#not like there was lore for the second one i’d just sit them all in a room WATAFSFFAF

[angeldreamsoffanfic]

“What’s the deal with you and Harrington?”

Robin Buckley glanced up toward the question asker, her brows slightly furrowed as she cast an inquisitive look toward Eddie Munson. He’s leant up on one of his elbows, chin cradled in the palm of his hand. His eyes are on her, large and curious, instead of the usual half-lidded expression he wears during the “adult” hangouts.

They’d all started hanging out ever since Vecna was destroyed, taking time away from the younger members of The Party to spend time all together. Herself, Eddie, Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle. Sometimes, every once in a while, it led them all to feel normal. As if they hadn’t all been dealing with more Upside Down crap just a few months prior.

“What do you mean?” Robin instead asked, her eyes moving from Eddie’s to dart out toward the Harrington’s pool. Steve is sitting on the edge of it with Jonathan, the two boys heads bent together as Argyle watched on- a dopey almost lovesick expression curled on his mouth. A spliff dangled from Jonathan’s fingertips, rolled by Eddie but the weed supplied by Jonathan.

“You’re… not together.” Eddie’s voice is soft, and barely spoken above a murmur. Robin nodded slowly, and turned her head towards him to try and indicate him to continue. “Nancy and the kids all repeat platonic with a capital P, but I just… how did you and Harrington even happen?”

“Scoops A’hoy,” Robin grinned wide, barely able to stifle the laugh that’s on the backend of her words. She was able to catch the widened look that Eddie threw her way, before his eyes darted out to look towards Steve, before his eyes moved back to her own. “He and I worked there back when the mall was open.”

“And… what? You instantly became best friends?”

“No, actually.” Robin shook her head with another soft laugh, before she paused so she could rub her palms together. She allowed herself to twist one of her rings around her finger, brows pinched for a moment. “I actually thought he was like the worst, y’know?” Robin scoffed to herself, before she sent Eddie a look. She knew what she must look like, her eyes wet with tears and her gaze all permanently soft.

“You know how he was in school, King Steve and all that.” Robin continued on, and she flicked her tongue out of her mouth to wet the corner of her lips for a second. “And when my manager told me that I’d be working with a Steve, well… there was only one Steve in Hawkins I could think of.”

“So how did your opinion of him change then, Buckley?” Eddie cocked his head again, one of his hands coming up to twirl a strand of hair around his pointer finger. His brows were furrowed taut, creating a worry line in between them. “The kids told me about the Russians-”

“It was sort of before then,” Robin admitted with a small shrug, and she twisted the corner of her lip into a shy smile. “He raved to me, y’know? About uh, these kids. These five kids he’d babysit and shit, and it was so… soft?” Robin watched as Eddie mouthed out names to himself as he ticked his fingers, before he cast a look to her. “But he always talked about this one, Ellie, who he’d call his little sister.”

Eddie drew in a sharp breath, eyes wide as Robin let out a soft hum.

“Yeah, and I don’t know if you submitted yourself to Harrington family lore-” Robin gestured behind her toward the Harrington house with a flick of her hand, before she continued. “But I knew that Dick and Helen Harrington didn’t have more than one kid.”

“Supergirl?” Eddie asked softly, and Robin let out a soft confirming hum as she watched Eddie’s eyes dart toward Steve. Steve was still talking to Jonathan, though Argyle had shifted forward so he was able to join in the conversation.

“And then imagine my surprise when one day our stupid sailor ice cream shop is visited by none other than the Chief.” Robin shook her head with a small laugh, before she continued on. “And he was so excited to see Steve, Eddie. Like genuinely excited to see him, ordered a couple tubs of ice cream togo and then said he’d see him at home.”

“Fuck.” Eddie breathed out, and Robin let out another sigh of a laugh.

“And I asked Steve why the Chief of the Hawkins police force was visiting him at work, and Steve just…” Robin shrugged slowly, shaking her head to clear her thoughts before she continued. “He just gave me this look, like… like he didn’t actually know either.”

“Then later, he told me why he watched all of the kids. He told me that he would’ve given anything for someone to just… to just care about him when he was their age. That all he wanted was for just a person to give a shit about his wellbeing.” Robin shook her head again, before she carded a hand through her still chlorine sticky hair. “And after that my opinion just… it just changed about him.”

“Then the Russians?” Eddie asked softly, and Robin hummed as she dipped her chin in a curt nod.

“Then the Russians, and he didn’t… he didn’t even hesitate to take the attention onto himself when they started questioning us.” Robin shook her head again, sniffling. “And after I asked him why he would do that, and he told me it was because he knew I had a family waiting on me to come back home.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, and then afterwards when we were getting seen by the EMTs? He didn’t have anyone to call Eddie. Because Hopper? Hopper was just… just presumed dead.” Robin let out a soft bitter laugh, and she twisted a strand of her hair around her finger. “My parents decided to take us both home after, and he stayed with us for a couple of days- until his concussion was okay enough for him to sleep through the night.”

“And that’s when you became best friends?”

“That’s when I decided that, Steve? He deserved way more from people than he seemed to ever fucking get.” Robin shrugged, before she cast a soft smile toward Eddie. Eddie’s eyes were glassy, wet with tears and Robin just patted her hand soft against his forearm. “That’s when I decided that he was my best friend.”

“Platonic with a capital P?”

Robin cast a look toward Steve, where the older teen already had his eyes on her. He had a hand extended, fingers wiggling toward her in a small way to beckon her toward his side. Robin stood without responding to Eddie, and she left her towel on the lounge chair she’d commandeered as her own. She took a moment though, cast a softer look toward Eddie- even as the corner of her lip twitched into a nervous smile.

“He’s not exactly my type, y’know?” Robin kept her admission soft, even when Eddie’s eyes were quick to flood with confusion. She instead cast a look toward the sunbathing Nancy Wheeler, who had one of her arms strewn over her face across the backyard where she laid in the grass.

When Robin let her eyes move to meet Eddie’s again, he has a look of pure understanding on his face.

“I think I get what you mean.” Eddie murmured and Robin simply flashed Eddie Munson a shy smile.

Eddie Munson watched as Robin Buckley walked away from him, quick to tuck herself into Steve’s side once she reached him. Steve threw his arm around Robin’s shoulders, tucking her further into his grasp- though the flow of conversation that he was having with Argyle and Jonathan didn’t even pause.

It’s in that moment when Eddie Munson realizes something extraordinarily fucking crucial.

He’s in love with Steve fucking Harrington.

---

this is gonna become a multipart fic i think btw! it will probably be on here / ao3, haven’t fully decided yet but hope you enjoyed nonetheless!

now with a part two! click here

[lqfiles]

SCORE THAT GOAL! — 51. be your boyfriend?

previous — master list —next

notes ; a short chapter but one more official chapter after this !!!

BONUS — wc: 494

“okay, so next time i’m not letting you choose what we’re watching.” jisung placed the laptop aside before stretching his limbs on his bed. from beside him, you let out a laugh as you stretched your arms as well, leaning towards jisung by the end of it. “i’m sorry, but i love the winx club, i’m just trying to familiarise you with the lore.” jisung turned his head to look at you, stoic expression changing to a soft smile.

“right, because watching a movie made halfway through the series definitely helps me get familiar.” jisung chuckled before sitting up with his hands stretched behind him. “well, i thought of binge watching the first season but i didn’t wanna overwhelm you with all of that.” you continued to lay on jisung’s bed, playing with the hem of your shirt.

“by the way, i told jeno to not tell anyone about what happened friday.” jisung revealed, looking back your way to watch your reactions. you shrugged. “that’s okay, mark wouldn’t go around tattling so i don’t mind keeping it a secret. but i don’t know how long i’ll be able to keep it a secret from ningning, im sure she’ll find out.” you continued to play with the edge of your clothing and jisung hummed.

“let’s just not say anything at all? let them find out themselves.” jisung decided to lay back down next to you, gazing up at his ceiling. “so what now?” he questioned. “this is the part where you ask to be my boyfriend.” you grinned, turning sideways to look at jisung’s side profile. caught of guard, a slight blush crept up his neck before he moved up a bit, turning his body sideways after.

“alright, i don’t even know how to do this.” jisung awkwardly laughed but the look of endearment on your face made him feel much more comfortable. “it’s okay, i can do the honours.”

“no need, just give me a second.” jisung breathed in and out before taking ahold of your hand. the small gesture made you want to hide your face and you couldn’t look up at him anymore. “look at me?” jisung requested in a whisper.

you looked up to see jisung stare right at you. whether it was the lighting or his eyes itself, the way they glimmered as they looked into yours made you feel almost under a trance. jisung squeezed your hand to bring your attention back to him.

“(—), this will sound cliché but i truly do believe that i’ve never liked someone this much before. the thought of you being with anyone that isn’t me sounds wrong and i’d rather that possibility not come true, so.. will you let me be your boyfriend?”

jisung’s proposal put your mind into a frenzy and your heart did a thousand flips. nodding your head profusely, you wrapped your arms around jisung’s neck before pulling yourself closer to him.

“i’d love to more than anything else.”

TAGLIST ; @rksbae @222brainrot @severefireangelprune @violetvoo @prdshobi @kikookii @haechansbbg @en-dream @bbxnny-bbxtch @cvpidxo @jaeminslattes @90s-belladonna @softieluvsyou @wenjunblossoms @be0mluver @jeongintwt @myhaechan @love1again @ckline35 @cassie6392 @hibernatinghamster @starboys-gf @rllymark @mfaal @snflwrhaerecs4u @sunflowerbebe07 @ahnneyong @enhalovie @galacticpurpl3 @manooffline @luv4jeno @mikadorbs @1moo7 @ksywoo @ohdudehesflirting @savluvsmingi @finnydraws @invumi @crvzy-fujoshi @peterparkerluvvbot @hrjunluvs @i2kittenz @jisungji @http-peachie @jisyng @sweetcandycum @giaccolo @shotaroswifeyily @sinsgaybutthatsokay @be-my-sunrise @syzavxy @kyusqult @mxlly143 @o-schist @bigjishirt @snuglyjwi @hyunniesvlog @shuaadmirer

[hongism]

DJANGO. - s. mingi (m)

➼ genre; smut ➼ pairing; mingi x fem!reader ➼ au; outlaw/hitman!mingi, dystopian futurism, lore accurate ateez ➼ warnings; explicit smut ➼ rating; m/18+ ➼ wc; 3.7k

Top shelf bourbon, no ice, and an orange peel over the rim of the glass. You only like the taste when it comes from his lips.

part of the outlaw miniseries.

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➼ smut warnings; piv, unprotected sex, biting, marking, rough sex, choking (unsafe practices used pls don’t do!), pain kink/play, slight blood play, creampie, pet names: darling & angel

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He comes into the bar as you’re wiping down the counter. One small glance at him would be enough to tell you where he’s been — the sweat on his brow under the brim of his cowboy hat is a dead giveaway for sure — but you don’t even need that much to know. A smell comes with him, one that you aren’t fond of but have grown used to in the time you’ve known this man, and that’s the lingering sulfuric scent that wafts into the bar with him. It clings to his leather jacket like a second skin by now. Perhaps part of you should be flattered that he comes to you after a hit, but then again this bar is all but his home, so you’re simply in a convenient place at a convenient time every time he returns.

“Want your usual?” you ask despite it being well past closing time. Preferential treatment for someone you’re quite fond of, and also on account of the man currently stationed on the roof seizing ownership of the bar prior to you being hired. Turning back, you pull a glass tumbler from the shelf without waiting for his response, affirmed by nothing more than a grunt as he comes to sit down at the bar. “How were things tonight?”

“Have you been waitin’ long?” Mingi asks in lieu of answering, and you smile to yourself.

“Hm, no, I wouldn’t say so. I had ample time to clean everything and wonder about when and how you would come in, so I’d say that’s time well spent.”

“And how exactly did you think that’d go down?” Sometimes you wonder if Mingi genuinely wishes to know your thoughts or if it’s simply a desire to prolong the conversation. Either way, he watches you with such rapt focus that you feel heat on the back of your neck from the scrutiny.

Top shelf bourbon, no ice, and an orange peel over the rim of the glass. Setting the drink down before him on the counter, you lean hard on the wood as your eyes squeeze shut.

“You come with your big cowboy hat with that gun slung around your arm, and you come up to me right here at the bar and you dip your hat like such a fine gentleman before saying 'How're things 'round here these days ma'am?'." You open your eyes and smile wide at Mingi. "Is that a sufficient enough fantasy for you?“

He dips his chin as one side of his lips pulls up to form a misshapen grin.

“I missed a shot tonight.” The shock reads on your face too quickly for you to conceal comfortably, even as you duck your chin and clear your throat to play it off, Mingi stares at you the same. “He clipped my arm before taking one between the eyes.” You blink down to his sleeves, noting the singed leather on his upper left arm that shows clear signs of damage. There are bandages underneath — or at least you’re assuming them to be bandages, it’s difficult to tell with how scarlet stains them. You move without saying a word in response, and Mingi shifts to follow your movements with his gaze, dedicated to the point of rotating his body as you go. “Nothin’ too terrible, darling. I already patched it up just fine on my own.”

“You go out and get fucking shot,” you hiss through gritted teeth just as you come around the edge of the bar, “then waltz back here acting a damn fool?” Mingi spreads his legs the moment you come up to him, effectively letting you press even closer to him when your hands grab for the collar of his jacket.

“I wanted to see you,” he murmurs, eyes wandering all over your face. “Wanted to fuck you.”

“Mingi.” You pull his jacket down to his forearms as the noise of exasperation leaves your lips.

“What’s so wrong about that?” he asks in return, hand wandering from the counter to find a new home on your hip. His hand is large and warm and proves to be quite distracting when he starts to let his thumb run along the sliver of bare skin he can now reach. You don’t opt to answer his nonsensical question in favor of working the jacket off his shoulders and exposing bare arms and a skimpy leather vest that leaves fairly little to the imagination. Your focus remains strong though, and you hone in on the cloth bound around his bicep. The area is relatively clean aside from the bandage, to your surprise. Mingi reaches up to lay a hand over the one you still have clenched around his sleeve. “Cleaned and dressed it already, angel. Stop worrying that pretty little head of yours for a second and let me see you smile.”

“Don’t let my drink go to waste and let me actually clean this shit first. Then you can have both those things.” You pull away to find the nearest first aid kit just for Mingi to snag your belt loop and pull you back to him.

“And something extra?” His lips are chasing yours already; you push the tip of your index finger to them before he can get any closer. One kiss will be more than enough to distract you from the task at hand, which is like what he is aiming for knowing how Mingi is. Despite the less-than-stellar circumstances, you do find his cheeky grin endearing more than you find it infuriating, which means you only leave his side with a roll of your eyes and not any more snippy remarks.

He sits still and sips at the drink you prepared for him while watching you work. It feels like a bit of a rhythm that you fall into — pulling the first aid kit out, taking what you need from it, returning to Mingi’s side in little to no time — and you’re somewhat grateful for him allowing quiet to hang about the bar because it means you can clean his wound without distraction on his part. It truly isn’t a terrible injury, just as he had claimed (but you aren’t about to admit that to his face, otherwise you won’t hear the end of it for the next three weeks at minimum). However, he did not dress it well in the slightest and if he did clean it, then he did not do a thorough enough job by your standards.

Mingi’s glass is empty by the time you finish wrapping a fresh and proper bandage around his arm, securing it in its place with a strip of medical tape. You lean back to admire your handiwork that’s far and away better than what you started with. Mingi twists to look over it as well.

“Not half bad, huh?” you quip, nudging his knee with your hip before turning to return everything to where you dragged it from. Mingi’s fingers pinch and hook on the fabric of your front pocket first. In one quick motion, he spins you back to face him, though now he’s gotten to his feet and presses so close to you that you come face to face with his torso.

You get your first taste of him tonight right then when he dips down to capture your lips with his. Bourbon and orange sit heavy on his tongue as he licks into your mouth, and you drink in the taste. Like you’ve been starved of the taste for eons, like you’ve been searching for an oasis in the midst of a desert and he’s the last source of water on the planet. You laugh against his lips at the thoughts running through your mind at present — they sound more like the sweet nothings and pillow talk he would whisper to you before falling asleep under the stars than thoughts of your own.

Mingi shifts his weight against you and diverts all your thoughts towards other, much larger, and much more prominent things. Namely what’s pressing hard into your hip through his leather pants and making itself very known to you.

“Eager much?” you murmur, lips pulling up at the corners. Mingi’s hands move to the bar counter and cage you in against the wood. A shaky breath escapes you, one of anticipation and budding arousal. As the air from your lips fans out across Mingi’s sharp features, he leans in and catches skin between teeth, nipping and tugging hard enough to sting. First at your already swollen lips, then lower just below your jaw, again and again on the way down your neck until he’s satisfied to pause at your collarbone. He drags teeth over the fragile skin there in a way that makes goosebumps rush over your skin.

Hands scramble to find purchase on each other’s bodies, and when that’s not enough, Mingi settles to sweep his arms wildly behind you on the counter. It sends the first aid kit flying, tipping it over the edge of the bar and making it clatter on the ground. His empty glass follows a similar path and meets a much more brutal fate; it shatters against one of the stools and splays across the floor to your left. The door to the roof bangs open to interrupt the spell placed between your bodies.

“Oi! Quit trashing my fucking glasses unless you're planning on replacing every last fucking one of them!”

The door slams back shut so quickly that you don’t have the opportunity to respond in the slightest, and the shock it leaves with you makes a laugh rip from your lips. You duck your head to rest against Mingi’s shoulder, laughing under your breath as the adrenaline pumps your heart more and more.

“Good to know he’s still alive, I suppose,” Mingi jokes through a laugh of his own, just before you lift your head and reach for another kiss.

“Let’s break some more shit just to piss him off.” Said somewhat as a joke, and other parts a completely serious attempt to weasel your way under Hongjoong’s skin, Mingi ignores that in favor of pulling you away from the bar. His hands pull and tug at your thighs, a clear urging to get you to wrap your legs around his waist, and you give him what he desires so desperately in exchange for a kiss that’s full of teeth and saliva. 

Your hands never settle on any particular part of him for a second longer than needed — you want him in ways that are beyond simple desire, and your eagerness must be evident to some degree based on how Mingi nips at your lower lip. He’s not very gentle in the way he splays you over the pool table, and you narrowly miss the triangle of balls in the center as your head thuds against the surface. Mingi hoists your hips closer to the edge of the table without preamble. Just as you’re reaching down to wrap a hand around the back of his next, aiming for another kiss, Mingi ducks down between your legs. 

“Min—oh.” Your gut tightens and cuts your train of thought short. There’s pressure between your legs and against your sex, even through your pants, you can feel the efforts of his fingers at your clit. You swing an arm wildly around the table in search of something to ground yourself yet all you can hold onto is the border of the table. 

“Want me, angel?” His nails dig into your skin around the waistband of your pants. It’s enough to sting and burn, you tighten your grip on the table as though it’s Mingi you’re grabbing instead, and he lets out a low chuckle that reverberates through you. “Such a pretty little thing you are… letting me have my way with you.”

“I—” air hisses through your gritted teeth as Mingi begins to drag your pants down your legs at an agonizing pace “—I’ll take charge myself if you don’t speed things up a bit, angel.”

He’s laughing again as he stands upright, pants pulled down to your ankles, and he leans over your prone body to look you in the eye. When he speaks again, his breath is hot on your lips.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, y/n. I’m at your mercy whenever you want me to be.” He lowers his face to your neck, teeth snagging the fragile skin there and nipping hard enough to make your body tingle. “You can even have me on my knees if that’s what you want…”

“Mingi.” This time, rather than an attempt to spur him on, your tone begs him to slow down because the mere prospect of what he’s whispering into your skin has your head spiraling. Of course, now, he doesn’t wish to do that. He hooks two fingers around the crotch of your underwear, which in turn causes his knuckles to drag through your sopping folds and give you the slightest bit of stimulation. The weight of his body does nothing to keep you from jolting under him, a startled moan slipping out right against the shell of Mingi’s ear.

“Don’t you feel it, darling?” he murmurs against you as your panties are stripped from your body just as your pants were. “That rush of adrenaline — I’m still feeling the high of that fight and getting shot. Makes me wanna fuck you into oblivion even more than ever.”

“Some wou-would call that insanity, hun.”

“Hm? That I get turned on when it’s a close call?” His arm buckles when he tries to brace himself against the table, and your eyes flit over to the wrapped wound there nervously. Red peeks through the bandages again, yet he doesn’t seem to mind one bit. He notices your focus in an instant, though seems far less concerned than you are. He keeps that arm where it is as he reaches down to his pants and undoes them as best he can with one hand. There’s fairly little effort in that regard, however, because all he does is move them enough to pull his dick out. You barely get a glimpse at what all he’s doing before you feel him against your cunt, nudging between your folds. “Feels even better when I’m hurtin’, angel.”

Mingi rolls his hips forward, but he doesn’t enter you quite yet. His cock thrusts between your folds in a lewd imitation of the real thing. His focus shifts from watching the way his cock pushes against your clit to see your reactions unfold. You sling your arm forward and clench your fingers hard around his forearm.

“You want it to hurt or no?” Mingi asks through a grunt, hand pressed down over where his cock slides against you to form something of a pseudo-hole for him to fuck. 

“No prep, please, just — just go in.” His pace falters slightly at the permission, though the look in his eyes tells you that he wants nothing more than to do that right now. “And come inside, please~” A low blow, perhaps, but you know it’ll knock his evident concerns about your well-being away in full, and it does indeed spur him into action. 

“Grab my arm.”

“I am.”

“Not like that, darling.” Mingi reaches around with his used hand, wet with your arousal and his combined, and he grips your wrist until you let go of his forearm. You don’t realize what he’s wanting until he guides you up to his bicep and places your hand right over his injury. “Hurt me a bit, angel, you know I love it.” You tighten your hold around the bandage just a little. “Don’t be afraid to make me bleed.”

“Mingi,” you exhale, then he’s spreading his fingers around your neck. Your breath hitches in your throat.

“Do you trust me, y/n?”

“Of course.”

“Then hurt me,” he says before lining himself up with your entrance and pushing into you slowly and deliberately. The stretch burns something awful, and it draws a noise that’s more akin to a wail than a lust-filled moan out of you. Surely something your companion upstairs on the roof will overhear and wonder about, but he’s never interrupted beyond a certain point before and you’re confident he won’t now either. Regardless, the thought of Hongjoong is a dwindling one that doesn’t linger long because Mingi fills your senses to the brim, as well as you In the filthiest way you can describe. You’re hardly conscious of how hard you’re clinging to him, but the palm of your hand is wet against his arm, and he’s tensing in your grasp with each passing second. 

There’s something terribly exhilarating about it. You understand, for a moment, that rush of adrenaline he had mentioned not long ago. As your body stretches to form around his length, you find yourself wanting to mold him in similar ways. The pressure on your neck increases bit by bit; Mingi leans further over you and pushes his hand more into your throat. It’s far from safe but it hurts so good that your brain feels fogged already.

“Fuck,” you hear the word slip off Mingi’s tongue once he’s fully buried inside your tight heat, walls firm around his thick cock.

“Don’t make me wait long,” you say back, tone nothing but breathy thanks to the pressure restricting you. 

You had grown up hearing the notion that there is no violence in love, but there is in both infatuation and obsession. Perhaps you and Mingi are living proof of that, with how you exercise your affections onto each other in ways that would be considered sinister to others, but at the end of the day, you two are simply indulging in things that bring you both pleasure. 

Mingi heeds your words so carefully and doesn’t waste a second longer than he has to before he’s beginning to drive his cock in and out of your cunt. You cling to him all the same, only squeezing harder as the ache blooms into something more pleasurable than painful. You still taste citrus on your tongue, a lingering gift from his lips, and your brain hones in on that taste as it becomes harder to breathe under his palm. You’re far from light-headed, especially with how his grip rubs up and down your neck with the force of his thrusts. It will leave marks, perhaps your whole neck will be red as though you’d been scratching at it all night, but you revel in the fact that you will be leaving Mingi will a similar mark. A wound that’s nothing more than a graze across his skin will bloom into something that lasts longer and bothers him a bit more. Perhaps he will be back to you before it’s even healed.

“Mingi,” you moan, chin tipping back further. He’s quiet as always — though only in terms of actual words because his lewd noises don’t cease for a second, and he nearly has you beat with how many groans drip from his lips like sinful honey. You wish to drink it all up, take every noise from his tongue and swallow them with your own until there’s nothing left unshared between the two of you. 

It’s deeply carnal the way he fucks you like he’s clinging to a lifeline, and you feel the urgency in his movements from how his hips snap against your body to how heavy and frantic his breathing has become. Though, you’re no better than he, dancing to the same illicit tune.

Suddenly you can breathe easy again, and you gulp down the air that enters your mouth so greedily that you almost choke on it. Mingi’s hand drags from the column of your throat down your torso until he has his fingers settled against your cunt just above where his dick connects your bodies.

“Come on me, darling, fuckin’ cream all over my dick like you’re made to.” The way he rolls your clit between his fingertips is brutally stimulating. It fills you with such a white-hot pleasure that you’re forced to release his arm in favor of covering your mouth to keep your noises from resonating through the room further. Mingi snatches your arm away in a split second, making sure that all you’re able to accomplish is a quick smear of his blood across your face. He folds himself over your body just as the stimulation sends you over the edge you’re teetering at, and as you unfurl into an orgasm, Mingi is there to drag his tongue across your cheek and jawline. When your back curls off the pool table, he sneaks the hand that was just toying with your clit around your back and holds your body up to his.

The kiss he delivers to your lips is one that’s metallic and wet, but you greet his tongue with your own in a fit of eagerness to feel him further. He hoists you further up until you’re all but seated on his cock. The throb between your legs is still so intense that you don’t notice his dick twitching against your walls, nor do you feel the first spurts of come inside you, but you do notice when Mingi bites your tongue hard enough to make it bleed. You’re still writhing in his grasp when he stops thrusting up into your pussy, and you cling to his face like letting go is simply not an option. 

It hurts when your mouths finally separate because then you feel the throb of the bite on your tongue in full and taste the evidence of it in the back of your throat. 

“Satisfied, angel?”

Your breath intermingles with his, and he’s still chasing your mouth in the hopes of taking another kiss from you. There’s a grin tugging at the corners of your lips as you press your index finger to his chin.

“Not even close.”

He laughs.

“Good, because I’m hardly done with you yet.”

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this work belongs to caly / hongism (2023). do not copy, repost, or plagiarize in any way.

[constantcrisis19]

Found Family

Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN S/O

AN: So, I changed a bit about the reader and Ghost's backstory in Domestic Bliss, I went ahead and linked it just in case you might wanna go back and reread that to see the new lore. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy the newest installation to the Married series!

Word Count: 2,647

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“Evening.” Price said as he stepped into the lounge, giving the group of you a quick nod of acknowledgement on his way to the pot of fresh coffee that was sitting on the counter. He got scattered responses from the other four occupants of the room as he dug a chipped mug out of the cabinet and set it onto the counter before filling it all the way to the top with the bitter beverage.

He either wasn’t affected by the heat or was simply too impatient to wait for his drink to cool because he didn’t even hesitate before lifting the mug to his lips and taking a large gulp of what you were sure was scalding coffee while showing no signs of discomfort.

"I made some chicken carbonara for the boys if you wanted some, Captain." You mused with a grin, using the plate in your hand that you had just cleaned to gesture at the large pot of pasta that was currently sitting on the stove top.

You had started cooking on a whim earlier and Soap had wandered into the kitchen with Gaz, the two curious Sergeants immediately swarming you where you’d been standing at the stove and needling at you until you caved and admitted that you were making lunch and yes there was enough for them to have some as well.

Soap’s eyes lit up with delight as he leaned closer to the pot in order to get a better look and your eyes narrowed in suspicion as you watched him. You opened your mouth with the intent of thoroughly scolding the nosey Scot for practically shoving his face into the pasta you were preparing but, before you could even get a single word out, Gaz distracted you by pulling you into a one-armed hug.

“Soap–” You barked at the man, scowling at the side of Soap’s head when he ignored your warning in favor of carelessly dipping the tip of his finger into the sauce before popping the digit into his mouth, the Scot humming happily before pulling his finger out and going for seconds.

“Would you quit that? I swear you're worse than a toddler.” You snapped as you stubbornly pushed out of Gaz’s hold and aggressively grabbed Soap’s wrist in order to stop him from further contaminating the food, squeezing until you could feel the delicate bones grinding underneath your fingers and you saw Soap wince.

Guilt hit you like a boot to the gut once you noticed his discomfort and you immediately relaxed your tight grip so that your fingers were just loosely encircling his wrist before gently leading him away from the stove, insistently shooing the two troublemakers over to the table to wait until the food was done.

Ghost also found his way to the lounge at some point, the man as silent as his namesake as he approached you from behind and draped himself over your back, expertly ignoring the wolf whistles and jeering from the other two occupants in the room as he nuzzled his face into the side of your neck, pressing a soft kiss against your skin through the worn fabric of his balaclava.

“Hmm…” Price gave a thoughtful hum, the sound pulling you from your reminiscing and bringing you back to the present. “I suppose I can spare some time for grub… I’d be a fool to turn down your hospitality, Hornet.” Price gave a dry chuckle as he walked into the kitchen.

"Well there's plenty left. I made sure to make a lot because all of you are big boys." You laughed, watching Price as he sauntered over to a cupboard to retrieve a plate before moving over to the pot of bubbling pasta in order to serve himself a heaping pile.

Price nodded to himself at the compliment, the plate in his hand looking comically small in comparison to the sheer amount of carbonara that he’d managed to spoon onto it, before he walked to the table and sat down opposite Gaz, who was in the process of messily shoveling a forkful of noodles into his mouth. 

"I think you’ll like it, Captain. Simon’s on his third serving already, which is practically a ringing endorsement coming from him.” You snorted, shooting a smug look at Ghost as you gracelessly flopped down into the seat next to him with your own helping of food, your lovely husband not even bothering to lift his head from his plate as he used his free hand to eloquently brandish his middle finger.

“You don’t say? I have always suspected that Simon didn’t have a sense of taste.” Price stated, slightly amused, and you could tell that he was genuinely relaxed and in a good mood, which was rare for him.

"How dare you insinuate that he only likes my cooking because he can't taste it. You better sleep with one eye open tonight, Captain." You growled playfully as you brandished your fork at where Price was sitting across from you threateningly with a faux-insulted expression plastered on your face. “Right, darling?" You demanded in true theatrical fashion as you turned to level Ghost with an expectant stare, your arms crossed.

“Sure, dove.” Ghost answered dryly, his emotionless voice giving nothing away. Though, because you’ve known him for several decades, you knew exactly what to look for in order to tell whether or not he was enjoying himself. You knew how to look past the cold facade that he put up and saw the mirth sparkling in his dark eyes, the way the corners of his mouth curled into a barely-there smile, his body language much more honest about how he was feeling.

"Ha! See? Two against one, Captain… and I don't like your odds of seeing the next sunrise." You cackled openly, a wide grin spreading across your face when Soap and Gaz joined in, the Scot letting loose a bark of laughter that quickly turned into a coughing fit when he choked on the mouthful of food he’d been in the process of chewing like an idiot.

You glanced over at Ghost when the man dutifully pushed his full glass of water to the wheezing Sergeant, your eyes narrowing in disapproval before you smacked his bicep with the back of your hand in a wordless reprimand when you caught his mouth quirking up at corners in sadistic amusement as Soap hacked up a lung, because he was an asshole like that.

“Yeah, I’m shaking in my boots.” Price replied with a little shake of his head, his sarcastic tone slightly dampened by the genuine amusement in his voice.

"As you should be." You nodded firmly, taking a quick bite of your food and chewing thoughtfully before swallowing. "Have you seen Ghost and I in the field? We are an absolute unit. Aren't we, honey?" You declared before turning your attention back to Ghost, leveling him with a shit-eating grin.

“Affirmative.” Ghost agreed easily –like the absolute ass-kisser that he was with you– and you straightened up in your seat and leaned forward in order to press a sloppy kiss to the sharp line of his jaw, the man obediently tilting his head to give you more space to work with.

“It's time to move aside, Soap, I’m taking your spot as Ghost’s favorite. I've already got him agreeing to everything I say.” You crowed good-naturedly as you pulled away from Simon and fell back into your seat, pointing at Soap with a wolfish grin.

“Yeah right. Even if ye were the favorite, it's only ‘cuz he’s biased. Ah mean, it is his ring ye got on yer finger, ye numpty.” Soap scoffed with a roll of his eyes, the Scot taking a particularly vicious stab at the food on his plate, causing the tines of his fork to scrape over the ceramic unpleasantly.

“Aw, you sound pretty bitter about that, Soap. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you have a little crush on me.” You said with a shit-eating grin, the man in question taking his sweet ass time noisily slurping up a mouthful of noodles with a grunt of effort before lazily wiping his sauce coated chin with the back of his hand like a disgusting brute.

“Nah. Yer not mah type, love.” Soap scoffed with a dismissive wave of his hand and you raised a brow at him, placing an elbow onto the tabletop and slowly leaning forward over the table separating the two of you until Soap’s eyes flicked up from his rapidly emptying plate in favor of warily eyeing you as if you were a lit fuse.

“Is that so? Well, if it's Ghost you're into then I suppose I could lend him to you for a night... if I get to watch.” You whispered teasingly as you fluttered your eyelashes, watching with sadistic glee as Soap flushed a bright red and began to defensively stutter out panicked protests.

“Tryin’ to pimp me out, are we?” Ghost huffed as he kept his eyes down, his gaze stubbornly locked onto his newly refilled plate to avoid looking at anyone as he tucked into his fourth serving. How he managed to get up, get himself more pasta, and sit back down all without you noticing, you had no idea.

“It’s your fault for being so alluring, babydoll.” You purred salaciously as you sat back into your seat properly, turning to press a firm kiss to Ghost’s broad shoulder before blinking up at him as if you were an innocent angel that could do no wrong, knowing damn well that it never failed to soften the man up.

“Keep it PG, would you?” Price demanded, sounding mildly annoyed by the turn that the conversation had taken.

“Yes sir.” You said amicably as you turned away from Ghost, who had stopped eating in order to stare at you in that intense way that told you that he was imagining things that certainly weren’t appropriate to entertain during lunch with your colleagues, giving Price a half-assed salute that no doubt had him silently begging the Lord for the patience to deal with your antics.

“So, if you're disqualified from the competition on account of being married to Ghost, then we're back to square one aren't we?” Gaz asked lifting his hat up by the bill in order to scratch at his head before dutifully resettling it into place.

“Well, Ghost an’ ah have the best correspondence on comms.” Soap offered after a moment of silence, the Scot radiating a smug air that was –in your opinion– totally unfounded as he pushed his plate aside, placing his full focus onto the debate at hand.

“You call what you two cunts do over comms professional? I’d classify it as softcore porn.” Gaz blurted out with an incredulous laugh, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek until you tasted iron in order to avoid grinning like a loon when Soap’s previously self-satisfied expression was ruthlessly wiped from his face and replaced by a petulant pout.

“It still counts as proof of our unbreakable bond–” Soap began to argue adamantly, that telltale determined glint lighting up his eyes –the one that usually only reared its ugly head when the Scot was about to disobey orders and pull something crazy– and you decided to butt in and do some damage control before Soap could get too worked up.

“Now, now, boys. Let's not get too hasty, Simon can easily settle this debate for us." You interrupted Soap mid-rant and the three of you all simultaneously turned to stare at Ghost expectantly, who was scraping up the last of the sauce and noodles from his plate with his fork. "So, Ghost, who do you like being in the field with the most?" You asked, your narrowed stare looking into his uncannily blank eyes in a searching manner.

Ghost didn’t hesitate for a moment. 

“You.” He replied in a flat, matter-of-fact tone and you saw Price raise an eyebrow in your peripheral vision, Soap and Gaz looking similarly stunned by the declaration.

"Hear that, losers? I'm the unequivocal favorite." You gloated as you laced your hands together behind your head and leaned back in your chair, all but preening as you smiled triumphantly at winning a competition you weren’t even technically a candidate for, at least according to Soap and Gaz.

“We just established tha’ ye weren't even allowed tae be a fuckin’ contender. It's no’ mah fault Ghost 's a shit listener.” Soap complained as he picked up his plate, sullenly pushing away from the table and bringing his dishware to the stove in order to refill it, the aggressive way he was moving telling you all you needed to know about how he was taking the loss.

“You're just mad cause he didn't pick you.” You needled at him just to be an ass, sticking your tongue out at the Scot when he flicked you off without even bothering to turn away from the pot he was digging into with the pasta spoon.

“Don’t let it go to your head.” Price told you in a mock serious tone, his mustache twitching in a way that signaled that he was trying to suppress a smile before he continued. “Don’t want you getting an ego so large that it takes two birds to carry it.”

"Are you kidding me!? Captain, look at him!" You spluttered incredulously, flailing an arm at Ghost, who looked utterly unbothered by the chaos that his answer had stirred. "You expect my ego not to go through the roof when a big, scary, skull-obsessed tank says that I'm his favorite teammate? I’m practically untouchable."

“So much for maintaining a sense of humility.” Gaz muttered under his breath with an exasperated shake of his head.

“Don’t get too excited. You’re still insufferable, you’re just less annoying than the others.” Ghost stated before you could reply to Gaz’s comment, causing you to shut your mouth with a click as you contemplated whether or not you were going to take offense to Ghost’s apathetic correction.

"I'll take it." You said with a decisive nod, giving Soap's arm an affectionate pat when he passed by, the Scot knocking his foot into yours under the table when he sat down to let you know that there was no bad blood between the two of you and you looked down at your wrist in order to check the time on your watch on a whim, your eyes widening when you saw how late it was.

"Ah, shit. I gotta go train the new recruits on gun safety at the range." You blurted as you rounded the table, heading for the exit to the dining room and kitchen before you paused and looked back at the four men who were seated at the table in a beseeching manner.

"Could one of you guys put whatever's leftover into the fridge when you boys are done eating?" You asked, your expression hopeful as you stared at them, waiting for one of them to volunteer themselves for the task.

“Yeah. I can do it.” Price replied with a quick nod before grabbing his empty plate and pushing to his feet. He moved to the kitchen and grabbed one of the serving bowls, a small smile on his face. It was a small task, but Price seemed perfectly content with doing it.

"I really appreciate it, Price. I'll cook you a nice breakfast tomorrow as a thank you!" You promised as you walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway, giving the four men one last parting wave before starting down the corridor.

"Alright. Who's washing the dishes?" He quipped dryly as he looked at the other three that were still in the room with him and, unsurprisingly, no one seemed particularly enthusiastic about the prospect.

[twyftwyt]

this is going to be a long one, so prepare yourselves, cause I need to get some stuff off my chest

All that’s wrong in the BO fandom and with BO themselves:

1. Proper media training - I think none of the boys in the band, aside from Noah, have proper media training and it shows in interviews. I feel like, with them growing so big over the last year, they need to take some proper time and do that, so we can save each other the little awkward moments where interviewers ask weird questions or make even weirder statements and the guys just sit there looking a little lost.

2. Their crew needs to chill (at times) - Now I understand that every fandom has got their crazies, it’s a part of the lore, but come on! I’ve seen not once or twice, crew members being mean towards the fandom, calling us dumb and whatnot. If I see something I don’t like or find weird/stupid/pointless/delusional, I might share it with my friends, but I won’t go around posting about it on my story/twitter. There are people in this fandom that go overboard and need to be shown the door, but when you show disrespect to one, you show disrespect to all and that, I feel, needs to be stated somewhere. Matt is unnecessarily mean sometimes and so are Steven and other crew members. I feel like if I were in their position, I’d probably want to call out people on their shit too, but no need to do it ALL THE TIME.

3. The band is too closed off - And don’t get me wrong here, I understand and respect boundaries, but it sounds and feels a little contradictory when the lead singer of the band says in an interview that he feels closer to some of the artists he listens to, because he’s read their life story. The irony in that is massive. When you deny fans of little things like posts here and there, sharing a little something personal (example: Dove Cameron, Halsey, Thirty Seconds to Mars are all artists that make and write their own music and I’ve heard at least one story from each of them on how a personal event inspired said song). So when you deny fans of little things like that, you get obsessive people who try ro dig up your personal life, just to feel a bit more connected to your music. Everything can be regulated, I feel, if done and said right.

4. They all (the band and crew) need to collectively accept the fact that the band’s becoming massive, which means that they will attract all kinds of fans. Fans that will be there only for Noah. Fans that will be there only for TikTok hits like “Just Pretend” and whatnot. And they’d benefit so much more from those people if they just knew how to use everything to their advantage. Now one little comment from the crew sets the whole fandom ablaze. They’re not a small town band supporting bigger acts on tour anymore.

ok, I’ll stop yapping now and remember, this is just my opinion, you don’t have to agree with it and you also don’t have to argue with me on it ✌🏻

[lunarfied]

07. WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP ME ? ; left on read

scaramouche x gn! reader smau

y/n pov;

you put your phone down with a frustrated sigh, feeling hot tears well up behind your closed eyelids. nothing made sense anymore. why was ajax and venti sitting with kuni? you didn’t even let any of them explain because seeing him there just set something off inside of you. so many past memories with him, good and bad, flooded your mind as soon as you saw him and you just had to get out of there.

a hand found it’s way onto your shoulder, pulling you away from the internal hate directed towards kuni. “i know you said you didn’t want to talk about it, but are you sure you’re okay, y/n?” tighnari asked quietly.

as soon as you left the restaurant, you sought out someone who you knew wouldn’t ask questions and let you in their space without a second thought. and that friend was tighnari. underneath his sarcastic exterior, he cared dearly for all his loved ones, so it was no surprise that he immediately welcomed you in with open arms seeing your solemn frustration. cyno, tighnari’s boyfriend, and collei, tighnari’s younger sister, were there as well. cyno because he lived with tighnari in their apartment off campus and collei because she liked visiting her brother as often as her schedule allowed her to.

allowing yourself a bit of comfort, you leaned your head onto tighnari’s shoulder to which he wrapped his arms around you and started rubbing circles into your back, soon followed by cyno and collei huddling around you to join in the embrace (which was surprising because cyno hated physical contact with people he wasn’t close with). the soothing touches and words from your friends was enough to make a couple tears fall down your cheeks.

“fuck, i didn’t want to start crying about this.” you said with a slight laugh at your own predicament.

tighnari looked down on you with eyes full of concern despite the warm smile plastered on his face. “it’s okay to let your emotions out, you know.”

collei had moved from the group hug to type something on her phone while cyno lingered near the two of you. “yeah, but still.” you sighed, wiping your tears with the back of your sleeve.

”i’m sorry, i’m just upset because i saw my ex.” you admitted, though when saying it out loud, you felt a little embarrassed.

”you don’t have to apologize-“ tighnari started before cyno cut him off.

”i’d be upset if i saw my ex too.”

”you don’t have an ex?” tighnari raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend’s attempt to cheer you up. cyno rolled his eyes with a slight smirk, nudging his foot into tighnari’s side. 

“i ordered us some food!” collei chimes in, draping her arms across your shoulders as she leaned on your back. “so let’s forget about your ex! we can watch some movies or play some games and eat.” she suggested, smile never fading. it warmed your heart that they were caring for you this much, you didn’t think you deserved it since you just barged in on their hangout.

”okay, that sounds like fun.” you nodded in agreement despite the internal debate as tighnari and cyno got up to set up the tv while collei opened a nearby closet and pulled out blankets and pillows.

”we should play sonic adventure two.” cyno said to tighnari which got him a snort in response.

”why? so you can explain the sonic lore to all of us?” tighnari joked.

”yes.” cyno stated, you could tell he was beaming at the idea of showcasing all his knowledge on the series by the way he was inching closer into tighnari’s personal bubble. cyno was never good at expressing himself but you’ve sat through countless amounts of tighnari explaining cyno’s body language to you. you were just that good of a friend.

as tighnari and cyno set up the gamecube and talked amongst themselves, collei snuggled up on your left side and offered you a small plush for comfort. “why did you see your ex? like you visited them or?” she asked innocently, collei always reminded you of a younger sibling even despite the two of you not being related at all.

”well,” you started, unsure of whether or not you wanted to admit your outburst at the mere sight of seeing him. “i was supposed to meet up with my two friends to meet our new roommate, since the three of us dorm together and we needed a fourth since the old one moved out. but then he was sitting there with them — and — i don’t know — i kinda flipped out?” you sighed, leaning the side of your head on top of her own while squeezing the plush closely to your chest.

”ah, i see,” collei started, linking your arms together with a sigh, “that sucks. i can’t imagine how you’re feeling.”

”like shit. ugh, i have to text them back.” you looked over at your phone casted off to the side. “fuck! he even texted me, you know?”

collei looked up with a raised eyebrow, “wow, that’s kinda shitty? after ruining your evening he even texts you…” she scoffs and cyno rejoins you two on the couch while tighnari heads downstairs to get the food.

”he sounds like a bitch. bet i can take him in a fight.” cyno sat by the armrest so tighnari can settle between the two of you. you laughed at his joke (although he meant it) and shook your head.

”id love to see that actually.” you bit the inside of your cheek, “but as much as i hate him for breaking my heart… i was kinda relieved to see him?”

“y/n, you lummox.” you heard tighnari start to scold you from behind as he came back with the food. you daren’t turn and look him in the eyes because you could already tell he was standing with the food in one hand and the other placed on his hip. “don’t you dare tell me you’re missing him after he, might i remind you my dear, broke up with you a week before your birthday?” you heard cyno and collei gasp, forgetting they didn’t know that about kuni.

”oh my gods???” collei’s hand was over her mouth.

”yeah, so, about me fighting him…” cyno mutters under his breath, crossing his arms over his chest.

“guys…” you whined, covering your face with your hands. “i don’t want to talk about this anymore, ugh, cyno why don’t you talk about your sonic fursona?” you decided to change the subject away from you as soon as possible so that you could collect your thoughts.

cyno’s eyes lit up and he sat up almost like a puppy dog seeing treats for the first time.

“i thought you guys would never ask me to.”

masterlist | prev - next

playlist !

A/N: btw sonic adventure 2 best sonic game out there don’t even argue with me i’m right 🤞 sorry this chapter is late (it's not i dont have a scedule for this) uhm im currently dying (not actually but ive been in bed all day) anyways since i couldn't sleep last night at all i started thinking about making another smau for scara what do u guys think.....

TAGLIST [CLOSED]: @machiroll @raideneiari @mariusvonhangme @inlustris-is-slowly-dying @sakiimeo @ferumie @plinkuro @scaraapologist @baelloraa @bubblesmei @lovelyiez @isa-solasun @lazy-sanns @thenightsflower @divinechicha @rxd-iant @elysiasgf @cerisearan @alwaysmentallyill @kaoyamamegami @richxelle @monochromaticelliot @kunikuzushiit @thedumboneforsomereason @lordbugs @osamusswife @useless-potatho @tsuyumbrella @orionicchaos @lxry-chxn @twistedrxses @akagism2 @kxr0mi @angryhope @ivylibrary-00 @makilovescofi @mechanicalbeat1 @erosdevil @ghostsaysno @anotherdayanotherobsession @garlicforthewin

[trans-luis-serra-navarro]

hii!! i have a question

i redownloaded re4r and i was walking around luis' house again, and it got me thinking about something.

how sure are we that it actually is his childhood home?

whoever lived there was a fisherman, because there are nets and other stuff all over the place and it's right by the lake.

but his grandfather was a hunter, not a fisherman, right? and wouldn't it make more sense for him to live by the woods then?

besides, everything that belongs to luis looks kind of out of place there. like he was maybe carrying it around until he decided to settle there (like it was just an abandoned house, and he needed to stay/hide somewhere?)

AND didn't his childhood house burn down? like, i was imagining it to be destroyed, but that house doesn't look that damaged, just very old and decayed

it's just a genuine question because i confused myself and now i can't stop thinking about it haha 😭

HIHI!!! I saw your ask on my main and meant to respond earlier, but to answer your questions we actually have a TON of information confirming that this is Luis’ childhood home!!!

So the first and most obvious is that photo of baby Luis and his Grandfather sitting on the table. When you flip the photo around it reads, ‘Navarro Family, 1981, which we know for certain now that Navarro is Luis’ last name- unfortunately I couldn’t find a solid photo of the back but we all know what the front looks like I think BXNDHENDJXK

And the SECOND most obvious is the diary entries talking about how much the ‘boy’ loves Don Quixote and could one day be a scholar from his Grandfather (Again I’m so sorry these images are so crusty, I’ll put descriptions on them to help BCNSHSNSJ) and I think it’d be a LITTLE weird to have a photo and diary of a random persons family that aren’t yours sitting in your house HXNSHEND

But if you want to get into the absolute NITTY-GRITTY of it all, there are a TON of random little details that confirm that this is supposed to be Luis’ childhood home. @geddy-leesbian has done an INSANELY INCREDIBLE job getting photos of a BUNCH of tiny details you would never otherwise be able to notice in these series of posts I’d REALLY REALLY REALLY recommend checking out HOWEVER!! The most interesting ones are these ((all photo credits go to @geddy-leesbian !!!!!))

The shoes and jackets(?) in the basement that’re identicle to the ones Luis and his Grandfather wear/wore- ofc these could be just random assets Capcom had on hand but sssshhh- and in terms of Luis’ Grandfather being a hunter, there’s a pretty massive deer skull chilling on the wall, but ‘hunter’ could also just encapsulate killing ANY animals, not just deer n stuff, as well as a guitar that could hint to Luis’ dancing prowess (slayyyy)

((Again credit to Geddy-Leesbian for the photo!!!)) There’s also ofc all those little bottles of medicine and alchemy boxes on the table that Luis realistically would’ve taken with him when trying to hide!!

And as for the house NOT being ‘burnt to ashes’,,,, yeah that one’s weird HCNEHENDJ there’s a chance that whoever wrote in-universe that was just exaggerating in the moment out of shock, but Luis’ house being moooooooore or less intact with super minimal burn marks is honestly a bit of a mystery!!! Like sure maybe Luis or somebody rebuilt it but it’s still super interesting!!!!!!

But the most basic and truest answer is that,,, it just makes sense lore-wise. It makes sense for the place Luis wanted to hide in being his childhood home, it makes thematic sense that he’d be tied up in the basement there, it makes sense that that’s where he would’ve grown up etc etc- which I know is kind of a bleh answer but it’s the truest one HXNEHENDJDN!!!

[ihatehugo]

hey!!! if you enjoy varian and the seven kingdoms please stop scrolling for just a moment!!!!

so i know there are multiple fanfiction creators who have written their own versions of vat7k and i love and have read each and every one of them

i decided i wanted to join in on the fun and so i’ve been working on my own version of vat7k for over a year now

i’ve split it into three books plus a prequel and a sequel. each book (minus the prequel & sequal) have 22 chapters each. the prequel & sequel will have around 1-10 chapters (it depends on how long the written portion is)

i wanted to make my series have a similar vibe to an actual tv show so the chapters will be posted as if they are episodes. for example, one chapter will be lore based and another will be similar to a filler episode.

sadly, i’m still working on it and it probably won’t be done anytime soon but i do have a decent portion of it created. i have an idea for what to put into each chapter and am working on the details of each chapter. i’ve also written a few snippets here and there and here’s one from the prequel, After Ever After:

Varian’s pacing. He knows he’s pacing but by the Sun, he’s angry. For years, he’s wanted to know more about his mother. For years, he’s begged to hear stories about her. For years, he’s lived off of the small scraps that his father gave to him, only to learn that he has been keeping a key component about his mother from him.

His mother’s journal sits before him on Xavier’s table, a deep forest green with a symbol engraved upon it. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say it's mocking him. Just when he made peace with the fact that nothing will ever change in Corona, this journal pops into existence as a big “fuck you!” to Varian’s mental wellbeing.

Xavier has been watching him patiently, having already picked his way through the journal. Varian stubbornly refuses to be the one to speak first but Xavier is just staring at him, his eyes following the path Varian is making into his floor.

Varian doesn’t speak for several more seconds before he demands: “So? What does it mean? What are the Seven Trials and why was my mom so obsessed with it?”

“Ah, yes, the Seven Trials,” Xavier enunciates. He rubs his chin as a faraway look passes over his face. “It is an old tale but one worth revisiting.”

“Oh, would you quit it?” Varian snaps. He stops pacing and stands across from Xavier, arms crossed and his foot tapping the ground repeatedly. “I really don’t want a long winded explanation right now.”

Xavier chuckles. “Very well. I will keep my story short. The Seven Trials were a test made long ago by Demanitus himself.”

Varian’s foot falls with a final thump. “Demanitus? My mom followed his studies too?”

“It would seem so.” Xavier gently picks up the journal and flicks through the pages. He stops about midway through the book and turns it for Varian to see. “And it also seems like she got very close to her goal.”

The entry on the page is annoyingly vague. The main phrases he gets from it are words he’s already read when he skimmed through it earlier. “The Eternal Library” particularly stands out to him. He could have sworn he heard it somewhere before.

When he rereads the paragraph, though, he puts together pieces that he had taken for granted before. Most of it doesn’t make any sense because she’s using key words only she obviously knows but Varian gets the gist of it. She completed all of the trials and found the location of the Eternal Library.

that’s all i have for that right now

if you have any questions, feel free to ask

and if you have suggestions, i’d be happy to hear them! i can’t promise any of them will make the cut but if they do, i’ll make sure to credit whoever’s idea it originally was

thank you for reading! if any of you are interested i might be able to post more snippets of it

[bringthekaos]

one of my personal favourite Jayce and Viktor scenes are when they’re showing off the Atlas Gauntlets and Hexclaw to Heimerdinger. It’s got a certain amount of catharsis to it, hearing them talk about mining efficiency and artificers when we all know they’re both going to be exclusively used as weapons (I like to imagine the writers sitting around a white board trying to figure out a peaceful reason why someone would invent a death laser). And also because, I noticed that a lot of Viktor’s story telling and foreshadowing is explicitly done a lot more physically then almost any other character, and the way the Hexclaw was show when he was using it is just *chefs kiss*, and I’d imagine that if you were going into the show well aware of lol lore and were expecting him to be way more evil, it would have been a bit more tense, almost akin to the “at last, my arm is complete again” scene from Sweeney Todd.

Yesssss! See, I went into it totally blind, didn’t know anything about lol lore at the time. And even then I could sense that they were trying to foreshadow something, especially with that one shot of him looking a little manic as he says “Hextech that evolves.”

And then I got obsessed and went down the Machine Herald rabbit hole, learning anything and everything I could about him, and then on second watch I was like oooooohhhhhhh. It’s everywhere. The way the Hexclaw is positioned over his left shoulder in that scene, the way they cut from Viktor to Sevika throwing down these cards.

And even in more subtle clues, like the scene where he disarms Jinx’s bomb—at first he was precise and careful, making no mistakes as he showed it to Mel. But then Jayce said something that angered him, and he let his emotions get in the way of his precision, and that anger caused him rip away a portion of the bomb without care, thereby setting it off.

But yeah, the scene where he and Jayce show Heimer the Hexclaw and Atlas Gauntlets is definitely the most saturated. You know it actually got me thinking about Christian Linke’s comment about champions not having plot armor, and that they’re not immune to dying… what if Viktor ends up killing Heimerdinger? With the Hexclaw, in a similar fashion to how the camera angle initially made it look like Viktor had fired at him.

Oooof. Like… I don’t particularly like Heimerdinger, but the thought of Viktor killing him, a pinnacle of Piltover society and one of its founders? They will despise you, indeed.

Just can’t wait for all of this intricate foreshadowing they’ve done to come to fruition. It’s going to hurt so good.

[bcolfanfic]

Okay I just read that little daddy!gale drabble thingy and ,,,, it just really fits in my mind. If you have any more thoughts to share abt that then i’d be happy to read them

previous previous previous

i first must confess that my frame of reference for age regression pre the modern age is elvis presley lore. which i will. leave there lmfao. but that to say it has always been a Thing. even when people didn’t necessarily have words for it.

but. re the bucks. i think it starting for john in the stalag has a way of making it consistently a I Am Having A Rough Time thing. doesn’t go anywhere near it for a long while after because it’s so tied to those memories.

but one day post-war when him and gale are at their house in the country they’re ‘fixing’ where people don’t ask questions bucky kinda all quiet asks gale if he remembers the little animals he whittled for him in the stalag. and. of course gale remembers. gale also knows john enough to see it all over his face why he’s asking this kinda outta nowhere.

he doesn’t wanna push him and john doesn’t really say much else before he wanders off to go hole up in their room. but next time gale is out in the yard working he finds some scraps of wood to make those little animals again. has more time now, and his mind is less jumbled than it was in the stalag so he can make them a little more detailed. carves a g+j on the underside of one, just because he’s feeling sentimental <3

and still doesn’t wanna push john too hard on the whole thing so he just leaves them on the nightstand of his side of the bed. john naps a lot when he’s not feeling great and gale very gently sits on the edge of their bed for a minute to watch him sleep before he steps back out, stroking his hair a little. pressing a kiss to that sweet forehead.

john sees the little animals the second he wakes up and is so touched he could cry. just lays in bed half asleep looking at them for a little bit, brain kinda going just. fuzzy mode. i think the age regression thing is never a 100% thing for him in that he’s always at least a somewhat cognizant of reality. things just get. blurry and in a way that makes him feel content, not scared.

comes out of their room after some time and finds gale sitting in the living room reading. john lingers in the entry to the living room, rocking on his heels rubbing over one of his animals with his thumb before gale finally gestures him over and he goes.

feels so content and safe in gale’s lap, gale asking if he likes his animals and john nodding all shy leaning his head back into him.

i think it takes. a bit post war for john to get comfortable enough to call him daddy again like he did in the stalag. almost feels kinda silly now that things aren’t so dire. but it happens when it happens and it hits him like a bus how comforting it still is.

and gale of course, loves it too. loves being needed in that way. ❤️❤️❤️

[somberjoon]

METANOIA [9]

✩ pairing: wolf hybrid nj x cheetah hybrid reader (f) - eventual ot7 x reader

✩ genre: soul-searching , romance🔞 , found-family , healing , angst , happy ending

✩ word count: 5.2k

✩ chapter warnings: uncertainty in behavior and emotions , anxiety , crying and loss of a grasp on what to do , some Y/N lore in this one with abandonment themes.

✩ summary: She doesn't know. There is so much about her and her cheetah that she hasn't had the privilege to understand. Unknown backgrounds and unknown emotions clash with feelings of want- hopes of being herself unapologetically. Namjoon seems to be someone that can help her- but can the rest of his pack truly be what she has wanted and needed?

✩ cover: me

ch.1 , ch.2 , ch.3 , ch.4 , ch.5 , ch.6 , ch.7 , ch.8 , ch.9 , ch.10

Y/N

She knew it wasn't going to be easy, but sitting in this office with Mila and Namjoon having a 'stare-off' is far more awkward than anything she's experienced or hoped for. They both were thinking- more-so Mila than Namjoon- but now she doesn't know who's going to break the silence first. Four minutes is too long when you're counting the seconds. 

"Maybe I can give my verbal consent?" Y/N tries to lighten the situation. 

"It isn't about verbal consent or whether or not I think it's best for you. Namjoon, you jumped into this process without even considering what I had set up for her." Mila counters.

"I know my priorities. Safety for someone I care about." Namjoon then counters her.

"This is not a conversation you should even be here for, you are not her legal guardian or pack, nor are you going to say 'yet' and act like it means anything." 

They bounce off of each other, Namjoon trying his best to act like he has the upper hand. In all fairness, he was just anxious about Mila saying no, and wanted to get a jump on things to show he was serious about this. 

“If I could?” Y/N tries again with hesitance. Maria gives her a sighing nod. “I wanted him to come with me. I didn’t want to be alone, not after everything. I’m sorry I didn’t let you know first, but I want this home to be my first choice if we could prioritize it. If it means that I no longer have the organization behind me…”

“You’ll still be under the organization Y/N, it’s not a simple chosen rehoming that changes your qualifications to be under the organization. Yes, our main priority is rehoming and making sure hybrids are in safe environments- but we provide so much that you would still need the connections for. You don’t have to worry about that. However, because their home is not one that is directly under our own lists and the pack members aren’t all background checked, it makes it harder for you if this is something that won’t work out. You won’t technically qualify for the rehoming part any longer if you go through with this- as the organization has proof that you can find a stable home or roof over your head on your own accord. It’s a messy thing that I personally hate, but it’s in the contract.” Mila informs. 

“When will she need to decide by?” Namjoon asks, leaving no time for Y/N to process what she said. 

“I can give you candidates that are willing and information on our shelter, just to see what your options are. I’m sorry to say that it is a short list. But, I’d rather you go over all your options, just so you know you have them and don’t feel pressured. Final decisions should be made within the next couple of days. Legal matters are far easier when you have an address and contact information, so as soon as possible is best.” 

-

Processing everything in silence feels wrong. Usually she prefers that, most of the time she prefers it. But, as Namjoon drives back to the pack home with Y/N in the passenger seat- the silence feels infuriating. 

"Can we talk about this?" The question comes out a bit more hostile than necessary, grabbing Namjoon's attention immediately. She's irritated more than normal- an emotion she doesn’t often feel, especially with her wanting to make the new chance at life worth something.

"Yes, of course. I just didn't want to make you feel like you had to take my thoughts into consideration. What's best is that you create your own conclusion with your wants and needs considered above all." 

Why is it so irritating? Everything feels like a choice that could lead to her demise. Everything feels raw and bleeding and her own decisions have been the ones to fuck her over even more. Yes, she didn’t put herself into this situation by choice- but, it's still all her. She hates being in control when she's exhausted and irritated and fucking sad. 

"I'm too tired to think on my own right now." She admits, her voice softening only a little. 

"You can rest as long as you'd like when we get to the house, only Seokjin is there so no one will bother you." 

"I don't want to sleep, Namjoon. I'm tired of everything. I'm tired of feeling like a burden in every space I'm given. I'm tired of feeling unwanted. I'm tired of not being fought for. Everyone tip-toes around me like I'm a fucking child. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to live life and make mistakes and bounce back to lift myself up. I'm tired of having to figure it out all at once, instead of it being one step at a time. I just want-" She cuts herself off, not wanting to admit how fucking badly she just wants to live with him and be safe and cared for. 

Maria was so kind, so caring and loving towards her- she was waiting for someone that she could be there for. But, then she got Y/N. A fuck up that doesn't know anything. She knew she'd make mistakes, but this is far too much for anyone to handle. No wonder no one wants to take her in. Namjoon probably submitted those reports of his volunteer time and that could just add to the resentment people have for her. Namjoon invited her to stay, and even his pack voted for it, but it still feels like something she has to decide. It doesn't feel like he's fighting for her, more so suggesting that she put his consideration at the top of her list. Like the perfect hybrid he is- he's thinking of her feelings first.

"Go ahead, say what you want." Namjoon pushes with gentleness. Even that seems to push her farther over. 

"I was only 8 when I started living on my own. Even then, I don't remember any parents or a lab or fucking anything. Everyone I've told or asked has assumed it was an orphanage that I left. Only I didn't leave it. I wouldn't leave a safe place like that so young. I went to sleep one night and woke up in the middle of fucking nowhere- I raised myself Namjoon. For 17 years, I was in and out of shelters and in and out of towns for my own safety. I don't remember anyone telling me what I needed to do. Ever. I never had a mom or a dad or a guardian to teach me. I figured everything out on my own. Nobody cares to even acknowledge you when you're dirty and smelly and skittish. I just want an answer. I want a fucking step by step instruction like a child gets when they're learning to ride a bike or make a sandwich. I don't want to decide anymore. I'm tired of trying to figure out what's best for me. Why can't someone else figure out what's best for me?" 

Her tears fall with no indication, no break in her voice or lull of her breath. 

"I want- I want a mom right now." 

Namjoon pulls over onto the side of the street and turns on his hazards. He takes out his own phone without a word and finds whatever he's looking for just to shove the phone into her line of sight. 

'Maria Caddel'

"I can't talk to her." Y/N mumbles.

"She cares about you. She knows you and she wants the best for you- just like a mother would. You are both in similar positions, I know she's been beating herself up about not being able to help you. You could help each other. She gets to know you're safe, and you get to ask for advice- from a mom." 

She feels awful. Maria was really so much of what she was looking for and now- she has nothing, again. 

Please ask her. I can help you, but please try.

It's a voice in her head that seems far more level-headed than she has been these last two days. They're right, though. She needs to try

She grabs the phone from Namjoon's hand, pressing the green call button before she can even think twice, and puts the warm device up to her ear. Her tears already streak the screen. 

"Hi sweetie, how is she?" Maria picks up almost immediately. Y/N doesn’t even breathe, she's scared and shocked to find Maria asks about her first. 

"Hello? Namjoon?"

Hearing her voice, how tired she sounds, breaks her heart. She has no idea what all she's been through during the process of packing the small amount of Y/N's things. A sob pulls from her before she can stop it, her lungs craving the pull of oxygen. 

"Oh, darling is that you? Oh I'm so sorry. What's wrong? Do you need help?" Maria's voice immediately turns soft and worrisome when she hears Y/N. 

"Mm-hm." A whining hum of a 'yes' is all Y/N can get out. 

"You need help? What do you need, angel?" 

Only after a few shaky breaths is Y/N able to get a response out, and even then it's barely an audible response. 

"What do I do?" She already knows she looks like a mess, still bruised and cut and bawling her eyes out in Namjoon's passenger seat- but somehow she still feels shame, picking at the band on the bottom of Namjoon's borrowed hoodie. She calms herself by feeling the texture, pushing on with a more understood tone.

"I don't know what to do. I said yes to Namjoon, but what if that doesn't work out? The organization-"

"I know darling," she starts with a tone that shows composure. She's showing that she's here for Y/N- strong and teaching. "They told me what would happen. Do you trust Namjoon?"

Y/N wasn't expecting her to ask that. If anything, she thought she'd ask how she felt about it all- a draining question she would've just sobbed more at the sound of.

"I do." She doesn't even have to think about it anymore. 

"I do too. I think he'd keep you safe, even if somehow it didn't work out. I think you should go with him. I will always give you a second option. I will help you pay for whatever you need in a place that you could start out in if necessary. But you have a great chance to live life with others first. You should give it a try. Mess up, manage relationships, and just try. Okay?"

It feels like a heavy cement block that sat on her chest is slowly lifting. Even her limbs feel lighter. But best of all, her heart aches just a little less. 

"Okay."

"Don't let anything that has weighed you down be the deciding factor in how you live. You have a chance, an amazing chance with a safe pack. Live, Y/N."

"I will try."

"Always try."

-

Y/N was really bummed to hear Namjoon suggest that she ‘think her decision over’ for the night instead of driving her back to the organization the same day. She had a lot of pent up adrenaline from being so terrified, and that just made her want to go in as soon as possible to finalize her choice. 

“I really just want you to have a night in the house. A sleeping night where you can see our routine so that you can be sure you feel safe there.”

By the time they are to his pack home, she realizes how thankful she is that he suggested she wait. As she is now extremely exhausted and it’s truly helping to dull the anxiety she feels being her to see the whole pack. She still needs to tell Namjoon. This would be the perfect time- before they finalize anything. Without her immediate response, Namjoon assumes otherwise.

“I can still take you back for the last night with th-”

“No. I don’t want to go back there.” She says firmly, coming out with little authority. "They know that I'm coming tonight?" 

"Jin-hyung already made sure one of the guest rooms were made up and cooked you a dinner to have separately if you'd like. He's very excited to hear your opinion on them." He gives her a cheeky smile that she can barely return, but it's with honesty. She has just realized how much she missed the fox. "The only thing that might be surprising is Taehyung has preferred being in his cheetah form since we didn't allow him to bombard you, so if he's still deciding upon seeing you again in his cheetah form- just let us know if you're uncomfortable." 

"A-and the others? Are they truly okay with me being here?"

"They want you to be safe, just as I do. They don't mind at all, Y/N." 

"This is a lot scarier than I thought it'd be." She huffs a small laugh, looking at the house that houses a group of guys that have yet to see her in her state now. "Would it- be weird? If I just let you know a small detail, before we go in? About what happened."

"Not at all, I'll take it however you'd like me to."

Y/N thinks about what specific pieces she wants to give up just before going inside of a place full of men- a safe place, but with men nonetheless.

"I only trust you to touch me in any way at the moment. I want to warm up to Taehyung, and I don't want hugs right now. Nothing constrained."

"Of course. I can text them right now, if you'd like. Or we can play by ear. They know not to touch you without your permission- they would never. But, all the mushy cats love it in ranging ways so- up to you." He informs her.

"Text, please. I just don't want to make it about me once I'm in there. Eating separately for now is fine as well." 

Namjoon looks at her, not her scars or bruises, but into her eyes for a little too long. She wishes she knew what he thought, why his gaze is so soft when it lands on her.

"Okay." He finally says. 

The house is so warm. Even the energy inside of it is a welcoming blanket of hope. There's a light thumping of bass and music that can be heard from one of the rooms Namjoon pointed out being a gym. An amazing scent of food and some type of candle or sprayed scent lingers underneath. The warmth seems to be the only hold she wants to have around her forever. 

"Do you want to say hi to Seokjin-hyung?" Namjoon quietly asks, again taking the time to set her last used slippers in front of her feet. 

"Yes, I don't want to be mean." She gives him a smile that he catches onto immediately, giving her a knowing one back. She really did miss the fox, and she was sad to not see him when he visited the hospital with Namjoon. 

"The sweet cub is back." Seokjin points out with a pretty smile. Y/N can't help but give him one right back. Seokjin is typing away at a computer, doing something Y/N can’t see from the doorway. Again, Namjoon is right behind her giving her the confidence she needs. A gentle, warm hand is placed on her shoulder to encourage her to keep up the conversation. 

“Uh, how are you?” She asks, not knowing how to get to the point. 

“I’m good, Y/N, how are you?” 

“I’m okay…I just wanted to thank you for- everything? I don’t know how to show my gratitude yet but, I want to make it up to you somehow. I’m sure Namjoon told you about our deal so-” 

“I would love to have you around to test my recipes at any time of the day. And I’m sure the others will try to drag you along in their array of requests. Your place here is to rest and be safe first, we’ll decide those later on when you feel up for it. Sounds good?” She can feel the authority he has over the pack despite Namjoon being the leader. 

“Okay. Please let me know what I can help with, though.” 

Seokjin gives her a warning of a look that has her leaving with Namjoon quickly so as to not push her luck. 

“Dinner is in the microwave!” He yells before Namjoon can shut the door all the way.

“He’s pretty set on how he feels with you being here. He wants to take care of you in any way that you want or that he can. If for some reason I’m not around, hyung is the one you’ll have to put up with.”

Namjoon must be able to tell how she feels about that, because he’s explaining more for her to grasp onto so as to not feel like a burden. 

“He always does it for us. He’s assertive but soft and caring. He just wants to keep us healthy and happy all the time. He worries a lot, so don’t be afraid to tell him off- he’ll always respect your space.” Y/N’s sigh is audible and embarrassing. 

“Okay-”

“Joonie-hyung!” An excited Jimin pulls Namjoon into a sweaty hug that has Y/N hiding behind his figure to give herself some distance from him. Namjoon gives him a gross sound at the damp guy before Jimin peaks around to see Y/N. “I’m glad I caught you before you went up to the room. Jin-hyung wanted me to prepare some clothes for you. Hobi-hyung and I are the smallest, so we put two sets out for you, just so you had a choice in wearing something comfortable.They’re freshly cleaned and have no scent.”

Y/N can’t help but melt at the gesture. She’s still nervous around them all, just waiting for something to backfire and push her down several notches in his progress. But, one thing she knows for sure, is that the whole pack is thoughtful in their own ways. Even if it’s suggested by another member, they oblige and do everything to the best of their abilities. She appreciates that more than they probably think she does. 

“Thank you so much. I can wash them tomorrow as well.” 

“Don’t worry about that, just eat well and rest well, okay?” His smile is far too contagious, a thing that seems to beam and strike you in the chest- forcing you to give one back. 

“Okay, thank you again, Jimin.” 

-

Namjoon

He knew it'd be hard to pull himself away from her. Y/N in his home, eating food Seokjin made once again, accompanied by the wearing of his hoodie and tucked so pretty into one of his home's beds. He can't keep his fucking eyes off of her. 

"Is this awkward?" She randomly asks between bites of the stew he reheated for her. 

"No? Are you uncomfortable?" He asks, making sure to look around and see if anything would make her feel unsafe. 

"No. It's just- don't you want to go spend time with your pack? It's Monday evening, Namjoon. And you’ve been with me all day today." 

"They'll be okay without me for a night." He shrugs. Despite the nonchalance he gives, he never gave Y/N an actual explanation. She definitely catches that, giving him an evaluating look. “I’m taking care of you. They know that, they are okay with that. If you need my focus for a bit then they understand.” 

She still doesn’t give him a response, eyeing him with an obvious display of thoughts clouding her mind. He has to think of a better way to say it- to be less burdensome for her. Even if everything he’s done has been out of want, pure want and need to make sure she’s safe and comfortable. 

“Are you comfortable with me being here with you and not leaving you alone?”

A nod in response. 

“I want to be here. I want to make you comfortable. I want to make sure you’re safe, Y/N. I’ve lived with these guys for a while, a long time for some of them. They understand why we both need this- to be as content as possible in the circumstances.” He explains with the most sincerity he can muster without spilling more than they’re both ready for. He’s sat at the edge of the bed, his body turned towards her with his knee on the bed. She’s set criss-cross, leaning against the headboard with the tray of just-about-finished food on her lap. There’s still something in him that needs something, but he can’t risk more right now. He would never do anything before she’s ready. Even a simple touch could be unwanted and could draw her back farther and farther. That’s not fair for her at all. So, he suppresses the urge to reach out for her as she thinks and tries to believe it with all her might. 

“Okay.” Is all she says at first. “Could I- uh- well you know I didn’t have a nightmare when you first visited me-”

“Mm-hm.”

“Could I have something that…smells like you? So I can sleep.” 

He can’t help but think about the effects that would have on both of them. She’s safe with his scent, he’s content with his scent on her. It would quell that little voice in him that needs more. 

“I’ll grab you something once you’re set for bed. Are you still hungry? Or do you want to shower and get changed while I go make sure the pack’s all set?”

“I’m done, thank you. Is that the bathroom?” She points to a closed door across the room. 

“Yep, you don’t have to leave your room if you need it. Towels are already folded and in the large cabinet. I’ll be right back. You can lock the door, I’ll knock when I’m back, is that okay?”

“Yeah.” 

He silently takes the tray of food from her. Lingering on the look of content she gives him. He recognizes her expressions with her being so open- he loves that he’s seen so many now. Despite him saying she could lock the door, he clicks the knob into the locked position and gives the knob a little wiggle when he’s finally shut the door, making sure it’s locked. When he turns towards the stairs to make his way down, he gets stopped by a very irritated cheetah. 

“I’m sorry, Tae, she’s getting ready for bed right now. Give her a little time and I’ll see if she’s up for seeing others before bed.” 

The cheetah gives him a huff before slinking up to her door to lie right in front of it. He gets comfortable quickly, not giving Namjoon a second look. Namjoon goes on his way, now finding Seokjin in the kitchen doing the dishes with Jungkook. 

“All finished.” He presents the tray to them, letting the fox take it with a content smile. 

“Is she doing okay?” 

“I think so.”

-

Y/N

God this is the best shower she’s ever been in. She thought the Caddel home had the best shower she’d ever experienced. But this one is perfect. Just like everything seems to be when it’s connected to Namjoon and his pack. The water pressure seems to his her bruises with enough pressure to feel massaging more than anything. The soap in the shower seems up for grabs, making her skin and fur feel softer than they’d ever felt. She got the temperature perfect to tire herself down and be happily clean. 

Even their clothing is soft and perfect against her skin. She doesn’t know who’s is who’s but she preferred the black, baggy shirt that was slightly more soft. She chose whatever pair of shorts and was ready to try out the big bed properly with her hair still up in a towel- but a familiar scent outside her door catches her attention. Oh, how she missed that scent without even realizing it. She clicks open the lock without a second thought, finding the literal cheetah at her bare feet. 

“Taehyung?” He opens his eyes to look up at her. Taking his time getting up and stretching his pretty, long body. Y/N is truly stunned at the sight in front of her. She’s sure she’s seen animals before that were just shifted hybrids, but this is- she’s obviously never seen a cheetah, and she definitely wasn’t prepared to meet a pack member like this yet. She thought she was- but seeing Taehyung in this form makes her heart ache for no exact reason. It could be her wish to shift herself, it could be the feeling of trust she realizes resides between them to make him feel safe like this around her, or it could simply be the feeling of familiarity her cheetah finds in him. 

Despite him seeming to have been waiting for her to be done, he waits outside the door, eyeing her in a gesture she can only recognize out of instinct. 

“You can come in.” She tries, moving to the side for him. He obliges immediately, jumping up onto the bed with no other invitation needed. 

“Does Namjoon know that you’re here?” She asks, amused and fascinated with him still. All she gets is a huff that looks like annoyance at the mention of the wolf. She can’t stop a giggle from escaping her lips. She jumps up onto the tall bed and stretches her legs out as she leans against the headboard again, leaving one side of the bed for Taehyung to lie next to her. He’s not close enough to her to touch or even indicate that he wants to sleep there. But, she still feels a little awkward with the prospect. 

“Are you okay?” She decides to ask, the cheetah having stared at her and her bare legs for longer than she thinks is necessary. A whimper of a sound greets her, laying his head down just an inch from her left knee that homes a large purple bruise. His eyes bounce between the bruise and her face before she realizes. He doesn’t like that she’s hurt. 

“I’m okay. Just sore.” She lightens, hoping he doesn’t make a huge deal out of it in his human form. He surprises her even more than she thought was possible, when he lifts his head to give a tentative lick to the bruise. His scratchy tongue isn’t comforting, but the gesture- it’s a caring thing that only her own cheetah seems to know. He stops after the first lick, finding Y/N not denying the instinct he feels, so he goes back and does it a couple more times, before checking again and moving to another healing scratch on her shin. 

A knock on the door snatches her attention away from Taehyung who doesn’t care at all that someone is here. 

“It’s me.” Namjoon’s voice calls out.

“Come in!” Y/N calls out, hoping he doesn’t get mad at them. 

“I knew he’d find a way to go against my suggestion.” Namjoon ‘tsk’s while Taehyung has no care in the world except for her bruised and scratched legs. 

“He’s fine, I missed him anyways.” Y/N provides, looking up at Namjoon as he rounds the bed to her side with a fluffy pillow. 

“Here you go, are you tired?” She immediately takes the pillow and gives it an unshameful sniff as she squishes the pillow to her face. It’s perfect. This has to be a pillow he’s been using regularly. She feels a little bad for taking it- but not bad enough to give it back just yet. 

“I’m getting there. My limbs are more tired than anything.” 

“Let’s get your hair dry and brushed so you can sleep.” Namjoon dotes while Taehyung is still trying to heal her wounds with his tongue. The wolf leaves to the bathroom and grabs a brush she couldn’t originally find before gesturing to her hair. 

“Wait, I can do it-” Taehyung sets a firm paw onto her legs, finally stopping his licks to look up at her and directs a huff at her. 

“Fine.” She gives into both of them, already figuring out how the start of her living with them is going to look. They’ve always been attentive and wanting to help her, but this seems excessive. It’s more than she could’ve asked for and far more than she deserves. But, she can’t say she doesn’t want it. It means being around Namjoon for a little longer- feeling safe under their watchful eyes and being taken care of in ways she’s never experienced. 

Namjoon is gentle as he unwraps her unbrushed, wet curls, gathering them all to start brushing at the bottom of her hair. 

“Caring in active ways is important to us. We help each other without words, help when we’re needed, and give and take in times when we feel we need to. A pack is more than just a group of individuals, we are together as one and care for each other as we do ourselves. Though everyone needs different things, we learn them and adjust, because we care for them.” 

Namjoon is soft in his explanation, distracting her from the knots he brushes through and gives her much more to think about. This is him telling her he sees something in her as he does his pack, and he wants to care for her in ways that she may not be used to. It also tells her that she can try to be this way for them too. She’ll try. Just like Maria said. 

-

She seems to have forgotten at all about telling Namjoon anything. After her hair is up and out of her way to sleep comfortably, she’s lying down with a curled up cheetah at the foot of her bed. 

“Don’t be afraid to let Taehyung or I know if you need anything, okay?” Namjoon tells her, giving her a smile before turning away from her. She catches his hand in hers, needing to know if he would rather she tell him everything before she slept in his house. He already seems to understand. 

“Tomorrow. Tonight you rest and see how you feel here.” 

She waits, seeing if he changes his mind. He gives her hand a confirming squeeze and whispers a ‘goodnight’ to her. He then leans down, giving her a kiss into her hair that has her wanting to cry almost immediately at how gentle it was. He gives her hand another soft pressure before releasing her and petting Taehyung’s pretty head to give him a kiss on his head as well. 

“Goodnight.” Y/N calls as she watches him linger for only a short moment then flicks off the light and closes the door behind him.

“Goodnight, Taehyung.” She whispers into the dark. All she hears is a content chuff. 

She’s safe and clean. It’s a feeling she’ll never take for granted again.

[enchxanting]

our love is god [ethan landry] pt. 2

read part 1 here || all parts

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

warnings: light angst, mention of drugs/alcohol

a/n: hey, thanks for all the love on the last part! i promise I'm not churning these out like crazy lol, i wrote the first chapter way before posting it here. not a lot of ethan in this one because we have to flesh out the lore, but i make up for it with some tara/sam angst! yippee!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I can’t believe it. I actually can’t believe it.” Chad’s eyes are wide with amazement. “Y/N, at a loss for words? Because of a guy?”

“Dude, I’m telling you, it happened!” Tara said.

I was beginning to get tired of this back and forth. 

Friday nights were usually fun, the whole gang gathered in Tara’s room, getting ready for the night’s festivities (in this case, a house party at the Woodsboro Community College), but today, my friends seemed more interested in rehashing today’s lunchtime events.

“Do you know what his name was?” Anika asks.

“Oh god, please don’t egg them on,” I groan. “No, I didn’t catch it.”

“Hey, he didn’t throw it, either,” Tara teases. “He was probably just as nervous. The dude could barely even make eye contact with her.”

Chad sits up on Tara’s bed. “What did you say he looked like?”

“Uh, tall, really tall. Curly brown hair? He was new, I’d never seen him before. And neither had Tara, so don’t chalk it up to my being a newcomer.”

“Wait. Oh my god.” Mindy suddenly chimes in. “I know who he is. His name is Ethan Landry, he’s in my American History.”

I can’t lie; I’m excited by this. “Really? Why haven’t we seen him before?”

“Because he just moved here.” She grins. “Hey, I thought you’d given up on high school boys, anyway.”

I tinge pink. “Never say never, I guess?”

Chad and Tara whoop. Anika rolls her eyes at them. “Do you think he’ll be there tonight?”

I scoff. “I doubt it. We already have to lie about being college students to get in, anyway.”

Tara’s eyes glimmer. “Hey, you never know. That means you have to get extra dressed up for tonight, just in case he’s there.”

I am not prepared for one of Tara’s evil-genius machinations, especially not a makeover. But I entertain the fantasy for a second too long, and she takes my silence as agreement. 

That’s how I find myself in one of Tara’s old dresses, a strappy black thing that hangs too low on my chest for my liking. After fighting over it for a long while, she eventually agrees to add a long-sleeved top underneath, if only to stop my whining.

Yet even though my getting-ready process was the most involved, I’m still the first one downstairs, which is typical. I’m debating whether or not to run for the hills and go home when Sam comes through the front door.

“Oh, hey, Y/N. Is Tara upstairs?” She sets down a few bags of groceries and turns to lock the four deadbolts freshly nailed to the door. 

“Hey, Sam. Yeah, she is. I think everyone will be down soon.”

There’s an uncomfortable energy between us. Sam has never liked me much. Not because of my character or anything, as Tara has reassured me, but she’s overly wary of outsiders ever since last year’s attack. I try not to blame her, but I can’t help but feel a little hurt when she keeps her distance, giving me a once-over instead of asking about my day.

The tension is broken when I hear the rest of the gang come down the stairs. Sam smiles when she sees Tara, but it fades when she notices that we’re all dressed up. “Hey, Tar, where are you guys going tonight?”

Tara shifts her weight from foot to foot. “My friend at Woodsboro Community College offered us an in, so… we’re taking advantage of our youth?”

Sam’s face darkens. “No. No way, Tar. You remember the last time someone had a party around here? We nearly died.”

“Jesus Christ, Sam,” Tara groans. “You were out of my life for five years now you can’t let me be alone for five minutes..”

I look at Chad, uncomfortable. He slightly shakes his head at me– better not to interfere.. Still, I feel like I have to say something. “Hey, Tara, maybe she’s right, we could just–”

Tara whips around to glare at me. “You’ve got to be kidding, Y/N. Butt the fuck out.” Her words sting, but I step back and sit on the couch.

“I’m not interested in living in the fucking past, Sam,” she continues. “I’m not gonna let what happened to me for three days define me for the rest of my life.”

Sam is quiet. I expect her to snap, to yell at all of us, but she just stares at Tara for a few seconds.

Finally, she picks up her bag again. “Alright. Fine. Go to the party, bring your taser, or not, I don’t care. I won’t be here when you get back.”

Tara’s eyes widen. “Wait, Sam. Wait. I’m sorry, I–”

“No, it’s really fine.” She glances around the room, where the rest of us are trying to blend into the shadows. “I hope you guys have fun. If some psycho killer tries to get you, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

With that, she marches upstairs, and I hear her bedroom door slam and lock. 

No one knows what to say. Tara turns her back, and I see her wiping away angry tears. Without looking at us, she opens the front door. “Okay! Who’s ready?”

“Tara, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Anika says. “We can stay back if you want, I mean–”

“Nope! What I want is to get so shit-faced I don’t remember this conversation. Let’s go.”

My stomach still feels hollow, but I silently follow Tara out of the door. Anika and Mindy follow close behind. 

Chad takes a second before making up his mind. He grabs his keys. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go, then.”

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

hello ari i am gently bonking your head with mine hehehe this is how we exchange ideas ok..... now that i've heard abt arisugu n arigojo first meetings.... i do need to know abt arikenny's first interaction now!!!!! and and and.... is.... is arishoko also a thing.... bc i think she would absolutely love you too like holy fuck you guys would work so well i feel like!!!!!!!!!!! why'd i immediately think of a first meeting that's like a little clumsy and cute?? like smth along the lines of you just bumping into her in like a coffee shop???? and you'd apologize over the shoulder and then she's just staring at you with that little devious smile of hers???? hehehe idk i feel like this could be canon ok anyway ily don't stay up too late my love!!!! mwah<3 - @teddybeartoji

HELLO MICKEY :33 this is us rn

okay so !!! i thought a Lot abt this one….. arishoko n arikenny are definitely the ones that r the least. Clear. in my mind. bUT i love them very dearly so!!!! we’ll see if i can make this cohesive 😭

FIRST OF ALLLL arishoko :33 it’s very very much a Thing honestly i think that. realistically. out of all four options shoko is the one i’d get together w irl… she’s just very much my type n i think i could charm her w my silly ways !!!!! but yes …..

OKAY SO I THINK. that. you’re absolutely right….. it’s a lot more soft n sweet than some of the other ones 😭 THE CAFE IDEA IS SOOOO CUTE cafe dates would be our standard for sure…… BUT I FEEL LIKE. we would meet. at a Bar. i don’t drink so i’d probably just be there accompanying a friend and i’m hating every second of it bc :// there r ppl around :/// the music is kinda loud and the lighting hurts my eyes :////// i’m just suffering and trying to read my lil book while my friends are dancing in the corner and ohhhh would you look at that…… a pretty girl is sitting rlly close to me…………. and i’m trying to subtly stare at her bc i’m enamored and. i think. she catches me in the act and i get flusteredPBDKDBDJD you get the vibes. i’m normal abt her.

so she strikes up a conversation …….. for SURE teases me abt coming to a bar just to read my gay little book and order sweet non-alcoholic drinks smh (may or may not make a throwaway comment abt how she has a friend who’s just like that… i’m forever thinking abt her calling gojo a big kid in one of the light novels bc she had to find a bar that sells non-alcoholic drinks for him LMAOO)…. and i am just. a little smitten. this is 100% an ari falls first kind of scenario i can’t resist the allure of a super pretty mysterious woman !!! :((((( and then i think she recommends a bar . that’s a lot more chill. that she likes. and she kinda just coaxes me into dating her i think 😭😭 i doooo see it as a slowburn but not nearly as much as the others shoko has me wrapped around her finger 💔💔

OH ANDDDD i should mention that i thought more abt the Lore both for arishoko and arigojo and!!!! i think that i’d probably be a non-sorcerer in both…. bc i think satoshoko in particular would rlly benefit from that ?? likeee shoko just meets someone outside of the school / jujutsu society and it’s just. a kind of normalcy that she doesn’t usually have!!! one that she finds rlly precious!!!! :((( and it’s the same w gojo but even worse bc i think he Craves normalcy. shoko already has canonical ties to non-sorcerers but gojo is kinda stuck in the jujutsu world so :’3 i feel like he’d meet a rando and just. fall for them very hard. they don’t know who he is, they don’t know he’s the strongest. to them he’s just. a Guy. and i think he loves that a lot. i’m just their Just Some Guy <333333 i think they’d both be reallyyyy adamant on Not getting me involved in their world at all. gojo introduces me to the students and shoko (begrudingly) introduces me to gojo when he crashes our date (😔) but it’s like. they’re protective … yk ……

…… this is already rlly long T—T BUT THE TRAIN NEVER STOPS i need to let it run its course…….

with that being said !!!! arikenny. the Forbidden selfship. the deranged version of arisugu. where do i even begin w this man….

honestly . this one is… yeah . i imagine it as an established relationship (<- very vaguely) bc it’s hard to picture Anyone capturing kenny’s attention w/o being reallyyyyy special 😭😭 which is why i have less thoughts on the Lore and more on the dynamic itself!!! but ummmm . i can picture us meeting in a coffee shop…. there’s this old wip i have where reader spots him sitting in a corner and eventually they start talking. abt the books they’re reading. nothing much just kenny picking their brain a little and yapping just to yap….. so i could picture it being kinda like that!! maybe i capture his attention somehow? 😭 it only really makes sense if i happen to be beneficial to his plan or something…? BUUT again i’m not super interested in the lore for this one!!!! so i’ll just talk a lil abt the dynamic hehe.

i just think. kenny is a freak. i’ve spent a lot of time trying to figure him out when it comes to x reader stuff bc i think his love is very unorthodox 😭 he’s just so detached yk?? buuut i think he can be very silly and affectionate in his own way :3 i fear he’s a Mother and a Father in one. in the worst of ways…. i could only picture him being in an Actual relationship w someone he views as his equal, but i don’t know if . that could ever apply to me LMAO. so if anything i think it’s similar to moji in that….. he just. finds a puppy in the pouring rain and brings it home. bc it’s kinda silly and good company. so maybe he does see me a little like. a Pet. kind of . I DOOO WANT TO SAY HE CARES FOR ME BUT. yk… he really wasn’t built for selfshipping. he’s a weirdo!! but i think it’s love at first sight for me…. i’m weak for milfs i fear 💔💔 and i think he does develop some kind of soft spot eventually :3 we’re. roommates. roommates who play board games and sleep in each others’ lap. roommates who kiss. i’d like to kiss his brain. WHO SAID THAT…

ok that was a big big ramble but !!!!! standard arimickey interaction let’s be real. it’s funny bc arishoko is so grounded somehow and arikenny is 💀💀 the way it is. i guess it’s sort of like a god/devout believer pairing … but without. the religious aspect. i think there’s very much a power dynamic involved this bitch is ANCIENT….. anyway that’s all tysm for reading my lovely sunflower baby <33333 i hope !! you’re having a nice day!!! ilyvm!!!!

[deadpuppetboi]

I have a story to tell.

Way back, when I was in middle school, I was making up lost time during lunch by playing with my food.

I had no friends, no phone, or even the thought of drawing to waste time. I couldn’t really make up a single conversation with anyone, any kind of interest I had didn’t matter to anyone or anything. So I just distracted myself as best as I could so that I wouldn’t have to worry about what bothered me the most in my life.

But then I heard it.

Two boys around my age, sitting across from me, talking amongst themselves about how they would survive at Freddy’s.

I couldn’t remember what one said but I remember what the other said.

“Well, if I was in Freddy’s, I would have hidden at the very end of the restroom stall. But I’ll lock the door so that they won’t get inside!”

It was weird, I’ll have to admit.

How could someone get themselves into a restroom stall to hide from Freddy Krueger? How could you survive that? That’s stupid. Krueger would have killed them in a heartbeat, dream or not.

I forgot about the whole thing afterward, not thinking too much about it, not until it happened again but in a completely different way. It was in class, I wasn’t paying attention, of course, but a girl did turn her head back to look at me. It was strange but I laughed about it, not knowing it was a sign that it was going to change my life.

The girl was my friend, and for privacy's sake, we’ll call her G.

G properly introduced me to the world of Five Nights at Freddy’s. Her drawings were amazing, even now when I look back, I’m still impressed with how much skill she had in herself to be so detailed in her drawings.

Of course, it was around the time of the second game and many new characters were introduced into the series as a whole.

I was completely taken aback.

Animatronic animals that would hunt you down at night and stuff you in a suit in hopes you’ll become like them. Or just plainly kill you, whatever would be more horrifying.

And as horrifying as it was, I was in love with it.

I took in every media from it.

Fan fiction, YouTube videos, fan art, and even the long and complicated path of the future games afterward.

And I loved every second of it.

It changed me.

Better or worse, who knows, I loved it anyway.

Every time there was a new video about the series, I would watch it. A theory, a playthrough, a speed paint, an animation, and whatever else was out there that could entertain me. I was happy and content with what was in front of me and continued to grow with every update. I stimmed at any mention of my favorite characters, I drew and wrote for hours on end, and I annoyed practically everyone I knew with all I knew.

If anyone asked about The Marionette, The Nightmares, or even The Fnaf 4 Crying Child I would go INSANE and rant until my throat got sore. The love I had for the characters grew so much that it helped me get through some pretty awful situations. I’d love to dress up as The Marionette and get complimented by everyone who knew the character. I loved the thrill of ‘surviving the night’ by imagining The Nightmares in my home, going through the dark with little to no light, and running straight to my room, jumping onto my bed in fear that Nightmare Freddy would snatch me otherwise. I’d relate heavily with The Fnaf 4 Crying Child on what hardships he’d face, the tears he would shed, and being bullied for being afraid of someone or something he didn’t understand.

I was obsessed then, but not so much now.

But even as the years passed by, sometimes my interest would peak in the series but diminish just as quickly.

New books, new lore, and new games would come along but it didn’t really grab my attention like the early games did.

Not anyone’s fault (apart from the books lmfao) but I tend to look back at the chaotic but wonderful memories of what the series was like before when it was just four games.

No scooper, no remnant, no sci-fi, and no complicated history of the lore that keeps me awake at night.

Just a straightforward, albeit complicated, lore of a series of minimum-wage night guards who risk their lives for a very scummy company.

I love it

I love it so damn much.

So, Scott, from what I know, you’ll probably never see this, but just in case you do just know this.

Thank you, honestly.

There’s a lot to the games and characters that really resonate with me now and who knows how long. And even if I’m not as obsessed with the series as I was when I was younger, I love to know how much it’s shaped me into who and what I am today. And, sure, I may not like some aspects of the series now, but who am I to complain? I’m not the creator, I’m just a young adult trying to survive college in this already burning world.

So, whatever happens next, I’m just glad to see new fans get so excited talking about their favorite characters.

And I’m glad to see that it makes you happy to see other people appreciate your hard work.

So, again, Scott Cawthon, thank you for making Five Nights at Freddy’s, you really helped an awkward teenager find their place in an already confusing world.

Here are some pics of my favorite plushies featuring me and my custom Fredbear plushie)!

[usafphantom2]

SAC Crew Dog Alert Stories: An Introduction - Part 1

In 1989, I spent a lot of time trying to explain to my family what being on Alert was. The fire house analogy was the only one I could come up with. For seven days straights, a couple of times a month, we would move into the Alert Facility also known as the Shack and for the most part, sit around and do nothing. This story is how I remember it now, 30 years later.

The Shack was a building, in the fenced area at the end of the runway. It was built right next to the “Tree”, a aircraft parking location designed to make it very easy to takeoff in just a few minutes and from the air, it looks like a simple drawing of a tree.

We started our Alert tour on Wednesdays. So, we’d show up on Wednesday morning around Zero Seven Hundred (7:00 am for you civies) and park in the lot outside the fence and drag all the sh*t we would need for the week, clothes, books, razor, soap, shampoo, etc, plus all our professional gear, helmet bag, publications (a big heavy briefcase.)

At Loring Air Force Base (AFB) in Maine (ME), we had seven tankers on Alert. There are four crew positions, Aircraft Command, Copilot, Navigator and the Boom Operator, and this meant there were 26 other crew dogs doing the same thing as you. Some were married or had girlfriends who would drop them off and say goodbye, others were single, like me and we’d drive our cars there. One guy used to show up on his snow mobile occasionally, and another guy, who was a HAM Radio guy used to arrive in his RV with radio antennae’s sticking out of it all over the place (another funny story.)

The Shack was build was built partially underground. The bottom floor was where all the quarters were. There were three main hallways, with a couple of crossing hallways to connect them, and probably about 80 single rooms. Originally, the B-52s had also pulled Alert, they had six crew member per crew and maybe six or eight aircraft on Alert, but Loring had become a Conventional Bomber base during to one of the Start treaties, so the bombers were no longer there, thank the Lord.

The second floor in the Shack was above ground, and it was the main area. It had windows. The main entry door was at one end of the building, all other external doors were Exit only. There was a briefing room, a chow hall, various recreation rooms with TV’s and couches, and then an area for doing classified stuff that I could tell you about, but then I’d have to kill you. Classified briefing could be given in the main briefing room as well.

So, after you dragged all your sh*t, up the hill, showed your badge to get in the gate, then continue dragging your sh*t the rest of the way up the hill and into the main entry, show your badge again, get your room assignment, and drag your sh*t down to your room (seeing a theme here?) and sort it out, then it was time to get to work.

Time to find your crew and get to the briefing held at Zero Eight Hundred (8:00 am) sharp. And I do mean sharp. Time hacks, the process of synchronizing your watch with the master timekeeper (usually a Navigator) was a big thing, was a very important thing and seconds mattered.

The presenter of the briefing would brief us. Thinking about it, I can’t really remember what they talked about. Most of the time I was half asleep, I do remember that, but not on change over day. They’d discuss the weather, what crazy Ivan was doing, status of the airplanes, stuff like that and when they finished, it was time to head off to the aircraft.

The airplanes were kept at the Cage. Tankers weren’t allowed to use the Tree (even though it was empty), because… well… because we were tanker Toads. We didn’t drop bombs, so we weren’t really all that important (until they needed gas that is.) Our parking location was across the runway in the other fenced off parking area. In order to get in, you had to be Pre-Announced (another funny story) and the AC or Copilot would usually call over and let them know we were coming.

While someone was calling over, the Boom would get the keys to our Alert Truck. Each crew had their own truck, a Ford or Chevy Crew Cab 4 door pickup. There were also a few extras that could be borrowed if you were important enough, but mostly each crew had to share amongst themselves.

The Boom always drove the truck when the crew was together. It was tradition, and God help the Aircraft Commander who tried to buck it. Next stop, the Cage to preflight the aircraft.

(I missed a part here… so I’m adding it now) When going to airplane to pre-flight it, you also needed to bring all your professional sh*t, oh, I mean gear. It was a big bag, filled with cold weather gear and other stuff. Bigger than a duffle bag, and heavier too. It had to have all the correct stuff in it, or else. And from time to time, they would actually check it, so you couldn’t skimp. It had to be dragged out of the truck, up the crew entry chute (a ladder to get you to the flight deck) and then secured (tied down) to the floor in the back of the aircraft. Four bag, one for each crew member, and one more for the flying crew chief. Getting one of the themes here? We were always dragging our sh*t around all over the place.

The aircraft was always, and I mean ALWAYS, ready to takeoff. The entire pre-flight right up the step where they Start Engines was already accomplished, but there were a couple of exceptions. For instance, you could not leave the battery switch on because that would kill the batteries. Each and every morning, you had to go to the aircraft and make sure that everything was up to snuff. With Loring having a cold climate with lots of snow and very low temperatures, we had a few extra things that needed to be done. The engines had to be covered to keep snow and ice out of them, and the wings had to be kept clear too.

Although we had crew chiefs to take care of the airplane, the decent thing to do was to give them a hand if it was needed, operationally, the brass wanted everything ready and they didn’t care who, or how and why, just get it done. Being the only enlisted member on the crew, it was often the Boom who was elected (or just plain old ordered) to help them out, but only after we’d finished our part of the pre-flight.

In my early days, we were still flying on the KC-135 A model which did not have a usable Auxiliary Power Unit (APU) and used Injected Water to provide additional thrust for takeoff. Water freezes – and Loring is cold, so the water needs to be heated. That was my job, and the crew chiefs and, you guessed it, it sucked. An external power cart, known as a Hobart, needed to be plugged into the aircraft. The electrical power it provided enabled the use of the water heaters, which probably used enough energy to light up the entire base. There was a warning in the Dash One (the Bible that told us all about the KC-135) that said, “Do NOT turn on all the water heater switch at the same time.” There were five heaters and a switch for each one.

Rumors had it that once upon a time, a boom did exactly this, and the load caused the Hobart to flip over and die. (Hobarts are big, probably weighing 5,000 lbs) Not good, especially on Alert, where THE AIRPLANE MUST ALWAYS BE READY TO TAKEOFF!

Fortunately, water was not always needed. If the temperature got very low, the engines didn’t need it. But, unfortunately, the only way to get rid of the water was to dump it out of the bottom of the airplane and onto the ramp where it promptly froze into the shape of a very nice skating rink. Lovely.

The airplanes were fueled up to the maximum Emergency War Order (EWO) takeoff weight, which was right around 290,000 lbs. A bit more was added, allowing for the fuel burned off while taxi’ing. They were very heavy, and it was hard on the airplanes having them sit on the ramp with all this weight.

So, moving on, we’d get the preflight complete and head back to the Alert facility. There was ground training to be done and briefings to attend. First, studying your mission. You need to know where you were going, who you were refueling, and where you were landing (or bailing out as the case might be.) They weren’t kidding, you really needed to know. There was a test! And if you failed it, it was a disaster, I mean, they’d run you out town on the rails! You’d be the laughingstock of all your peers. (I really want to use the term “No Joke” but somebody has ruined that statement.)

So, you did your studying and after that it was usually lunchtime. Hmm, personally, I always thought the chow hall food was good. But then again, I think any food prepared by some else is good. I can’t stand cooking, and this worked out well when I was in the Air Force because someone else always did the cooking.

Lunch was also always a very social event. Long tables with crews sitting together inevitably lead to storytelling, and let me tell you, some of the guys were superb. They would have us in stitches for hours. Sometime the stories were sad, sometimes funny, but they were always entertaining, and they became the lore over time, being repeated and discussed over the years.

Somebody actually created a book, handwritten, with text and drawings, which included many of those stories that was kept down in the crew quarters. I wish to the Lord above; I had that book. It was gold. It was passed around, amongst the crew members to read during the huge amount of time they had when they were just doing nothing.

And I think at this point, lunch time, I’ll end Part 1. Stay tuned for Part 2 which will start with:

A Nap

Photos:

KC-135 62-3580 – The Moose Is Loose (not sure it was an A or an R as this point)

View of the flight line in the summertime, around 1992-4

@tcamp202 via X

[pikmininaplane]

Fit lore!! I’d love to hear about your thoughts for Phil figuring out fits secret if you’d like to share, the same thought has been floating around in my head as well lol

OHOHOHOHO friend I love you /p I'm putting this under a read more because I. Ended up writing a lot more than intended–

So the thought came to me the day before Fit's lore, when Fit asked Phil if he'd be there the next day. Obviously it didn't mean anything else than "will you attend the event/will I see you tomorrow my friend ?", but my brain immediately went "what if Phil was involved in Fit's lore"

This, combined with the fact that I've been hoping someone would find out about qFit's secret or at least get sus of his behaviour, led me to believe that qPhil would be the best person that could find out about it, actually

'cause like– first of all, qPhil is probably the person qFit's closest to, without counting Ramón or any of the eggs. I mean, he's friendly towards most people, and gets along pretty well with qBad, qPac and qMike, but qPhil has literally given qFit access to his eggs' bunker, which, to my knowledge, he'd only given to qMissa and qWill, the fathers of said eggs, before. qPhil, who would probably have earned the #1 paranoid dad crown if qBBH hadn't been around, fully trusts qFit with his children.

And like I said, I really want someone to find out about qFit's secret, but like. Wouldn't it be more interesting if it were someone qFit is close to ? Someone qFit trusts, but also someone who trusts qFit ?

Also, as much as I want someone to know at least part of the truth, I don't want everything to be revealed to everyone yet, and I feel like most people, if they found out about qFit's secret, would reveal it to the others – some others, at least. Would qCellbit or qMaximus hide it from the Ordo Theoritas ? Would qBaghera, qForever or qBad hide it from each other ? Would the people actively investigating the island keep the existence of a third, unknown party to themselves ? Well... maybe. That is up to discussion. But they'd want to tell, at least, and that's not what I wish for.

Now qPhil ? qPhil is a lot less involved in the lore, or even in the RP itself (no shade, I love ccPhil, his character and the way he plays him) – he isn't even part of the Ordo Theoritas. He's not really interested in solving the island's mysteries – his priorities lie with the eggs and their safety.

I truly think qPhil would be a friend qFit could confide in. Because let's be real, qFit could probably use one – mans has been lying to everyone on the island for months, and the only one that knows part of his secret is Ramón, his 3 months old child, who he hasn't even told everything. Between that and the growing pressure (for real, what's with the cats appearing around him,,) qFit is under, he can't keep it all to himself forever.

I don't think qFit would tell him himself, though – and neither do I think qPhil would ask. I mean, even if he thinks qFit's chat messages are suspicious, he isn't the type to inquire about it.

... But accidents happen, y'know ?

[As he jumps down the elevator shaft, Phil can't quite shake off the feeling that something's wrong. That whatever Fit's doing down there, it isn't any of his business, and he should probably just go back up and tell Fit to meet him at his gym, or anywhere, really.

But, well. He's already there. Might as well go further.

The trail of torches leads him deeper and deeper, until it finally stops, in a tunnel like any other. But Phil isn't a fool. He can hear the faint tapping of keys.

It only takes him a few seconds to find the hidden entrance.

Fit stands up as he comes in.

The room is small, barely big enough to breathe, and dark. Its only light comes from the computer screen sitting on the wooden desk, in the middle of the room, between the two men.

Neither of them speak.

Phil can see the thoughts flashing behind Fit's eyes. He's certain of it now, he's found something he shouldn't have found, and Fit has yet to decide how to react. Unconsciously, his hand has moved closer to his trident; consciously, Phil prepares himself to grab his sword.

But Fit doesn't attack. He simply places his hand in front of himself and gives Phil an awkward yet friendly smile.

"Hey, Phil ! Didn't expect to see you there... !"

Phil wishes he could just return his smile and pretend like nothing’s wrong. Ignore what he’s seeing and go back to Chayanne and Tallulah.

... but it's a little too late for that, isn't it ?

"Oi, mate," he calls out as he crosses his arms. "What are you up to."]

... something about leitmotivs and Phil finding out people's secrets by walking into their secret underground rooms...

So yeah, TL;DR: I want someone to find out about qFit’s secret because it’s a shame such a huge share of the lore is kept, well, secret, and I think qPhil would be a perfect first confident because they’re really good friends and he wouldn’t just tell anyone :] Plus I love their relationship and I’d love to see it being explored more please I’m begging

(Also I'm glad to hear I'm not the only one who's been thinking about it and I'd love to hear your own thoughts if you're willing to share them 👀)