#Nightmare in Savannah

[graphicpolicy]

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[balladofareader]

I had a thought...that maybe Lyra's dad isn't dead. This may not make sense because I had this thought at night, BUT MAYBE???!!! Like, his face was blown up so, who could tell it was really him?

[emdotcom]

🎃 You get brownie points if you give me details ...

[danswank]

[dreamcatch22]

Here is my latest movie review for Birmingham Public Library. It is about Dream Scenario and all the insanity that unfolds in this movie.

[hotchner-edu]

The Bet | Aaron Hotchner

Synopsis: The team bets Aaron that he won't be able to find himself a date for Dave's annual summer barbecue. Little do they know, he's already got his eye on you.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x F!BAU!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Hotch being perfect

It's half past ten, the smell of paper and brewing coffee permeates through the bullpen, and your eyes were narrowed at the small little circle surrounding Emily's desk.

"Okay, I'll bite. What are we talking about?" You finally lean over to ask, rolling your eyes fondly when Derek flashes a mischievous grin at you. He had been giving you numerous glances over the past ten minutes to try and draw your attention, possessing the giddiness and subtly of a puppy.

"Rossi's barbecue is next week." Emily muses, a bright glint in her eyes.

You nod slowly and cautiously, not sure what you were walking into. "Right..." you drag the word out a bit. "And? What are you planning? You only have that kind of smile when you're up to something, Em."

"Well, Rossi's making plus one's mandatory this year." Derek says with a sly grin, crossing his arms as he leans back against Emily's desk.

You raise your eyebrows and glance to Spencer. "Oh? And we're all in agreement with this new rule?"

"I believe Rossi's exact words were 'you people need to get out more,' so..." Emily laughs softly, shrugging as if his words had become law.

Spencer frowns a little and nods. "He also said that it would be good to bring someone we actually like and know because 'a man who doesn't spend time with his family can never be a real man.'"

"Did Rossi really just quote the fucking Godfather at us." You deadpan and glance over to Emily who raises her hands up and shrugs again. "Okay, fine. Now I'm a bit scared to ask, but why are you guys laughing?"

Derek smiles brightly before answering with an amused tone. "Because this means Hotch has to bring a date too. Rossi's already made a bet with him that he won't be able to find a date, and we're all getting in on the action too. Losers owe a hundred each."

"Wow, Rossi's not wasting any time. So, what did you guys bet on?" You ask with a near unimpressed tone and raise an eyebrow.

Spencer glances between the three of you guys before giving you the Sparknotes version. "Well, the three of us are betting with Rossi. Penelope's still deciding, and we haven't gotten to JJ yet."

"Well, I'll bet you twenty that JJ decides to sit out on this. I mean, guys, please, are you all really convinced that Aaron Hotchner of all people can't score himself a date?" You raise your eyebrows, unimpressed by the wit of your three friends.

You have to refrain from speaking further, knowing it'd turn into a spiel of how attractive you thought your unit chief was. Plus, you weren't trying to deal with them profiling the HR nightmare-sized crush you harbored for Aaron.

"You're going against the grain, sweetheart?" Derek chuckles, lips tugged into an excited grin.

Emily shakes her head and interjects. "Okay, but there's no way he's going to be able to get a date before the party. He was hand delivered like two weeks worth of paperwork this morning."

"It's Hotch. He's full of surprises." You grin, glancing around the bustling bullpen. "And anyway, you guys already have dates?"

Derek clicks his tongue and nods with a pleased smirk. "Yep. You guys remember Savannah, right?"

"Oh yeah, I like her." Emily chimes in before groaning and leaning back in her chair. "Ugh, I don't know if my guy is going to be busy."

You shake your head and smile, teasing her with a sympathetic tone. "Well, if he has any sense, he'll drop whatever he's doing to come with you."

Emily flashes a grin at you, silently telling you that she'd talk to you later about outfit details. Spencer is lost in thought for a second before you see him frowning.

"Spence?" You ask slowly, tilting your head.

He hesitates for a moment before looking at the three of you. "Do you guys think Rossi will let me in without a date?"

"No." Rossi's voice suddenly rings out as he walks by, blowing on his steaming coffee to hide his grin as he beelines to his office.

Derek snickers and claps his hand over Spencer's shoulder. "There's your answer, kid."

Later that day, you're hunched over your desk and nursing your headache with a cup of tea as you read through some reports. Just as you were about to reread the paragraph you zoned out on, you hear your name being called.

Raising your head up and blinking away the blobs swimming across your vision, you see Aaron standing in front of his office door, hands on the railing as he eyes you. "My office."

Standing up slowly, you feel your muscles aching as you stretch a bit. When you've made your way into Aaron's office, you see him leaning back against his desk, arms crossed.

"Yes, sir?" You ask and slowly come to a stop in the middle of his office.

"You've heard about Dave's party next Saturday, yes?" He asks lowly, eyebrows drawn together.

Nodding in confusion, you wait for him to continue.

"And his terms for the night?"

"Uhm, yes, I have. Is this about the bet being made, sir?" You prod gently, wanting to know if he was trying to sleuth out who was betting what.

"Yes." He answers with an unyielding gaze, looking unsure of himself for a moment. "I was wondering if you had someone you were going to bring."

"Oh." You blush a little and smile smally. "No... A lot of us are still trying to find dates."

Aaron huffs in amusement and nods. "Yeah, Dave's really stepping on our necks this year."

"He just wants an excuse to cook more, I'm sure." You chuckle softly.

"It wouldn't be the first time..." He smiles before clearing his throat and straightening up again. "Well, I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me that evening as my plus one." He says, looking at you gently.

It feels like the wind is being knocked out of you as you stare at him owlishly. "Me?" You ask dumbly.

"Yes, it's okay if you would prefer not to though, I know this is very sudden." He reassures you.

Blinking rapidly, you see the slightest bit of pink creeping across his ears. "Oh, no, I would love to be your date for the party." You answer quickly, not wanting to let the opportunity slip through your fingers.

"Really?" He says with a bit of relief, the stress immediately dissipating from his face.

You nod and smile shyly, fiddling with your fingers. "Yes. I'm happy that you thought of me."

Aaron nods back and tries to compose himself a bit. "Of course... and I'm happy that you agreed."

Grinning softly at him, you chuckle a bit. "Well, I'll call you this weekend so we can settle the details, if that's okay..."

"That's perfect." He answers quickly, his eyes warm and filled with an indistinguishable emotion.

"Great! Well, I'll, uh, leave you to it then." You slowly back out of the room, shooting him a reassuring smile and fleeing back to your desk in disbelief.

When the night of Rossi's party finally turns up, you're anxiously pacing around your apartment, checking your outfit for the fifth time. Aaron had insisted on picking you up, ever the gentleman.

Time trickles by slowly, and when you finally hear a gentle knock on your door, you're practically flying toward it. Checking the peephole for a split second, you swing the door open and your eyes immediately dart down to the bouquet of roses in Aaron's hand.

"Oh!" You sputter out in shock, taking a moment to gather yourself. "Wow, they're beautiful. Thank you..." Blushing brightly, you smile as he hands you the bouquet.

"You look beautiful." He speaks gently, but his gaze is intense as he takes you in.

"Thank you. You look amazing..." It's clear that you're a bit flustered as you hurry to quickly put the roses in a vase, eyes continuing to flicker to his figure in your doorway.

He was in a black button up that hugged his arms and torso in ways that had you almost faceplanting with every step.

You're amazed that you manage to make it down to where his car is parked without your knees giving out as his hand ghosts over the small of your back the entire trek there.

He opens the passenger door for you and waits for you to get in before gently closing the door. It was driving you up the wall how gentle and warm he was being, and you almost wanted this to be a real date.

As he drives you both to Rossi's mansion, you speak softly to him, trying to ignore the way he steers with one hand on the wheel.

"Spencer texted me yesterday. He's bringing a girl he met at a coffee shop." You smile softly, meeting Aaron's gaze as he rolls to a stop at a red light.

"Really? That's good." He responds quietly, smiling fondly at the mention of Spencer.

"I know. He was worried about it all week, but I don't think he realizes how many women are attracted to him." You chuckle softly, nodding subtly toward the windshield as the stoplight turns green.

Aaron nods and grows quiet. A few minutes of silence pass before he speaks up, voice laden with nerves. "I'm grateful that Dave made the bet."

"Really?" You respond in surprise, wondering if it was because he was going to be a couple hundred dollars richer by the end of the night.

"Yes because it gave me the push I needed to finally ask you out."

Your lips part a bit at his words, butterflies swinging around your stomach and buzzing to the tips of your fingers. "Aaron?"

"I don't want tonight to continue with the pretense that I only asked you out to win the bet." His voice is mellow and growing more confident by the syllable, eyes occasionally flitting to yours as he drives on the highway. "I've admired you for a long time as an agent and a friend... and it didn't take long for that to turn into something more for me."

"Why are you telling me this now?" You muster up the courage to ask, leaning a bit closer to the center console between your seats.

"Because I realized these feelings were only growing everyday I saw you. Even if it's selfish, I want to be honest with you." He braves another glance at you.

You let out a heavy breath full of relief as you smile brightly at him, the setting sun casting a glowing pool of pinks and oranges across your beaming face. "I like you too, Aaron. I have for a long time as well."

Aaron's free hand reaches for your hand, and you happily let him tangle his fingers with yours. It was clear that nothing more needed to be said between you both, the connection between your hearts growing stronger with every ounce of relief and adrenaline that filled you both.

The feeling of his calloused hand in yours keeps a buzzing warmth coursing through your body for the rest of the drive.

When you pull up to Rossi's opulent house, neither of you notice the curtains of the window by the front door moving as your team take turns peeking outside when they realize Aaron's car has arrived.

Aaron walks with you to the front door with his arm around your waist, a bright glint in his gaze as he's radiating unadulterated joy.

Neither of you even pretend to be sheepish when the door swings open and Penelope's squeals meet your ears, everyone piecing together the puzzle when they see Aaron holding you close.

"We were starting to think you both got lost." Rossi's voice rings out as he chuckles and beckons you both in, looking at Aaron with an impressed smirk.

"Thanks for having us, Dave." Aaron grins, squeezing your waist before loosening his hold to let Penelope tackle you in a hug, Emily and JJ's enthusiastic questions not far behind.

"When did that happen?" Emily gapes, excitedly poking your side and raising her eyebrows.

You hug JJ and answer her from over JJ's shoulder. "The day you all made the bet. I told you guys that Aaron's full of surprises."

"Remind me to never bet against you in the future. Well, someone get Derek over here." Emily shakes her head in disbelief as you all slowly migrate toward the kitchen.

Aaron's hand finds yours again as you triumphantly smile, "Oh right, I hope you all brought your wallets! It's time to pay up."

"My man!" Derek's voice echoes around the house as he emerges from the wine cellar, beaming at Aaron. "Where's your date?" He asks, clearly unaware of the proximity between you and Aaron.

Aaron holds up your joined hands and chuckles. "I think this means I win?"

Morgan nearly drops the bottle of wine in his grip as he swivels his head for a double take at you both.

Rossi leaps toward Morgan, arms extended forward as panic seeps into his eyes. "Careful! That's 1860 Madeira!"

Morgan groans and lets Rossi wrestle the bottle from his grip. "Will you ever let us win at something, man?"

Aaron's chest rumbles with a chuckle as he rubs your knuckles with his thumb and shakes his head in amusement. "Not a chance."

[theminecraftbee]

sigh okay this year i have actual mob vote opinions. disclaimer: my MAIN opinion is that if i see too much mob vote salt on my dash i'll just block the relevant terms again, and that all three mobs are adorable and i'd like any of them. however, my vague thoughts on them:

crab: i have inherent vault hunters-based crab grudges. the coconut crab appears in my nightmares. however, past that, the crab as an animal is fun, i like crabs alright. the fact it's shown crawling up trees sideways is neat. i'll say mangrove forests are ALREADY one of the loveliest, most alive-feeling biomes, so i don't know if they need an exclusive mob? but it's also realistic for the crab so i'll take it. when it comes to the crab claw itself... many questions. is it an off-hand item? or like create's extendo-reach thing? or what? how MUCH additional reach does it give you? even just two blocks can be wildly useful in my modded experience, but like, is it one or two blocks, or does it double your reach, or what? and does that reach extend to mining at all? the video says it's just block placing, which would make sense from a balance perspective, but does sort of hamstring the claw's usefulness if that's the case; if you misplace a block you're going to have to scaffold over there anyway. if it DOES include mining reach... oh boy, that's a whole new ballgame.

armadillo: cute! i like armadillos! seeing it curled up as a ball, i wonder if it has a block-like form like that? that sounds really fun! like a shulker, or something else you could stand on. (that is PURE speculation, nothing else to suggest that is shown in the video.) it being found in "warm biomes like the savannah" i like more than the mangrove-exclusive crab, especially since the savannah can feel a little sparse and lifeless. i wonder if it's in other warm biomes? as for its effect, it has the most straightforward one: when it gets scared it sheds its scute, and you can use that to make wolf armor. i like wolf armor! wolves have needed some way to make them more survivable for ages! it's not like, got potential to be a massive gamechanger or anything, but it doesn't have to, it's fun!

penguins: by FAR the cutest design. i love that they chose macaroni penguins, excellent choice. the fact they're native to stony shore biomes is also an excellent choice (and far better than choosing a snowy biome; more penguins live in places like the stony shore irl!). the stony shore having penguins also gives it a bit more of the life stony shorelines have irl. their secondary effect, though... honestly, "make boats go faster" doesn't really speak to me? i am enjoying imagining a world where this effect works while iceboating (prepare to rubberband ALL OVER THE PLACE), and i think it would be fun, it just personally compels me the least. which is a shame, because i think the penguins are ABSOLUTELY the cutest!

overall, i think i land towards the armadillo. i like that none of them really have any big, exciting, game changing feature, just nice-to-have. makes it feel less like we miss out on something huge when two of them lose, just miss out on something potentially cute. i still wish the old mob votes could still be added to the game and that the losers here would also be added to the game. i wouldn't be mad if any of these guys won honestly they're all cute and have mildly interesting effects.

and this will be the last time i discuss the mob vote, except maybe to reblog cute art.

[drewlyyours]

Nancy Drew Quotes That Haunt Me:

- “the older your father got, Joy, the more he realized that life was made up of memories. he realized that even bad memories have a place in a good life” (Miles the Magnificent Memory Machine - CAR)

- “they hung Dirk at noon. I thought I would be glad but I ain’t.”

“The Harrison’s Yellow which Frances said was her favorite flower in the world is just a pile of brown stix now. I don’t know how to look after delicate things like that so it is my fault that it died… I ain’t seen or heard from Frances in a year. I tell people she is on her way home but when I look in my heart I know this is a lie.” (Meryl Humber, SHA)

- “Some women with noses that would put birds of prey to shame are perfectly content with their appearance, while others with perfectly acceptable features are convinced they are more hideous than Frankenstein. Self image– it can make people do strange things.” (Jean-Michel - DAN)

- “You watch this dark rampaging monster go tearing across the land, wrecking everything it touches, til all of a sudden, it ain’t there no more. Ya can’t go after it, ya can’t make it put everything back, ya can’t get even with it, ‘cause it’s just… gone. All you can do is stand there thinkin’… now that ain’t fair. That just ain’t fair.” (Pa - TOT)

- “You think you’re entitled to a straight answer? Who are you, Nancy? A stranger. You forget that too easily.” (Miwako Shimizu - SAW)

- “Saw Maggie on a walk today with her new boyfriend. She gave me a sad look, and there was something else there… was it pity? Am I to be pitied now?” (Alexei Markovic’s journal - ASH)

- "I can't help but wonder if they're misfortunate fools, or just addicted to Sunday clothes and the sound of a spade takin' a bite out of cold clay."

(Savannah Woodham - GTH)

- “I wanted to be her when I grew up. But then one day I was older than my older sister, and older still today.” (Harper Thornton - GTH)

- “And I hear your song, whenever the world is quiet enough.” (Nancy, talking to her mom - SPY)

- "Family. People. That's what matters. The rest is useless noise." (Elisabet Grimursdottir - SEA)

And, finally, this nightmare from a dead soldier:

- “VICTUM INVIDEO SILENTE : The Conquered shall envy The Dead.” (Milo Penvellyn’s Coat of Arms - CUR)

[sorchathered]

I can love you through the dark

Pairing- Jake Seresin x OC (Savannah Monroe-Seresin)

Warnings- language, angst, mentions of death, pregnancy, ptsd

Summary- sometimes the past keeps Jake up at night, but she is always there to bring him back from the dark.

A/N- an old WIP I found deep in my Google docs that I thought could use some love. Not beta read.

———————————————————————————-

Jake Seresin had a short fuse. He’d been working on that.

He kept his composure as Rooster threw that cheap shot at him, brushing it off despite the shock all over everyone’s faces by the pool table. “The only place you’ll lead someone is an early grave.” It rang in his ears later that night, Coyote was too damn perceptive as he watched his friend from across the shitty barracks room they were assigned to.

“I’m fine” Jake grunted as he stared at the ceiling, trying to will the thoughts away.

Two years. It’d been two years since his former wingman Torch had lost his life in a field exercise gone wrong. Jake had been cleared of any wrongdoing but he knew; if he’d watched his teammate’s back like he should have Torch would still be alive.

He’d worked his ass off to prove he was the best ever since, and refused to let anyone else in again after that day. Maybe that’s why he was so frustrated with Rooster, he cared too much where Jake refused to care at all. The mission was what mattered now; not making friends. All getting close to someone guaranteed was that you had more to lose, and Jake couldn’t bear to lose anything or anyone else.

“How are things going?” The soft voice filtered through the speaker of his phone as he paced the halls, another night full of nightmares and no sleep.

“It’s going. This is a big one, everyone who’s anyone is here and I worry that they aren’t taking it as serious as they should.” He sighed and ran a hand over his face, he shouldn’t be on the phone with her right now, one of them at least needed to get some rest.

“You need to take care of yourself, and try to be a team player-“

He barked out a laugh at that and he could just see her shaking her head and sighing, she knew he couldn’t afford to get close to someone like that again, no one knew better than she did.

“Jake. I need your head in the game. I can’t do this without you, I- I need you to come home ok?” She was crying, he’d promised he’d do everything he could to never make her cry and here she was getting upset over him again.

“Sweetheart I’m not going anywhere, but you need to rest ok? I’ll be good, I’ll be the very best. Take care of yourself and our little angel. I love you Savvy, fuck- I love you so much.”

They said their goodbyes and Jake slept for the first time since he’d gotten back to Miramar.

Savannah “Savvy” Monroe had been Torch’s high school sweetheart, she’d followed him wherever the navy took him until that fateful day when his plane had gone down. She’d always seemed like an unstoppable force until then, and Jake watched one of his best friend’s crumble and turn into a shell of the woman she’d been. It seemed obvious to everyone but him that they would seek solace in each other, no one blamed them for how they chose to stitch themselves back together, and while they started a new life together Jake couldn’t help but struggle with the guilt.

She’d dragged him to therapy after a big fight, he’d walked out her early in their relationship; determined to prove to her that he didn’t deserve her love and push her to hate him as much as he hated himself. 6 months later he’d finally found himself again, only to find out that Savvy was pregnant. He couldn’t help but wish Torch was here, and his therapist told him it was not only normal but expected. He’d made an honest woman out of her quickly after that, life had proven to be too short and they wanted to start their new life with all the bows tied up nice and neat.

When the call came up to head back to top gun they were nearing the 7th month and he wanted her to stay in Texas with his mom where he knew she’d be safe and taken care of. Now he was here and all he wanted was to hold her, especially after Rooster managed to get under his skin. No one really knew that he and Sav were married, except for Javy and his wife and he wanted to keep it that way. Rooster knew Torch would always be a sore spot, and he’d pressed just the right buttons to bring Hangman to the surface. He filed that rage away for the right moment and when the time came he was ruthless, he knew it was wrong to cut Bradshaw down like that but Rooster had thrown the first punch.

When he got reduced to spare and Rooster got promoted to wingman he was almost relieved, he had too much to lose and it was easy to get caught up in the competition. He wanted to be the best, but he had to think of his family.

Mission accomplished and successful, everyone had survived and made it back to Fightertown safely. As he stepped off the carrier he heard her shouting his name and shook his head in disbelief, he should’ve known better than to think her stubborn ass wouldn’t be here waiting for him to return. She couldn’t run bless her heart but she waddled across the lot as fast as she could with a giggle as he scooped her up in his arms, kissing her deeply and then dropping to his knees to talk to his baby boy.

Rooster watched from a distance, realization striking him as he took the scene in. He’d met Torch’s wife before, years ago when they were in flight school. Heat burned his cheeks as he realized that maybe- just maybe he was just as much of an ass as Jake Seresin, and maybe his judgement had been too harsh. Coyote clapped him on the shoulder as he passed, nodding his head in their direction as he watched Jake pepper kisses to her cheeks, he treated her like she were made of glass as he escorted her across the lot to his truck.

“Now you know a little something about Hangman, he wants you to think he’s a pompous ass; but the man couldn’t be more of a marshmallow. I hope to God we never have to live through what they did, don’t you agree?” Javy Machado didn’t wait for an answer, just left Rooster to ponder that thought.

He thought of his mother, broken over the loss of his father and felt a cold chill, he’d find a way to thank Hangman someday, he had saved his life after all.

———————————————————————————-

Tagging- @roosterforme @attapullman @bobgasm @seitmai @sebsxphia @mynameismckenziemae @sailor-aviator

[solxamber]

Royal Scandal- Ruggie Bucchi x reader

You're being forced to marry someone to take the throne you've fought your entire life for. Okay, if that's how it is, you'll make sure to choose the one person here that your dearest parents will disapprove of the most.

I really like how this one turned out!

The ballroom was resplendent, filled with swirling silks, dazzling jewels, and a sea of royals from every corner of the world. It was your nightmare, distilled into one room. You stood at the head of the grand staircase, glaring down at the crowd, feeling utterly betrayed by your parents.

You—the crown heir, a skilled warrior, a tactical genius, and the pride of your kingdom—reduced to nothing more than a prize in a political matchmaking game. It was an insult.

“Really?” you muttered to yourself, grip tightening on the bannister. “They think they can push me into marriage to take the throne? They’ll regret this.”

From across the room, the usual parade of suitors hovered about, each one vying for a moment of your attention. They were all here to win your hand, though it was clear many of them weren’t here for you. The throne, the kingdom, the alliances—it was all just a game of power to them.

And then there was him. The only non-royal standing awkwardly by the hors d'oeuvres table. Ruggie Bucchi.

Ruggie was here because of Leona, and Leona was here because Falena had pawned off the responsibility of attending this ridiculous event onto his younger brother. But as usual, Leona wasn’t particularly interested in mingling with anyone. He had quickly made his way to the most comfortable couch in the room, leaving his attendant Ruggie to do all the heavy lifting—literally. Ruggie was managing Leona’s food, drinks, and handling the other guests with a sharp smile that concealed just how little he wanted to be here.

Leona had been an unexpected ally ever since your diplomatic trip to the Savannah, where your banter had somehow sparked an unlikely friendship. Leona, for all his royal airs, had grown fond of teasing you relentlessly, and the two of you exchanged jabs every chance you got.

You've met Ruggie before, during the visit. You knew of his circumstances and a wonderful plan was brewing inside you at this moment.

Ruggie wasn’t a suitor. He wasn’t even remotely interested in this ball. And yet…

A grin began to spread across your face.

Oh, this could work.

The next morning, the grand hall was packed with suitors, ministers, and your parents, all eagerly awaiting your declaration. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a sword.

“Today,” your father began with his booming voice, “our heir will announce their chosen partner. We know that this decision will aid in the prosperity of our kingdom.”

Your mother nodded, casting you a pointed look, as if to remind you of the importance of this moment. Oh, if only she knew what was coming.

You stepped forward, scanning the room with a serene smile. Your heart raced with excitement as you looked past all the anxious, hopeful suitors. Finally, your gaze landed on Ruggie, who stood in the corner, shoving the last of a sandwich into his mouth. He caught your eye, freezing mid-chew.

You raised a hand, pointing directly at him. “I have chosen Ruggie Bucchi.”

There was a deafening beat of silence before your declaration actually registered.

Your parents’ smiles froze, the air in the room turning cold. The ministers paled, their gazes snapping toward Ruggie, who was standing in the back, his next sandwich halfway to his mouth. He blinked, looking over his shoulder like you couldn’t possibly mean him. Maybe there was a “Ruggie Bucchi” that he didn’t know about?

But the world stopped when it hit that yes, you did mean that Ruggie Bucchi—the hyena from the slums of the Sunset Savanna who had no royal blood, no land to offer, no armies. Just a cunning smile and a love for free food.

Leona, sitting lazily on the side, blinked at you before letting out a sudden burst of laughter, the sound echoing through the hall. His usual smirk widened into something truly wicked as he turned to your parents with a shrug. “Well, what did you expect? You did say they could choose anyone in the room, didn’t you?”

Your parents were speechless, their faces a mix of horror and disbelief. Your mother looked like she might faint, and your father sputtered, glancing between you and Ruggie, who still hadn’t moved from his spot at the back of the room. He slowly lowered the sandwich, looking very much like he was rethinking every life choice he had ever made.

Leona, never one to miss an opportunity for chaos, leaned back in his chair and grinned even wider. “It would be a shame if you went back on your word now. After all, it was very clear—whoever they chose, right? I’m sure the esteemed royals wouldn’t go back on a promise they made to their only heir in front of all these witnesses.”

Your father’s mouth opened and closed, his face rapidly turning a shade of purple as he tried to find words that wouldn’t cause a diplomatic disaster. Your mother’s eyes darted around the room, probably searching for an escape route. Meanwhile, the ministers exchanged horrified glances, clearly trying to figure out how to spin this in a way that wouldn’t end in utter embarrassment.

Leona, of course, wasn’t done yet. “You know,” he added, casually inspecting his nails, “a promise is a promise. And from where I’m sitting, it looks like Ruggie here’s your new royal consort.” His eyes sparkled with mirth, clearly loving every second of the madness you'd just incited. “After all, we wouldn’t want to insult the future ruler’s decision, right?”

You could practically see your parents’ souls leaving their bodies.

Ruggie, to his credit, finally stopped gaping like a fish and straightened up, wiping crumbs from his vest and putting on a cocky grin, like he had totally planned for this from the start. “Welp, looks like I’m movin’ up in the world,” he said, swaggering forward, though the slight wobble in his step gave away his shock. He shot Leona and you a glance that screamed, Why are you doing this to me? But Leona just gave him a lazy shrug in response, clearly enjoying the show. And you just grinned back at him.

Your mother finally found her voice, though it was shaky at best. “This… this can’t be—”

“Oh, but it can.” your voice cut through the hall, smooth as silk and twice as smug. “You said anyone. Don’t tell me you’re regretting those words now?”

Your father visibly swallowed, realizing the bind he was in. The ministers were sweating bullets, clearly hoping someone else would step in and stop this disaster, but no one dared to speak. After all, it would be political suicide to go against a future ruler’s decision in front of a room full of witnesses.

Ruggie had now reached the front, his grin widening as he gave a quick, exaggerated bow to you, looking for all the world like a cat that had just caught a very large mouse. “Guess I’m your guy now, huh?”

You flashed him a triumphant smile, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “Looks like it.”

Your father, still in a state of shock, muttered something about tradition, but it was too late. The damage was done. You had chosen Ruggie, and with Leona egging on the entire thing, there was no way they could take it back without creating an uproar.

Leona, still lounging like the king of chaos he was, gave you a little salute. “Congrats to the happy couple. Can’t wait to see the wedding.”

Your parents looked like they might faint. The suitors—well, some of them looked relieved to not be part of this train wreck, but others were trying very hard not to burst into outrage. Ruggie just stood there, now fully committed to the bit, his grin as wide as ever.

And so, with your parents begrudgingly forced to accept your choice, the announcement was made. You had successfully thrown the entire royal court into chaos, and judging by the look on your face, this was far from over.

As for Ruggie, well, he was already calculating how much food he could swindle from the wedding feast.

After the uproar finally died down, and the ministers and royals reluctantly dispersed—each with their own whispers and murmurs of the chaos that had just ensued—you managed to pull Ruggie aside, away from the prying eyes of the court. His expression was still a mix of disbelief and amusement, as though he couldn’t quite wrap his head around what had just happened.

“Well, that was something,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “I’ve had some wild gigs before, but to be the royal consort? That’s a new one.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his casual tone, even as the situation around you felt anything but. You led him into one of the side corridors, away from the grand hall, before stopping to face him. Ruggie crossed his arms, clearly curious about where this was going. “Alright, spill it. What’s the deal here?”

You took a deep breath, collecting your thoughts. “I know that whole declaration just now was insane, but I had to do something drastic.”

“Yeah, drastic is one way to put it,” he snickered, leaning against the wall, waiting for you to continue.

“I’m the only heir to the throne,” you began, the frustration in your voice evident. “I’ve trained my whole life for this. The swordsmanship, the diplomacy, the studies. I’ve done it all. But my parents—” you trailed off, your voice tight with anger, “—they won’t let me take the throne unless I get married. It’s ridiculous. I don’t need to get married to rule, but they refuse to see that.”

Ruggie tilted his head, his brow furrowing slightly. “So, what? You picked me just to get them off your back?”

“Exactly.” You smiled, but it was more cunning than genuine. “They’re too stuck in their ways to listen to reason, so I decided to make them regret forcing me into this. That’s where you come in.”

His ears twitched in curiosity, though the grin on his face was as sharp as ever. “And what exactly do I get out of this?”

You took a step closer, lowering your voice to ensure no one overheard. “I need you to play along with this marriage for a year. Just a year. By that time, I’ll have stabilized the kingdom, taken the throne officially, and you’ll be free to leave. No strings attached.”

Ruggie’s eyes narrowed as he considered your words. “And what do I get in return?”

“The wealth you’ll get out of this will set you up for life. I’m talking more money than you’ll know what to do with. You’ll never have to worry about another odd job or scrape together food again. After this year, you can go back to the Sunset Savanna, and you’ll have enough to take care of yourself, your community, your grandmother—whoever. You’ll never have to work again.”

Ruggie raised a brow, a flicker of interest in his eyes. He was a practical guy, after all, and if there was one thing that motivated him, it was a good deal. “And all I have to do is pretend to be your royal husband for a year?”

“Yep,” you confirmed with a nod, crossing your arms. “Think of it as the best con of your life. We’ll fake the marriage, play the part for a year, and then when it’s over, you’re free to go with a fortune in your pocket.”

For a moment, Ruggie was silent, his sharp gaze studying you, likely weighing the pros and cons of this insane proposal. “So, you’re basically hiring me to be your fake spouse.”

“Exactly.”

A slow grin spread across his face. “You know, this is probably one of the most ridiculous offers I’ve ever gotten—and I’ve been offered some weird stuff before—but,” he shrugged, “money’s money. And if it means I get to live easy after this, then I’m in.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, relief washing over you. “So, we have a deal?”

Ruggie chuckled, extending his hand to you. “We have a deal. But don’t expect me to go easy on the royal kitchens while I’m here. I’m gonna milk this for all it’s worth.”

You smirked, shaking his hand. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Ruggie’s grin turned mischievous as he added, “And don’t worry. I’ll play the part of the perfect doting husband. We’ll give ‘em a show they’ll never forget.”

With the deal struck, you both walked back into the palace, the weight of the future ahead not lost on you. A fake marriage with Ruggie Bucchi—one year, just one year, and then you’d be free. What could possibly go wrong?

Except, somewhere deep inside, you had a feeling that the real challenge wasn’t in the act itself—it was in not falling for the witty, resourceful hyena at your side.

Your wedding was the most extravagant affair your kingdom had ever seen. You spared no expense, throwing the grandest celebration imaginable, just to rub it in a little more. Lavish decorations, exotic foods, and a royal procession that stretched for miles.

Ruggie, for his part, looked both delighted and completely out of place as he stood beside you during the ceremony. He leaned over at one point, whispering, “I’ve never been this well-dressed in my life. You sure we’re not overdoing it?”

You grinned, adjusting his ornate cape. “If we’re going to make them suffer, we might as well go all out.”

The priest, an elderly man with a tremble in his voice, stood before the two of you, his wrinkled hands holding the ceremonial scroll. His voice was deep, reverent, and filled with emotion—entirely too much emotion for the farce that was about to unfold.

You felt a little sorry for him, considering that he was the one who taught you the scriptures and history of your nation when you were younger, one of the only people to see you for you instead of the "heir". But you knew the next part was going to be hilarious.

“We gather here today,” the priest began, “to unite these two souls in the eternal bond of marriage.”

You dared a glance at your parents, sitting stiffly at the front row, their faces a mixture of horror and resignation. The ministers were whispering frantically among themselves, occasionally darting their eyes towards you and Ruggie as if hoping this was all a nightmare they’d soon wake up from. The absolute satisfaction you felt seeing them squirm almost made this whole ridiculous charade worth it.

But the best part? Leona. Sitting at the back, his face buried in his hands, his shoulders shaking with the effort to keep from bursting out in laughter. Every now and then, you could hear a muffled snort escape him, and you had to fight the urge to look back at him. One glance, and you’d both be done for.

“And now,” the priest continued, oblivious to the brewing chaos, “the couple will exchange their vows.”

You took a deep breath, turning to face Ruggie. His lips were pressed into a thin line, his shoulders shaking ever so slightly with suppressed laughter. His eyes met yours, and you could see the absolute glee dancing in them. This was going to be ridiculous.

You cleared your throat and began, doing your best to sound as dramatic and sincere as possible. “Ruggie Bucchi, from the moment I saw you,” you paused, a wave of barely-contained laughter bubbling up in your chest, “I knew you were the one destined for me. Your… resourcefulness, your… cunning, your ability to stretch a loaf of bread for days… it all captivated my heart.”

Ruggie’s eyes widened slightly at that, and you saw his lips twitch as he struggled not to laugh. You forged on.

“I vow to cherish every moment we spend together, whether it’s in the royal kitchen, watching you devour a feast meant for ten people, or in the court, where I know you’ll always have some… crafty solution to every problem.” You bit your lip, trying to keep a straight face as you added, “I promise to never let a day go by without admiring your thriftiness.”

You finished with a flourish, and the nuns and priests in the room were openly weeping, clutching their hearts as though your “love” had moved them to tears. It was a struggle to not just burst out laughing at the scene. The more you spoke, the more ridiculous it all felt, and you swore you could hear Leona snickering from the back, not even trying to hide it anymore.

Ruggie cleared his throat, taking his turn, his voice as smooth and exaggerated as possible. “Your Highness,” he began, his tone dripping with mock sincerity. “From the moment you dragged me into this—” he coughed, “I mean, the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew there was something special. You’re not like other royals,” he said, the smirk on his face just barely concealed. “No, you’re so… generous. So thoughtful. Offering me all the wealth I could ever dream of—”

You gave him a small nudge with your elbow, and he winked at you before continuing.

“I vow to stand by your side, no matter how absurd the situation.” His grin widened, his voice growing more theatrical with each word. “I’ll be there when the royal chefs burn your food, when the ministers drive you mad with their endless meetings, and most importantly, I’ll make sure there’s always a way out of any mess you get into—royal or otherwise.”

The priest was dabbing his eyes with a handkerchief, clearly moved beyond words by the display of "eternal love" unfolding before him. The nuns were practically clutching their rosaries, and one of the ministers was furiously scribbling notes, perhaps planning to write a memoir about this "historic" union.

But you could feel Ruggie shaking with barely-contained laughter beside you, and you knew he was struggling just as much as you were.

Leona, meanwhile, was not helping.

“Isn’t this just the most touching thing you’ve ever seen?” Leona called from the back, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he stood up and clapped once, slowly. “I mean, who could have predicted such true love would bloom in the royal court? Makes you wonder why we ever doubted them.”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, and sure enough, Leona’s face was barely composed, his smirk broad as he leaned against the back wall. He mouthed, “Go on, keep it up,” as if he was daring you both to escalate the absurdity.

Ruggie, never one to miss an opportunity, took the challenge.

“And, in return for your endless affection,” Ruggie continued, placing his hand dramatically over his heart, “I swear to be the most diligent husband this kingdom has ever seen. I will work tirelessly—mostly to keep you out of trouble, but also to ensure that you never have to lift a finger. You’ll never have to worry about running out of your precious riches, or losing your crown jewels, because I’ll be there to safeguard every coin.”

He shot you a playful wink before finishing with, “And of course, I’ll always be ready to take off with you when things get a little too… boring around here.”

The priest, overcome with emotion, was full-on sobbing now, while your parents sat pale-faced, probably wondering what cosmic force they had offended to end up in this situation.

The room erupted into applause, and Leona, now clapping with a wide grin, leaned over to one of the younger nobles. “You’ll tell the archivists that the vows were this good, right? Might as well get all the details in there.”

Your parents couldn’t even muster a response. They sat rigidly, eyes flickering from you to Ruggie, to the now entirely tearful congregation. The sight of the priests and nuns weeping, utterly convinced by your "heartfelt" vows, was the icing on the cake. You could almost hear the grinding of your father’s teeth from where you stood, and your mother’s strained smile looked one twitch away from cracking.

By the time the priest finally declared your union, both you and Ruggie were barely keeping it together. The ceremony had transformed into a spectacle of ridiculous proportions, and you weren’t sure if anyone could really tell if the applause was genuine or just out of sheer disbelief.

When the final words of the ceremony were spoken and you were “officially” bound together, Ruggie turned to you with a grin so wide it could only be described as mischievous.

“Well, Your Majesty,” he whispered, loud enough for you alone to hear, “we really pulled it off. But I think I deserve a bonus after that performance.”

You stifled a laugh, giving him a light shove. “Wait until after the banquet. I’ll have them send extra desserts to your room as compensation.”

And with that, the two of you walked down the aisle, the very picture of an odd, unexpected royal match.

Leona gave you both a mock bow from the back as you passed by, still laughing silently to himself as the ministers and nobles exchanged bewildered glances.

The following weeks were a blur of royal duties, much to Ruggie’s bemusement. He followed you around, trying to figure out how he ended up playing the role of a royal consort.

“So,” Ruggie said one evening as he flopped down onto the couch in your chambers, “I gotta admit, I thought this was gonna be way worse. I mean, I’m not exactly cut out for all this fancy stuff, but the food? The food is incredible.”

You chuckled, sitting beside him. “Well, it’s only for a year. Then you’ll be free, and you’ll never have to deal with this nonsense again.”

Ruggie shot you a grin. “You’re counting down the days already?”

You smirked. “Aren’t you?”

He shrugged, his grin softening. “Honestly? You’re not as bad as I thought. Could’ve ended up with someone way more annoying.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving him playfully. “Gee, thanks.”As the months went on, something strange began to happen. The more time you spent with Ruggie, the more comfortable things felt. Sure, it had started as a deal—a way to get what you wanted—but somewhere along the way, the lines began to blur.

Ruggie was surprisingly good company. His sharp wit and laid-back attitude were a refreshing change from the stiff, formal interactions you were used to with the other royals. He was resourceful, quick-thinking, and even though he constantly complained about the pomp and ceremony of royal life, he never once let you down.

Then there was the way he treated you. Not as a royal, not as some prized heir—but as you. He teased you, made you laugh, and shared stories about his home and his grandma with such affection that it warmed your heart.

Speaking of his grandma, the first time you visited her, she welcomed you with open arms. She was sharp-tongued and quick-witted, much like her grandson, and the two of you hit it off immediately.

“Oh, so you’re the one who roped my boy into this fancy business?” she had said with a cackle, patting your hand. “Well, you’ve got my approval, sweetheart. Just make sure you keep him in line.”

Ruggie groaned, slumping in his chair. “Grams, please…”

As the year drew closer to its end, you found yourself dreading the day Ruggie would leave. You didn’t want him to go. You didn’t want this to end.

The anniversary of your marriage was fast approaching, and your stomach twisted into knots every time you thought about it. Tomorrow, Ruggie would be free to go, just like you promised. A year of playing the perfect royal consort, and it would all be over. He’d get his freedom, you’d get the throne.

So why did the thought of him leaving make you want to scream into a pillow?

You paced your chambers like a caged animal, mentally kicking yourself. You were supposed to be a genius tactician. Yet here you were, spiraling into an emotional wreck because of one laid-back, cunning hyena.

The door creaked open, and Ruggie strolled in with his usual smirk. “You’re pacing. Never seen you this jittery before. What’s up?”

You froze mid-step, spinning to face him. Your mind was a mess of conflicting emotions. How were you supposed to say this? Should you ease him into it? Throw him off with a joke? No, definitely not the joke. He’d roast you for it.

Ruggie raised an eyebrow. “Uh, you good? You look like you’re about to have a heart attack.”

You blurted out, “I don’t want you to leave.”

Ruggie blinked. Twice. Then blinked again like he was trying to reboot. “Come again?”

“I don’t want you to leave,” you repeated, feeling your palms start to sweat. You took a breath, stepping closer to him. “Tomorrow, you’re free to go, just like we agreed. But I… I don’t want you to. Somewhere along the line, this stopped being just a deal for me. I—I love you, Ruggie.”

Ruggie just stared at you, mouth slightly open like you’d just asked him to wear a ballgown and perform ballet in the throne room. Then he blinked again. “Wait… what?”

You closed your eyes. “You heard me.”

“I think I need to hear it again because there’s no way you just said that,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck like he was trying to get his brain working again.

You huffed, crossing your arms. “I. Love. You.”

Ruggie stood there, looking like you just grew a second head. “Hold on, you’re serious?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I’m being serious!”

Ruggie scratched his cheek, looking away as if he was still processing. “Well, damn. Didn’t expect that.” Then he met your eyes again, his usual grin faltering slightly. “You really love me?”

You nodded, feeling your heart pound. “Yes. And I can’t imagine you not being here. Not as some royal consort, but… just as you.”

Ruggie stared at you for a long moment, before he let out a quiet chuckle. “Y’know… I didn’t plan on this either. This was supposed to be a quick gig, get some cash, eat some fancy food, and bounce. But… well, you’re not like the other royals. You’re kinda fun to be around.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Kinda?”

“Okay, fine, a lotta fun. Happy?” He grinned.

You punched him lightly on the arm. “Not the point!”

He laughed, rubbing his arm dramatically. “Ow, inflicting pain already? But nah, seriously… You’re different. And I guess I didn’t realize how much I’d miss you if I actually left.”

Your heart flipped. “So… you’ll stay?”

Ruggie let out a sigh, but there was a fond smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, I’ll stay. I mean, how can I leave behind someone who lets me sneak pastries from the royal kitchens without ratting me out?”

You rolled your eyes, exasperated but relieved. “That’s what you’re staying for?”

He laughed, pulling you into a loose, playful hug. “Nah, it’s one of the perks though.”

You rested your head against his, feeling your worries melt away. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Oh, you better. I’m expecting a raise and benefits.” He teased, planting a quick kiss on your cheek.

You smirked, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “Benefits? What are you, my royal accountant?”

“Hey, I gotta get something outta this deal.” He grinned wider. “And speaking of, I plan on eating you out of house and home from now on. Just a heads up, Your Majesty.”

You groaned, swatting him on the arm again. “That’s already happening, Ruggie!”

“I mean even more now. You’ve created a monster.” He laughed, pulling you closer again, his nose nuzzling into your hair. “But seriously… I didn’t think this would happen either. Us. But I’m glad it did.”

You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth. “Me too.”

As you stood there in each other’s arms, you couldn’t help but think about how far you’d come from that deal. What started as a scheme to outsmart your parents had turned into something real, something you hadn’t expected, but something you wouldn’t trade for the world.

And as Ruggie’s laughter echoed in the room, you realized that maybe, just maybe, plans falling apart wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

“Well,” Ruggie said, smirking at you. “Guess I’m stuck with you now, huh?”

You chuckled, leaning into him. “Yeah, but admit it—you love it.”

He kissed your other cheek, his voice soft but teasing. “Yeah, yeah. I guess I do.”

And with that, you knew inciting that royal scandal was the best thing you could've ever done.

Masterlist

I don't know why but this is the fic that I like the most out of everything I've written lol it was supposed me like 2k words but I couldn't stop and this was born.

[jaynovz]

In discussions about the finale of Black Sails, one of the things I often see is folks hard-focusing on Flint's fate, in an either-or binary fashion, usually presented as "Which do you believe-- that Silver killed him? or sent him to the plantation?"

Now, for posterity's sake, gonna mention a few things-- first off, that's simply not thinking broadly enough. There are farrrr more than two options here and I've come up with my share of the reallyyyyy bad ones for sure. Whatever your mind chooses, none of those are happy endings anyway, there are bittersweet, bad, and worse endings all the way down. (They are paused, they are in a time loop, and also all endings and no endings are happening simultaneously)

But also, the more cogent point is that, it doesn't actually matter what happened *to Flint* The story is... not actually about him at that point. We have transitioned from Flint as protag to Silver as protag, setting up for (the fanfiction that Black Sails has ended up making of, ugh, king shit) Treasure Island.

And so, I just, don't find it to be of particular interest exploring what we think Flint is actually doing or if he's alive for real. What is EXTREMELY interesting to explore though is how Silver's speech at the end to Madi is sort of giving Thomas back to Flint as a pacifier/comfort object, but how... Silver is giving Flint that thing in his own mind as his own type of pacifier/comfort object.

That's the REALLY chewy bit. What actually happens to Flint is not the purpose of that scene for me, of Silver's recounting of events to Madi. It's more about... projection. It's about how Silver is dealing with whatever happened to Flint/whatever he did.

And I just feel like it's missing the point to focus so hard on if Flint is alive or not.

He is the ghost of the story regardless, that's what's important. He's going to haunt the narrative for the rest of everyone's lives. No one has been untouched or unscarred by coming into contact with Captain Flint; he has a forever legacy. I'm not the first to call him this, but he's Schrödinger's Flint and he's staying that way.

But this?

"No. I did not kill Captain Flint. I unmade him. The man you know could never let go of his war. For if he were to exclude it from himself, he would not be able to understand himself. So I had to return him to an earlier state of being. One in which he could function without the war. Without the violence. Without us. Captain Flint was born out of great tragedy. I found a way to reach into the past... and undo it. There is a place near Savannah... where men unjustly imprisoned in England are sent in secret. An internment far more humane, but no less secure. Men who enter these gates never leave them. To the rest of the world, they simply cease to be. He resisted... at first. But then I told him what else I had heard about this place. I was told prominent families amongst London society made use of it. I was told the governor in Carolina made use of it. So I sent a man to find out if they'd used it to hide away one particular prisoner. He returned with news. Thomas Hamilton was there. He disbelieved me. He continued to resist. And corralling him took great effort. But the closer we got to Savannah, his resistance began to diminish. I couldn't say why. I wasn't expecting it. Perhaps he'd finally reached the limits of his physical ability to fight. Or perhaps as the promise of seeing Thomas got closer... he grew more comfortable letting go of this man he created in response to his loss. The man whose mind I had come to know so well... whose mind I'd in some ways incorporated into my own. It was a strange experience to see something from it... so unexpected. I choose to believe it... because it wasn't the man I had come to know at all... but one who existed beforehand... waking from a long... and terrible nightmare. Reorienting to the daylight... and the world as it existed before he first closed his eyes... letting the memory of the nightmare fade away. You may think what you want of me. I will draw comfort in the knowledge that you're alive to think it. But I'm not the villain you fear I am. I'm not him."

This is the speech of a man who is self-soothing, who is spinning himself a tale, who is projecting, who is coping.

and THAT is just, way chewier, innit?

[reyreadersblog]

ALRIGHT Y'ALL MADE ME DO IT!!!

My unpopular tig/tgg opinions!!

FIRST!

These are MY opinions and i'm allowed to have my own thoughts on certian things, just as you are, okay..? Just wanna..get this out of way, i know everyone is respectful in this fandombut still.

1. this is something that should NOT be an upopular opinion. AVERY IS THE MAIN CHARACTER FOR A REASON. okay? She is a girlboss, and she needs more appretiation, cus literally search up tig on tt rn. Everybody and their cat named Stewie is talking about Grayson and Jameson? WHAT ABOUT MY MG AVERY? And if you see any post about her, it's probably a hate vid about how Avery should've kept the money...SHUT UP. Read what she said carefully..."no one deserves that kind of power.." and then think about it deeply.

2. I DO NOT WANT TIG TO TURN INTO A TV SERIES (or even a movie). i can't name all the reasons 'cus then the the list would be endless. First of all, i know, I JUST KNOW, they'll choose the worst cast ever. And even if they find the most accurate cast for the Hawthorne brother i will still be dissapointed, because the images of them i have in my head...THEY'LL NEVER TOP EM. second of all, they will leave out important moments, just as simple as it sounds, and trust me they will, just like they do with most of the live adaptations of books. Third of all, SHIP WARS!!! I phisically can't with ship war, like I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF EM IN THE PAST WHEN THE BOOKS WERE STILL COMING OUT. And just the thought of Averygrayson shipper saying "yeah Avery and jameson were endgame in the books but they might change it in the movie..." GIVES ME NIGHTMARES. and overall, not everything needs a live adaptation yk? sometimes things just have to stay the way they are.

3. ...this is a bit contrevertial.and i don't want to sound like a hater since i've said this a multiple times before but Rohan's pov was my least favourite in the grandest games. Purely bcs whatever Savannah and Rohan had going on...don't get me wrong, i like Savannah (even tho she did and said some fucked up things) and Rohan, SEPERATLY. But them being together...idk man, they were too..."booktokish" for my liking, yk? and i do love banter and teasing, but they were like basic "i like you but i like winning more" "couple". Not to mention they were so random...like where did they come from? I remember when we first saw Sav and Rohan having the same symbols on their cards i was very excited, i expected a different dynamic between them...PLUS THE WHOLE GAME THEY JUST WANTED TO FUCK💀

4. Hating Alisa Ortega and loving Grayson Hawthorne is CRAZYYY, and i'm saying this bcs they're pretty similar in different ways. And the thing is people are mad at Alisa for "saying mean words to Libby" (she was literally doing her job, you would understand if you were at her place) MEANWHILE GRAYSON LITERALLY THREATENED A HEIRESS! (sayin this as a Gray stan) *sigh* y'all are something else🤦🏻‍♀️.

5. Ohh...this one is risky...BUT CAN Y'ALL STOP ACTING LIKE JAMESON IS BLAMELESS?? all i see is Grayson slander, AND I UNDERSTAND, he fucked up, but saying "Jameson was so much better than Grayson" is a lie, at least for me. (He was better for Avery tho) he fs made mistakes that fandoms chooses to ignore. Like lets not act like treating Avery like a toy wasn't wrong. Lets not act like him blaming Grayson for everything wasn't wrong. Let's not act like him reminding Grayson of Emily's death wasn't wrong. And i know that later on both him and Grayson had a great character development, but still, i've never seen anyone talk about this.

6. This isn't about tig. But LIKING JLBS WORK AND BEING HER FAN DOESN'T MEAN YOU'RE GLAZING HER💀 (talking about an argument i had a while ago...) like is it so hard for your brain to understand that it's called having an opinion. Idc if it's JLB or any other author, okay? Like i've read almost every Jlb's books and i love them, AND i also publicly talk about how much iblove her work, does that mean i'm glazing her? UHM NO WTF💀.

7. LET. PEOPLE. HAVE. PREFRENCE. (I'm talking about ships btw) . Someone prefers LyraGray over Averyjameson, and that's okay. Someone loves Averyjameson the most, and that's also okay, someone likes Libbynash more then Xandermax, AND THAT IS ALSO OKAY.

I'll probably do part 2, i have more to say i'm just really tired rn.

Also it's not proof read so sorry if there are many mistakes.

[mizusnose]

Sweet Dark

Reincarnation au,, partially inspired by @libbyfandom whose own mizu x reader reincarnation au had me in tears—thanks for writing it! Also heavily inspired by To Someone From A Warm Climate by Hozier

Summary: Mizu dealing with the aftermath of reader’s death and coming to terms with losing you, then having you again in the modern world.

“But it happened easy darling, as natural as another leg around you in the bed”

———-

Hot blood stained Mizu’s fingers, her wrists, her arms and shoulders where you laid against her. She pressed you to her chest, a child crying in her mother’s breast. A silent cry, none at all.

“Ringo! Get me my cape.” Mizu’s throat was raw, a scream that carried too long. A broken wing mid flight, a bloody landing.

Ringo hurried over, the blood soaked snow crunching beneath his feet. Mizu felt unfocused as she looked down at you, a limp thing in her arms. Something she’d had nightmares about, a dream untethered and untrue, one you’d help her come down from when she gasped awake in the middle of the night. Her sobs a broken noise.

Now, it’s not a dream—it’s real.

Mizu scoops you up, can barely feel the warmth within your chest now that most of it had been lost from the blood lost.

“No no no no no—please, no, no!”

Her front was soaked in your blood. A smell that would faster leave her nose than her own death. One Mizu would wake from, even months after she’d buried you tucked away in Kohama, against the tree line where she’d learned how to fight.

Not enough to fight for you, but a memory nenotheless.

Mizu considered herself someone who didn’t care. About herself, about the world, about anyone—and yet..

The night Ringo had to tear your cold body from Mizu was the start. She hadn’t slept. Waited instead for the sun to rise above the pines, a rustling of a bird in the distance, eyes unfocused.

The nights after that just got worse. Mizu couldn’t sleep. When she would, she’d wake up, hands carrying your frame, your head, your limp arms—and realize her embrace would be empty. A dream put to shame.

She’d went back to Kohama. Try to recenter. Try to train. Try to heal.

Yet, as she’d lay down on the soft of the dirt in the absence of the fire, she’d shiver—a desperate wracking thing. She’d shake and her legs move, seeking out warmth. A heat from somebody rather than something.

Met with coldness, a deep quiet, an empty space.

Mizu didn’t sleep much at all if she could help it. Knew she’d resent the coldness only winter brings. What it meant to lose so much warmth from the loss of you.

She never truly got over it. Even after her life was gone and she’d been born again in the world renewed. She’d never been able to swallow around the lack of it: warmth of the bed from you.

So when she did have you again, everything and every part of you, it was worse than ever losing you.

Maybe because it was the joy that came with relearning it: your shaking against her body from the cool sheets, a duvet holding no heat. She’d pull the blankets over your both. Your face pressed against her neck—the same place you’d breathed your last exhale.

“Not used to the cold?” She’d chuckle.

“Nope,” You’d say, enamored by her, her her, “From a warm climate’s why.”

“You’ll get used to it.” And she’d press her body to yours as if to say see? i told you, see? I can protect you here, see? see?

Mizu wished she could express it all. The way all her dreaming had been put to shame, an instinct that was embedded in her: the cold lake water of her heart boiled over.

She’d think: what an innate primal thing it is to be loved. To experience a bed, warmed by someone you’d lost—someone found again.

And, as if in a dream again, she’d hold you and wake in surprise to see you there: alive, hers.

hers.

———

Hozier’s lyrics = the standard. title from savannah brown’s poetry book of the same name.

[cottoncandyswisherz]

mine.

this is for @l0akkzz because she said do angst

exbf!chris x trackstar!reader

warnings: angst, kissing, swearing, very very suggestive/damn near smut

lil background info because i dont feel like writing all that: theyre in college and y/n runs track. y/n and chris used to date but they broke up bc chris cheated and y/n started dating chris' teammate but shes miserable. they hooked up a week before the story takes place and the chris told y/n to break up with said ex. savannah is y/ns friend thats trynna get with chris.

-

"why i'm still with him is none of your business. i am none of your fucking business, chris. what happened that night was because we were wasted. you said i could blame you, so this is me blaming you and telling you to leave me the hell alone. "

"but i don't want to. "

"are you a fucking masochist?"

"not usually, no. in fact, some might say i'm the exact opposite, but i'm ready for you to come to your senses."

"have you heard a word i've said? i want nothing to do with you."

"say that again and try to mean it this time." my mouth gets close to hers. i can smell the notes of coconut oil drifting from her hair. i can smell the mint rushing from her lips in fractured breaths. "unless... you can't?"

she glares up at me and there's so much heat beneath that honey in her eyes, but she doesn't push me. not even once.

y/n might lash out, but my mere nearness is causing her a shortness of breath. her chest rises and falls in a quick rhythm.

so i press my chest to hers. firm nipples glue to mine and the thud of her heartbeat slams and mixes with my own.

what the fuck is this girl doing to me?

why on earth can't i keep my hands off her? does she have witch blood? is she made of fucking drugs?

i reach my hand out and grip her throat lightly. barely any pressure. but enough to let her know who's in control.

"you're a fucking nightmare." she mutters, her throat working beneath my fingers.

"your nightmare." "i hate you." "i don't." "you're fucking crazy."

"about you." i whisper against her lips and claim them with a guttural moan.

she doesn't push away. she certainly does not turn her face or look like she's uncomfortable with the attention.

in fact, the exact opposite happens.

her lashes flutter over her cheeks as she groans, and i eat that sound teh fuck up. i eat her the fuck up.

i swallow her whole. teeth clashing, tongues swirling and lips chasing.

god fucking damn it.

i've been fantasizing about his last since last week. every morning, noon, and night. every goddamn second of every fucking day, all i wanted was to have a taste again.

but i didn't want to freak her out or send her running for the hills. i sure as hell don't give two flying fucks about that possibility right now, though.

i soak her all in, exploring, feasting absolutely drowning in her fucking mouth.

she tastes of honey, mint and pending fucking addiction.

i twirl my tongue against hers and i'm rewarded with her hard nips. babydoll kisses me as thoroughly as i kiss her, her fingers tugging on the bottom of my hoodie to keep me glued to her naked torso.

i roll her bottom lips between my teeth and nibble on the skin until she's whimpering, shuddering and fucking shaking against me,

give me more.

more.

fucking more.

i shove my raging erection against her and i can practically feel the heat radiating from her pussy.

she's hot. for me.

again.

"you're so fucking turned on for someone who claims she wants nothing to do with me." i speak against her perfect lips. " you're not drunk now either."

"don't mock me...." she breathes out even as her mouth seems to chase mine. "i would've gotten this way for anyone. it's called a physical reaction."

this fucking- i swear she's asking to be torn apart.

i slide my tongue down her neck and bite her collar bone, hard, then suck just as savagely, giving her back the hickey she hid for a whole week.

"stop it..." she grunts, shoving her hand against my chest.

only, she put not actual strength behind it.

i trail a path of bites to where her collarbone meets her chest. i pull her bra off, then i scrape my my teeth of her nipples.

she spits out the most erotic moan i've ever heard, and i jam two of my fingers down in her mouth then spread them against his tongue.

i need her to stop fucking talking and ruining every moment with her damn mouth.

my tongue swirls around her brown areola, then i tug the nipple between my teeth, sucking and biting until all i hear are the muffled noises spilling from her stuffed mouth.

"you like this don't you?" i move to the other nipple, sucking the skin around it, leaving a huge hickey before i bite down on the little bud. "you look perfect marked by me. my own piece of fucking art."

one of her hands is on my shoulder, pushing me away, but the other is in my hair, pulling me close.

she's a fucking conundrum, my babydoll, and i can't wait to break her into fucking pieces.

her body is stiff against me, but her tongue swirls around my fingers, and her teeth bite down whenever i nibble on her nipple.

i'm so drunk on her and her taste. so addicted to how responsive she is.

i can't fucking get enough.

not after one lick or two or a thousand. i want to throw her down and feast on her properly. i want to watch her shudder and whine and moan as i kiss every inch of her gorgeous skin.

i doubt she'd be thrilled with that idea, so i'll take what i can get.

my mouth leaves bites and marks all over her chest before i slide my tongue back to her jaw.

"you taste like my new favorite addiction baby."

she whines against my fingers and i remove them, so i can hear her intoxicating voice.

"you infuriate me." she tries to push against me, but i slam my hands against the locker on either side of her head, once again shoving my chest against hers. i'm so close. i can see that fire burning in her eyes.

more.

i smirk, staring down at her puffed out lips. "someone's mad."

"fuck you."

"baby, you know i love it when you talk dirty to me."

she grabs me by the throat, her nails digging ruthlessly into the sides. "you need to stay the hell away from me."

"no." i try to step closer and she tightens her grip until i can barely breathe. my lungs burn, and i can feel the veins in my neck bulging.

"i'm going to fucking kill you."

"mmm. i love it when you get rough."

"you think i'm joking?" her short acrylics sink into my skin.

"tell me more. your mouth makes me so fucking hard." i roll my hips and slam them against her again,

and fuck.

fuck me.

"i can feel your pussy though your shorts. you're wet babydoll. if i touch you, will i find you dripping for me?"

"you fucking-" she cuts her own self off and her fingers compress so hard they shake.

she's shaking. my babydoll, losing her precious control one layer at a time.

and what do i do?

trap her between my teeth and never let go. of course.

"you can fight me, can choke the life out of me, but that won't stop you from wanting me," i strain and wrap my hand around her throat on the hickey that's beginning to re-form. "you came here to stop me from fucking savannah. you weren't mad for her, you were mad at her. you didn't like the way she touched me, right?"

"shut up."

"you're pissed off at me because i let her touch me?"

that beautiful rage shines behind her eyes. but then she says the exact opposite of what she's thinking. "why would i care what you do?"

"always playing a role, doll. hiding, pretending. you broke up with him tonight? why didn't you tell me that?"

"how..?"

"he told me he was going through a breakup and was looking to forget during practice this morning." i try to get my head closer but she keeps me in place with her unyielding hold. "you did it for me, didn't you? you lost him because i told you to. no. you did it because you wanted to be with me. because you know i'm the only one who can give you what you need."

"stop dreaming."

"stop fucking pretending." i remove the band-aid on her thigh, revealing only tattoo she only kept hidden. my fucking name in black cursive letters. "stop hiding."

she shakes her head, but her fingers loosen around my throat. y/n isn't weak. sure, i'm bigger, but she has strength. the reason she let me touch her pervious times isn't because she couldn't stop me. it's because she chose not to stop me.

like right now.

her war for control breaks like ice beneath her feet.

i'm the lake waiting to swallow her.

my fingers spread on her sharp jaw, my lips an inch from hers.

"dont...." she whispers and it's shaky, breathless.

she clearly wants me. she's burning for it. her body language gives her away. eyes darkening, nostrils flaring, and fingers holding my neck so lovingly (though she'd argue otherwise).

but she's still fighting tooth and nail, still refusing to admit the inevitable.

"wanna blame me again?" i murmur against her skin.

a puff of air leaves her mouth and she nods once.

"then blame me all you want, baby."

i slam my lips to hers, taking what's mine.

because she is.

mine.

niyah speaks i hate this.

taglist: @mattslolita @mattssluttygf @muwapsturniolo @zniyadgaf

[doggone-devil]

How (Not) to Lose Your Soul: Chapter 1

And today is the day, my Dear Readers! We are back with the sequel to How (Not) to Summon a Demon! While I'm extremely nervous to post as this chapter took a bit longer to write than I'd hope, I am also excited to post it and get this story rolling. So without further ado, here is chapter one of How (Not) to Lose Your Soul! Pairing: Alastor x fem!Reader Warnings: bit of profanity

Gold paints your skin with the morning sun as light dances with you in a field of grass. A cool breeze tickles your neck, your hair whirling around you as you spin, faster and faster. Giggles, bubbling like champagne, erupt from your chest as you're lowered backwards, one arm clasp around a slender neck while you throw the other above you, curving into the dip. Red eyes search for yours, smile stretching wide when they meet as a soft whisper brushes against your skin, "Ma Chérie."

Your smile matches his as he brings you upright, hands settling on his chest. Your heart swells when you see how he looks at you, love written clearly across his face. You tilt your head up, placing a tender kiss upon his cheek. "I love you," you breathe, giggling when he returns the kiss to your forehead.

"I -" He speaks, but you can't hear his words.

"What?" you ask, smile faltering. His brows pinch together and he speaks again, but you hear nothing. The air around you stills, growing cold. The sunlight no longer feeling warm on your skin  as clouds gather overhead. You feel a tug on your leg and scream when a hand starts to pull you down. You reach out for him but he's no longer there, an empty space where he once stood. You scream again, clawing at the grass as you're dragged beneath the ground. Your head is barely above as you gasp for air, coughing as dirt begins to fill your lungs. Your chest is on fire, you can't breathe, you can't breathe, you can't -

You bolt upright in a panic, heart pounding. Your hand flies up to  your throat, rubbing it. There's no dirt as you gasp and cough, sweat beading down your forehead. Tears begin to form as you take in the unfamiliar room. To your left, you hear Veronica groan, rolling over under the covers. A lamp clicks on, dim light spilling into the room.

"What happened?" She sounds worn out but concerned. You wipe at your cheeks, sniffling as you turn your back to her, swinging your legs over the side of the bed.

"N-Nothing, sorry," you croak, voice hoarse. Your hear the blankets move again as she stifles a yawn.

"Another nightmare?" You sniff again, nodding your head. Your hands grip the edge of the bed tightly as his face flashes before you, a bittersweet reminder of what you couldn't have. Veronica sighs behind you. "Wanna talk about it?"

"No." You stand up, walking to the mini fridge on the other side of the room. The water you grab is cold to the touch, soothing as you gulp it down, the bottle crinkling loudly. You spare a glance at a clock hanging on the wall. It's 3:48 in the morning meaning you've only gotten roughly three hours of sleep. Damn.

"We heading out now?" Veronica asks. You throw the empty bottle in the trash before walking to your bag in the corner, pulling out a clean sweater.

"May as well. Still got another two hours to go before we reach Savannah." You slip on a pair of jeans, searching next for your hiking boots. You debate whether to add a jacket, knowing the temperature for the day was going to be cold. The weatherman even warned about ice collecting on the roads, but you doubt it.

"Can't we get at least another hour of sleep? We've already been driving for ten hours yesterday," Veronica complains, falling back onto her pillows. "My butt still hurts!"

"You knew what you were getting in to," you remind her, packing the rest of what you don't need back into your bag. You were surprised at how little you actually needed when it came to hunting demons.

"I know, I know," Veronica states, "and I'm not going anywhere but, damn girlie, can't we slow down just a little? It's not like he's going anywhere any time soon." You frown, standing up straight.

"What?" You're glaring, you know you are, but her words cut through you like a hot knife, stirring up anger.

"Wait, you're taking it the wrong way," she corrects herself.

"Am I?"

"Yes!" She stands up with a huff. "You're acting as if you're on a deadline to find him when in reality, he's not going anywhere. He's an immortal soul in Hell for fuck's sake." Veronica is angry now, too, and for why you're not sure, but it's pissing you off more. What right does she have to be angry? It was you that lost everything, not her. You were the one who had your very love ripped away from you. You were the one here on Earth while he was stuck in Hell, no way of knowing if you were alive or not. For all he knew, you had died and gone to Heaven, never to be with him for all of eternity. No, you had to find him and tell him. You had to summon him back to Earth and tell him that you're alive and well, and that you love him. No matter what it took or how long, this was something you needed to do and Veronica was just going to have to deal with that.

"I might be on a deadline," you say, grabbing your backpack and slinging it onto your shoulder. You don't wait for her as you head to the hotel room door.

"What do you mean?" she asks, nearly tripping as she tries to get dress in a hurry to follow you.

"His book was stolen, taken. That means whatever is trying to stop me from summoning him will be trying to keep me from finding other ways to get to him." It made sense to you. Ever since your encounter with the angel, her words a solemn warning, you knew time was against you. Your jaw tightens as you remember what she had said, 'Let's see if you can find your filthy demon again.' 

"Wait up," Veronica pants, closing the door behind her. You make your way down the steps of the building to the parking lot below. As you reach your car, you pop the trunk and toss your bag inside before slamming it close again. Veronica finally catches up. "Look, I'm sorry," she apologizes, "I didn't mean to sound -"

"Like a bitch?" you finish for her. She flinches and you sigh, turning to face her. "I'm sorry, too." Veronica pulls you into a tight hug.

"We'll find him, girlie, I know we will," she says. You clear your throat, not wanting to cry for what seemed like the hundredth time that week.

"I'm going to go return this key. Start the car for me, yeah?" You toss her the car keys and walk to the hotel front desk. There's no one here, the office empty as you look around. Shrugging, you drop the keys on to the desk. As you turn, a cold breath breathes down your spine. You whip around, ready to punch whoever is that close to you, but there's nothing.

"Hello?" you call out. You feel the same cold air tickle your neck again except now, a hand joins it, gripping your throat tightly. You raise your hands to claw at the hand but feel nothing. It's like the air itself is choking you, pressure causing your head to grow faint as you struggle to breathe.

"Turn back," a voice whispers into your ear. You feel your feet leave the floor, dangling as you're lifted up. "Go Home." Your eyes roll to the back of your head, vision going black. Just as you feel yourself slipping from consciousness, your dropped to the floor harshly, falling to your knees. You cough roughly, inhaling gulps of air to refill your lungs, chest burning.

"Are you ok?" You see an older woman come into view from behind the office desk, her blue eyes worried as she looks you over. You stand weakly, ignoring her and pushing open the door to step outside. Veronica stands by your car, messing with her phone before looking up at you. Her eyes widen as she moves to intercept you, her hands gently reaching for your neck.

"The fuck happened?" She looks past you to the office then back to you, her nostrils flaring angrily. You shake your head, stepping around her. "Was it them again? I swear, if I catch them doing it, I'm gonna -" she pauses, "- probably not be able to do anything, but I will give them an earful!"

"It's becoming more frequent," you mumble. You climb into your car, starting the engine. Pulling up your phone, you select a route to Savannah, Georgia. Veronica hops in next to you, buckling her seatbelt.

"Think we're getting close?" she asks. You shrug, placing your phone on the mount that sits on your dashboard.

"Don't know, but I like to think that's the case." You buckle up, putting the car in reverse. "Why else would they be actively trying to kill me?" The tires screech as you pull out onto the highway, headlights bright as you drive.

"I still can't believe it," Veronica shakes her head. tucking a leg beneath her. “Demons, angels, heaven, hell; I miss being ignorant to all of this.” You want to say you agree with her, that you want to return to a world where you still believed science over faith. You can’t, though. Alastor had opened you up to a brand new world and even if they skies were darker without him right now, you wouldn’t change a thing. “Are you sure it’s angels?” She tucks a leg beneath her, her arm propping on the door.

“Not really?” You take an exit that directs you towards the interstate the continue, “I’ve only met one but she made it pretty clear that all of heaven is against me.” You can’t forget what she said, her words replaying in your head. ‘Let's see if you can find your filthy demon again.’ Your grip on the steering wheel tightens, knuckles going white. If this was a challenge, then you were going to win and smugly rub it in her face.

Veronica shifts in her seat, grabbing the folded map sitting between you. It’s wrinkled and worn, red circles placed in different areas with notes scribbled next to them. She spreads it open, taking a look. “You said we’re heading to Savannah, right?” You nod your head in confirmation and she continues. “According to this, we’re gonna be looking for an old plantation house. Apparently the previous owners claim it to be haunted by a demon.” She shudders, putting the map back.

“Hopefully the rumors are true,” you say. You don’t want this to be just another dead end like the previous four places you’ve visited. Truth be told, they were all long shots, each destination hand picked from hours of online research. You looked for everything from ghost stories to possessions, marking down the ones that seemed particularly promising. The first four left you empty handed, the rumors being just that with not a single demon to be found. It hurt, thinking all of this would be for nothing, but you had to push on. You just had to, for him.

Ignoring the way your mind wandered, you placed your focus back on the road. Traffic was nonexistent as you drive, speeds exceeding local limits to make up for lost time. As you draw closer to the coastal city, the sky starts to lighten up. It’s nearly six in the morning when you make it, traffic building as people begin to head to work. You slow down, filtering in as you hand Veronica your phone.

“Put in that house address, will ya?” you ask. As she updates the route, you search for a gas station, nature calling. Spotting a exon, you quickly park at a pump and turn off the car. “Be right back.” You step out and walk swiftly to the small building, beelining for the bathroom. You excuse yourself as you bump into a rather tall man, disappearing into the restroom for a minute. When you come back out, the same man is a few feet away, occupying himself with a random bag of chips. Normally you wouldn’t pay no mind to a stranger, but the way he’s dressed has the hair on your neck standing up.

Wearing all black and darkened sunglasses, he looks straight out of an action film, like a bad guy waiting to ambush the protagonist. You keep an eye on him as you head to the coolers, grabbing two cokes for you and Veronica. You walk up to the register and set them down, waiting as the cashier rings them up.

“That’ll be $4.35.” You pull out your card and pay, taking the drinks and heading out the door. You quickly climb back into your car, handing Veronica hers. As you start your car, you see the man walk out, looking around before pausing when he sees you. Fuck.

“Hang on,” you mumble, giving Veronica no time to react as you put the car in gear and peel out of the station. As you merge into traffic, you check your rear view mirror to see if the man followed you, but he’s still standing in the parking lot. You relax a little and focus on the road.

“The hell? We being chased or something?” Veronica asks, turning in her seat to look out the back of the car. "Is it more angels?" She starts to panic, grabbing the handle above her on the car roof.

“I thought,” you shake your head. “Never mind.” You’re being paranoid, the events earlier at the hotel being to blame, you think. The guy could've been lost or waiting for someone. Maybe you should've listened to Veronica and stayed at the hotel a few hours more. No, you think to yourself, whether or not you're actually on a deadline, you didn't want to waste any more time. You heart aches with the need to see him again, to hold him, to hear his voice call your name.

You blink back the tears and continue driving, praying to the Universe for this lead to be the one.

Whew and that's chapter 1 posted! Thank you all for the comments, likes, and support, and as always, my Dear Readers, I will see you in the next chapter~!

taglist: @i-like-potatoes12533, @girl-nahh-two, @mcntsee, @projectdreamwalker, @sassmasterxx, @alsemain, @yunimimii, @noraunor, @justneo11, @dragonlover123a, @falsemain, @ephemeralxv, @theshello, @wonderlandangelsposts, @weirdflower2024, @yourworstgf, @youroneandonlysimp, @alastorstandard, @florelll, @nyxnightshade7656

*To be added to the taglist, comment below! <3

╰┈➤ Masterlist ✎

[x-liv25-jamieswife]

could you please do some random tig hcs?

random tig head canons

sure! hope you like them <3.

gigi is super obsessed with pasta. she eats it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. she even has this thing called dessert pasta where she eats it with chocolate sauce (its disgusting but she likes it)

gigi once dared xander to make a really weird sex toy cause he's so good at making things (what it was it up to you)

jameson has beat the record for the amount of concussions a human can get in a life time. this dude has had like 25 of them

nash goes around making sure all of his brothers have condoms so they don't end up being teenage dads.

max and gigi are the type of people to write really aesthetic notes.

grayson loves wearing gold sheet masks. he's convinced it makes him glow like a pregnant lady

in tbh, jameson said he was considered the second hottest hawthorne. i know people will say grayson's the first, but i think xander is hotter (sorry not sorry. he's hot but xander >>.)

avery and jameson love giving each other shoulder kisses when they're cuddling in bed.

savannah loves cardigans with her entire being. she likes to look put together in public, but when she's alone in her room, she'll throw on a cardigan.

savannah is super into literature. she's constantly buying books (classics, poetry). she has a tumblr account where she post her poetry

a duck once flew into grayson at such high speed that he fell on the ground and tumbled down a hill (this has never happened and will never happen to anyone but grayson)

max has horrendous taste in men (other than xander). max and avery will be taking a walk when the most horrendous, disgusting looking man who looks like he hasn't showered in 50 years, and could probably pass for a goblin passes by and max goes 'smash'

at events and balls, when max and gigi are bored, they look at the crowd, pick out a person, and decide whether they're a smash or pass

jameson loves munching on ice. he's always eating it

xander and avery have matching tattoos. i don't know what it would be, but they definitely have one.

thea is a petty bitch and has a burn book (no, she is not a girl boss. she's a mean girl who thinks everyone loves her when in reality people despise her guts)

grayson takes freezing cold showers because he once read that it's good for you hair and skin

xander, jamie, and gigi have twerking competitions. they get max and avery to judge.

when avery has a nightmare. she likes to go out on her balcony and stare at the stars. they make her feel close to her mom

xander is super into greek mythology. he has read the percy jackson series and has made extensive research on the topic.

xander journals at night lying on his stomach, in his bed, kicking his feet in the air.

max loves kicking guys in the balls (only pieces of shit, not nice guys (she may or may not have once kicked xander in the balls))

gigi wishes she had a dick for one day so she could stack donuts on it.

nash teases jameson by coming up behind him while he's eating, picking up his spoon, and 'helicoptering' it to his mouth saying here comes to airplane (in a voice that one uses to speak to a baby)(if that makes sense)

grayson has the weirdest but cutest laugh you will ever hear.

jameson knows how to speak in tons of different accents. he changes up his accent everyday. one day, it'll be british, the next, scottish

jameson is a sucker for gold jewelry. this dude has gold chains, necklaces, rings, watches, cufflinks, etc (he looks hot wearing them)

libby loves going strawberry picking. she finds it super relaxing and she loves eating them

grayson owns a typewriter (*cough* the tortured poets department *cough*)

when avery is out with alisa, people will take pictures of her (alisa), post them, and caption them mommy (people simp over her so hard)

they all have a group chat (the hawthornes, avery, libby, max, gigi, savannah, and alisa, (maybe even rebecca and thea)) for emergencies only (or at least, thats what they told themselves when they started it), but gigi is alwyas spamming cat memes, xander is always complaining about his missing eyebrow, and max is always begging her 'sugar mommy' avery to buy her books. basically, the gc is a mess and is the most chaotic thing you'll ever see.

xander wants everyone to call him 'dibbles' but no one does.

they sell merch. there is literally never anything in stock, though, because it's always sold out.

grayson is the type of person to take 249123 different types of vitamins to keep himself healthy

gigi snores so loud, you'd be able to hear her from the neighboring state.