#Love how they’re side by side right now

[lilianne-tarot]

PICK A CARD: Which Artist Wrote Your Future Spouse? ✮⋆˙

I. II. III.

˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁ ˖

How to Pick Your Pile: Take a deep breath, clear your mind, and look at the images below. Which one pulls you in the most? Trust your gut! Once you choose the image, The number below your chosen image is your pile. If more than one catches your eye, that just means there’s extra tea for you—go ahead and read both!

For personal paid tarot reading click here!

˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁ ˖

♬⋆.˚Pile l

Ooooh, okay, let’s get into this. You pulled The Magician, Page of Wands, and Ten of Swords—and lemme just say, this is already giving "main character energy meets redemption arc with a spicy twist". Like, your future spouse’s vibe is bold, restless, charmingly reckless at times, but also carrying some deep emotional baggage. So now, let’s spill the tea on which two singers could’ve written their essence into existence.This person has a very "put-together" look, almost effortlessly charismatic and stylish. they might look younger than their actual age or just have that playful, adventurous glow. (seriously, you’ll catch yourself staring for too long)

The Singers:

1. Bruno Mars – Because tell me why this person screams "Grenade" and "Talking to the Moon" energy while also somehow being the embodiment of "24K Magic"? Like, The Magician + Page of Wands together? This is someone who can literally manifest whatever they want and also a very smooth talker😉

2. Shawn Mendes – WELL I TOLD YOU the tortured yet idealistic lover-boy energy is STRONG. This person is the type to run headfirst into love, say all the right things, and make your heart melt, but (and it’s a big BUT) they also struggle with self-doubt and the fear of not being enough because of their bad past perhaps. They have that youthful, adventurous spirit, probably love travel or trying new things, and are always looking for their "great love story" moment.

What This Says About Their Personality:

this person is a natural at commanding attention. They know how to use their charm, words, and presence to get what they want (lowkey, they probably flirt without realizing it—you might have to tell them to chill sometimes. BABY, they love with their whole chest (WHY DOES THIS PERSON SOUND LIKE A KDRAMA 2ND MALE LEAD😭). But the downside? They might have a history of falling for the wrong people or giving their all too quickly, leading to major emotional crashes. Although This person has had their fair share of heartbreaks or betrayals, but instead of staying down, they come back stronger. One thing about them which i see is, They HATR feeling stuck. Whether it's their career, love life, or personal growth, they need movement. Stagnation = death to them. Tbh, they might have commitment issues at first, not because they don’t love deeply, but because they fear getting stuck in the wrong thing again. They believe in deep, soulful connections, but they’re also witty, a bit cheeky, and have a playful side.

Overall they have that mix of "boy-next-door but also lowkey a heartbreaker." Like they could be the flirty lead in a rom-com but also have that deep, emotional intensity. If they walk into a room, you’d definitely notice them, even if they’re not trying to stand out.

For personal paid tarot reading click here!

˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁ ˖

⟡ ݁₊ .Pile ll

OHHH, okay, i should say this, this spread is givinga "rich daddy aesthetic but also a secret softie"—and I am OBSESSED. This person is so layered, so multi-dimensional that you’re not just getting a future spouse, babe—you’re getting an experience😭. Now, let’s talk about singers.

The Singers:

1. Lana Del Rey – LISTEN. The High Priestess + The World combo SCREAMS "mysterious, poetic, and possibly on a higher spiritual plane than the rest of us." Your future spouse embody a WHOLE DAMN aesthetic. They have depth and an "I know something you don’t" energy that makes people naturally drawn to them. But oh, honey—this is someone who isn’t just vibing in They give off a "tragically beautiful but also rich and successful" vibe. SO LANA CODED.

Althtough i feel like this person has that hardcore LANA aesthetic and i wasn’t going for any other singer for this pile but i am also hearing hoizer???? Cuz look, This is the type of person who might have everything—money, status, power—but they’re still searching for something deeper, and if that ain’t this spread’s energy, I don’t know what is.

What This Says About Their Personality:

This person does NOT spill their secrets easily. They’re the type to just stare at you for five seconds, and you feel like they know all your past lives. It’s giving "intimidatingly intuitive," like you can’t lie to them even if you tried. Probably has a strong work ethic, maybe even runs their own business or is at the top of their field. But here’s the thing—they’re not flashy. They’re rich in a "quiet luxury" way rather than a "LOOK AT MY GOLD CHAIN" way. (Omg i feel like i am writing a wattpad fanfic😭) . they’ve been through enough life experiences to be WISE AS HELL. So that means, ther standards? High. This isn’t someone who jumps into relationships impulsively—they observe, and they only commit when it’s real. This person doesn’t do loud, over-the-top gestures Their love language is probably acts of service and deep conversations over wine while jazz plays in the background. They have a very ‘If You Know, You Know’ Aesthetic (lana reference again💅) They have this untouchable aura. Not everyone gets to see their soft, romantic side, but the few who do? Game over. People are either intimidated by them or completely mesmerized.

So overall, They might seem reserved or intimidating at first, but once they let you in, you’ll realize they’re the kind of person who loves profoundly, protects fiercely, and builds an empire while contemplating the universe. Good luck handling this one, bestie. They’re not for the weak.😀

For personal paid tarot reading click here!

˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁ ˖

✶⋆.˚Pile III

Your future spouse isn’t just built different—they’re built for the grind, the patience, and the long game. This is someone who knows struggle, doesn’t quit easily, and is out here crafting their legacy.

The singers:

1. Taylor Swift – I mean, COME ON. The Nine of Wands + 7 & 8 of Pentacles? This is someone who has been through battles, faced major setbacks, and STILL got back up every time. Your future spouse has that same relentless work ethic—they’re not the type to sit back and wait for things to happen; they MAKE them happen, even if it takes years. This person has had doubts, failures, maybe even moments where they felt like giving up—but they’re still here, still pushing, still thriving.

2. The Weeknd – Okay, hear me out. This person is obsessed with mastery. They aren’t just working hard for the sake of it—they want to be THE BEST at what they do. This energy is very ‘work now, enjoy later’—like they probably spent their younger years hustling, learning, and leveling up, while other people were out partying. They have discipline, ambition, and an almost obsessive drive to perfect their skills.

What This Says About Their Personality:

This person has been through hell, taken hits, and STILL keeps going. They’ve probably had moments of exhaustion, burnout, or self-doubt, but instead of quitting, they just rest, re-strategize, and come back even stronger. They’re like that one character in a movie who’s bruised, bleeding, and still smirking like ‘That all you got?’ Babe, this person is MARRIED to their work. Like, actually(you’re the third wheel) . They probably live and breathe their career or passion. Late nights, early mornings, constantly improving, never satisfied— this is someone who values progress over comfort. (Have they ever heard of a vacation? Probably not.) So by this you just know, if they are going on dates with you, giving their time to you, you’re the ONE FOR THEM🫠. This person doesn’t half-ass anything. If they’re going to do it, they’re going to do it RIGHT. They have high standards for themselves and expect the same from others. Translation: If you’re slacking, they will side-eye you.

I also see, your future spouse is strategic as hell. They’re not impulsive or reckless—they think ahead, invest wisely, and understand that real success takes TIME. (Financially stable king/queen? Love that for you.) So when they propose you, just know each of their actions were planned weeks before LOL.

For personal paid tarot reading click here!

˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁ ˖

Thank you so much for reading till here! I hope my reading resonated with you and you had a good time reading it! Let me know what pile did you choose and i love hearing your feedbacks of my readings♡

Note: tarot cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not predict the future in a fixed way. this is a general reading so take what resonates!

[4drianaaaa]

Rewarded :: Hamzahthefantastic x reader

⚠️: smut + fem reader

wrd count: 973

| You jumped out of your seat as you saw Hamzah’s sweaty arm lift as they announced his victory. Sweat radiated off his body as he accepted his victory as he was aching everywhere as sweat covered his swole body. You and his whole family jumped and cheered in celebration. After a memorable moment between him and Martin and an interview with their fans you were sitting in his office watching from your phone due to you leaving early.

He knocked on the door as he came in knowing you were in they’re. His soft grin appeared on his lips as you jumped up and wrapped your arms around his neck that was still hot.

“Congrats Hamzah! I love you! You did so good babe!” Your embrace made him groan a little as he squeezed your waist. Pulling off, you sat him down near a office chair,

“I’m sorry babe, did i hurt you?” You asked worried as he shook his head pulling you down on his lap as you began rubbing and messaging his tense shoulders.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” You questioned your tired boyfriend as he shook his head. “M’just very sore right now honey. It’s just my arms though” he sighed. “I can help you with that maybe?” You smirked as your hands rolled around his shoulders and biceps. Since those months and months of training you noticed how strong he was getting. The way his biceps would be there without even flexing or how his abs we’re appearing more then ever You’ve always wanted to tell him but you never wanted to get in the way of anything. Right now, it seemed like your only chance. You kissed his forehead as his eyes were shut in tiredness.

“you were so good out there” you whispered as you kissed his jawline as he rubbed your thigh closer to your core. “All for you y/n” he opened his eyes as he cupped your face grabbing your cheek placing his lips on yours. He groaned in ache but need as your knees shifted apart fully sitting on his lap. He slowly began grinding every so lightly as you couldn’t help but part your lips from him,

“No, let me soothe you baby” you got up from his lap as you were now on your knees in between his legs as his finger traced your jawline. “Let me relieve you Hamzah” the sentence made his skin crawl and his already erect member Twitch from you already on his lap.

“Fuck baby I love the way you talk like that” he muttered as his member sprung from his shorts. You pumped his hardened cock as he grunted gripping on the sides of the chair as your warm yet wet lips met his cock as he threw his head back in pleasure

“fuck fuck fuck” he whined as you slopped all over his cock as his pre-cum mixed with your spit made his member twitch in your mouth.

“fuck y/n, your so good to me” he bucked his hips as you gagged a bit.

“Fuck we better not get caught” you bit your lip as his finger signaled ‘shh’ on his mouth.

You bopped your head up and all the way down on his long member sending pools of pleasure over him, drowning in his lust.

“baby I can’t!” He whined as a loud popping noise was made from your mouth. “I need you on me please!” He pleaded with a bead of sweat falling from his forehead as you crawled on top of him.

Your core one layer away from the contact of his cock as his hands moved all over your body. His thumb rubbed your covered clit as you moaned from your mouth to his. His thumb pressing down on your clit receiving a thrust from you. You impatiently slid your panties to the side of your heat as sliding his long girth inside of you. Seeing stars, you hid behind his ear as you moaned right into his eardrums as his nails were pierced into you

“Fuck I haven’t been able to do this in forever- fuck y/n!” He stuttered as you placed your hands on his shoulders sitting up, “shh just relax” you sat on top of his cock as you slowly moved up and down from his cock as he gripped your beasts throwing his head back as you did works on his cock. Small whispers were heard from his mouth as you picked up speed.

“Shit, you’re so fucking gorgeous y/n! God-“ he panted as he fought the soreness and pleasure of his body. “You feel so fucking good- ngh-“

Rapidly skin slapping was heard from inside the room as him bucking his hips helped you find your g-spot. His hands were firmly held on to your waist as your hands tugged on to his ‘fashion nova’ hoodie.

“My. God. Baby!” He panted as he took a breath between words as his mouth sucked on your nipples sending chills through your arms. His tongue circled around your sensitive tits as you loudly moaned, your thrusts became sloppier but slower as you felt your self coming up.

“Fuck Hamzah! M’close-“ you whined loudly.

“Me too baby!” He replied as he took all his force thrusting into you harder as your body shook in pleasure coming all over his cock as he moaned nipping at your neck and kissing your lips again. Your hips melted onto him as he came into you, filling you in his cum. He’s missed you very much. He missed how badly you’d squirm under him.

“Fuckkk!” He moaned as he rubbed your back, “your so fucking good baby, I did it all for your baby.” He added kissing your forehead as he rubbed your back.

You both got dressed as you made your way back to your shared house with a victory and more energy in stored for tonight. |

-

(hey yall, i hope you guys enjoyed this fic coz it was very rushed i just very much wanted it posted asap to feed my baby birds (you guys 🫰) + this isn’t spelled check so sorry for any errors!)

[wendichester]

⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃⋆ 'til death do us part,

summary. you catch a pattern at a couple's retreat and have to go understand. cue in sam's new (fake) wife!

pairing. sam winchester x reader ; fake couple

wordcount. 694

"You ready?"

Sam’s voice is smooth, deep, warm like honey. You nearly roll your eyes, but instead, you lace your fingers with his and plaster on your best adoring-wife smile.

"Of course, darling," you purr, giving his hand a little squeeze for effect.

The ruse is simple enough: a small-town cult disguised as a religious retreat, luring in young married couples for “spiritual renewal.” The catch? None of them ever leave.

So here you are, hand-in-hand with Sam Winchester, wearing a simple gold band on your finger that’s heavier than it should be.

The woman at the check-in table beams at you both, her gaze flicking to your joined hands. "Such a beautiful couple," she says. "How long have you been married?"

Sam barely hesitates. "Three years," he says easily. "Met in college. Love at first sight."

You feel your cheeks warm. You hadn’t rehearsed that part.

The woman sighs dreamily. "How wonderful. Well, we’ll get you both settled in. We encourage closeness, so no separate rooms here. Just you, your spouse, and the universe binding your souls together."

Oh, fantastic.

Sam keeps up the act flawlessly, rubbing slow circles against the back of your hand with his thumb as you follow her down a candlelit hall. Your fake honeymoon suite is small but cozy, with soft lighting and a single bed in the center.

The door shuts behind you, leaving you alone with Sam and the inescapable tension crackling in the air.

"Three years, huh?" you tease, slipping off your shoes.

He shrugs, tugging at the collar of his shirt. "Seemed believable."

"You got a whole love story planned out?"

Sam smirks. "I could come up with one if you want."

You roll your eyes and flop onto the bed, feeling the mattress dip slightly under your weight. "Nah. I think I like this arranged marriage thing we’ve got going on."

Sam chuckles, running a hand through his hair. He’s too comfortable, too good at this. You should be focusing on the case, not on how right his last name looks on your fake I.D.

You clear your throat. "So, what’s the plan?"

"Figure out what they’re really doing here, take down the bad guys, save the day," Sam says. "Same as always."

"With a side of marital bliss," you add dryly.

Sam tilts his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. "If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you like calling me your husband."

You smirk. "If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you like it."

He doesn’t answer right away. Just watches you, something unreadable behind those sharp hazel eyes.

For a second, the whole act slips into something dangerously real.

"Maybe I do," he finally says, voice quieter now.

Your stomach flips.

You should say something snarky, make a joke, something, but your mouth is suddenly dry, and Sam is still looking at you like that.

Like maybe pretending doesn’t feel so much like such a burden.

The case should be your first priority. The weird chanting you heard earlier, the way the other couples here seem too happy, the fact that you might be in real danger if you don’t figure out what’s going on.

But all you can focus on is the way Sam’s fingers brush against yours when he leans down, resting his weight on his hands beside you.

"Maybe we should get some sleep," he murmurs, his voice softer now, heavier.

You nod, pulse thrumming in your throat.

You don’t move. Neither does he.

The space between you crackles with something unsaid, something waiting.

But Sam pulls back first, shaking his head like he’s clearing a thought from his mind. "Big day tomorrow."

"Right," you say quickly, swinging your legs onto the bed and yanking the covers up.

A beat of silence.

Then Sam reaches over and turns off the light.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling, hyper-aware of every breath he takes beside you. Of the warmth of his body inches away.

Of the fact that you’re still wearing his last name.

And that maybe he was right and you like calling him your husband. That you wouldn’t mind keeping his last name.

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[not-neverland06]

ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏʏ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴅᴏᴏʀ

͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝖲𝗍𝗎 𝖬𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗋 x fem!reader

╔═ A/N ═╗ Based on this request. I apologize if I got the characterization wrong. I just feel like the darker side to his character is never properly explored. As goofy as he was, he was also a serial killer lmao

✬ Summary ✬ Stu's your best friend, you know him as well as you know yourself. At least you thought so. A snoop through his closet leads to a terrifying discovery. Now, everywhere you turn, that haunting mask is right there waiting.

“God,” you toss the remote on the cushion beside you. It bounces off the oversized couch and flops to the floor. “There’s nothing on TV,” you lament, draping yourself dramatically over the cushions. 

Stu snickers and kicks his legs over the arms of his chair, shrugging with a smug look. “I told you we should have stopped by the video store.” His gaze drifts back toward the TV, grimacing at the obnoxiously loud MTV episode you stopped on. 

“Hell no, Randy’s working tonight,” you scold, sharp gaze snapping toward him. He’s got a stupid grin on his face, clearly having decided that his form of entertainment tonight is going to be pissing you off. “I don’t feel like having him critique me for an hour on my poor taste in movies.”

He snorts and reaches to take a large handful out of the popcorn on the coffee table between you. “Maybe if you didn’t just rent stupid chick flicks all the time, he wouldn’t.” 

Stu doesn’t have time to duck as you chuck one of his mom’s overpriced throw pillows at him. “Don’t act like you don’t love Pretty in Pink.” The pillow knocks the popcorn out of his hand, scattering it across the ornate rug Mrs. Macher bought last week. If she saw the state you’d gotten the house in this weekend, that ever-pulsing vein in her head would burst. As it is, they’re never actually at the house, it’s an oasis for practically half the school during the weekends Stu decides to throw a party. 

For the first time in a while, though, it’s just you and Stu. No one else is here to rile him up or force him to put on a show. He’s at his calmest when it’s just the two of you. Which, honestly, doesn’t mean much for him, but still. 

“I do not,” he objects, stretching out his lanky body and getting to his feet. 

You roll your head lazily to face him, giving him a knowing smirk. “Billy isn’t here, Stu. You don’t have to lie,” you assure him, holding out your arms as he stops in front of you. You already know what he wants, he’s got that specific gleam in his eye as he smiles down at you. 

“I mean,” he shrugs, “it’s not bad,” he concedes. Without another word, he throws himself on top of you, even prepared for it, you still feel the breath rush out in one hefty wheeze. Another thing you don’t see as much when others are around, just how goddamn clingy he is. 

Sure, with his multitude of girlfriends, he’s touchy. But this is something different entirely. He clings to you like he would burrow into your skin if he could. He’s been that way since you guys were kids. While the feeling of others touching you might set you on edge, Stu fits against you like your missing piece. 

Hands drifting up to play with his hair, you settle yourself against the cushions while he goes back to channel surfing, pleased to have you as his pillow. 

The TV drones on, a dull buzz in the background now that Stu has the volume down. With his head practically buried between your boobs and your legs wrapped around his waist, you snicker. 

Frowning, he props his chin on your chest, staring up at you. “What?” He demands, hating to be left out of a joke. 

“Nothing,” you shrug as much as you can with him steadily pancaking you. “Just wondering what your girlfriend would think of us like this.”

“Oh,” he sets his head back down and places your hands back on his head to continue playing with his hair. “We broke up,” he tells you, like it means absolutely nothing. 

“Stu!” You slap his shoulder, and he winces dramatically. As if you could ever do real damage to him. 

“Ow!” He whines, bracketing himself up on his elbows so he can look down at you. “What’s your problem tonight?”

His hips are still lazily pressed against you, pressure increasing the longer he hovers above you. Swallowing thickly, you try to ignore the flush spreading through you. “You didn’t tell me you guys broke up.”

He rolls his eyes, glaring down at you. “I just did,” he points out sarcastically. You swat at his shoulder again, but this time, he catches your hand in his, lacing your fingers together with a smug grin as he keeps you trapped. 

“You’re collecting these girls like they’re trading cards.” Despite his tight grip, you manage to slip out slightly from under him and prop yourself against the arm of the couch. “I don’t even remember the last one’s name.”

His face goes slack, lips parting as you see the cogs in his brain turning. He laughs and glances back at you with a dismissive shrug. “Neither do I. I just remember the tits.”

“Ugh,” you yank your hand out of his, ignoring his petulant frown. “You’re absolutely disgusting. What’s the point of even dating them?”

He slinks back against the other end of the couch. “I just said why,” he points to your chest with a grin, and you reflexively cross your arms. Stu tips his head back, dangling it over the edge as he stares up at the ceiling with a forlorn sigh. “I don’t get it,” he tosses his hands up, and you already know where this is going. 

Head tipped back up, he narrows his eyes at you, “I don’t know why we don’t just date.”

You give him a deadpan look, arms still tight around your chest. “Dude,” you chide, “after what you just told me. Seriously?” When you were younger, him saying this used to set you alight. You’d get all dreamy-eyed, imagining what it would be like to be Stu’s girlfriend. Of course, you’d taken too long thinking about it, and by then, he’d already found a different girl to set his sights on. It had broken your heart, and their relationship had barely even lasted a week. 

By now, you know better than to take anything he says seriously. Everything’s just one big joke to him. He’s so fickle you can’t trust that he would actually put effort into anything more blooming between you. You seem to be the only girl in his life that he actually thinks of as a person, going on a few dates with him isn’t worth screwing that up. Besides that, you’re not going to ruin the only friendship you’ve ever had that’s lasted more than two months. 

Stu opens his mouth like he wants to say anything, but it snaps shut a moment later. His face sets into a glower, and you worry for a moment that you might have actually hurt his feelings. You’ve always thought the suggestion was just a sort of inside joke between the two of you. Though, he has been bringing it up more and more lately. 

Your stomach flips unpleasantly, heart aching with guilt. It doesn’t last long, the feeling always remains fleeting. You’ve conditioned yourself for years to dismiss anything that might actually encourage you to pursue something with Stu. You love him, but you two would just be a spark waiting to light up. 

“You’re staying the night, right?” Stu changes the subject, picking up the remote once more and not meeting your eye. Your lips part, and he cuts a glare toward you, “No girlfriend,” he stops you before you can even say anything. Your brows furrow, and he looks back to the TV. “No sleepovers if I’m dating,” he mocks the pitch of your voice, reminding you of the rule you'd enforced so long ago. Your lips fall in a flat, irritated line at his imitation of you. 

“No girlfriend,” he reminds you, feigning indifference even though you can see right through him. Your plan was to go home, but you know him well enough by now. The set of his jaw, the stubborn way he won’t look at you, there’s no actual choice. You’re staying.

“Yeah,” you acquiesce with a low huff. “I’ll need to borrow some clothes.”

“You know where they are,” he tells you, still not meeting your eye. He’s never been this sensitive after you’ve rejected him before. What’s his problem? Eyes narrowed, you get to your feet, glaring at him the whole way up the stairs. He never loses the indifferent look, passive-aggressively turning the TV up. 

Usually, you just grab some pants from the guest room. But with Autumn descending, it’s been getting colder, especially in Stu’s drafty old house. There’s a soft yellow sweater that you’ve always tried to steal from him, and he’s never let you get away with it. 

Nabbing it would probably ease up the weird tension. He is a freak, he does love seeing you in his clothes. You figure it’s a solid plan and slip across the hallway, quietly opening his bedroom door. 

As always, his room is a hot damn mess. The bed’s unmade, sheets completely untucked, and half of them sprawled across the floor. There’s a clearly well-loved nudie mag lying open on his nightstand, boobs bared boldly to the world. Rolling your eyes, you shake your head and turn toward his closet. 

Your brows furrow, head tilting at the closed door. As odd as it is, Stu never closes his closet. It’s just another tedious task to him. Besides, he likes to just ball all his clothes up and toss them in wildly. You know his family’s old maid threatened to quit if she had to clean his room ever again. But you wouldn’t believe that looking into the closet now. 

It’s not just clean, it’s pristine. Clothes hung up, sorted by color and sleeve length. Jeans all neatly folded away. The box of old books and junk he had just lying about are tucked up on the top shelf. “What the hell?” You whisper, looking around like you just stepped into Narnia. 

Hell, maybe it’s a portal to a bizarro dimension, it would make more sense than him cleaning up after himself. Whatever, you don’t have time to dwell on Stu’s oddities, you’d just be standing here forever if you did. 

You start in the yellow section of his closet, then drift toward the sweaters. And, of course, the only one you want isn’t anywhere to be found. It has to be buried somewhere in here, and you’re not giving up until that sweater is yours. You dig through his folded pile of jeans recklessly, hoping for a bright spot of yellow to be buried somewhere within them. 

Tugging a little too hard on one of the stacks, something hard clatters against the wooden floor of his closet. “Ah, shit,” you hiss, shoving the jeans back and kneeling to try and spot whatever fell. Lowering your head to the ground, you peer under the hems of his shirts on the lower rack and squint into the shadows. 

There’s a vague shape of something, and you reach toward it. Head tilted the other way, your arm stretches under the sweaters, blindly groping for whatever you sent tumbling. Your fingers snag on fabric, and you grin, thinking it’s the sweater you’ve been coveting. 

Pulling it out, your smile stills, heart rapidly increasing speed until it feels like it’s going to beat out of your ribs. There’s a twisting pain in your stomach, anguish and immediate denial flooding through you as you stare down at the mask in your hands. 

It’s just a cheap drugstore mask. Around Halloween, you could find it anywhere. You could easily dismiss it as something Stu bought as a fucked up joke. Were it not for the flaking copper on the chin of the howling mask. Your fingers tighten around it until you think it might crack. 

Slowly, you tilt your head back toward the shirts. This wasn’t what fell. A part of you screams to just chuck the mask back and pretend you never saw it. You could go downstairs, continue your movie night with Stu, and pass out beside him on the couch. Lying to yourself would be so damn easy. It’s just a mask, half the guys in school bought one because they thought it was a fucking joke. 

But your body isn’t interested in weak excuses. Bowing over, your hand swipes across the wood once more, wrapping around the object that fell. Before you even drag it out, you already know what you’re going to see. A pulsing pain spreads through your chest, eyes watering as you stare down at the knife in your hand. 

A serrated hunting knife, to be exact. The same one Dewey said was used to kill Casey only a week ago. God, how had you not seen this? How could you have been so blind?

Stu had been the number one suspect, but Billy had been his alibi, no one could place him at the scene of the crime.

There has always been something twisted about Billy. It only got worse when his mom left. Maybe this was all his idea, maybe Stu was just dragged into this, but he doesn’t really want-

Your thoughts fade into a dull silence in the back of your mind. There’s no excuse. Stu has always been different, just slightly off. His jokes nearing the wrong side of dark. But you never would have thought him capable of something so brutal. 

Footsteps sound up the stairs, and your brain shocks itself awake. Quickly, you toss the mask back under the clothes and shove the knife into the jeans. Wiping your eyes, you leap to your feet and rush out of the closet just as Stu barrels into his room. 

The both of you pause, staring blankly at each other. You, a deer caught in a hunter’s snare. He, the drooling wolf, waiting to pounce. 

Slowly, his eyes drift toward the closet, the light you left on, and the door you hadn’t had time to close. He turns back to you, and something twisted curls at the edges of his lips. Adrenaline shoots so fast through you it nearly knocks you off your feet. 

“Looking for something?” His tone is light, barely audible, as he takes a step closer. It takes every ounce of self-control not to back away from him. 

Something too strained to be a smile curls your lips up. “Um,” you lick your lips, swallowing down the dryness coating your tongue. You laugh nervously and take a step toward his bed. “Just that sweater I love. 

He stalks towards you, and your eyes widen, heart fluttering in your chest. Just when you think he might run you over, he steps around you and heads toward his dresser. You turn, afraid to take your eyes off of him. 

Peeking above the corner of a drawer is a yellow sleeve. He slips it out easily, holding it out to you with a grin that shows off all his teeth. “Thank you,” you whisper, voice cracking around the words as you snatch the sweater out of his hands. 

“I made more popcorn,” he tells you, eyes wild as he stares down at you. “Halloween’s on.” It’s a simple invitation to a movie, but it feels like there’s a knife to your back. You have no choice but to step out of the room and head down the stairs. Every bit of you screams to act natural, to pretend that there’s nothing wrong. 

How could you be? Your best friend, the boy you’re practically in love with, is slaughtering your friends. He’s running rampant through your town and killing girls just because they broke up with him. 

Risking a glance over your shoulder, you see him already looking at you. The smile is gone, now he’s just watching you with this bemused expression, like he’s waiting for you to break and make a run for it. 

You take a seat on the couch, lean against the pillows, and glue your eyes to the screen. Suddenly, Jamie Lee Curtis babysitting is the most interesting thing in the world to you. Stu takes his seat beside you, sinking into your side and wrapping his arms around your waist. Stiff as a board, you can’t find it in you to return the touch, too petrified by the thought of all the blood on his hands. 

He doesn’t care for your trepidation, taking your arms and wrapping them around himself. He presses his face into the crook of your neck, lips brushing against the sensitive skin as he speaks. “What’s your favorite scary movie?”

Avoiding Stu has been easier than you thought it would. Usually, he’s more persistent in making you hang out with him. Especially when your parents are both out of town at the same time. But he’s been suspiciously quiet since you prematurely ended your weekend stay last week. 

You managed to make it through the night. Though, while Stu dozed on top of you, you had been wide awake. Limbs stiff, eyes unblinking, the whole night had been spent on high alert. You’re not sure if he knows you know, or just suspects it. Either way, you should have turned him in by now. 

The second you left his house, you should have gone straight to the sheriff. You know who's behind the Woodsboro murders. You know who the infamous Ghostface is, and have a suspicion who his other half might be. You could have stopped all this. 

Casey and Steve would be avenged. If you had something, another person wouldn’t have been killed two days ago. You didn’t know him personally, you’d never even seen Stu or Billy interact with him. But this felt less like an attack on him and more like a threat for you. 

Keep quiet, or you’ll be strung up by your intestines. 

Triple checking all your doors and windows are locked, you head upstairs to your room. Prepared to camp out for another sleepless night. If you turned him in, you wouldn’t have to live with this paranoia anymore. Every corner you turn wouldn’t be prefaced with the idea that he might be waiting behind it. No matter how hard you try, you can’t pick up the phone and call the cops. 

You lay back on your bed, listening to the radio in the hopes it might lull you to sleep. It never works, but you hold out hope. The shrill ring of your home phone echoes throughout your empty home. Sitting up on your elbows, you glare at your closed door like it might shut the damn thing up. 

Abruptly, it cuts off. The empty halls of your home fall silent once more, the low droning of your radio barely audible above the blood rushing through your head. You hold your breath, eyes peeled on the door in front of you, waiting for… something. 

The phone goes off again, and you jump, shooting off your bed and grabbing the bat by your nightstand. Slowly, you open your door, peeking your head out before you attempt to cross the hall to your parent’s room. There’s a phone in there, and you’re more comfortable up here than you are beside your glass patio doors downstairs. 

You practically kick the door open, jumping inside the room like you’re prepared to bludgeon someone with your bat. The shadows are thick inside, but you don’t see a cloaked figure waiting for you within one. Feeling confident enough, you run toward your parent’s nightstand and grab the phone. Running back to your room as fast as you can and slamming the door closed behind you, you sink to the floor. 

Thumb hovering over the button, you let out a shaky breath and answer. “Hello?” You try and instill confidence in your voice, but you can’t hide the tremor. 

“Hey,” Billy’s voice croons on the other end, he says your name, and a shudder rolls down your spine. 

“Billy?” His name is a hoarse croak as you feel your heart thud dully inside your chest. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to tell you something.” He pauses, and you bite your lip, nails digging into your palms as you wait for him to speak. “I’ve always wondered,” there’s a click, and then a raspier, unfamiliar voice speaks, “what do your insides look like?”

Something slams against your front door, and you drop the phone with a shrill scream, jumping to your feet and whirling around. You hear Billy’s distorted cackle echo through the speaker before abruptly cutting off. On the floor, three low beeps sound out. Bending down, you pick up the bulky phone and press it to your ear. Nothing but white noise. You toss the phone on your bed and swallow down another scream. No service. 

You’re all alone. 

The startling realization of silence rushes over you, gooseflesh rises along your arms, the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. The banging downstairs has quieted and your house is once more silent. But it’s no longer the same vacant stillness it was before. There’s someone here, it’s an instinctive feeling. Long buried prey instincts warning you of a predator sniffing you out.  

Creeping quietly across the floor, you avoid the creaky wood that would give your movements away and once more open the door. It seems foolish to put yourself so boldly out in the open. Being cornered in that room is no better. No matter what, it’s just you and him all alone out here. 

You wonder, as you peek your head around the banister, if this is just Stu stalking you. Is Billy getting rid of a liability? Is it both of them?

One, you could handle on your own. But if it was the both of them, the only thing you could do was go down swinging. If you were going to die tonight, you weren’t going to let it be easy for either of them. 

Your front door is wide open, an easy escape. There was no point in running. Either one of them is waiting outside for you, or they’ve cut the brakes on your car. You crouch, peering through the railings and silently making your way down the stairs. Try as you might, you don’t see signs that anyone has come inside. 

Besides the door, there are no clues to give away where they might have gone. You don’t want to play the role of the bimbo in their sick fantasy. Despite the instinct to call out for someone, you swallow it down and continue through your home. 

Beyond the stark terror of facing your own mortality, there is also the pain of being so thoroughly betrayed by Stu. You know the truth of what he is, of what Billy is. And you kept it quiet. You buried his dark secret like it was your own, protected him. This is how he repays you?

This is his answer after years of you loving him. How could he?

You stand in the middle of your living room, bat hanging limp by your side. The aching pain of grief and fear stills your body. The fight wanes inside you, debating whether or not prolonging this is worth it. The others all fought back, and they died bloody. Maybe if you just gave in, it would be quick, painless. Stu could at least grant you that. 

There’s a brief flash of movement in the reflection of your patio door. It’s slight, like a shifting shadow. Only one thing gives him away, the white, howling mask. Instinct overrides sensitivities, you whip around, bat flying. There’s a low groan as it smashes over his head. 

Reaching up, he snatches it in his hand, using it to jerk you forward. You’re quick to let it go. Instead, you aim for his throat. Hands outstretched as you reach up, gripping his neck as tight as you can. There’s shock in his stuttered breaths, like he hadn’t thought you would fight back. You were beginning to doubt yourself, too. 

Turns out you’re too stubborn to die. 

The bat clacks loudly against the wood as he stumbles back into your mother’s glass coffee table. His legs kick up, tripping you and sending you stumbling into his chest. The both of you go plummeting backward, glass shattering around him and the wood crumpling like a tower of cards. 

Jagged shards cut at your arms and bare legs, but you know he takes the brunt of it. Your grip on his throat is unrelenting, you pick his head up and slam it against the wood. He lets out a dazed groan, and you would laugh were you not trying to stop your best friend from killing you. He seems ridiculous, wearing this stupid cheap mask and moaning like a cartoon character with a bump on their head. 

He bucks under you, hips pressing up against yours as he flips you both over. Pain rips through your back as the glass digs into your skin. Letting out a low whine, your hands slack on him for just a moment. It’s still long enough for him to get the upper hand. 

He straddles your waist, pinning you below him with his weight as he kneels on your swinging arms. You’re utterly paralyzed, with no other choice but to stare up at him as tears stream, hot and slick, down your cheeks. 

Stu rips his mask off, eyes wild as he grins down at you. “Damn, sweetheart,” he laughs, and it only makes you fight harder against him. Screaming through your teeth as you try to buck him off of you. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”

He tosses the mask to the side and motions to the knife in his hand, “Surprise,” he practically sings the word, watching for your reaction. You bite your tongue, hiccuping on a sob as you stare up at him through blurry eyes. “Right,” he concedes, tilting his head, “you already knew.”

You can feel the blood pooling beneath you, the glass digging further into your shredded skin. It only makes this all the more unbearable. “Stop,” you beg, voice breaking as you struggle to hold back the tears. “I didn’t tell,” you shout at him. “Why are you doing this?” The tears break around the rage slipping through your voice as you glare up at him. 

“What are you talking about?” He snaps, his amusement waning the harder you cry. 

“Billy!” you shout the name out, just barely managing to wiggle one wrist free. He snatches it up instantly, the knife falling beside you as he leans over you, digging your hand into the glass above your head. “He said you wanted to see my insides,” there’s no controlling the sobs now. You don’t want to die. You don’t want Stu to be the one to kill you. Somehow, though, you think this would have hurt worse if it was Billy holding the knife. 

Stu’s face falls before quickly twisting up into something angry. He backs off, easing his weight just enough for the press of glass to sting a little less. “No,” he utters, shaking his head. “No, that’s not the plan.” 

Stu looks nearly manic as he stares down at you. Something unfurls inside you, years of friendship have you reaching up with your free hand. You don’t know what your plan is until he’s leaning into your touch, eyes never leaving yours. 

His hand grips your waist, easing you into a sitting position. You want to curl up into a ball and go hide in a dark corner. You want to shove glass down his throat and run. The knife looks particularly appealing beside you. 

But you do none of that. You let him tug you closer, hand tightening to the point of pain around your waist, but you don’t think he realizes, and you’re too afraid to point it out. “You’re our final girl, baby,” he practically fucking giggles, and you struggle not to flinch from the sound. “He was just fucking with you.”

“Yeah?” You snap, fingers trailing toward his hair and yanking until his face crinkles with pain. “Then what the fuck,” venom coats your tongue, voice low and deadly, “are you doing right now?”

He smiles, leaning into the way you rip at his hair. “Screwing around,” he laughs, and he sounds like a goddamn idiot. Scoffing, you release him, jerking out of his grip and ignoring the way it pulls at the wounds on your back. 

“God,” you crumple into yourself, shoulders hunching forward as you hide your face behind your hands. “I can’t believe I ever thought you could love me. You’re sick, Stu,” you snap, holding back more tears. 

Blood and glass surround you both, the shattered fragments of your friendship. Stu looks more hurt than when you strangled him. He reaches for you, and you jump back, shaking your head. ‘I was never going to kill you,” he swears. But what does the promise of a murderer mean to you?

“I don’t believe you,” voice a whisper, the tears spill over once more. He looks between you and the knife like he can’t decide what to do. You wait for it, for the snap before he just plunges the knife into your gut. Twisting it and dragging your death on. 

Instead, he lunges forward, wrapping his arms around yours and forcing you into his embrace. “Stop,” you claw weakly at his shoulders, snagging your nails in the cheap cloak. You shake your head, but the fight is over before it even begins. Your arms curl around his neck, and you sink into his familiar embrace. 

His gloved hand skates over the wounds on your back, and you whine, arching away from his touch. He offers a whispered apology, but you don’t believe it. “Billy’s not going to touch you,” he swears. “I’m never going to hurt you.”

“You already have.”

His arms only tighten around you, pulling you into his lap as you cry. You might not believe him, but he knows the truth of it. You’re his best friend. The only person besides Billy he’s ever actually cared about. 

You are his perfect final girl, and he’s never going to let you go. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the movie Scream, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[marigold-hills]

Coming here to humbly request my beloved wolfstar at prompt 41?

of course! I was so happy to see you request. It’s turned out a little longer than I expected, hope you enjoy!

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

“I’m not drunk enough for this,” Remus says because the truth - that he’s altogether too drunk for this - would make it stop.

They’re playing truth or dare, Marauders edition. To their left, little shot glasses spiked with Veritaserum James has been brewing in a hidden alcove behind his bed. To their right glasses full of their chosen alcohol. Remus has a cheap muggle whiskey he’d learnt to enjoy over the summer, nowhere as smooth as what they sometimes get in the Three Broomsticks but he’s fond of how it burns when he swallows.

He prefers not to examine this.

“Come on, Moonshine, truth of dare,” Sirius cajols from his spot, sprawled out as he is across the rug at Remus’ feet. Hair a tangled mess on the floor, silly little grin stretching his lips and eyes just that side of glassy from the posh gin he has swirling like golden freckles in his glass. He’s a mess. He’s beautiful.

“Truth,” Remus sighs, faux-put out. His last dare involved standing and hopping and he doesn’t think he’s got the coordination left for any more.

Peter’s asleep in the corner of the floor, head wedged underneath his four-poster. Now and then, he snores and tries to roll over. Each time the bed leg gets in his way and he bounces away, disgruntled sleepy little sounds not unlike Wormtail’s.

James had gone to get supplies from the kitchen. Ostensibly. By the way he eyed the door as Evan’s laugh rose from downstairs, Remus doesn’t think he’s really coming back.

He rather likes having Sirius’ attention all to himself, is the thing. A bad thing. Another thing he prefers not to examine.

Sirius nudges the shot of potion and Remus, still pretending to be so very against the idea, drinks.

It’s James’ very own take on Veritaserum. Not enough to make them babble away all their secrets, not enough to force them to answer against their will. Just that whatever they do say, should they choose to, can be absolutely verified as truth.

Just one way of many that James, an absolute lovesick fool he is, is actually remarkably clever.

Remus drinks the agreed upon dose (three sips) and closes his eyes against the sudden rush of floaty giddiness. It goes as fast as it came.

Sirius sits up from his sprawl, and he looks so much like Padfoot for a moment Remus has to fight himself from stroking his head. It’s an ok thing to do to a dog. Not to a man.

“You’ve been reading poetry,” Sirius says with that self satisfied little lilt he gets in his voice when he’s a few steps ahead of everyone else.

“That’s not a question,” Remus tells him.

“You’ve been reading love poetry,” and there he is, leaning forward so his chin rests on Remus’ bed, those eyes of his looking up through those lashes and even without the potion Remus would tell him anything he asked.

“You didn’t need to give me Veritaserum to discuss literature, Padfoot.”

The smile stretches. “You’re not reading your dreary sad poetry, or your creepy gothic poetry, or your too-much-description-of-the-mountains poetry. Not anymore. You’re reading about love.”

Remus freezes. Because of course Sirius would notice. He notices everything, always, without fail. “And your question?”

Sirius doesn’t look like he’s asking, his eyes have something in them like he already knows. “Who is it?”

A redundancy of words. Remus sighs. Drinks his drink - for courage, not for forfeit. “You already know, Sirius,” he says, trying to keep his voice still. “Don’t be cruel.”

Sirius pushes off the floor and climbs up onto the bed and into Remus’ lap, and that? He didn’t expect that. His hands are full of Sirius, keeping him steady so he doesn’t go toppling off.

They really are drunk. The both of them, bad as one another.

“Tell me anyway,” Sirius asks. It’s nothing like begging, maybe more like a command, but really it sounds like Sirius knows he would never be denied. There is no point in asking when the answer is already given. (With every breath and every shared cup of tea, every glance across a room.)

“You know it’s you, Sirius,” Remus tells him through the Veritaserum’s pushing, without really knowing he does.

Sirius pounces. They topple backward onto the bed, Remus spread out on the mattress and Sirius on him, across him, above him. A grin so wide his teeth show, pretty and white and perfect. He smells like the overly expensive gin he’s been drinking.

“If you kiss me because you’re drunk, I don’t think I’ll forgive you,” Remus tells him.

“How about I kiss you because I love you?”

And that? “That you should absolutely do,” Remus falters, “do you?”

Sirius grabs the nearest wand (it’s Remus’) and has his own shot glass float up to where he’s clearly unwilling to get off Remus even for a moment. He drinks the three sips. “I do,” he says, once he’s given the potion enough time to work.

It’s Remus, that kisses him first.  (List of prompts: here!)

[revelboo]

Cannot believe that knockout has a HUMAN side piece and that breakdown is jealous of them smh 😔

(I love your writing sm btw I'm binging everything)

I can see Breakdown being the more attentive, affectionate of the two in a relationship once he gets over the fear of reader stealing Knockout. Any unpleasantness with the human just gets pawned off on him by Knockout, though. You’re sick? Ew. No, that’s Breakdown’s problem now.

My Favorite Accident Pt 10

TFP Knockout x Reader x Breakdown

• Heart racing as the car puts itself into gear and starts rolling, wheel turning, you dig your fingers into your thighs. There’s something seriously wrong with you for being relieved that you’re being grabbed by one of them, someone who knows Knockout and not some random, human druggie. “We race together,” you say, putting your hands in your lap remembering how weird Knockout was about you touching things inside him. “Are you his friend?” Because you really wish you’d asked Knockout more questions about his people. He’s gossiped enough though to remember names he’s dropped. And one he’d mentioned more than any other. “You’re Breakdown, right?”

• Engine stuttering for a klik at the fact that Knockout had told you about him, he growls. What exactly had the medic told you? “That’s right.” And okay, that voice of yours is soothing. Is that the fascination? Knockout just liking how you sound? Knows Knockout can be a bit funny about things he finds pretty, but aside from that soft voice, you’re just another organic flesh bag. Nothing special. Why reveal himself? “He talks to you about me often?”

• Enough to know this is his bestie and maybe something a bit more. Do alien robots do romance? Because when he’d mentioned this guy, he’d sounded almost wistful for all of five seconds before catching himself and swapping back to arrogant condescension. “He said you look after the,” you begin and hesitate as you scrabble for the word he’d used, “Vehicons. Make sure they have what they need.” Even if Knockout had sounded torn between almost admiration and annoyed bemusement by that. Like Breakdown was wasting his time.

• Engine rumbling as you fidget in his passenger seat, he vents. “Someone has to,” he mutters. It had been an insult when they’d put him over the cloned soldiers, but really, they’re Cybertronians, too. They have sparks. And he’d just shrugged it off, doing his assignment to the best of his ability. Trying to lobby for better conditions, a bit more rations for them. “Those energon mines are death traps even when we’re not at war.”

• “I think that’s what Knockout admires about you. That you care,” you say, because staying on this guy’s good side seems prudent. And you have no idea where he’s taking you, but you’re starting to get worried. “You’re not driving me out in the desert to dump my body, are you?” Because he’d left the outskirts of your little town miles ago. And he laughs, but also doesn’t answer your question. “Cause Knockout may be a little put out at losing the only real competition he has in the races.” No response. Alright then. You grab his gear shift and shove it into park catching him by surprise as he shudders and snarls, hear his startled alien swearing as you claw at the little nob to unlock the door, breaking a nail before throwing open the door and running flat out.

Previous

[kayawolfhorse]

The sun sets molten across the server, brushing the horizon in strokes of fiery reds and sickly, lurid golds. Rivulets of light drip sluggishly between the boughs of the dark oaks around Grian and glint against the diamond blade held loose at his side—a mere precaution, in this space between one held breath and the next. The night is young enough to have not yet spawned its monsters, and evenings are an agreed-upon respite this early in the game.

Grian flexes his hand around the sword as he walks. As newly-crafted as it is, the leather grip is still stiff, and it cuts a hard crease into where his time ticks away between the green lines of his palm. The heart and the life lines, he vaguely recalls, working in tandem to cease the pulse at his wrist. Who had told him that? It doesn’t matter.

The din of the day has faded into a buzzing hum that reverberates across Grian’s nerves. His shoulders feel pinched within the confines of the jacket Joel had wrangled him into. The grass doesn’t sound quite right beneath his soles. There is a sense of wrongness that clings to the back of his neck.

“Fancy seeing you here!”

His blade is at Scar’s throat before Grian can register the movement. “Scar!” He lowers his arm and glares. He does not put the sword away. “You can’t do that to a man.”

Scar’s grin is far too crooked to be anything close to the sheepishness he tries to sell it as. “Sorry, sorry,” he says, meaning approximately none of it. “Beautiful day we’re having, isn’t it? Would you just feel that breeze! The air is ripe with opportunity, don’t you think?”

“Uh huh,” Grian says drily. “Were you following me?”

“It’s all coincidences, Grian, all coincidence,” Scar says with a wink. His tinted glasses are perched rather precariously on his face. Behind them, in such low light, his eyes look odd. “I just happened to be in the area! That sword is completely unnecessary, by the way.”

“Do you want something? Is that what this is?”

“Can’t a guy just visit with his favorite bread bridge boy?”

“Bad Boy,” Grian corrects, and immediately wonders why he bothers. “And anyway, I’m hardly on favorite grounds.”

“Oh, nonsense.” Scar waves him away, and his striped shirt—predominantly buttoned for once—ripples with it. “Joel’s definitely crossed off the potential list, we can rule him out. Jimmy and you are about even on the mischief meter, but between you and me, you wear those sunglasses better.”

Grian wrinkles his nose. “They weren’t my idea.”

“And yet here you are, wearing sunglasses after the sun’s gone down.”

“On my head.” Grian gestures at where they’re propped in his hair to emphasize his point. “You’re over here actually wearing yours. Why are they blue, anyway? That’s got to make the world look weird.”

“Oh, they do,” Scar agrees. He slides off his glasses and takes a moment to consider them before, without warning, turning them around and sticking them on Grian’s face.

Grian’s sputtering protest dies in his throat as Scar adjusts where the glasses lay behind his left ear, brushing the shell of it in the process. Scar’s skin is rough with callouses and his touch is gentle. Grian is suddenly, inexplicably warm.

Once satisfied with his work, Scar takes a step back and tilts his head. The blue tint of the glasses does color the world strangely, but every observation of it is taken from Grian’s peripheral; his field of vision seems to have narrowed to encompass Scar alone. Like this, his eyes appear sea-green, and it’s nicer than the near-fluorescent shade his current life gives him, but Grian can’t help but think of kinder worlds and the lovely, lively emerald they bring with them.

“Well?” Scar prompts.

After Grian’s remembered how to breathe, he huffs at Scar. “Now I’m wearing two pairs of stupid glasses—hey!”

Scar steals Grian’s sunglasses and slides them into his own hair, and it’s stupid, really, how well he pulls them off. He strikes a pose and asks, “How do I look?”

“Like an idiot,” Grian deadpans, but the quirk of his lip betrays the straight face he’s trying to keep. This is the problem with Scar: no matter what may lie between them, regardless of the sides they stand on, it never takes Scar long to slip between the barbs of Grian’s scowl and soften the points into a smile.

Scar is entirely too aware of such an issue for Grian’s personal liking, if how his eyes crinkle at the corners is anything to go by. “A matching pair we make, then!”

“Hey, now, don’t go lumping me into this.” Grian’s sure the blue glasses look silly on him without the context of the rest of Scar’s get-up.

From a nearby tree, a spider leaps towards them with its mandibles splayed. Grian strikes it down in two hits; after it disappears, he turns to raise an eyebrow at Scar.

“Maybe the sword had some use,” Scar concedes, “but not against me!”

“We’re both green; I wouldn’t have killed you anyway,” Grian remarks.

“Of course, of course, that comes later.” Scar is easily wry and comfortably teasing.

“Of course.” Grian smirks. The night is dark. The faint, flickering light of a nearby torch illuminates Scar’s lingering smile—a small, private thing, accompanied by a slight pitch in his brow. Grian’s voice comes out lower than he means it to as he says, “Best be getting back, yeah? You wouldn’t want to lose time to some old skeleton.”

“Bedtime waits for no man.” Scar nods. “Especially if you’re teamed with Bdubs.”

Grian laughs. His fingers twitch at his side for something he can’t name but feels twisting in his chest. “Goodnight, Scar.”

“Goodnight, Grian!” With one last flash of his teeth, Scar’s unprotected back recedes further into the forest as he heads for the Clockers’ base. A beat passes, then another, as Grian’s feet remain rooted in place.

Nearby rattling shakes him of his stupor. Sighing, Grian passes a hand over his face as he starts in the direction of the bridge. Belatedly, he realizes he’s still wearing Scar’s glasses.

He folds them carefully into his pocket before he reaches the Bread Bridge. The world’s strangeness no longer has the justification of a filtered view. The stars don’t look quite right above him.

Before beginning the climb to the half-burnt mansion’s roof, Grian lightly touches the glasses’ translucent rim. He does not think about too-green eyes and too-indulgent smiles. He does not think about blood that always stains the same.

He’ll give the glasses back tomorrow.

[smilesrobotlover]

Here’s a list of characters that I think should’ve made it in Hyrule Warriors:

Groose. 100% he should’ve been in hw. Each era of characters seem to follow a theme of two heroes and 1 villain (in regards of the main story at least): oot has Ruto and Darunia, and tho he’s not exact I sorta count Volga since he looks like Volvagia, tp has Midna and Agitha and Zant, but skord only has Fi and Ghirahim. Why wasn’t Groose the second hero character for that era??? He’s one of the most important characters in the game and the groosenator is IN IT too! It feels disrespectful to NOT have him in it yet he’s not. I don’t understand the logic behind it but it makes me upsetti spaghetti because Groose is the best guy around

Rusl. This is definitely bias talking cuz I love Rusl but also I feel like it makes more sense. Now… I like Agitha in tp. I think she’s a very fun and charming character that adds more life to the world of Tp, but she’s not an important character in that game. You could go the whole game without meeting her and have no consequence (tho she gives you great prizes so it certainly doesn’t hurt to see her), but for some reason she was added to Hyrule warriors? I just don’t think it makes any sense when the resistance were right there. Rusl is one of the most important characters in the game by being Link’s father figure, protecting the kids, being apart of the resistance, and teaching Link how to fight. It feels more natural to have an actual fighting character that was important to the plot be added, but he wasn’t. And this random child who is not a fighter and has no plot relevance was added instead. I will forever be salty about this. And if not Rusl, they should’ve at LEAST gone with Ashei since she’s also a fighter! Give the resistance some love! They’re such cool characters that were not utilized enough! UGH

Vaati. Now I don’t care too much for Vaati in the canon games, but Vaati is a very unique villain because he’s the most reoccurring villain besides Ganondorf in the Zelda series, and he was the first villain of Hyrule before Ganondorf came into existence. I feel like he should’ve had a chance in the game, maybe not in the main story, but at least a playable character. Now, tbf, Vaati is in games that aren’t super well known save for Minish cap, but still. In the world of zelda he’s very important and I feel like deserved a spot on the roster.

Now this isn’t in the actual Hyrule warriors game, but it is a hw game and I think Astor fits on this list. You’re telling me this guy was the main villain in the entire game save for the final battle and he WASNT playable?? HUH???? That is the most absurd character on this list to not be added cuz he’s not some side character, he’s the VILLAIN. Even Sooga became playable (tho that was DLC) but he WASNT! Astor was done so dirty in this game and he deserves so much better. He should’ve been playable is all I’m saying.

I surprisingly don’t have a strong opinion on this cuz idk how they could do this well but I feel like I must say this out of obligation, but Linebeck… and solely cuz I need him so bad. I want to play him in something or see him in something or do SOMETHING with him. I miss my wife tails… again, idk what they could do but they did add Medli so I’m sure they could’ve figured something out. He’s easily one of the most important characters in phantom hourglass and I would’ve love to see him 😔💔

And that’s all I have. I’m curious what other characters people wish were added to Hyrule warriors :00 but these are the big ones for me.

[judamars]

Just came to a shocking revelation

If you take one good look at my profile, you don’t even have to scroll far to tell that I absolutely love Gihun. Most of the time though when I talk about it I mention how he’s made crazy stupid decisions in the second season and how I wish he just got on the plane to see his daughter. But, here’s the thing.

Coming from someone who also has divorced parents, and lives with my mom and a stepdad and doesn’t know really know where my bio dad is, if I were Gayeong, I would be able to come to terms with not knowing where he is.

I saw someone mention that Gayeong is in a more stable situation with her mom and stepdad now that her mom and Gihun are divorced, and that’s honestly probably very true. So they’re right, Gihun doesn’t really need to BE there. Gayeong is safer where she is. What irks me though, and i know im not the only person who feels this way, is that when you’re that young and your parents are arguing in front of you and are obviously unhappy with each other, it hurts A LOT to witness it all.

So, my point being, I can understand Gihun opting to stay in Korea and can even slightly understand him ghosting Gayeong. I still don’t know why he would call her, say nothing, and then just wait for her to hang up as that’s just kinda weird regardless, but I can see what his intentions are.

And also, I don’t think Gayeong is hurting as much as we think she is. At least not anymore. It’s absolutely devastating to lose your birth parent in any fashion, but she has a lot more facilities and space in America to get the help she needs to overcome the hurt. As we saw in season one, her stepdad is well off, so surely her therapy bills are being paid for.

On the other side of that coin, I think that’s why Gihun turned around. Maybe he originally was going to go visit, maybe he was going to move to America to keep an eye on her from a distance. But once he knew there were more people about to suffer just as he did, he made one of the hardest decisions a parent could make in a split second by turning around. If my dad did that, I think I’d be proud of him. I’d be hurt at first, but eventually, I’d be happy for him if I knew.

[unreachableniy]

(Who is stalking you? PAC) I will posess your heart..

I will be focusing on the energy that this person gives in general and also their potential Astro big three! Remember that if it does not apply let it fly!

Pile 1

Pile 1, you definitely know this person. I’m picking up a strong what goes around comes around energy. This could be someone from your past, perhaps a person you wronged or even an old romantic connection, like a failed talking stage. Signs Virgo, Aries rising, Mercury energy, for some of you even Gemini.

They’re watching you, whether online, at your workplace, or somewhere you frequent. And here’s the thing you found them attractive, didn’t you? Maybe even really attractive. There’s still an unspoken tension lingering in the air. For now, they remain in the shadows, observing from a distance, possibly even fantasizing about what could have been. They aren’t ready to step forward just yet, but their presence lingers.

Keep your enemies close and your friends closer because this one is watching.

Song Rec: Carmen-Lana Del Rey

Pile 2

If you’re like me and choose Pile 2, buckle up, you’re in for an interesting time.

The first image that flashed in my mind was a tiger. Something…or someone predatory is headed your way. They’re hungry, famished even, ready to consume you whole. And yes, that could mean exactly what you’re thinking. 😏

This person exudes an intense, flirtatious, magnetic energy. They want to hold you close, let you rest on their chest, and run their hands down your back. I see them cooking for you, guiding you, wanting to take control, not in a suffocating way, but to ease your burdens. They crave to lead, to protect, to devote themselves to you.

I’m getting major Capricorn Mars, Scorpio Rising,Scorpio Sun,and Taurus Sun energy here. And oddly enough, you may not even know them yet. Their energy feels playful, confident, and almost *too* good to be true at first. I keep hearing:

"Everything I do is for you."

"Baby, please don’t be like that."

It feels like, at first, you resist maybe even challenge them. There’s a push-and-pull, a power struggle. But soon, you realize… they aren’t here to overpower you. They’re here to help, to hold you up, to love you.

Song: High By The Beach-Lana del Rey

Pile 3

Alright, cuties, I'm picking up some serious co-worker energy here. Maybe it’s a colleague, a higher-up, or even your boss. Take a moment to reflect you probably already have someone in mind and just need confirmation.

This person stands out, but in an offbeat, effortlessly cool way. I’m sensing strong Pisces or Aquarius placements, perhaps a Neptune or Uranus-dominant chart. They move through life with a unique rhythm, and yet… something about you unsettles them. I keep hearing the word “hate”, but not in a simple, surface-level way. It’s layered. They might resent how freely you exist, how your kindness isn’t calculated but instinctual. It could even be the kind of “hate” that’s tangled up with admiration—or, dare I say, love? On the flip side, maybe you secretly can’t stand them.

I’m also getting the image of a train, which hints at movement physical distance, a commute, or even the idea of paths crossing at the right (or wrong) time. There’s an unfinished conversation here, a lingering “why?” hanging between you two, like a question left unanswered or feelings unspoken.

Oh, and one last thing… someone here *might* have a thing for feet. Do with that what you will. 👀

Song: You Found Me- The Fray

Thank you for stopping by Kitty’s Manifestation Pawlor🌙 Nya~ come back soon k!

[scrapmetaldoe]

large rocket headcannon dump because he means a lot to me (very largely mcu based)

He listens to music as much as possible. If you find him working on something or just reading a book he is listening to music.

He loves making things and giving them to people.

As much as he says he’s against it he loves getting pet, but he was against it for a while because it makes him feel vulnerable.

He is a hater at heart and he holds so many grudges against people that have wronged him, no matter how small.

He is more of a tea person and has made his own tea before.

Rocket cannot cook at all, he almost burnt down his apartment in knowhere one time trying to make a grilled cheese. However he loves food and loves being made food too.

He adores being called pet names.

He is not the best at normal reassurance but reassures in his own way. Like he will not give you words of reassurance and instead will say “What if instead of being sad we go blow shit up will that help?” (and it does)

His handwriting is awful and he is no longer allowed to write things for the guardians because nobody else can read it.

He has minor hearing loss from the amount of loud noises he’s around. From gunfire, explosions, and just listening to music too loud.

He is a certified yapper and will talk on and on about his interests.

(this ones self indulgent hehe) He loves loves loves collecting flowers and giving them away to the people that they remind him of.

His tail wags when he’s happy and he Hates it.

He’s very blunt about things and will just call people out when they’re being stupid.

He very much likes physical closeness and after a certain point of being around people doesn’t leave their side.

As said by @/raccoonfallsharder raccoons are very tactile (right here) and after crying over that i thought about how he’d react to your hand, and how eventually holding it would become a second nature to him, being able to recognize it was you only from touch and nothing else.

He likes to stick out his tongue in a mocking way but it doesn’t look mocking it just looks cute.

Groot when he was a sapling used to do up his fur and he “complained” about it but he actually really enjoyed it.

He did research on what build-a-bears were after tony called him one and he was Not happy to say the least.

(Last one) Him and yondu talked about embarrassing moments of quills. So every now and again rocket brings one up to quill and quill is shocked by how he knows that.

i have more but i’m tired, thank you all <33

[liliasenbyhusband]

Elizabeth Arden and Helena Rubinstein hate fucked

18+

In case it wasn’t clear by the title this is nsfw (especially the second part) so minors dni!!

Before I go on this rant I do want to say that I’ve only seen a couple of clips from this musical and have never fully seen it (if anyone has a link 👀). I do however listen to the soundtrack religiously and I’m a lesbian so I feel that qualifies me and makes me right about this.

Also please note this is about the characters and not the actual people!

Firstly their sexualities just cause I can:

I believe Helena Rubinstein is a lesbian, the only reason she ever entertained men is because that’s what was expected and needed to get where she wanted to get. In If I’d been a man she says “I love only men I can't caress” and that honestly sounds so much like someone experiencing comphet to me. Like only loving men you know you can’t have cause it brings you some solace that you at least still like men??? Of course we also have the absolute obsession with Elizabeth and like nothing is straight about that. On top of all of that in Forever Beautiful she very proudly talks about how Tamara De Lempicka had a crush on her which is also not very straight of her and then there is this little moment in No, Thank You where she talks to mr Paley about his wife that had me question if she’s fucking his wife… ngl… like the way she says “I insist, it’s sapphire, like her eyes” had me going like 🤨 “and how do you know that, ma’am???”.

I find Elizabeth Arden more difficult to place, I’m going to be honest. Of course the obsession with Helena is very fucking gay, it reminds me of the song ‘loathing’ from the wicked musical, so she is definitely sapphic. I believe she does like men as well though, like she was genuinely into her husband, I think. My gut is saying bisexual but with good arguments I could be persuaded of most other sapphic identities as well.

Now for the main event: they fucked.

They were obsessed with each other for half a century... HALF A CENTURY… that is a different kind of loathing like… that is a type of obsession that in and of itself is so fucking sapphic that I can’t even put it into words. Like they live in each other’s heads rent free. And when you think about someone that much, you can’t tell me that you don’t, at some level, want them. Once again think of the song ‘loathing’.. hate and love/lust are not opposite emotions, they are far closer to one another than one might think.

They caused themselves (and their businesses) so much damage just to be able to hinder the other. Imagine hating someone so much you want to make their life that much more difficult and will even shoot yourself in the foot for it. That in itself is so sexually and emotionally charged.. like she really means so much to you that you’d damage yourself just so she suffers too?? If that isn’t the gayest thing you ever heard then idk anymore.

The tension that comes from hating one another so severely and trying to continuously make life harder for the other person can so easily slip into something more sexually charged that you cannot convince me that during a specifically heated argument the sexual tension didn’t become too much for them. So they snapped and just let it all out. It was definitely rough and not pretty, I’m talking clashing teeth, fighting to have the upper hand (I believe Helena ends up winning) and torn up clothes. It would truly bring out their most feral side and any composure and grace they previously held goes out the window.

And once the dam broke the first time well.. let’s just say whenever life got too much and they needed to take it out on someone… their arguments turned into something more carnal.

Now let’s talk about Face to Face because that song is gay as all hell. What do you mean you wonder about what her favourite perfume and artists are??? Like the way they’re singing about one another in this song is the reason I first was like “oh they fucked”.

At the beginning of the song Helena complains about how she’s always been attached to her ‘rival’ but they’ve attached themselves to each other, no one forced them to remain enemies or to continue being petty and make life harder for the other. They could have detached at any point.

Also how they suddenly wanna share their struggles with one another??? GAY!!! And how they suddenly admit that maybe the other person is possibly just as good as they are because why else would they be able to annoy them this much??? SAPPHICS!!!

Now onto stealing each other’s confidant… like there is something so petty and so gay about that like why on earth do you want the person that is closest to her by your side? Is it because you want to get under their skin so badly that you’ll do anything?? Is it because it’s a way to have her closer to you without being closer? Or do you want to gain more knowledge about her??? No matter the answer, the outcome is so fucking gay and most definitely leads to hate sex. Like what do you mean you stole her husband to have as your right hand man??? That is so utterly bizar and is such a messy lesbian move. What are you trying to get to know about her that you need her husband as your right hand man 🤨.

Beauty in the world + the entire finale is so fucking gay. It’s basically like “yeah only us two know about when there was true beauty in the world” and like “we should just stay enemies for business” HELLO??? “Our secret” EXCUSE ME???. Maybe we helped the other survive/thrive??? What kind of gay ass shit????? Helena asking Elizabeth her opinion on her lipstick. The way Helena looks at Elizabeth when she sings “Eyes that glittered like a gem. The lovers we bewitched with them.” They definitely fucked.

“Strange with you I see it all again like new. A glimpse of beauty in the world.” SORRY??? I DON’T THINK ANYONE HAS EVER SAID ANYTHING AS ROMANTIC TO ME AS THIS.

The way they look back so fondly on their rivalry.. it really was a way to cope and survive and blow off steam and you cannot convince me that they didn’t hate fuck to help with that.

After that encounter they had sex one last time and for the first time it wasn’t purely hate filled but there was some softness and fondness there.

And lastly THE WAY HELENA APPLIES ELIZABETH’S LIPSTICK IN beauty in the world. LIKE THE WAY SHE SO GENTLY WIPES IT AWAY THEN APPLIES IT AGAIN?? The first time I saw that I nearly screamed and died. If that moment can’t convince you that they slept together then nothing can.

That’s it’s for now. I wanted to add more clips as proof etc but I can only add one sooo I chose this one

(This rant was inspired by a reaction from @yourbasicqueerie)

[sunwoniie]

REVENGE

Pairing: idol!virgin!soft dom!Jay x idol!virgin!brat!Isabella

Synopsis: Lately, Isabella has been ignoring Jay, which is pretty weird considering she usually loves messing with him until he’s absolutely furious. At first, he’s just confused, but when he finally figures out why she’s avoiding him, he realizes it’s the perfect chance to get back at her. And he’s not about to let it go to waste.

Warnings: virgin jay and isa, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (pulling out before coming), bathroom sex

Old scenario

English is not my first language

Lately, I’ve been getting familiar with cold showers. They’re known for their health benefits, but that’s not why I take them. Cold showers are also used to calm people down—especially when their urges become overwhelming. Like me. Right now.

I’m ovulating, and it’s driving me insane. The need is so intense that I might actually call an escort just to get some relief.

My ovulation periods have always been wild, but things got worse when I practically started living with a bunch of ridiculously attractive guys. And yet, despite being surrounded by them, my fixation is on Jay. When that started, I have no idea.

Jay and I have always had this bickering dynamic. I don’t hate him—if anything, I love to annoy him. Seeing that irritated expression on his face is pure entertainment. Pranking him is my specialty, and nothing amuses me more than watching him turn red with frustration when he realizes it was me. I laugh so hard my stomach hurts, and the moment he spots me, he yells my name before chasing me down.

Running while laughing? Impossible. He always catches me, pinning me down against whatever is closest—the floor, the wall—before tickling me until I can’t breathe.

It’s fun.

But not when I’m ovulating.

When he pins me down, holding my wrists above my head with one hand while tickling me with the other, my thoughts spiral into something else entirely. Something not-so-innocent.

That’s why, from the moment my ovulation started, I began avoiding him. No teasing, no pranks. I knew exactly where it would lead, and I didn’t trust myself to handle the consequences.

It’s late at night, and the boys are having a sleepover in our apartment. I can’t sleep—not with these thoughts clouding my mind—so I decide to take a cold shower, hoping it will help.

I step out of the tub, wrapping my bathrobe around me before opening the bathroom door—only to freeze.

A sharp gasp escapes my lips before I slap a hand over my mouth, as if that could undo what just happened.

Jay is standing right in front of me, his messy hair and relaxed posture making it clear he just got up. His hands are buried in the pockets of those gray joggers I hate—because he looks so damn good in them, and I would never admit it—but also love, because they fuel my fantasies about something I’ve never seen.

“Y-you scared me,” I stammer, lowering my gaze to the floor, unable to handle the intensity of his stare. The normal me would be mortified at how easily he’s intimidating me right now.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t let me pass.

I shift to the side, hoping he’ll take the hint and enter the bathroom so I can leave, but he remains planted in place.

“Jay… are you okay?” I whisper, mindful of the others sleeping in the living room.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking that?” he finally speaks, his voice low.

I swallow. “W-what do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb.” His head tilts slightly, eyes narrowing. “You’ve been avoiding me. Did I do something wrong?”

His words make me tense. “Jay, can we talk about this later? The others are sleeping.” I try to keep my voice quiet.

He moves at last, but not the way I want. He steps toward me. Instinctively, I step back.

My breath hitches when he enters the bathroom, swiftly turning around to shut the door behind him.

“Jay—w-what are you doing?” My voice trembles, my pulse racing at the thought of being alone with him in a closed space while I’m barely dressed.

“You’re not leaving until you tell me what I did wrong,” he says, arms crossing over his chest.

I exhale sharply, playing with my fingers, eyes glued to the floor. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why have you been avoiding me?”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

Jay steps closer.

“Stop,” I blurt, taking another step back. “D-don’t come near me. Please.”

His eyes search mine. “Why?”

I sigh, my shoulders dropping. It’s too awkward to tell him the truth. That I’ve been fantasizing about him. That’s why I’ve been keeping my distance.

“I’ve been… feeling weird lately,” I admit, barely above a whisper. “Especially around you.”

Jay watches me carefully. “What do you mean?”

I force myself to meet his gaze, inhaling deeply before confessing, “I’m ovulating.”

The second the words leave my mouth, I regret them. I shut my eyes, hating how vulnerable I feel.

Silence.

I peek through my lashes to find him smirking. His lips curl into that maddeningly smug grin, his expression laced with amusement.

“Are you masturbating to the thought of me?”

My breath catches. My whole body stiffens.

Jay steps forward, closing the distance between us inch by inch.

“Jay…” My voice is shaky, betraying my rising panic—and something else I refuse to name.

His gaze darkens with mischief. “Are you having nasty thoughts about me?”

I keep retreating until my back meets the sink. There’s nowhere left to go.

“Jay,” I breathe, barely able to get the words out. “D-don’t come any closer.” My hands lift instinctively, a feeble attempt to stop him.

His smirk only deepens. “Why?” His voice drops to a husky murmur. “I can help you. But you have to tell me exactly what you want.”

I stop breathing altogether.

“Jay.”

“Yes, Isabella?”

The way he says my name—slow, deliberate, seductive—sends a shiver down my spine.

He never calls me by my full name. Never.

It’s always Isa like the rest of the group. Or Bella, when he’s feeling playful.

But Isabella?

That’s new.

And it’s dangerous.

I feel wetness slowly dripping between my thighs as I instinctively press them together. My breathing is uneven, and before I even realize it, Jay has already closed the remaining distance between us.

His hands gently cradle my face, tilting it upward so our eyes meet. “Aw, look at you… so red,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with amusement. “It must be really hard, huh?” His smirk deepens, clearly satisfied with the effect he has on me. Now, it’s his turn to tease, to watch me squirm.

Annoyed, I slap his hand away. “S-stop playing with me,” I stammer, turning my head to avoid his gaze.

“Who said I was playing?” he counters, gripping my chin and forcing me to look at him again.

His voice is low, teasing, dripping with control. “Tell me… how can I help you?” His lips hover just inches from mine, and I know he’s enjoying every second of my struggle. He knows exactly what I want—he just wants to hear me beg for it.

“I-I need you,” I breathe, leaning in, desperate to close the distance between us. But he pulls back at the last second, his smirk widening. He loves this. Loves watching me writhe, loves making me desperate.

“What do you need me to do, Bella?” His voice is a taunt, a challenge.

I let out a shaky sigh, surrendering to the inevitable. “I need you to fuck me… please.” My voice is barely above a whisper, but it’s all he was waiting for.

His smirk turns predatory. “Took you long enough to say it,” he murmurs before crashing his lips against mine.

The kiss is messy, desperate—our first, but I don’t care. His hand slides down my back, pulling me against him as we devour each other, tongues tangling, teeth grazing. My hands grip the sink behind me, my knees weak, barely holding me up.

I’m already addicted—to the taste of him, to the way his lips move against mine, to the heat radiating from his body.

He pulls away, leaving us both breathless, but he doesn’t stop. His mouth moves to my neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses, sucking, teasing. A moan escapes my lips before I can stop it, and in embarrassment, I slap a hand over my mouth.

Jay halts immediately, his darkened gaze locking onto mine. He reaches up, prying my hand away. “Don’t hide those pretty little noises from me,” he murmurs.

His fingers move to the knot of my bathrobe, untying it with excruciating slowness before sliding the fabric off my shoulders. It pools at my feet, leaving me bare before him.

His eyes finally break away from mine, traveling down my body. I watch as his pupils dilate, his jaw tightening. His gaze is hungry, devouring every inch of my exposed skin—from my round breasts and hardened nipples to my wide hips and thick thighs.

I shiver as his fingertips ghost over my stomach, tracing a slow path upward until he cups one of my breasts. A soft groan escapes me at the sensation, and he watches, fascinated, as my chest rises and falls under his touch.

His thumb brushes over my nipple, rolling it between his fingers, sending a bolt of pleasure straight to my core. My thighs press together instinctively, desperate for friction.

“W-why are you acting like that? Haven’t you ever seen a—ahh—a woman’s body before?” My voice is shaky, my breaths uneven.

He smirks, his hands kneading my breasts, applying just the right amount of pressure. “No, I haven’t.” His voice is calm, but there’s something darker beneath it.

I let out a breathy chuckle. “Y-yeah, I… ahh… I kinda figured.”

His head tilts slightly, amused. “Oh?”

“You’re always so irritated,” I manage between gasps, my body arching into his touch. “I just assumed it’s ‘cause you’re a virgin… and you just needed to get fucked.”

He chuckles at my state—flustered, desperate, unraveling under his touch. But instead of responding, he pinches my nipples, drawing a strangled moan from my lips.

“I find it funny how you’re still being a brat,” he muses, “when I’m here to help you.”

Then, without warning, he leans down, capturing one of my nipples in his mouth. A sharp gasp leaves me as he sucks, his tongue flicking, teasing, driving me insane.

I’m losing myself in the pleasure, my body greedy for more. “You can play with my body another time,” I pant, barely able to form words. “Just hurry up and get this done before someone wakes up.”

Jay pulls back slightly, licking his lips, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “So… you’re planning on doing this again?”

Realizing what I’ve implied, I quickly look away. “Shut up and hurry up.”

He chuckles again, the sound deep and rich, before I feel his hands leave my breasts. When I glance down, my stomach tightens—he’s sinking to his knees, eyes never leaving mine.

A thrill of anticipation runs through me as he lifts one of my legs, placing it over his shoulder. My heart pounds when I realize how close his mouth is to my dripping heat.

“Y-you don’t have to do that,” I stammer. “Just go straight to—ahh!”

My sentence is cut short as his tongue flicks over my clit, a low groan vibrating against me. The sensation sends a shockwave through my body, making me moan.

What starts as soft, teasing licks quickly turns into a full-blown assault on my pussy. His tongue moves with precision, alternating between slow, sensual strokes and intense, desperate sucking.

“Jay~ ah! Jay~ ngh! Please!” I can’t control the words spilling from my lips, my head thrown back as pleasure overtakes me.

His grip tightens on my thigh as his tongue dips lower, teasing my entrance before sliding inside. His fingers replace his tongue on my clit, rubbing circles that have my legs trembling.

A wave of pleasure crashes over me, unlike anything I’ve ever felt. My fingers tangle in his hair, my hips moving against his mouth, desperate for more. “Fuck, it’s so good!”

Then, without warning, he slides two fingers inside me.

I cry out, the sudden intrusion sending a jolt of sharp pleasure through my core. He doesn’t wait for me to adjust—his fingers pump into me, curling, stretching, filling.

I’m overwhelmed, completely at his mercy, my walls fluttering around his digits. The coil in my stomach tightens, my breaths turning ragged.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chant mindlessly, gripping his hair harder as my body starts to tremble. The pressure builds higher and higher, an unstoppable force surging through me.

“Jay—ahh! I’m—I’m gonna—ngh!”

My orgasm crashes over me, violent and all-consuming. My body jerks, pleasure detonating in my veins as I come undone around his fingers.

But he doesn’t stop.

Instead, he continues—licking, sucking, fucking me through the aftershocks. My body twitches, my nerves overstimulated.

“Ja—Jay, stop, stop! I can’t take it anymore!” My voice is high, desperate, as I try to push his head away.

But he just smirks against me, completely ignoring my pleas.

Because Jay doesn’t give a fuck if we get caught.

Eventually, I stop feeling any movement inside me—the friction of his fingers, the warmth of his tongue on my clit. He withdraws his hand, and I hear the slick sound of him licking his fingers. My head is tilted back as I try to regain my senses, so I can’t see what he’s doing, but I can picture it in my mind. The thought alone sends a shiver through me.

Slowly, he stands, taking his time to admire my body. When I lift my head, I find his eyes locked onto mine.

"Where did you learn to do that?" I ask, struggling to believe he’s really a virgin after what he just did.

"YouTube tutorial," he replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, pulling down his joggers.

I watch, my gaze trailing down to where his erection strains against his boxers.

"Yeah, right," I scoff, rolling my eyes at his broken humor.

"I'm just naturally good at this," he says, his dark eyes never leaving mine as he slides his boxers down, revealing his thick, veiny length. My breath catches. How is that supposed to fit inside me?

"Wait, we don’t have condoms," I say, snapping back to reality as he steps closer, his bare chest now fully exposed. He’s fit—lean, toned, perfect.

"I’ll pull out before I cum," he assures me, positioning himself between my legs.

His gaze flickers down to my chest, rising and falling with my heavy breathing, before meeting my eyes again. He can tell I’m nervous. But I’m not scared—at least, not in the way he thinks. I’m more excited than anything, overwhelmed by the anticipation of something so unfamiliar.

"Do you want to keep going?" he asks, his voice softer now.

I swallow hard. "Yes. Keep going."

But he still doesn’t seem convinced, so I lean forward, capturing his lips in a deep kiss. When I pull away, I whisper again, more confidently this time, "Keep going."

"Alright, but this time, try not to be too loud—"

"Hey, you’re—"

Before I can finish, he presses forward, the thick head of his cock stretching me open.

"Ah," I gasp, my body instinctively clenching around him.

It hurts, of course—just like any girl's first time—but the need for him overshadows the pain.

"Does it hurt?" Jay groans, his voice strained as if he’s holding himself back.

"Just a little, but I’m fine. Keep going."

He sinks deeper, my walls fluttering helplessly around him. I bite my lip hard, my gums aching from how tightly I clench my teeth.

A low, guttural moan escapes him. "Can you—ah… can you try not to clench so much?" His eyes remain shut, his brows furrowed as if he's using every ounce of willpower to keep himself together.

"S-Sorry, I-I can’t control it… but I’ll try."

He pushes in further, stretching me open inch by inch. The more he fills me, the harder it is to breathe.

By the time he’s fully inside me, I can feel his cock twitching slightly, making me clench around him even more. His breath is shaky against my ear as he wraps one arm behind my back, pulling me closer while his other hand keeps my leg hooked around his waist.

We stay like this for a moment, giving me time to adjust—or maybe giving him time to focus, to keep from losing control too soon.

I feel his warm breath ghosting over my skin. "Jay… y-you can start moving now," I murmur, my hips rocking unconsciously to create some friction.

Instead of answering, he straightens, his arm still bracing my back as he slowly thrusts forward.

"Ah," I moan, louder than I intended, before quickly covering my mouth.

I try to stay quiet, but it’s impossible. The way he moves—the way he fills me—makes it feel too good. Too good.

"Fuck, you’re clenching so much," he groans, voice tight with restraint.

"Mmnh… fuck, fuck, fuck," I whimper under my breath.

Jay suddenly lifts my other leg, leaving me completely at his mercy. The new angle makes him reach deeper, thrusting faster, harder, hitting a spot inside me that makes it absolutely impossible to keep quiet.

"Jay! Jay!" I whimper, feeling an intense, familiar pressure building deep in my core.

"Yes, Bella," he groans, voice raw, his thrusts growing more desperate. His cock twitches inside me.

"Don’t stop—I’m going to cum~" I cry, my walls spasming violently around him.

"Fuck—I-I’m not planning on stopping, Bella," he rasps, pounding into me a few more times before I shatter around him, pleasure crashing over me in waves.

My body shakes from the intensity, but he doesn’t stop—he keeps fucking me through it, chasing his own release.

"J-Jay—too m-much," I whimper, my body twitching from overstimulation.

"I—I know, I’m sorry. I’m about to cu—ah—ah," he groans, pulling out at the last second.

His breath stutters as he strokes himself frantically, his release spilling hot and thick across my stomach. His head drops against my shoulder, both of us struggling to catch our breath.

"Do you still think my dick is small?" he asks after a moment, a teasing smirk creeping onto his face.

"Yes. Very much," I lie, refusing to feed his ego.

He chuckles, lifting his head. "Ngh, so big," he mimics, tilting his head with a playful smirk. "Isn’t that what you said?"

"Shut up," I mumble, smacking his arm lightly, making him laugh.

Suddenly, he hooks his hands under my thighs, lifting me effortlessly.

"What are you doing?" I yelp.

"We’re taking a shower," he says simply, carrying me toward the bathroom.

Once inside, he sets me down gently before turning on the water. The warm spray cascades over us as he grabs a washcloth, squirting body wash onto it before rubbing it across my skin, cleaning away the sweat and the mess he left on my stomach.

His touch is slow, deliberate, almost tender. And as he moves the cloth over me, I can’t help but think—I never expected this from him.

And yet, I never want it to stop.

[comfortyart]

I'm really curious how Fen, Solas, and Dorian first got together. Did two of them come first and a third joined later? How did they approach the conversation?

Ok I’m sorry this will probably be long winded, rambly, also just messily written - and, despite the fact that this moment is my planned next one shot about them - there are just so many moving parts that actually lead to them getting together.

Throwing this under a break because it's so long

When they were at Haven, there was some tension between Solas and Fen. Despite Fen’s best and continued efforts, Solas is very short with him at the beginning, a lot of it relating to Fen being a grey warden. On the other hand, from the moment Fen and Dorian lock eyes, it's flirting. They make easy friends, Dorian very taken by Fen’s happy-to-help golden retriever like personality, trauma bonded by the happenings of In Hushed Whispers and easily spending a lot of time together. Leading up to Skyhold, Solas starts taking to Fen’s late night “questionings”. If Solas considers Fen uneducated, he was going to ask and learn as much as he could. It’s true he didn’t have many opportunities to get “book smart” (he is precious), but he loves to learn, and we all know how much Solas loves to embark wisdom. So there they are, every evening - and to Solas’ surprise, Fen is very responsive to his teachings. He clearly considers everything he’s told, utilizes it in making decisions moving forward, and comes back with new questions. And before long he finds himself drawn to the way Fen navigates day-to-day. Perhaps he judged too soon, I mean, Fen can be and is foolish at times, but he sees how Fen uses the knowledge he’s given, and suddenly he’s hooked.  This turns into late evenings with the three of them as they all grow closer throughout the timeline of the game. Fen enjoys watching Solas and Dorian debate, likes watching Solas paint while Dorian reads beside him on the couch. Sometimes they’re both just listening to Fen yap about darkspawn or a weird looking tree he saw earlier that day while they sit around the fire. Its not really anything particularly even intimate, though it is to them to some extent because they don’t spend much time alone with anyone else - and they all sort of become inseparable- EVEN after Fen and Solas get together.

Dorian isn’t surprised. Even in their flirting he knew Fen was taken with Solas from before they’d met. And Dorian, who had spent a lot of time alone without really anyone close to him, was content to just have two people he held dearly, even if his heart was unfortunately growing more attached by the day. He sort of feels bad about it too, they’re a couple, but he’s always there.

And then, Fen starts hearing the false calling. And by and then, I mean, he’s been hearing it for a while - but its getting worse. He is all but inconsolable one evening, and Solas and Dorian are looking at each other not sure what to do. I mean what CAN they do right? They're just as horrified. And...We can ignore the added layer of Solas and his fuck this is all in a round about way my fault situation for now LOL

Following Here lies the Abyss, Solas and Dorian are sort of high alert, a bit more attentive, not that Fen needs it, but more in a way they were woken up to how important this idiot had become to them. They felt like they could lose him to this, selfishly, ignoring what the loss of Fen could do to the world, but now horrified at the idea of losing him - generally.

And It’s not long after this, a close encounter leads Fen to a near death experience by an ambush. Dorian and Solas are so panicked they can’t leave his side, and without ever verbally asking, they’re both with each other like a crutch - now both seemingly living through the fear they were really going to lose Fen.

It was traumatic, and Solas refuses to let Dorian leave his side, like he truly believes it may break him to deal with this crushing fear alone. When Fen finally wakes, Dorian’s relief is suddenly hit with the realization that he is not to them what they are to each other. Suddenly like the world is being crushed amongst the happiness Fen isn’t dead, he is quick to say he’s sorry for always being in their space and that he’d try to give them more alone time since he didn’t want to ever take the precious time they have together away from them.

Solas shuts it down, fast. A few glances between him and Fen and it’s a confession. Fen and Solas had been falling for Dorian, and were convinced he’d want no part, and so settled to always having him in their space. It was emotional, for so many reasons, and a lot of tears, and it became impossible to tear them apart for the next fortnight. 

[haveihitanerve]

Le Ingredients: Papa needs to calm- Papa needs- papa-oy..

Hope you enjoy this insanity as much as I did! Lets go!:

“Should we just start off with ingredients?” I love it soo so so much when they turn to each other and ask, because usually the person who introduces the idea of the long form just has final say because they’re the ones talking(and they know each other well enough at this point to know which titles would make a good story for them/the others to develop) but i still love seeing them actually ask its so cute

“Thats how you start a recipe lets do it!” Damn Sam, thats so smooth. I forget sometimes this is their job lol

“Damn hes good.” lol exactly!

“All i need from you to get us started is- is some forced applause okay?” LMAOO TOM

“Thats why I married you.” AJ: *blinks. Pause. Ok sam. ok.* LMAOOO he did not see that coming

“I love you so much.” Lunges for Sam and kisses him so well he has to take a moment to recover is crazzyyyy XD

“Papa gets stressed.” Grins because he knows- he fucking knowss what he’s doing

“Papa needs to calm down.” Now Sam is in on it, even coming up behind ooohhh this is not how quickly i expected this to go-no complaints tho

“Papa needa calm- papa-oy-” Oh AJ did not expect Sam to go along lmaooo its too much for him

“I gave the 4-5 to.. James.. And *searches mind palace for another name* Tiffany.” XD

“ITALY!!!” *goes for a high five, gives Sam .2 seconds to reciprocate and gives up* “OkaY!!...”

“I love you.” “i love you too.” SAM FUCKING WINKS FUCKING WHAT. oh my gods… im going insane wow ok…

(also the absolutely no reaction from AJ, just a slight smile is killing me he was completely prepared for Sam to wink and acted like it happens on the daily and oh my gods)

*gasps dramatically* is Aj calling a side chick rn? No Aj! Bad AJ! Please give us a happy relationship…

Sam answering the phone XD

“She is gone is she? Where?” “I think to the toilet.” AJ… “is that what she said?” Sam is flabbergasted as to how AJ already forgot XD

Oh no, ok so AJ is planning something, what no one knows, not even him, but hes not cheating on his wife so we’re all good

“You need to bet in the papers.” “Did you say bet in the papers?” “No i said get in the papers.” mhm… sure Sam. sure. Also, thanks for giving us an actual plot of what aj is attempting to do???

AJ hanging up and then resuming his excellent stage craft of making food while waiting for either someone to join him or to end the scene- his little smile is so cute because he cant do anything unless someone else joins him XD

Sam just fucking screeching and AJ’s little jolt of surprise

[continuous cries of pain and choking for a disturbingly long time]

Tom sitting right next to Sam just :D watching to see what AJ’ll do next without bothering to move to help either one at all XD

AJ slowly breaking, a small smile, little flinch when Sam screams renewed, and shoulders shaking, while Tom props his arm up, classic Tom pose with his fingers over his mouth as he watches, they're so cute

*he is still going btw*

“HOT HOT! HOT! HOOOOOOTTT!” oh so he has words now, nice

[renewed cries of pain and??? drowning???]

[that also go on for a very long time and then eventually, slooowwwwlllllyyyyy die down]

Tom breaking and looking at Sam like “you good? You about done now?” 🫠😭

AJ taking a breath because its finally done

Sam: AUGH!! AJ: *pulls out a shotgun and fucking shoots him*

Sam himself finally ending the scene wth XD

Tom standing up resignedly as AJ finally gets to laugh off stage about Sam being weird 

“Morning chief.” Tom did not want that to be his character, as we can tell by his little sigh and AJ’s/Sam’s laughter at him. “Good morning.” why does he sound russian/like a vampire

“Any weird crimes happen yesterday?” Tom does his classic “ehhhhh.” nod. Love love love

“I've been up all night, its-” “what exactly happened?” AJ and Sam having shit eating grins because they made everything happen and are now forcing Tom to come up with the actual concrete details of the plot because they’re little shits like that XD

“I've only had time to watch it three times, it kept going y'know?” Shade thrown Sam’s way, very nicely done, and still being very obscure because he doesn't wanna build the plot lmaooo

“You know… you know octopuses?” Tom w h a t. Sam’s confused chuckle before he covers it because Tom. w h a t. 

“My story is always straight.👹” turns demonic for a second. Sam:... ok weird thing to say…

“So they serve octopus, paeiella.” …what. “Sorry?” Even Sam is knocked off guard. 

“Its a spanish dish.” “yeah.” Sam got that part. “Paella?” He knows what its called. “Octo- Let me finish why are you interrupting?” yes, act offended, perfect

“Shut your tiny mouth down.” even weirder thing to say but i dig it, keep going

“And thats not very nice, you know Im very insecure about the size of my mouth.” lmaooo Sam making it personal

“Its a small mouth are we meant to pretend?” Tom is not gonna let anything go, got it. “Meant to pretend its a normal sized mouth?” 

“okay come on lets move on.” Sam attempting to move the plot along

“Its dainty.” Tom not letting that happen “we like it, but its dainty.” Aj just grinning from off stage because he doesn't have to worry about plot or saying words properly

“So theres this octopus, and its in the paeilia.” (autocorrect tried to spell it correctly, but no, this is how tom spells it so this is how we spell it)

Sam folding, Aj laughing, and Tom being confused and defensive, amazing

“Cant pronounce that word, can you?” XD poor tom…

“PAIEALLLA!!!” Yes Tom, saying it louder means you are correct

“Paella.” That, strangely enough, autocorrect didn't want to change… suspicious

“Nooooo….” tom XD help-

“Im saying it the italiano way.” “oh I see. Wrong.” DAMN SAM!!! DAMN XD

“Anyway, octopus paella-” “octopus paeylla.” Tom- Aj loosing it on the side and Sam having to lean away, folding again. LMAOOO as Tom just stands there, like “what?” XD

“You sound like every time you say it, like you're having a mini stroke.” Sam will not let this go- also i've seen clips of this scene before and wow it goes on much longer than i believed lmaooo

AJ trying to recover and loosing it again when Sam says “mini stroke’ bending over fully and smacking his leg, amazing

“I will.. Get someone else.” now thats a threat. I think he means just in general, replacing Sam with a new improv group XD

“The other can do this just as well.” Aj your position off stage and not in the scene is being threatened. 

“What- you've just drawn an octopus so far. How does that *breaks, finally and laughs* help? I don't need pictograms *AJ cackling as he folds again, Sam trying to recover but failing* its not fucking ancient egypt.” this is glorious how did Tom manage to turn the tides on sam when its not even fucking real what hes doing LMAOOO XD

“Octopus- *disgruntled and aggressive glare at sam* paella.” Sam: *cheeky shit smirks and hold up a finger*-better!

“I work so hard.” we see you tom, we know, keep up the good work. 

“Octopus paeialla” he was so close!

“An octopus dish.” they have taken all the wind from his sails lmaooo

“Yum this delicious.. dish.”  poor baby XD

“I got to the big deal and you're just cutting off me!!!!!!” tom, where are these english degrees thats not proper word positioning in a sentence tsk tsk lol

“Were going back to the start!” Angry tom. “Octopus paeilla.” hes given up on all of them XD

“By the paella or by the octopus?” sam knew what he was trying to say and is just making life hard at this point XD and we love him for it

“AHHHHHH!” tom is ready to strangle him XD

*long winded explanation that periodically is interrupted by Tom *wiggle arms* and Aj laughing* and the woman is dead.  Well that wrapped up nicely…

“Si.” “Si?” “... yes.” Sam is just fucking with him now XD “Si. Yes.” *Tom is going insane* “what?” his little arm flaps at Sam hes so confused and concerned XD 

Meanwhile AJ: *loosing it offstage*

“Why are you questioning me?” I love the way he suddenly inhaled helium and is eight octaves higher, adore

“I think, open and shut case.” “octopus breaks into restaurant, *Aj’s giggle* hides into a paella, *deep breath* and then strangles *Tom: paeilla* (tom baby no) a woman.” “Si. ANd fire.” yes, yes Sam, don't forget the fire. 

“Maybe the octopus did it, i don't fucking know.” Sam is just done lmaoo

“Dina, dina come in.” AJ’s nod at Sam that ‘yes, you are dina, my wife, come here’ and Tom being extra “ill leave.” 

“Really?” Sam is shocked lmaooo, so much so he forgets his accent XD

“Why are the italians so fucking mental.” lmaooo- Translation: why are you two idiots so fucking mental, cant we have a normal fucking skit for once

“Its- is terrible.” Brilliant acting Aj, 10/10, everyone believes that you think its terrible

“Babi-” did he forget the name or is this his italian pet name for his wife? 

AJ’s smile and his correction- “dina” reveals the first(or its his weird italian way of saying “babe” or smth but nobody got it so he had to clarify lol)

“You only call me Babi when you're lying.” 

“This is your restaurant.” “yes?” aj is unaware how this is relevant. “This is so far very much within your wheelhouse.” LMAOOO

Aj’s hand still on Sam’s shoulder🫠

“Where would I find an octopus-” “you're a chef! Its one of the ingredients-!” Sam is loosing it XD

“But where would I find an octopus that has the ability to strangle someone and set itself on fire. *starts grinning* its so stupid.” It is indeed, and we love it

“I know about your circus past.” DAMN! The way AJ’s smile dropped so fast is incredible holy shit

“Don't you ever-” Both Sam and AJ break with laughter because honestly, what is this storyline XD

“The english mafia.” AJ fighting a smile🫠😭

*pulls out his actual, genuine iphone* look at this, Starling Bank *grins* What number does it say, from last nights revenue. Say it out loud.” AJ forcing Sam to create this, beautiful XD

Sam actually doing something on AJ’s phone lol, so sweet

“Two-” “two million euros.” Said in unison while grinning at each other- ill be right back let me just go cry in the corner-

Tom: *stands, ready to join the scene* Sam: the octopus! Tom: *look of disappointment and annoyance the way only good friends can convey with a single look*

All three of them laughing at the joke together im gonna cry theyre so cute

Tom’s head tilt- sobbing🫠

“No stop it!” Aj has to step in to defend him XD

Sam still losing it at his own joke while Tom just stares at him, done

“Let him be the character he wanted to be!” AJ!!! help- XD

“Do you have something to mention on the octopus. *voice shaking with laughter* whoever you may be.” Tom: *just starts fucking honking????* XD LMAOO

“Me and my comically large feet.” Puts foot up on chair where AJ’s hand was a second ago, moves it away before he places it because he saw it coming. Almost loses his balance- Sams hand snaps up and stabilizes him as Aj grabs the chair and his foot😭*sobs in the corner in i want their friendship*

THE WAY SAMS PHONE TURNS OFF RIGHT AS TOM SNAPS IS INSANEE

“Is he a clown or magician?” Tom: *eyes light up in idea* both! *fwish* flowers? Tom stop being sweet to AJ’s wife, this isn't a cheating story.. Also- the true magic is that hes wearing short sleeves, so he pulled the flowers out of his wrists… 

“Its a bird!” thank you for sharing Tom XD

The way they're all standing in like a triangle just periodically smiling at each other when they’re not the ones actively participating in the scene is too cute

“They have magicians at the circus right?” Noooot… really, but now really isn't the time to ask, that would have been like… a few seconds ago lol

Sam and AJ laughing, Sam releasing air like a balloon while AJ just chuckles, staring at tom incredulously like “you're asking this now??” and Tom just smiles and goes “yeahh.” and i love that for all of them

“This marriage is over!” NOOOO “No!” Sam: :) Si. LMAOO

“Remember,” Aj dropping a few inches in height just so Tom seems even taller is crazy mental and i love him for it

“The big top always comes out.. On top.” AJ’s surprised burst of a laugh is everything to me, including his little victorian hand over the mouth

Tom backing up while making clown honk noises and AJ tries desperately not to laugh

“Its like seven in the afternoon.” Tom: *really?* seven in the afternoon? Thats why!

“Im sorry, I’ve been up all night with duolingo trying to learn spanish words,*sam’s slow growing joy as the sentence progresses, AJ’s laugh in the back* apparently my pronunciation is terrible.” LMAOO Tom never change XD

Tom ever so casually just shutting the door in Sam’s face as he starts to ramble is a power move and also crazy

“I thought we could do this bit off stage because its really just… *flaps arms tiredly* they already know.” Sam laughs and does, in fact, end the scene lol

“Dmitri!” Tom: *speaks Russian gibberish back* AJ: *pauses, did not expect that, has to smile* don't speak russian! Fuckin- *cant think of something not xenophobic to say*-do it now!

“I have a successful restaurant-” Tom comes fucking floating in like hes the Ghost of Somerset past or smth weird like that..

AJ: *bamboozled but keeps talking, glancing at Tom like ‘what do you want now’* they're all so tired and done with each other its absolutely amazing

Tom weirdly hugging Aj… its just cute even if its weird…anyway…

“My name is.. Uh…” AJ not sure if hes been given a name, if he has a name, if he can come up with a name, or if waiters even introduce themselves. They don't, especially not if hes just serving food and not there to just grab orders, but he’s realizing that slowly XD

“I wanted some of your… paillllaa.” Tom, just… keep trying bud, you're doing great. Sam’s laugh off stage is amazing too

“You are under arrest.” AJ’s smile of ‘wow okay already? We moved fast tom, but ok..” “on suspicion of octopus” Tom, never change XD

“And we will kill no more women in here.” Sam and AJ having a stare down while Tom does a fourth wall break, iconic as always

“Everybody hear that? So, if any of you were thinking of doing a murder, n- you cant!” and thats- thats final!!! So says Tom! lmaooo

“I've got one last ingredient for you” *does stagecraft of taking off a ring, but maybe thats not obvious enough* “my wedding ring.” Tom: *nope we cant have that* thats actually contraband… so.. 

All of them cracking at Tom’s last joke

Also the way Tom was still cradling AJ’s hands… 😭

AND SCENE

ANyway this was absolutely delightful, loved the delightful arguing, the... i dont wanna say eye-fucking because they weren't doing that, maybe eye-shitting-on-each-other?? anyways it was amazing as always, they're too fucking cute and I love

This is also one of the first skits I've seen where AJ is equally as done with Sam and Tom as they are with him, and its delightful lmaoo

@dawn-speckled thank you for the rec! @snek-of-eden

[squidsinashirt]

I saw your post about your dad and loved it, very good answer! But wanted to ask, if you’re okay with answer - what about your eldest brother?

Oh boy. That’s well timed, Anon…

(And under the influence of meds, this should be good. I see a delete in my future…)

Ahem.

What about @scramjettracy ? (That username is so appropriate…)

Shoe size? Too big.

Sense of humour? Awful.

Clothing choices? Woeful, owns too many blue shirts.

Okay, okay. I do get the question, I promise.

What about Scott Carpenter Tracy…

I think I would start by saying it would be really easy to just take a lot of what I said about Dad and apply it to Scott - about living your life around legacies and legends, and trying to figure out how that all fits together.

I mean, he’s THE Scott Tracy. Golden eldest son, CEO of Tracy Industries, Commander of International Rescue, dashing hero and pilot of Thunderbird One. Veteran, Boy Scout, brother, son, grandson. Living legend, that guy.

And he deserves it. He’s every bit as brave and courageous and forthright and principled as all the vids make him out to be. If you’re in need of help, it’s that grey baldric you want to see coming. There’s nothing he can’t do, and nothing he won’t do.

And if you can be JEFFTRACYSSON then you can most definitely be SCOTTTRACYSBROTHER. Happens frequently.

I guess too what I said about trying to become the sort of man that earns that birthright also fits. A lot of looking in the mirror and reflecting on your own character and achievements. Making sure before you claim to be something, you’ve earnt it.

Dad would love that kind of accolade. I mean, he was an astronaut, for crying out loud, they’re hardly shy and retiring types these days. Their reputation, and ego, proceed them. Dad would love to know that he’s still such a cornerstone in my life.

That’s not Scott. If you’ve ever met my brother, you’d know from one conversation that is the furthest statement from the truth you could make about him. And that’s where the comparison becomes pretty unfair.

Scott will absolutely hate reading those last couple of paragraphs and he’ll have an earful for me if he sees this.

And if International Rescue was Dad’s dream, then I guess that makes it Scott’s life work. I mean, a dream’s all well and good but… it takes a lot more than that to get it off the ground and running. For iR, that ‘lot more’ is Scott. There would be no International Rescue without Scott, end of story.

Again, I suppose there’s a private side to it too.

Listen, my Dad was… mh. Yeah. I loved him, everything I said before is absolutely true, but… well, it’s complicated.

For a lot of my memories as a young teenager, Dad was grieving. It’s not a free pass, it’s just a fact. He spent a lot of time in his own mind. That’s where the Thunderbirds were born, that’s not a part time commitment.

Scott picked up the pieces, in a lot of ways. Yeah, we had Grandma but… look, we were five little boys who’d lost their mother, and then five slightly older boys who lost their father. I mean, Scott was younger than I am now when we lost Dad… and he was the same age as I was when we lost Dad, when we lost Mom.

Scott still filled both those shoes, without anyone really giving him the choice. He was already buckling up Dad’s long before the crash.

I mean, sure my Dad cheered loudest at my swimming competitions. But it was Scott dragging me out of my bed, packing my swim kit, sitting memorising gym regimes and diets and ready with a pep talk when last minute nerves hit right before I won my gold.

My dad told the best bedtime stories, but it was Scott’s bed we all snuck into at night when it got a little too dark or a little too windy.

Dad let me drive his truck, but it was Scott who made me take driving lessons, any lessons, who made me apply for college and hounded me about my work. After the crash, after the last incident, every time I’ve ended up in casts and braces and slings, it’s Scott that’s pushed me and been the one at my bedside. Some things never change.

Dad made amazing pancakes, but Scott’s are better - he makes ‘em vegan for me too.

Dad and I might have pranked Mom together, but it was Scott who made birthday cards with us, and picked her favourite flowers, and it was Scott who held Alan and I’s hands at her funeral.

And maybe it’s only as I get older that I start to appreciate, start to get an idea, just what Scott gave up to be there for us. I guess you start to reflect on the experiences you have had and compare to the experiences that he had, and start to take stock of it all as each year passes. I know he wouldn’t want me to feel guilty for it, but… well. I guess it’s hard not to. To wonder now and again what he’d have done, if he’d been given the freedom to chose and not saddled with us…

Don’t get me wrong, he can still be a total dick - he spends far too long in the bathroom on his hair and he is the most competitive cheater player at Risk. He is overprotective to the nth degree, and he gives himself grey hairs about us. We’re still brothers, fyi, and we live together.

We’re also more alike than either of us will ever freely admit to, and sometimes that’s not for the better when tempers start to fray. If there’s an argument to be had in the Tracy household, you’ve got a 98% chance it’s us.

But I think we feel… I feel… very protective of him. He’d hate that, he’ll groan and roll his eyes at it and insist it’s not true but… we do. I do. It’s hard to watch the big brother you love so much put in front of the world’s stage to criticise, especially when everyone else sees about 5% of him, and makes assumptions. The rest of us get to hide behind being part of International Rescue but Scott is iR. There’s no shying away from that, and there’s no off switch.

But… yeah.

Anyway. Rambling again. Pain meds. Gonna stop there.

I guess in summary - if I’m proud to be Jeff Tracy’s son, then I’m even more proud to be Scott Tracy’s brother… and there’s a reason he gets a present on Father’s Day.