, and that you only had a few hours until Frankie was back - and the three of you could get the fuck out of the woods for a month. 

Will called up to you as he climbed the ladder, and when you saw his head poke up and through a smaller door in the floor, you actually laughed, the sight of him calming you more than you thought it would. “I went and got your gun. Figured we should both have one.” 

You thanked him, taking the weapon and cradling it to your chest, and then for the next few minutes, you watched him go into soldier mode. 

He raised the platform a second time, pulling it all the way to the ceiling and securing it there. That left a gaping hole in the floor, but when he pulled the rope all the way up, too, you understand what he was doing. If it tries to jump at us, we’ll see it. Once that was done, he sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Will, I -”

“Don’t you dare apologize.” He met your eyes, head shaking back and forth. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Didn’t I? I should have had the gun. I should have been prepared. “I need to clean and bandage your leg. I’ve gotta see if it’s going to need stitches.” You hadn’t even considered that, but once again, he was right. Shit. 

Will unloaded the contents of his pockets onto the mattress and then opened a second crate, pulling out the largest first aid kit you’d ever seen. I’m not surprised, though. He pressed a button near the end of the light strand, and the room brightened, giving you your first real look at your leg. 

There was blood pooled beneath it, and you got a glimpse of your skin through the torn fabric. It hurts. He settled down next to you and carefully lifted your leg, resting it atop his knees. “I’m going to pull your pant leg up, alright?” You nodded, fingers curled in against your palms. He acted without pause, peeling the torn material away and then folding it over on itself. “I’m going to clean it now. I’m sorry, but it’s probably going to hurt like a sonofabitch.”

You mumbled a thank you for the warning but kept quiet otherwise as Will took things step by step. It wasn’t quite as bad as you’d thought once the blood had been wiped away, and you both heard and saw his sigh of relief when a trio of slashes was revealed, proving that it had only been a claws and not teeth that pierced your skin. 

He cleaned it deftly, his fingers carefully moving over your leg, and then Will applied a generous amount of antibacterial ointment before reaching for the kit again. “Good news.” He held up a bandage. “I don’t think you need stitches. It’s deep, but as long as you’re careful, I think it’ll close on its own.”

“Frankie’s not going to let me be anything but careful, Will.” Covering your face with both hands, you tilted your head back. “I feel like such an idiot. I set the gun down to make a video for him, and then I wandered away from it, and …”

“Wait, you took a video? Were you recording when it came at you?” He sounded stunned, and when you met his eyes again, nodding, you saw something like excitement in them. “That’s fucking great. Now we’ll know what it looks like, and if someone ever blames Frankie for this shit, we can prove it’s not him.” You hadn’t even thought of that, but it was the truth. “Oh, that’s amazing.” His smile grew, Will’s attention focused on you. “He might not kill me now.”

“Kill you? Why?” Will raised a brow and dropped his gaze to your leg, tapping on your ankle with one finger. “Because I got hurt?”

“I hesitated.” He spoke quietly, but there wasn’t a long pause before he started to explain. “Not because I didn’t want to shoot it, but because it was so close to you, and if I missed, or you moved …” That was something that you didn’t want to think about, and for long moments, both of you were quiet. But I do have to ask… 

“Did you hit it? It ran like you did.”

“I did.” Will nodded. “Hit it in the leg. There’s blood all over the clearing from both of you, so we’re going to have to clean that up tomorrow morning before we leave, but wherever it is, it’s hurt.” 

“That means it’s been hurt two moons in a row.” You spoke without thinking, and only caught yourself once you’d finished. Shit. Shit, I shouldn’t have … “I mean…”

“What do you mean?” He leaned in, frowning. “How do you know that?” You could blame it on the pain - or the lingering adrenaline - but no matter how you framed it, you’d blown your cover. 

“I…” Just tell him. “Will, I’m not really here because I’m writing a book about Tampa.” You rubbed at one eye, sighing. “I mean, I am writing, but that’s not …” Straightening up as much as you could, you repositioned your legs so that your bandaged one was stacked on your other one, elevated slightly. “My family hunts werewolves. I saw the articles about the attacks, and so I came here.” 

“Before you say another word…” He stiffened, and for the first time, you saw anger in his expression, his eyes going flat. “Does Frankie know?” Of course that’s his first question.

“He does.” You let out a shaky breath. “That’s why he told me what he was. He did come to my place after last month because of what Benny and I heard and because of the attack, but it wasn’t that he started to shift, it was that he saw all of my research.” You stared directly into his eyes and continued. “My cousin was the last one attacked. And the only reason he survived was because a wolf… his fiancee as a wolf protected him and chased the other one away.”

“What the fuck.” He stood, pacing back and forth as he looked down at you. “You’re joking.” 

“I’m not. I wish I was. They came here because I told them what was going on, and were in the wrong place at the wrong time and … she bit the other wolf. She hurt it. And I knew she hurt it because I went to the hospital to see him that morning and she told me.” 

It felt good to tell him. It made you feel lighter to be honest with one of Frankie’s closest friends. And they all deserve to know. “Is he alright?”

“He is. He didn’t get bitten either, just clawed. He got it way worse than me, though.” You pressed a hand to your belly, sighing. “Frankie’s arm was also bothering him that morning, and for a split second, I thought …”

“You thought it was him so you pulled the gun.” Will stopped moving and then crouched down, looking you in the eye. “This is fucking nuts. Why did you lie?”

“We thought that the more people that knew, the more dangerous it got. You guys own the bar and there are hundreds of people in and out every week. Something slipping could have been bad, so Frankie suggested that we tell you guys that I knew, just not … the whole truth about why.” 

“Smart.” He nodded. “Every now and then ‘Fish surprises me.” That made you laugh, and when Will extended his hand, you took it and let him help you to your feet. “It’ll be more comfortable if we sit on the mattress.” He waited for you to take the few steps necessary to reach it, and when you were sitting, he moved a smaller crate in front of you so that you could keep your leg elevated. Will busied himself in front of the large container for a few minutes and then lowered himself next to you, reaching over to hold out a bottle of water and a few tablets. “These’ll help with the pain. Prescription strength ibuprofen. Nothing bad.” You took the pills and swallowed them dry, squeezing your eyes shut. 

“He’s going to freak out when he comes back and there’s blood everywhere and he can’t find us.” You knew that he’d think the worst, and wished that you’d been just a little more careful. We could have ended this. 

“He is. But it’s better than the alternative.” You agreed and then let your mind drift. You could hear the creatures in the forest again, bugs and frogs and then, after a while, the hoot of the owl. It relaxed you, because it meant that the wolf that had attacked you was long gone - unless Will’s shot had injured it more than he’d anticipated. But we wouldn’t ever be that lucky

You actually dozed off a few minutes later, head tipping to the side and resting against Will’s sturdy shoulder. His voice brought you back to attention, even though he spoke quietly. “So you didn’t know when you met ‘Fish? The two of you meeting was … on accident?”

“It was. I saw one of Tom’s ads while I was in a hotel, and reached out because I needed somewhere to stay. He recommended your bar and Frankie for helicopter tours, and it all just spiraled from there.” 

“What are the fuckin’ odds?” You’d asked yourself that multiple times a day since you’d arrived in Florida, and you told Will as much. His laugh was genuine, but it was short-lived, as was yours. “Will you tell me more about what you do? Why you do it? Before he got bit in South America, I didn’t know any of this shit existed, but over the last couple years, it’s been… I’ve learned a hell of a fuckin’ lot even though we knew nothing for sure.” 

There was nothing you could do to put your secret back under wraps, and so you took a deep breath before clearing your throat.  “My great-great-great grandma was the first person in our family to have been bitten…” 

— 

You talked to Will for almost an hour, but then you started to drift again, even though you knew it was approaching sunrise. 

He’d given you a blanket to wrap around your shoulders right around the time you’d gotten to the part where you took over the hunt, and the material was soft. You snuggled into it, yawning, and to your surprise, Will let you lean against him, even going so far as to put an arm around your shoulders to steady you. 

“Get some rest. We can talk more later.” He sighed. “Before that, though, I have one more question for you.” What’s he going to ask? “Do you want me to tell him I know, or do you want to do that?”

“We’ll tell him together.” You yawned again, covering your mouth with one hand. “I never wanted to lie to you guys, or for him to. It didn’t feel right.” He hummed, and you couldn’t tell what the tone of the noise was, but it didn’t matter. After that, you stopped fighting sleep - and it came quickly. 

But it didn’t last long, and you were startled awake by the sound of Frankie’s frantic voice, the man screaming your name from below you. “Shit.” You pushed to your feet and then hissed when you put weight on your injured leg, nearly toppling back down onto the mattress before Will caught you. “Fuck, he -”

“It’s fine.” He squeezed your arm. “It’ll be fine.” Will knelt down and then leaned over the opening in the floor. “‘Fish, we’re up here.” You peered over, too, and were stunned to see Frankie wearing nothing but a pair of athletic shorts standing in the clearing beneath you, both hands in his hair. He looks so worried. Shit. I never wanted … “We’re both up here, and we’re fine, but -”

“What the fuck is all this blood?” He sounded almost frantic, and the expression on his face when he looked up and focused on you nearly broke your heart in two. “I smell another wolf. Who got -”

“Frankie, it’s mine. Some of it is -”

“WHAT?” He roared the word and you heard Will groan, his fingers tightening against the edge of the cutout. “What the fuck do you mean it’s yours?” 

“Let me climb down, ‘Fish, and then we can get her down, and we’ll explain.” Will looked over at you and you saw the concern in his eyes. “But you’ve gotta calm down. I’ve got blood on my clothes, and so does she, and it’s not going to do anyone any good if you… react.” 

Frankie rubbed both hands over his face and you watched as he took a deep breath and held it, his broad shoulders relaxing after long moments. “I’m good. You can come down, Ironhead.” Will backed away from the opening and then stood, fingers combing through his short hair. 

“I’m going to climb down, and then we’ll bring you down the same way I pulled you up, alright? Two of us, it’ll be easier.” He leaned in, his eyes locked with yours. “He needs to see that you’re alright, so you need to be ready as soon as -”

“I understand.” You lowered yourself into a sitting position, staring up at him. “Be careful climbing down, Will.” 

He assured you that he would, and then after unhooking the platform from the roof and letting it drop through the opening, Will disappeared down through the trapdoor, the gun still tucked securely into his waistband. You leaned forward and looked beneath you, watching as he made his way down the ladder to where Frankie was standing. They talked for a few seconds, Will holding a hand up to keep Frankie at a distance, but you didn’t see defensive posture in either of them before Frankie looked up and met your gaze. 

You saw what you could only describe as fear in his eyes, and with shock, realized that for two months in a row - ever since you’d met - he’d spent the morning after the full moon worrying about you. This can’t keep happening. I can’t be the reason he feels like this. We need to find this wolf. 

He joined Will near the rope, and when the platform appeared again, you positioned it and secured it so that you could climb on, swearing when you moved your leg to get it situated. You tugged on the rope to let them know that you were ready, and when you began the journey down to where the two men were, you steeled yourself for what was to come. 

You were shocked at the amount of blood on the ground, your eyes moving over the semi-dried puddles and splashes, following the trail to where it disappeared into the woods. There was a second one that followed your path to the blind, but that one was smaller. That means he got the wolf good. You don’t bleed like that if it’s just a graze. 

Frankie dropped to his knees as soon as you hit the ground, and before you could say a word, he had his hands on you, the man’s touch gentle as he assessed the extent of your injures with his eyes and hands. “Are you alright?” Will stayed quiet and so did you, even as you nodded, but when Frankie reached your leg - and then your injury, his entire body going rigid, you knew it was time to speak up.

“It clawed me. Will took care of it. I wasn’t bitten. It hurts, but it feels better than it did, and -”

“I’m going to fucking kill this goddamn wolf.” His fingers hovered over the bandage, Frankie’s breathing fast as he stared at you. “I’m going to find out who it is and I’m going to rip its goddamn throat out.” You’d never heard him sound so angry, and even though it scared you, there was a part of you that was responding to Frankie’s promises in a very different way. Who wouldn’t? “What happened? Why were you outside?” 

He looked at you first, head shaking back and forth. He’s going to be so disappointed. “It was my fault. I left the gun on the ground and circled the fire pit. I wasn’t even thinking.” 

“She was making you a video, ‘Fish. We both fell asleep in the RV and then she went outside, and the next thing I knew, she was screaming for me.” You leaned into Frankie’s touch, his palm curved against your jaw, thumb moving over your cheek in a slow, steady arc. “I had no shot at first. It was … she was between me and it, and I couldn’t risk her moving.” 

“It came out of the woods and ran straight at me.” You swallowed hard, maintaining eye contact with Frankie. “I reached for the gun and didn’t have it. I knew it wasn’t you. I was ready to shoot it.” Shaking your head, you chewed on your lower lip for a few more seconds before saying anything else. “It was playing with me, Frankie. It charged like it was going to plow into me, but at the last second, it pulled back and just … swiped.” 

He looked down at your leg - the first time he’d averted his eyes from your face since he’d locked his gaze on you. “It didn’t try to bite you?” You shook your head no. “Fuck. I should have stayed. I shouldn’t have run.” 

“Will hurt it, Frankie.” You reached up, covering his hand with yours and easing it away from your face. “He shot it. And there’s so much blood, it had to have been hurt bad, so -”

“Apparently, I hurt it for the second month in a row.” Will cleared his throat and you and Frankie both looked up. You felt his fingers curl beneath yours, but before Frankie could speak, Will continued. “It slipped. She told me about why she’s here and what happened last month.” 

“Shit.” Frankie hung his head. “Oh, shit.” 

“It’s fine.” You sighed, the sound turning into a short laugh. “It’s better that people know. They were going to find out sooner or later.”

“I get it, ‘Fish.” Will moved closer, his arms crossed over his chest. “You’re protecting your girl. You’re protecting yourself. I would have done the same.” 

Neither you or Frankie corrected Will’s label on your relationship, and for the first time, you realized that you didn’t need to. Because I think I am his girl. And I like the way that sounds. “We should get you inside, Frankie. Get you something to drink, and some clothes, and -”

“I’m staying with you.” He rolled his shoulders back and for the first time, you stared at him and saw the way he looked in the early morning light. His skin was dirty, curls tangled atop his head, and his face was even more stubbled than usual. It suits him. Somehow, it … 

“You two go ahead and go back inside. I’m going to follow the trail and then clean up out here.” He gestured to the clearing, shrugging. “Gotta rake over the blood, get the blind secured … you know the drill.” 

“Help me up?” You tugged on Frankie’s hand. “I’ll come inside with you. I can clean everything up in there while you shower.” He looked like he wanted to argue with you, but instead, Frankie did help you to your feet and then looped an arm around you to give you some support. “That alright, Will?”

“Yes.” He nodded, lips curving upward briefly as he watched you. “That’s fine.” 

You left him behind as you and Frankie slowly made your way back to the RV and then inside, closing the door behind you. 

Your leg hurt, the ibuprofen doing little to dull the ache, but you didn’t want to tell Frankie. He needs to keep his routine. He needs to go shower and - “Are you really alright?” He spoke quietly, leaning against the edge of the counter and crossing his arms. “Because -”

“I am.” You sat at the table, resting your hands on the surface. “There were a couple seconds where I didn’t think I had a chance, but …” Looking down at your hands, you swallowed hard. “But I’m fine. Won’t be walking a whole lot for the next couple days, but it could have been a lot worse.” It almost was a lot worse. “Go shower. I’ll get stuff packed up so we can leave when you’re done.” 

“Will knowing means everyone is going to know.” He said your name, tone serious. “Benny won’t be a big deal, but Tom… he might not… he doesn’t like liars.” 

“I’m not afraid of Tom.” You pushed yourself to your feet, angling your body toward Frankie. “We had a valid reason not to say anything. It’s not like I knew when I reached out. I -” Lowering your head, you closed your eyes. “I should have told you sooner. Maybe then Alec wouldn’t have gotten attacked or -”

“No.” Frankie stepped closer to you and wrapped his arms around you, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “You did everything right. And it was my decision not to tell anyone, not yours. So if Tom’s gonna be pissed he can be pissed at me.” 

Even though Frankie smelled like the forest - leaves and dirt and sweat - you didn’t want to let him go. Pulling away enough that you could look up at him, you slid your hand along the back of his neck, urging him closer. “Frankie, pl-”

“Stop.” It was the first time he’d denied you, and you saw resolve in his eyes. “I’m not going to kiss you until I shower and brush my teeth.” He held you tighter, and you saw him struggling to keep his word. “Not after spending a night in the woods.” You wrinkled your nose at that, Frankie’s words reminding you of exactly what he’d been doing for the previous hours. 

He let you go moments later, squeezing your arm and then disappearing down the hall and into the small bathroom, his bag over one shoulder.

It took you longer than it would have without an injured leg, but you could still hear the shower running by the time you’d changed clothes, packed all of your stuff up and were ready to go. Will was still raking the clearing, and you could see that he was almost done. You figured that he’d finish just about when Frankie did. Good. That means we can go home soon. 

 You watched him through the window, Will meticulously obscuring the evidence that anything had happened the previous night. I should have taken pictures of the blood. I should have followed it into the woods just to see - 

“You still want that kiss?” Frankie’s arms wound around you from behind, the man resting his chin on your shoulder. “Because my mouth doesn’t taste like I’ve been drinking pond water all night anymore.” 

You turned before he was even finished, nodding. “Fuck yes I do.” He laughed, but you cut the sound off with the press of your lips to his, the fingers of one hand tangled in his damp curls. 

There was no hesitation on your part. 

You didn’t care that he’d been a literal wolf an hour earlier. You were unbothered by the fact that he’d likely done things overnight that no human should have even considered. The only thing you were focused on was the way he held you and the way he kissed you, one large hand splayed out against your back and the other cradling your skull. 

“I thought it got you.” He mumbled the words between kisses, voice low. “You and Ironhead, and -”

“It didn’t.” You pressed your forehead to his. “We got him. And he’s hurt, Frankie. This isn’t like Ashley biting him. I don’t know how fast you heal if you’re hurt as a wolf, but -”

“Will shot him with silver, so …” Frankie kissed you again, mouth soft as it pressed against yours. “So until he gets that out, or unless it went straight through, it’s going to hurt like a motherfucker. And if he couldn’t get it out before he turned back into a human, he’ll heal like a human.” 

You hadn’t even considered that, but it made sense. He’d heal faster as a wolf, but as a human it’s just … oh, damn. “I hope you don’t know that from experience.” 

“Not a gunshot, no. And never silver. But other injures have followed that pattern.” He sighed and then yawned, groaning. “I -”

“D’you think that the two of you could finish that somewhere else?” Will interrupted you, the man standing just inside the door with both hands on his hips. “I’m fuckin’ exhausted and I still have to drive us home.” 

In spite of everything, you laughed at his words, Frankie following suit shortly after. “Yes, Will.” You swiped at your face with one hand, the laugh turning into a yawn. “Since you asked so nicely.” 

— 

 Will dropped the two of you off at Frankie’s, promising that he wouldn’t say anything about the previous night until you’d had time to rest. Frankie thanked him, but hadn’t said much else before heading straight into his kitchen and downing glass after glass of cold water, his back to you and covered only in a thin t-shirt. 

You didn’t know what to say, or where to begin, but Frankie took care of that for you, twisting the water off and then turning back to face you with his arms crossed. “I put you in danger. You being there with me was -”

“No, me being there with Will was what saved my life.” You made your way to him, trying not to wince when you put weight on your injured leg. “Don’t do this. Don’t try and paint this situation like you put me in fucking danger when I’ve never felt safer than I do when I’m around your friends or you in either form.” You stopped inches away from him, bracing your weight on the counter. “I was where I wanted to be. I am where I want to be. So don’t give me the bullshit about pulling away to save me, because that’s exactly what it is. Bullshit.” 

He looked surprised at your outburst, but you meant every word. “You could have been killed. You could have been bitten, and I honestly don’t fucking know which would be worse.” That hurt - and for the first time, you flinched away from him. 

“I wasn’t. I’ll be fine in a few days. It’ll probably scar, but Jesus, Frankie, it was worth it. I know what it looks like now. It’s hurt. It was limping when it ran across the clearing at me, which means that Ashley fucked it up. And now Will did, too. That’s two months in a row that it wasn’t successful in attacking anyone. And that means it’s going to be pissed. And that means it’s going to get sloppy.” 

Your words had an impact - you saw the look in his eyes change as you spoke, anger turning to understanding. I’m right and you know it. “I was fucking terrified. I came back and I smelled blood. I saw blood. Neither of you were in the camper, and I knew it was another wolf. I thought …”

“I know.” You closed the distance, winding your arms around his neck. “I know what you thought. But I’m right here. I’m fine, Francisco.” Twisting a curl around one finger, you tugged on it. “If you’re not too tired, I can give you a demonstration of just how fine I really am.”

“That’s not fair.” He finally smiled, his grin a welcome change - and enough of a switch in demeanor to make you sigh in relief. “You’re gonna make me say no to you?”

“I’m not going to make you do anything.” You leaned in, running your nose alongside his and then kissing him on the corner of his mouth. “But I know you’ve got to be exhausted, so you can always take a raincheck.” 

“I think I’m going to have to.” He groaned, turning his head so that he could kiss you, his mouth pressed to yours as he replied. “I can barely stand up.” That didn’t stop him from kissing you again, though, Frankie’s tongue teasing against the seam of your lips briefly before you parted them for him. He encircled you with his arms, hauling you even closer, and you let him, the edges of your nails digging into his back, and the fingers of your other hand tangling in his hair. 

“Then let’s get you to bed.” You paused long enough to take a breath, teeth closing around his lower lip and tugging once you’d spoken. “I could lay down, too.” Frankie’s smile was small but you felt it, and he pushed off of the counter, urging you toward the hallway. “You can go ahead of me. I have to walk slow, it -”

“No.” He spun you slowly so that your back was to his chest, and then kept his hands at your waist. “Together. I don’t want to let you out of my goddamn sight.” 

It was overkill, and you knew it - and you thought he did too. But I won’t complain. 

You both paused just inside his doorway, Frankie stepping next to you and letting out a weary sigh. “I’ve never been so happy to see my goddamn bed.” 

“Not even after South America?” Raising an eyebrow, you turned your head to look at him. “Will told me you guys were there a hell of a long time.” 

“We were.” He pulled his shirt off, tossing it toward the hamper. “And I guess you’ve got me there. We got home and I slept for two days straight. I’m pretty sure Becca thought I fuckin’ died.” He undid the button on his pants, sliding them down and then throwing them to the side, too. “But you get my point.” Frankie raised both arms above his head, stretching. “You gonna wear all those clothes to bed?”

You eyed him, letting your gaze rake over every inch of exposed skin. You’d looked at every opportunity, but that morning, it felt different. That wolf is inside of him. It’s … it shouldn’t be possible, but … Reaching out, you dragged your fingertips down the center of his chest, closing your eyes at the warmth of his skin. It’s all him, though. And I wouldn’t want to change any of it. “No. I guess I’m not.” 

His hands moved to the lower hem of your shirt, and when he tugged it upward, you raised your arms to help him. He made quick work of it, and when you went to remove your pants, you felt his hands skating down and over your sides. “You’re here. You’re still -”

“I am.” You swallowed, a shaky breath escaping a few seconds later. “He didn’t get me that -”

“No. I mean after you saw what happens… what I am, you’re still here. With me.” It broke your heart that even after he’d witnessed your response to his transformation - after he’d been able to sense the way you felt about it, he’d still doubted that you’d want to be close to him. “You’re not afraid, and you don’t think it’s disgusting, and -”

“Frankie, stop.” Using two fingers, you pressed the tips of them to his lips. “I understand you worrying, but if you really thought that that’s how I’d respond, then you don’t know me as well as I thought you did.” He sucked in a breath, staring at you. “I want you, and everything that comes with it. Still. I know what I’m getting into. It’s going to take more than that to get rid of me.” He smiled at that, and when you saw his expression soften, you moved to pull your hand away. “But.” 

“But … what?” Frankie’s eyes flicked downward and then met yours again, his shoulders set. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t want you to lie to me about how much it hurts you. You said changing was unpleasant, but c’mon, ‘Fish. Don’t lie to me about being in pain.” Gesturing to your leg, you laughed. “I’m certainly not going to lie and tell you this doesn’t hurt. I’m not going to think less of you because you admit that your bones literally rearranging themselves hurts when you turn into a giant wolf and back.” 

“Complaining about it doesn’t change shit.” He moved his thumbs over your abdomen, shaking his head. “I’ve just got to deal with it.”

“Maybe with them.” You bit your lip. “But not with me, alright?” It took a few seconds but he finally nodded before pulling you into a tight hug. You nuzzled against the side of his neck, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. It was stupid - and you knew it - but being so close to him made the previous hours and your attack seem less scary. No less serious, though. 

“We need to get into that bed.” You mumbled the words without backing off, and Frankie’s hold on you tightened. “Do you have a towel I can put under my leg? I don’t want to bleed on your bed, and I might if -”

“If Ironhead bandaged that, it’s not going to bleed.” Frankie straightened up. “He knows his shit.” That made you snort, but when Frankie took your hand and guided you to the bed, you went with him, taking it slowly. He got in first and you followed, getting situated under the blankets with your back to his chest. 

He held you close, carefully hooking a leg over your uninjured one, and as you both went quiet, you finally let yourself relax. All things considered, ending the morning wrapped in Frankie’s arms was as good an outcome as you could have hoped for. The shitstorm is coming, but for now… You scooted back even further, Frankie’s arm tightening. For now, this works. 

—

[spoilmesweetieforficssake]

Eating Out Of The Palm Of Her Hand

So I'm pretty sure this little idea came about as a result of a conversation with @bigolgay (but there's every chance I'm wrong)

Anyway, it's brief, peppered with mild angst and a tiny bit of Gary bashing (only because it fitted the idea and not because I hate him)

~*~

“Shoot.”

Barb looks up at her friend across their shared table with concern.

“I forgot about that tasting night I signed up for, back when, you know,” mumbled the red head.  She had been trying to expand Gary’s culinary knowledge in a way that didn’t solely involve her cooking.  Not that she didn’t enjoy cooking, but she didn’t like it when it was just expected.  Nor when her suggestions for dinner were shot down and he would suggest bad takeaway pizza and beer.  “You fancy it?”

“Sorry girl, but Taylor is in town and we have plans this Friday,” apologises the kindergarten teacher.  She nudges her friend, however, and nods in your direction. 

Melissa raises an eyebrow at her friend who it seems is forever keen to push her in your direction.  Still, she fathoms, it’s not exactly a bad solution.  You’ve been out together a few times outside of school and are always good company.  And just because it’s a couples thing, well, that’s more of an insignificant detail, she reasons.  “Hey, half pint?  What you doing this Friday?”

You look over as you hear the nickname the red head often uses for you, despite the fact you’re only a couple of inches shorter than she is.  “Nothing why?”

“You fancy this?”  She waves her phone at you and you push yourself up out of your chair to take a closer look.

“Tasting delicious things and drinking wine with you, where do I sign up?”

She smirks.  “You don’t need to sign up.  Just turn up.”

*

You make an effort for the evening.  The e-mail made the event look pretty classy and you were being seen out with Melissa, who never looked less than a million bucks in your book, so if you spent a little more time than usual putting on your make up and taming your hair, well, it was only because you didn’t want to show her up.

Despite the fact that you’d dressed up, you weren’t quite prepared for Melissa doing the same.  Yes, you’ve seen her most days for nigh on a year now, but you rarely get to see her like this.  “Fuck…”  It’s not quite the hello you’d intended, but then again, you were pretty sure it was criminal in some states to look that good. 

“What?  Something wrong with it?” asks Melissa, looking down at herself at your greeting. 

“No!  No definitely not!” you quickly reassure her.  “It’s just…” 

She smirks.  “Words, kid.  Come on, you got this.”

Your cheeks flame red.  “I know I see you every day, but I guess I just wasn’t ready for…” you trail off, gesturing vaguely at her. 

Her smirk only grows more devious.  “Don’t look so bad yourself,” she quips before heading inside, giving you a glorious view of the back of the outfit and suddenly making it rather difficult to breathe.

*

It immediately becomes apparent that tonight’s event is a couples event.  The chirpy receptionist that greets you both takes Melissa’s name and checks her off on her list, wishing her and ‘her partner’, who is apparently you, a lovely evening. 

The red head, however, seems not to care and you can do nothing but follow her lead.  As you settle in at your assigned table, you both share polite smiles and easy conversation with the other couples sitting close by.  They also assume that you’re together, and again, Melissa doesn’t correct them. 

You know you could clear up the situation with a few words, but it just feels easier to go with the flow.  Afterall, it doesn’t seem to bother Melissa, so the only real harm is to your own heart.  It’s something you’re learning to live with.  At this point, you can’t quite recall a time when you weren’t in love with the red head. 

As the evening progresses, it’s enough that even you forget for a while.  Her enthusiasm and passion are things you love about her, and when it comes to food, they shine through.  She knows her stuff and engages with the producers and chefs that have put tonight’s menu together.  You, meanwhile, are drinking her in just as much as the wine on offer. 

You know that part of her being so vocal about tonight’s offerings is down to her finding this an easier way to digest the information than reading the leaflets that have been left on your table.  Meanwhile, you take note of the things she’s been particularly keen on, tucking away the associated pamphlets and business cards into your bag to help jog her memory later if she wants to track any of them down. 

Each time there’s a new offering, you prompt Melissa to taste them first.  It’s not that you don’t like trying new things, but you like to have an idea of what you’re letting yourself in for first and you’ve found observing Melissa’s facial expressions to be both a reliable and enjoyable way to do so.  When she comes across something she thinks you’ll like she’s immediately reaching out to feed you the delicious morsels of food, and it’s not until you catch yourself thinking that she has you literally eating out of the palm of her hand that you realise you’re in dangerous territory. 

This is just how Melissa is, you remind yourself.  How she always is with you.  It’s not the red head’s fault that you want to read further into it.

*

At the end of the night, you’re both pleasantly buzzed.  You walk a little, agreeing to find somewhere for one final glass of wine before heading home for the evening.  That’s how you end up side by side on a small couch in a dimly lit wine bar. 

You’re not quite sure how it happens, but one moment Melissa is talking about new recipe ideas she has, and the next she’s leaning in, her intentions unmistakable. 

You pull back, one hand resting on her shoulder to keep a distance between you.  The hurt expression that crosses her face doesn’t escape your attention.  “Sorry, I just…”

She shakes her head.  “No.  No, it’s fine.  I just thought, we were having a good night, you seemed to be enjoying it, you thought I was hot.”

“I was.  I do,” you tell her.  As awkward as this situation may be, you owe it to her to be honest.  You’re well aware she doesn’t make friends easily, but she let you in, and for that alone, you refuse to let this moment go without making it clear why you’re refusing her.  “I think you’re beautiful,” you tell her.  “Beautiful, stunning, gorgeous.  Take your pick or take all three.  I think you’re amazing, and that’s why I can’t.”

She frowns, not understanding.  The whole evening had gone better than she had ever hoped it might.  Rendering you speechless before you’d even made it in the building had given her the confidence boost she’d needed to believe that Barb’s hunch that you liked her might just be true.  Then there was way you responded to her flirting, and now your words? 

“I can’t be someone who helps you scratch and itch, or fulfil some curiosity,” you say, smiling sadly.  “I can either have you as my friend or my everything, Melissa.  I won’t survive some middle ground.”

At this, she sits back, looking at you.  Really looking at you as your words sink in. 

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, ducking you head.  “I just…needed you to know.  I didn’t mean to ruin tonight or for things to get so heavy.”

“No, don’t apologise,” breathes the red head, scooting closer.  She reaches out, gently cupping your cheek.

“Melissa.”  Your tone is a warning.  One you hope she heeds. 

“I’ve never been someone’s everything.”

You look up at the quietly spoken words to see Melissa smiling shyly at you.  Your breath catches in your throat at the realisation that you hadn’t been reading too much into tonight.  It had felt like a date because it had been.  “Then maybe it’s about time you let someone show you how it feels,” you whisper in reply, closing the distance between you.

[volturiprincess]

which are the kinks of the romanians?🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

Their Kinks

A/N: The much anticipated request, I just combined the 4 since they were basically the same thing. I changed some things since I am not much up to date with the "new" things and I kid you not I was a majority of the time like this 😳��🫣😂 (like wtf I wrote this🤣). Enjoy💙

Warning: MINORS SKEDADDLE!

Again let's not beat around the bush here 

Little fuckers are kinky, how could they not, they been around for a while, they seen things and now that they have a mate they need to try out these things on them 

In this case let's hypothetically say you are shorter than them (sorry to anyone who is over 5’7, in this world you are short for now)

When you are around them, they tower over you, Vladimir at any chance will pin you against a wall roughly and have you right then and there 

Stefan will slowly guide you to the bed and well all hell breaks loose as soon as that door closes 

When you first had sex with them, the way your mouth dropped at the sheer size of them, how the hell are they going to fit?

There matching smirks did not help easy your worries 

Since at the time you were still human, they tried to hold back on you but once there in, all common sense went out the window for them and for yourself 

They love how little you are when you are under them or how little you look riding them 

They like to tease you when you have your hands wrap around them (“Look Stefan she needs two hands so she can stroke me” “Adorable”)

Praising won't be missed with them, considering its 1 vs 2, they will make sure to tell you what ‘a good girl” you are and “Your doing so well doll, I know you can take more of my cock”

As said before they been around for a while now, they seen things that left them flabbergasted 

Vladimir was the one who decided to spicy things up a bit more during sex (like what they do to you on a daily basis is not enough)

What you thought was a weird looking bullet, turned out to be the strongest vibrator to mankind 

He would leave it on your sensitive bud and walk away for a bit (“Oh it seems I haven't feed yet, I will be back my love, but keep those pretty legs of yours open”)

Comes back to see your face so fucked up but your poor abused pussy is a mess that he will gladly clean up with his tongue

He loves to see you cum one after another until you are basically begging for a break (he of course will stop if it becomes to much)

As for Stefan he loves to have your mouth wrapped around his cock 

He sometimes pushes as much of himself into your mouth to the point where you are gagging, he enjoys the noises you make (which he for sure will miss when you are turned)

Will do a bit bondage on you so you can't touch him (such a tease) while he has his cock in your mouth 

Stefan unlike Vladimir, likes to see how much of his cum you can swallow until your stomach is basically full of it 

When they want to tease you tell you are begging for mercy, they bring out the big guns (not pun intended 😏)

Handcuffs (so you can't move or remove wha is placed on you)  so they can use certain vibrators to keep you in place and to witness the mess you will be come after an hour or…three

 When they get you as sensitive they believe you can get, then you can expect them to tease you move with just your tip 

‘Please Vlad (or Stef) I need you already” 

“Aww is our poor mate needy for our cocks, such a shame, I thought you could beg more, come on I know you can be more of a brat”

No amount of winning will get them to get them to get your way 

Until small tears spill that they push in and you and them are a moaning mess 

They will tease to tears 

And will fuck you until you cannot form any logical words or complete phrases 

They love to see how fucked up with their cocks in your mind they can leave you 

So unless you have nothing plan for tomorrow, your in it for a long night 

[starstruckkittensweets]

"Spitfire" | Gojo x Reader (Kinktober 2023)

Size Difference - Satoru Gojo

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader Words: 3.3k

A/N: Halfway through writing this I forgot I was supposed to be writing some good ol' smut...so that's why there's a lot more fluff in this one than I'd intended! Anyway, this is my first attempt at some Satoru smut, so I hope it's not too bad. (Also a very self-indulgent fic, writing this made me giggle and kick my feet in all my 4'11" glory.) I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ only, minors DNI, modern au, smaller reader (no particular height in mind, just shorter than Satoru), dirty talk, unprotected sex, cum eating, slight praise kink

If there’s one thing Satoru finds so appealing about you, it’s your height (or lack thereof, as he likes to remind you).

 Of course he loves everything else about you. Your smile, your eyes, the way you laugh at all his jokes, even the ones that make everyone else roll their eyes. How you give him every bit of attention whenever he’s with you, like he’s the only one that matters in the entire world. And obviously he thrives off the attention, but there’s something else about it—something else about you that makes his heart hammer furiously against his ribcage. Something that makes him want to please you and make you happy, just to see your smile.

But your smaller stature was the first thing that drew him to you. The first time Shoko brought you over to hang out with their little friend group, he couldn’t tear his eyes from you. Suguru had to repeat whatever he was saying three times for him to finally listen. But he couldn’t help it, not with you sitting right across from him.

Looking all small and dainty and simply cute.

Yeah, cute. That’s what you are to him—and you only prove his point when he says it to your face, and you make a sad attempt to hide your face in the collar of your hoodie. He only laughs as Suguru shakes his head, and Shoko rests a comforting hand on your shoulder.

So fucking cute.

He loves how small your hands are, and how perfectly they fit between his palms.

It never fails to make him smile, the way you act so shy and flustered whenever he holds your hand. The stutter in your voice when he reaches out, the way your eyes flicker from side to side as he gives you what he hopes to be a reassuring smile. Then again, people often confuse his genuine smiles for his cocky ones.

But he tries, for your sake. You’re the only one he sees, and he’s determined to remind you as often as he can.

“Sorry,” you mumble, tucking your palms into your pockets, “…hands are sweaty… You don’t wanna hold ‘em…”

He can only stare at you as you chew on your bottom lip, eyes cast down to the floor as you shift your weight from one leg to the other. Slowly inching away from him as the two of you continue your walk, careful not to bump your shoulder bag into his side.

Is… Are you serious? Or are you just teasing him?

But the dullness in your eyes is enough of an answer for him, and it sends a pinch of agony straight to his chest. Too pretty and cute to look so sad.

You squeak as he reaches in and practically yanks your hand back out of your pocket, holding it much more firmly between his fingers. Sending you a smirk as you gape at him, eyes blown wide and so fucking pretty.

Damn it, will you ever understand how adorable you are to him?

“Don’t care,” he replies with a shrug. “Hands get sweaty sometimes, so what? Now come on, don’t wanna be late to meet up with the others!”

Of course he would rush, you’re heading to the bakery at the next block, the usual meeting spot for all your little get-togethers. The one that sells all those sweets he practically drools over—and the same ones he always tries to get you to share with him, even when you brush him off.

“I…” Your voice falters when he peeks at you over the rim of his glasses; already you can feel your cheeks start to heat up. “…Never mind, if it doesn’t bother you—”

“Not at all! I like when I get to hold your hand.”

He picks up the pace, long legs eating up the distance as you struggle to keep up behind him. Still sputtering at his little confession, and the way he tightens his grip around you.

And strangely enough…it’s comforting. The way your little hand fits in his much larger one. Almost like he’s protecting you, keeping you safe from the rest of the world.

Like you can finally loosen your shoulders and relax whenever he’s around.

It takes every bit of strength in him not to smile like an idiot when he feels your hand squeeze his own oh-so delicately.

He loves the way you stand on your tiptoes to reach something high above you.

Whether it’s a family photo album or one of your favorite coffee mugs in the cupboard, he never passes up the chance to see your arms stretch high over your head, muscles straining and tongue poking out of the corner of your mouth. Swallowing back a sinful moan when he sees your shirt ride up over your stomach, granting him the slightest peek of the soft skin beneath.

This time it’s one of your books on the very top shelf, and you’re just ten seconds away from climbing up the bookcase yourself. He lets you struggle for a bit before stepping in like a gentleman (even though you claim he’s the exact opposite). Reaching over your head and plucking out the hardcover—only to hold it just out of your reach like the asshole he is. He lets out a laugh as you scramble to grab it, only lifting it higher when you start jumping up and down.

“C’mon, Satoru, cut it out! Give it to me already!”

“You almost got it, babe. Almost there, I know you can do it!”

“Satoru, I’m serious! Just hand it over!”

Your cheeks puff out as he dangles the book over your head; no matter how many swipes you make to grab it, he always yanks it back up to his level. Curse him and his ungodly height, it’s not your fault you’re vertically challenged!

And the smug fuck is laughing his ass off as he waves the book over your head. Like you’re a fucking cat with a feathered toy.

“Just a little higher, babe, I know you—ow!”

He winces as your shoe rams right into his kneecap—damn it, he doesn’t remember you being this strong—and with a final lunge you manage to curl your fingers around the book and yank. Pressing it against your heaving chest as he doubles over, both hands clutching his injured knee.

“No fair, that was a dirty trick!”

“So was taking my book in the first place.”

It’s hard to feel any sympathy for him, even if he makes a convincing case with those pouty lips and big blue eyes. You roll your eyes and head into your shared bedroom with your prize, leaving him groaning in pain about his poor knee.

“It really hurts, you know! I could be dying in here and you wouldn’t even know!”

“Then it’d be quiet, and I could actually start to read my book.”

“Babe!”

He’s full-on whining now, limping towards the bedroom and making a show of favoring his leg. You’re already cuddled up in bed with your book, a blanket thrown over your lap. Not even sparing him a glance as you leaf through the pages.

“…Can you kiss it, make it better?”

“Kiss it yourself.”

That gets a laugh out of him, despite the bolt of pain shooting up his leg. You’re small but damn feisty when you want to be, even more than you were when you first met him. Just goes to show how much more comfortable you’ve gotten around him. But he wouldn’t have you any other way, his tiny little spitfire. And he makes a point of telling you that, even when he launches himself into bed next to you and peppers your face with kisses, only laughing when you shriek and try to bat him away.

If he makes you lose your page, you’ll make sure to kick him someplace higher than his damn knee.

He loves how delicate you are in his arms. So small and fragile, practically a doll.

Another late night at work, another night you come home with your feet dragging and your eyelids drooping. You barely make it through the threshold before collapsing, and luckily Satoru’s there to catch you in his arms. With your cheek pressed against his chest and his arms around your waist, you barely have time to mumble out, “Missed you,” before falling asleep right then and there.

Satoru’s used to it by now. You work yourself to the bone every day, and he’s left to pick up the pieces at night. Not that he minds, he enjoys taking care of you like this. Makes him feel special, he’s the only one who gets to see you in this sleepy, vulnerable state.

It’s a dance he’s become all too comfortable with at this point. Cradling your tiny body against his chest, legs thrown over the crook of his elbow as he carries you into the bedroom. Settling you on the mattress, smiling when you groan softly in your sleep. Pressing a kiss to your forehead, lingering just a few seconds too long before you start to stir. Last thing he wants to do is rob you of some much-needed sleep.

Your shoes slip off easily, then your jacket and shirt. He’s always amazed at the difference in your clothing; how all your shirts and pants, while they look simply stunning on your body, always seem so tiny next to his own. Just the thought has him picking up the pace, eager to rid you of your work clothes and slip one of his old sleep shirts over your head. He catches the ghost of a smile on your lips before leaning you back against the pillows, careful when he pulls the covers up and over your bare legs.

Small and precious. So adorable, aren’t you?

He leans over and smooths his hand across your hair. It’s hard not to smile when you nuzzle into his touch, always finding his warmth even in your sleep. He swears he wasn’t tired before, but tucking you in always seems to wear him out. And it’s not long before he’s stripping down and joining you in bed.

Your arms find his body instantly, wrapping around his shoulders and pressing your face into his bare chest. He’s so warm and soft, his arms a protective shield around your sleeping form. He reaches up to brush your hair back, giving him a perfect view of your gentle face.

So much energy, despite your smaller size. Always working your ass off at your job, completely exhausted every night, and still wearing a smile for him when you come home.

Fuck, he loves you so much. Maybe someday he’ll have the courage to say it to your face.

The thought makes him smile as he snuggles deeper into the pillows, holding you against his chest, finally letting his eyes drift shut.

He loves how small you are, how cute and delicate and sweet you are—especially when you’re struggling to take his cock.

Reclining against the mountain of pillows against the headboard, arms folded beneath his head, licking his lips with every moan that slips through your mouth. You’re straddling him, practically dripping down his thighs with how wet you are. Three rounds of coming around his fingers and tongue, and you’re still whining how his cock is too much for you.

So fucking cute.

“S-Satoru,” it comes out as a hiccup, tears pricking your pretty lashes, “…fuck, it h-hurts—”

“Shh, baby, I know.” He leans up and presses a kiss to your sweaty temple. Fingers massaging your hips as you choke out another plea of his name. “Doin’ so well for me, aren’t you?”

It’s a sight he’ll never get sick of, no matter how many times he sees it: your pouty lips, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut, as he reaches down to circle his thumb around your clit.

Your nails sink into his shoulders, thighs clenching as you lower yourself down a bit more. Fuck, he’s not even halfway in and you’re already crying like a fucking virgin. Get it together already!

But you might as well be a virgin, with how fucking huge he is. Surprisingly he wasn’t lying in that department; not that it does you any fucking good now, but still…

He’s already kissing away your tears, murmuring sweet words under his breath, against your heated skin. Good girl, so fucking good, so tight and pretty for me. It helps you find yourself again, swallowing hard before sinking down further onto his cock.

“Satoru,” you whine as he bottoms out inside you. Eyes blown wide, the two of you panting heavily against each other’s chests.

So fucking full already and he hasn’t even started moving, how are you gonna survive tonight?!

“’S alright, sweetheart.” His voice is strained but warm as he cradles your face in his large hands. Still so gentle whenever he touches you. “Take it slow, don’t wanna wear you out before the real fun begins.”

He gives you that trademark smirk of his, and you have half a mind to throw caution to the wind and fuck him within an inch of his damn life. But the moment you shift on his lap a sharp pain jolts up your abdomen, and you’re gasping for air against his shoulder once more.

“Easy, easy. Move whenever you’re ready.”

At least he’s being considerate this time.

You suck in a breath, trying to focus on the gentle touch of his fingers against your clit. The gorgeous glow of his bright blue eyes. The way his hands feel pressed against your hips, guiding you with every move you make. His messy white hair, frayed from rolling around in bed, trying to fight you for the dominant position. (He let you win, but he’ll never admit it out loud.)

Eventually you grasp his hand, his palm practically swallowing your own, and roll your hips slightly. It still hurts but nowhere near as bad as it did before. Repeat the motion, and a hint of bliss courses through your veins. Matching the feeling of his fingers on your clit, making your eyes flutter shut.

Easy does it. Don’t bite off more than you can chew.

He kisses you, slow and deep, dragging his tongue over your own. You can still taste yourself on him; he insisted you didn’t have to return the favor this time. Although he’s eager to see what you would look like with his cock down your throat, if you would struggle to take him all in, tiny hands pressed against his thighs, nails cutting into his skin like knives. His cock twitches at the thought, and he knows you feel it by the gasp that leaves your mouth.

You can do this. You got this. Nothing to be scared of, right?

A few more slow thrusts has the two of you moaning out each other’s names. Pure adrenaline floods throughout your body. Eyes flashing, you hold out both hands and press down hard on his sweaty chest, knocking him back down into the pillows below.

He stares up at you through those beautiful white eyelashes, lips parted slightly as you positon yourself over his lap. Letting his cock slip out just enough before sinking back down with a moan that has your back arching and your nails biting into the skin of his chest.

Satoru thinks he could cum just from watching you.

It’s all he can do, just sit back and enjoy the show. Throat tightening from the way you bounce yourself on his cock, singing out his name like a prayer. His hands wander up towards your breasts, eager to feel them once more, but you’re quick to bat them away. Sending him a warning glare as you pick up the pace, mouth falling open as his cock finds that special spot deep inside you.

He can’t help but smirk at that. Still his little spitfire, huh?

“Satoru…” There’s a bite to your tone, one that sends a shiver down his spine, as he fists the pillows behind him. All too eager to touch you, but not until you give him permission.

He’s a gentleman after all, isn’t he?

Your eyes glimmer with tears, hips stuttering against his own with every thrust. Pretty lips trembling as you whisper, “Fuck me, Satoru.”

His hands burn against your waist, heels digging into the mattress as he lifts his hips up to meet your own. You’re screaming out his name, lashes wet with tears, tiny fists curling against his chest. He moves you up and down on his cock at a rapid pace, one that has you sobbing and moaning and pleading with him to go faster, faster Satoru, please fuck me—

You’re clenching around his cock so tight, he won’t last another minute at this pace. So he gathers you in his arms, tossing you into the mattress like a ragdoll, smirking when you flop against the pillows below. Sinking his cock into you once more, savoring the bliss in your eyes as he stretches you out.

“Satoru!”

Your cries are barely audible through the rhythmic thumping of the headboard against the wall. But he still hears them, hears every fucking moan of his name, every plea in your sweet little voice, every whine and gasp and sob that brings him closer to the edge.

He can see it in your eyes, how close you are to your peak. How you dig your nails into his shoulders, cradling him to your chest and kissing his lips as hard as you can. He slips an arm around your back, bracing his other against the frail headboard of the bed. Praying to any god above that the damn thing won’t collapse before the night is over.

And suddenly you shatter around him, squeezing him for all he’s worth, a thousand cries of his name on your tongue as you hold him close. It’s almost enough to make him lose it, he’s so close, almost there—

He pins your tiny body against the mattress, fucking you through your high, leaving you squirming for release beneath his larger form. Another few thrusts has him spilling himself deep inside of you, moaning your name against the shell of your ear. Clutching your smaller form close to his chest, shielding you from the rest of the world beyond.

Several moments pass before the two of you move. Carding your fingers through his sweaty hair, tasting his lips for the thousandth time tonight. He slides out of you as gently as he can, unable to suppress the smirk as he watches ropes of his cum covering your inner thighs.

“So messy,” you mumble, and it’s like a switch has been turned on in your brain. You’re back to being your shy, docile self, hiding your face in his chest. He laughs before pulling away, holding your face between his warm hands.

“I like it messy. You did so good for me, sweetheart, so fucking good.”

It’s hard not to blush when he’s praising you like that, especially when he starts kissing his way down your body. Starting from your neck and trailing down your chest, your stomach, and finally ending between your thighs. You don’t even have the strength to protest as he spreads your legs and flicks his tongue over your messy clit, not even bothered with the taste of his cum.

“Satoru,” you whine, throwing an arm over your face. But he reaches up and pulls it away, blue eyes glowing in the darkness of your bedroom.

“’M not done yet,” he mumbles, dragging his tongue along your slick, “want more of you.”

That gets a weak laugh out of you. “So fuckin’ greedy, huh?”

Yeah, he’s greedy. When did he ever say he wasn’t? He’ll take any part of you he can get, as many times as he can. His sweet little spitfire, all shy and precious but a fucking menace in bed.

And fuck, if he doesn’t love you like crazy for it. 

[lizard-dumbass]

Alright so the TOH brainrot has come back in full force after the finale came out so now i too am making one of them lists of things that i liked/stuck out to me. Also sorry if this ends up just being a bunch of incoherent nonsense

HOLY SHIT TITAN!LUZ. the design is so cool what more can i say. Furthermore,

HOLY FUCK LUZ DIED????? i was so not expecting that and good lord was it heartbreaking. Eda and King's reaction to Luz's death were also heartbreaking, and so was the Collector finally realizing what death really is. And oh my god puppet!Camila crying as the balls of light pass by her, showing us that she has had the realization that her daughter died. After the grief and trauma of losing Manny, Camila and Luz had a heart to heart which made their bond stronger than ever, only for Camila to lose Luz aswell.

LUZ SAID THE THING! NOW EAT THIS SUCKAAAAAA!!!!!

THE BOILING ISLES IS BIGENDER BABY! i honestly love the titan so much now. His bad girl coven t-shirt and glyph pants and dad-bod are absolutely everything. (Also what's with the little hooty worm sticking out of her eye socket??)

The goddamn bread pun 😭 that warms my heart so much

The raeda in this episode was IMMACULATE. I was really hoping for a kiss but i'm still happy with what WAD gave us. The loving stares, Raine's absolute joy when Eda and Titan!Luz came to their rescue in the throne room, the hugs and nuzzles, the cuddling in their new nest, etc. They seem so relaxed and happy at the end. The world has been saved and now they can finally live their lives together and rekindle their relationship. Oh and how could i forget the EARRING SWAP!! they're wearing eachother's earrings!!! I've seen quite a few ppl interpreting the exchanging of earrings/jewelry as a marriage custom in the demon realm, implying that Eda and Raine are married in the timeskip. I never cared much for the idea of raeda getting married but you know what? I like this headcanon.

Raine whistling raine's rhapsody/eda's reqiuem.

Hunter is a palisman carver! And he has a new palisman! Apparently the little blue jay's name is Waffles and that's just adorable.

Raine also has a palisman now and it's a little fox! I wonder what their name is though.

The entire hexsquad has matching Flapjack tattoos! Also Flapjack's grave, that gave me so many feels. But im so happy to see how Hunter has healed!

Harpy Lilith!

Eda is the principal of a school now?

Eda's hook arm! Also just everyone's new outfits/appearances in general. I love Raine's fully white hair and their scars and their outfit just oozes gender. I love Luz's outfit and punk eyeliner. I love Amity's hairstyle. I love how Lilith kept her short ginger hairstyle. I love Gus's new hair and his little beard. I love Willow's shorter hair and sporty outfit. Mattholomule has a real mustache now!

Fuck yeah they figured out how to remove sigils so now the BI residents can do magic like the Titan really intended!

Aladarius canon??

Everyone reuniting with their dads. Amity running to Alador whilst Odalia just stands at the side with an annoyed face. Fucking priceless. Willow's dads kissed on screen! Hunter thinking no one would be there for him only for Darius and Eberwolf to show up and accept him into their family. my heart 😭❤️

Eda and Camila finally got to meet!

Luz reuniting with King and Eda made me sob so unbelievably hard.

Luz and Vee graduated together!

Luz goes to college in the demon realm!

I thought she was giving all her Azura stuff away at first but i think she's actually bringing it all with her to college.

I love everything about Luz's quinceañera (or should i say KING-ceañera)

I love the very last part where every character we've come to know and love over these 3 wonderful years (except Odalia lmfao) say "Byeee!" to the audience. What a perfect way to end this series.

I think that's it lol i have so many thoughts

[sluttysnowangel666]

The Song of Blackwoods and Brackens - finale

Thank you so much to those who read and loved this story, I originally intended for it to be much shorter and with a way sadder ending( title was inspired by the song of achilles so i felt a tragic end was fitting) but i got carried away, and i couldn't find the strength to break everyone's hearts. This fanfic is the first time i've gotten back to writing since i was like 12 years old, usually these stories play in my head and i just leave them there but for some reason this one took a life of its own. if people would like to read the alternate ending, let me know and perhaps ill post it. until then, i hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it. thank you all my delulu bloody ben baddies, i love you more than you know.

masterlist

𐂃 𐂃 𐂃 𐂃

I didn't know how I got there. All I knew was that these moments were about to be my last.

Everything had happened so quickly. The situation spiraled out of control before I even realized it was occurring.

Smoke was everywhere, bodies were everywhere. I couldn't walk without stepping on someone. I knew I was going to die. I could barely walk, could barely see.

I could live with dying. I made my bed, I'm ready to lie in it.

He and I were doomed from the start. I loved him; It ruined my life.

My ears were ringing, my eye was in excruciating pain, as well as my leg.

"Ben." I mumble out, disoriented. "Benny..."

I scan the area. Nothing but bodies. Oh, Gods. What if he was one of them?

There's cries of men in the distance, and the sound of fire crackling the burning mill.

I manage to push myself up, leaning on my sword. I cry out at the pain.

Gods... This was all my fault. I'd destroyed everything I touched. My brother was dead,  I couldn't find my lover, I had no idea how long I'd been knocked unconscious.

"Benjicot!" I cried out. "Ben!"

An arrow whips past my head, nailing the wood post behind me. I do a full turn, and see a woman.

She's not much older than me, her hair is long and dark. Alysanne Blackwood.

"Black Aly." I say.

"Who are you?" She asks, an arrow aimed at me.

"I... don't know anymore."

"Judging by your clothes, you're a Bracken. My only concern is... you're a woman. Why is a Bracken woman fighting here instead of cowering in her chambers?"

I don't answer. "I've slain your uncle." She says.

I growl with anger. "You bitch!"

"Too slow." She teases.

I raise my sword, she pulls back on her bow.

"Stop this now!"

I turn, and he's there. Alive. He was greatly wounded, covered in blood as was I, but he was alive.

I can't hold back anymore. Gods, I was so angry with him, but I didn't even care. I limp towards him, bursting into tears the second I fall into his arms.

"Oh, my sweet." He cries, pulling us to the ground. He kisses my bloody head, sobbing into my hair. "We need to get you a maester, now."

I pull away, landing a hard slap across his face. "That's for knocking me unconscious, you craven."

"You left me no choice." He says, hardly phased.

"I know. I'm sorry." I say. He kisses me again.

"Nephew," Alysanne interrupts. "who is this woman dressed as a man?"

"My betrothed." He says.

"This battle... was all because you loved a Bracken?" She asks, incredulous.

"No." I answer. "It was my fault. My family started it... It was because I loved a Blackwood."

"What's the difference?"

"Fuck you, Alysanne."

"Tread lightly, Bracken scum. I'll still fly this arrow through your good eye-"

"Gods sakes, enough! The both of you." Benji demands. "Aly, please, she needs a maester."

Alysanne hesitates, but nods. She turns and runs, happy to be as far from my destructiveness as possible.

Benji helps me begin walking back to Raventree Hall, letting me lean on him for support.

I hear a cough, a familiar, raspy cough. I turn, shocked to see my uncle leaned against a post, an arrow in his left chest plate.

"Uncle." I say.

"You're still alive?" He coughs, blood spewing out of his mouth.

"I am." I say. I push off Benji to stand on my own.

"Get it over with." He sighs.

"Do you have any last words?" I ask.

"You're a disgrace to the Bracken name." He says.

"Well then," I pause. "it's a good thing I'm a Blackwood."

I turn to Benji, whose face reads nothing but pride in me.

"My betrothed," I start.

"Yes, my lady?"

"I believe I know what I want for our wedding."

"Whatever pleases, my lady. Ask and it is done."

I smirk, "I want his head."

One clean swipe was all it took.

Bloody Ben, gets on one knee, and holds up my uncle's head as a gesture of love to our union.

"Put it on a spike. Remind those what happens when you challenge a Blackwood."

———

The maester did what he could to stop the infection, but my right eye could not be saved.

"I look like a monster." I say, trying not to cry.

"The scar will be quite attractive." Ben says. I roll my good eye. "You can cover it, my love, if you so wish. Or perhaps a ruby, or obsidian to take its place."

My leg would fortunately recover. The scar ran from my thigh down to my calf. I have no idea how the maester was able to save it, but he did, and I was forever in his debt.

It would take me years to fully recover, but I had time. We had time.

It took days to clean up the land of bodies. Rain came, cleaning the grass of the blood that stained. After that, it was as if the battle never happened.

Each time I laid my eyes upon Stone Hedge, I sobbed. I would never forgive myself for my brother's death. While time would heal my wounds, they would never heal my grief.

———

Some years later

Benjicot and I married on the 20th day of the 7th moon of 129 AC. The union was approved by the queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, and her son Jacaerys had come to celebrate in her name.

I had become Lady Blackwood of Raventree Hall, and I was finally loved. I was loved deeply and greatly by my lord husband, Benjicot.

I had found a family in ones who were once considered my enemies. Alysanne and I set our differences aside and became sisters, Willem Blackwood accepted me as his new daughter.

The war however, was not so kind. It had been called The Dance of Dragons. My husband and I had gone off to fight for our kingdom numerous times, no matter how much he begged for me to stay back.

Nowhere felt more familiar to us than the battlefield. We fought side by side, protecting each other always. We had earned the nickname Bloody Ravens in time.

When the war finally ended, my husband and I returned home for good. Scars covered our bodies and we embraced them. They were reminders of who we were, and what we had endured together. Reminders that no matter what we faced, we would always be there to protect the other.

One day, my husband came to me.

"My little Bracken." He said, kissing my neck and wrapping his arms around me as we stood on the balcony, overlooking the land.

"Lord Husband." I greeted him. He hummed in my neck.

"I believe it's time we produced some heirs for House Blackwood." He says, planting gentle kisses along my neck.

"Is the babe in my belly not enough?" I ask, a playful smirk on my lips. He moves his hand down to my swollen belly, rubbing gentle circles.

"I want these halls running with Blackwood children." He continues to kiss me.

"Oh, my dear husband." I turn and cup his cheeks in my hand. "When I push this babe out within the next few days, you can fill me with another."

He smiles, planting a gentle kiss on my lips. Our daughter was born on the 3rd moon of 132 AC. Her name was Alyssa Blackwood. Benji held true to his word because after that pregnancy, we had 4 more; a boy and girl, the heir to Raventree Hall Aeron and his twin sister Aly Blackwood, another son, Benjamin Blackwood, another daughter, Nyra Blackwood, and another son Willem Blackwood.

"My little ravens." Benjicot called them.

And we lived in domestic bliss. Indeed, we had never felt peace again. But, who does after you have children? Our ravens roamed our halls, spreading chaos as Benjicot and I had when we were younger, but it was all we wanted. One day, my children would know the doomed song of their father and I's love. They would learn the history of our houses, the feud between them, the loss of their uncle. They were Bracken and Blackwood, through and through.

Bloody Ben died, and in his place was Benjicot Blackwood... Until the time always inevitably came where my husband and I went back out to fight. You can take the man out of the war, but you can never take the war out of the man.

Sometimes, we still snuck away at night, going back to that weirwood where it all began. We played, we swam, we fought, we fucked, we loved. It would always be our place, for just us. No matter what happened, no matter where we started, no matter who we were, who we became... we would always return to where we were meant to be.

And in years and years when Benji and I grew old and gray, ready to meet the Gods, we knew we would come back here again.

Together.

Where we began... Where we end.

𐂃 🐦‍⬛

[stormsbourne]

the real thing of it for me is that I played cf first and as a result I can kind of understand, a hair, a sliver, where this stuff comes from because, since cf was a last late addition, there's just a lot less meat on the bones and more space to fill in and some people have chosen to do that with 2010-20s politics that do not gel at all with the few times edelgard tells you her plans and goals

and I mean a lot of properly understanding every character in the game (but especially the lords) is seeing what happens with them in other routes. in cf dimitri has not even lost an eye and seems like he is doing at least a little bit better than he is on the other routes as he hasn't been in feral hiding mode for 5 years and he's had his support system intact. meanwhile on other routes edelgard is using forcibly transformed demon beasts and actively working with the actual villains of the game -- and no I don't think the slithers are just an addition to fool normies into centrism ala your daisy fitzroys or whatever, because that is not something this game is concerned with lol. feel like people deploy this accusation about centrist both sides bad villains every time ever since they saw it done in a youtube video and it's just not something that applies here

and also I'm sorry to say it but cf is just unfortunately not super good. it's shorter than the other plots, the characterization sometimes involves a lot of idiot ball carrying, there's sometimes a severe tone problem like the bit where the game goes from edelgard lying and telling everyone rhea blew up fort merceus (it's weird how nobody ever brings this up!!!) to anime shenanigans from the other beagles. who btw are written way more seriously and with much more depth in silver snow, the route that was originally intended for them before cf got added in at the end. there's no fucking reunion anime clip after the skip?? it's actually vaguely unclear byleth even falls into the crevice or whatever because edelgard just suddenly shouts as byleth goes off screen?

also again, the delightful complexity of edelgard believing the ends have to justify the means or her suffering meant nothing, I find that super interesting. but that's not the character people want to write and while I -- kind of -- get it I do think that it's just less compelling

I'm editing this to add another thing which is that each route has at least one commoner in the pre-recruited class to provide the working class take on what's going on and dorothea, the ONLY pre-recruited commoner for cf and ss, has never been less happy with the war than she is in cf

anyway

conflicted complicated morally gray edelgard is just a more fun concept to me

[imyourjettt]

It Just Got Better

Pairing: John Price x Reader

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: Reader smokes.

Summary: You meet someone named John Price in the smoking area outside a concert venue. You don't intend to have a conversation but you do. It just feels...right.

Author's Note: Requested by @deadbranch - I was writing this last night on ao3 when I accidentally closed it out without saving. Safe to say I went straight to bed after that. (Semi proofread)

Your friends decided it was time for you to start dating again. Which is why you are currently on a "date" with someone you just meant. Your date decided he needed a last-minute concert buddy and asked you. Those friends of yours thought it was a great idea, and since you didn't want to let them down you said yes. You enjoyed going to concerts, but you had no idea what band was playing. The concert venue was pretty small, and there was only a hand full of people present. Since it was small the lines were also shorter than normal. But ever since you got to the venue you couldn't help but itch for a smoke. Thank god the lines were short you thought to yourself. You held your composure as you both made your way into the building. Since this was a standing concert everyone was huddled around the stage waiting for it to start. You and your date stand somewhere in the middle of everyone. You look around and see the door to the back of the building. Once you turn back to face the stage the lights dim and music starts to play. The crowd was roaring with excitement. Looking over at your date, you realize he was paying no attention to you. You took this as a perfect time to slip out and outside. 

You practically slam the door open, the cold air hits you first sending a chill down your spine. You close your eyes taking in the moment. Yet you open them to see someone already standing against the wall, smoking. You lean up against the wall on the other side of the door, but you can't help but let your eyes roam the mysterious man. You start looking for the pack of cigarettes you recently bought. You took your time looking, for the cigarette and at the man. He was an older man wearing a boonie hat, with a decent amount of facial hair. Then taking a wild guess you figured he was around 6'2 which you couldn't help but admire.

Your attention snaps away from him once you realize you forgot a lighter at home. "Fuck," you curse under your breath.

"You need a light, hun?" he asks.

Just from that sentence, and his accent you could tell he was British. You look up at him, he holds out his light and motions you to come closer. You did. He hovers his lighter in front of you and takes a step forward as well. You put your hand over it covering it from the wind and put your cigarette up to the flame. You could almost feel his body heat just this close to him. You panic, mumbling some curses to yourself and at why the cigarette won't light fast enough. Once it does, you quickly back away. After the first puff, you look up and he is still looking at you.

"Thank you," you say quietly.

"You're welcome," he says. A moment passes, and you move back against the wall when he speaks again, "Aren't you going to enjoy the concert?" he asks in a curious tone. 

You let out a sigh. "I um, well I'm here with a date. My friends wanted me to go, so I did. He's enjoying the concert. Me on the other hand, I have no idea what band this is nor do I want to be here," you pause for a moment, "Sorry I'm rambling." 

He lets out a deep laugh, "It's quite all right. I'm here with my work team, they wanted a night out so I offered to drive em' and stay. Which is why I'm out here. Glad I have company now." 

You don't bother to make eye contact with him, if you did you wouldn't know what would happen. "I'm glad I have better company now," you let out a laugh. 

"He's not a good date, huh?" he questions. 

You look up at him, his blue eyes locked on yours. You stutter out, "Yeah, um. He's just really into the concert. He pays no mind to me, which is probably a good thing." 

"Hmm, still I'm sure you deserve better than that guy," he pauses for a moment, "How could he focus on the concert when you were right there," he whispers, yet it was loud enough for you to hear. 

Your eyes widen, his words replaying in your mind over and over again. You can't help but blush. You take another puff of your cigarette anxiously. He could tell you were affected by his words, "Sorry, that was too forward wasn't it?" his words were cocky yet confident. 

"It's alright," you say slowly. The way he talked with you, you couldn't help but be interested. "What's your name?" you decide to ask. 

He blew out the smoke from his cigarette, "John Price, you?" 

Telling him your name, he's quick to compliment it. You couldn't help but think about how much he was making you blush. Suddenly the cold air was the least of your problems now. His compliments gave you a huge ego boost, so deciding to be bold you ask him, "Do you, um. Have a girlfriend?" 

He laughs out his response, "I do not." You could feel his eyes move over to you, "But I sure as hell wouldn't mind having one, hm." 

You shuttered with excitement at the thought. Still feeling his eyes watching you, you turn over to him and ask, "Do you want to have a drink with me? There's a bar inside..." You let the idea linger in the air, afraid he would reject it. 

He puts his cigarette flame out, "I'd love to." 

You couldn't help but smile up at him, you do the same with your cigarette. "Then let's," You couldn't help but show your excitement. As you made your way over to the bar your phone buzzed. It was your friends asking if the date was going well. A small grin appears on your face as you type back, "It just got even better :)"  You turn your phone on DND and make your way over to the bar where John was saving a seat for you.

[aeithalian]

……you MUST know I want your director’s cut thoughts on a shard or two lol xoxo MJ/kiwiana-writes (my kingdom for asks from sideblogs)

OOOOH hehe hello MJ i keep seeing you pop up reccing a shard or two and just know that every time i see it, i send up a little prayer that your pillows are cold on both sides.

ANYWAYS (most of my followers on this blog aren't RWRB fans but who cares) a shard or two is definitely a weird fever dream of a fic. I read the entire book in like 24 hours (this was just before the movie came out, so less than a year ago) and I, having a strange interest in politics, was like 'hmm, you know what? not enough politics'. So now we have a shard or two. I've always had a interest in politics and I always felt weird about being that person who has a strange in-depth knowledge about the US government, but I think writing the fic helped me think about politics in less of a pessimistic way, like 'here's what I would want to see in modern-day politics'. It also kind of raises the philosophical question of how good people function in a corrupt system without being corrupted themselves, and Alex is such an interesting character to play with on that front because I view him as so idealistic that he refuses to be corrupted purely out of spite and stubbornness.

So, that's how it got started, I think. I told myself I wasn't going to start another WIP while I have one going for a different fandom, but here we are. I originally intended for it to be way shorter than it was (here I was thinking last October that 20k was an insane length for chapter 1, and then chapter 3 ended up being 100k all put together), but it's been such a fun passion project and a real stress-reliever for some reason, and a great way to develop my writing. Somebody in the comments asked me if I write professionally (I do not, and I likely never will, but I appreciate the sentiment).

As for director's commentary, I'm just spitballing here but I have so much fun stuff to share so here ya go.

I know there's this whole debate in the fandom about whether or not Alex goes into politics post-canon, like either go into local politics or start his own firm or whatever, and I generally don't see a lot of people saying that he would go into upper-level politics like he does in the fic. Very rarely do I see any post-canon fics that delve into what Alex's future career might look like if he ran for any office, so I kind of just did it myself, as one does. I do remember seeing CMQ say on their Instagram that Alex wouldn't run for president, but he might run for governor of Texas, but I kind of pulled a Harry Potter fandom and ignored the author (sorry not sorry), but I did make a reference to it early on in chapter 3 for anybody who's looking for any easter eggs). Regardless, it's very fun writing a Gen Z politician who gives no fucks (Alex is Gen Z, I'm taking no critiques on this). I'm so excited for people my age to start running for office. We're going to kill it, I feel it in my bones (you won't catch me up there, but maybe in some health policy behind-the-scenes work, who knows).

The names for the characters were a ton of fun to come up with, and I tweaked them all the time, but here are some tidbits behind some of them:

Edward McKinney's (opposed the amendment in chapter 2 and was Alex's opponent for the Democratic nomination in chapter 3) last name is a play on William McKinley (the 25th US president) to kind of bring this mindset to the table that McKinney is exactly who your stereotypical politician is who would run for president.

Pinkley's name is also a reference to Charles Pinckney, who ran for president in 1804 and 1808 as a Federalist. For no particular reason. I was just having fun with it.

Treacher's name actually comes from the word 'treacherous' because I originally intended for him to be way more of a villain than he ended up being, because I thought it would be interesting to have a political opponent who isn't necessarily an enemy.

Aksel Wolter's (the guy who overthrew my man Onderburg for the Baltonian presidency) name was originally going to be Signe Wolter, but then I saw a cool TikTok that compared some enemies throughout history and saw how similar their names were (George Washington & King George, Jesus & Judas, Obama & Osama, etc.) so I thought it would be cool to have an Alex and an Axel, but the spelling was too similar so that's how we ended up with Aksel because that's also a way it's spelled in northern Europe.

Erik Onderburg's (you know who he is, RIP 😈) original name was Henrik, and that got all the way into the published version of chapter 2 (he's mentioned towards the end), and then when I was writing the first scene of chapter 3 and realized that Henrik and Henry were way too similar, I had to change it.

Ellie (full name Elena) is named after Ellen, with a bit of a Hispanic twist. I think Alex and Henry's deal was if they had a girl, they'd name her after Ellen, and if they had a boy, they'd name him after Arthur. I like to think the middle name would have been Orion either way.

Hunter Weaver (the in-universe replacement of Anderson Cooper) has nothing to do with WASPY Hunter. That was a total coincidence and completely unintentional. But, hey, if you want to believe they're the same person, go for it.

All the research in there is legit! Wikipedia has been a fucking godsend for election results and facts about government structures outside of the US, but it kind of sucks trying to relay stuff into two decades in the future. You never know what kinds of issues are going to be important in 20 years, so I actually kind of avoided that problem by just relating it to some of our current issues today: queer rights, specifically in trans communities, election fraud, 3rd party candidates, human rights issues (ikyk) and so on. And the makeup of NATO, the UN, G20, etc. haven't changed because I can't see into the future.

I also had to do a surprising amount of math? Trying to figure out dates and stuff was way more difficult than I anticipated, especially for election results and percentages, but I realized I really don't need to pull out my TI-84 calculator for a fucking fanfic, but I'm also terrified of the prospect that somebody will correct me on any of my math or research so the calculator stays. It makes for some funny moments, though, like when I realized that if Alex actually ran in the 2040, he would really have Teddy Roosevelt beat for the post of 'youngest president' by, no joke, 3 weeks. So that's kind of fun (and how I firmly decided to have that be the timeline of things).

I write most of the speeches the characters give myself, but I use chat gpt to get me started sometimes (the product is always pretty bland, so it's really just a reference for structure), but I use real-life speeches for reference too. For example (and a bit of a sneak peek), in chapter 4, Alex is giving a speech to the UN General Assembly, and I lifted a couple phrases directly from one of Obama's speeches.

Writing this fic on google docs was a terrible decision. When i was writing chapter 3, the entire word count was well over 160k and the software was getting so laggy every time I needed to control f something for reference. So chapter 4 and beyond is currently being written in a new google doc. Speaking of which, having to switch all my formatting over onto ao3 with chapters this long is a pain in the ass. 0/10 do not recommend having to go through each chapter and fix the formatting every time just because I wanted to have fun little article inserts.

I was going to make it smutty and then i chickened out. i deeply apologize for my cowardice (i've never done smut before).

I guess if you want a couple sneak peeks for chapter 4, I can do that too 😜

If this next chapter had a motto, it would be "every president has their tragedy". Yes, that should probably scare you. (honestly, I'm a little nervous to write it too, just because I know it's pretty dark but hey, if Disney can show Mulan killing 2,000 Huns in an animated children's movie, then I can tag this as mature and not be worried about traumatizing people, okay?)

If it had a theme song, it might be 'Fourth of July' by Sufjan Stevens or 'Abstract (Psychopomp)' by Hozier. (Don't be scared, you'll be fine, because if the chapter after that had a theme song, it would be 'Dog Days are Over' by Florence and the Machine)

So, all the chapters are titled with 5 stages of career development (completely arbitrary, I worked off Indeed's for a while and then I said 'fuck it'). Stage 1 was Establishment, stage 2 was Maintenance, stage 3 (spanning ch. 3 and 4 on ao3) was Advancement. So stage 4 (ch. 5 on ao3) will be Obstruction, so take that how you will. But stage 5 (ch. 6 on ao3) will be Resolution, so that should make you feel better. They're sister chapters, so although the conflict itself is resolved in chapter 4, the lasting changes and long-term effects of that conflict will be mostly featured in chapter 5 (which, honestly, is the one I'm most excited to write because I feel like it's that moment when Alex really grows into himself).

And a little fun knowledge just for you: there's actually going to be a stage 6 (ch. 7, on ao3). I was going to surprise readers by adding on a chapter after I publish stage 5 with a 'psych! you thought this was over, suckers'. Stage 6 is titled 'Reflection', so I'm planning for it to be about how Alex leaves office dealing with the idea of his own legacy and accomplishments (but as I teased in Stage 3, he won't actually be 'done').

I think that's all I've got in me. Chapter 4 is in the works, but it's taking way longer than I'd like (I've only just started part 1 😬) since I started a new job that's kind of sucking the life out of me. I'm very excited to share it, though! I'll be sad when it's over (maybe I'll do a missing moments oneshot series after, who knows).

director's cut ask game

[chiaraanatra]

You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin' | Part 2

Summary: Goose meets you at the Miramar Officers’ Club and after a drink and a brief conversation he wished would never end he believes that he’ll never see you again. Little did he know while this may have been your first meeting, it would not be your last.

Warning: Swearing, boys being stupid, me knowing nothing about how radar works, Goose having some suggestive thoughts

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Goose is a leg man I will not be taking any questions on the matter. We are all imagining that Carol is living her best life somewhere far from San Diego. I love her and Goose and refuse to kill her off or have either one of them go through a divorce. Sorry not sorry to Bradley for wiping your existence from this fictional plane. Also I know nothing about planes, aviation, engineering, or the Navy, I'm just a Goose girly at heart.

《 part 1 || part 3 || part 4 || epilogue 》 《 m.list || ao3 》

Maverick and Goose stood stiff as boards against one of the joint naval offices. Goose could feel himself sweating through his khaki uniform as he listened to an irate Air Boss Johnson scream at Commander Mike ‘Viper’ Metcalf. “One of your snot-nosed jockeys did a flyby on my tower at over 400 knots! I want somebody's butt! I want it now! I've had it!”

Johnson burst through the office doors just in time to knock into a Navy boy carrying a tray of coffee. “God damn it! That's twice! I want some butts!” He screamed as he made his way down the hall.

Viper and Jester emerged from the office. Viper let out a sigh, “Well, that'll just about cover the flybys.”

Lieutenant Commander Heatherly looked over at the boys, “Follow me.”

The walk down the hall felt like miles. Nick was used to Pete’s antics, they had been flying together for years, but sometimes it felt like Mav didn’t understand what was really at stake with all this. Goose needed this, not the Top Gun trophy, if Nick was honest, he could give a fuck about the trophy, but if this went south, the two could get kicked out of Top Gun, or worse, lose their wings and be grounded.

The four walked into Commander Metcalf’s office. Metcalf grabbed a manila folder from his desk, before standing to look out his office window. Mav and Goose stood at attention in front of the commander’s desk mentally preparing for the ass-chewing they were about to receive.

“Gentlemen, you had a hell of a first day.” Viper glanced out his office window. “The hard deck for this hop was 10,000 feet. You knew it, you broke it. You followed Commander Heatherly below after he lost sight of you and called ‘no joy.’ Why?” Viper’s voice was steady and calm, too calm for Goose’s liking.

“Sir!” Mav looked straight ahead, “I had Commander Heatherly in my sights. He saw me move in for the kill. He then proceeded below the hard deck. We weren't below 10,000 for more than a few seconds. I had the shot, there was no danger, so I took it.”

God damn it, Mav…

Commander Metcalf turned towards the boys. “You took it... and broke a major rule of engagement!” The rise in his voice made Goose want to curl up and die as he watches the commander walk towards them. “Then you broke another one with that circus stunt flyby.” Viper let out a sigh as he looked back out his office window. “Lieutenant Mitchell... Top Gun rules exist for your safety and that of your team. They are not flexible, nor am l. Either obey them, or you are history. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir!” Stated Mav, his eyes remaining focused on the window in front of him.

Metcalf took the seat in front of his desk before dismissing the young aviators.

Goose followed closely behind Maverick, closing the Commander’s office door after him. He let his hand come down a bit harder than he might have intended on the shorter pilot’s shoulder, “I really enjoyed that, Mav. Thanks a lot.” He leaned up against the wall, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Holy shit! Maybe I could learn how to be a truck driver.” He dropped his hands and looked back at Pete. “You have the number of that driving school on TV? Truck Master, I think it is. I might need that…”

Before he could spiral any further, he was brought out of his thoughts by a voice as sweet as honey. “Lieutenant.”

The two men turned to look down the hall. Goose was greeted by a beautiful sight. His eyes widened as he took in your form, making their way from your heels that clicked on the tile floor to your stocking-clad legs that went on for miles. When they made their way to the first of your outfit, Goose couldn’t help but wish your skirt was a little shorter and there was one less button done on your blouse.

Goose shut his eyes and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Get it together, she’s your instructor!

As you came closer to the two-man Maverick turned to his RIO. “Okay, well,” he dusted off the shoulders of Goose’s khaki uniform. “Don’t be nervous. You look great, dear.”

“Thanks, honey.” Goose turned to you as Maverick made his way down the hall.

You couldn’t help but smile at the interaction. But quickly regained your professional composure. “That pilot of yours is quite the troublemaker. I could hear Johnson yelling from my office down the hall.”

“Mav’s not one to think before he acts. It’s bitten me in the ass more times than I would like to admit.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard about his hotshot antics. Charlie was annoyed, to say the least, after finding out that the two of you were the famous MIG insulter. Then again, judging by the back and forth with Charlie this morning, you seem to enjoy yourself at times.

“Oh, you heard all that...?” Goose looked down at his boots gently taping his foot.

“Bits and pieces to say the least,” You notice him looking everywhere but you. “Look, Charlie and I are instructors, we see 20 new hotshots every eight weeks.” If you were being honest you weren’t completely sure what you were saying. You are his instructor the last thing you should be thinking about is flirting with one of your students, let alone thinking about how good he looks in that khaki uniform. “That being said…”

Goose couldn’t bring himself to look up from his boots, it may have been disrespectful in some right, but he wasn’t sure where to look at this felt like the safest bet. His thoughts were running a mile a minute. Here it comes. Yeah, we can forget all about last night and I promise to think only wholesome thoughts when looking at you-

“I would love to see that MiG polaroid sometime.” You smiled up as the taller man finally met your gaze. You swear you could fall for those amber eyes even though you both knew that could never happen.

Goose smiled at your comment. “I’ll admit if this top gun thing doesn’t work out, I could always fall on photography as a backup,” he joked.

“Don’t forget your singing career. With that, you’re practically a triple threat, Lieutenant.

“Please, call me Nick. At least in casual conversation.”

“Are you anticipating more casual conversations with me Lieutenant?” Before he could answer you looked down at your watch noticing the time. “Well, Nick I should get going. I’m sure I will be seeing you.”

The way his name fell from your lips was heavenly. Unfortunately, before he could form a cohesive sentence you were already making your way down the hall.

The next day the Pilots and RIOs were split, with pilots going with Charlie to discuss the maneuvering capabilities of the F-18 and RIOs going with you to discuss radar systems and running hypotheticals drills.

You were leaning on the desk in front and center of the small lecture-style room. You could hear the ROIs down the hall before they made their entrance into the room. Marcus ‘Sundown’ Williams, Leonard ‘Wolfman’ Wolfe, Ron "Slider" Kerner, and Nick ‘Goose’ Bradshaw. The boys took their seats as you began.

Goose couldn’t help but stare at you as you began talking about radar systems that he knew like the back of his hand. He listened to you talk about the F14’s APG-65 system and its uses. He couldn’t deny that you knew what you were talking about, he could tell that this introduction was to spell that out to the others. He thought about how often people might not take you as seriously as they might a man in your same position and how the thought of someone disrespecting you ticked him off.

“-but you all knew that.” Your pause brought Nick out of his thoughts to focus back on your lecture. “To an extent, a raid assessment allows radar separation of closely spaced targets. While these are advanced systems, and ones far better than what we were using 3 years ago, they are not perfect. If a second MiG is flying close enough below the first, the APG won’t be able to detect the second aircraft until it has diverged from its partner.” You paused for a moment to glance at Goose. “I’m sure some of you have seen this firsthand.” You tried not to maintain eye contact with Goose for too long, however, his eyes never left your form.

Your lecture came to a close. You stood at the head of the desk gathering some files. You hadn’t noticed that someone had stayed behind until you heard a voice from behind you. “You really know your stuff.” Goose was leaning against the railing in front of the first row of lecture seating.

“I sure hope so, I was told I was hired for that very reason.” You said with a smile before turning to face the tall aviator. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

Goose looked down at his boots before looking back up to meet your gaze, “I wanted to ask, why didn’t you tell me who you were the other night.”

“I remember telling you my name. However, I may have left out the Top Gun instructor part.” You leaned against the desk and watched as Nick made his way close to you.

“A small detail. I can see how it could be overlooked.” He joked. He stopped just in of you, watching you look up at him. He couldn’t help as less-than-appropriate thoughts wandered into his mind. He shouldn’t be flirting with you, but you weren’t exactly making any attempts to stop him.

“A small oversight.” You could feel your heartbeat quicken slightly. You bite your cheek in an attempt to subdue the smile that was attempting to make its way across your lips. You couldn’t deny that Nick Bradshaw was a handsome man. His dirty blonde hair, his amber eyes, his voice that you knew could make any woman melt.

“I’ll be honest… I’m very tempted to ask you to dinner.”

Your eyes left his as you scribbled something on a piece of paper, “I usually make it a point to not date my students, Lieutenant.”

For a moment Nick thought he had crashed and burned, but then your words hit him, “usually?”

You folded the quarter sheet of paper twice, “usually.” You smile up at him before standing and gathering your things. Before making your exit, you placed the small note into his breast pocket, taping it lightly.

Nick watched as you exited the room. As clique as it was, he hated to see you go but couldn’t complain about watching you leave. When you were out the door he quickly grabbed the note out of his pocket

Dinner tonight 6:00 102 Laurel Beach Don’t be late!

“Holy shit…” Goose looked at his watch, it was 3:30 now. He grabbed his jacket and ran out into the hallway only to be met with Mav and Ice having a dick-measuring contest just down the hall. “Mav!” he waved his pilot down.

“Might want to run along to mother Goose,” Ice laughs.

“Yeah, I’m sure you have to find Slider and make sure he’s not lost in the hangar again.” Mav flashed the taller pilot a smile before making his way down the hall to his RIO.

“You never gonna believe this,” he hands Mav the note.

Mav looks at the note, “wow, Goose, your handwriting has improved. But you didn’t have to write me a note to get me to go to dinner with you.”

Goose let out a fake laugh placing his hand over his heart, “haha! Oh, Mav, you kill me!” He snatches the note out of the shorter man’s hands. “It’s from Stinger.”

“Bullshit!”

Nick held up three fingers, “scouts honor!”

Mav looked at his watch, “You better get going. You definitely need a shower. Also please don’t wear one of your stupid Hawaiian shirts…”

“What? Ladies love my Hawaiian shirts!”

“Sure, they do.” Mav rolled his eyes watching his friend practically run down the hallway. “And use protection!” He yells.

Goose turns to run backward and flashes a middle finger and a smile to Mav before making his way out of the building.

Part 3

Taglist: @luckyladycreator2 & @saturnsbabe69

As always, feedback, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑? 𝐿𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 💜

[ntrlily]

I was about to follow you but then I saw "webp defender" and I'm sorry but what?

The shorter version is that when I try to load a gallery on a miraheze wiki and they haven't optimized their images for internet usage the load time makes me want to be dead. Webps are quite a bit smaller than jpegs and pngs and reducing filesizes is a great way to make internet go fast.

The longer version is that there are some dubious aspects to webps, but they're legitimately a pretty good format for what they're intended for: displaying on the internet. They got a rough start with slow adoption which is the cause of most of the discontent surrounding webps, but these days a lot of those complaints don't quite hold water anymore. The majority of modern image editing softwares support webp, and if you just want to download an image and display it as your background, or randomly look at it and send to people on skypecord, it just works nowadays.

Circling back, webp hate isn't about webp as a format because most users don't really care about what is going on with a file, they just care that it works. I live in the fucking mountains and my internet sucks so it is vwery important to me that you please optimize your uploads better, and webps at this point in time are a great combo of "currently fairly well-supported" and "tiny filesizes"

Anyway yeah put smaller files on the internet.