#{{ TH; Mistaken Identities }}

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Ohhhhhh!!

The Shannon saying to Eddie at the lake she thought he was someone else and Buck confusing who he has feelings for and ending up dating Tommy parallel!!!

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 6: mistaken identity

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

Spencer Reid often wondered why he let himself get dragged into awkward social situations by his colleagues. Bars were one of the worst places—breeding grounds for infections, the noise overwhelmed him, and talking to strangers irritated him. But at least there was alcohol, which made the situation slightly more tolerable.

Each team member was scattered in different activities: some were dancing, JJ was playing darts, a few were just sitting around drinking, and Spencer had decided to settle in a quieter section, on a burgundy leather couch in front of a wooden coffee table.

He was drinking a cocktail with red wine that felt smooth as it went down his throat when he saw someone he didn’t recognize, at least not personally, approaching energetically in his direction. For a second, he thought you might be looking for someone else, but when you dropped down beside him, he knew that wasn’t the case.

“Hi!” you exhaled, sounding a bit out of breath.

He glanced at you, and he was sure he didn’t know you, or he would have definitely remembered. You were wearing a tight dress that revealed some areas that, while not vulgar, could certainly catch people’s eyes. He wasn’t a pervert, of course, but he clearly knew how to identify an attractive person. Your cheeks were flushed, a clear sign of intoxication, and your eyes sparkled under the warm lights of the place.

“Huh… hi.”

“I thought you’d already left. I’m so lucky I found you,” you said, slurring a little.

The young man was confused by your words and tried again to remember if he knew you from somewhere. Unfortunately, the alcohol was enough to cloud his thoughts, and he feared it would be rude to directly ask for your name. He thought he could probably figure it out subtly, so he decided it was best to act natural.

“No, I… I’m still here.”

“Obviously,” you giggled. When you leaned your head against the couch, Spencer could see the skin on your neck, and he didn’t have time to react before your hand reached up to touch the red tie he had tied around his neck. “Where’d you get this tie? Were you already wearing it?”

By this point, he could imagine that, in your disoriented drunkenness, you had likely mistaken him for someone else. He smiled apologetically, ready to explain the situation, but you were quick to speak again:

“Whatever, let’s dance.”

“Sorry, but I think you’re confused…”

“No. You promised me you’d dance with me, and that’s what we’re going to do,” you declared firmly.

You had already grabbed his hand to pull him up from his seat, and still disoriented by the chaos of the situation, he didn’t resist as you led him to the area where many were dancing.

He felt so strange and out of place, like a clumsy gazelle in lion territory. Then you started dancing close to him, making him lose his breath. Normally, Spencer didn’t focus on a woman’s beauty—it wasn’t his priority, as he liked to give importance to other, more relevant aspects from his perspective—but he couldn’t deny that you had something that inevitably drew his gaze toward you. Smiling at his stunned expression, you stepped closer, placing your hands around his neck, encouraging him to dance.

You were the complete opposite of Spencer: beautiful, outgoing, sensual, and flirtatious. He was far too shy to dance, and besides that, he was a terrible dancer. He had no rhythm, and his movements were awkward, but you didn’t seem to care, too busy caressing him wherever you could reach and enjoying the music playing in the background.

“Reid?” someone suddenly asked beside you.

Morgan had the most teasing grin in the world when he saw how a girl was clinging almost inappropriately to his younger colleague, and Spencer turned red from his ears to his neck. The agent held back a laugh, knowing it would be too cruel and not wanting to embarrass the man even more.

“What’s the problem?” you asked suddenly, sounding a bit hurt. “Don’t you like me anymore?”

“I think you’re mistaking me for someone else,” he finally mustered the courage to say. “I don’t know you. I’m really sorry.”

“Aren’t you Ethan, the one in my chemistry class?” you asked absentmindedly. He hadn’t been to university in years, so he shook his head.

“I’m not. My name is Spencer Reid.”

“And how old are you?” you inquired, sounding more curious. You hadn’t let go of him, your arms still around his neck, much too close for his comfort.

“I’m… huh… 26.”

“You look younger,” you remarked politely. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No,” he replied quickly, thrown off by your question.

“And do you think I’m pretty?” you continued.

You didn’t seem inclined to leave him alone, and he suddenly felt suffocated—but not in a bad way. He just wanted to get away from you because he was extremely embarrassed by being the target of your flirting, like prey in front of its predator.

“Beauty is very subjective,” he declared, clearing his throat.

Spencer couldn’t register when you pushed his neck and pulled him into a kiss that lasted only a few seconds. Your lips tasted like rum, cherry, and mint.

“I don’t need subjectivity to know you’re damn hot, boy,” you exclaimed excitedly, still with that unmistakable drunk look. “Did you like the kiss?” you asked. When he didn’t answer, you rephrased your question: “If I give you my number, would you call me?”

The young man had too much to process at that moment, and you kept making him nervous. How could someone be this bold? Not that he was judging you; it just all seemed so… strange to him.

“I think so. When you’re not drunk.”

“I only had a little, relax,” you whispered softly, winking at him “Do you have something to write with?”

You expected him to pull out a phone, but to your surprise, from inside his brown formal jacket, he took out a notepad and a pen. Who the hell brings that to a bar?

“Here,” was all he managed to say.

Amidst the chaos, the lights, and the crowd, you managed to write down your phone number, your name, and, in case that wasn’t enough, your email address.

Spencer wished he could say more, but JJ arrived to inform him that an urgent case had come up and the team needed to leave immediately.

“Are you a cop or something?”

“FBI agent,” he murmured quietly, to avoid curious ears.

“I don’t believe you. Show me your badge.”

“I really have to go,” he insisted, sounding slightly desperate but also guilty for leaving you.

“Will you call me then?”

He thought about it for a moment, observing you, trying to figure out the best response. He concluded that it was impolite to dismiss a lady, especially one as pretty as you, so he nodded.

“I’ll call you later, okay?” he promised, and you smiled smugly as you waved goodbye.

It was a shame that that same night, Spencer had to face Tobias Hankel. Because if it had been otherwise, he wouldn’t have left you waiting for a call that never came.

[vecnuthy]

Steddie first kiss scenario

Accident: mistaken identity due to Steve being absolutely hammered | wc 893 |

Two hours into a Harrington house party, Eddie was getting near the end of his inventory and his social battery. The cup of punch-colored alcohol he'd been nursing had kept him nice and fuzzy for a while, but with the end in sight, he dumped the rest down the kitchen sink, tossed the cup in the trash, then turned, opting to walk out the back yard rather than navigate through the packed house.

But his progress was stopped in an empty hall by the man of the house himself, Steve Harrington.

A very drunk Steve Harrington, at that, considering the extra droop of his pretty eyes, lazy smile, overly loose movements, and the way he crashed into Eddie, pinning him against a small table, slurring loudly, "Nance! There'y'are."

He looked and smelled absolutely sloshed as he swayed further into Eddie's space.

"Steve, wha-"

"Been loogin for y' everywhere."

Before Eddie could even do anything, Steve's hands were buried in his curls and pulling him in until their lips met and - wow, that was definitely Steve Harrington's rum-soaked tongue in his mouth, making his stomach swoop, the heat from Steve's flushed face igniting a fire that tore across Eddie's skin, burning faster with every movement of Steve's lips. Lips that were soft, unlike the fingers curling, pulling Eddie's roots enough to make Eddie's hips press into Steve's, make him want to moa-

"You taste different. Like smoke and.....and peaches, hv'you been smoking?!" He frowned and shook his head. "S'not good for you."

He paused in thought as Eddie's heart hammered in his chest, mouth and scalp tingling from Steve's onslaught. His brain refused to make sense of anything happening. Were he not half propped up by the table against the wall and Steve's hold, Eddie would probably be on the floor.

"Wanna smoke now, achlly," Steve said as he put enough space between them to pat at his pockets before realizing with a laugh, "Oh wai', you've got 'em!"

He started patting at the pockets of a very shell-shocked Eddie as he continued to ramble, "And peashes. Where'd you ge' peashes? Y'llergic to the fuzz. You 'idn't eat that, d'you?"

Steve patted a little too far over the front of his jeans, making Eddie, honestly on the verge of blacking out, yelp. Steve giggled out, "Ticklish," then added, "You're taller," before pouting, "Ugh, your pockets 'r so full. When d'you put jeans on?" Steve let out a frustrated whine before huffing, "God, I can't find'em, just - "

Steve paused then smiled like he remembered the secret of life, and muttered, "You've got the smoke."

And just like that, Eddie's face was smooshed between Steve's hands, breath barely ghosting over Eddie's lips before he breathed Eddie in, eyes closed, probably imagining nicotine flooding his system.

Eddie would make a run for it if he were able to move, but he couldn't will his body to do anything but buzz from shock yet sing for Steve's touch.

Steve opened his eyes, and he took a long, glazed-over look at Eddie's face, settling on his lips.

"You kind of look different. Your lips....they're bigger." His eyes closed slowly then grew comically large. "D'you eat the fuzz, Nance?!" Steve panicked, then looked Eddie in the eyes again, and took a shuddering breath. "Your eyes, though, they....th' look, look kinda brown like -" Steve's face softened "- like his."

"Steve?"

To Eddie's immense horror, a very confused Barbara Holland had appeared behind Steve.

"Barrrb! Hey, guess what? Nance's been smoking!" he giggled.

"What?" Barb's eyes flicked back and forth between a very panicked, frozen Eddie.

"She tastes like smoke! Nancy Wheeler, smoking!" He cackled gleefully, but made it known that he was proud of her by turning back to Eddie and slurring, "You're so cool, 's like it's Halloween. Dressed up like Munson? Y' look so cool, baby." And he swooped in and kissed Eddie one more time.

"Okay, Steve!" Barb shrieked and pulled him away. "Let's get you some water!" She shot Eddie a wide-eyed questioning look and steered a stumbling Steve toward the kitchen.

"He's so wasted, he thought I was Nancy!" Eddie rushed out quietly, which made Barb snort.

Eddie's face burned, numb to everything except where Steve had touched him. Which was kind of everywhere, actually, so he felt on fire. "And it happened before I could even- I didn't know what to d-"

"Eddie!" She cut off his rambling, then sighed. "Don't worry, you're fine. You're fine. Understand?" She was waiting for a response.

Eddie, head still swimming, nodded cautiously.

"Good," she said, letting some of her tension melt away, which Eddie tried to copy. "Doubt he'll remember any of it, anyway. I know I don't want to."

Eddie winced at that.

"No, it's not you, it's just-" she huffed then shook her head. "Don't worry about it. Drive safe, Eddie."

And just like that, she was gone.

Eddie followed suit with Steve's voice echoing in his head, an overlapping manic cacophony of

"Your lips....they're bigger."

"Your eyes, though, they....th' look, look kinda brown like...like his."

"Dressed up like Munson? Y' look so cool, baby."

Two kisses because Steve thought Eddie was his girl.

And her best friend had seen the second.

Actual fucking kisses because Steve thought he was his.

Thought Eddie was his.

Said he tasted like smoke and peaches.

Eddie drove home in a daze.

[merinsedai]

Thank you, @ficreadingchallenge for this fun little bingo challenge this summer! Some of these, I could have filled multiple times and some I had to have a search for, but all part of the fun!

1. Under the influence: Spoils of War by @seiya-starsniper [E] Aphrodisiacs! Starting strongly with the smut. Kinda feral for this piece, multiple rereads. Hob is not a good man but he is good in bed. Dream has not spoken since he arrived. How long ago that was I don't know, but I'm in awe of the pettiness. Excellent, love it. Very much E (and probably not the only one on this list...)

2. Newest fic in the tag of your choice: listen, I'm very one-track minded. Dreamling has basically been the only tag of my choice for the past two years. So, the newest fic when I decided to do this square was: Dream Ship by @often-adamanta [E] A spicy little tale set on a space ship which Dream controls and Hob's his muscle. They're a new partnership and Dream's not happy about it so he's giving Hob the silent treatment. Queue Hob taking some alone time, Dream accidentally interrupting and Hob having no privacy issues at all. The start of something beautiful, no doubt.

3. Inspired by another fanwork: I'll Go To Sleep and Dream Again by @chaosheadspace [E] which is inspired by Shelter by softestpunk. An accidentally human Dream has need of the help of Hob Gadling to help him navigate life as a human (eg facial hair, food, and morning wood), regain his Endlessness and recover his tools. Whilst falling in love and having some hot sex ofc. Also, a lot of lovely petnames.

4. Mistaken Identity: As a Stranger I Know Myself by @phinofthestorm and @sleepsonfutons [E] Could be no other choice for this square. Gripping drama, mysteries, feeeeelings, smut (obvs), plentiful existential angst, and shit goin' down. Featuring Jessamy the raven knocking her head against the wall; Burgess's cane; name repetitions; everyone having A Time of it; side characters Shipping Them Too; oh, and a main character you don't expect to like as much as you do...

5.Slow Burn: What Dreams May Come, When Living is at an End by Sebena [T] This fandom is slow burn central, but this is the fic I'm currently in the middle of, and I'm quite enamoured with the relationship between Knight Hob and Morpheus, and it's beautifully descriptive. Plus some lovely pieces of art by @teejaystumbles A real treat.

6. Dressing Up: Make it Count by @arialerendeair [E] Dream gets to dress Hob up very nicely for posh dinners aboard the world's most famous ocean liner in this wonderful Titanic AU. Dream gets to dress down, too! A longer fic but absolutely gripping! Could also use Aria and Konstadt's Colour Forecasting [E] for this square. There's lots of fancy tailoring and clothing choices going on here. And lots of smut, relationship navigation and lots and lots of kissing.

7.Author's oldest fic: Metamorphosis by @windsweptinred [M] Delightful fic about-yes- the metamorphosis of Dream and Hob into Something Else. Starts with high drama as Dream is about to take Death's hand as the Kindly Ones are ravaging the Dreaming and takes things in a very different direction. There's stunning artwork on each chapter that really adds to the reading experience!

8. Small Fandom (<1000 fics): In Which Cat/Cow Is Not A Yoga Pose by @temve [E] ok, technically a crossover with The Sandman (although for pure Aldrich Kemp there's A Fishbowl, a Forklift, and a Friend: or, Who Hired Aldrich Kemp? which I read back in April, so doesn't count for the summer challenge) Temve has Aldrich's voice down to a T and her humour is so on point. I laughed out loud many times in both these fics.

9. Gift Giving: For Your Affection by @cuubism [T] short and sweet little fic by cuubism dealing with high larceny as a love language. cuubism's writing is so joyful, the playfulness she often gives to her Dream brings me great happiness and there's no exception here.

10.Enemies to friends/lovers: Tower and Rose by @moorishflower [E] Beauty and the Beast style 'au' with a magic tower, a mysterious lord, a plucky peasant Hob, an 'imprisonment', a terror stalking the grounds and many, many questions. Why are all the servants ravens? Twists and turns a plenty, and some fun eldritch sex sprinkled in.

11.Lyric Title-listen to the song, too!: please wake me/for my love lies patiently by @beatnikfreakiswriting [E] sequel to the also-having-a-song-lyric title, would you let me know...? aka fics that live rent-free in my head after having rewired my brain. Featuring the most relatable Hob ever, copious interesting facts in the author's notes, and a Dream who would have scared the shit out of me if he'd been my lecturer but is hot af and needs lots of love really. Lots of scorching smut too. Is this a theme? Obviously. Bonus that each chapter, and the series title, have song lyric titles too.

12.de-aging/kidfic England and Nowhere (Never and Always) by @dsudis [M] The last fill on my card, and one I had to search for. And I'm glad I did. I'm about 1/2 way through so don't know the resolution but a lot of it is very soft, especially Dream's relationship with the changeling toddler, Finn. Finn feels very much like a real little boy in his actions and his dialogue. I'm very much enjoying this fic.

FREE SPACE: literally anything by @tj-dragonblade fluff and smut and pure delight.

13.character study: Unsent Letters, Nameless Stranger by @rainbowvamp [M] letters from Hob to Dream throughout the centuries detailing the evolution in Hob's thoughts, attitudes and feelings towards his life, his history and mostly, his feelings for Dream (aka a lot of pining). I'm about halfway through the letters so far and am looking forward to getting back to them.

14.happy ending: My Fair Gadling by @zigzag-wanderer [E] a work in progress, so we haven't reached the happy ending yet, but I have faith in the author and this absolutely wonderful fic. Hob has such a strong narrative voice, he is a delight to read and so, so funny. I laugh out loud constantly in all of ziggy's fics, whether that's the dialogue or the hilarious analogies and metaphors. Professor Morpheus is a study in buttoned up sadness to begin with, but just wait until he's unleashed. He's unbearably sexy when he rolls his sleeves up and fixes car engines at the side of the road, and endearingly earnest in bed. I eagerly await every chapter (especially to find out what outfit Hob has shimmied into that day).

15.Secret Relationship: Risk and Reward by @signiorbenedickofpadua [E] absolutely cracking Regency au. Lord Morpheus spends a lot of time early on feeling mildly fevered. It's probably nothing to do with his new house guest, Mr Robert Gadling, right? These guys slowly, so slowly move towards Something Special. There is the ultimate thrill of finger brushing; the admiration of shapely legs and the highly charged Shakespeare reading. Also balls, duels, painting, stargazing, horse riding and misuse of biblical quotes. And I'm only half way through! The relationship is of necessity given the time period, secret. At the point I'm at, it's finally begun in earnest and I'm excited to see where the plot takes them next!

16. Angst: Exit Wounds by @valeriianz [T] There are many angst-ridden fics in this fandom, and I am a sucker for angst. I love it and seek it out. This fic by sanyumi tore my heart out, stomped all over it and then threw it in the river for good measure. Sometimes you just need to feel destroyed and this delivers.

17. Omegaverse AU So Tell Me Where To Put My Love by @seiya-starsniper [E] Another of my favourite au topics! This starts out with an unhappily arranged marriage, secrets and angst and lots of miscommunication and then explores the developing relationship between Hob and Dream; Dream getting to feel empowered; more miscommunication; knitting; Hob getting to be incredibly rude to Dream's mother, and a very happy ending. Could have tagged loads in this square. Special mentions to i have no fear of time / for who knows how my love grows? by @gabessquishytum [E] for pure horny good times most centuries; and also the incomparable Lover, Be Good to Me by @omgcinnamoncakes which I haven't actually read this summer but which hasn't left my brain. The ultimate omegaverse slowburn and healing fic. Wonderful.

18. High School/College au: Dr Hardass and Professor Sweetheart by crimandclove [G] an outsider pov look at Hob and Dream, who are both professors at the same university (and also married, of course, though the protagonist doesn't know it). And by the same author: Coincidence, [T] which is the story of how Dream and Hob met and became friends in high school. Pure nostalgia for me and Hob is such a delightful pov character to follow. Unfinished but with a full synopsis of how the story would have gone.

19. Road Trip: The Blood of Bucephalus by @llflorence [E] no actual roads, but these guys sure go on a journey. Set in ancient times, with shades of Alexander the Great. Except it's king Morpheus and his loyal soldier (and lover) Hob. Featuring Hob being mostly bewildered about what's going on and Morpheus being the most tight lipped monarch in existence. Also featuring a love for horses and Morpheus's unquenchable desire to travel incognito. Written with the same tenderness, intensity and mystery that is Lis's hallmark.

20. New author (<1 year) Coma Dreams by TheTroubleWithTribbles [M] a fic I had to actively search for but very much enjoyed reading. Some domesticity, Dream being caring, Matthew being traumatised, and Hob enjoying an extended trip to the Dreaming. Featuring some laugh out loud moments, Dream with broccoli patterned oven gloves and Hob being free with terms of endearment.

21. Crossover or fusion fic: Half Asleep, Half Waking by @softest-punk [G] again, I could have chosen fics by softestpunk to fill most of the spaces on this grid! Isn't their writing delightful? Such warmth and such range. Something for whatever you're in the mood for. Am in awe. Anyway, this is a crossover between The Sandman and Rivers of London. I didn't know the RoL books, but after reading this I listened to them on audible and came back to the fic. Very enjoyable- thanks, Cecil! Nightingale is my favourite character from RoL and I loved his relationship with Hob. And Hob gently chiding Molly and Nightingale to get their acts together, ha!

22. Superpowers/no powers Au: Here in the Darkness by @cuubism [M] Since we've got one 'super' character, and one 'normal' character in Dreamling, I chose cuubism's reverseverse fic where they've switched around. Good grief, it was good. Hope is a ray of sunshine, eh? He's just going around being lovely and offering hope, and being kind to Morpheus. And then gets captured and treated horrifically for a century. There's plenty of angst, Morpheus being snitty, then depressed, then a vengeful angel and then they get some softness. It's pure cuubism magic: it's fucking brilliant.

23. Only One Bed: The Chase by @imnotcrying-ipromise [M] I followed along with this story as it was being published early last year, and it was a wild ride of emotions and cliffhangers! Not only is there only one bed, there is a hunt across the country, a wonderful yet dangerous connection, and of course, some falling in love. It's such a fun and thrilling tale: a unique concept with a menacing villain. The sense of peril is real: for our canon characters and some lovely ocs we meet, too. And in the quieter moments there is a lot of sweetness and care between Dream and Hob. An excellent re-read this summer.

24: Soulmates: Destined by @arialerendeair [M] I love a good soulmate au, and this is a cracker by Aria. Featuring not one, but two rescues, a number of villains getting their just desserts, and visits to a Greek temple. Hob is, by turns, a bamf and a gentle, considerate man. He's spent 600 years trying to figure out what the letters of his soul mark mean, and when he does... Dream has spent countless years not even knowing he has a soul mark/mate; it takes a severance from the Dreaming to reveal it, and when he finds out...

[weixuldo]

Pancakes and Pastries

Linecook/Roommate! Anakin x GN!Reader

a/n: this is based on this lovely asks from @ddejavvu (link here). Just a preface, I didn't assign a gender becasue I wasn't sure what the ask implied (if u want me to change it I gladly will :) anyways, other notes will be at the end to clear up more abt the story.

You’re a terrible cook and only sell the baked goods at a small cafe downtown. Thankfully, your roommate, Anakin is an experienced linecook and is ready to make anything for you. Too bad he's a natural flirt, otherwise you might just find yourself falling for him.

Warnings: gn!reader, cursing, banter, no use of y/n

________________________

6:30 a.m 

The tiny brass bell above the cafe door dinged continuously as the working crowd came to grab a small bite before heading off to work. 

The cafe was filled with the warm aroma of coffee beans and fresh pastries. The display windows held rows of all types of treats; macrons, muffins, strudels, bagels, cookies, toast, and many more. A plethora of coffee makers and different flavorings to cater to each customer’s specific desires, lined the back counter.

Mornings were always pretty busy, you were in the heart of the city after all.

You had gotten up ungodly early to prepare for the day, so once you got everything ready and opened the shop you were pretty tired. But regardless of the exhaustion creeping in, you still had a full shift ahead of you so you needed to put on your best customer service face and seize the day. 

Latte, snickerdoodle cookie, iced chai tea with two pumps of vanilla, farmhouse roast with cold foam, 5 assorted macaroons, a slice of key lime pie, a frosted eclair, strawberry crepes. The orders came in waves and you prepared them all. 

You weren’t even scheduled today, but your boss called you at the last minute because the new guy got fired for stealing inventory (really what was he stealing? There was nothing but ingredients in the back), so you hauled ass down here.

Sadly today the staff joining you today were rookies, so you had to take orders and keep an eye on them too. 

It was bad enough that the bakers in the back were being lazy today, but to deal with new workers who didn’t know the system was even more frustrating. 

It was going to be a a long day.

3:50 p.m.

The cafe closed early on Sundays, so you flipped the “we’re open” sign over and got ready to close everything down when you heard a knock on the door.

Whoever that was would just have to stay disappointed because you were too tired to deal with another needy customer right now.

They knocked again and you had to collect a calming breath to make sure you wouldn’t go off on them when you turned around. Much to your surprise behind the glass door was your roommate….your handsome roommate.

Anakin Skywalker was an interesting guy. Deviously handsome looks, insane confidence, witty humor, and radiating charisma.

A few months ago you were apartment hunting but the rates in the city were way too high for you to pay alone, so you put out an ad for a roommate. A lot of the requests you got were from older people and you didn’t exactly feel the most comfortable as a young adult, just starting out, living with someone two or even three times your age. 

After a few days you stumbled upon Anakin’s application. Maybe his picture captured your attention… maybe you stalked his instagram to see if he was a serial killer (and to look at more of his pics).... Either way, the two of you obviously ended up living together. 

When he first moved in you were worried he would be bringing chicks back every night based on his stunning looks and flirtatious personality, but thankfully you were mistaken.

He was just a normal guy; go to work, come home, shower, eat, sleep, repeat. You didn’t mind that at all, because your routine was basically identical. 

A small blush rose to your cheeks as you headed for the door. His hair was held back by a folded black bandana and he had his own apron in hand. 

“The door was open, ya know” you said, motioning him into the establishment. 

“Oh, the sign was flipped, so I assumed…” he said, motioning to the door. 

“Mhmm”

“We are almost closed, but i’ll allow you one purchase, just cause i'm so nice” you teased. 

He walked up to the counter and surveyed the sweets, “oh, are you now? If you’re such a kind person, how about giving me a coffee cake on the house, sweetheart?”.

“Woah, woah, woah… you’re asking a bit too much there pretty boy” 

He leaned over the counter slightly with a smirk, “aww, you think i’m pretty”.

In response you playfully rolled your eyes, “yuck! It’s just an expression, Skywalker, don’t get an ego about it” .

He grabbed her beaten up wallet out of his back pocket and laughed, “You already know i’ve got an ego”. 

“That I do” you quipped back as you grabbed a coffee cake slice

“You love it though” he smiled as he handed you a ten.

Your eyes lingered on his forearm as he offered you the cash, he was a fit guy and the veins on his arms bulged just right; plus he was a line cook, so you knew that he had good dexterity in those pretty fingers too. 

“Whatever you say” 

You weren’t going to tell him, but you added your 50% off employee discount (since you were on the clock) just ‘cause. 

The cash drawer popped open with a ding and you went to hand him back his change.

“You heading back to the apartment?” he asked as he gathered his cake. 

“Yea, I’m gonna take a nap, I’m tired as shit. I’m guessing you’re about to go into work?” 

He drew his lips into a thin line, “yep, I’m livin’ the dream. Are you gonna get lunch?”

“Probably” 

“You should, food is important…Have a good afternoon though”. 

You returned the gesture and went back to wiping down the coffee bar when you heard a few clinks and the door closed shortly after.

Your brows furrowed at the speed at which he left, but to be fair his shift was literally starting in two minutes. You walked up to the register to lock it when you saw he had tossed the rest of his ten in the tip jar; a small smile spread across your tired face.

11:02 p.m.

Your sleep schedule was so fucked up from all of these awkward shifts so you were just waking up from your nap (if you can even call it that).

Before you could register what to do next, your stomach let out a hungry growl and you groaned. You forgot to eat lunch and missed dinner so you were starving; sadly, it was grocery shopping weekend for you and you were out of instant meals.

A sandwich then. 

You put on a small tank top and some gray shorts and headed to the kitchen. You hated cooking and you weren’t good at it either, so usually you had a salad kit, turkey dinner meal, or a premade acai bowl in the fridge. But since you were out of your usual options, you had to stick with a good ol’ PB&J.

You heard the click of keys in the door and you knew Anakin was back from his shift. Some of you wanted to dash back to your room and just wait until he went to shower to make it; you were lowkey intimidated by him. Before you could leave he noticed you and greeted you. 

“Oh, Hey Anakin, how was work?”

“It was fine, the Sunday night rush is insane though, I’m so glad I go in later tomorrow” he groaned, sitting down at one of the barstools in front of the counter. 

“You makin’ a little snack?” he asked, leaning over to see the ingredients in front of you. 

“It’s more like dinner and lunch-”

His eyes widened, “lunch?! I thought you were getting something on the way back?”. 

You shrugged, “I guess I forgot”.

“So you’re going to use a PB&J to supplement two missed meals?” he asked, bewildered. 

“Uh huh” you nodded. 

“No, no, no…” he muttered as he hopped off the stool and came around the counter beside you. 

He took the knife from your hand and began to put the spreads away. 

“Hey!” you exclaimed with a frown.

“Listen, If you’re going to break a two meal fast, I’ll be damned if I let you break it with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich” he huffed out a laugh. 

“Alright wise guy, what do you suggest instead? We both know I’m a horrible cook”.

He bent down and grabbed a pan from the cabinet and some ground beef.

“What are you doing?” you asked curiously. 

“I’m making you some food. Go ahead and sit down, I’ve got this” he said softly as he started up the stove.

“No, it’s really alright Anakin, you just got off of work. You really don’t have-”

“I want to,” he responded.

You stopped talking and took a seat as he maneuvered around the kitchen like he had been here his whole life. 

He chopped the beef and while it cooked he mixed spices to season the meat with. You watched him intensely; when he cooked his brows furrowed in concentration and the right one arched ever so slightly.

He lightly bit his bottom lip when he shook the pan to flip the tiny pieces of beef, and the tendons in his pretty hands flexed with every movement. 

You really shouldn't be thinking about your roommate this way, but sometimes it was almost impossible not to. Inside, you cursed yourself for even thinking you had a shot with him; he was just a generally flirty guy and acted the same way he did with you when you brought friends over (though he was honestly just being nice). Plus there was no way that you would be his first choice out of all of the people who wanted him. 

Anakin stood over the pan and shook out the seasoning he had just made to flavor the meat. Sure, he was tired from a seven hour shift, but this was for you; when it came to you, he would do almost anything. 

He wasn’t exactly sure when his little “crush” started, he just knew that it was definitely there. Maybe it was when he realized you worked in the cafe beside his restaurant, so he would pop in as often as he could to grab little sweets; ones he could easily make himself, but he chose to buy them just as an excuse to see you (much to the detriment of his wallet). 

Or maybe it was when he realized you discounted all of his purchases.

Or was it those late nights where the two of you would put on movies and share funny commentary whilst sharing a bowl of popcorn. 

Or was it simply because of the way you maneuvered through life? Your sunny disposition, wonderful personality, and genuine kindness… plus you were drop dead gorgeous.

Whatever it was, he was locked in… of course he still kinda flirted around, but he was a natural flirt. At this point he couldn’t imagine wanting someone as much as he wanted you, he was entrapped by the possibility of having you in the future. 

But of course, being the oblivious guy he is, he had no idea his feelings were reciprocated at all. So he chose not to act on his feelings out of fear of losing his spot in the apartment (if it went bad, you could kick him out and look for a different roommate to replace him). 

“It’s done,” he said, turning the oven off and putting the pan on a cool burner. 

“What is it?” you asked, walking around to his side. 

“It’s meat for a taco,” he said, grabbing some cheese, guac, and lettuce. 

“Oh, wow! That’s awesome, you made that so quick!” you exclaimed, looking at the pan. 

“Here, let me grab a spoon to get the meat out” he said passing behind you.

Your eyes widened when you felt his strong hands on your waist as he moved past; did you feel that right? Did his hand linger? And why were you feeling hot?

“Here” he handed you the spoon.

“Thanks Anakin, this is really sweet” you said, getting your taco ready. 

“No problem roomie” he said in a sing-songy voice.

“And with this you’ll have left overs so you can have lunch tomorrow. Don't forget again” he fake scolded. 

“Alright dad” you quipped back. 

He laughed and shook his head as he headed back to his room to take a shower. You observed his broad back as his shirt defined his shoulder blades and muscles while he walked. 

Fuck. You were getting way too attracted to him. 

___________________________

You woke up to a sweet aroma of pancake batter and fresh fruit. It wasn’t often that you and Anakin ever got up around the same time but apparently today was your lucky day. 

He truly loved the culinary arts because he never faltered with his ambition to prepare a quality meal. He cooked breakfast a lot, but most times you were already at work and just saw the dishes in the sink or only got to have a quick bite. Though, every so often, on a rare day like this, both of you were able to share a delicious breakfast together (he always made sure to make breakfast for you when he knew you were off). 

You walked out of your room with a yawn and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. Once you took a seat he handed you a freshly made plate and tossed some strawberries on top. 

“Look who finally decided to get up” he joked with a smirk. 

You yawned once more, “Listen master chef, if my boss didn’t call me in for every little inconvenience- maybe my sleep schedule might not be as fucked”. 

“Fair, fair” he nodded. 

“Thanks for breakfast, it looks yummy” 

“Of course” he smiled back

You looked at the plate with hungry eyes, it looked amazing, the only other thing you would add was-

“You want some of this, don't you?” Anakin smiled, flaunting a new bottle of whipped cream in front of you. 

“Ugh” you rolled your eyes.

“I know how you take your pancakes,” he laughed, “you’re very predictable”.

“Am I?” you said before trying to quickly grab the can from his hand. 

He laughed again and raised his arm higher, “that’s not gonna work and you know it.”.

“What can I do to get some whipped cream around here?” you cried comically. 

“Well this stuff isn't cheap and we’re going through the largest national whipped cream shortage in history” he said, trying to sound serious. 

“Oh, wow that’s tough” you returned with an unamused tone. 

“Isn’t it though?” he added. 

“I guess if you want some, you’ll just have to pay me” he looked away. 

“With what Mr.whipped cream enthusiast? We both make shit money” you exxagerated. 

“I may consider non monetary payment… possibly a kiss on the cheek?” he said.

“You want me to kiss you on the cheek?” you asked.

It probably came out more rude than you intended, it was only becasue you were flustered and your tones always got jumbled when you were nervous. 

“Well you know what they say, “kiss the chef”. But if you don’t want any whipped cream…” he stated; he was a little nervous that he put himself too out there (he was never the best at subtlety). 

“No, no! I want my whipped cream, so I will comply” you said proudly. 

“Alright” he smirked. 

…

… …

“Are you going to come collect your compensation or just stand there with the bottle in your hand?” you asked playfully. 

“Oh, right. How dare I make a customer wait” he smiled, walking towards you.

“You’re so full of shit, Skywalker '' you teased as he bent down so you could kiss his cheek. 

He felt butterflies when your soft, pillowy lips landed on his flushed cheek. How he had imagined that feeling. 

“Alright, here you are mam” he shot out a dollop.

“That’s it?!” you exclaimed, unsatisfied. 

“Each shot is one kiss” he shrugged, “national shortage…remember?”.

“Ugh” you rolled your eyes and continued to kiss his cheek until you were satisfied with the amount on your plate. 

“Alright, alright. Thank you for the great customer service, I'll be sure to leave a good review on yelp” you joked as you pushed him away so you could eat in peace. 

“Much appreciated, thank you mam” he smiled.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever” you responded, with a light blush tinting your cheeks. 

5:30 p.m.

Anakin groaned from his room before entering the living area with his scrunched up apron in hand. HE stopped in his doorway to stretch. 

“Man, I really don’t feel like going in today”.

You hummed in acknowledgement, “It shouldn’t be too busy, since its only a monday ''.

“Yeah, I hope so” he said, putting his work shoes on that he kept by the door. 

You glanced over your shoulder to look at his muscles rippling as he tied the laces; it was mesmerizing. 

He stood and you whipped your head around quicker than you thought was possible. 

“Alright, I’ll see you later. It’s my week for trash right?” he asked, grabbing his keys.

“Mhm”

“Ok, I’ll take it out when I get back tonight. Don’t worry, I won’t forget” he smiled before waving a small goodbye and shutting the door. 

Something about him was just so homely, he was so sweet and thoughtful; you felt that living with him was just natural at this point. 

________________

The restaurant was actually pretty busy when he first arrived, he saw a few party tables as he walked in. Great…

After clocking in, he got straight to work; manning the char grill, making sure all the orders were getting out in a timely manner, and goofing around with the other cooks. 

In passing one of the cooks asked how his crush was doing. 

“What do you mean?” Anakin innocently asked with a stupid smile on his face. 

“Oh, just the one you live with. Ya know, no biggie” he laughed. 

“Doing well, I made us breakfast this morning,” Anakin proudly stated.

___

All of the staff knew about Anakin’s not so little thing for you. He had been working at this restaurant for a while and was pretty acquainted with everyone. The cooks all knew abt you because everyone liked to talk in the kitchen, plus some of the other guys were curious about Anakin’s love life, seeing that he was so desirable (all of the waitstaff thought he was fine as hell). 

He showed them your instagram when the two of you first started living together and everyone in the kitchen cheered him on. 

The waitstaff on the other hand were not so thrilled that the handsome and mysterious line cook already had his sights set on someone else… someone who wasn’t them. Of course they were jealous, but when they got your insta from Anakin, they couldn’t even find anything bad to say about you;l you were stunning. 

Doesn’t mean they liked you though…

___

A new order buzzed onto the screen above that had all sorts of modifications; Anakin was about to groan, until he recognized something familiar…

Usually no one asked for a salad without tomatoes and cheese but instead with rice, cucumbers, raspberries, strawberries, and chicken- or cinnamon on their mashed potatoes; there was only one person he knew who ever ordered such a peculiar combination.

You.

The waitress who rang in the order walked by and Anakin caught her attention. 

“Hey, the person who ordered thi-”

“Yeah, I know. They’re such a pain. Like, at this point, just make it at home if you want so many modifications” she rambled

He then described your appearance to her and asked if the customer fit the description.

“Yea, sounds like ‘em” she said before carrying on with her work. 

He smiled, you came into his place on your day off. Suddenly he felt a warm sensation in his chest. 

The waitress came barreling back in and shouted Anakin’s name, “they apparently forgot to say they didn’t want-”

“Butter on the mash” he finished, already knowing what was coming next. 

“Yea, how’d you know?” she asked, confused. 

“That’s my roommate, I make this for us all the time back at home”.

She gave him a look before walking away to whisper something into another server’s ear. He knew they were then going to go out and judge you because they were jealous. Typical. 

He continued to make your plate with care and since it wasn’t busy, even spent time drawing a little hearts with the cinnamon and salad dressing (not very subtle Anakin). 

The other cooks notice and start making fun of him and he playfully starts winding up a rag to snap at them. 

Once your food has been run he slipped out of the kitchen for a “bathroom” break; obviously everyone knows where he’s going.

He walks out into the front house and is immediately relieved by the cooler AC in there, next he scanned the tables and booths until he spotted your familiar face.

Soon enough he offers himself a seat in the booth opposite of you. 

”Anakin!” you exclaim, “You scared me”.

“My apologies Sunshine, Just thought I’d come out and see my favorite customer” he said before winking. 

“How’d you even know I was- “ you began before you looked down at your plate and realized. 

“Yea, not many people are out here ordering such a peculiar combo” he teased. 

“I should have known it was you who made the plate, well with the hearts and all. That must take a lot of time, they were really precise” you said, taking a sip of your water. 

He laughed before answering, “I reserve those for very special guests'' (he only did those when you came in). 

“Well, I wonder if you do this to persuade certain “people” to cut back on your rent for the month” you arched a playful brow. 

He clenched his chest and looked offended, “Of course not! I would never do such a thing”.

You laughed at his stupidity. 

He loved making you laugh, it was one of the sweetest sounds he had ever heard. 

You saw a few other cooks poking their heads around the wall that divided the kitchen from the seating in curiosity. 

“I think your co-workers want you to hurry up” you smiled, pointing towards the entrance to the kitchen. 

He let out a sigh, “I guess so”. 

As he stood you thanked him for stopping by; “My compliments to the chef” you teased. 

“I am always at your service” he dramatically bowed before jogging to the back. 

When he left you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Your heart was racing… you were in too deep (but so was he). 

Anakin spent the rest of the night happily making orders; he no longer cared he was at work, because you had just made his day. 

Everyone in the kitchen began to tease him because he had a certain glow to him and they all knew why. 

“When are you finally gonna go on a date?” someone asked him. 

“Yea, you seem pretty damn sure about this one” another butted in. 

He smiled to himself, “Soon guys. soon…”

***

a/n: The reader likes some weird ass combos lmfaooo. Basically these two are both missing the point that the other likes them. Now to clear up some things, I know cafe's are usually open all day but I needed it to close early for the plot. Also, I worked at a steakhouse and modeled Anakin's work as such just cause its what i'm most familiar with (Ironically I don't eat meat lol).

[prismaticpichu]

*clears throat* Sephiroth is on trial in an ace attorney ass courtroom, how do things go?

ANON I AM HUGGING YOU SO FUCKING HARD YOU HAVE NO IDEA 🤣❤️💖 YOU GET IT LOL!!

~

Judge: *pounds gavel thrice* Court is now in session for the trial of Mr. Sephiroth…

Judge: …!

Judge: Hmm. That is quite bizarre…

Edgeworth: Is something wrong, your honor?

Judge: Ah, yes, well… Our defendant doesn’t appear to have a last name.

*a heavy silence looms in the courtroom*

Edgeworth: …Our defendant has a more than complex background in deference to familial ties, your honor. He doesn’t currently have a legally documented surname.

Edgeworth: Are you serious? We haven’t even commenced the trial yet!

Phoenix: *pounding hands on desk* Maybe so, Edgeworth. But do you really think we can begin when we can’t even have the foundation of such basic information?

Edgeworth: …?! What are you babbling about?

Phoenix: *brandishing a document* I’m talking about, of course, the nature of my client’s name!

Edgeworth: …?!?!?!

Phoenix: You stated just moments before that, quote, ‘He doesn’t currently have a legally documented surname.’”

Edgeworth: Correct! The likes of which is a documented fact.

Phoenix: …*placing his hands on his hips as he smirks* Is that so, Edgeworth? Because if that truly WAS the case… then what is the document I have HERE!

Edgeworth: …?!?!?

Phoenix: *smirking still* I thought you might say that. Well… let me enlighten you all about a little something: just earlier, I stopped by the ShinRa labs in order to gather as much information about my client as possible. While there, I happened to stumble upon something very interesting. Something that, frankly… *his smirk deepens* Will shoot your little ‘fact’ right down where it stands.

Edgeworth: What is the meaning of this…?! WRIGHT.

Judge: Umm… gentlemen, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but… we have a trial to—

Phoenix: *brandishing the papers once more* Ladies and gentlemen… I would like to correctly introduce the name of my client…:

Phoenix: Mr Sephiroth Crescent, the surname of his mother——Lucrecia…!

Phoenix: …

Edgeworth: …

Judge: …

.

.

.

Sephiroth: …I—I believe you are mistaken, Mr Wright; my mother’s name is—

Phoenix: Jenova?

Sephiroth: …?!

Phoenix: I read all through the files, Sephiroth. All the experiments. And I’m afraid, as much as it hurts to say… that your father, Professor Hojo, has seemed to have lied to you since the very beginning.

Sephiroth: …

Phoenix: (poor guy looks so wounded…) *ahem*—

Edgeworth: Wright! I find this information completely irrelevant to the murder at—

Phoenix: Like I was saying… Hojo, your father figure, he seemed to have created a false identity of your mother… And manipulated you in order to conceal the real truth of your identity.

Sephiroth: My… identity?

Phoenix: *nodding* Yes. Lucrecia, you see… was the name of your mother. Your real mother. Your real mother who, in spite of everything… loved you to pieces, Sephiroth. Loved you so much that on the hospital bed she just wanted to hold you, just to tell you she-

Edgeworth: …Congratulations, Wright.

Phoenix: …What?

Edgeworth: Do you SEE your client right now…?!

Phoenix: …

Phoenix: …!

*Sephiroth, head buried into the defendant’s stand, his entire body trembling with the stifled weight of tears*

Sephiroth: Mother… mother… m… o…th..er mom… I love you too…

Phoenix: …

Edgeworth: …

Judge: …

.

.

.

Judge: Well…

Judge: This poor man certainly doesn’t look like a murderer to me

[thetriumphantpanda]

Writing's On The Wall | Agent Whiskey (One Shot)

A case of mistaken identity. A spy who should know better. Another spy who knows how to get what she wants. An apology in the only form Agent Whiskey knows how. A night neither of you will forget in a rush.

Pairing | Agent Whiskey x f!reader

Word Count | 2.8k

Warnings | Alcohol consumption, SMUTTY SMUT, oral (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex, a knife is mentioned but not in the context of the smut. Lots of flirting. Reader has an accent described but no physical description apart from the colour of her lipstick, no use of Y/N.

Authors Note | This idea has been rotting my brain so I had to get it down on paper. It actually turned out better than I could have expected. This is probably the best smut I've ever written, I hope you agree. I hope you enjoy it! If you do, please consider giving me a follow, liking the post or reblogging. It all helps.

Main Masterlist

The juice of the orange slice burst onto your tongue as you chewed it. Fished from the dregs of your negroni it had the bitter taste from the alcohol, but still acted as the sweet treat you wanted. The bartender swiped your empty glass and replaced it with a freshly made drink, one you hadn’t asked for. 

“Compliments of the gentleman at the end of the bar.” He informed. 

You turned your head in the direction the bartender had pointed to see the man who’d had his eyes on you all evening raise his glass of whiskey towards you. You shot a sultry smile in his direction, lifting your own glass in a kind of long-distance cheers before taking a sip. You wiped the red stain of your lipstick from the rim, rubbing your thumb on the napkin on the bar. 

You watched intently as he stood, glass of whiskey in hand, and walked towards you, “I hope you don’t mind some company,” His American accent floated to your ears, “A beautiful woman like you should never sit alone.” 

“I like my own company,” You replied in your heavily accented English, “But I suppose I can make an exception for you.” You rested a hand on his arm that was placed on the bar. 

“What brings you to Budapest?” He asks, “Business or pleasure?” 

You look him up and down, the situation dripping with the sexual tension you thrived on. Slowly dragging your eyes down from his face and over his perfectly tailored suit, catching his eyes as he did the same to you. He was mentally undressing you of your slinky black dress in his mind and you knew it. These men were all the same. 

“Both.” 

He raises his eyebrows at that, “What kind of business?” 

“Well, now, if I told you that I’d have to kill you,” You retort, your face dropping all pretense of the previous flirting between the two of you. You watched as he swallowed nothing, his Adams apple bobbing before you let out a laugh, “Lighten up, you Americans are all the same, it was a joke, but my work is dull, and I would rather not waste time talking about it.” 

He laughed along with you, but joined in a beat too late, just enough to make himself feel awkward about the situation. You picked up the negroni in front of you, draining it down in three long sips, slamming the empty glass on the bar. 

“There’s been a distinct lack of pleasure from my side,” He admits, going back to dragging his eyes over your body, “I hope you’ve had more luck than me.” 

A smirk falls back over your red painted lips, “Well that will never do, are you staying here?” You gestured to the bar in the hotel. 

“I am.” He replied simply. 

“Maybe you’d like to show me your room?” You winked as you stood from the bar, watching out of the corner of your eye as he finished his drink, leaning over the bar to tell the bartender to put both his and your drinks for the evening on his room tab. 

You were already stepping into the elevator when he caught up to you. He pressed the number for his floor before settling back against the wall, his hand coming to rest at the small of your back, “I don’t even know your name.” 

“Maybe that’s for the best,” You shrugged as the elevator came to a stop on his floor, “Passings ships in the night and all that,” You could see that he wanted to press you, but the doors opened, “Lead the way.” You motioned for him to step out in front of you. 

Following down the hall behind him you couldn’t deny the back of him was just as delightful as the front had been. His suit was cutting down all his best lines and you could swear he’d asked for his trousers to be tailored too small because there was no way any respectable man would pick trousers that showed off his ass like this man was. 

He stopped in front of a door, fishing keys from his pocket to unlock the door, motioning for you to walk in first, which you did. 

As soon as you were through the door of his bedroom, you felt yourself propelled against the wall, knife pressed dangerously close to jugular vein. Your lips grew into a smirk as you watched Agent Whiskey, face looking like the cat who got the cream. 

“Put the knife away,” You spoke, dropping the vague European accent you’d been putting on all night in favour of your actual British one, “Agent Whiskey.” 

Confusion flashed across his features, knife still pressed into your neck, his body still dangerously close to yours, “Agent Lancelot, Kingsman.” 

Dropping the knife from your neck, you couldn’t help but stifle at laugh at his expression, now one like a child who had opened their last Christmas present expecting it to be the thing they’d asked for all along, to find it was just a pair of socks. Defeat. 

“See, this is why women make the best agents,” You mused, walking into his room, nicer than yours, you’d have to have a word back a base, “Because we don’t think with our cocks.” 

The silence was palpable but a welcome change from his constant chatting downstairs. He was handsome, but that southern drawl was grating after a while, “What about the real Irina?” He asked, referring to the real reason you’d both been there. A Russian agent with an alleged briefcase full of documents your government’s both wanted. 

“Oh you don’t have to worry,” You smirked, turning to look at him, “I put enough drugs in her drink before you’d even arrived that she’ll be out until tomorrow morning at least.” 

He stood in the middle of the room with his hands on his hips looking completely lost, “So what now?” 

You let out a hearty laugh, “I think you should take my clothes off.” 

His eyes widened in shock, which earned a shrug from you, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Whiskey stated. 

“You almost slit my throat; I think you owe me an apology.” 

You faced him, eyes staring straight into his own as you reached behind you to unzip your dress. You pulled the shoulders down just enough for it to fall from your body before side stepping out of it, leaving you in just your underwear. You sit yourself down on the chaise in front of the window, spreading your legs obscenely wide, “You’ve gone awfully quiet on me Agent, come on.” 

He takes off his hat, placing it carefully on the desk before he drops to his knees in front of you, hooking your thighs over his shoulder. You could feel his breath on the lace covering your pussy and you couldn’t deny it was driving you mad. He pressed an open mouth to your thigh, switching between chaste kisses and running his tongue along the skin of your thighs. 

“Can’t believe I’m about you eat your pussy before I’ve even kissed you.” He mused, moving the lace of your panties to bare you pussy to his mouth. 

He was teasing you. Mouth placed just out of reach so you could feel his breath on your pussy, even when you moved your hips to try and find what you wanted, it wasn’t enough, his big hands holding your hips steady, exactly where he wanted you. 

“You’re meant to be apologizing,” You breathed out, “Not teasing.” 

“You brought this on yourself,” He spoke, looking up at you, “You knew exactly what you were doing out there.” 

“Just shut up and eat me out, Agent.” 

Your hand flew to tangle in his hair, dragging it towards your pussy whilst moving your hips up. Both movements together had his mouth bumping against your sex. His hands gripped at your hips, pulling your ass off the chaise, tongue darting out between your folds. He pulled back, groaning at the taste of you, like you were the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted, before he dove back in, using the pad of his tongue to drag along your folds once more, stopping briefly to lick at your clit. 

Moving his hands from your hips, he pulls back just enough to pull your panties off before his face is back where it was, hands spreading your pussy wide for himself. His tongue focuses in on your clit, moving slow circles over it as your hips bucked into his face, adding to the friction. He was slow and methodical with his mouth, using the tip of his tongue to draw circles over your bundle of nerves and then using the full length of his tongue to drink your wetness from your weeping core like a man who’d gone thirty days without water in the desert. The sounds of his slurping between your legs was frankly obscene, your chest was heaving from not being able to catch your breath. You needed more. 

“Fuck.. please…” You begged, “Put your fingers inside me.” 

Without dragging his mouth from you he did as you’d asked, slipping two fingers into your slick pussy without warning, earning a fully-fledged moan from your throat. They were thick and moving in and out of you at a languid pace as his tongue started to focus on your clit once more. The circles of the flick of his tongue and the curl of his fingers inside you hitting just where you needed had searing heat settling in your lower stomach. 

“Please don’t stop.” You groaned, hand fisting in his hair, not caring how hard you were pulling. 

You could feel yourself hurtling towards the edge of the cliff and you were practically aching for your release. Another few pumps of his fingers and the action of his covering your clit with his lips and sucking whilst the tip of his tongue still flicked across it had you slamming into your orgasm like a brick wall. 

A wail left your mouth as your sex pressed further into his mouth. You could feel yourself clenching around his fingers as your legs shook on his shoulders, stiletto heels digging into his back as he softly licked at your clit to ride you through the aftershocks. He dropped your legs from his shoulders, making sure you were watching him as he sucked his fingers into his mouth, licking your wetness from them as he stood up. 

Your chest was heaving as you tried to catch your breath, pussy clenching around nothing as Agent Whiskey shrugged out of his suit jacket and toed his boots off. His shirt was next, unbuttoned slowly enough for your insides to set fire to themselves with desire. Fuck, he was perfect under those clothes. Shirt discarded on the floor with your dress, he unbuckled his belt, dropping it to the floor with a clatter. Your eyes could see the outline of his hard cock through his trousers and your mouth practically watered at the sight. 

As he unzipped his trousers, your hand flew to your clit, rubbing in tight circles, if he was putting on a show then you would do the same. You were oversensitive and the attention you were giving your clit was bordering on painful, but your fingers sped up as his trousers dropped, kicked to the side and forgotten. 

“You gonna make yourself cum for me?” He asked, palming his cock through his briefs. 

“Do you want me to?” You asked, voice coming out almost as a cry. 

“I’d like nothing more.” 

Thumbs hooked into his briefs, and they too were discarded, revealing the most gorgeous man you’d ever laid eyes on naked. He took his cock in his fist and ran his hand up and down his length as your fingers brought you to your second orgasm of the night, the walls of your pussy fluttering around nothing as you worked yourself through the release you’d given yourself. 

“Looks like that pretty pussy is crying out to be filled.” His words were filthy, but you couldn’t deny he was right. 

“Judging by how hard you are, I’d say your crying out for somewhere to put that, maybe we could help each other?” You winked, standing on shaky legs to walk the few steps towards him. 

Hand placed on his chest, you pushed him back until his knees hit the bed, forcing him to sit down, his hands still fisting his cock. You pushed him by his shoulder, Agent Whiskey taking the hint, shifting so he was led on the bed. You wasted no time in crawling on top of him, grabbing both his wrists to pin them by his head as your wet sex rubbed against his cock. 

You let go of his wrists to reach behind you and undo your bra before they move to grip them once more, pinning him to the bed. You shifted your hips just enough that his cock was nudging at your slick heat, his hips bucking slightly with a delicious moan falling from his lips. If you hadn’t been so desperate for him to fill you then you would have spent more time teasing him, but you slowly sank your wet pussy down onto him. 

The two of you let out a salacious moan as he bottomed out inside of you. You took a few brief seconds to get used to the stretch of his cock inside of you before you moved your hips, dragging your pussy off his cock before slamming back down onto it. Your body was pressed flush to his and you dipped your lips to his neck, pressing a kiss to his pulse, leaving behind a perfect lipstick mark. 

“Fuck, you feel perfect around me.” He choked out, “But baby, you gotta move.” 

You let go of his wrists, using your hands on his chest to push you upright. His hands flew to your hips automatically, using them to drag your hips in a back-and-forth motion that had him hitting parts of you that you weren’t aware even existed. Moans were tumbling from both your mouths, mixing with the sound of his skin slapping against yours as he fucked into you from below. You grabbed one of his hands and dragged it between you. 

“One more,” You begged, “One more and you’re forgiven for almost killing me.” 

“Greedy little minx.” He replied, but obliged, using the pad of his thumb to rub those delicious circles on your clit. 

You could feel your pussy tightening around his length as it pushed into you, the fire in your belly telling you the inevitable was coming. The third orgasm blinded you. White spots clouded your vision as you practically screamed into the room, hands squeezing at whatever part of his body you could reach, no doubt your nails were leaving half-moon shapes on his skin. 

“Fucking hell baby,” He moaned as he continued his bruising thrusts into you, “That was perfection.” 

You could tell he was also close, his hips stuttering and his moans falling from his mouth quicker each time. He went to open his mouth, but you put a finger against them to silence him, “Inside me.” You answered for him. 

He was all but done then. A few more snaps of his hips and he was stilled inside you, you could feel the hot ropes of cum coating your pussy from the inside as he let out a low groan. You both took a moment to catch your breath before you pulled yourself off him, his cum working its way out of your pussy and down the inside of your thigh. 

You sauntered to the bathroom, feeling his eyes on your ass as you did, to clean yourself up. When you looked in the mirror your lipstick was smudged, and your hair had that perfect ‘just fucked’ looked to it that had you smirking to yourself. 

Agent Whiskey was already dressing himself when you emerged from the bathroom, so you followed suit, slipping your underwear back on. You pulled your dress on, touching his arm gently before turning around. His hands gently worked the zipper back up, a kiss pressed to the back of your neck. 

“I suppose we should go and get that briefcase.” He mumbled into your ear. 

“Hmmm?” You asked, turning around but taking short steps backwards towards the door. 

“Irina’s briefcase, with all the intelligence in it?” 

“Oh, yes,” You nodded in understanding, “You don’t have to worry, I took it whilst I was putting her to bed earlier,” A smirk fell across your lips as his expression changed once more. Fury at being bested, “We’ll be in touch.” 

With a slam of the door, you were gone. By the time Agent Whiskey had realized what you’d meant and yanked open the door to follow you, it was too late. The hallway was empty. He was in for a storm of shit when he got back, bested not only by a woman but from the agency they always seemed to be one step behind. Fuck.

[adrift-in-thyme]

Whumptober Day 9: Mistaken Identity

Read on Ao3

- Legend & Hyrule

- Summary: Legend is mistaken for Hyrule

CW for drugging, blood and injury (specifically to a character's neck), a character nearly suffocating, and a very near-death experience

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

The world is in flashes of light and color and sound. Muffled yells, orders he doesn’t understand – they collide, pounding against Legend’s aching skull.

Rough hands yank him into a standing position (he hadn’t even realized he had been lying prone on the hard ground). He stumbles, cursing.

What in Hylia’s name had happened to him?

He remembers bits and pieces. Flitting images, parts of memories that he can just barely snatch. He was walking through a dungeon, he thinks, and somehow had been separated from the others. And then he had come upon a chest and opened it…

Everything after that is hazy. Far hazier than the other memories are.

His befuddlement is infuriating. He’s the veteran of hero business. He knows everything but everything. Yet he can’t even recall how he ended up where he is. And he certainly can’t collect his thoughts enough to figure out an escape.

Ropes find their way around his wrists and ankles now. A gag pulls tight between his lips. He wavers and bumps against one of his captors’ hips. They shove at him, blurry faces leering.

“Take him outside!” One of them shouts. The sound reverberates through Legend’s head and he cringes.

By the golden three can they not be a little quieter?

Suddenly, the ground tilts, dipping as he rises without moving a muscle. In the next moment, he finds himself slung over someone’s shoulder like a bag of grain.

His sluggish mind struggles to comprehend. Dimly, he realizes he should fight back. Clumsily, weakly he tries. But his body is as uncooperative as his mind. Whatever runs through his veins is too potent to be pushed aside by anger and fear.

His captors laugh at him, the sound grating and infuriating. It brings to mind Agahnim’s patronizing cackles as he had shot beams of magic at his face.

“Don’t worry you boy,” someone sneers in his ear. “It’ll all be over soon. So unfortunate for you, though, that you won’t get to see him.”

More laughter. Legend shuts his eyes, willing the world to stop moving, stop tilting. 

“Indeed, and yet, it will be your blood that resurrects him. Intriguing isn’t it? That a hero possesses the power to resurrect Gandondorf.” 

Legend’s eyes fly back open, his blood running icy cold. 

What on earth…

He has heard tales along his journey with the other heroes, tales of a boy with blood that can bring back a great evil. But he had never heard enough to decide whether or not to believe it. And he certainly knows that boy is not him. 

A chill hits him as they leave the darkness of the building. If he squints he can make out the sky, lit by twilight’s glorious glow. It reflects upon the sand and cliff sides in shades of shell pink.

But he hardly sees it. Panic has surged through the haze now and he struggles, still feeble, still uncoordinated, yet more desperate than ever.

His blood is incapable of resurrecting that evil man. If it were, he would know. These people, however, obviously didn’t get the memo. And in order to try and achieve their dastardly goal, they undoubtedly will need to extract quite a bit of blood. Possibly, enough to kill him.

Legend would really rather remain alive.

His thrashing is as fruitless as before, though. All it earns him is a few grunts of pain from his captor, and a very unpleasant plunge down into the sand. He hits it with a muffled groan.

But seconds later he’s up again. Hands fist in his hair, dragging him into a standing position. Cool metal presses against his neck.

“You know the spell, don’t you?” Someone hisses. “Well, get on with it.”

A small group of the masked men band together a few steps away from him, muttering in a language Legend has never heard before. With every word their voices grow louder. With every word his heart beats faster. 

Whatever drug they had given him is slowly draining away and as it leaves, utter terror replaces it. He dares not fight now, however, not with the sickle that is biting at his throat. It will strike soon anyway, but some innate instinct forces him to prolong the seconds in which he isn’t choking on his own blood.

Every moment counts, he guesses, especially when you know they’ll be your last. Too bad he’ll spend them restrained by coarse ropes, a stranger’s grip, and the substance still clouding his mind; trembling from pain and cold and a nauseating mix of terror and fury. 

It has been a long time since he felt quite this helpless.

The chants grow steadily louder and take on an eeriness that sends shivers running laps down his back. And then one of the men raises his voice into a shout. Before Legend has a moment to prepare, his captor brings the sickle across his neck.

A stinging burn encases the spot. Blood floods his throat. Eyes blown wide with panic, Legend struggles, trying to drag in a breath through the metallic liquid he is suddenly drowning in. It’s as though he is on the sea once more, buffeted by wind and rain, choking on salty water. 

He can see it through blurred eyes, cascading down his chest in gory rivulets of red.

It’s going to stain my tunic, he thinks, dazedly. It’s a shame. I liked this one. 

Fingers brush roughly over the gash, gathering more blood. Cackles of sadistic glee ring in his ears. The chants continue their ominous rhythm as the world begins to go a dismal gray. 

Everything seems to swirl around him, mad and out of control. Faster and faster it goes as his panic builds, making him dizzy.

Then, abruptly, it stops.

“It didn’t work!” Someone shouts, voice echoing in the sudden stillness.

If he wasn’t actively bleeding out, Legend would laugh in their faces. But his grasp on anything resembling consciousness is slipping fast, his strangled breaths growing shallower, and distantly, dully, he knows it’s coming. It’s a wonder he has held on for this long.

Yet still he gasps like a fish on land, still he fights to keep his eyes open and the darkness at bay. 

He has to get back to his brothers and Zelda and Ravio. He won’t leave them, he won’t, he can’t…. 

“Maybe we need more blood!”

His back hits the sand. Legend writhes, trying to breathe past the cloth sticking to his lips, the iron flooding his lungs. Each breath gurgles, bringing in nothing but more liquid. The ground tilts dizzyingly. 

Then, pain rips through him anew as they carve a gash into his arm. A silent scream rises in his heaving chest and never comes out. Blood runs hot and thick, soaking his clothing, turning the sand red. It’s everywhere. He inhales it, tastes it, smells it. 

Light and darkness dance before him, a kaleidoscope of rainbow hues. 

My son, his uncle says and his kind voice is like a balm, soothing endless pain. It is time to go home. 

It is time to fly away, Link, Marin sings. And be free as I am. 

Legend tries once more to breathe. He fails.

“No!” 

Hands enclose his wrist. Magic jolts through him like an electric current, zipping through his body. It sears into his neck, red-hot with fury and determination.

Hyrule.

“Don’t give up, you can’t— ”

Another surge of power. The darkness begins to slip away and Uncle and Marin fade with it. Legend chokes on a sob, reaching out. 

Don’t leave me again.

“But it is time,” his uncle says again. “It is time to go home.”

Marin smiles, sweet and agonizing. “Go and be free.”

Be free. Be home.

“Come on, vet. Don’t leave me!”

Another hand reaches to him out of the darkness. As tears stream down his face and pain tears through him, Legend turns around, reaches out, and grasps it.

Light penetrates his vision. Faces float into his line of sight, some tear-streamed and pale, all worried. The faces of his brothers. 

Hyrule hovers inches from him, hands warm and real in his, fire and terror swirling in his irises, lips set in a thin line of determination. But when Legend’s eyes find his, his expression morphs into a tearful grin.

“Ledge?”

Legend’s lips lift in a small smile of his own. “H-hey ‘rule.”

The words are torture on his abused throat and the salt water draining down isn’t helping matters either. But then, Hyrule pulls him into a hug and nothing else matters.

The others join in seconds later. They’re all gentle, all cognizant of his still-fresh wounds, and their arms envelope him like a blanket.

Any other time this would be off limits entirely. At least, not without a big to-do about elbows in his stomach and breath in his face. But now, Legend doesn’t care. 

Pretenses and reputation be damned. He wants his brothers here, surrounding him, keeping him safe.

So, he buries his face in Hyrule’s shoulder. And he breathes.

[blasphemous-lies-and-deceit]

Flufftober Day 6. Mistaken Identity

"Well, hello there."

Michael glanced up from his box of files to see the familiar sight of Gerry at the end of the row of shelves, leaning casually to the side with his arms crossed over his chest. "Hi," he greeted casually, attention still caught by his work. He expected Gerry to come right over for a kiss and an embrace, as he usually did, but instead Gerry stayed where he was, positively leering at him.

"You must be Gertrude's new Assistant, aren't you?" Gerry asked lasciviously, so overt and over the top that Michael immediately caught on to his act and had to fight down the urge to laugh. "I don't think I've seen you around here before."

"Um, yeah." Michael tried to pitch his tone higher, more uncertain, like he'd been when he first started working in the Archives, before he'd met Gerry. He brushed some of his loose hair behind his ear, peering at Gerry with wide and innocent eyes. "Nice to meet you, are you another of Gertrude's Assistants?"

Gerry shook his head, a roguish smirk on his face. "She didn't warn you about me?" He pulled away from the shelf he was leaning against and sauntered forward, his eyes trained on Michael. If he didn't know better, Michael would feel very intimidated and flustered by his approach‒ but he did know better, and what Michael was really feeling was delighted glee and anticipation as Gerry grew closer. "I'm one of her freelancers. The guy she calls in for the <i>really</i> bad stuff."

"Oh," Michael breathed shakily, allowing himself to be herded back until he was pressed to the shelf at the end of the row. Gerry was gazing up at him, shoulders broad and standing tall, his smile confident and bold, and Michael wondered how their relationship would have come about if this was how Gerry had initially approached him. "That's, that's impressive. You must be very skilled."

As usual, one of his compliments nearly broke Gerry, but in a different way than usual. Michael could see that Gerry was struggling not to break character, fighting to keep up the smooth and confident facade, and he fought to keep a straight face as well. "That's right," Gerry agreed, stepping into Michael's personal space and reaching out to caress the back on his hand, fingers brushing the mark he had given him. Shivers broke out over Michael's skin, a lovely tingling conjured both by his lover and the fantasy they were sharing. "I could teach you some of those skills," Gerry offered huskily, slipping his fingers around Michael's wrist. "This is a dangerous job. You need to keep yourself safe."

Michael swallowed heavily, a sudden emotion choking his throat. He knew Gerry's words were intended as a flirtatious come-on, but if it had been the reality of their first meeting, and Gerry had immediately offered to teach him about the Entities to keep him safe, he would have been forever in his debt. Gerry knew how important that information was to him, how he probably would have been tricked or led astray without knowing anything about what was happening to him. Even though they were only pretending, his boyfriend still wanted to make sure he knew, and that meant the world to him.

"Th-thank you," he choked out, swaying towards Gerry as if drawn in by his confident aura. "Thank you for your offer. I appreciate it." He bit his lip, wondering if what he was about to say would break Gerry entirely. "I'm sure there's so much you can show me." Gerry's lips were twitching with the effort of keeping his expression straight, and Michael decided to go in for the kill. "I would love to experience your…skills."

That did it. Gerry choked out a laugh, which made Michael giggle, which broke both of them completely, falling into each other as they laughed helplessly together. Michael carelessly dropped his files to grab onto Gerry's arms, holding him up as Gerry laughed hysterically, tears running down his face. "Damn it," he gasped, his grin so wide and genuine. "I was doing so good!"

"You were," Michael giggled, ducking down to press his lips to his cheek. "I was really into it!"

"But you made me crack up," Gerry chided, catching hold of his chin to angle him down for a kiss, sloppy and uncoordinated from their smiles. "Damn you."

"You'll just have to try again," Michael eagerly encouraged him. "I really would like to see those skills you were talking about." Gerry snorted inelegantly, no doubt imagining what that demonstration would entail. Grinning madly, Michael pulled him in for an embrace, kissing him all over his face, fast and quick as Gerry continued to laugh under his assault. As fun as it had been to briefly pretend, as sweet as it was for Gerry to want to look out for him however he could, he was more than happy with their actual reality.

[beardedmrbean]

Penny McCarthy froze in her front yard as a van full of armed US marshals in bullet-proof vests pulled up in her front yard, screaming and swearing at her. She had no idea what was going on.

“Police! Don’t move, hands up,” one of the officers shouted, pointing his assault weapon at her. At one point they told the 66-year-old that if she turned around again she would be Tasered.

“Do you want to confirm who I am?” McCarthy asked the officers, per bodyworn footage later released by the US Marshal Service (USMS) and obtained by ABC15. “Put your hands behind your back, we’ll discuss this later,” came the reply.

The shocking incident, which took place in Arizona in March 2023 was, ultimately, a case of mistaken identity.

Police had been seeking a totally different woman – 70-year-old Carole Anne Rozak – who was wanted on an outstanding parole violation warrant from 1999 out of Oklahoma.

Rozak served prison time for all non-violent crimes. But according to federal court records also obtained by ABC15, she failed to report to any federal probation officer after she was released from federal custody in Harris County, Texas.

In the police footage McCarthy is heard asking the marshals multiple times if they know who she is but is consistently ignored. It was not until she was in handcuffs that officers finally told.

“Carole Rozak,” she is told, with McCarthy replying: “That’s not who I am.”

Despite McCarthy offering to provide proof that she was not Rozak, she was arrested and put in the back of the police van.

It later emerged in court hearings that federal agents had based the false identification on Facebook postings and “some aliases” that they had obtained. An Arizona federal judge dismissed the case against McCarthy, but not before she had spent time in prison over the mix-up.

According to the Deputy US Marshal Service in Oklahoma, a “glitch” caused them to believe that McCarthy’s digital fingerprints matched Rozak’s. This was later debunked.

A statement put out by the service read: “USMS continues to conduct a thorough review of actions taken by deputy US marshals regarding the fugitive investigation of Caroline Anne Rozak and subsequent mistaken arrest of Penny McCarthy.”

The grandmother is still affected by the incident.

“I am so fricking disappointed in my government, it’s not funny,” Ms McCarthy told ABC15, following the release of the bodycam footage.

“They did nothing but treat me like crap and lie to me,” she added. “Ths US marshals are above the law, that’s what this says to me.”

[thekingofthenameless]

Day 6: Mistaken Identity

Length: 2.2K

Cws/Tws: None

Still working on Day 5, but it should hopefully be here soon!

Merlin:

“Your Majesty?” He doesn’t raise his head from perusing the requests from the lords (they’re all bullshit, really, and Charlie would be laughing at them), knowing that Uther will take care of it. Did he really become that lost in thought? Enough for at least two people to enter the room without him noticing? Ugh, Charlie would’ve warned him, but his son isn’t on his way back yet. He would’ve gotten an update, and maybe he’s still trying to hunt something, since he hasn’t been informed about that either. What if he was drugged again? No. He wasn’t. He wasn’t. “Sure he wasn’t,” Kennard whispers, mocking. “Do you really want to take that chance?” “He’s fine, Kennard,” he replies, even though it doesn’t do anything, only makes it worse. “What if there was someone waiting for the perfect time to strike?” The orc responds, persisting. “There wasn’t,” he snaps, but he doesn’t believe himself. “Um… Your Majesty?” The voice asks again, and he looks up, confused, wondering why Uther hadn’t said anything. It’s only the two of them in here, actually. A boy of about fifteen years old has just barely entered the room, staring at him nervously. His helmet is tucked under his arm, revealing short, curly reddish-brown hair, pale skin, and gray eyes. His nose is hooked, with a slight bump near the bridge of it. He’s clearly still going through puberty, since he’s all arms and legs and his face has a mild case of acne. Wait- he doesn’t think that he’s Uther, does he? “Do you require something?” He asks gently, because he’s still Uther’s advisor and can handle whatever the boy- a new knight, requests. “Yes, Your Majesty,” the boy begins, and he’s barely able to keep a neutral face now that he knows he really has been mistaken for the king. “I was wondering where I’m going to be stationed? The captain- David- told me to come see you.” He lets his amusement show and stands, not wanting to keep misleading the boy. The blood flowing as a result makes him immediately regret it, and he fights back a grimace. At least he isn’t having cramps. For now. “Well, there’s one problem with that. I’m not the king.” He holds out his hand to shake, smiling, and the boy doesn’t take it at first. “I’m Merlin Ambrosius, his advisor.” “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, voice gone, dismayed and mortified. “He told me to come here-” “No, it’s all right,” he murmurs, still gentle. “You’re in the right place. Uther’s just… off somewhere. He might be with his brother.” It’s not a lie, and even if it was, at least it might help the poor boy’s embarrassment. The boy nods, and fortunately his words seem to help. “I-” his voice cracks, and his face flushes, but he pretends not to notice as the boy finally shakes his hand, looking down at it. “I’m Egbert.” “It’s good to meet you, Egbert.” Worry for his son begins to return, constricting his chest, along with not knowing where Uther is. A wave of nausea suddenly hits him, and he curses his body, curses the king for not being here so he can stay in bed until Cleansing Tide lessens, wishes Charlie was here so he could curl against him in case cramps do come. “Why don’t you stay here?” He suggests, relieved when his voice doesn’t betray him (or maybe it did, and the boy didn’t notice or was too polite to say so). “I’ll see if I can find him.” Egbert nods, and he smiles down at him before stepping out, shutting the door behind him. He takes a deep breath, trying to fight back the nausea so he can find Uther and contact his son. He should sit down since he feels unsteady on his feet, but Charlie isn’t here to force him and he can’t keep Egbert waiting. “Sweetheart, how’s the hunting going?” He asks, beginning to walk through the hallway. “It took me a while, but I found a couple of deer,” his son replies a moment later, and he feels ready to crumple in relief since he knows that Uther’s fine. “I’ll be back soon.” “That’s good,” he murmurs, and something in his voice does betray him now, or it’s because Charlie knows him as well as he knows himself. “You were worried?” His child asks gently.

He nods, realizing that’s foolish a moment later because he isn’t able to be seen. “…I’m sorry. I know it’s irrational.” “It’s not.” Considering what we’ve been through, he doesn’t say, but they both know. “I’ll be back soon,” he repeats, trying to get both of their minds off the past. “How have you been?” “Nauseous.” Charlie croons in sympathy. “Any cramps?” “No, not yet, thankfully.” “That’s good. Are you lying down?” “No, I have to find Uther since he’s disappeared off the face of the world. There’s a new knight who needs to be stationed.” His son snorts. “Good luck with that. I love you.” “I love you too,” he whispers, heart warming. Their telepathic connection ends as he reaches the throne room, opening the doors after smiling at John and Noah. And fortunately, Uther is here, because he is not in the mood to go searching throughout the castle for him.

“Uther?” he asks, approaching the throne. The king is conversing with Aurelius, who’s standing beside him, making him right, if unintentionally. Both brothers smile at him, and he tries not to feel uncomfortable at their gazes. It’s only two people, not a crowd, and he’s fine. He’s fine. “What is it, Merlin?” Aurelius inquires, and Uther raises his brows at his brother. “Who’s the king here?” He teases, making Aurelius just grin at him. The exchange makes him smile a little, and some of his nervousness eases. If only the nausea could. “A new knight has arrived, and he needs to be stationed.” He doesn’t tell them about Egbert’s mistaken identity situation. The boy was already nervous enough, and he doesn’t need any more embarrassment on his first day here. “Ah, all right,” Uther responds, standing. “Would you like to come, Aurelius?” His brother shakes his head. “I had some reading I wanted to catch up on.” Uther nods, and the two separate as the king comes beside him. “Where’s Charlie?” Aurelius inquires before he leaves. He makes a noncommittal gesture. “Out hunting. He’ll be back soon.” “Are you all right, Merlin?” Uther asks a few minutes later as they walk through the halls, and he flinches, startled. “I’m… feeling slightly under the weather,” he answers after a moment. “But I’ll be fine in a few days.” Uther doesn’t prod, thankfully, seeming satisfied with his answer. Soon they reach the great hall, and he lets the king enter first. Egbert is admiring the windows, seeming fascinated by them; he probably hasn’t seen stained glass before. He doesn’t think the boy is nobility, because he’s never been seen in Camelot at the balls (that he remembers, anyway, he’ll have to ask Charlie about that), besides his general nervous demeanor since arriving (but maybe that’s just his personality). “Egbert,” he calls, and the boy turns without being startled unlike him. “This is His Majesty,” he continues, nodding at the man beside him. “He’ll get you sorted.” “Your Majesty,” Egbert says softly, averting his gaze and kneeling. Uther lets him kneel for what he thinks is far too long (but maybe he’s overthinking again) before he commands, “Rise.” The boy does, and Uther studies him for a moment before inquiring, “Did David tell you where you were going to be placed?” “No, Your Majesty. He told me to come see you first.” “You’re newly knighted, correct?” “Yes, Your Majesty.” He doesn’t hear what Uther says next since Charlie’s voice enters his mind. “I’m back. Where are you?” He asks, and his heart swells. “I’ll be outside the great hall.” “- Merlin, do you mind taking him?” The king questions, and he didn’t hear the first part, but it doesn’t really matter, since Egbert will be placed under David’s care, with the other new knights, anyhow. “Of course not.” This is perfect, actually. He can introduce Egbert to Charlie now and not have him be scared by a giant dragon later, and Charlie wouldn’t have to be on guard around a newcomer. Uther smiles and slips away; to do what, he doesn’t know, but hopefully nothing else will come up and they can both have a peaceful day. He smiles at Egbert, beginning to walk to the gatehouse, and after a moment the boy follows him.

He feels Charlie’s presence a moment before his son comes around the corner, eyes lighting up when he spots him. Egbert gasps from beside him, and maybe he should have warned him about having a dragon as a familiar. Charlie, thankfully, doesn’t run towards them, padding forward slowly once he spots Egbert (he probably would’ve done it anyway). “I’m presuming he’s the new knight?” He asks, stopping in front of them. “Egbert, this is Charlie- Charlemagne,” he says to the boy, indirectly answering his dragon’s question because Egbert looks like he’s divided between being awestruck and terrified and he does not want this to end badly. Fortunately, Egbert hasn’t reached for his sword, only standing still. “Charlemagne?” Egbert murmurs after an agonizingly long moment, staring at his son. “He’s… your familiar, isn’t he?” Far more than that, he thinks; he nods. “Yes, he is. Did you… know he’s a dragon?” He murmurs, curious. How much had Egbert been told about the two of them, if it all? The boy nods, terror fading, finally tearing his gaze away to refocus on him. “I didn’t expect him to be so big,” he says, chuckling, and they both relax at the same time. This was already going better than expected. Egbert takes a step closer to Charlie, an awestruck grin on his face. “Would he allow me to touch him?” His dragon looks above the boy to meet his gaze. He shrugs helpfully. “It’s your choice.” “Very helpful.” But his son bends his head, and Egbert reaches up to gently stroke his muzzle with his free hand; Charlie closes his eyes, leaning into the touch. “He’s beautiful,” the boy whispers, and his son purrs while he stares, halfway between joy and disbelief. Egbert lowers his hand after a few more moments of petting. Charlie promptly pads over to him, bumping his head against his chest and purring loudly. He rests his own head on his son’s muzzle, stroking his jaw, and just for a moment, he allows himself to close his eyes. They pull apart to find Egbert smiling, and it’s… strange, to see someone reacting to them like this, and he doubts Charlie knows what to do either. He does know that they’ll have a conversation about it later, but later means he doesn’t have to worry about it now. He clears his throat; his dragon moves to stand at his left side. “Is it true he can talk?” Egbert asks as all three of them continue to the gatehouse, and he looks at his son, who really seems blasé about the whole thing, maybe because the boy will find out sooner or later. “Yes,” Charlie responds without preamble, and he fights the urge to sigh because Egbert having such a good reaction this whole time doesn’t mean that it won’t change when a dragon can talk. But Egbert just grins, eyes bright with awe again. “That’s incredible.” It doesn’t take long for them to finish the journey; David is already there, waiting. “So you saw the king, Egbert?” “Yes, sir.” “All right. Well, you’ll be under my care with the other new knights,” the captain continues nonchalantly; Egbert seems confused again. “Wait… then why did I have to see His Majesty?” “Just a formality,” David laughs, patting his shoulder. “Let’s get you settled in.” He nods at both of them before steering Egbert away, and Egbert waves at them before disappearing around the corner. Charlie dips his head to nuzzle his shoulder, purring. “What now?” “Honestly, a nap sounds nice,” he murmurs, suddenly exhausted.

His son nods in agreement (and he thinks it’s because Charlie just wants him to sit the fuck down), purring softly. He reaches up to stroke his dragon’s shoulder, suddenly remembering how small he used to be. Charlie doesn’t see the nostalgia most likely on his face since he’d have to turn his head to look at him fully, but he wouldn’t tease him about it anyhow. It seems like ages before they finally reach their room, and he takes off his boots, barely undoing enough of the bedsheets for him to get in before he flops onto it. It isn’t dignified in the slightest, but Charlie doesn’t care, and no one else is around. His dragon jumps onto the bed, changing sizes briefly so he isn’t inconvenienced, shifting back after settling into his position, head laid against his chest and body stretched out. His pillow is cold, and Charlie is so, so warm and soft, the advantage of having a dragon as a cuddle partner, and as he falls asleep, hands on his son’s head, he thinks that life couldn’t be any more perfect.

Taglist: @gaylightisminetocommand, @the-arson-author-gamer

[shade-pup-cub]

Had a request (a year ago) for my fic "Same, Yet Different" to be extended and I finished the first chapter today and posted it. Guess the name... yep, "Same, Yet Different (EXTENDED)" easy🤣

Anyhoo... thought I would share the first bit on here. Hope ya enjoy!

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

Summary: The chain is for some ungodly reason dropped off in Wild's era, but pre-Calamity. The jokes the Goddess was pulling on them now were getting sick and twisted. With no choice, they head to the buzzing castle. It only gets worse from there for Wild as he is forced to face his past in a different light. But in the end, even after the Chain leaves this form of Wild's era, death is always owed it's dues.

“Portal!” That was the fifth one in a week and the groans that came from literally all of the Chain when Time announced it, was enough to show that they were tired of it.

Reluctantly the nine went through in pairs and were met by a beautiful morning sun, bright colors from the grass, trees, flowers and buildings. The amount of people buzzing along the streets reminded the group of ants scurrying around looking for food.

Wind smiled at the sights. “This place feels familiar, but new! Anyone recognize it?”

“Master Sword is gone!” Sky shrieked. The others looked around to see if it had dropped nearby, but it was Wild who spoke up. “This isn’t right… We shouldn’t be here.”

Twilight and Warriors, closest to him, turned at his words. “Wild?” Wars asked first.

Wild’s eyes grew wider. “This isn’t supposed to happen. We can’t be here…”

“Cub, do you know where we are?” Twi made sure not to touch Wild when he was like this or else the scarred hero would probably take off sprinting.

“Not where… when.” Wild felt faint as he shakily took a step closer to the edge of the hill. “This is my era, but pre-Calamity.”

The heads of the others slowly turned from Wild, to the world ahead of them. “Should we go to the castle?” Sky asked, breaking the silence growing heavier over them now that the reasoning for the sword going missing was clear.

Wild shook off his shock for the moment. “I don’t know how safe that will be, but we need answers and know what day it is. Don’t ask questions and keep your ears open.” He pulled his hood over his head, concealing his identity the best he could. There would be too much explaining to do if someone even slightly though they knew who he was.

That hope went out the window quickly as they trekked through Castle Town. People were whispering about the Calamity’s arrival and how Zelda’s was going to be ruling over a kingdom of nothing soon if the evil wasn’t stopped. Wild tried to ignore the gossip as he remembered the defeated look on Zelda’s face when her father said similar words to her. Not only that, people had noticed them.

Wind took an extra step towards Warriors. “Uh, guys, we are being followed.”

Wild softly, tensely, responded, “Nine men of ranging ages who are armed to the teeth, right before the end of the world. I figured this would happen.” Approaching the gate was where Wild’s nervousness spiked. Spears crossed at the entrance. “Weapons left at the gate if you want entry.” a guard said.

“Like that is ever going to happen.” Legend scoffed.

“What business do you have?” the second guard asked with the same board tone.

Time took over, setting a hand on Legend’s shoulder as a warning for him to stay quiet. “We have urgent business with the King. We wish to have an audience with him.”

“Weapons stay here if you want that.” the second guard said, repeating the rules as if he was a broken record. It was then that he looked at Wild and Wild knew what he was looking at, his tunic. “Captain Link? Why are you with these men and not the Princess?”

Wild took two steps back . “I believe you have mistaken me for someone else.” His back hit a solid wall, but that wall was a person.

Before Wild could even take a breath, his hood was ripped down from his head. “Impersonator! Seize them all!!”

The fight that broke out was short lived since Wild hadn’t had the chance to defend himself. He grabbed by the hair, yelping at the painful tug on his scalp and thrown to his back. The knight that did this swiftly stomped his heel into Wild’s chest, shoving all the air out of him as the feeling of his sternum began to crack. He tried to suck in the precious air, but only got dirt as he was forced face down into the ground.

The second a sword was placed at Wild's throat, Sky hollered out, “Stop!” Seven heroes went still, following Sky’s wide eyed expression to where Wild was face down, a boot between his shoulders and a claymore pressed to the side of his neck.

Weapons, adventure pouches, jewelry -Legend was pissed-, armor and Sheikah Slate were seized without question. Even Twilight’s crystal was taken, but placed in his pouch when he shouted that it was too dangerous to hold. Surprisingly the guard believed him. Once they all were stripped and bound, they were escorted into the castle.

Everyone’s eyes took in the grand halls and rooms that they all knew to be destroyed by the Calamity. The one room Wild didn’t want to enter, was where the king was. The Sanctum. Oh how he hated that room and wished it would burn if only to prevent the abomination that will inhabit it wouldn’t get the chance to. At the center of the room stood the King and his advisors, talking over what could be assumed to be the upcoming events.

“Your Majesty.” The knight holding Wild said as they walked in, stopping a good distance away.

“I am busy. If it does not contribute to how we beat the Calamity, it is not important.” The King kept his back to the new arrivals.

“We caught these men trying to enter the castle. One is impersonating the Hylian Champion.”

The King straightened up with those words, quickly turning around. His eyes roamed over the other eight before taking a step towards Wild. “So, Aster has upped his Dark Magic game. Creating hollows was not good enough for him, so he created you. Too much magic poured into you, left you scarred.”

Wild blinked up at him, confused on who Aster was or what even a hollow was. “Your Majesty, I was not created by whoever yo-” Wild doubled over with a cough, gasping for air.

“You do not speak unless granted that right!” Wild was getting fed up with the knight holding onto him.

The King stepped away. “Who among you is this group's leader?”

Wild begged that none of them would speak up, but when a metal covered fist collided with his jaw, Time spoke. “I am, your Majesty.”

“How long have you known this boy?”

“Long enough. We only recently arrived though.”

“Arrived? Where did you come from?”

“Termina.” Time’s tongue was quick, but would it work?

“Hmm.” The King grabbed Wild by the chin. “How do you know that he isn’t a Yiga and is trying to infiltrate the castle by joining your little band of boys? Seems unlikely to be any other reason.”

“Just throw a banana at him and see.” Wind scoffed quietly. Unfortunately no one found it funny. Wind let out a yelp and a cry as he was gripped by the hair and brought up to his tiptoes.

“Leave him alone!” Warriors snapped.

“We are all heroes from different eras and have been sent on this journey to stop the one called Dark Link. We don’t know how we got here, but we are here to help.”

The king held up his hand, a look of disgust on his face. “I will not have lies spewed from the mouths of boys. I refuse to believe that any of you are anything more than shapeshifting Yigas. Take them away and separate that one from the rest.” He was pointing at Wild.

“No, wait, we are telling the truth!” Hyrule hollered out.

Wild was trying to think through the panic.

Sky thrashed. “Where is the Princess and her knight? We could prove all of this if we could just see them.”

Unamused, the King stepped away while saying, “They are no concern to you, boy. The Calamity will be upon us in a few days and my daughter’s sealing powers have not awakened. Those two are doing what needs to be done.”

At that, Wild shouted, “It won’t matter! Nothing she does will work, nothing worked back then except one thing and by that point it was too late! Please, King Rhoam, listen to me. I can help, I have already lived through it all.”

The King’s scowl grew darker, “You claim these things to be true, but I will not listen to Ganon sympathizers, spies against the crown.”

“The Calamity takes over on Zelda’s seventeenth birthday. If that is in a few days, that means nearly a week you ordered me to be flogged in the street due to Zelda getting a cut on her cheek while seeing Urbosa.” Wild could see the shock in his brother’s eyes.

“Everyone was there for it, so I’m sure you heard about it.” The King stopped and turned back around. “Maybe you would like to have the same fate tomorrow at noon for your insolence. Take them away.”

Rage built up inside the feral hero. How could the King be so blind? He screamed out towards the man he learned to dislike through his memories. “No wonder she hates you! You are sentencing her to one hundred years of hell, trapped with Ganon in this very room. You are a heartless tyrant of a King!” He spat at the King’s boots. The man still holding him, turned and collided his knee to Wild’s midsection.

“Wild, he isn’t going to listen to anything we have to say, even when it is all true. This is just going to make it worse for you.” Time’s voice held a calmness to it, but his eye was holding pure fire.

“Should listen to your elder because if you continue, there’s a sword waiting for your neck tomorrow.” With the King’s final words to them, they all were taken to the Castle Town Prison.

The first eight were told to peacefully walk inside the single holding cell while a blade was once again held to Wild’s throat to give some incentive to do as they were told. When they had, Wild was walked into his cage of a cell, violently shoved into the back wall where a small window with bars stood. His face hit the harsh stone, pain flashing quickly through him until it was only his nose that clearly hurt. Warmth trickled from his nose and he didn’t bother to remove it as he curled into a tight ball in the corner furthest from his brothers.

It broke Twilight’s heart to see his cub like this. It had been four months since Wild joined the pack of heroes and every day they all in their own way tried to help the wild child come out of his shell. It took time and several long nights of Twilight staying pressed to the boys back for Wild to start accepting physical contact (outside of Twi/Wolfie who he openly would tackle to the ground as if they were wolf pups, or Wild would plop into Twilight lap just to be annoying) and even longer for Wild to actually talk to them outside of short signing. It was like starting over from the cub's adventure since Twi had been there in his wolf and Hylian form for him. Twilight went to the bars that separated them, placing his forehead against the cold metal. “Cub, can you talk to us?” He sighed when Wild tried to make himself even smaller. “Or at least come closer so I can take a look at ya?”

That got the other to stir some. Wild’s blue eyes, rimmed red, looked over his scarred arm. Twilight reached out his arm through the square bar openings, beaconing Wild to come closer. The younger didn’t hesitate to stand on wobbly legs and got to the comforting embrace waiting for him. He collapsed against the bars, clinging to Twilight as much as he could.

“Hey, we are going to figure this out, one step at a time.” Twilight reassured as he took the freshly torn bottom at Times cream tunic that was offered to clean the boy’s face.

Face cleaned of blood as best as it could be and plenty of time gone by for the hero to calm down, a second hand began to rub Wild’s scalp. It wasn’t something common for Time to do, but Wild was a sucker for that kind of affection and Time wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to make sure Wild knew that he was cared for. Malon would kill him… “Cub, do you mind if we ask a few questions so we better understand a few things?”

Sniffling, Wild nodded, “Sure.”

Legend didn’t wait a single second to ask his frustrated question. “Is the King always that much of a fucking asshole?!” Wild snorted and Legend took that as a win.

“Yes, always. He is worse with Flora, but only with words. He would never lay a hand on her or let anyone else.”

“H-he had you publicly punished?” Hyrule looked mortified.

“Twice.”

Shuffling closer to Warriors, Wind grabbed the pate tunic. When they were stripped off all armor and chainmail, the guards didn’t bother to hand the top tunics back, leaving some of them in basic under tunics. “What for? There can’t be any good reason for such a thing, you’re too nice.”

It warmed Wild’s heart to hear that that’s how Wind felt about him. “The first time was because I verbally couldn’t answer the King. He took it as I was being disrespectful. My Dad told him what was really the issue and the King blamed my parents for my lack of speech when it was truly the inability to.”

Time’s hand stilled suddenly. “Wild, was your family alive during pre-Calamity?”

There was no chance to answer the question when a voice from Wild’s past was heard loud and clear. “Where is he?!” Wild’s breath hitched.

“Cub?” Time asked with no little amount of concern.

“He’s here.” Wild breathlessly whispered and pulled the hood of his cloak that somehow didn’t get taken away, over his head.

The guards outside continued to talk. “Who, Sir?”

“The boy everyone keeps saying is impersonating my son!”

“Captain, the King gave explicit orders for no one to interact with these men.

“Does it look like the King is here right now? Move out of my way and this stays a secret, understood?”

“Y-yes Captain, of course.”

Keys jingle into the iron door unsteadily. A man, near Time’s height, walked proudly through the door, stopping at the cells holding the heroes. The man looks similar to Wild how he would look in fifteen years or so. Honey blonde hair cropped at his shoulders pulled half back, light scruff and blue eyes that could look through a man’s soul. Nine pairs of eyes followed every movement the man made towards Wild’s cell.

Twilight felt nails dig into his arms as the man opened the cell door, taking a few steps in.

“Link?” The man knelt down only a few feet away when Wild flinched. He could see the grip the boy had of the other’s arm. He sighed, “If you are truly the future version of my Link, would you please look at me?”

Wild’s heart rapidly drummed in his chest. What would his father think of him if he saw the scars? Would he actually believe anything they said? He took a needed breath and looked up from under the hood.

Their eyes met and the man smiled. “I know those eyes. I’m sure everything is confusing right now, but I am willing to listen if you would like to explain things to me.” When Wild opened his mouth to speak, he was stopped. “You can talk?”

“Not until I defeated Ganon, could I properly talk outside of a few basic words. It was as if my voice was tied to the evils being reborn to Hyrule. I-I’m not very good with explaining any of this stuff. It is normally done by the others, but we nine were brought together to track down the one we have been calling the Shadow. He is infecting monsters to make them more powerful. We are hoping eras through all three timelines to rid the monsters and take down the Shadow, we somehow landed here this morning.”

“You are all heroes?”

“We are.”

“Could you be here to prevent something from happening?”

“I don’t know. Everything went wrong from the moment the Calamity struck. Zelda’s power never woke until it was too and I had already di-” With the others still not knowing his story still, he cut himself short.

“Son, you had already what?”

Wild curled into himself some more. “Failed.”

“Take off your hood.”

“You don’t want to see-”

“I want to see my son.”

Wild’s throat tightened as he reached for the hood that concealed his shame. He kept his head turned so the left side of his face was not showing, hiding it. He gasped when a warm hand cradled his scarred jaw and cheek. There was no pity in the expression or in his blue eyes, only a burning desire to protect.

“What happened to you, that you carry these at such a young age?” He rubbed his thumb over uneven skin.

“Five direct hits from several Guardians.” Wild ear twitched when he heard the choked gasps from a few of the others. They all had seen the destruction the mechanical spiders could do.

It was Four that spoke up, asking the question everyone was thinking. “Wild, you said that a single direct hit would kill someone, but you took five. How did you survive that?”

Wild figured it was going to be talked about at some point. “I didn’t.

Two hands on Wild’s face brought his attention back to his father in front of him. If he was fighting emotions, he was doing a wonderful job at it. “Is the princess alive?”

“Yes.”

A small smile appeared. “Then you did not fail.” A knock on the door dragged a sigh of sadness from the man. The knock meant that time was up. “I am going to try and fix this, okay? I can’t make any promises, but the present you will be here tomorrow close to noon. Surely we can get all his mess cleaned up. Rest for now.”

With a stray tear falling through the little bit of dirt and blood on his cheek, Wild stood as his father did. When they stood face to face, the other asked, “How long has it been since you last saw us?”

Swallowing thickly, Wild answered, “102 years.” The frown grew significantly on his fathers face. Wild didn’t know what to expect next, but he wasn’t expecting the crushing hug he was pulled into. A hand carded through his long hair and now he realized why he responded so positively to that feeling. He hesitated at first before melting into his father’s arms, clinging to cold metal armor. The comforting kiss to his head was no surprise at the slightest remembrance started to come back, but then it was gone.

After the bars locked back and he watched his father leave, his heart became frantic, eyes unfocused and mouth becoming dry. The unsteady breathing turned into hyperventilating and it only grew worse when he thought of a second chance to see his parents, his family.

Himself… he was going to have to stand in front of what he used to be. No, he couldn’t. He could stand to be judged by himself or see the others clearly point out the differences.

“Wild?” Time said first, but the voice was muffled as if cotton was shoved into his ears. “Hey, calm down a bit. Everything is going to be fine.”

“Cub, slow down.” Twilight sounded just as panicked as Wild looked.

“He’s going to pass out.” Four?

“Any of us would.” Wars?

Wild swayed on his feet at black dots took his sight. Time’s voice rang clear, “Pup, help me grab him before he falls!”

Two sets of hands grabbed Wild through the metal bars, yanking him over just in time. They sat him down slowly instead of letting him fall. One hand was in his hair, another on his chest to keep him upright. Words of encouragement were said, but the darkness around his vision took over and Wild slumped to his left against the bars.

“Well, he’s out.” Four said with a heaviness in his tone, seeing the limp form of his brother.

Warriors rubbed his face in frustration. “Let him sleep through as much as he can. I just hope his old man has a trick or two up his sleeves.”

“What are we going to do? How do we get him out of here before-” the sailor tried to stop the sob from bubbling out of his throat. “This isn’t right! Why is the King so cruel? Why is his whole world so cruel to him?!”

Legend placed a comforting hand on the youngest’s shoulder as Hyrule drew him into a side hug. “It explains a lot though if you think about it.” Legend started. “Even if his world isn’t like this now, it was still engraved into him.”

Warriors sighed, “Feral child for more than one reason it seems.”

Time’s mind swirled with emotions that he hid from the others because it was truly different for him to see this play out. He kept carding his fingers through long blond locks, careful to not snag the snares that Wild had no care to remove. A slight smile crossed his lips at how free spirited this boy was, but it faded quickly because this was a boy that he saw as his own.

He saw all of them that way honestly. When Twilight had come forward while they switched watch shifts about a small part of his adventure and told Time that he was his descendant, Time was excited, all smiles and couldn’t wait to tell Malon about the discovery that one day they would have a family. Of course the thought of failure was there because Twilight shouldn’t have ever been chosen as a hero to clean up the mess he left behind.

Arriving in Wild’s true era and seeing the feral child who growled at them all for getting too close brought the failure back full force, because Twilight had already told them about the hero he helped that was family by blood and then they finally made it there. When Twilight broke through the group and stood between them and the new hero, Wild stilled and looked to be nearly in tears before he jumped into the other’s arms and refused to let go for at least an hour.

So these two were his own flesh and blood, separated by an unknown amount of generations. That same flesh and blood was going to be split and spilt tomorrow if they could find a way to get out of this mess. He kept his mind to the present though, to the steady breaths and warmth he was helping hold onto. He could think about tomorrow, tomorrow. He could be angry tomorrow.

Tomorrow came too soon.

[fantomcomics]

What’s Out This Week? 6/14

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Not that long ago, the Scientist discovered that all sadness, anxiety, and anger disappeared when you removed your heart. And that's all it took. Soon enough, the hospital had lines out the door. June is an exceptional high schooler, though not in the way you'd expect. She is the only one in town who still has her heart. When she looks at her heartless family and friends, she knows she can't become one of them. But the pressure, loneliness, and heartache are mounting, and it's becoming harder and harder to be the only one with a heart. And then June comes across an abandoned heart in a jar. The heart in the jar intrigues her, it baffles her, and it brings her hope. June wonders if the heart can be used to revitalize her sister. But the heart also brings her Max, a classmate with a secret of his own: though he had his heart removed, he is starting to feel again-and it hurts. June will have to choose between a boy she barely knows-a boy who's in pain-and the sister she loves dearly-who feels nothing. But will her own heart rip in two in the process?

Family Style: Memories Of An American From Vietnam GN -  Thien Pham

Originally posted on Instagram, this young adult graphic novel details the author's childhood immigration to America with his family, through the lens of particularly meaningful food and meals. Thien's first memory isn't a sight or a sound. It's the sweetness of watermelon and the saltiness of fish. It's the taste of the foods he ate while adrift at sea as his family fled Vietnam. After the Pham family arrives at a refugee camp in Thailand, they struggle to survive. Things don't get much easier once they resettle in California. And through each chapter of their lives, food takes on a new meaning. Behind every cut of steak and inside every croissant lies a story. And for Thien Pham, that story is about a search - for belonging, for happiness, for the American dream!

Frank Frazetta’s Mothman #1 (of 5) - Tim Hedrick, Luis Guaragna & Andrea Mutti

From 1966 to 1967 in Point Pleasant, West Virginia, several witnesses reported seeing a man-sized, winged creature with glowing red eyes. Circa 1980, Frank Frazetta painted his iconic work "Mothman." Now you will learn the truth-and it's weird. Emmy nominee Tim Hedrick (Avatar: The Last Airbender) and artist Andrea Mutti (British Paranormal Society) bring you the next expansion of the FrazettaVerse!

Gnome & Rat GN -  Lauren Stohler

Gnome and Rat are best friends who live together in a charming forest. Rat enjoys drinking tea and finishing crossword puzzles. And Gnome... well, Gnome likes to polish his pointy red hat and eat delicious sausages. Join these funny friends on their various adventures, whether it's celebrating Hat Day, perfecting magic tricks, or tracking down a new signature hat for Gnome. Whatever their antic, these two know exactly how to have a good time: with each other.

Haunt You Til The End #1 -  Ryan Cady & Andrea Mutti

In a not-so-far future rife with climate disasters and worldwide instability, an eccentric billionaire and his crew-a disgraced journalist, a radical doctor, a TV demonologist, and a squad of hard-bitten military contractors-set out to prove the existence of life after death. But even if their mission is a success, the truth behind the "most haunted place on earth" may not be the comforting revelation the world is hoping for.

Intertwined: The Last Jewish Daughter Of Kaifeng #1 -  Fabrice Sapolsky,  Fei Chen, Ho Seng Hui & Fred Pham Chuong

In time for Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month as well as Jewish American Heritage Month, fan-favorite series INTERTWINED is back with a 64 page special dedicated to the only Asian Jewish character in comics: the new Spirit of Water! After the events of the original INTERTWINED series, Leah Ai Tian's life has changed drastically. She had been dragged in Juan Jin's adventures with the Spirits of WuXing against her will and Lady Xia passed on the mantle of Champion of the Water Element to her right before she was murdered. Now, Leah fights along the Spirits of the Earth, Wood, Fire and Metal to preserve the balance of the universe while fully living her Jewish faith. But her past has come back to haunt her. Why did she really leave Kaifeng and China? And what do Mob Lord Yuk-Long wants so much that he sent his goons all the way to Chinatown New York to find her?

INTERTWINED: THE LAST JEWISH DAUGHTER OF KAIFENG is a fast paced action adventure tale dealing with deep real life issues: the meaning of faith in a country that, at that time, doesn't recognize Judaism as a religion, the condition of women in the early 1970s and freedom of choice.

Klik Klik BOOM #1 -  Doug Wagner, Douglas Dabbs & Matt Wilson

Meet Sprout, a mute assassin who communicates exclusively through polaroid pictures. Being raised by her doomsday-prepping grandfather in the rolling hills of Idaho, Sprout has never been around other people, watched TV, or seen clothes outside of Army fatigues. Now she's headed to the big lights of New York City to avenge her grandfather's murder, but will the city's mesmerizing glitz and glam help her succeed-or be the death of her?

Legends Of The Pierced Veil: Izuna GN -  Saverio Tenuta & Carita Lupattelli

Since the dawn of time, the Izuna wolves have been entrusted as guardians against Japan's evil spirits, protecting the veil that keeps the spirit world of the Kami and the human world separate. One day, a dark force known as the Noggo appears, spreading infection throughout the spiritual plane. As the Izuna battle against the Noggo's invasion of their land, an Izuna cub is born in the form of a young human girl. Can the Izuna protect the Veil from the threat that could come from within?

Lizard Prince & Other South American Stories GN  -  Kate Ashwin & Kel McDonald

Cursed princes, doomsday prophecies, and a fateful nighttime visit from a legendary sorcerer-these are just a few of the ancient tales whispered in the forests of South America, retold in this beautifully drawn comics treasury! This anthology series features modern takes on folklore from across the continent, for a wide-ranging fireside collection of thrills and spooky chills. Featuring the work of Shadia Amin, Coni Yovaniniz, Verónica Alvarado, and more!

The Love Report GN -  Beka & Maya

BFFs Grace and Lola talk about everything related to romance-and have lots of questions: What about the mysterious allure of the popular girl at school? And the rebellious goth with the reputation? And boys. They don't quite understand what makes some school romances soar to legendary heights, while other flirtations fizzle. Lola has an idea-they'll observe, study, and analyze all the couples at their Junior High-and compile their findings as The Love Report. Surprises await them, and force them to learn to see beyond appearances in this fast-paced series opener. They'll also discover secrets between themselves.

LSBN GN -  Emma Jayne

A lesbian mech rom-com graphic novel by Ignatz and Prism Award-winning cartoonist Emma Jayne! After many grueling years of defending against colossal, violent creatures, the machine that will turn the conflict in humanity's favor is nearing completion... until the war unexpectedly comes to a sudden, peaceful resolution. The world rejoices. However, two women fall into crisis as their life's work becomes obsolete. Commander Sugimoto and her lead engineer Mischa Polyakov have spent nearly every waking moment together since the project's inception, but without the pretense of their careers and world-ending calamity, do they have a reason to stay in one another's lives?

MTG Planeswalkers: Noble #1 -  Stephanie Williams, Daniel Warren, Dave Rapoza, Alberto Locatelli, Lea Caballero, Arianna Consonni, Raúl Angulo & Jahnoy Lindsay

Planeswalkers Karn and Ral Zarek team up to navigate the lonely and often treacherous space between flesh and machine...Meanwhile, a romantic outing featuring Jace and Vraska? The circumstances are less than ideal, however, and even perilous!

Between fan-favorite pairings and unexpected, exciting alliances, the stellar creative team of Stephanie Williams (Nubia: Queen of the Amazons), Daniel Warren and Dave Rapoza (Steve Lichman), Alberto Locatelli, Lea Caballero, Arianna Consonni, and Raúl Angulo take readers to unforgettable realms in the Magic Multiverse!

Mexica: Aztec Princess GN  -  Kayden Phoenix & Fernanda Lozada 

Mexica's princess initiation has begun. She's given three riddles and ventures out of Aztlán with her pet ocelot, Elote, to find the prizes. Unbeknownst to her, she fights a neighboring tribe thinking they're apart of the princess initiation. Mexica unknowingly saving the kingdom and ultimately returning as Aztlán's crowned princess.

Mighty Marvel Team-Up Spider-Man: Animals Assemble! GN - Mike Maihack

When the Avengers are assembled to contain a super threat in New York City, Spider-Man is given the most important job of all: to make sure all the Avengers' super pets are safe! Spider-Man wants in on the bad guy fighting action, but with great power comes great pet sitting. Featuring fan favorite Avengers like Captain America, Captain Marvel, and Black Panther, this fun and funny original graphic novel sees the mighty web-slinger teaming up with the most unlikely of heroes to save the day!  

My Dear Curse-Casting Vampiress GN Vol 1 -  Chisaki Kanai

The world is full of vampires. Supernatural creatures who drain the blood from humans without mercy-fighting such beings is the foundation of Isuzu Osaka's life. But humanity is losing the war, and so desperate times call for desperate measures...And so, Isuzu sets out to strike a deal with a powerful vampiress whose beauty drives all who gaze upon her insane in the hopes of protecting his friends...

Night Fever GN -  Ed Brubaker, Sean Phillips & Jacob Phillips 

Who are you, really? Are you the things you do, or are you the person inside your mind? In Europe on a business trip, Jonathan Webb can't sleep. Instead, he finds himself wandering the night in a strange foreign city with his new friend, the mysterious and violent Rainer, as his guide. Rainer shows Jonathan the hidden world of the night, a world without rules or limits. But when the fun turns dangerous, Jonathan may find himself trapped in the dark-the question is, what will he do to get home? NIGHT FEVER is a pulse-pounding Jekyll-and-Hyde noir thriller about a man facing the darkness inside himself.

Nuking Alaska GN -  Peter Dunlap-Shohl

Nuking Alaska is an unnervingly funny tale of life in Alaska during the tensest times of the Cold War. It recounts the surprising and tragicomic details of the nuclear threats faced by Alaskans, including Project Chariot in the late 1950s and early 60s, the near-nuclear disaster caused by the Great Alaskan Earthquake of 1964, and the 1971 test of a nuclear warhead on the island of Amchitka. Alaskan resident Peter Dunlap-Shohl shares the terrible consequences that these events and others had for humans and animals alike, all in the service of "atoms for peace."

Parallel TP -  Matthias Lehmann

Karl Kling's story is one of revelations, and these he has addressed in a letter to his daughter, Hella, who had disowned Karl many years ago. Karl's letter is a cri de coeur from a father to a daughter he never really got to know, and he comes clean to her about his failed marriages, his fractured family relations--and his love for men.

Taking place between the end of World War II and the 1980s, Parallel chronicles Karl's efforts to comply with social norms in order to keep his sexuality a secret. It also paints a picture of a life torn between conformity and rebellion, and the cruel realities of twentieth-century German society, where homosexuality was proscribed and punishable until 1994. Matthias Lehmann poignantly depicts the story of a decades-long yearning to live an open and free life, and the price Karl and those he loves must pay for it. It is also a story of finding the courage to finally tell the truth no matter the obstacles...or the cost.

Prophecy Complete Edition GN -  Ran Kuze

The mind twisting thriller series that was adapted into a life action film, is now in a new complete omnibus format! A newspaper-masked vigilante who broadcasts his acts of vengeance before committing them. A newly-formed police division tackling the new frontier of internet-based crime. As the sun rises on the Era of Information, can a group of people who found themselves at the bottom of the food chain rattle society through the web and avenge a fallen friend?

Barbaric: Queen Of Swords #1 -  Michael Moreci, Corin Howell & K.J. Diaz

Spinning out of the pages of BARBARIC comes an all-new, standalone, rip-roaring fantasy adventure, filled with mayhem, humor, and a bloodthirsty weapon that just won't stop talking! Serra is a witch with a checkered past; Ka is an assassin with an agenda all her own, and Deadheart is a barbarian who wants to bash everyone in her path. They'll have to unite their unique skills to track down a powerful foe who's tied their lives together. Get ready to meet your new favorite instrument of death-the evil Ga'Bar, whose spirit is now trapped in Deadheart's sword!

Discover the origin of the dark magic that turned Soren into the tattooed witch she is today, in this totally new story, the perfect place to step into the world of BARBARIC for the first time!

Reggie: Kid Penguin GN -  Jen de Oliveira

Fans of Babymouse and Owly will love this early graphic novel series about the everyday adventures and high jinks of Reginald "Reggie" Guinn, a little kid penguin with a big personality! Reggie is just like any other kid: always looking for fun and adventure! But Reggie's curious, playful side sometimes gets him into trouble. Like when he tries to give himself a haircut before picture day...and ends up gluing his feathers back on his head! Or when he sneaks a mouthful of cookie dough from the kitchen... then feels the sun baking cookies in his tummy! Or when his babysitter puts him on a kid leash while they walk to the park... and he rebels by acting like a dog!

Santa Latina Superhero GN -  Kayden Phoenix & Eva Cabrera 

Santa lives in Wexo, a made-up bordertown in Texas. With elections coming up, the tension rises as the conservative frontrunner, Illena Chavez-Estevez, AKA ICE, wants to start a race war in the town. On the Domino side, we have La Politica running. Comadre, the mentor and veteran, ends up recruiting Santa for La Politica's campaign and as the racial tensions rise in the town, Santa learns what it means to be patriotic while harnessing her Mom's military past. When civilians start getting stolen, Santa finds her voice and strength to raid the detention camps and take down ICE.

Spider-Man: Fake Red GN -  Yusuke Osawa

Yu's new high school is kind of awful. He's failing his classes and striking out socially. Everything changes when he finds one of Spider-Man's costumes abandoned in an alleyway. At first, it's fun to put on the costume and play hero, but when powerful enemies start to appear, Yu quickly realizes he's out of his element. Still, with Spider-Man nowhere to be found, the city needs someone to save it...

The Prophet GN -  A. David Lewis, Kahlil Gibran & Justin Renteria

First published in 1923, Khalil Gibran's The Prophet is unquestionably the most popular work of free verse published in the English language during the 20th century. The slender book tells the story of exiled Almustafa, leaving his refugee home of Orphalese after twelve years of banishment. Before he goes, however, he has words of wisdom for the people who took him in. This graphic adaptation features a faithful rendering of the original text with a flashback sequence that explains the prehistory of Almustafa and an afterword by A. David Lewis.

This Is Not My Story HC -  Ryan Uytdewilligen & David Huyck

The brave captain of a tiny spaceship is surrounded by flying saucers. Though the situation appears dire, he knows just what to do... um, wait! The brave captain-ahem, boy-tells the author to stop the action: He's got it all wrong. This is not the boy's story. He belongs in a different story. The author considers this. Then he begins again, with a story about Cattle King Carl, the quickest cattle wrangler in the West... No! Still not the boy's story? Hmm. Is he a dragon-slaying knight? No! A vampire's next victim? No! A boy going on a date? No! Will the author ever come up with the right story?

Twisted Tales: Part Of Your World GN -  Stephanie Kate Strohm, Liz Braswell, Kelly Matthews & Nichole Matthews

Discover a new side of The Little Mermaid in this darkly romantic reimagining of the classic Disney film! It's been five years since the infamous sea witch defeated the little mermaid... and took King Triton's life in the process. Ariel is now the voiceless queen of Atlantica, while Ursula runs Prince Eric's kingdom on land. But when Ariel discovers that her father might still be alive, she finds herself returning to a world-and a prince-she never imagined she would see again. Ursula has been making the most of her role as princess: With the kingdom-and Prince Eric-under her spell, the sea witch has been plotting, scheming, and waging war. And after the disguised sea witch catches wind that Ariel has resurfaced, her thirst for power threatens both land and sea. It's up to Ariel to overthrow the murderous villain before Ursula can destroy her home, her prince, and the world she once longed to be a part of.

Void Rivals #1 -  Robert Kirkman, Lorenzo De Felici & Matheus Lopes 

War rages around the Sacred Ring, where the last remnants of two worlds have collapsed around a black hole in a never-ending war.  However, when pilot Darak and his rival Solila both crash on a desolate planet, these two enemies must find a way to escape together. But are they alone on this strange planet? And what dark forces await that threaten the entire universe? 

Why I Adopted My Husband GN -  Yuta Yagi

As a gay couple living in Japan (where gay marriage is not yet legal), Yuta and Kyota have found a unique loophole in order to live together and support one another financially, legally and medically; Kyota adopted Yuta. This nonfiction manga depicts how they met, living together, discussions with their parents, and their future anxieties and determination as they strive for independence and equal rights under Japanese law.

Xino #1 -  Chris Condon, Nick Cagnetti & Matt Lesniewski

Because the future is getting weirder everyday, we give you XINO #001-the first of three OVERSIZED, 40-PAGE intra-ocular lozenges of subversive, surrealist science-fiction to cure your awful awareness of it all. Try not to worry-the insertion process will be guided by the megawatt brilliance of Oni's brightest talents (past, present, and future) as they slowly tune your hopes, dreams, desires, paranoia, alienation, anxiety, and adrenaline to produce the desired results. In our first exploratory outing: Rising stars Melissa Flores (The Dead Lucky, Mighty Morphin Power Rangers) & Daniel Irizarri (Judge Dredd) surgically activate the hidden dimensions of the human senses; cult phenoms Christopher Condon (That Texas Blood) and Nick Cagnetti (Pink Lemonade) debut the world's first intravenous video game system; Underground radicals Jordan Thomas (Weird Work) and Shaky Kane (Bulletproof Coffin) surveil the suburbs for signs of covert infiltration, and master cartoonist and foundational Oni creator Phil Hester (Gotham City: Year One, The Coffin) returns to the fold to leave his deepest mark yet!

Whatcha picking up this week, Fantom Fam?

[lunyzare]

Curious what do you think Madara and Nagato’s relationship would have been like Madara had taken Nagato as baby ?

Hello anon, my apologies for such a delayed answer. 💜 The reason this answer took so long is because I just couldn't think of anything smart to say, and I had no idea how to approach this ask at all. But without further due, let's begin:

Okay, I'm honestly not sure if Madara would take Nagato as a baby, more probable option in my eyes is he would take him in, after Nagato lost his family because of Konoha nins attacking his home.

This, of course, means that Nagato is traumatized by the event, and that could therefore mean he would be much more inclined to follow through with Madara's plan. Unlike Obito, Nagato also seems like a character who wouldn't mind sacrificing himself for Madara's revival (given he sacrificed himself for the Konoha Shinobi).

Nagato, much more than Obito, also seems like someone who enjoyes spiritualistic/relegion beliefs (given he outright calls himself a god), and is willing to follow these beliefs, because he values them deeply. This is why I think Nagato could have potentially believe Madara is the "god" who will save humanity from its own decay and disaster.

Nagato seems to value father figures, teachers and people who provide him with answers and directions much more than Obito. Nagato, through out his fight against Naruto, not only remembered Jiraya several times, refered to him, but also tried to explain to Naruto that he is actually trying to do what Jiraya always wanted, Nagato (sort of) still followed his old teacher's lead, albeit in his own way. Obito on the other hand went against Madara's plan multiple times, created a war that, if memory serves me right, was never part of Madara's plan in the first place, barely respected him even, and afterwards directly stated he never wanted to follow Madara's lead anyway. From Obito, I felt much bigger desire "to be the one, the savior", than from Nagato, who seems much more willing to be lead by others.

One thing, that Obito and Nagato have in common is that they both hid their true identity, although, again, I personally see a bit of a difference. Obito tried to supress his identity (as in he said he doesn't want to be anyone), whereas from Nagato, I sort of got the impression he still very much valued his identity – as while he accepted an identity of a god, the path he chose was still very much formed by the identity...of himself. I am trying to say Nagato was much more in touch with himself (at least that's how I personally saw the characters).

I wrote all of this, because the differences between Obito (the one who had a relationship/connection with Madara, however flawed it might have been) and Nagato might help to illustrate the possible relationship between Nagato and Madara.

Now, with Obito, we could see Madara believed in his abilties – we could see that when he said he's sure Obito certainly has a plan (he even said so twice, if I'm not mistaken) – and even joked with him a little bit. And I can imagine it could be the same with Nagato.

Now, at this point, this will be moving more towards the headcanon category, but I think the fact that Nagato essentially has Madara's eyes, would play a huge role in their potential relationship. I can imagine Madara telling Nagato about how the eyes he has will "pave" the path for the better future, how those eyes are eyes of the savior of the world.

One thing that would probably be different about their relationship is that Nagato, while powerful, is not an Uchiha. One of the main reasons why Madara even asked Sasuke whether or not he wants to join him was because they are both Uchihas, so that might change how he would view Nagato, as an non Uchiha.

The fact that Nagato seems to be more loyal to the cause though, might on the other hand cause Madara to rely on him a bit more, to open up, to trust him, as I believe Madara values loaylity. Madara needs people to have faight in him, he needs them to trust him, trust his decisions, and if Nagato showed that undying trust and respect, that might be something Madara would appreaciate.

Nagato, in his fight with Naruto, also showed he is willing to connect with others, that he is willing be empathetic with others, and that again would change his relationship with Madara. Who actually tried to understand Madara (other than probably Izuna)? Nobody, right? Well, I think it would definitely mean something had Nagato actually tried to create a connection. Again, it could mean Madara would open up a bit more.

BUT, here's the thing: Nagato would still have to sacrifice himself to revive Madara, and Madara knows that. So it is a huge question how much he (Madara) would be willing to let Nagato close to him. Because while I know Madara can be harsh in his pursuit of his goals, I do not think he would be completely unphased by sacrificing a loyal child he himself would raise.

This ask took way too long for me to answer (life just...happened), so I'm not even sure if you even want to still read this, anon, but in any case, I hope the answer was satisfying.

Luny out 💜

[rosiedoestumblr]

40 looks so good on you, Ms. Rosie! I hope I’m as cool as you when I’m 40. I’m currently 28, and aging kind of scares me, but it’s people like you that make me feel like there’s nothing to be scared of. 🩷 Thanks for sticking around the internet (specifically Fall Out Boy spaces) as long as you have, it’s always quite a treat to see you on my dash. Have a good day!!

Aw, thanks dude! That's such a nice thing to say (I think you may be mistaken about exactly how cool I am, though). I know I'm really fortunate that having Sicilian genes and a chubby face disguises some of the ageing process, but bear in mind that (as with most people) the pictures I share are probably one or two out of 30 I took to find a couple from a good angle, with good lighting, possibly a Norfolk Terrier or a scarf over my chin to hide how many of them I've cultivated in the last 20 years... I also tend to keep my make up (except my eyeliner) quite natural, because I find that helps keep you looking fresh faced - but that principle shouldn't dictate what you wear.

Here is my stupid face right now, without make up and with unwashed hair. I developed adult acne after having immaculate skin when I was a teenager, possibly because my dog keeps standing on it or licking all over it. I have OCD and what is (appointment pending) probably about to be diagnosed as ADHD, so I'm a chronic skin picker, hence the scars all over my chin and forehead. I've also got fine lines under my eyes, bottom lip and on my forehead, but automatic settings on modern phone cameras kind of smooth the worst of them out.

The whole thing about getting older can be scary, but mostly because we've all been raised on the Boomer-generation's expectations, through movies, TV, adverts and the like, and a lot has changed. We're really fortunate to live at a time where being yourself is much more acceptable than it used to be, in most (although sadly not all) cases. Every advert you see is specifically designed to make you feel inadequate and make you fear irrelevance, but only so they've got an excuse to sell you something you can live without. Whether that's a fancier car or anti-wrinkle cream.

You don't actually have to do the stuff that really ages you, unless you want to. You can keep going to shows (to be honest, gigs have got so expensive we see more people our age there than younger people, who often struggle to afford what bands are asking). You can keep wearing band shirts. You can keep dying your hair and getting tattoos. You can keep being passionate about it. You're a grown ass adult, it's down to you to make your own choices. You don't have to give up what you love, but sometimes you have to be creative about the time you find in which to enjoy it. And you'll appreciate that more.

I've never wanted kids, so I haven't had any.

I never went to uni, but I fell into a career that pays me alright, and it's not an industry I care a lot about (I'm a gas safety contract manager) but I see it as a resource that allows me to do the things that I really want to, the rest of the time.

It's important to remember to live your own life, not the life someone else - anyone else - wants you to. You have to be pragmatic, obviously, and if you choose to settle down with another person then give and take will always be necessary, but don't ever let someone tell you what you can and can't be interested in because of your age (except you, Prince Andrew) or what you can or can't spend your own spare time and disposable cash doing. Keep loving the things you love, if they still captivate you. Fuck anyone who would tell you otherwise! It's the joylessness of giving up your identity to become nothing but your life obligations that costs you the most.

For my part, I'm pretty squarely between Patrick and Andy, age-wise. Fall Out Boy are my generation. We've grown up together, in a fannish sense. It's not like a TV show might be, where the characters are still young and I've gotten old in the last 18 years, they're still relatable to me, even now. Which is probably a lot of the reason I'm still here, specifically.

Watching the waves of new fans discovering the band over the years has been fun, really. Partly because it makes us truly geriatric emos feel like mystical sages sitting on the lonely mountain tops of Old Timer Fandom, offering anecdotes from bandom drama long ago, to young adventurers who approach us with news from the mists of TikTik to ask if things really happened, and witnessing the same things happening cyclically, every couple of years.

New blood means Pete will feel validated and Patrick will feel relevant they'll continue to feel they have something to offer/sell (look what happened when an album didn't do as well...) and it's hard to fault that.

Focus on enjoying your life and your interests as they are now (although do think about saving some of your money when you can, because you'll thank yourself later) and fuck worrying about everything else. You'll find you don't feel any different, when you get where I am, than you do now, anyway.

You have a good day, too. And thanks again for saying such kind things. xoxo

[jeysecretive]

YEESSSSSSSS I FINALLY WRITE IT!1!!1

I came up with an AU of the future(Sonic), but in the years in which Sonic's adventures officially take place (Sonic IDW, let's say). It's a version of Sonic's world that started developing technologically much earlier than in canon. Cities have displaced almost all plants and wildlife, and life has been brought to automaticity. Jey enters this world with the goal of finding Sonic in order to prevent some kind of disaster in the digital world. But he fails to find Sonic the Hedgehog, as there are only different kinds of robots and clouds of poisonous gases in the streets. It turns out that all the inhabitants of this world have long since gotten used to being outside all the time, they live in their apartments. If you think that they are all fat and flabby uglies, you are far mistaken. Every apartment, every room in these high-rise buildings has its own atmosphere. Someone with enough finances has reproduced in his apartment a tropical beach or a lawn with rare plants, someone has a real northland. Many Mobians play sports and keep themselves in good shape. But they rarely go outdoors, because to go outside, they have to wear a gas mask and preferably a suit, so as not to be poisoned by waste. Every year the ecosystem of the planet was destroyed more and more. But many of the inhabitants didn't know as much about it as they should have. They lived in perfectly designed worlds with clean air, food, and water: everything they needed to live comfortably. But it wasn't just the poisons oozing out of the streets that caused the devastation. The outside world went into stasis thanks to an online tournament held around the world once a year. It connected together fans and supporters from the most lost corners of the planet. It was the annual finale of the game "Frontiers of Speed," played by almost the entire population of Mobius from the ages of seven to fifty. The game, created only recently by some anonymous genius nicknamed "Tails", was ranked number one in the world in terms of users, popularity, and quality of controls and graphics. It was a seemingly ordinary motorcycle racing simulator, but it was so beloved by its fans that it was honored as the "best game of the decade". There wasn't a single person in the world who didn't know about this game. And this time, big part of the city sat at the screens to watch the stages of the game, and part went to separate rooms equipped specifically for big races. But in the competition only a select few had a chance to win. Only ten players made it to the finals, and only one was awarded the winner's cup.

But in the last two years, the players have had even less of a chance, as only one user named Blue Blur has held the lead.

He is as famous as he is mysterious and hides his identity perfectly. Almost nothing is known about him, but rumor has it that he knows the developer of "Frontiers of Speed" personally. Ignoring all the rules of using the in-game equipment, he performed the most complicated stunts and rode faster than anyone else. His records were so unimaginable that no one in the world has ever managed to repeat them.

But all this gaming mega universe with its sense of adrenaline, speed, passion, the sound of tires rubbing against the asphalt can collapse overnight. And to save it, you will have to gain access to the highest privileges of the winner, hack into the general game network and extract a lot of information, rewriting hundreds of security protocols. But to do that, you have to defeat the Blue Blur. If you get the top spot, you could find out where Sonic is. Or maybe... You don't have to find him at all...

Note: At some point in his adventures, Jey created a handheld device containing a self-developing AI. At its core was woven in with some of Nicole's core coding. In essence, this AI was her son. (Let's not forget that Jey travels a lot of places, and the Archie universe is absolutely no exception)

But specifically in this story, this device was just a high-tech computer about two-thirds the size of a Nintendo Switch. Jey used it to infiltrate the game's system, but more on that later.