#Everytime I think about them they make me so

[seungcheorry]

"chan, you idiot!", seungkwan exclaimed, his hand itching to slap his youngest member. "how can you be so clueless all the time?"

and, once again, chan had that look on his face, as if he didn't know shit - and to be honest, he didn't.

"what did i do this time?"

"they aren't saying they are bored because they think you're not interestant or annoying", seungkwan rolled his eyes. "although you are very much annoying."

chan sighed, covering his eyes with his hand. of course he wouldn't get out of that conversation without being insulted at least once, even though he know his hyung didn't actually mean it.

he went to his hyungs, sharing this one thing that has been bothering him; you.

oh, don't get me wrong, chan liked you so much. he felt attracted to you the moment he laid eyes on you, and was over the moon when he found out you also liked him. however, everytime the two of you hang out, you always look a bit... annoyed. bored. disappointed. like you were expecting something else.

"then what? what should i do to entertain them?"

"chan-ah, don't be silly", seungcheol laughed when jeonghan stopped seungkwan from getting up to hit chan. "they look like that because they want you to act on your feelings."

"act on my feelings?", there surely was lots of '???' over chan's head.

"oh my god...", seungkwan groaned.

"you like them, they like you. they're expecting you do do something about that", a calm seungcheol explained, shrugging.

and those words stayed with chan for the whole time he was away from you, counting the days to see you again and try to test his hyung's theory.

so now he's sitting right beside you on his couch. your head is resting on a cushion, once again a bored expression on your face as you don't pay much attenttion to the movie that is playing on his tv. chan takes a look at you from the corner of his eye, mirroring your expression and sighing a little too loud; but it's okay, it's all part of his plan.

"what?", you ask him.

"um, nothing...", he let his body melt on the couch, to look even more bored. "this movie is shitty."

"it is, i stopped watching like ten minutes ago."

with a sigh too, you sit up straight to look around the room. chan is watching your every move, getting ready to say his next words out loud.

"yeah, i feel you. i'm really bored right now."

"hm, me too..."

and it's comical, actually, how you turn to look at chan and how his eyes slightly shine when the two of you say together:

"wanna kiss?"

there it is. chan smiles, not only because his plan has half worked (and definitely not because his hyungs were right), but because you thought the same thing he did, and maybe you too were just waiting for him to be as bored as you to act on your wishes.

"thought you would never ask", you chuckle, already throwing yourself at chan, smacking your lips against his.

he welcomes you with passion, holding your waist and helping your adjust beside him while his lips works wonderful on yours, parting them just enough so he can slip his tongue into your mouth.

it's great, and it makes chan's chest burn with that feeling he hasn't felt in so long - he really likes you; he's just on the edge to actually fall in love with you.

and god, he hopes you're right beside him on that edge too.

a/n: inspired by this moment right here.

[xazse]

Hi!! I love your work. I'd like to make a request, Satoru x Innocent!reader, if you have time you can do it, and if not, then I'll understand. :)

Tw: Satoru x innocent!reader + smut + fem!reader + corruption kink + pussyeating + not a lot of smut I’m sorry! I was just rushed to get this out so you didn’t think I was ignoring you!

Notes: HI IM SO HAPPY YOU LOVE MY WORKS!! (Sorry this took so long I was thinking of a good prompt but here you go I hope you like it!!) and if you didn’t want fem!reader just tell me and I’ll revise it!

I absolutely love the idea of you having some vague information on sex but not a lot, too busy plopping your face in books almost all your life, romance and stuff didn’t interest you when you had parents who wanted you to solely think about school and college.

And when you get to college you’re completely dumbstruck by the relationships around you. Everyone around you seems to have someone special to them but here you are too busy for things like that. Sex handn’t ever crossed your mind that is until you meet Satoru the first ever boy to show actual interest in you, he’s as sweet as they come, clingy but very funny.

A year with him has happened so fast and you’ve felt nothing but bliss with him, he’s truly one of a kind.

Satoru and you are relaxing on your fluffy bed, he’s lounging on your body like he usually is, always needing to be close to you regardless of where you are. But today he’s extra touchy with you, feeling up your waist and burying himself deep in your tummy which in turn makes you giggle.

Satoru is going quite mad, he doesn’t know how many times he can see you in those short shorts and tiny camisole for him to finally pin you down and fuck you, everytime he hints at intimacy you just give him the most confused look ever, you don’t pick up on his words and that also drives him crazy. Crazy in a good way. He loves the fact that you don’t even seem the least bit interested in sex, he wants to be the one to take your virginity and him only.

And now feels like the perfect moment, he starts kissing up the column of your neck and you surprisingly don’t pull away though you do sit still as a board whilst his lips wander all over your neck, leaving deep purple hued marks all over.

That night Satoru has a hard time controlling himself with you, he knows he’s supposed to ease you into sex but the way his fingers can barely filt pass your tight hole has him groaning out loud, every hitch of your breath from the pain makes his cock throb. He’s getting off to the simple fact that you’ve never had anything in there.

He pulses his fingers in and out of you in a repeated motion, spurring on those cute whines that slip out nonstop.

He spreads you open further on your bed so he can get the full view of your beautiful cunt, your little clit throbs for attention and he most definitely gives it that attention, the nub twitches nervously every sift of his fingers against it.

He licks his first taste of you directly up the middle of your pussy, dragging against your folds as you buck against his hips. That little action elicits that much from you? Oh Satoru is going to have so much fun ruining you.

You take his cock like a champ, he whispers that bit in your ear while you’re fucked out. It was an extremely tight fit even with all the prep he gave you but nonetheless Satoru fought agaisnt the tight ring of your pussy, he has you cum around him multiple times that night.

[prettealolilol]

so, i don't particularly mind when the Drakes are abusive and/or completely absent in fics (note that the followinig train of thoughts is based on the fics i read and absolutely not bases on the comics)

but

i feel like we tend to forget that Tim is still a Drake. like yeah he was adopted by Bruce and, depending how you see it, has lived in the manor for a few years. but still, he was raised by the Drakes, specifically by the Janet Drake. the one woman the press knew better than to badmouth. she was feared, liked and respected at the same time

like, there's no way that woman would leave her only son, the one she carried 9 month, alone for weeks without teaching him how to behave as high society. he's the one supposed to represent the Drake name everytime he's outside, whether it's at school, on a walk or at galas. so naturally he could tell when he's being followed and photographed, by people or paparazzis (which could have helped him learning how to not be seen, hence being able to follow batman and robin around at the age of 10 without being found), and then flashing his best natural smile. the guy is strikingly beautiful and he knows how to accentuate it with make up (rather usefull skills between the bruise at night and the eyebags in the morning) depending on what he's wearing. and obviously he knows how to dress, as in it's natural for him. he knows which colours to associate and do it without thinking. even if he's borrowing some of his siblings' clothes, he'd still accord them. he would litterally debate with Alfred about which brand his better or which suit would be more adapted to a gala.

i did hear about Janet teaching Tim a maths formula to know people status ? not sure if it's canon, but obviously Tim would know about anyone at any gala and be able to tell who's richer based on language, clothes, facial expressions...

and then high society (and the press as well) also tends to forget that before being Tim Drake-Wayne, he was Timothy Drake, son of Janet Drake, and know how to talk and insult someone without insulting them. he knows exactly what to say and how to say it so people would know they better not play smart with him. (rip anyone who try to belittle any of siblings, he'll rip them apart while smiling)

Janet raised him with the belief he'll take over Drake Industries, so when Tim took over WE, he wasn't totally thrown to the sharks (he still had the help of Lucius), he learnt the name of each and single employes (which is a looot) and a few things about them. he can tell when someone is trying to manipulate him at a board meeting, he knows how to deal with the money... he's definitly highly liked and respected by the employes of WE

and on another note, you cannot make me believe the guy does not know how to cook. banned from the kitchen ? bullshit

like if we follow the whole idea of absent parents then that means at some point Tim had to take care of himself. maybe he had a nanny or something, but she was definitly not there all the time. so my headcanon is that he does know how to cook, and is in fact a good cook. like he'd been alone for weeks and had to learn how to cook an egg, then make a salad until he could do more complex receipes

all to say that my man Tim knows how to carry himself and bend the world to his needs because that the least Janet would expect from him, and he's never going to embarass her, ever

[scorpiossslut]

Naughty stepsis takes cock deep to convince her stepbro to forgive her😞

Oh don't mind me just thinking about stepbro Rafe and how rough he would get once he steals your phone and finds out you've been entertaining some guy in your school.

He'd have you on your knees in your bedroom, frantically thrusting his dick deep down your tiny throat, shamelessly using you and not giving a fuck that you're scratching at his thick thighs with your pretty pink nails and trying to get him to stop or maybe just slow down a little bit. Your eyes are wide and bloodshot with tears streaming down your chubby cheeks as you continuously gag and cough on his dick, desperately trying to get some air in your lungs through your nose.

"Yeah, fucking choke on it, sis. What, didn't you wanna be a slut? Talking to other boys and shit. Fucking take it then, what you acting all scared for now?" He let out a dark chuckle, tugging so harshly on your hair that you could feel a headache forming.

You could barely see through the tears, blinking them away every few seconds, your nose pressing repeatedly into his pelvis. Not a thought ran through your mind, you were too fucked out for that. And he loved it. Nothing compared to the euphoric feeling he got everytime he made you all stupid, just a little toy to bust his nut in, no matter which hole he chose.

When he pulled your head back and his big cock slipped out of your mouth, you finally allowed yourself to breathe, almost choking with all the saliva and precum gathered in your mouth. The back of your throat hurt so badly that it made you cry even harder, and the sound was like heaven to Rafe, a creepy smirk stretching onto his lips as he watched you struggle and trying to get away from him.

"P-please, Rafey, no more! M' sorry! I was just bored, I didn't mean to upset you." You whined pathetically, looking up at him with pleading eyes, hoping he would forgive you for being so stupid, for daring to speak to some other boy.

"Shut the fuck up, slut." He growled, smacking you with the back of his hand, your head snapping to the side and your mouth hanging open in shock, another wave of tears welling up in your eyes at his rough behaviour. You just wanted your sweet, big brother back, not this violent version of him. Even though you were no stranger to Rafe's constant mood swings, for you, he always tried to keep himself in check.

Not because he wanted to, or because he had some kind of soft spot for you, no. He just tends to try and be patient, playing the long game, complimenting your pretty outfits or caressing your skin softly, whispering sappy things in your ear and caressing every inch of your body, knowing that these little things always make you more compliant, more open to let him do whatever he wants with you. It pisses him off sometimes, having to work for it, especially when he's had a bad day and all he wants to do is barge into your room and have you face down ass up, without having you complain like a brat.

But no more of that sweet shit. You took his kindness for granted, and he wouldn't have that.

He was gonna take what he needed from you from now on, whether you liked it or not.

Besides, forcing you to submit to him was more fun anyway. You looked so messy and dumb that his dick twitched in delight.

Grabbing your chin, he forced your mouth open with his fingers, hooking them into your bottom teeth to keep you in place before shoving his dick back into your mouth, knocking all the air out of your lungs. You could feel every inch of him stretching you, and when you felt another gag coming, you tried swallowing around him a few times, the action making him moan loudly and roll his eyes to the back of his head as your throat squeezed him tightly.

"Shit."

He kept you there a few seconds, holding onto the back of your head to make sure you weren't going to pull away, an amused snicker slipping from his lips.

"Look so dumb right now. Acting like you don't like it when I have my dick in your mouth, but look at you, drooling on it like a whore." He smirked, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking you back once again, drool connecting the tip of his cock and your bottom lip. You didn't even have it in you to complain any more at this point, just thankful for the brief moments where you could catch your breath again.

Rate hummed and tilted his head to the side, enjoying the view as he grabbed his dick and smeared your spit all over your swollen, parted lips with his tip, slapping your cheek with it a few times before slamming back into your throat and thrusting rapidly, having you gag and roll your eyes in an obscene way as the lewd wet sounds echoed in the room.

"My dummy ass sister is such a cockwhore for her big, bad brother, yeah? Don't worry your pretty lil' head, sis, you're gonna get it sooo good tonight. Gonna fuck your tiny ass too, just cuz you wanted to be a bitch and make me mad..."

[akashirl]

1. (most prominent quirk [it was hard picking just one]) his eyes mirror his emotions perfectly. he did not grow up being a very expressive person overall but his eyes speak for him. they soften when he's feeling vulnerable or charmed, and his gaze hardens when he's feeling conflicted. his eyes can tell stories.

as for me, he often mentions my smile. i think he took a special liking to my dimples...

2. the gym / basketball court. it's where we met, it's where we're together most of the time, it holds a special place in our hearts.

3. (⸝⸝๑ _๑⸝⸝⸝) it's still a bit early for that...we're high schoolers...

4. he'd be the vocalist and i'd be a guitarist (frerard who.)...

5. it was so difficult for me to say those words for the first time because of something that happened to me in the past -- and due to how strong the words are. sei says them more often, and it melts my heart everytime.

6. he does! he communicates his care for me on the court, by offering me tips / fixing my posture / engaging in duo plays with me when passing me the ball...he also always makes sure that i'm feeling alright, due to how rocky my mental state is; making sure that i take care of myself, take my medicine on time, all that...

7. i have. saying "interesting" often and caring about grammar when texting are some of the habits i have picked up...

8. i wouldn't have to say anything. he would find me anyway.

9. both! dancing in the kitchen sounds cozy and intimate but honestly i would really like to go to a karaoke bar. sei is an extremely good singer so he wouldn't have a problem with it either.

10. pumpkin bread with nuts and hazelnut milk...

11. in public, we call eachother by our names (i call him "captain" too). in private, we use pet names...

12. well, i know for a fact that sei wants to become a profession athlete but we're still in process of getting there...(his father wants him to inherit the family's business). but our main goal for now is just become public about our relationship...

13. when we were playing against eachother during practice and he pulled an ankle breaker on me and i fell on my ass. that was crazy. but also "wow, i need to marry him."

14. he has disassociative personality disorder and has an alter (the fandom calls him "bokushi". i call him "aka-chan"). i'm with both of them, but sometimes it's difficult to get through aka-chan's hard shell. i know it's all new to him though, and he needs time to reflect on his feelings...

15. he's good at redirecting my focus from the bad thoughts. and no, it's not just because i find him utterly hypnotizing. he reassures me that everything is alright and encourages me to view the situation differently. and of course, suggests that we play a bit of 1v1.

16. the first song that came up was "amor de ganga" which is our main song, strangely. needless to say that it fits us like a glove...

17. let's just say that red is my favorite color.

18. we're somewhere in the middle. we've been close for a long time but my heart still flutters and my cheeks still flush whenever i see him. the sparkle in our eyes isn't dimming at all...

19. a portrait he keeps in his pocket of us when we were younger and everything was alright...

20. probably someone stubborn, whose feet are never really touching the ground, has an "unique fashion sense", hardworking...a little silly, always flustered..."once, we were having a matching during our first year in the basketball team and he scored a three-pointer. but guess what? it was an own goal." he still teases me about it till this day.

Selfship Ask Game

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷

What would your f/o(s) say your most endearing quirk is? What would you say their most endearing quirk is?

Do you and your f/o(s) have a special place that you go to be alone together? Does this place hold a specific treasured memory?

Are you and your f/o(s) interested in marriage? If you're already married, who proposed and how?

If you and your f/o(s) were in a band, which band members would you be? (lead singer, drummer, guitarist, etc.)

Who says "I love you" most often?

Does your f/o(s) have a way of saying/showing they love you that is specific to them?

Have you picked up any of your f/o's habits or sayings?

If your f/o(s) had to find you quickly in a large crowd, what would they shout in order to get your attention? What would you shout in order to get their attention?

Would you and your f/o(s) rather spend your evening dancing together in the kitchen or out at a karaoke bar?

What would your f/o(s) order for you at a bakery or café to surprise you with later?

Do you and your f/o(s) use pet names or terms of endearment, or do you only call each other by name?

Do you and your f/o(s) have any dream goals to achieve together?

Was there a specific moment with your f/o(s) where you thought, "Yeah, this is who I want to be with forever"?

If your f/o(s) have an alternate version of themself (such as an evil clone), do you/would you have any romantic interest in that version of them?

If you needed a distraction to get out of your thoughts, how would your f/o(s) humor you?

Pick a random playlist and hit shuffle. The song you get is your selfship's theme song. How well does it fit?

Have you changed any of your preferences or opinions of anything at all because of your f/o(s)?

Would you say you and your f/o(s) are still in your "honeymoon phase", or are you more of an "old married couple", or somewhere in the middle?

If you had to be away from each other for a long period of time, what item would your f/o(s) stare at longingly in the middle of the night while thinking of you? (ex: locket, framed photo, a sentimental gift from you, an article of your clothing or accessory, etc)

How would your f/o(s) describe you to someone who hasn't met you? What memory of you would they readily share in conversation?

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷

[l0relaii]

Morning! it's 8 am and i need a pick-me up so of course i travel to your page at the speed of light LOL

Need some nasty thoughts about reader who's really flustered by Chris's height and broadness? yk?

like shorter reader 5-5'4 ish (He's canonically 6'3 so duh)

and some uh.. bicep lock while he fucks her in doggy style.. okfhh?2);9 OKAY BYE

as a 5'3 gal I NEEDED THIS

chris is so tall and broad and he seems so intimidating

but he's just a ray of sunshine :D

occasionally though

the rest of the time he's relishing in the way you get soo flustered around him

and he acts so innocent about it while thinking of more ways he could make you melt

he's always towering over you, resting his hands on your shoulders or on top of your head, leaning down towards you, asking you to get him things from high shelfs knowing damn well that you can't reach them

"hey babe? could you get me that vase from the top shelf in the living room?"

"uhh yeah, i'll try"

he's watching you with a smirk trying to reach it while you're standing on a chair

but don't worry because he will do it himself eventually wrapping his arms around you to get you off the chair

"ohh sweetness, here let me help you"

then he flexes the shit outta his arms in front of you to see your expression while your'e staring at them and at the soft tummy peeking from under his lifted shirt

AND WHEN HE GETS TO FUCK YOU AEHJENSKA jesus he's so much bigger than you

imagine the STING everytime he enters you no matter how much he prepared you with his fingers and tongue bcs he's just so big😵‍💫

he notices how you always cling to his arms kissing and biting and clawing at them

so he makes sure to wrap one around your neck while thrusting into you from behind just so he can feel the vibrations in your throat when you let out loudest nastiest moans against his bicep

he lifts you upright so he can thrust at a different angle with his arm still around your throat and his free hand between your legs rubbing at your swollen nub

and before he cums he lays you flat on the bed squishing you between the mattress and his big broad body while still thrusting into you JESUS JSJAMKW

[amatsuchan-eiliniel]

˗ˏˋ ★ ― No YandeSim AU ‼

「 “Mh...? Oh, I've always found Quartz incredible...Why are you talking about Azul?” 」

Here it is FINALLY! Hopper in the YandeSim AU by Quartz!!

★┊[INFOS] .ᐟ

── .✦ Hopper is, as always, the sweet boy, always away from dramas and conflicts.

── .✦ He's obviously a non-rival, but thinks Azul is cool, somehow (he doesn't know if he should be afraid or not...).

── .✦ He has the habit of cooking for everyone, as friendship gifts!

── .✦ Due to his feminine appareance, he's mistaken for a girl, as always.

── .✦ He has a huge crush on Che'nya but is afraid of saying it...

★┊[WHAT DOES HE CARRIES?] .ᐟ

── .✦ Books : Life wouldn't be good without books! He's reading everytime.

── .✦ Notebook and pen : To write things he might forget later, or his daylife, or just thoughts in general.

── .✦ Bag of cookies : He's so often late that he forgets to eat, so he carries a bag of cookies in his bag in case of (also to distribute them).

── .✦ Anti-stress toy : Because he still has his chronic anxiety, he needs something to fidget with. A purple cat toy...

── .✦ Pocket watch : To avoid being late!

── .✦ Rabbit keychain : A gift he actually received from Che'nya, he always carries it on his bag.

── .✦ His phone!

★┊[Q&A] .ᐟ

ᯓ★ Does your OC have parents or family in the AU? If not, what is their current living situation?

Hopper actually has his two parents, although he doesn't live with them anymore because of isues with his father. He has a small scholarship helping him with his tiny appartment. His mother often wants to help him, which he refuses because he doesn't want her to worry for him.

ᯓ★ What are their thoughts on Quartz?

Hopper is actually quite fond of Quartz; he admires her determination (not for killing Azul since he doesn't know about this, but generally speaking). He would love to befriend her but he's too much afraid she would find him uninteresting and boring.

ᯓ★ What is their thoughts and relationship with Azul? How did they meet Azul?

Hopper doesn't really know if he should trust Azul or not, but he sure finds him cool and handsome (platonically speaking). Azul doesn't know much about Hopper, the two of them never really interracted before, they just met one day randomly. You know, a mutual making the two meet accidentally. Hopper finds Azul interesting /pos!

ᯓ★ What are their relationships with other characters/OCs?

Being in his own little space reading isn't really an advantage for him, since he doesn't really approaches people out of sight. He fears Floyd and Jade, wants to befriend people he thinks they might find him horrible, and has a crush despite thinking he's not worthy of love. Plus, his anxiety makes him hard to not having bad thoughts anytime someone speaks to him. "What if I'm not interesting?", "what if I'm bothering them?", "I'm sure they're mad now".

He admires Shuu (@oya-oya-okay), Viz (@twistedwonderlandshenanigans) and finds Yuubeni adorable (@bunniehunn). He also likes Sophie (@gl00myb3arz) and Yumi (@marinahavik)!

And obviously, has a huge crush on Che'nya, whom is a great friend of his! At least, Che'nya loves to prank and tell jokes to Hopper, calling him "little bunny". It has the effect of making him look like a tomato...

Floyd - "Hopper...? Wait, do you mean sea bunny? He's always running away like a little bunbun~"

Floyd doesn't know Hopper enough, as Hopper fears him. He finds him platonically adorable though.

Jade - "Hopper O'Latock seems very interesting, and intelligent, I assume. His taste in books are always quite interesting."

Like Floyd, Jade only knows Hopper through the books he's reading, when he can see the cover of it.

Riddle - "Hopper always find me to give me strawberry pies. He's a kind person, but also very naive."

Riddle and Hopper often speak to each other, they're friends but it seems like Hopper is a bit shy near Riddle, despite being older. Riddle loves it when the bunny boy is giving him the food he made.

Ace - "Bunny boy is always running everywhere, it's kinda funny!"

Ace likes to tease Hopper about his red cheeks everytime Che'nya is near. Outside this, they're good friends and Ace describes Hopper like "the least hostile thing on earth".

Che'nya - "My tail twitches whenever he's near... Must be the weather. Or maybe something much, much more interesting~"

or

Che'nya - "Some things are better left unsaid… but if you listen closely, maybe you'll hear the purr between my words~"

Maybe Che'nya has a secret crush on Hopper, who knows? They're really great friends after all, and he loves to trick him. What a mysterious cat.

ᯓ★ What grade/year is your OC?

Hopper is a third year (18).

ᯓ★ What is your OCs goal for the school year or in life?

He wants to have his diploma so he could finally work as a bookseller, have a house, being married and have children. As a really romantic person, his goal is more focused on his love life and possibly his family, and on freedom.

ᯓ★ Your OC is being framed for murder of another student by Quartz, how does your OC react to that? Does your OC know it's Quartz?

Hopper is absolutely terrified. Never in his life he would've kill someone, and being framed for something like this would freak him out. He doesn't even know is people would trust him or not. He would probably cry, or freeze, hoping people will trust him when he'll say he's not the author of the crime. The poor bunny boy doesn't even know Quarts is.

ᯓ★ Your OC notices Quartz carrying a weapon in her skirt pocket. That's strange since the female school uniforms don't have skirt pockets. Does your OC report this?

Hopper doesn't report this, but is very suspiscious. But then again, maybe the female school uniform has changed? Anyway, carrying a weapon is dangerous, but he's too anxious to do anything about this.

ᯓ★ Where is your OC usually with or at during school? Classes? With Azul? Skipping class? Where do they eat lunch?

During school, when not in class, Hopper is always found in the library, among books. When he's not at the library, he's outside, and if it's raining, he's at the library. Basic.

If the weather is nice, he's eating his own food he prepared outside. Otherwise, he eats at the cafeteria, or eat his own food inside it.

ᯓ★ How are your OC's grades?

Hopper's grade are okay, even good, but everytime it includes mathematics he struggles a bit, but he still tries...

Then again, thank you @quartztwst for this amazing AU! I love it so much!

˚₊ · »-♡→ Tag list (let me know if you want to be added!) :  @offorestsongs @lumdays @nemisisnemi @random-twst-and-oc-stuff @sungfairytales @skriblee-ksk

[hxrsheykisses]

OMG THAT LAST FIC WAS AMAZING! LIKE TRULY YOU’RE AN AWESOME WRITER!!! May I perchance ask for an oc x cannon fic of my own? Maybe? It’s Jackie and Bill they’re so toxic though idk if you’re comfy with Bill being… Bill

AUAAUAUAUA ofc I can🙏🙏🙏🙏♥️♥️♥️♥️ Thank you sm for being patient with me and requesting!!!

WARNINGS: Toxic Themes

💋 I HATE HER. 💋 | Bill Dickey x Jackie♥️

He can’t stand her. He just couldn’t stand her at all. Everytime he sees her, it’s like he’s suddenly spawned in the deepest pits of hell. Saying how he doesn’t “like” her is an understatement. Bill hates her.

She is everything that lurks in women. She is one of the many reasons why Bill hates on women so much and deems them as objects. She is just so full of herself, shows herself off as if she’s a prized possession, and thinks shes better than everyone just because she flaunts her tits and has a pretty(NOT) face.

Bill wonders, who the fuck does this girl think she is? She’s always been a needy bitch—hasn’t grown out of it at all. He doesn’t understand how a women like her can think that she’s all that when she’s clearly not. She dresses like a dumpster whore and will do anything to get laid—that’s what she looks like.

Oh god, don’t even get him started on her voice. Her voice is like nails on a chalkboard. The way she drags her sentences, talks like she actually means something despite her being in a man’s fucking world—she’s full of shit just like the shit she slaps on her face. Cakey makeup that she spends hours on—as fucking if. If Bill could, he would make sure that all those useless hours of spending time perfecting herself would go down the down the drain once he’s done with her. He just wants to slap that smirk right off her face.

He hates her hair, it’s sickly blonde and it’s terribly easy to point her out in a crowd.

He hates her eyes, too fucking blue. She always looks at him with those round eyes of hers while bating her lashes.

He hates her choice of clothing, it’s like she doesn’t feel whole without showing skin and she sucks ass at hiding it.

He hates her.

But a part of him—a toxic part of him feels himself wanting to get closer. He hates how his heart skips a beat whenever she gives him one of those looks. He hates how close she gets to him as she speaks, her eyes keeping contact with his own with zero shame. He hated the countless times another guy would ogle at her—not like she was worth staring at any fucking way.

He hated her, he hated himself.

One day—one fucking day, he will make sure that she knows not to mess around with him. He just wants her to be put in her place because obviously nobody else is doing it. She’s just some female who leeches onto male validation for a living—who craves the eyes of fellow men—who is stupid and doesn’t know shit about anything besides what could get a man going.

Jackie is nothing but a joke.

Jaxkie is nothing but a bug under his shoe.

Jackie is nothing but a woman who needs to be put in her place.

Jackie is nothing but a toxic and hateful yearn for Bill. That’s all that she ever is—that’s all that she ever will be.

God, he hates her so bad.

[st4rsharkz]

Locked out of heaven | Birdflash one shot

More on my ao3: starsharkz

Wally finally had enough, he's been sitting in his room for days now outside of college, crying and overreacting over the smallest issues or things. He hasn't gone out with anyone for weeks. Only pain and suffering filling up his empty head. Finally it was the summer break. What happened to make him feel like this? Wally has been fighting his feelings towards Dick for years now, but with every meeting of theirs, his heart starts twisting more and more, ever since the first day Barry introduced him to Dick and Bruce, nothing has been the same. The love started off as a feeling of overly overwhelming feel of needing the other guy next to him, not even for romantical stuff, even sitting together would be enough to make him happy, but the need slowly turned into a painfully burning need of feeling his touch every second, every day, for him to come back from missions and college to Dick hugging him and them eating together diners, watching movies, going out. The handsome brunette always had someone, that always made Wally feel guilty for wanting him for himself so badly, first Kori, Barbara even Donna and some other girls whose names Wally forgot. Dick never stayed single for a long time enough for Wally to be able to make a move, neither have he ever talked to his best friend about his sexuality, making the ginger guy question if that would even ever work out. Wally had girlfriends over the years, Linda for example, but everytime his mind kept coming back to Dick, every hug and kiss had him in his mind being in place of the beautiful women he's been with.

Wally stood up feeling how dizzy his head is, he watched every possible movie he could think of by now, he havent been picking up calls from Dick, scared he will hurt himself even more by hearing his voice. The feeling needed to end. As the phone called again, he saw the name and picture of his best friend on the screen. He quickly put on a jacket and took his keys, locked the house. He didn't even realize what time it is by now, it was quite dark outside, probably around 8 pm as Wally entered the nearest bar, ordered a drink. It was karaoke night, some drunk girls were singing love songs to eachother as a joke while badly playing guitar, even that small stupid thing made him feel sick. His phone rang again. Dick. He kept calling Wally, he wouldnt give up on trying to contact his best friend. The speedster finally picked up the phone after a few days of ignoring him.

-Wally! Whats going on? You havent picked up for like a week and a half now! I was so worrried.- The beautiful voice said, ringing in his ears and filling up his empty heart with warmth, somehow it made him feel relief, he felt safe. Before he could even reply, Dick spoke again.

-I'm in central city, just tell me where you are. Please.- It could be heard how worried he is, it was cute,

- Ugh, im in the bar next to my house.- Wally finally replied, his voice sounded raspy, like he hasn't drank any water in days, he didn't realize how bad he sounds. He cleared out his throat which made him sound normal again.

- Im sorry, Dick. I didn't mean to worry you.

- Don't be, ill be there in a few minutes.- Before Wally could reply, Dick ended the call, sending shivers down his spine. How will he explain everything to him if he can barely explain it to himself? It's so hard to live this way, but it either has to stay like this or their dear friendship to end which made him feel like vomiting by only thinking of it. He ordered another drink for Dick, as he saw his crush enter the bar. His beautiful face made Wally zone out, thinking of how many days he wished to saw him, touch him, feel him. Their eyes locked as Dick saw him sitting at a bar. His ocean eyes were deep, taking Wally away and not wanting to go back, wishing they were just his. Dick ran towards him as he hugged the ginger friend tightly not saying anythung. The pure silence made Wally feel bad, but at the same time, his heart didn't feel empty anymore. It was the first time hes felt happy in weeks.

- What happened, Wally? - Dick didnt let go of the hug, Wally could hear the sadness and relief in his voice, while his friend started tearing up. - I though something happened, don't ever do this again to me. Why did you ignore me?- It could be heard he's hurt by the whole situation, he finally has loosen the grip as he sat down in his chair. Wally one shotted the whole drink, to feel more confident as he looked the brunette in the eyes.

- I wanted to tell you something. But instead of saying it, ill do what you always loved the most about me. - The girls came down from the stage at the same moment Dick entered the bar, there were quite a lot of people there, but Wally didn't care, he just wanted his best friend to know. He stood up from his chair and grabbed the guitar. He came closer to the microphone. Dick didn't say anything, his face looked confused, he still had tears in his eyes, Wally could see he didnt sleep for days either.

„Forgive me, Dick." Wally thought to himself, as he saw all the eyes in the bar at him, it was the first time he actually felt scared of playing the guitar and singing, since he started playing. His fingers touched the strings as he started playing the song „Locked out of heaven" by Bruno Mars, it was their song, they always listened to it when they were patrolling gotham together, they liked singing it like they were in a musical. They havent done it for 5 years now, yet Wally still felt like the song belongs to them, like its engraved to their hearts more than initials of teenagers on a tree.

- Cause you make me feel like, ive been locked out of heaven! - Wally kept singing, he havent felt this much emotion in so long, all the time he was looking Dick into his eyes.

- Can I just stay here, spend the rest of my days here? - Wally sung as he started tearing up. Dick was holding tight onto himself as the song ended. The whole bar was clapping and cheering, everyone seemed to love it, but Dick, wet tears were falling down his face as Wally went down from the stage, he wasnt looking into Dicks eyes anymore.

- Another one. - The ginger said with a sad voice as the bartender started making him another drink, Dick grabbed Wallys hand and looked at the guy behind the bar.

- No need to. - He said as he looked Wally straight in the eyes, well atleast he tried to as the other kept trying to look another way.

- Dick- Wally started but Dick pulled him closer and kissed him not even caring about the other people around them. The moment was amazing, Wally felt like all the butterflies in the world were in his stomach tickling him. His face was burning as the cold tears of his were putting out the hurting fire.

- I love you too Wally. - Dick said as Wally pulled away from the kiss, gently touching the brunettes face, tucking his hair behind his ears.

- I love you so much. - The ginger said as they hugged eachother, the whole bar was cheering, but they didn't hear anything apart from eachothers heartbeats. They left the bar as they were walking next to each other.

- I broke up with Barbara. - Dick said looking at Wallys face.

- I always loved you. I needed to find you and feel you again.- He continued as they entered Wallys house. Without any words Wally went for a kiss with Dick, pushing him to the wall, the kiss was burning hot, best kiss of their whole lifes.

In the morning they woke up next to eachother, bare naked, they were looking at one anothers faces, as Wally smiled, knowing he's found his home, his heaven.

[waynes-multiverse]

I see you've successfully saved the glorious Ross gif 🤣

Ahaha I love this mention! 😂

At least he's feeling well enough to eat again and stopped destroying the office lol

Ha! I love her, she's such a badass.~

Hahaha I was considering if it was too much, but I could totally see her going at it again. She's definitely a "goes down swinging" kinda type lol

Btw, everytime I work in a Friends reference I think of you like "Aww, Alex will get this" 😂🫶

Ugh, she's so much stronger than me. I'd be a blubbering mess on the floor, poor thing. 😭😭

Oooh, I don't know about that. I think we can surprise ourselves in those situations ☺️ (She also had the advantage of sorta being prepared for it due to all the videos she's seen)

But yeah, she'd kill any escape room after this 😂

I love those moments where you as the audience know there's an answer here somewhere, but you just have to watch on edge as the person works it out in desperation. 🥲

Aah, same! I love these little moments where you just sit there, biting your nails, and hope they make it 🙈

And on the flip side, this is torture for Beau, a man of action, to not be able to do anything. To just wait and see if anything changes.

Lmao yes! He was going a bit nutty again when she was just saving her energy till she figured it out 😅

This is so truly intense -- it's cinematic in so many ways, and I'm loving this suspense...

I truly worked ages on this scene 😅 I usually hate writing action and prefer dialogue, but I tried challenging myself with this one lol

GAH! This is the delicious White Knight-saving angst that I live for. 🥹

I loved writing this so much! 😍 We all know reader is clearly a strong badass, but even she needs a little saving sometimes (or big one in this case lol)

Lmaoo this kind of pudding??

Hahaha yes 😂 Exactly what I had been thinking of

Aww in a way I do still feel bad for Randy, but "dissolved;" I think that's the right word for it as well. I love that last line in the scene. 💙

They at least parted on good terms. And yeah, definitely hard for Randy. He lost his wife and his best friend in one day 🥲

But he can move on now and find his own happiness again ❤️‍🩹

Awww haha, they're so cute!! I would've loved to see that reunion kiss. 🥹 But I have a feeling these two are finally off to their happy ending...

Haha honestly I completely forgot about the reunion kiss in a way. That whole rescue scene took me tf out. The happy ending kinda became a blurry, blissful bubble afterward 😂

I kinda liked the open ending in the hospital and then showing them in a "sitting on the porch together" kinda way 🥰🥹💕

Lol that is peak Beau behavior there! I love the rambling and the adorable fussing. Makes my heart so full. ❤️ Especially how she's just like, "sit down and be with me, you fool." 😂

Reader was definitely in a super chill, zen state (must be the near death experience) and Beau's fussing was disturbing her peace lol

I also found it very interesting how they both decided to retire. They've clearly been through the absolute wringer, plus the whole matter of Beau probably never feeling safe in that office again, and the reader needing time upon time to recover from all that trauma. It's a lovely new chapter for these two to have a quieter life together, whether or not they have kids down the line (though I love that conversation they had. Beau's line of “Look, I’m already retiring from the job – I don’t wanna retire from life,” had me dead lol). 🥹

There was a lot of "we've done the work, but we know what matters most" weaved into their conversation and decisions. They're just ready at this point to enjoy life and each other and avoid all the other crap 😅 (So happy you liked that line, tho! I thought it was so fitting for him to say 💚)

Thank you so much for all your sweet, insightful, and funny comments and reblogs, Alex!! 🥹🫶 Part of the fun of sharing stories here on tumblr for me is always the theories, the clues, the jokes, the ramblings, and the thirsting (lol) we get to exchange with our peers, so thank you for indulging me yet again 🤍

Polaris – Chapter 13

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, major angst, kidnapping, confined spaces, violence, injuries, drowning, CPR, life-and-death situations, the fluffiest ending (If any of these warnings trigger you, stay away ⚠️🫶)

Word Count: 7.4k

A/N: We're here! Last part, babes 😘 Thank you guys so much for sticking with me on this one. I know it was another wild ride, but I appreciated your sweet, insightful, and funny comments throughout 🥹🤍

Ready? Don't forget to breathe 😉

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 13: Sure And Certain

“What’s she doing?”

With a mouthful of Donno’s Special of the Day sandwich, Beau came to stand behind a whole group of people who had gathered around a laptop screen propped up on his desk.

He threw another sandwich wrapped in paper on the desk in front of Randy, who sat comfortably in his chair and nodded a ‘thank you.’ Behind him, Jenny leaned casually against the window sill with an intensely knitted brow. Cassie and Denise, on the other hand, had grabbed themselves a set of uncomfortable, worn chairs from the break room and sat on each side of Randy, staring musingly at the screen.

“I think she’s meditating,” Denise put forth.

“No, I think she’s sleeping,” Jenny said dryly.

“I don’t know…” Cassie’s brow furrowed.

Beau frowned as he stepped forward, stealing a glance at the livestream himself. You were still lying perfectly motionless on the long metal table in the middle of the room. They knew you were alive, though. They had watched you crawl up there and lie down. Sometimes, your eyes were open. Sometimes, they were closed for long periods of time.

“She’s still doing what she’s been doing for eight hours now,” Beau huffed. Honestly, he’d be more worried if it wasn’t so damn frustrating.

“Maybe the poor thing’s in shock after everything she’s been through,” Denise suggested sympathetically.

Beau hoped she wasn’t right. Seeing you give up didn’t sit well with him. He couldn’t watch you lie there alone in the cold until there was no air left anymore.

In all honesty, he had a confession to make: He’d never watched a single of Diane’s videos to the end. He knew you’d probably watched them a thousand times, but he couldn’t do it. He had watched parts of it, sure, but never the bitter end. He didn’t know how you'd done it. He always figured you were a lot stronger than him.

But maybe you’d seen something on those videos he didn’t know but had to.

“Y/N?” Randy scoffed at Denise’s proposal with conviction and shook his head. “No, she wouldn’t give up, and I doubt Turner scared her that much. She put a screwdriver in the guy, for crying out loud,” he argued his objection. “No, she’s thinking.”

Beau hated to agree with Randy but hoped to hell he was right.

“Maybe,” Cassie mused and squinted her eyes at the screen. “I think she’s staring at the light above her.”

With narrowed eyes, everyone drew in closer to the screen and observed you.

“I think Cass is right,” Jenny said and retreated to her old position, smirking.

Beau frowned anew and flailed his arms. “Why?”

Fucking Hal Turner.

He got you with a shovel, tied your hands, hauled you back to the cabin and sedated you.

You woke with a few meager slaps across your face before groggily being dragged through the woods at night on unsteady legs. You slipped in and out of consciousness a few times, but you knew Turner wasn’t strong enough to carry you, so he had to keep you awake enough to walk, but sedated enough to not fight back.

You, however, tried to memorize and plan as much as your dazed mind possibly let you. You remembered how long you’d walked from the cabin to the bunker – about thirty minutes. You knew which direction you’d walked as you’d glanced up at the stars – north. And you knew you had hiked slightly up, but not more than twelve degrees. You remembered the faint sounds of a river splashing close by.

Most importantly, you could still feel the screwdriver tucked into your sock in your left boot.

Turner hadn’t frisked you again – big mistake.

As soon as you’d reached the spot of the supposed bunker, you frowned when Turner removed a pile of leaves, moss and dirt from the forest floor and opened the metal hatch that hid underneath.

Oh, hell no…

You weren’t getting in there. If you hadn’t known it before, you surely knew it now.

You would’ve been fine with the cabin because you knew Beau and the department would eventually find it. He’d get a list of their properties and find it. Denise had been in charge of those, and she’d been meticulous.

You would’ve been fine with an above-ground bunker, or even halfway above, too. Once the team would find the cabin, they’d know Turner and you couldn’t have gone far. They’d find the blood and test it, realizing with relief that most of it wasn’t yours. They’d know you’d be in the general area, and Beau would move heaven and earth to find you.

But this thing? They’d never fucking find you here.

Roughly, Turner shoved you down the tight metal stairway, leading to a room you knew only too well from videos. Now, you were here and saw it all for real, like glimpsing behind the scenes of a movie set.

Why couldn’t it have been the Friends set in Hollywood? Instead, you had to visit Diane Newton’s arts and crafts project.

Hal Turner cut your ties – again. And you saw it as your perfect way to escape. Again.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

With your elbows and shoulders, you shoved Turner backwards and bent down, quickly retrieving the screwdriver from your boot. You spun around and thrust it straight into his left carotid artery.

He gasped a breathless sound, his eyes growing wide and white. You let go and stepped back.

You’d never killed someone before – not like this at least.

But then Turner inhaled a deep breath of air – strained, angry, fighting. And you finally understood where the phrase white-hot rage stemmed from.

The roaring Grizzly kicked you right into your bear trap injury. With a painful scream and a searing pain, you fell to your knees and clasped your wound.

He then fled up the stairs like a rat through a sewer cover, tossing the hatch shut behind him. There was the sound of a thick lock before some shuffling followed. At least he couldn’t have done a good job on covering up the entrance. Maybe they’d find you easier this way.

Better yet, you hoped Turner would succumb to his fatal injury not too far from the hatch. If they found his body close by, they could find you too, right?

At least you’d gotten the bastard…

You wanted to scream till your lungs were depleted of all oxygen, but you didn’t have enough air for a breakdown in this bunker. You took one last deep breath to ground yourself and closed your eyes.

Then, you opened them.

The bright neon light flickered above as your eyes darted around the room. The space was sparse, concrete walls peeling in places, as though even the structure was trying to escape. You didn’t want to think too much about how long you would be trapped here.

You already knew this place by heart and what would happen if you didn’t get out.

At the edge of the corner, sat a row of rusty metal lockers. Shuffling over on your good leg, you opened the shrieking door and found that the lockers held various odds and ends – tools, cans, an assortment of chemical bottles with faded labels, and a single, cracked lightbulb resting on its side.

The other victims had received these items as well but never pieced enough of it together to escape. A few drank the chemical bottles for a quicker death out of sheer desperation. While you unfortunately couldn’t solve Diane’s little riddle either, you swore to yourself poison would never be a last resort.

You’d seen those deaths – they had neither been quick nor painless.

You found a first-aid kit as well and lowered yourself to the cold ground, bandaging your ankle. As you tightened the bandage to stop the blood flow, your eyes glanced up the shelves.

Your breath hitched. In the back of your mind, a vague memory from your 7th grade science teacher stirred – something about pressure, something about triggering a chain reaction. You tried to push it away but the thought wouldn’t leave. Maybe an escape was possible after all. There were things you could use – you just needed to figure out how.

The jar of white powder caught your eye. It was too fine to be salt. The label was half-scratched off, but you could make out the word "sulfate." Next to it, a small container of copper wiring lay scattered across the shelf – tiny, thin strands coiled tightly like little snakes, their sharp ends glinting in the harsh neon light.

You pulled at your sleeves nervously, staring at the broken lightbulb once more. If you twisted it carefully, the filament inside would snap. Maybe. Then there was the sharp wire… You let the idea float in your mind for just a moment longer before shaking it off.

And there was that other thing. Something buried deeper in the corner, an oily rag, half-soaked in a pungent smell you couldn’t quite place. You made a mental note. They weren’t much, but they were something.

If you could just piece it all together…

Tiredly, you heaved yourself onto the large metal table in the middle of the room. It was harsh, cold, and uncomfortable, but it was all you had. You lied down on your back and stared at the ceiling, at the flickering neon light above you. Then, you closed your eyes again.

Think, think, think…

For hours, Beau had now stared at the grainy footage, watching your unmoving form. The neon light flickered overhead, casting long shadows against the cold, cement walls of the bunker. His hands were trembling as he gripped the armrests of his chair, his body taut with the weight of helplessness.

The others had left his office a while ago, scrambling to find a way to get you out. There was a search going on, a team of skilled rescuers turning over every stone in the general vicinity of the cabin. Beau knew you couldn’t be far from there. And still, he feared he wouldn’t find you in time.

Truthfully, he knew the only one that could get you out was you. If you just stopped lying there…

Nothing. Not even a twitch. What the hell were you thinking about?

You were alive. He knew you were, reminding himself of that fact on an hourly basis. But for all the good it did, it didn’t matter. The silence on the feed was more suffocating than any sound.

But then…

A subtle movement. A shift in the shadows, so slight that at first, he thought it was just his eyes playing tricks on him.

His heart skipped.

Your fingers twitched, just enough to catch his attention. And then, slowly, agonizingly, you dragged yourself up, struggling to sit. He watched the quiet shuffle of your body across the concrete floor. You were alive. You were still fighting.

“Guys!” his gruff voice called loudly for the cavalry, but he didn’t wait for them to flood into his office.

Beau leaned forward in his chair, holding his breath. His heart hammered in his chest as you lifted your head, your eyes flicking briefly to the camera – aware. You knew he was watching.

Your movements were shaky, too weak for anything swift, but they were purposeful. You scanned the room with desperation. The broken lightbulb in the rusty locker, jagged glass fragments scattered on the shelf, caught your attention.

You reached for it.

Beau’s stomach twisted. No, don’t…

But it was too late. You pressed the sharp edge against the skin of your palm, wincing with the effort as blood began to bead at the surface. His breath hitched, fingers curling into fists at his sides. The blood flowed in slow, steady streams, painting your hand.

You didn’t flinch.

You moved with a practiced precision, grimly intent. With shaky fingers, you scooped some blood on your pointer finger and pressed the pad to the wall, your arm trembling as you began to write.

Seismograph.

Beau’s eyes locked onto the word, his brow furrowing.

Seismograph?

You were so weak. You could barely hold yourself up, and yet, you were still thinking. Still trying. Then you turned to the wall once more, collecting more blood on your finger as you struggled to form the second word.

3 hours.

You stopped then, your body slumping against the wall, too drained to write any more. You didn’t need to. The message was clear.

The feed cut to static for a brief moment, the camera buzzing with distortion, before it returned to the silent, unchanging image of your still form against the wall. But Beau wasn’t looking at you anymore.

His mind raced, blood thundering in his ears. Seismograph. 3 hours.

A tremor ran through him – an earthquake in his chest.

Seismograph. You were giving him a clue. Something seismic. A signal of some kind. His gut twisted. He was supposed to know what it meant.

3 hours. What did that mean? Three hours before something? Three hours after something?

He didn’t have time to analyze it. You were sending him a lifeline. And whatever it meant, he was going to find you.

“What’s going on?” Jenny was the first to thunder into his office, her heart beating fast in her ribcage. She came to stand behind Beau and glanced at the screen, her brow knitting at the crimson words on the concrete wall in the same way his had. “Seismograph. 3 hours,” the blonde read aloud. “What does it mean?”

Cassie stood quietly in the doorframe, listening and thinking. “What is in those lockers?”

“I don’t know. We never found a bunker before, and Diane sure as hell ain’t telling us,” Beau huffed frustratedly.

“But there are chemicals of some kind,” Jenny pointed out, squinting her eyes at the laptop.

“Maybe she’s building a bomb,” Cassie proposed.

Beau pondered the theory for a beat. Then, he nodded. “We already know the area of the bunker. We could probably find her exact location through the tremors.”

“With a seismograph,” Jenny finished the thought. “Well, let’s hope she doesn’t blow herself up first.”

Beau hoped that, too. He didn’t even know you possessed bomb-making skills, but he figured you hadn’t known that fact about yourself either. This was by far not a thoroughly planned undertaking.

“Alright, get a damn seismograph here. I don’t care where you get it or what it costs. We’ve got three hours,” Beau barked his orders with a racing heart.

Your message had just bought him time, and he wasn’t going to waste it. You were still alive. He could still save you. And he wasn’t going to stop until he did.

Your breath came in short, labored gasps as you hunched over the crude metal table in the dark, sterile bunker. The faint hum of the camera feeding into the livestream echoed through the silence, the red light blinking softly as its lens captured your every movement, broadcasting your quiet panic.

You knew Beau was watching. They all probably were. You could almost feel their eyes on you, their silent judgment, their hope that this would work. They’d see the sweat glistening on your brow, the faint tremor in your hands as you worked on your little science fair project.

But it wasn’t fear that made you shake now. It was the cold certainty that time was running out.

You carefully twisted the wire around the small, makeshift device you’d cobbled together from the limited supplies at your disposal. Every movement was deliberate, every breath controlled, even as your mind raced a marathon. You lifted the device to your ear, listening for the faint click as you tightened the final screw. Done.

The one thing they had to get right was the seismic readings.

The bomb was crude – imperfect – but it was all you had. The plan was simple: blow the door open if you could, cause a seismic tremor, and hope the team could triangulate your location. They would track the explosion on the seismograph, find your coordinates, and come for you.

If you were lucky.

Maybe you should leave another message behind for him. In those hours you had lain on the table and pondered, you had thought about your escape. You had also thought about various torturous ways to kill Diane. You had celebrated your little win against Turner. But most of all, you had thought about Beau.

Simple things. The color of his pine green eyes. The smell of his leathery cologne. The sound of his hearty laugh. The warmth of his large hands. Would you ever see, hear, or feel those things again?

A tear streaked your cheek that you swiftly wiped away. Sobbing would cost you too much goddamn air. You couldn’t afford it.

You stole one last glance at the camera, your face a grim mask of resolve. Then you moved quickly, setting the device in place. You looked at the door on top of the steps – solid metal, bolted shut, impossible to open without the right tools.

Tools you didn’t have.

You hurried down the stairs and pushed the metal table onto its side, using it as a shield from the blast as you hunched down low behind it. It had been a little over three hours. It was time. With a sharp breath, you pushed the button of the remote detonator.

The explosion hit like a fist. The sound was deafening, but muffled in the confined space. Your ears rang as the shockwave slammed into you, throwing you back against the cold, unforgiving concrete wall. Your head spun, and for a moment, everything went black.

Then came the tremor.

It rippled through the ground like a violent pulse. The bunker groaned – metal creaking, concrete cracking. The lights flickered and went out, plunging you into near-total darkness, save for the dim emergency glow above the door.

And then, with a deep, bone-rattling crack, something shifted above you.

You scrambled to your feet, disoriented. What the hell was that?

A series of sharp, cracking sounds echoed from the ceiling, followed by a wet, muffled splintering. Your breath caught in your throat as a large root – gnarled and thick as a limb – suddenly pierced through the bunker’s ceiling, splintering the metal and concrete. The roots of a large tree slithered down – a slow, creeping thing – and it didn’t stop. It tore through the ceiling like it had been waiting for this moment, its jagged edges scraping against the walls.

And then – water. Cold, relentless water began pouring in, cascading through the new hole in the roof, spilling across the floor in an uncontrolled flood.

Fuck.

Your heart pounded wildly as you stumbled backward, the water already rising around your ankles, creeping steadily toward your knees. You could hear the steady drip of water splashing against the cold, metal floor, each drop sending a ripple through your chest.

The livestream camera remained on, the blinking red light still steady, but your mind was running a mile a minute – panic rising like a tidal wave. You had no time. You had to move, had to act. But the water was already rising faster than you could think. The air was thick, the walls seemed to be closing in on you, and the roots above groaned ominously as if the earth itself was about to swallow you whole.

You ran toward the door, your boots splashing through the growing puddle. But aside from causing a giant hole in the ceiling, the bomb hadn’t done enough damage to escape. The root’s tendrils were still creeping down from above, twisting around the ceiling. You could hear the scrape of it, its thick fingers reaching into the dark corners of the room.

The sound of the water filled your ears as it surged up around your waist. You stumbled, falling to one knee as the icy liquid engulfed you. Your chest tightened, panic clawing at your throat.

It was too much. The explosion, the quake, the roots, and now the rising water – everything was converging at once. A part of you knew this was it. You wouldn’t get out. They wouldn’t get here in time to save you. But a small flicker of hope was still alive in your heart.

You clutched the camera’s wire, the blinking red light still visible in the murk, as if it was the last lifeline you had left.

“Please,” you breathed, although you knew they couldn’t hear you, but your voice was barely audible over the rush of water anyways. “Please, find me.”

The woods were dense, the trees thick with fog and shadows. Beau ran through the underbrush, his boots pounding against the damp earth, the scent of pine and wet leaves filling his lungs. Sweat stung his green eyes, his breath coming in ragged bursts as he pushed his body beyond its limits. His heart thundered in his chest, not from the exertion, but from the terror building inside him, growing with each passing second.

He’d found it.

The seismograph had done its job. The tremor from the explosion had sent ripples through the earth, and in those ripples, he’d pinpointed the location. There was no time to think, no time to second-guess. He didn’t know how much time you had left, but the second the signal went off and the icy water of a nearby river had wound its way into the confined space, rising like a tide as it flooded the bunker, he’d known it could only be minutes till you took your last breath.

Beau’s mind reeled at the thought.

He stumbled over a fallen log, his eyes never leaving the ground ahead of him. He was so close. It had to be here. He had seconds to make it. He knew it had to be deep. The bunker was buried beneath the forest floor, hidden like a trap, and there was only one way in: a hatch maybe, barely visible among the trees, the earth heavy with moss and years of neglect. He had to get there – now.

He could hear the team searching all around him, crying with calls of your name that echoed through the trees. As he stared up through the tops of the towering pines, he could see the North Star twinkling brightly above him. His heart twinged. His gaze dropped and then landed on the far beam of his flashlight. Something flickered in the distance, just a few yards away from him, buried in the moss.

He stumbled back onto his feet, his trembling hands picking up a small, golden band. His chest seized.

The ring.

His ears picked up the babbling sounds of water. The river was close, only a few feet away. That had to be it. You’d left him another sign.

Grabbing his flashlight, his hands hastily searched the ground. His fingers brushed a thick patch of bramble, and then – there. His breath halted. Metal.

The hatch.

He skidded to a stop, his hands shaking as he dropped to his knees and cleared the leaves and brush away. The metal was a bit busted and bent out of shape, probably from the bomb, but the bolt that kept it tightly shut was still in tact. His fingers fumbled for the lock, every second stretching longer than the last.

“It’s here!” Beau yelled loudly, calling the others for help. “She’s here!”

His mind kept circling back to you. You were trapped down there. Trapped and drowning.

I’m coming, darlin’. Hold on.

Finally, his fingers found the latch, and with a metallic groan, the hatch creaked open.

The stench of damp earth hit him first – the cold, stagnant air of a place that had been shut off from the world for too long. His flashlight flickered as he shined it down into the narrow opening. The steps below were steep, the darkness absolute. He could hear the distant drip of water, and with it, a rising sense of urgency.

He didn’t waste time. Without a second thought, he grabbed the flashlight and began to descend, the metal of the hatch scraping against the edges of the door as he pulled it wide open. His breath caught as he stepped into the narrow stairwell.

The moment he hit the bottom, the sound of rushing water was unmistakable.

The tunnel was flooded. The water was rising fast, covering the floor in murky, black waves. The small concrete room at the base of the stairs had become a watery tomb, the level inching toward the ceiling.

He shouted your name, his voice crackling in the damp air.

But there was no answer.

Beau pushed forward, his heart in his throat, eyes scanning every inch of the flooded room. Your presence was all he could feel – your spirit, your strength, your last message. He had to find you.

A sudden thud echoed through the chamber, the faint sound of something – or someone – shifting beneath the water.

Beau’s eyes locked on the back wall of the room, where the water was thickest, swirling around a pile of debris. His mind screamed. The seconds were melting away, and he couldn’t afford to waste a single one.

The wall was crumbling under the pressure, but the thing that struck him wasn’t just the damage. It was the stillness. There was no movement. No air.

His pulse spiked as he waded through the rising water, kicking through the murk with his boots, moving faster now, hands trembling as he shoved aside debris.

Please, please, please…

And then, beneath the surface, a hand – limp, floating like a ghost. Beau lunged, his fingers brushing against your wrist, cold and unyielding.

He cried your name again, his voice hoarse with panic as he pulled you to him, cradling your body against his chest.

Your skin was ice-cold. Your hair matted against your face, your body limp in his arms. You were unconscious – or worse.

Don’t you dare be dead. Don’t you dare.

Beau’s breath came in harsh bursts, his hands fumbling against you, trying to find any sign of life. The water was rising too fast.

He wasn’t going to lose you. Not like this.

With a single, desperate motion, he hoisted you into his arms. He didn’t stop. His feet pounded the water-soaked concrete as he bolted back toward the stairs, his lungs burning, the world blurring around him.

Get out. Get out.

He could feel the water rising behind him, flooding the room with the force of a tide. He didn’t know if the two of you would make it. He didn’t know if he could make it.

But he was going to try. He was going to fight like hell to keep you alive.

The hatch was there, just ahead, the only way out. He pushed harder, faster, as the water reached his knees, then his waist. Every breath was a battle. Every second felt like an eternity.

With one final push, he reached the top of the stairs, stumbling out into the fresh air, gasping for breath, his legs weak beneath him. He laid you on the ground, your limp body draped across the earth.

Beau’s hands were shaking as he knelt beside you. “Darlin’,” he whispered, shaking you gently.

Nothing.

Tears blurred his vision as he pressed his ear to your chest, listening for any sign of life.

A faint, fragile beat.

You were still with him.

He could barely breathe, panic threatening to swallow him whole, but he knew he had to keep it together.

He leaned over your body, his hands moving quickly. “Come on, darlin’. Come on…” His voice cracked as he positioned his hands, interlocking his fingers over your sternum. He gave two hard compressions, the sound of his palms meeting your chest too loud in the thick silence.

Still nothing. Your skin was frozen, your lips tinged blue.

His breath hitched, and he started again – one, two, three…

His heart hammered in his chest as he leaned down, pinching your nose and sealing his mouth over yours. He breathed into you, feeling the faint rise of your chest beneath him.

Please, please, don’t leave me.

He gave you another breath, then returned to the chest compressions – one, two, three…

Time seemed to stretch on endlessly, each moment more desperate than the last. His hands moved faster, his fingers slick with water and sweat as he pressed into you again and again. He wasn’t thinking. He couldn’t.

He hadn’t even taken note of the crowd that had gathered around him, watching the dire spectacle.

Finally – after what felt like a lifetime – your body jerked beneath his hands. You gasped, a harsh, ragged breath, and Beau nearly collapsed in relief. He cradled your head gently, his green eyes searching your face as you coughed weakly, water spilling from your mouth.

“You’re okay. You’re okay,” he breathed into your hair, his voice thick with emotion and eyes filled with tears as he kissed your crown repeatedly, his hold tight around your body.

You opened your eyes, just a sliver at first, and then you blinked, your hand weakly reaching for his cheek before it dropped to his chest.

“Beau…” you whispered, your voice barely a breath before you let out the first few sobs and coiled against him.

“It’s alright. I’m here.”

And for the first time in days, Beau let himself breathe as he steadied your trembling frame in his embrace.

Hospitals weren’t your favorite thing in the world. In fact, you had pretty much avoided them your whole life. You’d screamed your way through your tonsils surgery when you were five. You refused to get your broken arm cast when you were fourteen. But there was one thing you had always cherished during your involuntary stays:

Pudding.

Randy was the first person that stopped by early in the morning. You didn’t know if that decision had been a collusive one, agreed upon by the whole team, but you were grateful for the visit – more grateful when he brought you your sweet treat.

Something had been going on, though, while you were locked up – you could tell. As you’d clung to Beau’s chest last night in the forest, you caught Randy in the crowd around you before he ducked his head and retreated into the shadows. Your heart broke at the sight.

Beau didn’t leave your side, though, even riding in the ambulance with you while reassuring you throughout. He held your hand tightly, but his shoulders were stiff. And when they wheeled you out of the emergency room, the doors closed in front of him. You hadn’t seen or heard from him since.

You’d only slept for about five hours, but it had been a deep slumber. You had been out like a light. But as soon as you woke, you felt the aches of your body. There wasn’t a single limb or organ that didn’t groan in pain. Your ankle was the worst, though – the doctors told you you were lucky you got to keep it by the degree of infection it had suffered. The murky water of the river surely hadn’t helped cleaning it.

Sepsis, hypothermia, drowning, and lifelong trauma were just a few of the things you had to recover from.

There was also the dissolution of your marriage – you’d finally found the right term. Not widowed, not divorced – dissolved.

Randy stayed for three hours, and you had an honest and long talk. Oddly enough, being in his presence didn’t feel strange anymore. It felt familiar.

While your brain had adjusted, your heart remained steadfast. Randy had recognized it too and conceded. When he left your bedside, you sent him a smile with tears brimming in your eyes.

A chapter closed. A song ended. But your heart was at peace.

Beau’s heart pounded furiously in his chest as he stood glued outside your hospital room. Every laugh that echoed through the door felt like a gut punch.

Randy had asked to speak to you first. Beau had granted him the request – not that it had been really up to him. But Randy had been gracious last night, and the sheriff knew it couldn’t have been easy.

Beau had arrived at the hospital around noon, only to find you and Randy were still talking. Not only talking but laughing. While his heart murmured a tiny bit, he supposed it was a good sign. Who said you had to throw plates or the occasional vase at each other?

Twenty minutes later, Randy finally exited and ran straight into Beau around the corner, who had leaned against the wall and tried to answer the many nosy questions of the group chat. He didn’t know why the hell Cassie had invited him into this one…

“Oh, hey.” Randy chuckled lightly as he bumped into Beau, eyeing him with a suspicious brow. There was the flash of a smirk on his face.

Eager, are we? Beau could read Randy thoughts, even though his former friend refrained from saying them out loud.

“Hey.” Beau’s voice was low. He swallowed thickly as he tried his hardest not to avert his gaze to the linoleum flooring. “How is she?”

“In good spirits,” Randy replied but then paused. “For now. I think the morphine’s kicking in.”

“So, uhm–”

Beau didn’t know where that sentence would end. Flat-out asking Randy how your conversation went would’ve just been pathetically nosy – and rude. His mama had raised him better than that.

“I’m going back to Houston,” Randy still answered the unasked question.

“With, uhm–” Your name hung on the tip of Beau’s tongue before he bit down, noting Randy’s shaking head.

“Don’t push it.”

“Right…” Beau smacked his lips and cleared his throat, his hand scratching the nape of his neck. “So, what about you and me, huh? I know right now’s a stretch, but maybe down the road we could grab a beer?”

Randy’s lips pursed at first – unsure. But after a beat passed, he nodded slightly. “Maybe, yeah.” He hesitated. “Hit me up if you’re ever in Houston, alright?”

“Yeah, alright.” Beau’s lips twitched to a smile of surprise, but he still wished there was more he could do, more he could offer. It didn’t feel enough. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

Randy gave him a tight-lipped nod and patted him on the shoulder as he passed him. “You too.”

Beau watched Randy angle towards the elevators before exhaling a deep breath. Green eyes then drifted to your door. His heart was both elated and heavy. Questions circled in his mind.

What now?

The case was as good as over. Would you leave now? Where would you go? Beau knew your home was in Houston. Should he move back there, too? Would you even want him to? He’d broken up with you. Again. Were you still mad at him for it? He had tried to restrain himself last night, not knowing where the two of you stood. He held your hand in his, even though it was your whole body he wanted to keep holding in his arms.

You’d chosen no one. Maybe this was a day of break-ups for you.

Beau’s knuckles softly knocked on your door before he entered. Unsurely, he stood until your eyes glanced up and found his. A smile rose on your lips.

“Hey, there you are. You just missed Randy,” you said.

At a loss for words, Beau stared at you for a moment, his heart hammering in his chest. You still looked pretty rough – hooked up to IVs, your face and arms covered in bruises and cuts. But at least you were here – alive. There was some color back in your cheeks. Until a few hours ago, he wasn’t sure he’d ever get to see you again.

“Oh, uh, passed him in the hall,” Beau finally said and obnoxiously cleared his throat. “Said he was going back to Houston.”

“Yeah, he told me. I gave him my apartment,” you said, your voice a casual melody as you ignored the tension that was building between you two.

Beau’s brows shot up. “You gave him your place?”

“Least I could do. I sold his home.”

“Where are you gonna stay?”

“Oh, I don’t know yet. Guess I’m kinda homeless now. Again,” you said and hid the hint of a smile. You could see his wires were crossed.

“Hmm,” he hummed and shifted on his heels.

“Thank you,” you then said softly, trying to fight the tears that pricked your eyes. You swallowed heavily. “For saving me, you know? Bringing me back to life…”

“Don’t mention it,” he replied with a tight-lipped smile and a shake of his head, although a lump formed in the back of his throat at the haunting image of you, limb in his arms. He never wanted to see something like this again. He never wanted to feel that crippling, numbing fear ever again.

You snorted slightly at his understatement, fumbling with your fingers in your lap. “Feel like I have to. They told me you gave me CPR for three minutes straight. They said I was pretty much gone.”

“They’re exaggerating. It wasn’t that long,” he brushed off. “‘Sides, I wasn’t gonna let you die on my watch.”

“Like I said, thanks,” you reiterated and sent him a smile. “So, why are you standing so far away like I’m radioactive?”

Beau pursed his lips. “Well, you are kinda my kryptonite, darlin’.” He scratched the back of his neck, his boots still not moving closer. “Don’t really know where we stand, y’know? I mean, last time… that morning… I guess I’m tryna say I’m sorry for puttin’ you through that. So, on a scale from one to ten, how mad are you at me right now?”

“Well, if you put it like that… zero.” You grinned teasingly. “Hard to stay mad at you, considering you’ve saved my life, you know? I’m willing to forget your momentary stupidity. Well, if it really was momentary…”

“Oh, it was,” Beau confirmed, your heart expanding with a breath of relief. “Going with an insanity defense here. So… what does that mean?”

Musingly, you bit down on your lip. “I don’t know. Guess you’ll have to come closer and find out.”

Beau’s lips hiked to a wide, genuine smile for the first time in days. His feet began moving toward you.

Enjoying the warm rays of sunlight on your face, you exhaled blissfully as you sat outside the trailer, leaning comfortably back in your chair.

“There ya go – one extra black, extra strong cup of joe.” Beau handed you your favorite mug, his pine green eyes drifting to your injured leg, propped up on a wooden stool in front of you.

“Thank you,” you replied with a smile and practically inhaled the black liquid, its warmth filling you.

“How’s the ankle? That stool looks uncomfortable,” he noted, brushing his beard. His head tilted. “You need a pillow? Imma grab you one. Anything you need, darlin’. Officially retired since yesterday, you know? I’m here all day. Just say the word, and I’ll make it happen.”

Amused, you laughed a little. “I don’t need a pillow. The ankle’s fine. Just sit down next to me and enjoy the sun, will you?”

“It’s freezing.”

“I like how the snow twinkles in the sun,” you said and patted the chair next to you. With a groan, Beau sat down, wrapping his suede jacket a little tighter around himself while you sat cozily draped in the Sherpa jacket you had stolen from his closet. It was big and wide and warm and smelled heavenly like him. “‘Sides, I have a pretty nice jacket to keep me warm.” He frowned a little at you, but an amused smile twitched on his lips. “You said I should make myself comfortable – anything I wanted.”

“Didn’t think you’d raid my closet,” he huffed playfully.

“Hey, I only came here with a tiny carry-on.”

You’d been released from the hospital last night after spending a full week there. In the meantime, Beau had decided to hang up the sheriff’s hat, handing the badge off to Jenny – you’d fully agreed with the decision. You knew his heart hadn’t been in it for a while now.

He’d also asked you to move in.

And moreover, you’d finished your last reports and then handed in your resignation at the FBI. One serial killer kidnapping was enough for you. Diane had showed you where your limit was, and that was okay. You looked forward to a quiet life with the man beside you. It was its own adventure. God knows Diane’s life wouldn’t be as happy and peaceful behind bars.

Neither of you had spoken to her since your rescue. Sheriff Hoyt had handled all things on that end. By the amount of evidence they had to go through, Ted even surmised her trial wouldn’t start until three years from now. Until then, Beau and you had promised each other you wouldn’t waste another thought on her.

Well, you supposed you had to waste some thoughts on her. A big publisher from New York had already approached you about a book deal – and the money was more than good.

“Guess we’ll have to go down to Houston to get your stuff once you’re back on your feet,” Beau said.

Musingly, you scrunched your nose and hummed. “Not sure that’s necessary. It’s not gonna fit in the trailer anyways – not with your extensive closet.”

Amused, Beau pursed his lips and chuckled. He rubbed a hand through his beard. “Yeah, I was thinking about that… Maybe we should move. Get a bigger place, you know?”

“Do they make bigger Airstreams?” you murmured teasingly into your mug, cocking an eyebrow.

His tongue poked the inside of his cheek. “I was thinking more along the lines of a house. A ranch, maybe.”

“What about a houseboat?”

“Nah, that wouldn’t work with the kids. Try keeping a toddler in a life jacket all day,” Beau quipped, shaking his head. He didn’t even seem to notice what had slipped out of his mouth.

Your brow creased. “Kids?”

His wide eyes found yours, mouth opening and closing. He let out nervous breath. “Yeah, uh, something else I wanted to talk to you about…”

“Are you pregnant?” you joked and snorted into your coffee. Then, your brow furrowed. “Wait, am I? Did the doctor say something to you? Why would you smuggle tequila into my room if you knew?”

“No one’s pregnant, darlin’…” Beau laughed softly, his hand reaching out to cover your thigh. “I was just thinking maybe more a down-the-line kinda thing. In the, uh, near future, you know?”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. “Well, uhm, I didn’t think that was on table. We’ve never talked about it. I mean, I honestly didn’t think you’d want to…”

“Kinda gettin’ tired of people always assuming things about me,” Beau retorted with a little smirk. He squeezed your thigh. “Kids are on the table, darlin’.”

“Huh.”

Clearing his throat, Beau leaned forward in his seat. “You know, I had a little chat with Randy…”

You scoffed in surprise. “He actually told you?”

“Bigger question is, why didn’t you tell me?” Beau’s brow raised almost scoldingly. He was a pretty great dad.

“Honestly? Because it’s none of your business. That was between me and my then-late husband,” you replied with a sharpness that matched his look – there was a playfulness lying underneath, though. You both knew the other had a point. You exhaled a long sigh. “Look, that was four years ago. A lot has changed since then. I haven’t really thought about it since Randy’s funeral. Then Mexico happened. God knows we were nowhere near ready for a conversation like this…”

You gave him a shrug of your shoulders and sipped on your coffee.

“So, you don’t want kids?”

“Do you?”

Beau chuckled lightly, his fingers tapping the chair’s armrest. “Look, I’m already retiring from the job – I don’t wanna retire from life,” he said. “Sure, for a long time, I wasn’t thinking about another kid, but Emily’s almost off to college. Would be nice to feel needed again, do it all over… I don’t wanna fish every day till I drop.”

You snorted a laugh.

“So? What d’you say?”

Biting down on your lip, you glanced behind you at the Airstream. Then you found his green eyes and grinned. “Yeah, I think we’ll definitely need a bigger place. Maybe something between a houseboat and a ranch?”

Beau could barely contain his smile but played along. “And what would that be?”

It ended up being a lake house. Beau fished every morning. You watched him and the sunrise from the window as you wrote your novel.

The baby arrived by next Christmas.

THE END

I think reader would be unstoppable in an Escape Room 😂

I so hope you enjoyed this last part, loves! What a wonderful journey it's been. Thank you to every single one of you from the bottom of my heart 🤍

And PS: I do have a little future one-shot in mind for them 😉

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[raphaellight]

Can we talk about how Adrien is actually a good liar in Miraculous? And I mean, GOOD good liar, so good if he wanted, he would give Lila run for her money?

I don't know if he looks at Marinette or Croussaints

So, he is Chat Noir and the fact noone figured him out yet is placed mostly at the fact that 1. People are generally blind in this show 2. He acts so differently with the mask on actuall viewers forget he is Chat. But I want to make a case that he is second best liar in the show after Lila and only second best because he is good hearted.

But first, why would he be a good liar? Apart from having to cover his superhero identity, what other reasons he has to lie? Well, remember the saying "Strict parents raise great liars" and it shows in my opinion. Take Chloe as an opposite. She is many things but I think we never see her rely on lying to achieve what she wants. Quite the opposite, Chloe as a villain of many plots threatens to expose uncomfortable truths, she never makes things up. Or Marinnete. She can spit some lies, but she is overly dramatic anytime she has to say them. "No, me, like you, NOOOO, I just like fashion, YEAH, FASHION, that's it." "It was totally a prank, I knew all this time you were a statue, OF COURSE, what other thing would it BE?" "I'm in love with you Chat Noir". She has engaged, but preety louse parents. As long as she hits her marks and doesn't cause much trouble, Mari is let louse and can do whatever she wants without explaining herself, so she doesn't have to lie that much.

Adrien? This boy didn't had a single free second until Gabriel brough his digital rings to the market and made digital copy of Adrien to use. And yet, Adrien sneaked out to school, which Chloe knew he was coming, despite Adrien not having his fathers approval yet, sneaked out constantly out of his room, managed to run from his parents to see the movie. All while one misstep and he was severly punished. That enviroment teaches kid how to be on his toes. Strict parents raise great liars. Now to some examples:

"Technically not, because I never told him about it." The one with akumatized train. Best lies are unspoken ones. Adrien knows that everytime you lie you need to defend it so the best strategy is not to lie when simply shuting up about something suffices (that's actually something he does better than Lila, that b*tch can't shut up).

"We're not leaving, we're just gonna help a friend." Best case of 'attach the lie to the truth' strategy. We will help friend, how long will it take and where will we need to go to finish, especially given that it's Marinette? Who cares, I never lied (not the one that will most surely keep him out of trouble, but good enough in a moment for his guard and Kagami's mother to let them walk away from them)

M: "I got transformed, into a knight" A: "So do I. What a knighmare." Lanching onto someone elses explenation that is really hard to argue, while not giving time to be confronted about it AND adding a stupid joke so people's attention is divided. Important disclaimer, I don't think Adrien does it intentionally, he is just attuned to phrasing things in a way that got him into the least amount of trouble with his strict upbringing. It's more of a sharpened thru years instinct than some masterming constant chess game. Like here. He just made a joke, but it perfectly fits into him wanting to hide the truth.

"I wanted to apologize for my Kwami. I don't know what he was doing in that elementary school" Marinette as Ladybug combined mouse and fox miraculous to create an illusion of being in two places at the same time to make sure Chat doesn't suspect her of being Ladybug. Meanwhile Adrien manages to completly lose the trail of himself with one sentence. It's great on so many levels, as he not only phrases it so casually noone would think he carefully chose every word, he also attaches the lie to the truth (Plagg was acting up) and puts attention somewhere else (I apologize for his behaviour), like he didn't even mean to say it was elementary school. Everything mentioned before combined in one, casuall sentence that rivals Marinette's conveluted plan based on superpowers. Yep, he is good liar.

And last but not least, "I'm sorry I asked you stand in for me earlier. You must think I'm not very brave." If you look for advice how to lie, you probably will often meet the 'cover the truth with lie that is embarrassing/puts you in bad light' advice. Adrien is willing to weight his path and sacrifice his ego to fit whatever goal he has in mind.

And don't even get me started on how he managed to catfish Ladybug by pretending to be Catwalker for a whole night. He is so capable of twisting the truth he can bend his miraculous suit to his means. It took a bit of effort, but as far as we know, no longer than a day of practice. And also, he had his schedule filled in possibly to the last minute. But out of superhero pair, he is always the one with spare time to spend with LB. He has to lie almost everyday to everyone around, to people that get PAID to keep an eye on him, and he manages to get away with it this hole time (almost, of course there are setbacks). Really, when Adrien said in season 5 "Lila is a compulsive liar and really good at it" he knows from his own experience. Game recognizes game. Good he uses it mostly to ditch on his responsabilities and cover his superhero identity.

I haven't watch any season 6 episode yet, so I really hope this post doesn't become disproven in a moment by dumping our boy down. Miraculous has a nag for doing that.

[chenlezip]

SELLING MY MOOTS 🤍 ⋆˚࿔

been tagged a few so i thought.. why not!! thank you to those who have tagged me :3 why did i struggle thinking of cons guys..

@hyckvr

pros : treats me to food sometimes when we go out (lowkey my sugar mommy), funniest person i know, let me drag her around wembley for dreamies when they were in london, deals with me talking about mark, jaemin, chenle and jaehyun 24/7, lives close to me god bless, one of my bestest friends im forever grateful for her.

cons : forces me to spend money (literally bought a hipper that ive been wanting for my phone for ages because of her asking me 'am i getting one' OR WHEN SHE SAYS 'if i buy an album u buy one'), will put herself before you in games cough overwatch and dbd cough..

price : 10 million & give me mark lee so she can have haechan with her - if not... no price shes gonna have to deal with being stuck with me.

@ayukas

pros : literally the sweetest, will match your energy (when i first slid in her dms with a haechan pic and she responds with mark), so so pretty omfg, always so supportive it means the world.

cons : OUR TIME DIFFERENCE!!! :( , ending her smau soon i am not happy (im kidding i love u sm but im heartbroken).

price : no no no not selling unless mark takes me out on a date which will never happen sooo....

@blondemrk

pros : so funny and so sweet, WILL send ideas and i am gonna eat them up, early access to some works (i LOVE it!!!), so so talkative which makes you feel so comfortable!

cons : another markf (im kidding), no cons at all.

price : mm.. 500 pound, let me sign an nda for jaemin and i to be together.

@polarisjisung

pros : LITERALLY KNOWS TROUBLEMAKER???? (ive never met anyone who also used to like them), so cute and so talkative i love talking to her we just ramble on about different things, feel so so comfortable !! (also not to mention such a pretty theme and a good writer).

cons : made a god damn feet unit with me for nct...

price : let us have a double date with chenji and i'll think about it..

@injvns

pros : literally one of the cutest renjun fans ever (and the biggest one i know - everytime i see jun i think of her), thought of me while seeing something on pinterest .. sobbed, fellow ahgase omg kiss me, best style!!!

cons : KEEPS DISAPPEARING !! leo.. please..

price : no price i like keeping my moots, is there a theme?

tags (also to all my other moots i didnt mention i love u all so so much!!!! :( dont feel pressured tags!) : @jjjjeonww @susicheng @hyckvr (feel pressured paige) @viasdreams @anniebeckcalla

[obito-in-disguise]

Hi! I just wanted to say, I love your work. Your blog is like finding a gold mjne, everything is so good.

I write myself, and I totally wanted to be moots with you but I went through your page, please don't think I'm creepy, and there was nothing about your moots, so I thought maybe you don't have any?

Are you not like a mutuals person orr, like I don't want to make you uncomfortable if you're not into it, I just wanted to know, bye have a great day❤

Omgg I've been cracking up at the 'maybe you don't have any' for the past 10 minutes, girl please😭

At first I was bit confused but, I get what you're saying honestly. Some people tag their moots all the time and I've come across a sizeable number of blogs on here that have an entire post (linked to the masterlist and all) about their mutuals, and honestly it's so cute😭

I do have mutuals girl😭 but social anxiety has my ass like this 🤞🏻.Not everybody might be into the whole tagging on all your works thing. I would hate to make them uncomfortable or bother them you know?🥲

Now that I think about it, I would love if someone tagged me on their work all the time. I would feel so special lmao.

I didn't even know people noticed stuff like this 😭 but consider this a mutuals appreciation post I guess.

These are my lovely mutuals;

@catlover19282

@jinxiewritings , @jujuscrolled , @ivyvenus333 , @iambilliejeanok are writers as well, feel free to check out their blogs, some of the fandoms they write for are in the tags. I absolutely eat up their work everytime.

@s8tnn makes cute wallpapers and icons, check those out as well!

I'm glad you like my work, we can totally be moots. Have a great day babes 🧡

[lady-shadow-and-darkness]

As much as I hate verlaine, I have to admit that the man suffering in the trenches of depression after Rimbaud's death is perfect for my rimlaine.

[psychomusic]

induced to me by my contemporary art exam AND a rewatch of rebels after years that. got me into sabezra unexpectedly AND i updated krita and there were many new brushes i wanted to try

refs (IF U CAN PLS HELP ME FIND THE ORIGINAL COSPLAYERS i can't find anything EDIT: found them!! they're starwars_irl on insta and @rebelartistwren / lionesscosplay on insta. thank you guys <3) and ✨colored version✨ under the cut

i can't find themmmmm I've been looking for 2 days but all i found were uncredited reposts

anyway they look amazing

i really wanted to try greyscaling but I'm not sure it looks good. idk. + while i was making it i was listening to i love you by fontaines d.c. (GREAT SONG FROM A GREAT UNDERRATED BAND) and. the grey fit into that mood much better

also two versions without the sketch lines. where ezra looks happier even if they're uglier

[kitamars]

enmi gintoki…………… orz