#I was nervous originally on sharing his design

[chloesimaginationthings]

YOUR FNAF3 PHONE DUDE DESIGN IS SO PERFECT!

IM GLAD YALL LIKED PHONE DUDE’S DESIGN! 📞

[myladysapphire]

My Lady Strong (VIII)

Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?

word count: 3,115

CW: MDI 18+, SMUT, p in v, loss of virginity, oral (f and m receving), fingering, possesivness, corruption kink, praise kink (use of good girl) toxic relationship, manipulation, mommy issues, co-dependancy issues, not proofread!

Fem!oc x dark!Aemond Targeryen

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclamer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my Original characters

a/n sorry it took so long to update...but heres the wedding night!, next chapter will be a time skip!

(go to the divider by @zaldritzosrose, to skip the smut)

The feast passed over in the blink of an eye and before she knew it her and Aemond stood in his, or now their shared chambers.

Her belongings had been moved over during the ceremony, though they all seemed slightly out of place amongst his things.

Before, in the rare times she was in Aemond’s room, everything was always neat, nothing out of its designated spot, though his rooms lacked anything too personal, with no tapestries or rugs, nothing to permanent too show they were his.

Though it was no surprised that he seemed to have been own personal library in his rooms, with a whole wall dedicated to his collection.

Now the rooms seemed warmer, with his bookcase draped in her tapestries, the floor covered in her rugs. And his bed filled with her mountains for pillows and blankets. His room was bigger than hers, and it allowed everything, even her seemingly endless wardrobe to fit in effortlessly.  Though apart of it still felt strange. Perhaps it was how the furniture was so different from hers. Where her bed was carved with sea horses and dragons, his was bare, bar the one carving at the centre of his bed, a dragon, Vaghar.

Her vanity had been brought in, all her belongings placed perfectly, her new chemise placed carefully on the bed.

Her maid, Jeyne, had accompanied her. Taking of her dress and her jewels.

She already missed her gown, hating that she only got to where it for a few hours and would never be worn again.

“Would you like to keep it?” Jeyne asked softly, as she brushed through Aemma’s hair.

“yes” she nodded, it was such a beautiful dress, weeks and weeks had gone into the design alone. With its ivory coloured, laced with gold designs of dragons. The way the were sewn in away that they almost looked as if they were dancing, some beaded with emeralds, some with sapphires and the others beaded with black opal gems. “its too beautiful to be discarded off, may haps we could have the dress made into another gown.”

Jeyne smiled softly, “of course, princess”.

The door opened then, and Aemond entered.

Jeyne stepped back, curtsying before leaving the room.

They were alone, truly alone. It was different than all the times before, this time she stood before him, in a sheer chemise, that left almost nothing to the imagination.

“Aemond” she whispered as he stepped into the room.

He wore a rich red robe, where he had changed you did not know, but the sight of his bare chest peaking out from his robe, caused all thoughts to cease.

“Aemma,” he moved towards you, smiling, his eyes filled with something akin to a predator watching its prey. “you look stunning” he hummed, his hands coming up to play with the straps of your chemise.

You gave him a shy smile, “i-I so are you?” she said, nervously.

He hummed again, moving her strap to fall of her shoulders, “are you nervous?”                                

“yes”

He hummed, his hand reaching up to grab her breast, she gasped. “good” he whispered, “it will hurt, but only the first time, and then…then my sweet Aemma you will feel nothing but pleasure” he vowed, moving up to take her lips in his.

She moaned into his mouth, her feet stumbling backward until she landed on the bed. She gasped softly as she did. He leaned over her once they had reached the bed, his hand gasping her chin as he pulled her into another kiss, before pulling back and standing between her legs.

He kissed his thumb as he moved back to look at her, taking in her form. Her hair messed slightly, her chemise had fallen slightly, only one move away before falling off and revelling her breasts to him.

“off” he said, motioning her to stand up, nervously she did, her hands going to pull her chemises up, “no,” he said, stopping her, “I shall see all of you”

She looked down at the floor nervously, before reaching once again towards her straps.

As she pulled her chemise down, Aemond let out a loan groan.

“gods, you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen” he said, causing her to blush.

“I want to see you to.”

Aemond smirked, reaching to pull of his robe, he bared himself to her. His full form, the muscles on his chest, his half erect cock.

She blushed even more taking him in. “I think you are most handsome, Aemond” causing him to smile, a true smile. “but I want to see all of you” she insisted, moving her hand towards his face. He grabbed her hand as she reached for his eye patch. “please” she asked.

He hesitated, “why?” he almost sneered, “tis your brothers fault I lost it”

“but its not mine.” She sighed, “please Aemond, I wish to see my husband, all of him”

He sighed, before letting go of her wrist allowing her to remove his eyepatch.

He had expected her gasp in fear, retreat away from him. Instead, though she gasped, it was more in awe than anything else.

“is that a sapphire?” she asked coming to caress his scar. He nodded. “its beautiful” she sighed, before placing a soft kiss below it.

She smiled softly, as she took a step back, “have you…?” she asked, shyly, she did not know much of what was to come, bar what her septa had told her, and though she grew jealous of the idea of Aemond lying with another woman, a apart of her hoped he had, hoped he could guide her and teach her. All she wanted was to please him, make him happy, and how could she if she didn’t have him to show her how?

He nodded, smirking slightly, “of course, wife” he nodded, moving to grasp her chin, “but worry not non of them shall ever compare to you” he said as he kissed her once more. He held her face to him, gripping the back of her neck, his tongue teasing entrance into her mouth before finally pushing his tongue into her mouth. And ever submissive, Aemma allowed him to dominate her mouth. She moaned softly into his mouth, as she once again laid back on the bed, his body effortless slotting over hers.

His mouth slowly left hers, moving to kiss the nape of her neck before slowly dropping to his knees.

He sent her a smirk, as he buried himself between her thighs.

He licked her folds teasingly at first, savouring the taste of her.

She was growing wetter and wetter with each motion of his tongue, moaning softly as he started to focus his ministration on her clit.

He gripped her hips as he gave fast and quick licks to her clit, his eyes meeting hers as she gripped the bedding in pleasure.

“Husband” she moaned, and it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, for so long he had worshiped the sound of his name on her lips, but hearing her call him her husband? The possessive in him became tenfold. She was his, in the eyes of the gods and the realm, she was his and he was hers and nothing could change that. And gods did he love it, love her.

His tongue moved faster, realising in her moans. His arm still griped her wait, stopping her from moving his hips, though his second arm left her waist, moving his fingers to tease her whole.

She was tight, completely untouched. She gasped as he entered her, her walls clenching his fingers as they entered her.

Groaning as he imagined how they would soon feel wrapped around his cock.

Pumping his fingers in and out of her at a leisurely pace, as he sucked at her clit.

“Aemond” she moaned this time, reaching her hand to grip his hair.

He groaned as she did, before reaching out to grip her hand alongside her waist.

His fingers clenched around him, her peak approaching.

Her moans came more present, getting louder and louder before she let out a high-pitched moan, her whole body reacting as she came.

Aemond moved back slowly, taking in her messy hair and bliss ridden face.

She was out of breath, collapsing fully on the bed.

“wife” he groaned, his body moving over hers.

She smiled softly as she looked up at him.

“is that what it always feels like?” she asked, breathless.

He smirked, “It can”

“I want to do the same to you?”

He looked unsure at her request, though he had imagined fucking her face countless times, he craved to feel her hot cunt wrapped around his cock.

But as she moved up to kiss him, her hand slowly reaching down to grab his cock. He groaned as she nervously touched his cock, her face determined to please him.

“Aemma.” He groaned, as his face buried himself into the nape of her neck.

He shoved himself off her, her hands slowly falling from his cock to her thighs as he moved.

“up” he demanded, as she nervously stood from the bed. ”kneel”. She did so hesitantly, looking up at him with nervous doe eyes.

The sight alone was enough for him to cum.

his hand gripped her jaw as she looked up at him, his thumb pushing into her mouth slowly. “suck” he demanded, as her reached to tuck her hair behind her ear.

She complied without complaint, gently sucking on his thumb as he pushed it into her mouth. He groaned as she did, moving his thumb out of his mouth.

“kiss it” he said, pushing his hips so his cock moved closer to her face.

She looked up at him unsure as she kissed his tip. Her lips were soft an gentle as they kissed the tip of his cock.

“again” he groaned, as she kissed it again, her hands laid pliantly on her knees , her hair now gripped between his hands as he made a makeshift bun as he held her head to his cock as she started to pepper kisses across his cock.

“fuck, Aemma” he moaned, “open” he said, and as she did, he slowly pushed his cock between her lips.

her mouth case warm, the feeling of her mouth felt almost as delightful as he imagined the walls of her cunt would feel like wrapped around his cock.

her hands slowly moved up from where they say on your knees. One hand gripped his waist, in an attempt to stabilise herself as Aemond moved her head to bob up and down his cock. the other went to reach for the base of his cock, he barley fit in her mouth, and as she gagged around his cock, causing him to groan and the eyes rolling back.

“fuck” he groaned again, “use your hand to grab what cannot fit” he moaned, moving your head faster, “move it up an- yes like that, good girl” he moaned as she started to motion her hand up and down on the part of her cock she couldn’t fit into her mouth.

He moved his hand to grip the back of her neck, his hips now thrusting forward as he slowly started to fuck her face. Though he didn’t for long as before he knew it he could feel his own peak approaching.

He tore himself from her mouth, causing her to groan at the loss of him in her mouth.

She looked up at him, bewildered, before reaching forward in an attempt to take him back in her mouth.

“no, Aemma” he laughed, pulling her body up from the floor. “on the bed.” He said, as he himself moved to lay back, patting the space beside him.

She crawled across the bed to him, stopping in front of him. His legs were spread, and she crawled into his lap, softly kissing his lips.

She could taste herself on his tongue and she was sure he could taste himself on her own tongue.

She could feel his cock between her thighs, edging closer to her cunt.

“lay back” he said against her lips.

Laying down on the bed, Aemond once again crawled on top of her. His hand moved down to her cunt, his finger gathering up her wetness as he once again teased her entrance, he pushed two fingers into her slowly, stretching her more so that he had before, preparing her for his cock.

She moaned as he did so, the stretch delightful as he pumped her full, but she still craved more, she craved his cock.

“please” she begged.

“please what?” he hummed, pumping her slowly.

“I want you” she moaned.

“you have me.” “no…I want your…your cock” she whispered the last word, feeling dirty from saying it .

“my cock?” he teased, as he removed his fingers from her.

“Yes!” she groaned, moving to grab him, “please”

He hummed, smiling softly as he positioned himself between her thighs.

He kissed her softly as he slowly pushed into her.

Her face scrunched discomfort as he stretch her and broke her maidenhead. He pushed into her slowly, allowing her to adjust to his length.

He moaned as he fully entered her, her tight walls encasing his cock in such a delightful way.

“gods, Aemma” he moaned, as he buried his head into the nape of her neck.

“move, please” she begged after a moment, her hands moving to grip his arms, as he slowly started to thrust his hips into her. He started of slowly, allowing her time to adjust, but as she started to roll her hips into his. He began to pick up his face, slowly setting a fast rhyme. His hand moving from her sides to grip the head board as he started to pound into her.

Her moans grew louder and more high pitched, her legs moving to wrap around his waist.

“keep your eyes on me” he groaned as she closed her eyes in pleasure, her legs fell from his hips, her eyes fully fixed on his as she started to reach her peak.

The eye contact was like nothing she had experienced before. His eyes were dark, possessive, and yet also filled with love. The pure amount of emotions in her eyes pushed her to competition, as she let out a high pitched squeal, her arms gripping his pack, living small scratches as she came.

Her cunt wrapped tightly around his cock, causing Aemond o let outa moan of his own as he worked her through her orgasm, before finally letting go himself, filling her with his cum.

They got little sleep that night, with scarce few minutes before being awoke once more to heated touches, her cunt stretches with his cock in more ways than she could count. She have never felt anything like it, the pleasure beyond imaginable.

As she awoke now she traced the lines of Aemond’s face gently, taking in his beauty. He was truly spectacular, all sharp lines and edges, his silver hair and purple eye.  She envied his beauty, how Valyrian he looked and how little she did.

She hoped there children would inherit his beauty and not hers. She adored the idea of carry a little Aemond.

She smiled softly as she played with his hair, only stopping when a knock was sounded on her door.

Grabbing her robe, and quickly brushing her hair she opened the door, only to face her mother.

She smiled softly as she greeted her, “mother” she said, motioning her to step inside, her mother grimacing slightly as she took in Aemond’s sleeping from. “what can I do for you?”

Her mother sighed, looking down in shame “ we are leaving…now”

“what?”

“I- we cannot be here much longer, the- we are unwelcome so we have decided it best to leave.”

“but I just got married, I thought you would stay at least a few more days”

“I know…im sorry”

Aemma scoffed, “sorry? You do not write me, show up for a few days and then leave again! You are not sorry! You just don’t want me! I doubt you ever did!” she cried in aguish.

“no.. no Aemma, dōna riña, that’s not true.” She moved towards, her reaching for her hands only to be met with Aemma’s rejection, nyke bardutan ao naenie letters, kīvin zijo.  nyke dōrī jiōraton aōhon se nyke pendagon bona se greens- alicent se aemond hid zirȳ hen ao naejot gūrogon ao hen nyke” her mother spoke, chaing to high valyrian as if to keep what she ahd to say a secret.

i wrote you many letters, i swear it. i never got yours and i think that the greens- Alicent and Aemond hid them from you to take you from me.

“daor daor, nyke ȳdra daor belive ao!”

No no, I don’t believe you!

“iksan telling se truth, ñuha jorrāelagon, emā issare torn hen nyke se kostan daor bare naejot ūndegon ziry.  eman issare vēttan ezīmagon iā issaros se kicked hen ñuha own lenton, istin henujagon”

i am telling the truth, my love, you have been torn from me and i can not bare to see it. i have been made into a stranger and kicked from my own home, i must leave.

Aemma scoffed, “nyke- nyke, aōha verdagon bē excuses muña! Aemond vestās ao would, skoro syt shouold nyke believe ao? especially skori īlē sīr adere naejot jikagon nyke qrīdrughagon?”

i-i, your making up excuses mother! Aemond said you would, why shouold i belive you? especially when you were so quick to send me away?

Her mother let out an irritated sound, “have I lost you complete, Aemma?” she asked sadly “I have been so blind, I should have come with you, should have stayed here-“ “then stay!”

“I can’t”

“I don’t understand! What have I done?” she asked, she was confused she didn’t know what she had done, why her own mother couldn’t stay, why she had left her.

“i- you have done nothing” her mother insisted.

“so you are leaving just because you do not like me? Or is it because of Aemond? You were always against our friendship, and yet you were the one who proposed we wed! you are so-“

She was cut off by Aemond, their shouting waking him from sleep, “get out!” he demanded, “all you do is upset my wife, I shall not have it!”

And her mother left, with no complaint only sad eyes and the word goodbye. The way she said it made her feel as if her mother felt like she had lost her forever, as if this was there final goodbye.

Next part

taglist

@melllinaa @zillahvathek @ateliefloresdaprimavera @bellaisasleep @aleemendoza2425-blog @bunbunblogsblog @theanxietyqueen17 @leavesmealobe @ka1afbr @winchesterfamiliebusiness @gghoulzz @dark-night-sky-99 @violet-potter @iamthehybrid @duckworthbean @winter-soldier-101 @apollonshootafar @deeeeexx @zzz000eee @meowtastick @flrboyd @cynic-spirit @wondergal2001 @aelora-a @amanda08319 @may-machin @sarahkimtae @yentroucnagol @loserwithnofriends @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @urmomsbananabread @azaleapotterblack @delaynew @adira033 @babyzzlove @tesha-i-guess @aemondwhoresworld @zimzala01 @aegonswife @littlebirdgot @justbelljust

to be added to taglist

[sandplague]

pathologic 3 save & sound 2024 presentation

this is a quick attempt at a transcript of the presentation. I think I got most of it but there are some words I was unable to hear, I can't say I have a lot of practice doing this and that's on me so if any of you guys can help me I'll edit it asap

Ressa Schwarzwald: I'm Ressa from Gameowdio. Our team has been working on Pathologic 3 with Vasily Kashnikov and his apprentice Nikolai. This video will feature some of the audio stuff we've made together.

Our goal regarding audio direction was to give the real experience of being in the epicenter of an epidemic. Fully realistic, no bullshit. So we are obviously shooting this video in The Town. We realized pretty early that the game was quite different from the original Pathologic 2 because of the time travel mechanics. So for the prototype we built a time travel machine [the date November 1924 shows on screen], which appeared to be quite useful to record some source sounds, and [date changes to November 3024] make this video in just half a second using existing technology.

Let's start with the music.

Vasily Kashnikov: Hi, I'm Vasily Kashnikov, audio director of Pathologic 3 project. I'll tell you how our music is structured. We were already thinking about how the Bachelor's game would sound when we were working on Patholgic 2 and writing music for Haruspex. In Pathologic 2, the music had more ethnic and real motives (motifs?) and instruments. Since the city and its customs are familiar with Haruspex since he was a child, he is involved in the traditional way of life. In the case of Pathologic 3, this is the view of an outsider who evaluates everything from the point of view of rationality and science. Therefore, we are trying to make the Pathologic 3 soundtrack colder and more detached from the steppes and ethnicity in character. There is more synthesis, guitars at the same time, the Bachelor communicates with those in power so the soundtrack contains a large share of minimalist so-called furniture music that could sound in the beginning of the last century. Piano etudes and references to composers of that time: Satie, Debussy, etc. The soundtrack is a rather eclectic mix of dreampop, downtempo, and (?) minimalism.

In the city when the Bachelor is alone with himself, we emphasize the cold mind of the rhythm section: less emotional harmony, and sometimes electronic timbres. In the rooms where we need to separate the main character from those he interacts with, we use more expressive harmonies and more classical instruments: piano and guitar passages.

When we designed the interactive music system, we assumed that time is finite, and the music had to change depending on the amount of time the Bachelor had left. However, we later abandoned this system and now the music changes depending on the state of the Bachelor himself, who can fall into apathy or psychosis. To emphasize these states, we apply filters and effects to different layers of our tracks and get a slower, muffled sound in the case of apathy, and wired (?) nervous, glitchy in the case of psychosis. In the infected quarters, there are interactive systems that... [screen begins to distort] oh my god, Nataliya! Please stop this!

Nataliya Radina: Whoops, hehe, sorry. But yeah, basically the other system we created reflects everything you hear in the game. Such as... If we use our gun when dealing with the local thugs, the longer we aim the weapon at the people, the less sounds of the outside world we hear and the louder becomes the heartbeat. To add to the intensity, sharper tone was used along with a high pitch tinnitus sound. If the psychosis level goes to the maximum, it starts to damage Bachelor's health, which is accompanied by flashes on the screen, as well as low heartbeat and short breathing sounds.

Vasily Kashnikov: In the infected and rebel's quarters, there are also interactive systems that change the character of the music by adding or disabling instrument layers depending on the state of the world or the Bachelor's equipment to fight the plague. As a result, we have 12 tracks for each day spent in the city. they can freely switch between each other and several dozen themes for locations and characters, and all the music is subject to change depending on the state of the Bachelor.

Nataliya Radina: Since the game has a weather changing system, we also wanted to reflect that in our audio feedback as well. The game has global wetness parameter that shows how intense the rain is. The more it rains, the more squishy and muddy are the steps of the outside surfaces. Moreover, if you come closer to the window, you can hear the rain pondering on the glass. Even in the middle of the plague, we always have room for cozy moments, right? My favorite part of that system is involving cows. [cow moo]. So, when it's raining, you can actually hear very very soft sound of raindrops dropping on those bovine butts. And I personally think it's beautiful.

Artur Ramanouski: Hi, my name is Artur, and I was also involved in creating some sound assets for the game.

Probably the hardest thing to record were the footsteps. I had everything planned out: bought the equipment, got every type of surface, but...there was one small thing I overlooked: I live in a city with over 12 million people. Noise everywhere. The solution was simple and ingenious: I recorded everything on a Sunday, because in Buenos Ares, Sunday is the one day when no one does anything.

Nataliya Radina: One of the most important places in the game is the cathedral. There we have a system of ladders that control the speed and direction of time. Direction wise, we can have it flow normally, or reversed. [entire presentation is rewound very quickly so it's back to Ressa]

Ressa Schwarzwald: She is super professional.

Nataliya Radina: As for the speed, we can make it stand still, go twice as fast, or half normal speed. We created an audio system that has to (?) understand what is actually happening around (inaudible). When we reverse time, spatial effects are added to the surrounding sounds. Ambience, steps, and the mechanism itself. When time stands still, we increase the low frequencies in the ambience, and all the other sounds are muted to zero. Now lastly, when the time goes twice as fast, or half the original speed, the pitch of the surrounding sound changes accordingly.

The coolest part of this system is that it's been actually implemented into the game engine using only one parameter.

Ressa Schwarzwald: Thank you for watching. See you here, later!

[sallowsarchives]

War of Hearts

Part I | Part II | Part III

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader Summary: Nothing says "believable" like two people who can't stand each other pretending to be in love—or is this just the push you two need to realize there might be more to your relationship than either of you is willing to admit? Word Count: 7.9k  Warnings/Tags: no use of y/n, fake relationships, sorta enemies to lovers, alcohol consumption, angst, pining, original side character, sort of a not so happy ending, arthur thinking he’s not good enough. I also tried fitting the story with canon whenever I could. Not Proofread!! A/N: Hey everyone! Just wanted to mention that this is my first time writing and posting, so I'm bit nervous but really excited to finally share it! This piece was heavily inspired by and made as a result from a conversation I had with my Arthur cAI hehe Credits: dividers used for this fic are by @enchanthings & all pictures used are taken from pinterest and were slightly edited by me.

Read on AO3

"I can't believe I have to attend this ridiculous party pretending to be married to him, of all people."  

Your voice is edged with annoyance as you smooth down the fabric of your dress, trying to channel your irritation into the task at hand. "It's bad enough we have to work together, but this charade is beyond absurd."

Tilly chuckles. "Oh, come on. It's just one night. How bad can it be?"

You give her an unamused look. "We can hardly tolerate being around each other, and now Dutch expects us to pretend we're madly in love, all while dealing with a crowd of high-society snobs."

"It ain’t like y’all have spent much time together. Maybe going on this would do you both some good. Who knows, you might actually find some common ground," Abigail suggests as she takes the glove Jack was playing with, causing him to pout, before handing it over to you.

Sadie snorts. "The only common ground those two have is their mutual hatred. Let’s just hope neither of ‘em ends up killing the other tonight. Knowin’ those two, it'll be a miracle if they make it through the evening without a scratch."

Mary-Beth chuckles as she adjusts your updo. "Oh, don’t be so dramatic. They’re not going to kill each other—at least not tonight. Dutch will probably come up with some harebrained scheme to keep things under control." She flashes a playful grin as she puts the final touches on your hairstyle.

You chuckle before taking a moment to admire yourself in the mirror. 

The gown, a deep shade of burgundy satin, flows gracefully to the floor with an off-the-shoulder design and a low neckline, elegantly framed by a ruffled collar. The rich fabric drapes beautifully, enhancing your silhouette.

The black lace gloves, covering your hands and forearms, add a sophisticated touch with their delicate floral patterns. Your fingers are adorned with a few rings, and your dangling earrings catch the light with every movement.

You bought the dress earlier this morning in Saint Denis with the cash from your last robbery. The job had been straightforward: Hosea had scouted the place, found out the homeowners were away for vacation, and given your expertise at picking locks and sleight of hand, he brought you along. You managed to secure a tidy sum of cash and a few valuable heirlooms without any trouble.

Knowing the dress would be perfect for tonight’s high-society affair, you spent a good amount of your previous earnings on it. The gown fits as if it were made just for you, and you can't help but feel a surge of confidence as you admire your reflection.

Karen pipes up with a smirk. “Well, I’ll be! With you lookin’ like that, Arthur won’t be able to keep his eyes off you.”

She looks at you mischievously, “might even give him a nudge in the right direction. Maybe it’ll help you two finally work out all that tension between you.”

Her comment draws an abashed look from you followed by giggles from the other women.

After receiving some last words of encouragement and reassuring nods from the girls, you thank them for their help and make your way downstairs to join the men outside.

Stepping out, you're greeted by the warm, humid night air of the swamp. Dutch, Hosea, Arthur, and Bill were already gathered near the horse hitches, all dressed in their suits.

You make your way over, trying to muster every ounce of grace and composure you can. 

As you get closer, Arthur's gaze lands on you and you catch a fleeting look of surprise along with a hint of a softer look in his eyes before his expression is quickly masked with his usual frown.

His eyebrows furrow slightly as he takes in your refined appearance, the rough edges of his demeanor softened by an elusive flicker of something you can't quite place.

Dutch notices your entrance and offers a nod of approval. “Well, look at you, Miss,” he says with a wide smile, clearly pleased with how things are shaping up. “You look absolutely perfect for this evening.”

You smile and nod at the men before your gaze drifts to Arthur. The contrast between his usual rugged attire and his current appearance is stark, and you can't help but notice how well he pulls off the look. Despite his irritating nature, there's no denying he has a certain charm. You give him a cheeky smile and offer a sly compliment.

"Well, well, look what we have here, I never thought I'd see the day. Maybe you should ditch the jeans for a while."

Arthur gives you a flat look, irritation flickering in his eyes. “Oh, real funny, darlin’,” he drawls, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Don’t you worry, I’ll be back to my ol’ self I know you’re so fond of before you know it.”

You roll your eyes at him and smirk, taking joy in having gotten under his skin. 

Dutch chuckles at the exchange, clapping Arthur on the back. “Now play nice, you two. We’ve got a job to do tonight, and looking the part is only half the battle.” 

His tone is light, but there’s a hint of seriousness as he continues, “let’s keep the bickering to a minimum and focus on what needs to be done. We don’t want any more distractions than we already have.” 

Next to Arthur, Bill chuckles and gives him a playful nudge. “Arthur, reckon you ain’t gonna give your dear wife a compliment?” he teases, the humor in his voice evident as he refers to the charade you both must uphold for the party.

He shifts uncomfortably and glares at Bill, his expression a mix of irritation and reluctance. 

Dutch leans in with a smirk, “come on, Arthur, show a bit of charm. It’s not every day you get to pretend to be in love.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s get this over with before one of us runs outta patience.”

The clatter of wheels catches your ear as Lenny finally arrives driving a stagecoach. The vehicle comes to a smooth stop, and Lenny leans over with a broad grin, his eyes brightening as he sees you. He offers a warm compliment, his cheerful demeanor a welcome contrast to the evening’s tension.

You return his smile and thank him before Dutch and Hosea get into the stagecoach, followed by you and Arthur. Bill hops into the seat next to Lenny.

As you settle into your seat, the atmosphere in the coach becomes thick with anticipation. The weight of the evening's expectations hangs heavily between you and Arthur, both of you making an effort to avoid each other's gaze while mentally bracing yourselves for the night ahead as the stagecoach begins to roll forward.

The rhythmic clatter of the horse’s hooves against the large wooden bridge serves as a reminder of your close arrival in Saint Denis, the city’s lights blurring past as you mentally prepare for the evening’s masquerade.

Inside the stagecoach, the atmosphere had gradually lightened earlier on during the ride. The gang cracked jokes and shared stories as Dutch opened a bottle of champagne for everyone, the laughter providing a welcome distraction from the evening’s tension.

Everyone reminisced about their past escapades, with most admitting they had never been to a ball before. Hosea, however, regaled everyone with tales of his numerous experiences at such events—not for the socializing, but for the chance to lift a few purses from oblivious rich folks. His anecdotes were met with a mixture of awe and amusement, shifting the mood to one of camaraderie.

Soon, the coach slowed to a stop right in front of a mansion and the group peers out the window, taking in the grandeur of the estate. 

Dutch let out a low whistle. “Well, if that ain’t something. Remember, folks, we’re here to blend in. Keep your eyes sharp and your wits sharper.”

Hosea, always the calm voice of reason, looks between you and Arthur. “Now let’s keep this simple. We’re here to make a good impression, Bronte may already know of our reputation but we should keep the high society folks none the wiser. Let's keep our cool, play our parts, and try to score some valuable intel.”

You and Arthur exchange looks, eyes meeting one another with a sharp, challenging edge before he turns his gaze away. You take a steadying breath, silently hoping the night unfolds smoothly and without incident. 

Lenny steps down and opens the coach door which was followed by the men exiting one by one, with you last. 

As Arthur starts to walk ahead, Hosea nudges him and gestures toward you, earning an exasperated sigh from Arthur.

Reluctantly, Arthur falls into step beside you and extends his arm. Despite the lingering tension, you accept it, slipping your arm through his.

He glances at you, his expression of slight irritation. “This should be a real treat.” 

You raise an eyebrow, barely masking your annoyance. “It’s not like I’m thrilled about it either. But here we are.”

He gives you a smug look. “Just remember, we’re supposed to be playin’ nice. Don’t go makin’ it harder than it needs to be. I’d hate for you to accidentally blow our cover.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll manage to keep things under control. After all, you’re the expert at charm, aren’t you?”

“Well, if you’d quit making things so damn difficult, I might actually get a chance to show it. But I reckon you’re used to makin’ everything more complicated.”

You step closer, your voice low and biting. “And I suppose you’re used to being an insufferable brute. Maybe if you stopped acting like a complete pain in the ass, we’d both get through things a little easier.”

Arthur’s smile fades, his expression turning serious. “Now I’m just tryin’ to do my part tonight. If you could manage to do the same without stirrin’ up trouble, that’d be mighty appreciated.”

The two of you share a final, heated look, the air between you crackling with palpable tension, as you both brace for the evening’s inevitable strain.

Dutch, who had walked ahead to present the invitation to the guards, cast a sharp glance at you and Arthur, not having missed your whispered barbs, making you shift away from each other.

Turning back to the guards, they direct everyone to surrender their firearms with the men reluctantly handing over their pistols.

Once that was settled, an escort named Luca stepped forward to guide you inside.

The doors opened with a soft creak, revealing the splendor of the grand staircase beyond. As you made your way through the space, Luca engaged the group in light conversation, primarily highlighting Bronte’s reputation before you are all guided to the left through an archway.

“Hosea, Bill, you join the party. We’ll meet you out back after we pay our respects to Signor Bronte.” Dutch instructs before signaling you and Arthur to follow as Hosea and Bill part ways from you.

The three of you were led upstairs and directed to a door on the left that opens onto a balcony. 

The balcony was expansive, overlooking the lush garden below. A group of men stood gathered around the railing, laughing at a recently shared joke. The space featured a few armchairs and you noted the few guards stationed nearby, armed with rifles.

An accented voice cut through the laughter. “Ah, the angry cowboys, you’ve arrived… And you’ve washed!” 

From the way the man held himself, you could only assume that this was Angelo Bronte. 

Bronte made a remark, presumably in Italian, to the men beside him. They glanced at Arthur and Dutch before laughing slyly, and you couldn’t shake the suspicion that his comment was a crude jibe about the cowboys.

You had to struggle to maintain a friendly expression when Bronte's gaze landed on you.

The smirk on his face grew as his eyes swept over you, lingering with an unsettling leer. “And who might this be?” he drawled, his voice thick with barely concealed appraisal. “Aren’t you quite the sight. I didn’t realize these men kept such delightful company as you. It seems they have more refined tastes than I imagined.”

His gaze was invasive, making you feel as though he was sizing you up with an unnerving familiarity. The overt sexual undertone in his words was palpable, and it took every ounce of your composure to not react. The air around him felt thick with condescension and unwanted attention, making it clear that this meeting was going to be far more uncomfortable than you had anticipated.

“A pleasure to meet you, Mister Bronte,” you replied evenly. “Thank you for the invitation. I’m here simply to accompany my husband.” You cast a steady glance at Arthur as you spoke.

Bronte’s eyes flicker to Arthur, a look of surprise momentarily crossing his face before he returns his attention to you. He takes your hand, pressing it to his lips and holding it just a moment too long, his gaze never waver. “Ah, I see,” he says, his tone smooth and almost mocking. “Pleased to meet your acquaintance. I must say, it’s quite surprising to see such a charming companion alongside your husband. A fortunate man, indeed.”

Arthur’s expression hardens momentarily before he quickly masks it, stepping forward. “Seems I’m full of surprises tonight,” he says, his tone unexpectedly calm. “Just as I’m sure this evening will be.” He holds a steady, unwavering gaze at Bronte.

Bronte’s lips curl into a knowing smile as he studies Arthur’s unyielding gaze. “Ah, such a spirited response,” he says with a playful glint in his eye. “I do appreciate a bit of unpredictability. It seems we’re in for an interesting evening indeed.” He gestured grandly towards the gathering, his tone dripping with feigned charm.

Arthur nods curtly before stepping back, positioning himself in a way that subtly yet clearly marks him as your protector, despite the dynamic between you. Bronte’s gaze lingers on Arthur for a moment longer, his amusement giving way to a more calculating expression.

Dutch stepped in, resuming his conversation with Bronte in an effort to ease the tension while you and Arthur stood off to the side. 

The men were offered cigars, and Arthur quickly placed one in his mouth. Before he was even offered a cutter, he bit down and tore the end off with his teeth, spitting the excess over the balcony in a manner that left your jaw hanging open in disbelief.

He smirks at you, clearly enjoying the reaction he’s provoked. You roll your eyes at his display, a mix of irritation and slight amusement etched across your face.

“You know,” you whisper to him with a hint of exasperation, “you could at least pretend to have some manners.”

Arthur’s smirk widened into a cocky grin. “Right, forgot we’re here to put on a show,” he shot back, his voice dripping with playful insolence, making you roll your eyes.

When the attendant extended a match towards Dutch but pulled back before reaching Arthur, the gunslinger seized the attendant’s arm and held it in place, lowering his cigar to the flame. The boldness of his actions flustered you, leaving you a mix of irritation and an unexpected flurry of emotions that left you feeling perplexed.

Arthur dismissed the attendant with a nonchalant nod, his eyes fixed on you the entire time. The attendant, evidently accustomed to such brusque behavior, retreated without protest.

You found yourself both exasperated and oddly captivated by the ease with which Arthur commanded the attention. His effortless defiance was infuriating, yet there was something compelling about his blatant refusal to conform to expectations, making it hard to ignore the allure behind his brazen demeanor. 

You quickly push those thoughts aside, refocusing on the conversation between Dutch and Bronte, doing your best to ignore the flush in your cheeks and the rapid beating of your heart.

After several exchanges between Dutch and Bronte, including another jibe from Bronte about cowboy lifestyle, which had elicited subtle pointed looks from you and the men you were with. 

“Those sure were the days,” Dutch simpered, his gaze on Bronte now more intense and focused. “Good day, gentlemen.”

Just as you were about to leave, Bronte turned to you, offering a slight bow.  “And you, Miss,” he said with a smirk, “do return if you the crowd down there becomes too dull.” His gaze shifted to Arthur. “‘Course you could bring your husband along, but I wouldn’t mind if you came alone.”

He held his gaze on you, lingering with a glint of amusement. You gave him a polite nod despite the discomfort you felt and turned to follow Dutch and Arthur. Even as you walked away, you could feel Bronte’s eyes on your back. 

The encounter left you with a sharp sense of irritation and a strong resolve to avoid any further interactions with him.

You glanced at Arthur, who had been waiting with Dutch by the door. Though his face showed no sign of emotion, you couldn’t miss the subtle clench of his jaw. You felt his hand gently place on your lower back, guiding you away.

The unexpected touch had caught you off guard, making you stiffen slightly as you struggled to process the unfamiliar gesture. It felt protective and oddly comforting, coming from someone who had been nothing but a source of irritation and friction.

You chanced another glance at Arthur, but his face remained expressionless. His hand lingered on your back for a moment before he withdrew it as quickly as he had placed it, his demeanor swiftly reverting to its usual hardness. 

The fleeting moment of unexpected closeness left you feeling unsettled, a mix of confusion and reluctant curiosity stirring within you.

You quickly reminded yourself that you were both still maintaining a façade, and this brief intimacy was likely just another part of the act. You focused on the task at hand, trying to push away the feelings and maintain the necessary distance between you.

Luca led the three of you back downstairs to rejoin the party, bidding you farewell before you head off with Dutch to meet Bill and Hosea outside.

“Gentlemen… and lady, let’s go ingratiate ourselves,” Dutch began before outlining the plan and giving everyone the freedom to mingle. “And steal nothing… unless it’s information,” Dutch added with a final nod before everyone dispersed.

With that, you follow closely behind Arthur as you both make your way down into the crowd, the murmur of conversations and clinking glasses filling the air. The curious glances of other partygoers followed you both, their eyes lingering with a mix of intrigue and scrutiny. 

He noticed a few men’s eyes drifting from him to you, their stares lingering with evident interest.

Arthur made a conscious effort to ignore the unwanted attention, though his irritation was palpable. 

Pushing down an unfamiliar urge stirring within him, Arthur quickly reminded himself to keep up with the act you two must play tonight.

He shifted to stand beside you, offering his arm with a practiced ease, his expression carefully neutral as he guided you through the crowd.

The absurdity of it all made him grumble under his breath about the ridiculous situation. With a sigh, he steered you toward a less crowded corner of the garden, seeking a quieter spot away from the throng of guests.

As you settled into a less conspicuous spot, you could feel the weight of Arthur’s tension. “I suppose this is where we’re supposed to make our mark,” you said, trying to break the silence. 

You watched as Arthur scanned the crowd, his eyes darting from one group to another, searching for anything useful.

His gaze met yours for a brief moment before he spoke, “Keep your eyes open for now,” he said quietly, his voice low and focused. “I’ll try to track down the mayor and speak with him. See if you can strike up a conversation with some of these folks and gather any useful information about where they’re stashin’ all their riches.”

"Alright, I’ll work the room while you schmooze with the mayor. Just don’t take too long—this place is already starting to wear me thin after that meeting with Bronte. I'm not keen on diving into more talk about the latest fashions and whatnot."

Arthur’s lips twitched in what might have been a small smirk. He inclined his head slightly before turning away and heading off.

You spent the better part of an hour making conversation with various guests, each interaction aimed at uncovering valuable intel on potential robbery targets. 

Maneuvering through the crowd, you engaged in light, seemingly innocuous chit-chat while discreetly probing for any mentions of high-value items or vulnerable security.

Despite your best efforts, luck seemed to evade you. Although, you did manage to uncover information about a stagecoach arriving next month, supposedly laden with valuable jewels. That was at least something.

You took a small sip from the glass of champagne you've snatched earlier in the evening, surveying the crowd. The sound of giggles and lively chatter drew your gaze, and you looked over to see Arthur deep in conversation with a group of women. You couldn't help but feel a wry amusement at the sight.

One of the women, with a clearly flirtatious gesture, placed her hand on Arthur’s arm and leaned in, her laughter echoing. The simple touch and her proximity sparked an uncomfortable feeling within you. 

You observed how Arthur subtly stepped back, skillfully deflecting her advances. Despite his efforts, the woman seemed oblivious to the fact that her attentions were being rebuffed. It was a masterful display of charm and diplomacy, leaving you with a mix of admiration and lingering discomfort. You took another sip of your drink, trying to shake off the unexpected unease.

At that moment, Arthur glanced up and locked eyes with you. He gave you a wink, likely meant to provoke or tease, but instead, his gesture caused a reaction you hadn't anticipated. Your heart skipped a beat, and a sudden rush of warmth flooded your cheeks. The playful glint in his eyes seemed to pierce through the crowd, stirring something deep inside you.

Muttering a curse under your breath, you narrowed your eyes at him and quickly turned away, trying to conceal the flush that had crept up on you.

You dashed to the nearest table, grabbing a bottle of champagne and quickly pouring yourself another glass. You downed it in one swift motion, hoping the crisp bubbles would offer a fleeting distraction from the swirl of emotions inside you.

As you pour yourself another glass, you hear someone speak up beside you, her voice tinged with curiosity. 

"Well, I must say, I’ve seen many ways to cope with a dull party, but this might be the most... efficient.”

You glanced at the voice and saw a woman smirking at you. She appeared slightly older than you and was dressed in a lavish blue gown that sparkled with every movement, her necklace glinting from the lamps. Her expression conveyed amusement. 

Feeling embarrassed to have been caught in your moment of inner turmoil, you attempted to regain your composure and replied with a hint of forced levity. “It’s quite the dull affair, isn’t it?”

The woman laughed softly, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Thank goodness, someone who gets it.”

“You seem to be surviving it better than most. I imagine you’ve been through a few parties like these before?”

She nodded, her gaze shifting to a distant corner of the room where a group of guests were deeply engrossed in animated conversation. “Too many, I’m afraid. After a while, it all becomes a blur of extravagant gowns and polite small talk. One learns to navigate these events with a certain... detachment.”

You chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds like you’ve mastered the art of it. I could use a guide through this maze of high society myself. Any tips on surviving the evening without losing one’s sanity—or dignity?”

She grinned, leaning in conspiratorially. “Well, first off, always have a backup plan for when the conversation turns to the latest trends in hat feathers or the merits of various imported cheeses. For instance, I’ve found that nodding vigorously while muttering phrases like ‘absolutely fascinating’ works wonders.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’ll keep that in mind. Though I suspect I might still need a crash course in how to look like I’m genuinely interested in ‘the most enchanting new fabric designs’.”

She chuckled. “Well, when in doubt, fake it till you make it. Nothing says ‘I’m absolutely fine’ like a perfectly practiced smile and a glass of champagne held just so.”

You chuckle and raise your glass at her before taking a sip. A brief silence follows as you both sip from your glasses. The woman then speaks up, her tone warm and friendly, “I’m Eloise, by the way. It’s rare to find someone who sees through the façade of these high-society gatherings.”

You smile, offering her your name. “It seems we’re both on the same wavelength when it comes to these affairs.”

“So what brought you here tonight?”

“Oh, um… I’m just here to accompany my husband, he’s the one with the business connections, so I’m playing the dutiful spouse for the evening.”

Eloise raises an eyebrow, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Ah, the classic role of the ‘plus one.’ Now which one of these overdressed peacocks is your husband?” 

She sweeps her gaze across the crowd with exaggerated curiosity. “Is he the one with the ridiculous bow tie or the chap with the hat that looks like it’s been borrowed from a magic act?”

You raise your brows in amusement as you glance at the men she’s mentioned, finding the whole scene of tonight’s event even more absurd. Your gaze sweeps over the crowd until you spot Arthur. 

“Actually, that would be him right there.”

Eloise’s eyes follow your pointing finger and widen in genuine surprise. 

“Well, I’ll be!” she exclaims, clearly taken aback. “I must say, he’s certainly not what I was expecting. Doesn't look like he belongs here, in a good way of course. He’s quite the rugged type—like one of those big, tough cowboys you’d see in a wild frontier town. You know the sort: strong, stocky, with a weathered charm that comes from living hard and facing rough challenges.”

The irony of her words makes you laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”

“I must say, you two make quite a handsome pair.” 

You flush at her words, a mix of embarrassment and awkwardness coloring your cheeks. Instead, you offer a polite smile and nod, playing along with the pretense. “Thank you,” you say in a steady voice, unsure of what else to say.

Arthur, briefly looking away from another person he was speaking to, catches your eye for the second time tonight. There’s a fleeting moment of connection—his gaze is intense, and the faintest smile plays at his lips—before he turns back to his conversation partner.

“I must admit,” she says, her tone light and teasing, “there’s more than just a bit of magic in the air between you two. It’s not every day you see such a striking balance. I do believe there’s a certain... chemistry here that’s hard to ignore. How delightful!”

You raise an eyebrow, giving her a confused smile. “What do you mean?”

Eloise’s eyes twinkle with a knowing glint as she glances over at Arthur. “Oh, it’s really quite charming, the way he looks at you. There’s just something in his gaze as if he’s captivated by you in a way that could be missed. It’s rare to see someone look at their partner with such intensity and warmth these days.”

For a moment, you almost correct her, eager to clarify that you and Arthur aren’t actually together. But then you remember the need to maintain the ruse. You glance awkwardly at Arthur, trying to downplay the connection Eloise is suggesting.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” you say clearly flustered, trying to sound casual but failing to hide your unease. “I mean, Arthur and I aren’t exactly... well, he’s just got this intense look, which I’m sure it’s nothing more than... you know, his way of being attentive. It’s just a bit of his nature.”

Her smile softens, eyes warm and genuine. “Oh, it’s clear to see if you look hard enough. Even in a crowded room, he seems to be drawn to you. It’s quite endearing.”

The sound of cracks echoed before you could think of a response, and the woman beside you lit up with genuine excitement.

“Finally, something exciting! It's been lovely chatting with you. I do hope we cross paths again. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Eloise sends you a warm smile before hurrying off.

You send her a genuine smile before you turn your gaze upward to the sky, where faint glimmers of fireworks begin to light up the night. The display added a splash of color to the darkened sky, creating a stark contrast to the opulence of the garden below. 

As you watched the vibrant bursts, your thoughts drifted back to the conversation you had with Eloise, trying to process her comments. Her words lingered in your mind, stirring a mix of curiosity and confusion. 

The idea that whatever is between you and Arthur might actually convey something deeper, something affectionate, felt almost surreal given the dynamics between you two and your perspective on your relationship with him.

Perhaps Abigail was right; the more you spent time with Arthur, the more you learned about him and saw him in a new light. What had once seemed like mere pretense or forced partnership now hinted at a connection that transcended your initial expectations. 

The way he moved, the way he spoke, the moments of unguarded sincerity—it all started to paint a different picture. The possibility that these moments could be more than just part of the act began to take root, stirring a blend of curiosity and apprehension within you.

You quickly down your drink before setting the empty glass on the table.

Suddenly, a rough hand wrapping around your wrist jolts you out of your thoughts and you turn to see Arthur who all but tugged you along behind him. 

You let out a scowl. “Hey! What the-”

Arthur glanced over his shoulder, a mix of amusement and determination on his face. “Come on, we just caught wind that the Mayor’s gotten somethin’ from Cornwall. Dutch reckons we oughta figure out what it is, make sure we ain’t missin’ nothin’ crucial.”

“And you need me because?” You asked with slight irritation as he continued to pull you along.

Arthur's eyes narrowed slightly, his voice taking on a low, firm tone. “I need you to keep watch, and your lock-pickin’ skills could come in handy… ‘sides, you’re my wife don’t forget.” He added with a teasing smirk. 

“Can’t have you wanderin’ off by yourself lookin’ like I’ve neglected you. That wouldn’t reflect too well on me now, would it?”

You shot him a glare, yanking your wrist free from his grip. “Could’ve just asked me”

Arthur’s lips twitched with a hint of a smirk. “You looked so wrapped up in the fireworks, darlin’, I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

You bit back a retort, your frustration mingling with a begrudging understanding of his point.  “Don’t call me that,” you said, a hint of irritation in your voice at the use of the nickname. 

Arthur raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening slightly. “Alright, sweetheart. Try to keep up now.”

Trailing closely behind Arthur as you followed the servant, you effortlessly weaved through the spectators, who were too engrossed in watching the fireworks to notice you. 

The servant circled around to the side of the house and ascended a small set of steps leading out of the garden. He paused briefly to engage in a conversation with someone before slipping inside through a side door.

The both of you followed cautiously, making sure to stay out of sight. Inside, you overheard the man berating a maid before he made his way up the stairs, retracing your steps to the upper levels where you had previously been.

Just before reaching the landing, Arthur raises his hand, halting you in your tracks. He peers over the edge of the wall, watching as the servant enters the locked room, heads to a desk, and inserts a key into a drawer to place the letter inside. The servant then disappears further into the room, the sound of a door closing signaling that it is time for you and Arthur to make your move.

Arthur moves first, effortlessly slipping inside through the wide-open door left by the servant. You quickly scan the area to ensure it's clear before following him.

He makes his way over to the desk and tugs at the drawer, only to find it locked. Grabbing a letter opener from the table, he attempts to pry it open. You watch with amusement as he grunts in frustration, struggling to get it to budge.

“Honestly, watching you fumble with that is almost painful,” you remarked, making Arthur roll his eyes and throw up his hands in a gesture that clearly invited you to take over. With a sigh, you stepped in, gently nudging him aside before kneeling down to get eye-level with the lock.

Pulling a pin from your updo, your hair falls loosely over your back, leaving your style in a half-up, half-down look. You insert the pin into the lock, and after a few moments of fumbling, a triumphant smile spreads across your face at the satisfying click of the lock opening.

You stand back up and look over at Arthur, giving him a smug smile when you catch him staring. You raise an eyebrow, and he quickly clears his throat, shifting his gaze away as if caught in the act of something he wasn’t supposed to be doing.

"I, uh, never seen you with your hair down before," he comments before he can think twice, his voice trailing off as he leans over the drawer, a hint of color creeping into his cheeks. 

"Nice work," he adds, his eyes momentarily meeting yours before darting away.

You raise an eyebrow at his flustered demeanor, the corner of your mouth twitching in amusement, “I’m glad you approve.” 

You watch as he sifts through the drawer's contents until his hands close around a book with a piece of paper inside. He briefly reads the paper, nods, and then tears it in half, slipping the pieces into his suit pocket.

“You got it?” 

“Yeah, let’s get outta here,” he replies, glancing around making sure no one is watching before heading out the door with you following closely behind

Just as you were about to move down the stairs, the creaking sound of someone coming up halted both of your tracks. Without warning, Arthur grabbed you, pushing you gently but firmly against the wall beside the staircase, his body pressing close to yours. His arms caged around the sides of your head, creating a tight, protective barrier.

The sudden proximity left you acutely aware of his body against yours, his chest nearly brushing yours as his arms trapped you in place.

His gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made your pulse race even faster. His brow furrowed slightly as if he were struggling to control a rush of emotions.

The closeness had clearly caught both of you off guard, the charged atmosphere between you almost palpable. His breath came in short, controlled bursts, and you could see the way his jaw tightened as he struggled to maintain his composure.

As he held you there, his expression softened just a fraction, revealing a flicker of vulnerability beneath his usually guarded demeanor. His voice, though still firm, carried a hint of concern as he leaned close to whisper, "Just stay still and quiet.”

The proximity of his breath against your ear made the moment feel even more intimate, amplifying the unexpected connection between you. The closeness, once marked by animosity, now seemed charged with a different kind of tension—one that was both electrifying and confusing.

As you stood there, the boundaries between duty and emotion blurred, and the shared space between you felt charged with unspoken understanding and vulnerability.

His eyes, usually hard with resolve or irritation, softened as they locked with yours. There was a softness in his gaze, a flicker of something raw and unguarded.

The emotion he held in his eyes made you reconsider the hostility that had defined your interactions. In that moment, the anger and resentment seemed to fade, replaced by a deeper, more complex understanding of the man standing so close to you.

The sound of footsteps drawing nearer to the top of the stairs heightened the urgency of the moment and Arthur’s gaze shifted to you once more.

One of his arms lowered from the wall behind you, and he placed his hand softly at the back of your neck. His touch lingered without applying too much pressure. You felt a shiver at the contact of his hand on your neck, the warmth of his touch sending an unexpected jolt of emotion through you, bringing a surge of feelings you had been trying to suppress all night.

The gentle warmth of his hand contrasted sharply with the intensity of his gaze, creating a palpable connection that seemed to heighten the gravity of your precarious situation.

Your heart pounded as you met his intense gaze, which held a rare blend of sincerity and vulnerability that was almost disarming.

“You trust me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with a sincerity that cut through the tension of the moment.

You hesitated, the weight of his question hanging between you. The proximity of his body and the depth of his gaze left you momentarily breathless. “Why should I?” you whispered back, your voice betraying a mix of defiance and vulnerability.

Arthur’s eyes never left yours as he leaned in closer. “Because right now, it’s the only way we’re getting out of this,” he replied, his tone resolute but gentle.

In that charged silence, the dynamics of your relationship were shifting. You felt the usual barriers between you—formed by past conflicts and mutual distrust—began to dissolve, replaced by an unspoken understanding that was both electrifying and comforting. The anger and rivalry giving way to a fragile trust and an unexpected tenderness. 

With the footsteps slowly growing nearer, you saw a flicker of sincerity in his eyes that made you question your own doubts. You nodded slightly, trying to steady your breath. “Alright,” you whispered.

Arthur's lips curved into a faint smile, a mixture of relief and determination. “You gotta say it, sweetheart,” he urged softly.

Your mouth curled into a slight smirk as you looked up at him, your heart racing with a blend of anxiety and anticipation. “I trust you,” you said, the words feeling like a pact forged in the heat of the moment.

In a quick, decisive motion, he leans in and presses a firm, purposeful kiss to your lips, filled with urgency. The initial touch is electrifying, but as the kiss deepens, it becomes a release of suppressed feelings, a flood of emotions long held in check.

The kiss is fervent and consuming, each moment stretching out as if to make up for lost time. His lips are warm and insistent against yours, and there’s a raw, desperate quality to the way he kisses you. It feels as though every emotion he’s been holding back is being poured into this single, intense connection.

Your own lips respond with equal fervor, the kiss becoming a mutual surrender to the feelings that have been building between you. The world around you fades into the background, the only reality being the overwhelming sensation of his kiss. 

Arthur’s hand that had been pressed firmly against the wall, now frame your face with a gentleness that contrasts with the intensity of the kiss. His grip is both tender and possessive, as if he’s anchoring you to him, unwilling to let go.

The sound of someone clearing their throat suddenly jolts you back to reality. 

A servant, caught off guard by the intimate display before him, stood at the top of the stairs. His eyes widened in surprise, clearly unprepared for the passionate exchange unfolding before him.

You and Arthur break the kiss, though the intensity of the moment lingers in the charged air between you. With a quick, shared glance, you and Arthur both adjust your demeanor, the brief intimacy giving way to the reality of the mission.

The man, realizing he has intruded on a private and critical moment, clears his throat, clearly flustered at having walked in on the intimate scene before him, face flushing with embarrassment. "I-I’m sorry to interrupt, but this area is restricted to guests unless otherwise accompanied,” he stammers.

Arthur’s eyes narrow slightly, but his expression quickly returns to a more controlled demeanor. He gives the servant a nod of acknowledgment. “Sorry ‘bout that, partner. Seems my wife and I took a wrong turn and found ourselves in the wrong spot. We were just about to head on out.”

You, still caught in the afterglow of the kiss, straighten yourself and try to regain your composure. The abrupt interruption leaves you with a swirl of mixed emotions—embarrassment, irritation, and a lingering sense of affection. You cast a quick glance at Arthur, who responds with a subtle nod, signaling that it's time to move on.

Still visibly flustered, the servant offers a hurried apology, stepping aside with a rigid posture and a face flushed a deep shade of red. He tries to give you both space as you and Arthur hurry down the stairs, the charged atmosphere from the kiss still lingering between you. The abrupt return to reality sharpens your sense of urgency.

Arthur takes a deep breath, stepping back as his gaze meets yours for a moment longer. He opens his mouth to say something but hesitates before speaking again. “We should get a move on and find Dutch and the rest ‘em.”

You noticed his hesitation but decided to brush it off, nodding in agreement. “Sure, let’s see what’s next. The sooner we get this done, the better.”

You find Dutch, Hosea, and Bill on the first-floor balcony. 

“Ah, there you are!” Dutch exclaims, a smile on his face. He then turns to Arthur. “Find anything?”

Arthur gives a nod and taps his chest where he’s tucked the letter. “I think so.”

“Great. I think we’re done here.”

The four of you move to follow Dutch, briefly exchanging information with Hosea and Bill. Hosea mentions a potential robbery job targeting a big city bank, outlining the possible opportunities involved. You share what you’ve gathered earlier about a stagecoach expected to pass through Lemoyne in the next few weeks and the valuable jewels and cash it carries.

Dutch, Hosea, and Bill push past the front entrance, walking ahead. Just before you can follow, Arthur calls your name and gently grabs your arm, pulling you aside.

In the quiet corridor, away from the others, you face him. His eyes are a mixture of resolve and something else you can’t quite place. “Listen, I, uh…,” he trails off, his voice low, seeming to wrestle with his words for a moment before finally meeting your gaze. 

Your heart races, expecting him to address what happened between you earlier and the emotions that followed. 

Instead, Arthur’s tone is hesitant and detached. “‘Bout what happened earlier… I don’t want you thinkin’ it meant more than it did. We can’t afford to get all wrapped up in nothin’ personal.”

His dismissal hits you like a cold wave.

You had hoped for some acknowledgment of the shared moment, perhaps a sign that it meant something to him. Instead, his words feel like a sharp rebuff, making you question everything you thought you understood about what happened tonight.

“What are you talking about?” you demand, trying to mask the hurt in your voice. Your frustration and anger boil over. 

Arthur’s gaze falters for a moment before he regains his composure. He runs a hand over his face, clearly struggling to find the right words. “I just don’t think—” he begins, but his voice trails off as he lets out a frustrated sigh. 

He steps back, clearly distancing himself. “Look–I can’t offer you anything more than what we have. Let’s just focus on ending this job and not let personal feelings complicate things.”

You scoff, feeling the sting of his words. Personal feelings? 

“Right, so all that back there was just for show, was it? Just keeping up appearances?”

Arthur’s expression falters, and he hesitates. He opens his mouth to respond but closes it again, his frustration evident as he struggles to find the right thing to say. 

He turns to you, his expression now seeming emotionless and cold. “I didn’t mean to make it seem like nothin’ mattered. It’s just… I’m not tryin’ to make things too complicated. It’s best to keep things straightforward right now.”

The words and his tone cuts through you like a knife, the brief connection you shared now feels like a cruel tease, an illusion of intimacy shattered by the harsh reality.

His coldness is a stark contrast to the warmth you felt moments before, leaving you grappling with a mix of hurt and frustration. 

What started as mutual disdain had evolved into something more complex, yet now it feels like it's spiraling back into that familiar animosity.

You’d hoped that beneath the hostility and barbed comments, the genuine connection hinted at earlier tonight might bridge the gap between your conflicting dynamic. But now, it feels as if his rejection is pulling you back to square one—a place locked in an endless cycle of arguments and misunderstandings.

The idea that the warmth of those moments might have been nothing more than a strategic move or a fleeting distraction makes you question if there was ever truly a chance for something different between you two.

God, how naive you were to think there could be a sliver of something more between you and Arthur.

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself to focus on the task ahead. You push aside the personal turmoil, resolving to keep your interactions with Arthur as they were before—distant and guarded. 

With a blank expression masking the tumultuous emotions roiling beneath, you reply, “Fine. Let’s just get this night over with and move on. I’ll keep any ‘personal feelings’ out of the way if that makes it better for you.”

You turn away, forcing yourself not to say anything further that might reveal your feelings. As you do, you didn't miss the brief flash of hurt and sadness in Arthur’s expression before he quickly masks it with his usual stoic demeanor.

Finally rejoining the others, you enter the stagecoach and take your seat from before. Arthur takes his place beside you, the space between you charged with unspoken words and lingering hurt. 

The rift between the two of you feels even more pronounced, a painful reminder of what might have been overshadowed by the harsh reality of your circumstances.

Hosea and Dutch, seated across from you, seem to be blissfully unaware of the personal turmoil that has unfolded between you and Arthur, their conversation flowing naturally as they discuss the next steps of the gang’s plans.

The stagecoach rolls forward, and you turn to look out the window, drowning yourself in the passing scenery. The kiss and its aftermath now feel like an unspoken wound, deepening the complexity of your already fraught relationship and leaving you to grapple with the emotional fallout alone.

A/N: Okay so that ending was definitely not a happy one. After exploring where the story might go and experimenting more with the writing, I've decided that I mighttttt just make a Part 2, which might or might not include some smut hehe... So please stay tuned!

Thanks again for reading!

Read Part Two Here

[user211201]

Totally Normal

--- Originally posted on 2023-12-08 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

“Welcome back to Totally Normal, the online show where we narrow down the one thing that makes us all meet that standard!”

The host then hit a button on his laptop, releasing an audio for an uproarious round of applause. With his entire audience streaming in live, he had to make due with tracks. He didn’t mind it though; he could always predict what his viewers were thinking. It was like they shared the same mind.

“My name’s DJ, and before you ask, yes I have a side gig in music.” A laugh track obnoxiously inserted itself. “I don’t dabble in the typical jazz; I remix these men back to the tunes they oughta be singing.”

Another fake round of applause. The host smirked before continuing forward with the rules.

“The point of the game is simple: Figure out that one thing that makes someone totally normal. Through a series of questions, I’m going to chisel away at our contestants until we get to the base. For every wrong answer, a vibration will be sent out to their device until they head back on the right track. We want to find out that one thing that solidifies them as an average joe, but we don't exactly know what that thing is."

The host then took a scripted pause. "Well, *I *know what that thing is.”

Another laugh track entered before the host silenced his imaginary audience. “So, let’s get down to it. We have our men here, but ARE THEY NORMAL?”

The last three words were all enunciated with the typical gameshow pazazz. The host even had an accompanying audio that made it seem like there was an audience chanting it with him.

On cue, the livestream booted up a panel of the three contestants. The first was a shy young man, who by his age looked to be in college but by his height possibly younger. The second was the typical corporate homosexual, the breed who was already happily married and wore tight, designer clothing. And last but not least, the third looked just a little older than the first with an office that displayed the inner workings of a minor start-up.

“Help me welcome our first contestant, coming from the cool waves of Cali, here comes Cody!”

Corey opened his mouth to kindly correct the host, but was immediately silenced by the massive track of applause. A small and nervous 20-year-old, Corey was an academically-fine student at a state school. He worked as an IT intern, helping others work through their issues in a manner where he didn’t have to fully engage. Yet he knew he would probably have to work through this introvert problem if he ever truly wanted to make a loyal boyfriend from the crop of surfers across the street.

“Up next is our cowboy-tootin’, bullet-firin’ family man, Norman!”

Nolan made a face of disgust, but he too didn’t stand a chance against the fake cheers. He’d settled down with his husband just about 10 years ago in the suburbs. Working for a Fortune 500 company, he had everything a man of his caliber could want. Great company, great style, great pets instead of real children. Nolan loved his little metropolitan life.

“And finally, the privileged heir to the corporate throne, it’s Asher!”

Aaron rolled his eyes as the artificial eruption burst through his speakers. He assumed that this narcissistic jock host had gotten all of the contestants names wrong. Aaron had built his own business up from the ground, an independent hard-worker with no one tying him down. It wasn’t that Aaron didn’t want a boyfriend, he just needed to focus on himself. That’s why he was keeping it casual, hooking up with boys a little younger and less responsible. He absentmindedly pawed at his crotch a little as the douchebag DJ started the game.

“Now,” the host cracked his knuckles dramatically. “Let’s start off with some easy questions, just to make sure those devices are working after all. Cody, you’re looking comfortable out on that beach!”

Corey looked around the library he was sitting in confusedly, neither comfortable nor on a beach.

“I think you’re mistaking me for the surfers across the street,” Corey tried to joke, but his feeble demeanor spoiled the comeback.

“Men…you all ought to be where all the other guys of your kind are at.”

All three of them put on bewildered faces.

“Cody, what’s holding you back from embracing that Cali life?” the host asked.

“I…I mean there’s the obvious fact that they aren’t keen on ga-”

BZZT

“Ah!” Corey ripped his hand away, the "vibration" more of a literal sting.

“Cody, what’s holding you back?” the host asked again.

“Dude,” Corey uncharacteristically responded. “I don’t know if they will accept me, man.”

“Bro, what’s there NOT to accept?” the host chuckled. “You fit right in!”

Corey looked over his short frame, his pale skin, his shrimpy figure. He appeared better fit for the library than the bea-

BZZT

“You’re right DJ! I'm a gnarly guy like them brahs! They’ll totally accept me!”

Corey looked over his tall frame, his tanned skin, his toned figure. He appeared better fit for the beach than the library–that’s why he was on the beach after all!

“Alright alright,” the host nodded with approval. “Now Norman, let’s talk about your life in the countryside.”

‪‘Country side’?” Nolan interjected. “Do you consider Houston-”

BZZT

Nolan flung his hand back, “HOWARDWICK the countryside? You bet! Population 402, the two being me and my husband.”

“And what massive land you got behind you, I’m assuming you and your male fling built that together.”

“My what?” Nolan peered behind him, noticing his garden he’d built with his hus-

BZZT

-the ranch he’d built with his hustle. Well, not technically–this land had been managed through the traditional good ole ways of his parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents. He’d just been fixing it up here and there.

Nolan stretched his thickening fingers, hoping to desensitize them from the pain. “W…What in tarnation is goin' on ‘ere?”

The host continued on, mocking the Southern accent he’d implanted onto the second contestant. “A place fittin' for a cowpoke like y’all’s self! Ain’t no city folk allowed; you don’t want nothin’ queer intrudin' your property, right?”

Queer?!” Nolan spat back. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with bein’-“

BZZT

“Darn tootin’ straight! Ain’t nothin’ strange gonna be happenin’ on this ‘ere land.”

With the second contestant’s location rightfully reoriented, the host moved onto the third.

“And onto our Ivy League, let’s discuss ascension…I mean, ‘climbing the corporate ladder’.”

Aaron shot the host a dirty look through the screen. “You don’t think I worked hard to earn this position?”

“Well, you certainly didn’t do it all yourself.”

Aaron held his breath. He was a decently attractive man with his slim figure and responsible will, and even his anger made him appear wiser than his years. But Aaron's best feature was his independence, and he wasn’t going to let anyone taint his name over that.

“What, do you think my current boyfri-”

BZZT

“-my dating his-”

BZZT

“-my friends with benefits were involved?”

Aaron’s fingers tingled with energy. His body tingled with fury.

“Well,” the host snickered. “If by benefits, you mean…”

“What’s all this!” Aaron flipped. “This is simply…p…preposterous!”

“What are you talking about?” the host egged on. “It's simply normal for a man with your caliber to have such an ‘inheritance’.”

The other two contestants watched on with intrigue.

“I…I may have a b…benefactor,” Aaron suddenly revealed, as if something had just been placed upon his chest. But he was still independent, right? “But that has nothing to do with it!”

“Benefactor? Do you mean your DADDY?”

The fake audience suddenly burst into a chorus of shocked “Ooooohhhh”s. Aaron’s usual calm nature was flatlining, being replaced by a more quickly-agitated behavior.

“We may be really closely acquainted!” Aaron backpedaled. “But it’s nothing of that kind of sort!”

The other two contestants smirked as the growingly-pompous bastard was taken down a peg.

“Sounds pretty queer to me, man,” Corey interjected confidently, scratching at his defining abs.

“Yeah, Ah reckon that fellas a little less normal than us folks,” Nolan added, adjusting the large hat that had secured itself upon his head.

“SHUT UP SWINE!” Aaron spat, his face gaining back a little of his baby fat as he absorbed more child-like aggression. “I'm perfectly normal!”

The two men laughed alongside an obnoxious laughter track.

“He’s right folks, we men are on the right side of history.” The host knew he needed to move on, the show only had so much time of course, but he was having fun. “Surely that father-figure is just some kind of…relative?”

“Just a relative, brah?” Corey asked as his trim cut bloomed out into luscious blond waves.

“Seems closer than that, partner.” Nolan quipped as a graying stubble crawled upon his widening jaw.

“A….A relative?” Aaron stammered, a higher youthful pitch lightening his tenor as this benefactor became clearer in his head. “He’s…he’s someone who I f-“

BZZT

“Father! He’s my father: Asher Osvald the Third!” Aaron screamed, his blond locks gelling up into a refined style that didn’t match his own personality. “And you all better remember it when you see our company in the headlines!”

Both Corey and Nolan took their respectful back-offs, but the host could only smirk with pride. After a moment of self-congratulation, he noticed some slight hesitation from the first candidate.

“Dude…” Corey started. “Can’t you just see he’s messin’ with us, man? Don’t you guys feel kinda strange-“

“Aren’t you supposed to chill, dude?” The host immediately cut him off.

Corey’s mouth went flat, his chin taking the opportunity to curve out a little further. “How can I chill with-“

BZZT

“Without the support from my brosettes across the screen, duuuuude!”

The host watched on with glee as the female portion of the livestream burst into a flurry. Lots of hearts and kisses and even some eggplant emojis were flooding the chat. And the comments were getting suggestive too. One chick wanted to know why he was wearing a dorky button-up, and she was soon exposed to his lean bod and treasure trail. Another suggested he should flex for the camera, and Corey was happy to oblige, each of his muscles pumping larger as he did so.

“Now, Cody,” the host coyly asked. “I’m sure the fans would like to know what you do for work.”

“I uh…I work with coding.”

“You are studying IT?” the host replied, incredulous. “Sounds complicated man.”

Corey beamed at the compliment, an excited fever entering his voice. “Yeah, but I sort of have a gift for-“

BZZT

“IT...like as in ‘it’ man...not ‘eye-tee’ or whatever.”

“But it has something to do with a code, right?”

“Well…yeah man…” Corey’s lifeless vocal fry responded. “But it's not that nerdy crap…something more…uhhh…”

The host graciously provided the answer, “Manly?”

“Yeah man….’it’ is the uh…bro-code brah.” Corey fiddled with the cross necklace that had materialized around his neck, trying to structure his thoughts. Corey felt like his head was spinning in a light vertigo, but not out of stress. Rather, a pleasurable confusion. Cali dudes don’t think that much right? They just go with the flow, so why shouldn’t he man? Wasn’t that what was normal?

While Corey processed his internal dilemma, the host reconnected with the second contestant, noticing he too was becoming a little self-aware.

“Hey Norman, you’re really rocking that fit.”

Nolan was honestly surprised at the comment. He knew he looked good in his tight, patterned three-piece, but he didn’t think the ultra-straight host would notice that too.

“Those shoes must be great for the ranch.”

Nolan laughed. “These ole’ things? They’re Prada from last season-“

BZZT

“Uhh…Ah mean these boots are from that one brand-”

BZZT

“Ah’ve had these kickers for years, fella!”

The host observed quietly as the rest of the second contestant’s clothes altered. The suit jacket and vest disappeared completely. The pants grew out into a straight pair of jeans that had been worn continuously for many seasons. The shirt rolled it sleeves and loosened some buttons, darkening to a dusty black that was meant for hauling hay rather than implying gay. But as the outfit masculinized, there was one item that stubbornly fought back, unlike the man who wore it.

“And that belt, how long have you had that?”

Nolan evaluated the expensive snake leather. “Oh yeah, this ‘ere was a gift-“

BZZT

“What in TARNATION was that for?!” Nolan yelled, the vibration noticeably more painful than the previous blasts. The material of his belt quickly grew cheaper, a massive longhorn buckle blooming forth above his blooming pouch.

“S…Sorry y’all,” Nolan collected himself. “Ah don’t know what’s gotten ovah me, or why Ah’m speakin’ so-“

“Enough apologies,” the host gagged. “You are a man, are you not?”

“Yessiree, but that doesn’t mean we men ain’t got to be sens-”

BZZT

“Ah reckon yer right there, partner!” Nolan puffed out his chest, carrying his emerging muscle gut with him. “We men oughta be tough! The MAN of the household.”

The host snickered, his eyes meandering around the second contestant’s body as additional muscle and bulk was piled onto his frame. “And men like you ought to have a body like that, don’t they?”

The cowboy huffed, his torso heavy with Southern pride. Nolan had worked his muscular frame up over all these long years, from sunrise to sundown. At 6’4, his big hearty body was always devouring meat to stretch out everything from his big strong biceps to his huge Size 15 clompers!

With the first and second contestants almost there, it was time for the host to catch his third man up to speed. He had already advanced mighty far, his skin having cleared up a bit and a few arrogant gold trophies having appeared in the office background, but the host had some additional notches yet to secure before the final round.

“Now Asher, let’s get real here.” The host put on his classic douchebag smile for the audience. “Any ladies tickling that fancy lately?”

“What?” Aaron scoffed. “Are you dense? I'm into g-”

BZZT

“Girls…no…wait what?” Aaron felt strange. Why did the host ask if he liked…girls? And why was the thought of girls suddenly something he…liked?

“Listen ere’, partner,” Nolan suddenly interjected. “Yer talkin’ 'bout women like they’re nothin’!”

The host, displeased, fought back. “Aren’t you married to one, partner?”

Nolan couldn’t believe the disrespect. “Me? Married to a woman? Yeah right-”

BZZT

“-Ah am! Ah’ve been married to my lovely wife for darn straight twenty years! Ain’t nothing QUEER happenin' on this ‘ere normal ranch. I got youngins to raise after all!”

As Nolan became bombarded by memories of his new flock of children, the satisfied host switched back to his third contestant.

“Look, I think we should respect women.” Aaron tried his best to sound mature, now finding it extremely difficult to maintain. “In fact, I think we should respect all others appropriately-“

BZZT

“And by appropriately, I am referring to overlooking these swines of colleagues who cannot afford a top notch education adjacent to my own.”

The host queued up a laugh track for his next one-liner. “They weren’t kidding when they said someone with your prestige had everything handed down to you, including bad manners.”

Aaron felt his anger rising once again, it easily filling his shortening body as he squared out to an average 5’9.

“Well excuseeee me! I am my own person with-“

BZZT

“My father is a reputable man who would wish to-”

BZZT

“DADDY!”

Aaron stomped his foot, bewildered at this idiocracy. Why was he continuously interrupted? Why was he not given the required recognition? He was captain of the country club’s golf team, rowing team, youth league, and the youngest member on the executive board for Christ’s sake! He studied at an Ivy League! He was everything!

As Aaron tried to understand why none of these other men appreciated the absolute honors of his merit–which he refused to ever admit weren’t even his own–a small alarm went off from the host’s computer.

“Like what was that, mannnn?” Corey’s face furrowed into an all-too-natural look of dumbfoundment.

“Yeah,” Nolan reared. “What's y'all gonna do next?”

“I demand to know it this instant!” The host was surprised at the third contestant jumping in, but he assumed it was just his way of trying to maintain his (nonexisting) position on top. “Or else I’ll tell my father about this-!”

An insane uproar of artificial laughter echoed throughout their ears, startling and silencing them.

“Alright folks, you know what that sound means!” the host grinned. “It’s almost time to wrap up our show, and because our contestants still haven’t figured out what makes them 'Totally Normal', we’re going to have to speed things up!”

“But can’t there only be one winner?” Aaron whined.

“Technically, no,” the host responded honestly. “All of you can be winners if you find out what makes you totally normal.”

For the first time since the game had started, all three of the contestants fell silent.

“I mean, let’s look at our surfer stud Cody,” the host started. “You are almost there, but you gotta loosen that one thing that’s still pent-up, man.”

“Brah…” Corey complained. “What else is there?”

As if by some subconscious command from the host, Corey began dumbly palming himself, a light drool dripping from the edge of his lips. The constant cycle of tits and feminine bits in his mind bombarding all over thoughts.

“A totally gnarly surfer focuses on working out, banging chicks, and chillin’ dude.”

Corey guffawed with a stupid relaxed expression, casually groping as the host moved on.

“And Norman, you’ve worked hard for your position in life, haven’t you?”

The Texan father nodded in cold agreement.

“So what would pride a totally traditional cowboy more than his ranch, his woman, and his legacy?”

Nolan groaned as he instantly unbuckled the massive lock hiding his mighty steed. Huffing loudly, the Southern Baptist’s lil’ pony was wrangled into a full-fledged stallion, the kind that was built to produce offspring. And the kind that got worked up over anything that could threaten the generational uniformity his family, religion, and nation he swore to protect.

“And you, Asher,” the host swiped over to the final contestant. “What’s stopping you from becoming the total Harvard bastard?”

Asher’s face went red and his cock went hard.

“I’m talking complete corruption, pure privilege, Daddy’s little-”

The host was suddenly cut off by a loud holler, the exclaim like the crashing waves of the ocean. Immediately, the comment section blew up as the host, players, and audience watched the surfer jock release a blast of his sea salt spray.

But before the host could congratulate the first winner, the southern father turned around the corner. With one hand whipping his meat and the other held tightly onto his hat, it was only mere moments until the inevitable:

“YEEHAW!”

Once again, the audience burst into merriment over the propagating blast. It was then that Aaron’s anger truly took the best of him. He couldn’t be beaten by two no-names! He was the top of his class, an heir to a Fortune 500 company, and a totally normal man for Christ’s sake! Gripping his pecker and shining it furiously, Aaron accepted his heterosexual rage and vowed that he would win and please his…please his…!

“F…FAAAAATHERR!”

A loud, pretentious yell echoed out of the Harvard student, an endless splurge of funds dumping out of his mighty account. It was just one of the many things his heritage’s estate had granted him.

The host didn’t try to hide his devious sneer as the viewers erupted once more. He’d loved his job because everyone won every time. And now, seeing all the new stereotypical straights he’d created, the host couldn’t help but feel his own massive sausage chub. But he laughed the feeling off, knowing beating off over these other men wouldn’t have been “totally normal.”

“And it looks like with just a minute left on the clock, all three of our contestants will be going home as winners today!” The host then added his artificial rounds of applause. “So, did you three ever figure out what makes you ‘Totally Normal’?”

“Isn’t it obvious, brah?” Cody replied, the typical airhead more sure of himself now than when he had dropped out of high school. “It’s that we’re straight, mannnn…”

“He’s right, partner!” Norman added, his fatherly conviction always strong and steady. “Ain’t none of us are them faggots. If Ah do say so myself, we are all what the mighty Lord named men.”

“Well, if that is what common plebians such as yourself are called, then you shall address me as ‘I-V’,” Asher Osvald IV’s voice was doused in entitlement and a lack of understanding for anyone but himself. A pair of offscreen hands adjusted his tie just to prove his privilege. “After all, I do attend Harvard. I guess you could say I was destined for greatness since birth.”

“Yes, Asher, everyone here knows you are a prick.” The host immediately followed up his quip with a laugh track. “But that’s all we have for today’s show. Signing off, this is Host DJ!”

“Hang ten and surfs up, dudes!”

“The biggest rodeo’s the family and kids y’all!”

“I’m probably way richer than you vagrants, so don’t bother.”

“And don’t forget to ask yourself,” the host winked before adding in the final audio. “ARE YOU NORMAL?”

[ar-cadez]

Count Duckula Fan Rewrite!!

Recently I’ve been working on a Count Duckula rewrite that aims to give it a slightly more serious tone and semi-serialized story like many modern cartoons! It took some time, but I made redesigns of the main cast. I had fun making this project and I REALLY hope you do too! Because I’m extremely nervous that the small fan base Count Duckula does have will hate this

I haven’t actually finished the show btw so if there’s an antagonist or smth that shows up later I should’ve redesigned.. lmk! I’m open to suggestions I really like this show..

—————————————————

Basic Concept

Practically the same as the original show! There is a long line of reincarnations of a wicked vampire duck named Count Duckula, the most recent reincarnation went wrong and now the current Count is a vegetarian and much more interested in becoming famous than being evil.

Some major differences include the tone and story structure, being semi-serialized and having more serious arcs mixed in with the antics, along with a lot of changes in characterization. A big story change is also that Nanny was not hired until AFTER Duckula was reincarnated so Igor was the one who screwed up the ritual.

Tone wise I’d also like to slightly age up the target audience so it could get away with a bit more dark humour. My favourite part of the original show was moments that were just so morbid and completely brushed past. 13+ would be fine methinks.

Basic plot of the average episode would be about the count’s hyperfixation of the week and trying to get famous or profit from it. Not every episode would follow this structure though.

The grander themes of the series would be all about expectations from family and strangers and how those expectations can be completely false.

—————————————————

Characters

^^ Final lineup! ^^

Sketches (less interesting poses but shows off some things better)

Count Duckula!

What I wanted to change

I feel like Duckula from the original spin-off was already a really strong character! There is a lot to him and really all I would want from a more emotional reboot is to dive into what’s already there. I did kinda project on him a bit in this rewrite though… gotta write what’cha know!

I also changed his design quite a bit. I never thought the suit fit his personality and I wanted to go with something a little more bright. If I go back again I might saturate his shirt a bit more. I also wanted all the residents of castle Duckula to have purple in their designs and for duckula and Towser to share similar colour’s inversed

Character Traits

Hatred of his legacy

Duckula is the first member of his lineage to not be an evil vampire and he hates that role that is expected of him. This is partially what drives him to be the nicest duck he can be, in hopes of shaking off his legacy. This also causes him to reject anything that's “spooky” or has to do with vampires. He physically can't eat meat or blood due to his botched resurrection, but even the sight of either distresses him.

Attention Drive

Due to his infamy, all Duckula wants is to be liked by the general public. Everyone in his town is automatically scared of him and he tries really hard to change their opinions on him whether that be through attempting to bea good samaritan or by performing in town. (Both tend to end poorly for him)

ADHD and Theatre Kid Behaviour

Duckula is constantly picking up and putting down new forms of art and performance. This can be anything from oil painting to American football. He does tend to get frustrated or distracted and abandon projects or crafts entirely. His favourite artform is acting and music so as you can imagine he's very into musicals. His musical talents are decent but his acting is awful. He’s also known to loud and overly excited over his interests

Ego and Cowardice

Being given a position of power the day you came into existence does have the tendency to make you… immature to say the least. When in danger, if he even realises there is any, Duckula’s first move is to use his title as leverage. If that doesn't work, his second is to beg, grovel, and lie his way out of the situation. That, or hide behind his much more intimidating companions.

Rich Kid Syndrome

Having the majority of people you know be your house staff really messes with your sense of responsibility. Duckula can hardly do many basic life skills on his own because of this. It's not like he is completely lazy but he does have executive dysfunction and has yet to realise that fact, causing him to procrastinate on many things and completely forget or just get someone else to do it.

Not Naturally kind

Being his father’s reincarnation, it only makes sense that Duckula would inherit many traits from his past lives. Many of the other Counts were ego-driven cowards with desires for fame. They just went about it differently. Duckula actively tries to be kind and polite but a lot of passive aggression and snark slips through the cracks of that veneer. He would never want to admit that he has ANYTHING in common with his ancestors and he hates that being nice doesn't just come naturally to him. Being an immortal, Duckula also has a skewed sense of mortality and often doesn't understand the severity of certain injuries and situations.

This Duckula has ADHD and Autism in this rewrite and he struggles most with executive dysfunction, restricted interests, memory issues, atypical empathy (not specifically low or high), sensory issues (mostly with eating and some sound), and social cues. He also stims.

Towser!

What I Wanted to Change

Towser isn’t even really a character in the original. Just a running gag without a face. I wanted to balance out the main cast by adding another female character since I have feelings on Nanny as a character and i didn’t know if i would even be able to salvage that.

I really like what I came up with! She’s fun to me and I’ll probably flesh her out more later.

Character Traits

Family drive

Towser has little interest in birds that aren't close to her and it usually takes awhile for her to get used to new people. However, she’ll protect those that she does care about with her life. She is the castle’s guard dog and will do whatever’s necessary to protect it. This often comes at the cost of her sleep, because she feels like she always needs to be awake to protect them.

Tag Along

Following Duckula around like a puppy is what Towser does best! She might not fully understand his enthusiasm on certain subjects, but she's always up to backing him up on his newest fame seeking endeavours (though she herself prefers physical activity over creative works). She never expects anything to come of it, but hey, at least it's something to do. She also likes to hear Duckula rant to her about his interests.

Big Sister

Towser is of a much more stable mental state than Duckula, and as his only friend around his age, he trusts her more to be someone to talk to about his identity issues and issues in general. The two are a lot warmer towards each other than they are anyone else, and can also get away with messing with the other a lot more.

Big ol Lap dog

When in werewolf form, Towser tends to forget her size and often crushes them with her size. This usually wouldn't be a problem if it weren't for the fact that she's always a lot more cuddly and energetic in wolf form than bird form. This is because, as a werewolf, she's only in wolf form at night and being a fully nocturnal bird that should only be awake at night, this messes with her sleep rhythm a lot.

Igor!

What I wanted to Change

Personality wise Igor is already really strong and I didn’t change much of that. You’ll probably notice from the sketches that Igor has a skeleton hand, that’s because I made him undead in this version just to give a reason to how he’s been able to live this long since the original doesn’t really have one (which is fine)

Character Traits

Devotion to the role

Igor has been the Count’s butler since the first incarnation. He was assigned to keep the Duckula legacy alive by reincarnating his master every time he meets his fate and helping him readjust every time. Helping each new reincarnation bring misery and fear to the town they reside by with a smile… Until the most recent incarnation of course. He’ll stick it out though, because he still has hope for him.

Taste for the macabre

Whether it be killing innocents behind the back of his new master, decorating the castle with cobwebs and bones, or using his undead nature to scare and torture those around him, Igor certainly has an interesting idea of fun. Igor gets a sick enjoyment out of causing others distress and despises all things kind and cute, something which definitely frustrates Duckula, who's desperately trying to fix his own image.

Bitter Traditionalist

Having lived through the centuries in castle Duckula, Igor has gained an appreciation for the history of the place and the vampire ducks that have resided there over the years. He’s rather invested in the lives of his previous masters and is extremely cross with the newest incarnation for not only not caring about that past, but also completely disowning it. Igor tries desperately to get Duckula to be a normal vampire, truly believing it could work with enough effort. Less he spend the next few centuries with a vegetarian for a master… Igor would not have a problem with Duckula pursuing fame if it weren't for the fact that he thinks it's distracting him from true vampirism.

Tired old man

Igor has lived for many centuries and he does not feel as if he should have to babysit for an immature man child like Duckula. He would rather ignore or snark the young count rather than actually talk to him. When the two argue its a constant back and forth of passive aggression and personal jobs that they almost always forget what they're actually arguing over. Duckula is physically and mentally very young (17-early 20s) compared to Igor’s other masters due to the botched revival and he doesn't know how to, or want to, deal with it.

Nanny!

What I Wanted to Change

I’m sorry to any hardcore Nanny fans out there but this is practically a whole new character. I find Nanny to be frustrating and annoying in the original and who I personally feel is a very sexist and mean spirited character. There’s absolutely nothing I would want to write with a character who’s just “big stupid fat woman inconveniences everyone around her” it’s just uncomfortable after a certain point.

My idea for a new take was just an extremely kind older woman who’s a little airheaded but is a lot smarter than people give her credit for. This sets her up as a foil to Igor. She’s also the only non-monster resident of the castle in this version which I personally think is really interesting.

Character Traits

Only good influence

While Igor actively sets out to make Duckula a bad person and Towser couldn't care less about how Duckula acts, Nanny is the only direct influence in Duckula’s life who pushes him to do better. Nanny believes Duckula is a good person at heart and pushes him to take more responsibility in his life. She wants him to learn a good work ethic and is fully supportive of him trying to better himself.

Good Christian Woman

Nanny is, in fact, a christian. She is fully aware of the demonic nature of her companions but believes that everyone can better themselves no matter their circumstances and attempts to better those around her. Igor hates her for it but she’s totally ignorant to that fact.

Assertive Mother Figure

Though Nanny is a very kind woman, she is also not a pushover. She will assert authority over Duckula and anyone else if necessary, and most are compliant once she puts her foot down, if they aren't, however, Nanny does pack a punch and won't hesitate to use her strength to protect her family.

Smarter than she seems

Nanny is an airheaded optimist with a big heart and those traits make her come off a lot more clueless than she actually is. She may seem like she has no idea what’s going on but she’s actually very observant and is fantastic at assessing a situation and finding the best course of action.

Dr. Von Goosewing

What I Wanted to Change

I really liked the idea of the antagonist to Duckula was in a liniage of vampire slayers and that their ancestors have been fighting for generations. It gave me the perfect set up for a ✨SHADOW ANTAGONIST✨ I wanted to make this rewrite have the two reflect each other a lot more. To do that I wanted Goosewing to still be a really cooky guy but I didn’t want the public to know that.

Also I have no idea why he’s dressed like Sherlock Holmes in the original if he’s a Van Helsing parody and also an inventor. You could’ve leaned into either of those ideas but for some reason he’s dressed like a detective? so I tried giving him a more fitting outfit but keeping his colours for recognisablity.

Character Traits

Playing Village hero

Goosewing is considered a big deal in town because of his family of vampire hunters. He’s prepared his whole life to kill Count Duckula the moment he comes back and to protect the common folk from the paranormal. Despite this, Goosewing isn't actually particularly skilled at his job and usually ends up failing his assassinations due to his own incompetence. He feels like he has to play the role as a hero to continue his family’s legacy despite not particularly enjoying it or being good at it.

Overestimating the enemy

With how cunning and malevolent the past Duckula incarnations were, Goosewing expects the same from this one. Goosewing believes that Duckula is a dangerous and clever foe completely focused on causing others pain. In reality, Duckula is the most incompetent bird in all of Transylvania, aside fromGoosewing himself, of course. Goosewing also comes to believe that Duckula is only acting nice to later betray the public, a belief he is not quiet about and that keeps the public from trusting Duckula.

Mad Scientist

Goosewing definitely falls into the eccentric scientist trope with his innovative but scatterbrained nature. He would much rather be working on an invention than actually doing his job. The public sees him as a hero but while hunting vampires or when hes alone he comes off as more of a mad scientist than the hero character he plays. His intentions are ultimately good but are completely based on the assumption that he’s the wholly good protector of the people and that Duckula is a cunning villain who's out to get him and everyone else.

Shadow

Goosewing and Duckula reflect each other in a lot of ways. They both have a legacy they are expected to uphold despite not wanting to or even being able to, they both care deeply about the public’s opinion on them while the public has an incredibly incorrect view of the both of them, and they both have creative interests outside of the roles expected of them that they'd rather be persuing. Duckula fully rejects anything to do with his ancestry, while Goosewing is actively trying to fulfil despite not enjoying it.

The Murder Brothers!

What I Wanted to Change

Haha I called them the murder brothers bc they’re crows and criminals Im actually so funny… anyway. I don’t know if I should’ve even done these guys but I really like them as antagonists so!!

I gave the younger two names and a personality. The wiki said they didn’t have names but if they do lmk and I’ll just fix that. Other than that I didn’t change much except try to give ‘em a bit more depth and changing their physical designs a ton for fun.

Character Traits

The Murder Brothers, as a whole, are a tight knit family of con men crows who pull any grift they can to get their hands on some cash. Though they may act like their only loyalty in life is to money, they do genuinely care about each other's well being

Ruffles

Ruffles is the short tempered and eldest leader of the group. He’s constantly frustrated with his brothers’ incompetence and isn't quiet about it. He believes that if it weren't for them he'd probably be a lot further in life by now (which isn't true) and he’ll say he doesn't care about them, but he actually does.

Burt

If he didn't insist on helping his brothers, Burt would be the most likely to be living an honest life. As the second oldest sibling, Burt holds a position as right hand man. He’s a naturally kind and enthusiastic bird who, while a bit dumb, does openly express his love for his brothers. He takes on a lot of the abuse from his older brother and is often used by the group to talk to others, because he's so naturally trustworthy.

Reggie

Reggie is the second youngest of the brothers and the most relaxed out of all of them. He has an impeccable sleight of hand and is the go to for lockpicking and such. He’s a decent smooth talker and is often the one to break up fights, though he's not above getting angry at the others himself.

Leroy

Leroy is the youngest of the brothers and by far the least skilled. His speech is incomprehensible from under his mask (although he can see through it for the most part) and he’s often left with the worst jobs during their cons because of that. He’s the most timid out of all of them but I’m sure if you took that mask off of him he’d be really talkative.

—————————————————

Ending Words

Well that’s all I got! I spent way too long on this project that maybe two people will care about and one of them is me 💔 Anyway if I make anything else for this rewrite/au I’ll tag it with #wbcd . I wouldn’t count on it because I mighttt get burn out from this but im just so glad I finished it! I’ve thought about writing a pilot script just for fun but idk. I’d like to do more long format au stuff, I was going to make a YouTube video about this but I almost cried trying to record myself so I gave up 💔

[commenter2]

Like I said earlier, it's been revealed that Leviathan in Vivziepop's shows is female, which is interesting as I've previously seen articles about the general idea of Leviathan being a male creature, though I have recently seen others saying Leviathan is female. That doesn't matter BUT this does give me a new idea for the origins of Vivziepop's Leviathan that I think would be fun for her character.

Their character? While only on screen for a short time I think Leviathan is another one of those characters where two separate personalities share a body but both identifying as female. I might got back and forth on occasion until Vivzie clears things up.

In a previous post I said how there is a story about Leviathan (which was stated to be male in said story) was very powerful that God feared it destroying humanity AND that he had a mate.

This gives me an idea that in the past Viv's Leviathan found someone who liked them in their entirely, as given HB Leviathan's design I feel like most would be attractive to the beautiful white head instead of the purple head, and this made Leviathan happy and the two ladies and their mate fell in love with each other.

Eventually Leviathan got pregnant and was really happy BUT God (or maybe another angelic being) got nervous and decided to destroy Leviathan before she can give birth. Maybe this happens during the war between Heaven and Hell. Either way this is still messed up but just follow along for now. Leviathan would have died BUT her mate pulled an Encanto (the 2nd time I made this comparison to one of Viv's characters this month) and sacrificed his life to protect Leviathan and his unborn child/children. This devastated Leviathan and while she was able to have the child/children in Hell after being banished (eventually became part of the first generation of aquatic demons among other aquatic followers of theirs/Lucifer that got banished), she vowed to still fight against God, making God's fears come true.

That last part fit with my idea of aquatic demons liking to spread fear, as Leviathan realized that it would be sweeter payback if instead of destroying humanity, she would by damage God's creations by making them feel fear and paranoia.

I also could see this leading her being envious of other couples as maybe she still hasn't moved on from her lost. At least not the purple head as I think white was kind of interested in Mammon's flirting (gross I know) but that could have been for another reason that I will go over another day.

[thanatos1dahilias]

YOU 🫵🏼🫵🏼 SHARE UR OCS I WANNA KNOW ABT THEM

I. I HAVE A FEELING I KNOW WHO THIS IS... BUT ANYWAYS YES IM GOING TO AGRESSIVLY TALK ABOUT AARON STERFON NOW SO THANK YOU 🥳🥳 Aaron Sterfon (steps 1 and 2 because im still working on some ideas for his step 3 design)

STEP 1 - He's really nervous and awkward but people still think he's cool - Aaron doesn't have the best relationship with his mom and never really has, but at the end of the day he still loves her - His mental health decline starts when him and Opal move to Golden Grove because it means he loses all the friends he had and whatever elementary schooler life he had built - He's originally from Arizona because I thought that'd be fun (he hates the cold but also loves it) - He's trans, but doesn't really know the term at all. He just tells people "oh im a guy" and they're like "oh cool I believe you" and it makes him happy. His mom just followed along and called him her son because she kind of realizes what's happening - Big fat crush on Qiu, literally said "oh my god you're stunning" and that was that STEP 2 - He's louder and more talkative, kind of rowdy and rude to people without meaning to be - Him and Opal rarely talk anymore, he doesn't even think she knows he's trans (she does and has since he was 10- more so assumed but shh) - He wears fake piercings because he doesn't really want real ones till he's older (fake septum and lip ring) - Mental health who? Yeah he. He's got really bad depression and no one besides his mom and Qiu really know much about it. It's terrible and I plan to torture him with sad fanfics - His fashion? It's actually great now, people constantly want to snatch his outfits and i think that's fun. We just. We just ignore the fact that he looks like Nico Di Angelo from PJO okay? - Because my favorite show is Supernatural I'm making his favorite show Supernatural because that's still timeline accurate and. Yeah. - His music taste here is more so alternative rock with some guilty pleasure pop. His ipod shuffle would be messy as HELL. - And finally, he's still got the biggest crush on Qiu and it's mutual (obviously to everyone else, not them. They flirt and go "oh shit bro dont like me" because they're stupid I HAVE OTHER OCS I MIGHT RANT ABOUT IN THE FUTURE BUT. LITTLE MR STERFON HAS BEEN ROTTING MY BRAIN SO THANK YOU FOR ASKING !!!!!!!!!

[roseeycreates-blog]

I’ve been getting asks about the Farmer AU, and it's bringing me so much joy! 😂 There are 2 more asks left, so here’s something in the meantime. If you have more questions, just send them my way—it’ll make me truly happy! ANYWAY~

Here are the GAANG KIDS. Can you recognize who's who? 😊🤭

I had fun designing these on Picrew!~ female | male

After dating for a year, Lin decided to officially become Tenzin's girlfriend. Tenzin was over the moon, and his siblings noticed the sudden change in his attitude. They interrogated him until he cracked and confessed about Lin. Kya had an idea and told Tenzin they wanted to meet her. Tenzin hesitantly agreed, knowing his sister well enough to realize there was no stopping her. When the day came, they all met at a coffee shop. To Tenzin's surprise, Kya and Bumi weren't the only ones there—Princess Izumi and Suyin Beifong were also sitting at the table. Tenzin let out a huge sigh, touching his temples, while Lin just smiled at him, trying to calm him down. Lord Zuko's only daughter, Princess Izumi, was in town because, as the future Fire Lord, she needed to be up-to-date on all political meetings and such. Suyin was just bored at home, so she decided to come along. Lin was nervous at first, but seeing Tenzin looking more stressed than her helped her relax. As they settled down, Tenzin let Lin sit first. Bumi teased, "Wow, Tenzin, such a gentleman! You never do that for us." Kya chimed in, "Yeah, what's with the special treatment? You never pulled out a chair for me!" Suyin chimed in, "Seriously, Tenzin, that's a first!" Izumi added with a playful smirk, "Well, I have servants for that, but it's nice to see chivalry isn't dead." They all laughed, and Lin felt herself easing into the conversation. It felt like she had known them forever. Once everyone was comfortable, they asked Lin about her work and where she was from. She explained, "I own a farm outside Republic City. I originally came from Ba Sing Se." Bumi then pointed out, "Hey, weren't you featured in the newspaper recently?" Lin smiled, "Yes, that was me." Suyin asked politely, "Are you a bender by any chance?" Lin shook her head, "No, I'm not." Suyin remarked, "That's surprising. I'm an earth bender and imagine having that element, it would make farming a lot easier." Kya nudged her as Tenzin glared at Suyin. Izumi swiftly changed the subject, "So, Lin, how did you and Tenzin meet? I'm curious… What did you see in him?" Lin and Tenzin were caught off guard by Izumi's question. Lin glanced at Tenzin, who looked slightly insulted but then smiled at her, encouraging her to share the story. Lin took a deep breath and started to explain, "Well, we met for the first time…"

[kauli01]

Hi! I’m Kauli! Here’s some basic info about me! I’m nervous about posting on a new platform 🗿😞

♪ Basic info ♪

Kauli ★ Canadian ★ B-Day: 3/10 ★ 18↓ ★ she/her ★ artist ★ Bi & Aro ★ OC X canon (SharkJelly (Silver X Harley) AppleShark (Epel X Harley) EggShark (Deuce X Harley) BirdShark (Rook X Harley) BearGummy (Trey X Harley) and so on)

♪ Fandoms I’m in ♪

Genshin Impact ★ Diabolik Lovers ★ Twst ★ Fragaria Memories ★ and that’s it…☠️

♪ Funny notes ♪

★ I mainly ship my OC (Harley) with my favourite characters.

★ She’s just an OC and was originally gonna be a self-insert but she quickly became an OC.

★ I like talking to others but I tend to get nervous…but yea!

★ My timezone is GMT-7! I have school so I’m probably less active (mainly because of how bad the school wifi is…) ★

★ My inbox is open to anyone so! Go for it LOL! Please only ask about my OCs and AUs— I don’t take requests as well! ★

★ Every Twst character are my favourite but I do have top favourites! And Skully is HDRIDRJRNSIRI 💕 ★

★ I apologize but I prefer to not be friends with adults simple due to our age differences but we can be moots! :D ★

★ I don’t want non-sharing yumes to interact with me (I had experience with them and tend to get a bit annoyed by those people, I felt restricted due to that as well and I find the whole concept silly) and everything is fictional.

★ And your sensitivity is your responsibility. ★

★ I make content for myself and for shits and giggles ★

★ I like yapping about my OCs and Harley’s ships

♪ TAGS ♪

#Kauli_OCs

My OCs!

♪ Boundaries ♪

—About OCs—

!! I'm uncomfortable when others who aren’t my close friends draw Harley or my other OC's in NSFW artworks !!

!!! I ship Harley with any of the twst boys (not including Ortho) or medias I'm into since I don't really have a main ship !!

!! But if it makes you uncomfortable; feel free to block me !!

!! Harley or my other OCs aren’t healthy characters and they do have toxic tendencies so please don't kin them since it makes me uncomfortable and don’t alter their appearances !!

—Creators boundaries—

!! I go by Kauli which is my online name since I'm uncomfortable about using my real name so please call me Kauli !!

!! Please don't ask me to be friends with you because it makes me feel pressured to be friends with you and I’ll be uncomfortable, I want our friendship to develop naturally and if we clicked !!

!! I do make suggestive artworks of my OC Harley which I'll always try to add a warning beforehand but I won't draw NSFW due to being a minor !!

!! Suggestive comments / artworks towards Harley are fine but NSFW artworks of her isn't, you are most likely to be blocked !!

Ask me anything about Harley’s lore / personality / anything ^ ^

Here’s character reference of Harley!

[horseshoegirl]

Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 6 - Three Little Birds

📜 just a PSA for you all that I love each and everyone one of you, and I’m so grateful this group of people bring each other up online then bring them down (for context, I had a bad experience with a social media post this past week (never again am I sharing videos of me riding)... the equestrian community can be so ruthless🤦🏻‍♀️) So I’m happy I can come here and feel supported.

I apologize in advance for a sad Sadie in this one. We also have a little bit of a time jump in this one!

❗️18+, strong language, angst, godmother reader/original female character, deployments, and a Sad Sadie (She needs her own warning).

#5.9k Words

Part 5 | Masterlist | Part 7

You wish you could say you weren’t expecting it to happen. That the routine of their 8 to 4 day didn’t lull you into a false sense of security. That the Saturday nights and dinners and time spent together would last forever. 

But that was the deal when your friends were in the Navy. Time was a luxury only a few could afford. 

And your time with them was past due. 

This Saturday night was designated game night. On game nights, Sadie would rummage through the few shelves on your bookcase you set aside for games, puzzles, books and other activities to find a selection of games she thought the others would like. 

You would make finger foods, and your kitchen island would be littered with big plates and trays so everyone could come and go as they pleased. Sadie would go looking for your Cards Against Humanity set, despite hiding it in a very unreachable place, and you’d race from the kitchen to snatch it out of her hands, always telling her she could play it when she was older. She’d wait for a second, then say, “Okay, I’m older.” 

You'd laugh at her, and she would laugh back. Only this time, your doorbell rang.

You froze. You always left your front door open when you knew to expect them. They knew they could walk right in and make themselves at home.

Walking to the front door, you became nervous, weakly clutching the handle as you twisted, pulling it back to reveal the entire team lined up side by side, standing together on your porch. All of them together, minus Mav? It took only one look for you to know. 

They had been called up. 

“When?” you gasped. 

“Tomorrow night,” Phoenix replied sadly. “For at least three months.”

Something sharp pierced the centre of your chest, your ears boxed, and your throat closed shut, taking you back to that Friday night at the Hard Deck with the phone call. You barely acknowledged the pain in your forearm, where you had reached up to grip it tight, fingernails biting into your skin. Your heart, thumping hard, now aching for your friends and the unbearable weight Sadie would have to carry.

If only you had had this talk with her sooner. Ridley never made it home to her that Friday night. And now she had to shoulder the knowledge her newfound family could be taken away at any moment, the difference being it was an expectation for a possible someday, not the outcome of a random accident. 

You couldn’t help but crumble into the door frame, your head falling to the wood as the first sob worked its way up your throat. Nat immediately took you into her arms, hugging you tight. You wrapped your arms around her, weight sagging into her, as you realized you’d now have to learn how to cope without your friends being there for you and Sadie. 

“Sadie,” you gasped into her shoulder. “How am I going to tell her?”

Nat pulled back, grabbing your cheeks. “We can do it together. She’s a lot stronger than we give her credit for.”

You huffed a laugh through your tears, Nat pressing her forehead to yours in an effort to give you the strength to ground yourself.  You hated when people saw you cry.

Tearing yourself away from her, you looked to Bob, who had moved beside you. “Sadie’s going to be okay. She has you.”

Jake opened his mouth to say something but paused, mouth agape, when a voice called out from behind you.

“Aunt Liz? What’s going on?” 

You stiffened, tearing yourself away from Jake’s gaze as you turned to face Sadie, wiping at your face. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked, coming to stand in the open door frame.

“Bug, we need to have a chat,” your voice wavering as you spoke. 

“What do you mean?” she looked from Nat, Bradley, and Jake to the rest of the team standing on your porch.

You reached out your hand, stepping forward to meet her with a sad smile. She stared up at you as she let you lead her back inside, leaving the front door open for the other to follow and taking her over into your family room. 

Bradley was right on your heels, sitting beside Sadie once she settled on the couch, taking her free hand into his. Nat also followed, resting her elbows on the back cushion behind Sadie while Jake leaned against the wall, arms crossed and glancing intently between the pair of you. The others decided to hang back, letting you have your space to tell her. 

“You know how the Daggers are in the Navy, right?” 

Her voice was small as she replied, “Yeah?” 

“Well, they need to go away for a little while. They need to go and help protect some people.” 

“Okay?” she said softly. 

“The thing is, Bug,” you paused, tucking a piece of her hair back behind her ear, “There’s a chance some of them might not make it back.” 

She reeled back, eyes so childlike and innocent.  “What do you mean?” 

Feeling a tear run down your cheek, you couldn’t begin to form the words to explain that this might be the last time she saw her aunt and uncles. Just like her mom, you didn’t want to explain that this particular Saturday night might be the last chance she could spend with them.

It took her a minute, but you could see the realization on her face, your silence and tears filling in for what you couldn’t say. Her mouth dropped slightly, and her eyes started to relax from concentration. What followed was the understanding, her brow furrowing, nose scrunching up. 

Then came the grief. 

“No,” She cried out, bottom lip starting to quiver. “No!” 

She turned to Nat, who smiled sadly at her as she started to sob. Rooster hooked his arm around her stomach, pulling her back into him. Sadie turned in his hold and buried her face in his chest. Bradley dropped his forehead to her shoulder as she cried. 

"I'm so sorry, Bug."

When it came to things like this, Ridley and you decided early on you’d never sugarcoat things with Sadie. Like when you moved out when you went to school, telling her at five years old you wouldn’t be living with them anymore, but you’d be a visit, a phone call, a drive away from her. She had been upset, but she had accepted it. 

Would it have been easier on her if you did sugar coat it? 

She didn’t want to let Rooster go, even as Nat reached down to rub her back. Sadie openly wept, and you couldn’t do anything but sit back and watch her crumble. Looking up, Jake was still up against the wall. Only his head was bowed, eyes closed, tensing his body every time Sadie’s escalating cries filled the room. 

It was intense, everyone trying to get through the game, eat dinner, and forget what would happen tomorrow. 

Sadie tried her best, but even as she sat beside Rooster, she didn’t want to let go of his arm, leaning right into his body as she played the game. Bradley humoured her. If he was uncomfortable, he didn’t let on.

Bob accidentally knocked over his deck of cards onto the floor, causing everyone to laugh harder than they should. You took the moment to excuse yourself, disappearing to collect dishes and retreat into the kitchen while everyone was distracted trying to find his cards. 

Plugging the drain, you turned on the tap, squirting soap into the sink, watching the dishes submerge under the rising water, gripping the edges of your counter hard until your nails hurt with the force. 

It was how you were feeling. Like the world wanted to drown you with things beyond your control, and you couldn’t stay afloat. Your friends were your saving grace, next to Sadie, and now, you found yourself wondering what you might do without one of them. 

“She’ll be okay, Liz.” 

"I feel guilty, crying like this when you guys are going off saving the world, risking your lives.” 

Jake came up behind you, placing a hand on your back. “Because you’re worried about her?” 

“It’s not just her I’m worried about Jake,” you sniffed, wiping at your eyes. “God, I feel selfish.”

“Oh, is someone concerned for little old me?”

“Yes,” you exhaled. “Especially you. I’m afraid you're going to do something stupid in the air.”

“Best of the best, Liz," he reminded you. "Or aren't you forgetting who we are?"

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”  You said, stepping forward to turn off the tap before turning back to face him, his green eyes wide.

“You have nothing to prove to no one, Jake. Please remember that when you are up there.” 

Jake stared at you for a minute before stepping forward, grabbing your arms below your elbows to pull you to stand in front of him. You let him, too numb to protest or to react.

“The both of you are going to be alright, Liz. You're going to wake up tomorrow and carry on your day like you always do. And the day after that and the day after that. You don’t need to worry about us.”

You sniffed. "I always worry about you guys."

“This isn’t anything we haven’t already done before. And I can’t say for the others, but when I get back, you, the bug, and I are going to celebrate.” 

“I didn’t scare you off?” you huffed with a smile. He scoffed, “As if.”

He watched as you shook your head, eyes downcast as you bit your lip.  “Come here,” he said, pulling you into his chest, the palms of your hands coming to rest behind his shoulders and your head resting sideways on his chest. You could hear Jake’s heartbeat steadily thumping away beneath his shirt.

It did more for you than any kind words or long hug could have.

“We’ll be back to annoying you on Saturday nights and back at the bar before you know it.” He said, his voice low and his hand flexing on your back.

Despite everything you were feeling, you believed him.

The night carried on, and Sadie didn’t want to go to bed before they left. You didn’t blame her, watching as she held her sides, fighting sleep while sitting on your front porch step, only lit by the two lights on either side of your front door.

Rooster kneeled down in front of her, a hand on her shoulder,  “We’ll be back before you know it, Bug.” 

Natasha followed, lowering herself down next to Bradley. “You need to make sure your Aunt doesn’t burn down the house.” 

Although she was sad, Sadie cracked a smile at Nat’s words. She glanced between the two of them before launching herself off the step, throwing herself between Nat and Bradley to hug them at the same time. 

“I love you guys,” she said, bowing her head. Nat and Rooster pulled her closer, wrapping their arms around her to grip each other's forearms.

“We love you too, Bug,” Nat replied.

Sadie made her rounds, saying goodbye to everyone. When she made it to Jake, he kneeled down in front of her, opening his arms as she threw herself at him. He whispered something in her ear. Sadie nodded before burying her head into the crook of his neck.

You would have observed them longer had not Bob and Coyote approached you, hauling you into their embrace and reminding you to take care of yourself. As did Fanboy and Payback, who followed not long after.

Bradley had pressed a kiss to the side of your head, an arm wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close for probably what felt like minutes. Nat butted him out with her hip to tackle you into a hug, making you promise when she came home, you’d go out for drinks.

Then came Jake, standing in front of you with an apprehensive smile. 

You couldn’t stop yourself, hot tears streaming down your face as you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your face into his shoulder. Jake froze for half a second before his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. 

The Daggers didn’t seem to mind the close goodbye. Maybe they were too occupied by Sadie. Or perhaps they recognized your need to say goodbye to everyone, even Jake, given your history.

“Be safe, Jake,” You whispered into his shirt. Jake squeezed you tight before pulling back, still in his arms, as he looked down at you. He stared at you for a few seconds before leaning forward and pressing his lips to your forehead, humming against your skin.

“See you soon, darlin’.”

___

Despite the long-lasting promise you and Sadie made when Ridley passed away to be there for each other, neither of you caved in the months after. However, with their absence, it went unsaid that promise would extend toward the Daggers.  

It had been three weeks since they left on deployment, and Sadie had caved. 

It was the same routine. She’d wake up, pick at her breakfast with red eyes, get dressed and stay silent on the way to school. When you could pick her up, she wouldn’t run to greet you at the end of the day. On weekends, she stayed quiet, barely saying a word. And the minute she finished her homework after dinner (math homework returning to being troublesome), she’d retreat to her room for the rest of the night.

She was back to the shell of the person she had been before Phoenix and Rooster inserted themselves into your lives. And even as you tried to help her, she never allowed you to see her cry. She was putting up a front and wouldn’t let you help her. 

You knocked on her bedroom door. “Bug, can you please come out?” 

“No,” came a muffled reply. 

“Sadie Bug, please. I miss them too.” 

“They won’t come back.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

Halloween was worse. It was probably one of the last few times she would have wanted to go out before she deemed it too childish. Instead, she curled up on the other side of the couch, watching Halloween movies as you answered the door, not even saying a word. 

“Can you please come into the family room? So we can be there for each other? Maybe we could put vinyl on?”

You were met with complete silence. 

“Okay,” you relented, hugging yourself. “I’ll be out here if you change your mind.”  

Stepping away from her door, you treated down the hallway to your kitchen, making yourself a cup of tea before curling up under a blanket on the couch. You pressed yourself into the back cushion, cradling the steaming cup to your chest as if it would fix the pang in your chest.

You looked around. The family room table was littered with Sadie’s math homework, you staying up late at night to try and figure it out for her.  If Jake were here, he’d be able to help her, you would think every time you got frustrated. 

Jake.

In the few weeks he had been gone, you found yourself thinking about him at the most random of times. Making your coffee in the morning. Working at the Hard Deck, passing by the dartboard or the pool table. You had known him less than a month before he was called off, yet you felt his absence the strongest.

Sadie missed him too. And that had to count for something. 

You saw her, out of the corner of your eye, half hidden behind the wall. You gave her a soft smile, lifting the edge of your blanket as an invitation. She didn’t hesitate, quickly walking forward and diving under the blanket. She curled herself into your side, legs hooked over yours, head buried into your neck as you covered her, snuggling her in tight. 

Whether she was done putting up a front or the comfort was too much, Sadie started to cry in front of you for the first time since they left. 

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, you said, “Your aunt and uncles are the best. I know for a fact they will do anything to make sure they can come home.” 

“I want them to come home,” she whimpered into your chest. “I don’t want to lose them, like Mom.” 

“You know what she’d say if she were here?” 

Sadie sniffed. “She’d tell us we don’t need them.” 

You snorted. “Well, besides that.” 

She shook her head. Tugging her close, you replied, “She’d say we would have to keep moving forward, doing things because they can’t. I think Aunt Nat would want that for us too.” 

Sadie dropped her head to your shoulder. As you threaded your fingers through her hair, an idea popped into your head, a result of the conversation you had with Penny the week prior. 

“How about this?” you said, pulling back to look down at her face, wiping away a stray tear.  “Aunt Penny was going to send Uncle Mav a care package. How about we see if we can send something to the Daggers? A letter? Polaroids?” 

She bit her lip, contemplating what you said.  “I bet Uncle Bob would want to see some of the bugs you’ve seen,” you encouraged her.  

 Her next words were like a punch to your gut. 

“Can we send one to Uncle Jake too?” 

Uncle Jake. Not Hangman, Not Jake. Uncle Jake.

It was only natural Sadie would start calling him that. Oh, Rooster and Phoenix wouldn’t be happy about this. Yet, there was a part of you that was secretly pleased Sadie had, in her own way, officially accepted Jake into the group. 

He deserves a chance, right? To know people care about him? 

“Why wouldn’t we send one to Uncle Jake?” 

That’s how you found yourself sitting with Sadie at your kitchen table, sheets of lined paper and copious amounts of her polaroids in front of the two of you a few weeks later. She had separated a few into piles, each designated for a Dagger, with envelopes neatly labelled with call signs, all organized beside each other.

You wrote letters to each, filling them in about Sadie and placing them next to her letters on the table when you were done. Mav’s mostly included updates about Penny and Amelia, knowing he’d like to hear it from somebody else to confirm things were okay. 

But when it came to Jake’s, you drew a blank. You attempted to write ‘Jake’ on the first line of several pieces of paper, trying to form that first sentence, only to get frustrated and crumple the page in your hand. 

“Do you like him?” Sadie teased, grinning at your efforts. 

“What?” you stuttered, looking up at her. “No, I just don’t know what to write.” 

“You had no problems with the others,” she replied, spreading a group of photos in her hand like a deck of cards. 

“Cause I knew what to say.” 

“And you don’t know what to say to Uncle Jake?” 

While you were glad to see her mood was improving, you could do without the teasing. 

“It's different. He’s new to the group.” 

“Yeah, he’s different,” she giggled before returning to sort through the photos in her hand. Scanning through the polaroids, Sadie spied one she had forgotten she had taken. 

Something at that moment clicked in her head, her mom’s voice forming the idea from memories of overheard phone call conversations and teasing remarks while she glanced up to make sure you weren’t watching her - you attempting to start Uncle Jake’s letter once again. Picking the photo from the group, she slid it under the others in the pile before you could glance back up.

“What are you sending him?” 

“Just some photos of the hike.” 

“Oh, can I see them?” you asked, extending your hand to grab the photos she had put in his pile. 

Sadie was quicker, reaching out and snatching them right from under your hand. She threw her hand with the photos above her head while reaching for the smaller blue envelope with Jake’s call sign with her other. She quickly pulled everything into her lap so you couldn’t see her, placing the collection of polaroids inside and hurriedly bringing the waxed edges to her lips, sealing it tight. 

Her answer was final as she glared at you. 

“Nope.” 

____

You had no idea how Penny swung it, but with her being an Admiral’s daughter, you figured she still had some sway.

Were video chats a thing in the Navy? You had no idea, but she had come bursting through the Hard Deck doors one day while you were working, wanting your email address. When you asked her why, she replied, “Well, don’t want to talk with them?” 

When would you never say no? 

Sadie could not shut up about getting her own screen time with each of them, however, spread out they were. Almost bi-weekly, she was on a video chat with a Dagger. Of course, Rooster was first, followed by Natasha, Bob, Coyote, Fanboy and Payback. She even got some time with Maverick.  And Jake, who still helped her with her Math homework, from god knows where, probably on the other side of the Earth. 

You had to pick. While Sadie had special circumstances from Cyclone (She could hook anyone around her finger, even stone-cold Cyclone), you could only choose three. 

So here you were, sitting at your desk on a cold afternoon, fiddling with the knick-knacks on your desk or organizing your pens as you glanced up every so often to find the spinning ball of death running on an endless loop on your computer.

That was until you heard his voice. 

“Hey, darlin'” 

The first thing you noticed about Jake when you looked up at your screen, even with his trademark smirk, was how drained he looked. Jake had dark circles encasing his eyes, his shoulders slouched, and while you found yourself admiring the cocky smile, it was a tired one. 

“Oh, Jake, are you okay?” 

He shook his head. “They have us alternating on early morning runs.”

You grimaced. “Rooster and Phoenix said you guys are going up a lot. More so than usual.”  

“There’s a lot going on here.” You knew he couldn’t say much more on the subject, yet you still wanted to know how he was doing. 

“Have you had a chance to talk to your family?” His face tensed up at your words, his eyes casing downwards before he managed a reply of, “Just my sister and her husband.” 

You frowned. You knew he was speaking about Janet. When Jake told you he had an older brother and a younger sister, you thought maybe he had a somewhat supportive family. But now, it didn’t sit right with you they didn’t want to speak with him, let alone his own mother, while he was away on an active assignment. 

You’d expect nothing less from his father.

“When was the last time you spoke with her?” 

“Not since I went for a visit. She’s expecting her first kid in a few months.” 

You were genuinely happy for him. “Jake, that’s amazing. You’re going to be an uncle.” 

He didn’t look at you as he spoke, “Slightly worried about what this kid will be born into. If I’ll be good enough for them.”

You couldn't help but empathize with him. It was the same reaction you felt when Ridley asked you to be Sadie's godmother.

"If it's worth anything, you're great with Sadie. This child is so lucky to have you looking out for them."

While Jake gave you a soft smile, he didn’t reply, staring down at his lap for a few seconds before looking up and beyond the camera. You could tell he was getting lost in his own head, worrying about the future. The look on his face was one you caught yourself making in the mirror most mornings while thinking about Sadie. 

Suddenly, he sighed, looking back at the screen. “For once, I’m going to say enough about me.”

You giggled at him. “Hangman not wanting to talk about himself, what is the world coming to?!” 

He smiled at you. “How is the bug?” 

“She’s not happy you guys won’t be home for Christmas,” you told him. “But better.” 

“I got your letters. And her polaroids. What was she doing around an F-14?” 

You had taken Sadie to the nearby Warplane museum in an attempt to make up for her missing her aunt and uncles, hoping it might bring her closer to them. An out-of-commission F-14 had been on display, and Sadie just had to get her picture taken in front of it. She had put herself somewhat out of the frame of the camera, leaning into the shot while holding up a peace sign and sticking her tongue out with a cheeky grin. 

It was one of the first photos she had put into the pile, insistent it went to Jake. You managed to catch her writing on the back, ‘Come home soon.’ 

“She really wanted to send you that one,” you laughed. “We went to the warplane museum, thinking it might bring her closer to you guys.” 

“The both of you need to come with me next time. Get the full experience, history, you name it.” 

You couldn’t help the slow grin, your eyes widening as you exclaimed, “I knew it! Jake Seresin, you are a geek about planes!” 

You watched as he leaned closer to his camera, eyebrow raised. “And here I recall somebody saying everyone was passionate about something? Flying is practically my personality?”

“Yeah, but not the tall, good-looking Naval officer who was probably a frat boy in school geeking out over planes.” 

He didn’t hesitate. “So you think I’m good-looking?” 

“I said good-looking, not handsome,” you shot back. “Your ego couldn’t handle it.” 

“You called me handsome before.” 

“I was being rhetorical, you were trying to get into my pants, calling me the ‘most beautiful girl in the bar.’” you teased him. 

“I wasn’t lying.” 

It took you a few seconds to register what he said. His tone was serious, leaving no room for you to come up with a witty comeback, some smart retort without sounding down on yourself. You had called him a liar then. You certainly couldn’t call him one now. 

You didn’t think you were, maybe average and plain. A person who liked cozy sweaters and fuzzy socks. Who’d rather spend time curled up with a book than spend free nights out having a social life, going to a bar or partying with friends.

Everything you assumed was not Jake’s type. 

Ridley would know what to say in situations like this, you thought, what to make of him telling you something like this from the other side of the world through a computer. 

“What else did she send you?” you asked, changing the subject. “She didn’t let me see.” 

He shrugged. “Just a few she had taken from the hike. There’s one of her and I from the picnic. I have it in my locker.” 

“You mean when you stole her Sour Keys.” 

There was no shame in his grin. “So worth it.” 

You snickered, Jake joining you. The conversation had its natural pause, and the silence wasn’t awkward. Looking at Jake through a screen, you felt like you had permission to stare at him. Whether it was time apart, the distance, or longing. Or the fact you told Jake something so private about yourself, and he didn’t go running. 

It was easier to allow yourself this moment, to entertain the possibility that maybe there was something more than the friendship you were trying to build with him before the reality set in, and you reminded yourself just why Jake was so far out of your league. Why you were just imagining things that weren’t really there. 

But looking at his face, his eyes uneasy, you knew what he would ask next. 

“Any news with the review?” 

You shook your head, eyes fixing on your keyboard. “I called. They said maybe after the holidays.” 

“Liz, it's going to be fine.” 

“You don’t know that, Jake,” you said quietly, looking back up at the screen. “I still don’t know who put in the request. I haven’t been able to figure it out. Even if everything turns out fine, what’s not to say something else is going to happen?” 

He paused. “Would it make you feel better if you knew?” 

“Obviously, but the list is either short or non-existent.” 

“Then we will figure out who when we come home.” 

“Jake, you don’t...” 

He interrupted you, his tone firm. “It’s Sadie.” 

He was right. It was about Sadie. It was her future, knowing whether she’d be safe with you or without. You needed to know what, or who, you were dealing with. 

“Okay,” you finally said. “If you don’t mind.” 

He shook his head, then grinned. “Besides, the three of us have some celebrating to do when we get back.” 

You couldn’t help yourself, “Just the three of us?” 

His eyes lit up. “If that’s what you want.” 

There weren't many opportunities in your life for you to say 'Fuck it' every once in a while. Ridley told you to fuck it when she submitted your college applications and told you to move to San Diego. When the both of you decided enough was enough and move halfway across the country to escape your lives in the aftermath of your mother passing away.

But Sadie's words rang harder than any warning the Daggers, or Penny, could have given you. Jake did deserve people in his life who cared about him. He deserved a family that cared. And the fact Rooster, Nat, and even a small part of Coyote at Sadie's soccer game that day couldn't even recognize that... it filled you with anger.

Ridley's voice was in your head, screaming Jake needs you, Lizzie. Fuck what they think.

If some of his team couldn't do that for him, if his own family couldn't, you and Sadie would.

"I do." and then, "You might have a surprise from Sadie when you get back. We miss you."

There was a shout from somewhere in the background, Interrupting Jake, causing him to turn towards the noise before looking back down at the screen, “I gotta go, darlin.” 

It was true you, you did miss him. And yet, while you were grateful for the minutes you got to speak with him, you still were left feeling like it wasn’t enough. 

“Be safe, Jake. Come home.” 

You caught Coyote’s voice just before the video cut off, not thinking much of it.  

“Yo, did you tell her about the photo in your cockpit?!”

----

It was a few weeks after your call with Jake you found the courage to start looking through some of Ridley’s things. You had no idea where it came from. The storage locker hadn’t been touched since you brought Sadie home - Rooster, Phoenix, and yourself having played a game of Tetris to shove everything in. 

You always had some excuse for not going through it. You were too tired. Other things took priority. You’d do it tomorrow. There wasn’t enough time. 

Really you should have called it for what it was. 

You simply weren’t ready. 

But with Sadie’s first Christmas without Ridley only a few weeks away, you needed to buck up and open that door. If not for you, for Sadie’s sake. 

You asked Alyssa to join you one day while Sadie and Will were at school. She was more than happy to provide the support, knowing how hard it was for you. Even as she followed you down the rows of lockers, the layout making you feel like you were in a prison cell, awaiting your sentence at the end of the hall, she was a welcome reminder you could do this. 

But you hesitated when you reached that yellow door, big bright numbers taunting you from their perch above. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Alyssa placed a hand on your shoulder. 

You shook your head. “Yes, I do. It’s time, even if it's something small.” 

Oh, you wished you could take those words back the moment you saw everything. It was overwhelming to reach the bottom of the roll-up door and pull it up, revealing the numerous boxes and garbage bags of your sister and Sadie’s things. It even smelled like her in there, the small traces of her floral perfume hitting your nose, making your stomach turn.

There in the back corner, you spied a box labelled ‘Sadie X-mas”. You zoned in on it like it was a lighthouse in a storm. Just the Christmas decorations, you thought, then you could get out of here and go home. 

But another box was stacked on top of it, way higher than it should have been, with various folders hanging precariously out of it. It wouldn’t be easy to get it out.

 You stepped between two boxes, weaving your way to the back of the locker. Something sharp caught on the laces of your shoe, yelping as you twisted backwards onto a garbage bag of clothing, arm flinging sideways, knocking the tower of boxes over. 

Alyssa shouted your name, charging forward to get to you in a last-ditch effort. Bracing yourself, you covered your head with your arms as boxes toppled into you.  It hurt, sharp corners and heavy objects hitting your stomach and arms in such a way you knew you’d bruise. 

Pushing boxes away, you could see her standing over you, pulling at loose objects that were pinning down your hips. The tension in her shoulders relaxed when she realized you were okay. 

“God, you weren’t kidding when you said you were a klutz,” she huffed. 

You rolled your eyes, holding out your hand.  “A little bit of help, please?” 

Alyssa pulled you up somewhat dangerously, your foot slipping on a piece of paper as you regained your balance. 

The contents of the boxes were scattered across the storage locker, mostly papers and random notes. You’d sooner leave than start the process of cleaning them up while having to rifle through the spaces between the boxes. But Alyssa was already making the effort, gathering whatever was closest to her and placing them in the overturned box nearby. 

Groaning, you forced yourself to collect what you could, only searching for specs of white in your peripheral vision, not the words on said boxes or stopping to consider what might be in them. You were almost done, spying two more pieces of paper lying on top of another garbage bag shoved into the corner. 

Then Alyssa gasped. 

You looked up to see her holding a piece of paper from a notebook in both of her hands. The page looked like it had been folded over in such a way it appeared to be a letter.

“Lyssa? What’s wrong?” 

Wide-eyed, she looked up, holding it out to you.  “You need to read this. Seriously.” 

You reached out timidly, taking the paper from her as your eyes skimmed the page. You recognized the handwriting, though you couldn’t place where. The date in the upper corner was marked a few weeks before Ridley died, and you thought you saw Sadie’s name mentioned a few times, though it was difficult to make out. 

But as soon as you reached the bottom of the page, you shrieked, jolting and throwing the paper out of your hands. 

There, signed clear as day… 

Let me know.

Tyler. 

Tags:

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@emorychase @ereardon @dempy @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @daggerspare-standingby

@phantomxoxo @formulapierre @eli2447 @fulla02 @blckgrl-sunflower @mizzzpink

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Wickett ;)

Part 7 - Oh What a Night Coming Soon

[spiderrmax]

clyde, wendy, & jimmy + a parental friend

request: could I maybe request the same kind of reader [parental] but with Jimmy, Clyde and Wendy author's note: i used the same image. i have no shame. you know how annoying it is to find different images for each post? i don't know why i did that to myself

clyde donovan

A lot of his friends are kinda aggressive; he loves how chill it is with you!

You don’t make fun of him but still are funny. That’s awesome in his head

He brags about you so much to his gang.

“[Your name] cut me apple slices!”

“Last night, [your name] helped me with my homework. I’m going to ace this test.”

“[Your name] was cheering me on the entire game.”

All of Craig’s gang is kinda annoyed with him lol

He cried the first time you gave him something

It was a teddy bear you won at a fair. It was something you didn’t really care for, but thought he’d like, so you gave it to him.

You were so concerned when he started bawling.

You asked if he was okay, and he sniffled out a yes. You then asked if he’d like a hug, and he said yes again.

He squeezes you hard, hands gripping into your fabric. Your shirt is damp when he finally lets go, thanking you for the gift.

He got teary-eyed the next few times you gave him something, but now just hugs you as a thanks.

Any gift you give him is also shown off. He can’t help it! You’re so cool.

He really appreciates you! He waves at you everytime he sees you, and doesn’t care if others find it lame.

wendy testaburger

Is definitely used to more aggressive and detached affection. Her parents care for her, but more about her grades and her reputation. Her friends care for her, but those relationships are very flighty.

However, your presence in her life is very stable. She feels like she will always be able to go to you if she’s ever upset.

She doesn’t talk about you a lot, but will throw hands with anyone who insults you.

Doesn’t get how someone could insult you, and got in a fight with a fourth grader over it.  

You had to clean her wounds after it; you gave her a lecture that it’s not worth it, but also understand why she felt the need to fight.

You buy her bandaids with fun designs: hello kitty, disney, anything you think is cute

Love when you make her jewelry. Will wear it even if it clashes with her outfit.

Same thing if you sew! Any articles of clothing you make will get worn even if you’re the worst sewer in South Park

Always gets your input when she makes lists; if you’re a girl she invites you to her committee, if you’re not she makes you an “honorary girl”

She really values your opinion on those kinds of things, even if the list is best salad dressing.

Always goes to you when she has problems with Stan. Knows you’ll listen to all of her issues, and values any advice you can give.

jimmy valmer

Really values how sympathetic and understanding you are.

You don’t make his disability a big deal: you slow down when you’re walking with him, and mock his stutter.

Also really appreciates that you laugh at his jokes; you’re his number one fan!

You make an effort to show to every one of his shows.

He doesn’t say anything, but likes that he can always find you in his audience. If he gets nervous for any reason he’ll just look at you. 

He always gets your approval when he has a new joke! He tells you first, then the gang second

Was confused the first time you gave him a gift.

“Wha- what is it?”

You kinda just shrug, and it’s probably a toy, and say it reminded you of him.

It becomes his favorite to play with; it’s the only toy he also doesn’t share

You definitely get him those pun books for fun. You know it’s not original material but still think they can be funny.

[midwestmade29]

Surprise 🤭

To Anonymous: Your request was adorable! We all need some Christian Cage fluff in our lives. Thanks for sending it in 🖤 Word count: 779 Divider by: @saradika-graphics GIF credit: @cowboyshit

Original Anonymous Request:

I kinda need some Christian Cage fluff I'm missing him way too much.

can you please write an Story about Christian Cage and Fem Reader, where both are dating with an age gap, where Reader discovered that she's pregnant and tells him that he's going to be a dad which he's despite his age over the moon and he's saying that he already loves this little bean.., if possible can you add an little time skip to the day they found out the gender and it's an girl which he respond with "another little princess joins the family"

Disclaimers: Pregnancy is the only one this time. Read at your own discretion 🙂

You and Christian are over the moon about your unexpected surprise...

When you and Christian first started dating, your age gap never factored into anything. The both of you instantly fell head over heels for each other, while your friends and family supported your relationship wholeheartedly. You both shared similar interests and hobbies and you adjusted well to his professional wrestler lifestyle. His daughter adores you and you share the same feelings towards her, your relationship with her is something you cherish. Every now and then you and Christian talk about the future, sharing your hopes and thoughts on where each of you would like to be. Your ideas usually align up nicely, even when it comes to more serious topics like marriage and having children together. While marriage was still on the table, you both agreed that you are content with where your relationship is at right now. You are just enjoying your life together and living in the moment. Everything was going well until an unexpected surprise threw you for a loop, you found out you were pregnant! You hadn’t been feeling well for a while, so when your period was late, you knew you needed to take a test. The two pink lines you saw both surprised and excited you! At first you were nervous to tell Christian, but when you started picturing him holding a tiny little baby in his strong arms, it all went away.

You decided to decorate a baby onesie with a special design on it to tell Christian your big news! It didn’t take long to make, and it turned out just like you hoped it would. Once it was dry, you placed it in a gift box along with a tiny pair of baby shoes and a positive pregnancy test and topped it with a bow. Christian was due back home later in the evening, so that’s when you planned on giving him the present.

After Christian got settled in, the two of you were snuggled up together on the couch. He had gotten up to use the bathroom and when he came back, he noticed the gift box sitting in his spot next to you. “What’s this?” he asked with a smile. He picked it up and plopped down, giving the box a little shake. You chuckled at his puzzled expression and spoke shyly, “Just a little surprise I put together for you,”

 You watched him take the bow off and tear through the paper before pulling off the lid, your eyes were already glossing over. Christian pushed the tissue paper to the side and stared at the contents underneath it, his brain trying to register what his eyes were seeing. He pulled out the onesie first and read over the words you had written on it, “Father of the Year x2.” 

“Y-you’re…you’re pregnant?” Christian managed to stammer out. You couldn’t contain your smile as you nodded your head “yes.” He pulled out the tiny baby shoes next and then the pregnancy test, still not offering you any words. “Well, what are you thinking? Are you unhappy about it?” you asked a little sheepishly. Christian saw the worried look on your face and immediately spoke up, “Of course I’m happy! Just a little surprised, that’s all. A baby wasn’t something we had planned on right now, but it’s a blessing nonetheless! That little bean is a piece of me and a piece of you, how incredible is that?!”

Your pregnancy seemed like it was going by in the blink of an eye when you and Christian arrived at your 20-week doctor appointment. The two of you sat in the waiting room filling out paperwork until your name was called. Christian stood up first and extended his hand to you with a big smile on his face. “Ready to find out if we’re having a son or another daughter?” he asked sweetly. You laced your fingers with his and the two of you walked hand in hand back to the ultrasound room.

“Are you wanting to know the sex of your baby?” the ultrasound tech asked. “If not, you’ll want to look away until I’m finished with this part,”

Christian spoke up first, giving the ultrasound tech an enthusiastic “yes” which caused you and the tech to chuckle. “Alright, if you see where the cursor is on the monitor, you’ll be able to tell the gender. Congratulations mom and dad, it’s a girl!” You instantly covered your mouth with your hand in shock because you were convinced it was a boy, while Christian was beaming in the chair next to you. “We’re having a girl! Another little princess joins the family. She’s going to be beautiful just like her mother is…”

[moonlitempty]

“It’s our basic human right to be fuck-ups. This civilisation was founded on fuck-ups!”

And after roughly 3 weeks of waiting, hoping, and constant refreshing of the tracking page, here it is finally, I am able to hold it, and see it, and analyse every intricate little detail of its design, and its packaging. And it makes me feel somewhat fulfilled.

I honestly keep struggling to find the words for this caption, my thoughts are all over the place and it feels like no praise or fawning will suffice, no amount of love dumping will be nearly enough to describe how absolutely lovely this record is.

The World’s End is a film I was afraid I wouldn’t like, even when I was just getting into The Cornetto Trilogy and familiarising myself with everything around it, I could just TELL The World’s End was, not quite a black sheep, but the odd one out in the trilogy. I saw hordes and hordes of people rave over Shaun (rightfully), I saw thousand of dedicated followers of Fuzz (VERY rightfully), but at most I saw a couple hundred people campaigning for End to have more recognition. So when it came to finally watch it for the first time, I was honestly nervous and I vividly remember I had to keep pausing the movie over and over again whenever Gary said or did something dumb, I felt bad for him, he seemed enthusiastic and he longed for his old life with his friends and none of them even trusted him. So that set a very specific lens quite early on that I saw the whole movie throughout, and I think it actually helped me appreciate the movie from the get-go.

So I decided to put my big boy pants on, stop systematically pausing the movie, and sit through it, no more pauses or interruptions.

•“12 Historic Ale Houses!”

I quickly found myself enamoured with End, I loved the unapologetic and almost blatant Sci-Fi route of the film, after all, Sci-Fi in general is a genre I hardly consume, and it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that this film alone opened the doors of the genre to my once closed eyes. I grew to love the characters oddly quickly, my stand-outs obviously being Gary and Andy, but I also made room in my heart for Sam and Steven (the only survivors, ha!)

Also, it may have been the Blu-Ray doing its Blu-Ray thing but I thought the film looked PHENOMENAL, easily the most visually interesting film out of the Three, maybe it was also the use of more contemporary cameras and technology, it was an absolute treat to the eyes. The filmmaking and directing choices have been pointed out time and time again, Edgar Wright has the best directing style of any modern filmmaker.

But let’s get to the main subject, the soundtrack!

•The World’s End: Original Movie Score (Mondo Exclusive , Pressed on Crowning Glory Ale Vinyl)

This is a beautiful little record! It’s easily one of the prettiest in my entire collection, usually a splatter vinyl like this is pretty hit or miss, I’ve had my fair share of less than stellar records, but this one NAILED IT! I don’t know if you can tell from the pictures, but this record looks EXACTLY like a nice, cold, foamy and enriching pint of Ale, and the design of the centre labels is oddly satisfying, I lack the right words to describe it, but the entire film carries a sort of “vintage-ish” aesthetic in its graphic design and motifs, hopefully I’m making myself clear with that. It’s a mix of vintage and modern, if I had to describe it!

The record is very nice to the touch, it’s solid and quite heavyweight (which is a reassurance when it comes to vinyl), and it looks absolutely stunning when held up to the light. A detail I love is how the labels seem to slowly uncover the presence of The Network as they go on, by Side D the centre label makes it awfully clear that The Network is, a) a thing, and b) present everywhere in Newton Haven.

In the gimmick/fun little trinkets department, we have a small pamphlet! Styled as a tourist guide for the pubs in Newton, it features a full map of the town (the one Gary used to mark up the pubs), and the commentaries by both Edgar Wright and the composer Steven Price, these are frankly a treat to read and give so much more insight into not only the making of the score, but also the deeper meaning of the score, what Prince intended to transmit with the creative decisions he made while making and building the score, it makes listening to it a much more rewarding experience.

This will be forever one of my favourite items I’ve ever owned, period. Not favourite vinyl records, or movie memorabilia, items in general. And I feel immensely grateful to not only have it and hold it, but to also share it with everyone in a cohesive and engaging way. Writing this post has been an absolute privilege! Hopefully it is mildly decent and not just another one of my soliloquies.

If you got all the way here, you have my eternal gratitude and I love u mwah. here’s a cookie for your troubles 🍪

Let’s Boo-Boo.

[victimeyez]

Happy Birthday 🎂🥳🎁 (I also have a September birthday so I think that’s neat)

I think overall, the thing about p/v that keeps me hooked is the intensity of the whump. I’ve read other whump stories before and while what the characters go through in them is horrible, I’ve yet to find another character that goes through the kind of stuff Tommy does. The man’s life is just brutal, and as a avid horror fan I find that deeply compelling. I want him to one day get his final girl moment, even though I read early on that it’s probably not gonna happen.

I think the two whump moments that stand out the most for me so far are the meat hooks and the use of Agent Orange. The meat hooks scene was such a intense body horror moment it almost made me think about quitting, but I also couldn’t get it out of my head. I had to know what was gonna happen next to this poor dude. By contrast, the Agent Orange bit had me thinking to myself, “whelp Tommy and Caius better pray that stuff wasn’t real, otherwise their both dying of cancer lol”

Anyways I’ve rambled on enough. I hope you enjoy your birthday and that you get to do something fun with the people you love. (Tommy sure won’t lol)

Thank you, and happy birthday to you too!!!

Ooh, where to start. A few years ago, I discovered a writer online that wrote the most brutal content I had ever read. To this day, she makes my writing here look quite tame. We bonded over a mutual fandom that was difficult to find content for. One thing led to another, and I ended up helping write and edit her first original book.

I’’d never had someone before that I could talk to about enjoying really twisted stories. I was always admonished for a blossoming interest in horror by my mom, who believes horror is the work of the devil. It is still hard for me to share darker ideas. I get nervous about being judged for going too far, being too much of a freak. 

A big part of what made me decide to write Pro Vic with the design it has is that I wanted to be able to explore lots of different whump scenarios, without things getting too stale of the same things over and over. I have fun with Caius, but I can also explore whatever other forms I want to with clients in my own version of a monster-of-the-week formatting lol. Plus I can throw in extra time with Sam, or Rory, or Michelle, orrrrr whatever! As for the meat hooks and agent orange - Once again, I am sorry, and you are welcome lol. Can I blame Dead by Daylight and weirdly specific Vietnam War nightmares?

I love me a final girl! I actually have a shirt that says FINAL BOY in bloody letters lol. 

I have a long game in mind. Tommy is going through it – that’s not going to stop any time soon. But without wanting to say too much - Tommy has a future ahead of him where he plays a very different role...👀

I cannot tell you how much it blows my mind that people are actually reading this. I’m grateful for the readership, the notes, the tags, everything, I read them all a thousand times and lay on my bed kicking my feet while I write about it in my diary. Okay maybe not literally that, but mentally that is where I am. Getting to be the random person that wrote something you find compelling is the greatest badge of honor in my life. That’s not a joke. Sharing my creative passions has been the one thing I have known I wanted since I was three years old. When I was sitting on the floor of the kitchen, banging pots and pans together for drums and screaming my best “opera”.

[dib-thing-wannabe]

The Villain's Untold Moldings - Chapter One

next>>>

(Quickly, two things before y'all start reading this-

This doesn't mean that I'm quitting with my cu au content, I just needed to write this as it came to me at night and I have to share it with everyone else, so consider it more as a side project then anything else.

In this fanfic, Robot does not have his canon look, but instead has the Robot human (?) design made by @taxlthomas (Or @itsalldownhillfromherehoney because idk which to tag as they are the same person). This is something that I feel is important to mention as I don't think anyone could take it as seriously as I imagine it to be, so please check out their artwork before reading this if you don't know what it looks like. As I'm already tagging people, I'd also like to thank @genderlessjacky who helped me with the name of this fanfic!

Other than that, enjoy this!)

(Edit: I should mention that when I make more chapters, they will be featured on my pinned post, though I'm not tagging my pinned with the pj masks tags.)

Memory log 1 - Date: Sept. 7, 2005 - Time: 12:01

I turned on for the first time ever. I scanned the room I was in, standing on my charging pod, when the scan stopped as I laid my robotic eyes on a man. He had raven colored hair, fair skin, green eyes, and he was wearing a lab coat covered in oil. He seemed proud, yet tired.

"Hello, Robot. You may call me Mr. Mecano, or if you'd prefer, Master. I'm the one who made you!" He told me in a prideful tone.

"Hello, Master." I replied with, only having a monotone voice at the time.

He looked at me again, motioning me to follow him as he exits the room. I, of course, follow him. His house was much bigger than it looked from the charging pod, it was clear that he had the money to spend. I saw other robots around the place as I followed him, though they were much smaller than me and didn't do much.

We eventually made it to what is called a living room, with a large couch in the middle of it.

"Go ahead, sit down for a moment! I need to grab some people before I can tell you what your current purpose is!" Mr. Mecano told me, holding his hand towards the couch. I sat down on it as he exited the room.

After some time, I heard a female voice nearby. "Hunny, are you sure it's going to be safe? I mean, his body that you reused was originally made to harm any trespassers! Who knows how gentle he could get!" She spoke up.

"Dear, trust me, I have made the necessary adjustments to his physical body to be able to be as gentle as a mouse. And, before you even think about his coding, I took out anything that could harm someone who may be innocent!" He told her reassuringly.

She let out a soft sigh before telling him, "Okay, I believe you. I don't have any reason not to."

He walks back in with the woman trailing behind him, holding something wrapped in a blanket in her arms. The woman had long brown hair with a white streak in it, more tanned skin compared to Mr. Mecano yet it's still pale, blue eyes, and she was wearing a long nightgown, despite it being noon.

"Robot, this is my wife! You may call her Mrs. Mecano, or you may also call her Master!" He announced lovingly, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

"Hello Ma'am."

"... You know what, that works too!" He began walking towards me again, now with his wife in tow, as she is clearly nervous.

He gently grabs what's in her arms as he speaks in a soft yet energetic tone. "Now I can tell you what your purpose is!"

He walks closer to me until he is basically towering over me, as he begins to show me what's in the blanket.

"This is our son. His name is Romeo Mecano. He was born on August 31 of this year. You see, I need to continue to work so that my family and I can continue to live comfortably, but the baby still needs to be cared for, as my dear wife is having too many troubles recovering from his birth to safely take care of him without any assistance. Your job is to care for Romeo when neither of us can, and to make sure that whatever happens, he would never be harmed."

I nod my head as I looked closer at what was in the blanket. Sure enough, it was a baby. A sleeping baby with the same raven hair his father had, yet has the white streak in his hair that his mother passed down to him.

"Here, try and hold him! You're going to need to do it a lot anyway!" He said with a light in his eyes, as Mrs. Mecano bit her finger out of nervousness. I hold my arms out in what I had believed to be the correct way. He placed the child in my arms, and I just held my arms like that.

He chuckled before speaking again. "Robot, you are holding a small human being, not a platter! Don't be scared, gently bring him towards your chest more!"

After a moment of processing, I then held him similarly to how they held him. "Is this good, Master?"

"It's great! See, you just powered on, yet you're already learning all the necessities!" He cried out in a joyful manner, clearly more proud then ever.

He began conversing with his wife, but my memory doesn't remember their exact conversation, as I was paying full attention to Romeo at this point. I can only recall that Mr. Mecano was reassuring her that their son was safe in my hands and that he wouldn't ever make something that would hurt either one of them. I began to hold him in a way where he was facing me, my hands under his little armpits. After a few seconds, I held him near my chest, his tiny head resting on my shoulder as one of my hands gently cups it, and the other held his scrunched up body. My Master quickly took notice of this, and he only chuckled and said, "Yeah, he's going to be safe and sound."

The rest of the day was Mr. and Mrs. Mecano teaching me what to do during what situations, how to care for the child, how to care for wounds, ect. When Romeo finally woke up, he had icey blue eyes, though they told me that his eyes would darken overtime, but will most likely stay blue.

Memory log 7 - Date: Sept. 15, 2005 - Time: 20:21

A week has passed since I was first introduced to everything. Today I noticed that Mr. Mecano started acting strangely. Normally he works on other inventions and sells them, and tries to spend every spare second he could with either his wife, or if he's awake, Romeo. Meaning that I see him around ten to twenty times a day other then when he is in his workshop. Today though, I had only seen him once outside of his workshop, and it's already dark out. It was as if he was trying to avoid them today, especially his son, who he usually coddles every time he lays eyes on him.

As I was patrolling the house, something I normally do when not given a task to complete, Mrs. Mecano approached me.

"... Hey, Robot? Can you tell me something?" Her voice was filled with worries and woe's as she asked me this.

"Of course, Ma'am."

"Do you think that my husband has been acting... strange, today? I mean, I don't think that this is a bad thing, but I need a second opinion on it."

I stood silent for a moment, trying to find the words to tell her that I agree with her without her feeling anymore worried. "Yes Ma'am, I do. Though I believe it's nothing to worry about just yet. I saw that he didn't get as much sleep as he normally does last night, so there is a great chance that is what's causing him to act strangely."

".. Yeah, you're probably right. Though just in case, I'm going to talk to him about it. If Romeo wakes up, please watch him for me until I'm done."

This caught me off guard, as she doesn't like it when it's only me and Romeo together alone. I believe she's either starting to finally trust me, or she's too worried about her husband to think properly.

"Of course, Ma'am."

She let out a sigh of relief before speaking again.

"Thank you, Robot." She then began heading downstairs towards the workshop.

She didn't say a word to me as she went back to her bedroom two hours later, so I am guessing she wasn't able to get anything out of him. Romeo is growing rather fond of me, so I don't think he mind the fact that he had seen me more than he had seen his dad today.

Memory log 13 - Date: Sept. 21, 2005 - Time: 15:34

Mr. and Mrs. Mecano have been agruing for what has felt like non-stop today so far. After he started randomly distancing himself from his family, Mrs. Mecano has been trying to talk to him more and more about it, yet he's been practically pushing her away. This is what seems to be their first ever argument in their entire relationship. I began standing near the doorway of their bedroom, as the tention began rising between them.

"Oh my GOD, WHY WON'T YOU GET THE FUCK OFF MY BACK?! I AM WORKING MY ASS TO PROVIDE FOR EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE, AND THIS IS THE THANKS I GET FOR IT!?" His voiced boomed through the house.

"H-Hunny, please!! I'm not trying to be overbearing, I'm j-just getting worried! You have never acted like this before!!!" She yelled back, holding in tears as she tries to talk to him.

"OH, PLEASE! YOU ARE ALWAYS GETTING WORRIED ABOUT SOMETHING THAT I DO, EVEN WHEN I TELL YOU THAT EVERYTHING IS FINE, BUT NOOOOOO! SOMETHING IS TERRIBLY WRONG WITH EVERY SINGLE FUCKING THING I DO!!"

"SIMON!!" Her voice strained, now with tears rolling down her face. This is the first time I have ever heard her call him anything other than his nickname.

Now they are in a full on shouting match, throwing accusations at one another, from cheating to lying about their past. Clearly, this is turning into something much more serious than it once was.

Suddenly, I heard Romeo crying from his crib, so hesitantly, I go to tend for him while they continue to scream at one another.

I quickly go into his room and shut the door behind me, trying not to let him hear the yelling from his parents. Yes, he may be a baby who wouldn't have a clue what was happening, but that doesn't mean that it wouldn't effect him. Thankfully, they made his room soundproof, so he couldn't hear them at all as long as we stayed inside his nursery.

"Shhhhhhhh, shhhhhhhhh, hey, hey hey, it's okay, it's okay." I softly spoke to him, as I scooped him up into my arms. "Don't cry, don't cry, you are okay, you are going to be okay."

After a few minutes of shushing him and patting his back gently, he eventually stopped crying, but he clearly still wasn't happy. I held him up to my face level, and start mimicking his cooing noises that he normally makes when he's happy. After a few seconds, he starts making the noises back.

"Yaaay! There you go, now who's a happy boy? Who's a happy bouncing baby boy~?"

He started getting louder with his cooing as I did this, reaching his tiny hands to me.

"Yes, you are! You are just a happy boy!"

I stayed with Romeo for a few more hours in his room, taking care of him. He seems to have me as his favorite 'person' in this household, especially lately, where I have had to take sole care of him as his parents argue, like they have been for the past week. I only left him alone after around 15 minutes of him being asleep. It's now 20:57, and his parents seem to have finally stopped with their bickering and gone to bed.

Memory log 14 - Date: Sept. 22, 2005 - Time: 02:31

I woke up from my charging pod as my internal sensors started going off.

*DANGER! DANGER! DANGER! A PERSON IN THE PREMISES HAS BEEN GRAVELY INJURED!*

Quickly, I get off of the pod and start scanning the area for the person who had gotten hurt.

After a few minutes of scanning the area, I finally had found who it was. It was... Mrs. Mecano. She was laying at the bottom of the steps, bleeding out. She had been shot in the stomach.

As I walked up to her, about to try and stop the bleeding before I called an ambulance, she started talking in a strained and tired voice.

"D-don't.. help me y-yet-" She coughed between her words, blood spilling out of her throat. "G-get.. m-my son.."

"Romeo? You want me to get Romeo?"

"H-he-" she coughed again, now speaking in more urgency. "I fear.. that h-he is next..."

As I realized what she was talking about, I nodded my head and quickly began rushing to his nursery. Who could in their right mind go and shoot a child after shooting their mother? Especially a baby, who could have never done any wrong to any person ever. I gained sight of the nursery door, and it was wide open. Quickly, I ran over and looked inside. A figure was standing above the crib... with a gun. Pointing. At. Romeo.

*TARGET ACQUIRED*

My arm extended from the doorway to the figure, wrapping itself around his arm, making the gun in his hand now aim to the floor. Before I can think, I lifted the arm it was intangled in, and threw it from where it was standing to the railing behind me, causing a giant crack sound to be made. I looked at the figure, now behind me..

"... Master?"

He groaned before speaking, struggling to get up on his feet, using the almost broken railing to lift himself up.

"WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU DO THAT, YOU STUPID ROBOT?! DON'T YOU SEE THAT YOU'RE MASTER IS TRYING TO KILL THAT ANNOYING LITTLE SHI-"

Before he could finish his sentence, I covered his mouth from behind him, having a tight grip on his face as I silenced him. I began talking lowly and slowly, as if I was growling as I spoke.

"I did that because you told me to. You said that my purpose was to take care of Romeo when neither of you could, and to make sure that whatever happens, he would never be harmed. But you. You tried to kill him after almost killing your wife." I moved his head towards the downstairs, facing him to Mrs. Mecano's close to lifeless body. "I may not experience the same emotions or have the same 'morals' as humans do, but I am disappointed in your actions. You are the biggest monster that this town has probably ever seen."

I let go of him entirely, having his full body weight fall onto the railing.

"Now, if you can behave and control your emotions, I'll go and make sure that you didn't hurt your child over a silly argument that wasn't even involving him."

I walk over to the crib and look down. There he is... the sweet baby boy, safe and sound, just sleeping. Unaware of the event that just occurred.

Now that I know that he isn't hurt, I can now call an ambulance and the police for Mrs. Mecano-

*BAM*

The sound of a gunshot going off filled the homes silence, and soon after, Romeo began crying, having woken up by the sudden noise and getting scared. I turned around to face the man with the gun, and-

... he shot himself. His body is laying on the ground, now lifeless. He must have realized what he had done, and what he was about to do next, and out of sudden grief and shock, he shot his brains out.

Okay, okay, there is no way they can be able to save him, but Mrs. Mecano still has potential to be saved. I can still call the ambulance for her, and then everything else will be fine-

"Sorry, your call wasn't able to reach the person you were trying to contact, please check your connection or try dialing a different number-"

"What?? Why would I not be able to call 911?"

I redialed the number, thinking it had to be some sort of mistake.

"Sorry, your call wasn't able to reach the person you were trying to contact, please check your connection or try dialing a different number-"

"Come on!!"

I check outside of the window, and there is no lights on. Anywhere. Not in the streets, not in anyone's windows, no where were lights on. Then I remembered something that made everything click.

They turned the cities power off. They turned it off because the wires connected to everything were getting faulty and too dangerous to not replace. There was a city wide announcement about it a few days ago, and Mr. Mecano knew that. He knew that, and that's why he shot himself. Because he shot his wife, the love of his existence, and there was nothing no one could do to save her.

I realized that Romeo was still crying heavily, with his poor little voice going hoarse. I quickly scooped him up again, and held him close.

I whispered quietly to him, trying to calm him down. "Shhhhhhhh, shhhhh, it's okay, you're okay, you are going to be fine.. I'll make sure of it..."

I headed downstairs towards my now late Masters workshop with Romeo in my arms, desperate to find something, anything, that could help me out with this situation. As I opened the door, my sensors started going off again.

*DANGER! DANGER! DANGER! TOXIC FUMES IN THE AIR! DANGEROUS TO HUMANS AND ANIMALS!*

I quickly closed the door to the workshop, backing away from it as I held Romeo closer to my chest. He wasn't acting like this because he was stressed, or tired, or covering up for something else. He was poisoned while in his workshop. A gas leak broke out and he didn't realize it until it was too late.

I ran out of the house, trying not to get Romeo harmed with the gases as well, because they were bound to spread to the rest of the house overtime. I ran out to the backyard, where I found the ship. The flying ship Mr. Mecano made in case of an 'emergency'. It was to live in, and it could go anywhere in the world given enough power. Thankfully, it had full power and it wasn't going to run out of it for at least twenty years. I board it with Romeo still in my arms, a little fussy but much better than before. I didn't start flying it, as there wasn't a place where Romeo can rest in it. I sat down on the couch in what I believe was the living room of the machine.

What do I do? It's not like I know how to take care of children older than three years old, and I still need a charging pod, yet I don't detect one in here. He can't go back in there, there's too many dangers for a baby to live in there. What to do, what to do...

I held him close to me still, as he fell asleep on my chest.

... I can worry about that tomorrow, I have plenty of power to last through the night.

Memory log 3,663 - Date: Sept. 19, 2015 - Time: 01:42

I was sitting down on the couch, in the living room of the flying machine, charging. When suddenly, I heard a slam from the metal door connected to the living room.

Romeo walked through it, mumbling to himself.

"Stupid PJ masks, ruining my plans for no reason other than 'beINg GoOd'! UUUGH!!"

"Still having trouble figuring out a new plan, Master?"

"No!.. well, yeah. But come on!! It was my greatest plan yet! But noooo! Those PJ Masks need to stop it! AAAAGH, I HATE THEM, I HATE THEM, I HATE THEM!!" He screamed out, stomping his feet out of frustration.

"I know, I know. Want a hug to let all your frustrations out?" I told him, holding out an arm to him.

Romeo scoffs before speaking in an annoyed tone. "No! What am I, a baby?!"

I continue to hold my arm out to him, closing my eyes. After a few seconds of silence, he quickly crawled into my arms, and begins to reach his arms out to me.

I chuckled softly before picking him up higher. "Thought so, Master. C'mere."

"Quiet, Robot.." He whispered in an embarrassed voice.

I placed him on my chest, where his head rested on my shoulder. He hugged me back, letting out a soft sigh as he let his full body weight on me. I caressed the back of his head and ran my fingers through his hair as I begin to hum.

After a few minutes, Romeo is fast asleep on me, fully relaxed.

To think that you were able to fit in my hands at one point, yet now, doing the same thing that I did when I first met you, you've truly gotten so much bigger..