#TOOK THIS AND RAN WITH IT LOL WHOOPS

[shootingstarpilot]

i keep imagining maces pov of when qui-gon gets decked and its so funny to me. this poor man just wants to know where his kid his friends padawan is but unfortunately he only has his his stupid friend whos panicking rn, a troll, and a very concussed soldier (who recognizes him??) who is having the most eventful and stressful days of his life to get any information from. and also theres a dead sith there. rip mace windu shout-out to him for not strangling qui-gon immediately after cody and co leave

...okay, yeah, i'm running with this.

because- mace has valiantly put off punching qui-gon. he has resisted every temptation. violence is so rarely a useful tool. he has not punched qui-gon. he will not punch qui-gon.

he is a jedi.

even when qui-gon returns to the temple self-righteous and indignant and without the child under his care-

he is a jedi.

even when they get the call, and he looks at qui-gon, who looks back at him, hopeful and eager and certain that he will be the one to go, to return, to repent, and mace thinks you do not deserve this and sends him anyway-

he is a jedi.

even when the shuttle returns, dropping out of orbit and straight through mace's stomach when he makes it to the dock just in time to see the healers vanish around the corner, qui-gon standing empty-handed on the landing, staring after them, blood on his tunics and under his fingernails-

he is a jedi.

even when vokara looks them both in the eyes and says infection and trauma and intubate, even when qui-gon asks can i see him? and there's no hint of a we, even during those three awful days of fever where mace finds himself hovering outside the halls with ever more minor errands, feeling obi-wan fade and flicker in the force and occasionally hearing the screams of please and no-! and names he does not know-

even then.

he is a jedi.

three days after obi-wan is pulled from the bacta tank:

another errand. theoretically. for the life of him mace cannot remember what he came here to deliver. but then the door to obi-wan's room opens, and vokara steps out, still speaking, her voice warm, some recounting of one of qui-gon's many misadventures that landed him in her care, and then she turns and sees him and before the door shuts behind her-

"master mace?"

the voice is thin and thready and mace closes his eyes.

"all right?" he whispers to vokara.

she raises an eyebrow. "he's asking for you."

(mace will find out later that this is the first time since his return that obi-wan has dared to asked for anything.)

he steps up to the threshold.

"obi-wan," he says. "may i come in?"

at the nod, mace steps forward and lets the door slide shut behind him. he settles into the chair left faithfully at the side of the bed.

obi-wan looks- unwell.

this is not, perhaps, the most novel observation. but it is one thing to know where and how he'd spent his last year. it is another matter entirely to see the proof of it, even beyond the cavernous wound he'd come home with-

in his size and stature, much smaller than that of a healthy child of his age. in the thinness of his face, the look of hunted hunger. in the scarring on the knuckles of his hands, clenching spasmodically in the layered blankets.

in the way he watches mace.

"obi-wan," mace repeats, and with the sound of his name comes an easing of the weight on his shoulders, each syllable fading into a sigh of relief, and he hadn't known what to say even as he'd stepped into the room- there is so much that needs saying, so many words he cannot find-

he smiles, instead, and rests his hands on his knees. "i have missed you very much."

when obi-wan reaches for him, mace is ready.

he ends up settled on the edge of the bed, one hand around obi-wan's shoulder as the boy curls into his side. he tugs gently at the tangled knot of pain still clouding obi-wan's thoughts, feeding the threads into the force, and feels him relax, bit by bit.

he's not asleep. his grip on mace's robe is too tight. his breathing too fast.

'how are you feeling?" mace asks quietly.

"okay."

the response is immediate, easy, and entirely untruthful.

"do you- need to go?"

mace catches qui-gon's approach. feels him pause.

feels him retreat.

"no," he says. "not at all."

he is a jedi.

there is so much to grieve, in the next few weeks. so much. obi-wan swings between different types of silence- sullen, frightened, exhausted, dissociating. tattered and bleeding in the force. he kicks and punches and bites and sometimes does not leave his room for days on end. he scratches at his skin until he bleeds, picks at his meals with a dull disengagement, sleeps sporadically, if at all-

it is very difficult, sometimes, to not be angry at qui-gon.

but the first time he visits their apartment, obi-wan recoils hard and fast at the first leak of such sentiments from behind his shielding, and mace decides that they have had their full of violence.

he is a jedi.

and besides-

qui-gon talks to him. talks to others, too, who talk between themselves, for no one is willing to let them handle this alone. mace sits and listens and sees the bruises bloom on qui-gon's arms and legs from small hands beating back imagined enemies, and knows anger is not what's needed here.

it persists, yes, but it does not rule.

he is a jedi.

and then-

and then.

(the force is full of screaming.)

the temple lets them through and the gardens are burning and there is a corpse on the floor and obi-wan is-

gone, qui-gon says.

i don't know where. he's gone.

and for a moment mace can hardly breathe under the weight of the fear and the fury and the you have a habit of losing him, don't you?, and he catches the thought and breathes it out, recognizing its roots, its unfairness, drawing his focus to the sith, listening with one ear to qui-gon's recounting even as he presses a hand to the rift, searching for some leeway and finding none, feeling the pressure build behind his eyes, swiping impatiently at the blood drying under his nose-

then something hums.

the soldiers are immensely professional. clear-cut and firm and shielded in the force, understandably reticent with information. but the most disconcerting thing by far...

they look to him.

all of them.

there's a familiarity there.

he's safe with us, the commander says, and looks at him.

safe-with-us, echos the force. safe-with-lightning-safe-with-fighting-safe-with-dying-safe-with-surviving-safe-with-us.

what else can he do but accept it?

he is a jedi.

and then qui-gon-

qui-gon-

well.

he is a jedi.

so he crouches next to him, rests a hand on his shoulder, and when qui-gon turns a shell-shocked gaze on him, says quietly- "come on. let me see."

he is a jedi.

he does not punch qui-gon.

but he is not entirely immune to schadenfreude.

[valiant-portabella-pirkko]

first things first:

a HUGE thank you to all the people who’ve been signal boosting this, you guys are the freakin’ MVPs. I really, genuinely didn’t anticipate this big of a response.

with that in mind, I’ll give at least a little bit of further information here:

I’m currently aiming for the group to open a good while after SotO drops; so it's not quite here yet, but it's definitely in the works. that way we can have some time to see what the new expansion has in store-- both in terms of new content, and new story that might be relevant. I'm personally hoping for a new guild hall, but we'll see!

as things start coming together, I'll make announcements here and there to give a heads up as to what's in progress, and when things start opening up. all of them will be posted to the #GW2 RP tag, so with luck you should see more information roll into there soon!

and now I have a little bit for those wanting to know about the background and plot thus far, too!

the setting would use a little project I've been working on for a while; the Tideturners, a mysterious band of Mistwalkers who have been dwelling outside of Tyria for a long, long while. decades in the Mists have made them cautious and wily, learning to survive in conditions no mortal was meant to endure. the Turnabout is their home now-- and for many, the opportunity for a new beginning. you'll find faces both old and new among their ranks.... friends and foes alike wander their halls, but none of them are quite the way you recall.

if you'd like to know a bit about their origins, I've got a rough character summary on their 'founder,' the Sidewinder. it's a bit on the older side, but it should be enough to get the gist!

I aim to start things off fairly low-stakes, but if participants are interested, there would be some long-term plots to uncover as well. the Mists are filled with unknown threats, and many are far too large for even a Commander to handle alone. the forces that robbed the Tideturners of their home are still out there... and they're on the move. be ready for anything. the tide is coming in, and it's closer than you think.

Your world is just about to get a whole lot bigger.

alright. know what? with Secrets of the Obscure right around the corner and plenty of new Mists-related sky island settings coming with it, I'll just bite the bullet and interest-check a little something I've been turning in my head for a long, long while.

would YOU be interested in a Mists-based GW2 roleplay guild that uses a lore compliant multiverse system to allow canon, canon-adjacent, lore-breaking, and otherwise 'contradictory' muses to coexist in the same setting?

simply put: every writer's cast would be set in their own self-contained universe. as such, everyone could bring whatever muses they want with their own personal headcanons, and no one could dictate what is or isn't canon for anyone else. so long as your muses are GW2-based, you're good to go! bring your Commanders, bring your canon-divergent OCs, bring your canon muses-- and yes, even the ones that are 'supposed' to be dead. who can say what might have happened in a strange world far across the Mists, after all?

neutral hubs and in-character safety guardrails would be in place to keep all muses on a relatively even playing field regardless of their power, history, and prestige, too. play hardball if you like, but it might not end quite the way you'd hope. the main rule would be to maintain good OOC etiquette at all times: no godmodding, no metagaming, no theft, don't blend IC and OOC, and so-on.

if that sounds like something you might have interest in, please interact with this post! and if you've got questions or concerns, I'd love to hear them; feel free to send an ask or a DM, or just reply to this post!

[jamminvroomvroom]

4 with lando :)))

flashing lights - kanye west (respect the art not the artist!)

LN4 x reader

tysm for the request xoxo!! finally continuing my requests (sorry it took ages whoops) flipped my list and went from the bottom for this bc otherwise we were gonna have some repeats lol

images below from pinterest - i claim no ownership 🙃

warnings: none! some swearing, some fluff, lando being a funny little camera shy pr machine - but fr minors pls just dni with my work okay tysm!!!

lando was frantically pacing your apartment when you walked in, eyes wild, as if he hadn’t slept, and hair an absolute disheveled state. his usually sun-kissed skin seemed to get even paler when he heard the door shut behind you, coming to a halt in your kitchen and staring at you as though he’d seen a ghost.

“lando?” you questioned, confused as to, a) why he was here so early, and b) why he looked like he was about to confess that he had killed your entire bloodline.

“baby, i’m so sorry.” your blood ran cold. what had he done? he closed the space between you, tentatively taking your hands.

“lando… what’s going on?” you tilted your head, starting to sweat in your oversized leather jacket. you’d just been out running errands, picking up bits for the dinner you were supposed to be sharing with the mclaren driver, much later in the day.

“i didn’t think anyone had seen us but then i had my assistant, the entire pr department and my mother phoning me, and then max called and said that him and pietra wanted to see if we were okay, before i could call anyone else back which confused the fuck outta me, so i finally checked twitter and there it was and i just got in the car and came here but god, i’m so sorry.” lando finally exhaled, looking like he was about to pass out, with creases so deep on his forehead that you thought they’d stay there permanently.

“okay, lando? sweetheart? yeah, okay i’m gonna need a bit more info.” you over enunciated each word, stressing that you were still in the absolute dark about whatever was on the verge of sending him into cardiac arrest.

“there’s photos. of us. kissing.” he finally said, quietly, and after a good ten seconds of staring at you in utter fear.

“fucking hell, i thought something terrible had happened. jesus christ, lando.” you exhaled, eyes wide. he stared at you like you’d grown a second head, stepping forward to mockingly rest his hand against your forehead as if he was checking your temperature.

“are you… are you… okay?” lando asked, eyebrow quirked. he was shocked at how calm you were.

you’d both agreed to keep your relationship private, and over the last five months, that had gone swimmingly well. but some low quality photos taken, as you waited for some friends outside a restaurant in the outskirts of london, had fucking launched the cat out of the bag.

“how bad are the pictures? are we naked or something?” you scoffed at him and now lando was truly confused.

“no, but- but i thought we were gonna keep this quiet.” he murmured.

“i know, baby, but okay, it’s out. is that really so bad? it was bound to happen eventually.” you reasoned, and lando finally saw your point.

“i just want to protect you, from all of the lights and the flashing cameras. love you too much to lose you to those vultures.” lando dipped his forehead against yours as he spoke, eyes locked on yours. you couldn’t help but smile at him, the loveliest man you could have wished for.

“oh, my sweet, sweet boy,” you crooned, pecking his lips. “you know i love to show off.” he laughed at that, a low rumbling in his chest.

you pulled away, stepping around him and walking further into your apartment, dropping all of your stuff down in your kitchen.

“anyways, i already saw the pictures. we look hot.” you ignored his incredulous ‘what?’, waving him off. “now, come here and help me make dinner.”

[sirensea14]

SMILING CRITTERS X BULLIED!READER

Scenario: you are friends with the smiling critters and one day, they found out you were being bullied (lets say there are (3) bully npc's in the cartoon lol)

These Cartoon counterparts seem to be a bit... ooc...

Warning: bullying, violence, "worst case scenario" added for dogday, craftycorn roasting, hoppy choosing violence and rejecting humanity, catnap being catnap, writing may be a bit sloppy and weird lol

A/n: this had got to be one of the most random ideas i had

DogDay

As the leader of the Smiling Critters and your friend, he tries to resolve this in a peaceful manner. He confronts the bullies with you tagged along and attempts to make them apologize to you and wants them to compensate by cleaning the school, canteen and the garden by a whole week.

Of course, the bullies won't do it, so he goes to the teachers to address the problem.

The bullies are punished and will have cleaning duties for more than a week.

Worst case scenario (because i wanted to /j):

If the bullies resorted to violence in an attempt to scare DogDay, he fought back and defended you. You ran for help but one got out of his reach and punched you, he bit the one/s he's fighting and rushed at your aid and barked at the bully. "DON'T YOU DARE HURT MY FRIEND AGAIN!!"

The bullies got scared and ran to the clinic but DogDay barked and chased them until they were punished by the nurse and teachers.

You asked DogDay if he was okay, he grinned at you with a thumbs up, saying, "Of course I am! I will never let anyone dim you down!"

You smiled at his conviction, you were happy that you had such a sunny friend.

Bobby BearHug

After knowing you were being bullied, she immediately went to confront them. You were so scared and you didn't want her to get hurt, but she reassured you she can handle it and winked.

Reaching the bullies' spot, she confronted them. The bulkies glared at you and you cowered behind the bear's back, "So i heard you were bullying my friend? You better pay for that. You must apologize to my friend, now" She hissed, crossing her arms. The bullies simply laughed.

Bobby didnt hesitate to punch the bully on his face. His nose bled. Bobby was a sweet soul, but she's a bear, a predator, a tough cookie to crack. "DO I HAVE TO REPEAT WHAT I SAID?! APOLOGIZE TO MY FRIEND. NOW."

The bullies apologized while trembling in fear. "You can go back to whatever business you are doing now," she said in sweetly, though, there was venom to it, "Dare try to bully my friend once more and I will make sure to tear your limbs apart, skin you alive and--"

You tapped Bobby's shoulder before she went on full detail. "Whoops!" She giggled, scratching the back of her head looking at you. "Now, GO HOME." She pointed out at them, "Please!" of course, she never forgets her manners. That's not very Bobby if she didnt mind her manners, even to her enemies.

KickinChicken

Oh expect this bird to not handle things peacefully, especially with you being hurt. You were away from him, doing your own things. He went to the bullies, but of course, he can't go alone. He knows he can't handle them so he asked DogDay and Hoppy to hop along with him.

Hoppy looked like she was about to murder someone... a baseball bat was with her. DogDay and Kickin talked it out first with the bullies. But when they wouldn't budge, Hoppy stepped in and handed Kickin the bat. "NOW, WHO WANTS TO GO FIRST?" He tapped the bat to his wing. DogDay was against it, but didn't protest, Hoppy was trying not to smirk at the bullies.

The 3 critters and the bullied were headed to your way. You got startled and scared but DogDay, Kickin and Hoppy immediately went to your side. "Now, APOLOGIZE." Kickin forced a smile at them, and they apologized to you.

After that, DogDay took them in for their punishment. Hoppy taked the bat back so that she can go back playing baseball with the others. You thabked Kickin for his action and he blushed, brushing it off as "nothing". You and him sat by a tree and watched the other critters play on the field.

Hoppy Hopscotch

"Wait--Hoppy!" Yoy tried to stop Hoppy from going to the bullies. But she immediately scolded you for being a coward for not telling her this, you explained they threatened you but she didn't listen. "THOSE MFS ARE NO MATCH FOR ME," she spat on the ground.

As soon as you twto spotted the bullies, she didn't waste any time and immediately launched her fists at them. Knocking them off guard. She didnt let any of them escape her wrath. And then she grabbed your hand to run and leave them alone in the open.

CraftyCorn

Crafty was aware of it. "Why aren't you telling me this? We're friends!" She yelled at you. You explained they were going to hurt you if--"Let's go to them!" Crafty smatched your hand and went to the bullies.

Before you knew it, you were corned by the bullies. Taunting and laughing at you two. At first, fear was on ghe unicorn's face but it immediately changed to anger. "You're bullying my friend! You know you shouldn't be doing that!"

"Oh yeah? What're you gonna do about it, horse piss? Your friend's quite a coward and seems to be undeserving to be here." One of the bullies taunted her.

"YOU INSULTING MY FRIEND SHOWS HOW MUCH YOU'RE SO INSECURE ABOUT YOURSELF, IT TELLS A LOT ABOUT YOU, YKNOW?" Crafty snapped.

"COWARD. UGLY. USELESS. TRASH. GOOD FOR NOTHING. YOUR BIRTH WAS A MISTAKE." She added. Then you two turned around and left, you can tell that crafty was so angry because of her trembling hooves. The bully targeted by Crafty's words cried while his other two friends mocked him for being a crybaby.

Moments later--"Ah! I'm sorry! I didnt mamage to make them apologize to you! Sorrysorrysorry--!" Crafty apologized to you. "No, no! It's okay, Crafty! What you said was way more satisfying," in all silliness, you stuck your tongue out. Crafty giggled and she went back to pher canvas,ready to paint another new piece,"oh? Whats that called?" You asked as she sketched out what seems to be shadows looming over a figure protecting a smaller one behind it, there were separated figures at their opposite side, seemingly the figure with shadiws protecting the smaller one from attackers.

"Oh this? I call it... 'Happy Snappy!"

PickyPiggy

Picky was uneasy that day. Ever since she knew you were being bullied, she wasted no time to gather all the trash and dump it anywhere where the bullies would have been to. "HEHEHEHEHE..." The bullies ended up getting scolded by the teachers for dumping 'their' trash around. Pickypiggy snickered behind a tree, watching them from afar. She was quite fast and undetectable.

The bullies bags' had trash in them, their armchairs full of waste.

Then she tricked them into meeting up in a corner, she had full trash cans up on the roof, Hoppy and Kickin assisting her. Then they dumped the pile at them. You took the chance to run and report it to the teachers.

The trio fist bumped in victory and Picky was grateful for their help. She went back to you as you told her the weird thing that happened to the bullies--while eating cookies together.

Bubba Bubbaphant

The smart guy of the group. He was devastated at the fact that you didnt told him anything about your situation. He confronted them in full glasses nerd mode on, you came up to him and told him not to challenge them any further. He ended up getting beaten up by the bullies, he wasnt able to fight. Good thing DogDay was patrolling the area nearbt you.

Bubba was sent to a clinic, but he talked to DogDay first for a special request.

The next day, "man, this room sucks." One of the bullies complained. "What are we doing here anyway?" One of them groaned. They were in detention for two weeks, "How are we supposed to go to our classes now?"

Just in time, Bubba walked inside the room, "Okay class, I'll be your teacher for the next two weeks." He sneered at them. The bullies groaned at him as he wrote down a hell of math on the board. "This is your punishment for bullying a friend of mine, bear with it, losers."

CatNap

And of course, CatNap. He was a sleepyhead of a friend, when he knew you were being bullied, he simply 'slept'.

By nighttime, he went one by one to the bullies' houses. Scaring them and making them scream so loud. He was giving them nightmares with the message of "VIOLENCE OR SILENCE?" This went on for a long time until they gave up bullying you and went on full silent mode.

CatNap still haunts them even if they stopped bullying you.

[lilithslittleworld]

The Chosen One

A/N: First Harry fanfic whoop whoop! I realize this is a lil kinky and for that I will not apologize lol.

also this is a tiktok that kind of fueled this fanfic??? *dying*

CW: 18+, fingering, oral sex, bondage, humiliation, Harry (sub) x Reader (dom)

Summary: Tying knots is a very useful charm, especially if faced with danger. But you can think of a better use for it.

"It is very simple," Flitwick's voice echoed against the cold, stone walls of the classroom, "One must simply repeat the incantation 'Nodare nodum' and in a matter of milliseconds, the person or object to who it was directed to will find themselves unable to move."

You sat wedged between Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom, both of which had begun practicing the charm on the little piece of string Professor Flitwick had handed out at the beginning of the class. But you were still close enough to overhear the boys' conversations.

"I heard Fred say he used this on a girl a couple of years ago," Ron whispered to Harry, his eyes wide with curiosity.

Harry paid no attention to his friend's remark, far too absorbed in his incantation. Ron huffed at his indifference and was suddenly annoyed with the string in front of him.

"How would that even work?" Harry finally took the bait, only he was serious about his question.

Ron perked up immediately, turning his whole body and attention to his friend. "Well, I never really asked. Kind of gross to think about what my brothers do and don't do. But I think it's to keep one of you still?"

"Okay, okay, okay. I get it, Ron," Harry blushed, returning to the task at hand. You were sure you had seen his eyes widen with excitement at Ron's words but you couldn't be sure. What you did know was that your afternoon with Harry had just become much more interesting.

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

There was a soft knock at your door and you were sure it was Harry. To no surprise, there he stood, wand and all, ready to go over potions, your weakest subject.

"Hello, Y/N," Harry smiled politely at you as he walked into your empty dormitory room. Thankfully, your roommates were out at the quidditch pitch, at the library, or God knows where else.

"Hey, Harry," you nodded in response, pulling up a chair for him at your desk. You groaned at the sight of today's lecture notes, dreading the class ahead.

"Don't worry, I think I've found a way to make it more interesting and a little easier to understand," he said gently, as you put your face in your hands. He rubbed your back awkwardly until you peeked up at him, ready to begin the lecture.

Harry made an effort throughout the session to try and make it fun, just as he'd said. But there were more important things on your mind. You weren't crazy for the idea you had, as it was obvious that Harry had a crush on you, though he'd never admit to it alone. The way his stutter came up the second you appeared, all of the hours spent tutoring you so you wouldn't fall behind, and the way his cheeks turned pink when you ran into him. The boy was simply shy and would never make the first move, or any move for that matter.

"What did you think about the new charm?" you asked innocently, rolling your quill around your partially completed homework.

Harry scribbled away but paused to contemplate your question. "I think it can come in handy for a number of situations," he replied. And that was the end of the conversation for the rest of the hour.

You felt deflated after your little studying session, partly due to potions being the subject and partly because of Harry's disinterest. But then something unexpected happened.

"Can I ask you something, Y/N?" Harry asked, as he gathered the last of his supplies from your desk. His facial expression was unreadable but the way he fidgeted with the corner of his cloak gave away his nervousness.

"Of course," you answered warmly.

Harry seemed to struggle to find the words to say because he was silent for half a minute, his eyebrows pinched, almost disappearing behind the curve of his glasses. "It's silly but Ron said something in Charms and it got me wondering. He said Fred had used the spell on girls, when they had...um- you know. Is that something girls really like?" Harry's face was now bright red and his gaze was trained on the floor.

You smiled at the blushing boy before you, trying so hard to contain the laughter that was just about to burst out of you. "Well not all girls, Harry, it just depends on who you ask."

Harry's eyes still wouldn't meet yours. "Is that...something you like?"

"Well, it's not something I've tried yet but it's definitely appealing," you smirked, suddenly aware of the speed at which your heart was beating.

He lifted his eyes to yours, the embarrassment on his cheeks still hadn't vanished completely but it was less pronounced now. "I haven't really tried anything at all if that makes you feel any better," he confessed.

"Well," you said softly, "that's something we could change right now. Aren't you the Chosen One?"

Harry laughed, shaking his head incredulously. "God, what a stupid nickname, huh?"

"I wasn't kidding, you know?" you said.

"I don't even know what to do, Y/N," he sighed, "It won't be any good even if it's something I've dreamed about doing."

The heat under between your tightly pressed legs grew at the idea of Harry thinking about kissing you, touching you, being inside of you. "I can teach you. Tutoring 2.0."

Harry considered your offer in silence, fidgeting with his hands as he did. "Okay. Teach me," he said eagerly, nudging his glasses back into place that had begun to slide down his nose.

You smiled, taking a few short steps until your face was just inches away from his. "So," you began, reaching out a tentative hand to stroke his face with your gentle touch, "You said you've been dreaming about doing this with me?"

Harry's breath quickened as you touched him and you could feel his pulse speeding up as you trailed your fingers down his neck. "I have," he whispered.

"Hmmm...and what have you absolutely dreamed about doing to me?" you murmured, bringing your lips to his neck as Harry stifled a moan.

"I think about you all the time. About how you must kiss, how soft and warm your skin would feel against mine, how you must sound," he choked out, his lips curving into a slight smile as he confessed his fantasies. The poor boy was so clearly flustered by just the idea of you but he seemed to relish it.

Suddenly your lips were on his, no longer interested in formalities. Harry's lips moved earnestly against yours as if you were the air he breathed, the gravity that held him to this Earth. He was a surprisingly good kisser for not having had much experience. You ran your fingers through his hair, feeling Harry sigh into your mouth as he ran his hands down your back, pulling you closer to him.

"What else do you think about?" you asked him breathlessly, pulling away to kiss his neck. You knew you had found his sweet spot when the moans he had tried to contain before came tumbling from his lips.

"M-me doing anything and everything you ask me to," he breathed, closing his eyes as your lips made their way down his clothed chest and torso. A shiver ran down your spine as he said those words, his desire for you was now so clear.

"You think you can handle me, huh?" you teased, just barely lifting his shirt with your nose, your lips grazing his stomach. You could feel his stomach quivering beneath your lips, your nose brushing his happy trail, taking in his musk.

"I'm a big boy," he replied, squeezing his eyes shut as you continued to taunt him, sounding so sure of himself.

You were on your knees now, eyelevel with the bulge that was now so visibly tight against his pants. You ran a hand gently over his contained erection, feeling him twitch underneath the cloth that separated you from his skin, his moans now uncontainable.

"Please, Y/N," Harry groaned, the pleading had reached his lust-filled eyes but hearing him beg was all you ever wanted. You had half a mind to tear off his robe along with the rest of his clothes but you knew you needed to pace this evening for the sake of both of you.

Your fingers undid the button on his pants easily, pulling them down as you left Harry in just his checkered boxers and shirt.

"Take off your shirt," you instructed, smiling up at him angelically. Harry nodded intently as he pulled the fabric over his head. His pale chest was slim but strong, a taste of abs showing up further down.

"Perfect," you murmured, kissing his navel and stopping at the edge of his boxers. In one swift tug, they were at his ankles, exposing his warm, hard dick that had bounced against his stomach. You brought your lips softly to his length, kissing it as you made your way up to his tip, your own cunt fluttering as you heard him moaning above you.

"Tie me," he whispered, his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as you continued to kiss him.

You stopped at his words, his cock in your hand. "Are you sure?"

Harry nodded, his eager smile lighting up his face as you grabbed your wand from your desk. You pointed it at him before whispering "Nodare nodum" and in an instant, Harry's hands were tied behind his back and kneeling before you.

"What are you going to do?"

You took a step back, wordlessly, as you undid your robe, leaving you in your favorite lingerie set. Harry's eyes lit up at the sight of you, you swore you saw him squirm for a second. You leaned down over him, pressing your lips to his, tasting his desperation as you undid your bra.

"You're so beautiful," he breathed, looking up at you through his glasses. You smiled, caressing his face with a gentle hand, watching as he leaned his weight against it.

"Wanna taste?" you asked him, playing with your boobs.

"God, yes," he whined, his puppy eyes were working their magic on you. You straddled him, ignoring the fact that you were probably crushing his knees in the process, bringing your breasts closer to his already open mouth. You weren't expecting his mouth to feel so good, so heavenly against your boobs but it did. His tongue swirling around your hardened nipple, his lips dragging themselves along your chest as he sucked on your other boob. The noises he made were exquisite and you could feel him growing harder by the minute between your legs. You took on the silent cue, grinding your cunt against him, both of your moans filling the room.

"Y/N," Harry panted as he struggled to free his hands from the knots he had so desperately begged for before, "Need to feel you."

"Only if you promise to listen to what I say," you murmured, grinding against him at an unbelievable pace. He felt so fucking good beneath you.

"I'll do anything you say," he promised. You pointed your wand at him once again, speaking the word "consummavi" as you watched the ropes untie themselves and vanish in the air.

Harry's hands found your body clumsily, pulling you to him as his lips came crashing against yours. He broke away to kiss your neck, your chest, and over your panties.

"You can take those off," you said, your body trembling with anticipation for some sort of release. You just knew Harry's tongue would do wonders to your aching pussy.

He rolled the flimsy fabric down your hips, his eyes glued to you, gasping when he saw you.

"Lie down," he said, his hands guiding you back towards your bed, laying you gently down on it.

"Looks like someone's taking over," you laughed breathlessly, watching as Harry lowered himself onto his knees, his elbows resting on the edge of your bed, now eyelevel with your open legs.

"I couldn't contain myself," he sighed as he pressed his lips to your inner thighs, his warm breath teasing you, "You're so beautiful, Y/N."

You reached a hand out to stroke his hair as he brought his lips against you. He kissed your cunt with feather-like lips, sending a wave of pleasure through your body. Harry's tongue soon made contact with your sensitive bud, tracing soft circles against it as your fingers gripped his hair.

"Harry," you moaned as you looked down at him, a beautiful sight. He kept going, his circles getting faster, the pressure getting harder. You could feel yourself get closer with every second that ticked by, your hips bucking involuntarily against his face.

"Mmm," he breathed, sending vibrations that coursed through your entire being. He was surprisingly magnificent at eating you out, despite it being his first time. But Harry was a fast learner.

"Harry," you tried again but were interrupted by another moan that slipped from your lips, "I want you inside of me."

Harry's tongue slowed down slightly, his eyes meeting yours with an excited expression behind them. After a few seconds, he pulled his lips away from you, climbing up on top of you, his lips against yours.

You broke away from the kiss before it lead to something more. "How about you try that charm on me?" you winked at him, getting down on all fours before him, you back to him and your arms extended back towards him.

"Merlin," Harry breathed, his eyes widening as he realized what you were saying, "Only if you want."

"I do," you assured him. Harry pulled out his wand from his crumpled up robe on the floor and spoke the incantation, the rope tying your hands behind your back. They were surprisingly soft, compared to the one you had practiced on in the lecture.

"Harry," you whined, suddenly impatient with the fact that you still felt nothing, "Please."

In an instant, you felt Harry's hands on your ass, steadying you as to not fall forward. You could feel him spreading you open once more, lining himself with your opening. You whined as he pushed himself slowly into you, surprised at how big he felt inside of you.

"God," Harry choked out, his grip tightening as he felt you, "You feel incredible."

"So do you," you cooed, silently hoping he would soon speed up, "You can go faster."

Harry hesitated, peering over at you. "Are you sure this doesn't hurt?"

You shook your head, "It feels bloody amazing." Harry groaned in response, pulling himself halfway out of you before pushing his cock back inside of you. His hips slapped against your ass, his hands holding your own tied hands as he sped up. You moaned as he hit your G-spot, clenching around him, feeling him twitch deep within you.

"Just like that," you whimpered, the pleasure overwhelming your every sense. You couldn't think straight, all you could think about was Harry's dick going in and out of you.

Harry wasn't any better, his own groans interrupting his incoherent sentences, your name spilling from his lips, hips bucking into your at a delicious speed.

"Y/N," he pleaded breathlessly, "I'm close," was all he could say.

"Cum inside of me," you encouraged him, knowing you too were close to your own orgasm.

"Bloody hell that's hot," Harry groaned, his thrusts slowly becoming sloppier as he neared his climax. You, however, beat him to it. Your orgasm came like a giant wave of pleasure, momentarily blinding you as you felt yourself clench around him, moaning his name as you did. Harry came seconds after you did, his hands gripping your hips tightly, panting your name as he buried himself deep inside of you one last time. Breathlessly, he nuzzled his head against your back, his arms enveloping your waist.

"Wow," he sighed, planting soft kisses on your back and nape.

"Wow, indeed," you agreed, trying hard to catch your own breath, "Think you could untie me?"

Harry apologized profusely and repetitively as you assured him that you were fine. He reached for his wand, whispering "consummavi" as your wrists became bare. You turned to Harry and found him slightly sweaty, cheeks pink, and with a smile, his disheveled hair framing his face. You pulled him back to your bed, nestling your body in his lap, his arms around you as he stroked your arms, your face, your hair.

"You were incredible," Harry said, his lips in your hair.

"Says you," you laughed, "I wouldn't have known it was your first time if you hadn't told me."

Harry smiled, shaking his head slightly, "I don't know about that. But it was even better than I had dreamed."

"Well, you can end your dreaming because I'm all yours, Harry," you whispered.

"Yeah?" he said, pulling you closer to him, his heart beating gently in your right ear as you pressed your head onto his bare chest, "I've been waiting a long time for this day."

"I'm choosing you, Chosen One," you joked, poking his arm as Harry laughed.

"You know," he said, "There is a certain ring to it when you say it..."

You laughed, craning your neck up to kiss the boy you loved once more.

"I'm choosing you too."

-------

A/N: Okay so Harry kind of dommed for a bit at the end, switch coded fr.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Could I please request Casey Novak! She’s my all time favourite baby! Maybe something like how reader is Burning with hatred when the new friend Casey starts to be too touching and affectionate. You can make it angsty or how ever you like. A bit random but I dunno I’m feeling jealous lately I need to get it out of my system before it eats at me more .

Thanks you my love! 🥰

All yours, anon! I don't write a whole lot of angst, so this was fun! (Happy ending tho because of who I am fundamentally lol). Hope you enjoy! --illdowhatiwantthanks

With the Crack of a Bat

Casey Novak x fem!reader Warnings: violent thoughts on the part of the reader (not like murderous or deeply harmful or anything, but... we're definitely wishing ill-will), some angst, very vague references to sex, innuendo (please let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 1.3k

Summary: There's a new girl on yours and Casey's LGBTQ+ softball team, and you do not like how cozy she's getting with your girlfriend.

You sat fuming in the dugout, waiting your turn to bat, the heel of your cleat grinding repeatedly into the dirt-caked concrete. You weren’t usually a jealous person and, in the several months you’d been dating, Casey had done nothing to suggest that she was the kind of person who’d cheat on you. In fact, she’d done quite the opposite, proving herself again and again to be loyal to a fault.

But the new girl–Eloise–she made you more insecure than you’d been since high school. She was everything you weren’t. Lithe where you were stocky. Feminine where you were rough around the edges. Suave and easy and flirtatious where you were awkward and fumbling. In short, she would have been a popular girl. She was popular on the LGBTQ+ softball team. Even just in scrimmages, like today, both sides of your split team vied for Eloise to be their pitcher. She was the best. There was no way around it.

You hated playing catcher for her. She was more of a one-woman show than a team player. She often ignored your play calls. When she pulled it off, it paid off. But you’d allowed more than one stolen base because she threw where you weren’t expecting and you missed the catch.

But today, you’d discovered something you hated even more than playing catcher for her: Casey playing first base for her. Every strikeout, every tag-team play, they were all over each other. Chatty as could be. Hugging, cheering, lingering high-fives. It made you livid. But if you’d examined your anger, you would have found that what it really made you was scared. Scared that Casey would like Eloise more than you because, let’s be honest, what’s not to like?

You swung your bat, letting your shoulders and hips get loose as you waited on deck. A tip of the ball from the batter in front of you–a grounder to Eloise, who scooped it up and tossed it wildly to Casey. It would have been an easy throw to miss, but Casey bent and stretched for it, tagging the runner out at first with only seconds to spare.

Eloise whooped and the two came together for a high-five.

“Hell yeah, Novak,” Eloise called, smacking her ass. You felt your jaws clench. “Gotta love a girl who knows how to bend.” She spoke a little too loud, a little too pointed, especially as you approached the box. She wasn’t even being sly about it anymore. It’s like Eloise was goading you, teasing you, as if she was saying without saying, I could take your girl. Easy.

You took a deep breath and focused. Focused all your rage, all your insecurity, all your desperate love for Casey that felt suddenly so very tenuous, and held it all in your twisted grip on the bat. You exhaled slowly, blood pumping loud in your ears, tensed and ready for Eloise’s pitch. And when it came–wham. You sent it flying–straight into Eloise’s left boob. The thwunk was so unbelievably satisfying, you had to wipe the smile off your face before anyone noticed. Eloise doubled over, clutching her chest, stumbling into the dirt on the pitcher’s mound. The rest of the fielders ran to her.

What you really wanted was to victoriously round the bases, but that seemed in bad taste, so you dropped your bat and walked over to the pitcher’s mound, too.

“Oh my god, Eloise,” you said, trying your best to sound sincere. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all good,” she groaned, taking Casey’s hand and grasping it as she pulled herself to her feet.

You frowned as you watched Casey support Eloise with an arm around her back. This was backfiring. This was not going the way you’d planned. Softball practice effectively dissipated as one of the girls got Eloise some water and another dumped hers to make a makeshift ice pack for her to hold on her chest.

After making sure Eloise was okay, Casey turned to you, glaring. You shrank. This was really not going as planned.

“Get your shit,” Casey said, her voice harsh and flat. “Let’s go.”

You silently gathered your things and followed her to the car, scared by her tone, scared by the fact that she didn’t take your hand on the way to the car like she always did, scared that she seemed well and truly mad–a rarity for Casey.

“Case–” you started, as you both climbed into the car and slammed the doors.

“What the fuck was that!?” she yelled, brows furrowed, face red. “The rest of the team might not know, but you and I know exactly how good your aim is with a bat. That was not an accident, Y/N.”

You were quiet, head bent, trying not to cry. “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Casey shook her head. “What is your deal with her!? You’ve been acting so weird since she joined the team.”

“I’ve been acting weird!?” you shot back, surprised by your own anger. “You’ve been weird. She’s all over you, Casey. She flirts with you constantly. In front of me. And you just… let her!”

Casey looked at you with genuine shock. “What are you talking about?!”

You dashed away a few angry tears that slid down your cheeks. “She’s… she’s so fucking pretty and cool and strong and you clearly like her and I just… I don’t know. I’m sorry. It was dumb.”

“Y/N,” Casey said, her voice cooling a bit. “I like Eloise as a friend. That’s it.”

“Well,” you sniffed. “She likes you as more than a friend. And she acts like it.”

You let out a shaky breath, jumping a bit when you felt Casey’s hands on the side of your warm face. You glanced at her and saw that she was fighting off a smile, her eyebrows raised.

“You’re jealous,” she said, savoring the word, letting it linger. “Is that what this is about?”

You blushed furiously, looking pointedly at the door handle. “I’m sorry. I know it’s stupid.”

Casey sighed, then chuckled a bit, brushing her thumb against your cheekbone. “It’s kind of cute actually. But, Y/N, honey…” She turned your face so you had to look her in the eyes. “I am not flirting with Eloise. I will make it clear to her that I’m in a relationship. Maybe she just didn’t know.”

You had your doubts about this, but you decided to keep quiet about it for the time being.

Casey continued. “But unless she doesn’t respect that boundary, I still want to be friends with her. Okay? You can’t ask me to not be friends with people because you’re jealous.”

You nodded and sighed. “I know. But if she keeps flirting with you anyway?”

“If she keeps coming on to me, I will cut it off. I promise.”

You sighed, grinding your teeth.

“Baby,” Casey said, pressing her forehead to yours, both of you heady with the scents of ballpark dust and sweat and the leather of your gloves. “I can assure you I do not talk to Eloise or anyone else the way I talk to you. Or touch them the way that I touch you.”

You shuddered as she brushed her lips against yours.

“She’s not even my type,” Casey finished, her mouth mere centimeters from yours.

“And what’s your type?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

“You.” And then she kissed you. She kissed you with so much fervor, so much passion, as if she couldn’t communicate how yours she was with mere words, so she had to use her lips instead. And you knew then–just as deep down you’d always know–that Casey wasn’t flirting with anyone else. She wasn’t looking at anyone else. She certainly wasn’t doing this with anyone else. Casey was yours. And you were hers. And you’d do anything and everything to keep it that way.

[jinxedruby]

Whumptober Day Seven: Only for Emergencies

Featuring Twilight, Time, and Legend.

I'm sure Fierce Deity stuff is going to be a very common interpretation of this prompt, but I won't let that stop me lol

Heads up for major injury (mostly descriptions of pain) in this one.

AO3

First part | <- Previous part | Next part ->

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Dust plumed up beneath Twilight’s boots, pebbles scattering as he skid around a sharp bend in the narrow valley between cliffs. Legend spat out a curse and he glanced back, heart slamming against his ribs. Time grabbed hold of Legend’s arm, hauling him up from where he’d tripped. He dragged the collector forward a few steps until Legend regained his footing.

A whistle and flash of heat streaked past Twilight’s ear. He flinched and whipped around, lifting his bow and drawing back the string with cramping fingers. His hand shook as he aimed at yet another bulblin archer that had appeared on one of the clifftops overhead, volleying fire arrows down at the three heroes. His shot hit its mark, the bulblin howling weakly before toppling forward and plummeting to the ground below. Twilight bolted forward again, hopping over the bulblin’s body as he passed, Time and Legend close behind. The path twisted and forked. Twilight hurriedly glanced each way before veering left on the trail leading out of the cliffs. The constant thunder of footfalls behind them never ceased and never faded. Only the narrow canyon they ran through kept them from being surrounded by the horde of monsters, but with more and more monsters figuring out how to scale the cliffs and attack them from above, they needed somewhere with more cover.

Twilight slowed to shoot another archer overhead. He fell into a sprint the moment the shot hit, the muscles in his legs burning with the overexertion. He rounded a bend and skidded to a halt. A large monster blocked the path forward. It had the body of a horse, but instead of a head, an entire torso stood at its front. The man-like arms and abdomen gave way to a beast-like head, with a full mane and curved horns.

“What is-” Twilight cut off with a grunt as Time and Legend ran into him from behind, nearly knocking all three of them over. He threw a glance at them to see if either of them recognized the monster. Time scrutinized it with a narrowed eye. The color drained from Legend’s face.

“Back, back, go back!” Legend yelled. He pushed Time back a step, grabbing Twilight’s arm at the same time to yank him backwards.

The monster tensed, sucking in a deep breath. Twilight twisted and bolted after Time and Legend. Just as they careened around the bend, heat blasted across Twilight’s back. He yelped, glancing back to see a massive fireball roar past and slam into the cliff wall, narrowly missing him. A large, black scorch mark marred the rock where the flames impacted. His heart lodged in his throat and he whipped his head back around, a jolt of fear fueling his legs. They reached the fork and took the other path leading deeper into the cliffs. As they passed by it, Twilight caught a glimpse of the monsters choking the trail they’d come by originally. Screeches and whoops rose from the horde, joining the percussion of their pounding footsteps. Bizarrely, memories of herding goats into the barn back at the ranch flashed through his mind. It made him feel sick.

The canyon widened as the three charged through it, the cliffs growing taller around them. Smudges of dull green appeared on the clifftops silhouetted against the sky. Twilight lifted his bow again, struggling to keep his aim steady and run at the same time. The string snapped across the raw flesh of his fingers, sending a sharp sting through them. Somehow, he hit his mark, the bulblin falling from its perch. He reached for another arrow. A hand wrapped around his wrist, yanking him forward.

“Just run!” Time shouted, pulling him along.

Twilight flicked his tongue over his lips, casting an anxious glance up at the archers. He looked over his shoulder and his heart jolted when he saw the horde in sight, closer than they’d ever been. He cursed breathlessly and spurred his legs on faster, catching up to where Legend had pulled ahead of him. Time sped up as well, running just ahead. Twilight’s gaze kept darting up to the archers. They fired down at the heroes, fire arrows streaking past them and striking against the cliff walls and ground. Twilight’s hand itched for his bow but if he slowed to shoot the archers, the horde would overtake him. He ground his teeth, stifling a frustrated cry between them. The arrows could meet their mark at any moment, could debilitate one or more of them and prevent them from running, could strike true and kill them instantly, could-

The next time his gaze darted to the archers, his gut twisted. The flames licking the arrowheads were visible on most, but some arrowheads appeared gray and bulbous. He snatched an arrow out of his quiver. Time shouted something at him as he took aim. He tried not to slow as he fired. The bulblin loosed its arrow simultaneously. The projectiles met midair. An explosion split the sky overhead, the sound slamming against his ears and bouncing wildly between the canyon walls. Twilight pumped his arms, dashing to make up for the distance he’d lost. Breath ragged in his throat, he quickly scanned the archers again, searching for any other bomb arrows. He spotted one, shot at it in the same manner as the last. He managed to kill the bulblin before it could fire. His arm burned from the strain of drawing his bow over and over again, sweat stinging in the raw flesh of his fingers. He flapped his hand to get the cramp out as he continued to run. He almost tripped over some uneven ground, hardly able to take his gaze off of the archers. They wouldn’t need to make a direct hit if they had bomb arrows. He couldn’t let that happen.

Another archer down, a sharp sting as a small divot of skin ripped away with the bowstring. Another shout of warning from Time as he fell too far behind again. He nocked another arrow, searching the clifftops, adding a burst of speed to his legs to catch up to the others. He spotted the next one too late. It fired the bomb as he yanked the bowstring back. But the bulblin hadn’t fired at them. An explosion tore through the air and he snapped his gaze forward. The arrow had impacted against a natural bridge that formed between the clifftops overhead. Roaring and rumbling continued past the explosion and he realized with horror that the bulblin had collapsed the bridge. Rocks and dirt rained down as the cracks spread rapidly. Directly over where Time and Legend were about to run under.

“Guys, move!” Twilight roared. With speed he didn’t know he had, he closed the distance between them. He lunged forward and shoved them both out of the way. Roaring filled his ears, making his teeth rattle. Time and Legend looked back at him with horror. Something crushed Twilight on all sides all at once, slamming him forward into the ground and hurling him into darkness.

****

A high-pitched whine rang incessantly. Pain and pressure swelled in a raucous symphony, screeching along every nerve in his body, peaking at a crescendo in his legs. The side of his face felt plastered to the ground, something wet and warm pooling under his head and mixing with the dirt. He tried to drag in a thin breath. Something solid raked down his throat instead of air. He coughed, harsh but weak. Dust and dirt spewed from his mouth and nose, clearing airways he didn’t even realize had been blocked. Once he started he couldn’t stop, even as pain streaked like fire through his ribs and organs. He tried to open his eyes but they burned horribly and he couldn’t see. He brought a hand to his eyes, somewhat surprised that he could, and swiped at the dirt caked across them. He found his arm to be the only thing he could move, everything below his middle immobilized and blind with pain.

Rubbing his eyes just made them hurt more. Weakly, despite the dryness of his mouth, he jammed his fingers in and smeared some spit onto his eyes in an attempt to wash the dust away. The saliva mixed with the dirt into a muddy mess that caked onto his skin. But it became easier to wipe away and, after repeating the process a couple more times, he managed to clear away enough that he could pry his eyelids apart.

They stung horribly, each flick of his eyes driving thorns of agony into his brain. The world appeared in a blurry mess before him, indecipherable shapes darting about his vision. He tried to drag in a deeper breath, only to trigger another weak coughing fit. Muffled sounds grew beneath the deafening ringing, and he vaguely recognized the timbres of human shouts and monster cries. He weakly rubbed his eyes again, black splotches marring his already bleary vision. It cleared enough to see two blobs, one red and one silver, darting back and forth somewhere in front of him. More shapes moved beyond and around them, shooting toward them, spinning away, falling still.

He gathered more saliva on his fingers and rubbed his eyes again. His fingers tasted like blood. His vision cleared enough to make out Time run to defend Legend’s back against an approaching monster. He cut it down, the two continuing to fight as more and more monsters surged toward them. A roar rumbled through the air, vibrating in Twilight’s chest. Time’s and Legend’s heads both snapped to look down the canyon. Time wrenched Legend aside by the arm, the two of them diving to the side. A fireball collided with the cliff wall a moment later, close enough that Twilight could feel the dry heat rush over his face. The sensation brought to attention again the sheer agony his legs had become. A cracking cry scratched its way out of his throat. He clenched a hand as lightheadedness swept over him, pressing his forehead to the ground and screwing his eyes shut. Reality itself seemed to waver around him, his entire world narrowing down to the pain overcoming him.

A horrendous, gut-wrenching scream tore through the air.

He pried his eyelids open again. A wave of power that he felt on some unseeing level pulsed over him. He fell as still as he could, each breath still hitching in his throat. He could somewhat make out the horde of monsters beyond where Time and Legend had been. A tall, pale figure streaked toward it, sprinting into the fray. For a moment, he thought it was Time, but he couldn’t see the gold that Time’s armor normally had. The figure plowed through the horde, monsters screeching as they fell under its blade. Twilight thought the figure may have sounded like Time, but his thoughts fizzled and slipped from his grasp, heavy drowsiness filling his head.

He must have passed out for a few moments because Legend appeared before him between one blink and the next. Twilight tried to speak but the words turned into harsh coughs.

Legend dropped to his knees before him, eyes wide. “Holy shit, you’re still alive, oh goddess…”

Twilight tried to speak but couldn’t calm the coughing fit. The coughs sounded more like wheezes, his throat burning with dust and dirt he couldn’t clear. Something pressed to his lips, a hand on his jaw helping his head tilt up off the ground. Water trickled into his mouth, mixing with the dust into an unpleasant sludge with a gritty taste. He tried to swallow anyway, if only to get some of the dust out of his throat, but ended up coughing it back up. The hand and canteen withdrew. His head dropped to the ground again, cheek pressed into the dirt as he hacked weakly. He thought he heard Legend say something, but the words slid from his mind before he could process their meaning. Abruptly, water splashed over his eyes. He winced back, the motion sparking a fresh flash of pain through him. Soon enough, he realized what Legend was trying to do, and he reached up to rub his eyes again. The water removed most of the grime and when he opened his eyes again, only the pain and lack of air blurred his vision. His eyelids still felt gritty, burning whenever he looked around, but he could see much better than before.

“Hey, Rancher, you with me?” Legend said, voice trembling. He rested a hand against Twilight’s shoulder as Twilight struggled to look up at him, eyelids fluttering.

“Ye-yeah,” Twilight managed, voice rough, throat stinging.

“Okay.” Legend’s tongue darted across his lips. He glanced at something behind Twilight, toward the rancher’s legs. “Okay. You- um, can- can you feel your… your legs?”

“H-hurts,” Twilight whispered, unable to get enough air to speak much louder than that.

“But you can feel them,” Legend confirmed. Twilight honestly couldn’t differentiate much of his body below his waist with how much agony rent through every single nerve, but he couldn’t figure out how to put the feeling to words with the dizziness plaguing him. He managed a nod. Legend sighed. “Okay. Okay, good. Uh- l-listen, Rancher, there’s… all those rocks and everything collapsed on you. You’re- y-you… I can’t see- I can’t see how much damage it did, everything below your waist is totally covered.”

Twilight’s brow furrowed as he took in the words, struggling to keep a hold on them until the meaning processed. He nodded slowly.

“I have power bracelets but I don’t know if it’s enough to- or- or if it’s safe to move the debris and- and shit. S-so- so, um…”

Twilight’s gaze drifted away from Legend as the collector rambled, loosely tracking the pale figure charging through the monster horde. Now that he could see more clearly, he could make out the strange blue long sword that the figure wielded. White arcs of light catapulted from the sword with each swing, carving through the monsters like razors through flesh. The figure had thinned the horde all on his own, monsters strewn dead on the ground around him.

“Wh… where’s… Time?” Twilight rasped, interrupting Legend. He didn’t take his eyes off the figure.

Legend fell silent. He turned to follow Twilight’s gaze, watching the large white-haired figure in pale armor go into a spin attack and send ten enemies at once flying. As the figure turned, Twilight caught the briefest glimpse of his face. Red markings curved across both cheeks, a blue shape looping down the center of his forehead. Legend didn’t answer him. Twilight didn’t need him to.

“Let’s just- let’s just worry about you, right now,” Legend stammered, tearing his gaze away from the figure and turning his attention to Twilight again. He said something else but Twilight didn’t hear him, focus remaining fixed the figure. On Time.

“What’d ‘e… he do?”

“Rancher, please, I don’t- I don’t know, okay?” Legend stood and took a step to Twilight’s side. Twilight heard him grunt and a sizable rock sailed behind him, clattering to the ground. Another followed as Legend began scooping some of the rocks off the pile burying Twilight. “I don’t know, but I do know you’re still alive and we have to get you out of there before you suffocate.”

“What’d he do?” Twilight insisted.

“Something really fucking stupid!” Legend yelled, voice strained with stress and exhaustion. He turned and dropped a boulder nearly the size of his whole upper body on the ground beside him. “We thought you were dead. You weren’t breathing and we didn’t have time to really check before the monsters caught up. We fought for a bit but it was- we- we were clearly not going to win. Then he gave me this- this look.” Another boulder landed beside the first. Legend shoved them both away to give himself more room. “Told me to get out of here. Then he put something on his face and turned into that.”

Twilight’s heart stopped. Thought you were dead. His eyes followed the figure as it continued its rampage through the horde. He thinks I’m dead. All too easily, he could imagine the figure as the Shade, its one remaining eye blazing red. Unable to rid himself of past regrets, determined to train Twilight. To make sure I don’t die.

“We have to he…help him,” Twilight croaked.

Legend didn’t seem to have heard him, continuing to move rocks off of Twilight. He picked up one and Twilight felt something shift. Needles shredded his bones and he screamed, shoving his face into the dirt. Legend swore loudly. Twilight barely heard it over the muffled wailing of pain in his ears, blood roaring in his head and making the hairs on his arms stand on end. After what felt like an eternity, the pain subsided just enough for him to feel the hand on his shoulder.

“-alk to me, please, don’t you dare fucking die,” he heard Legend saying.

Twilight groaned and Legend let out a harsh exhale. He cracked his eyes open to see Legend kneeling before him, one hand braced on the ground to keep his balance. Twilight reached forward and wrapped his fingers around Legend’s wrist, dragging his eyes up to meet Legend’s wide-eyed gaze.

“H-help Time,” he said.

“We can’t- we need to help you, you’re in a lot more danger than he is, right now.”

“No,” Twilight stressed. “You don’ get it.”

“No, you’re not thinking straight,” Legend insisted, moving his hand from Twilight’s shoulder to grab his hand. “Your head’s bleeding, you’re trapped under goddess knows how much weight. Whatever’s got the old man isn’t letting go. There’s nothing we can do.”

Twilight looked past Legend to the white-haired Time. He’d cleared out nearly all of the monsters. Twilight wracked his brain as much as he could. If Time had some item with that level of power, surely he’d have mentioned something about it. Legend said he’d put something on his face. Twilight remembered Time showing off his mask collection that one night. He’d said something about them having power, hadn’t he? Demons? Or was that about Wild’s mask? Twilight’s head throbbed sharply and he groaned, letting his eyes fall shut. What could he do? If Time had been… possessed, or something, what could he do? He felt his consciousness fading and pried his eyes open again, narrowing them as he watched Time cut down the monsters.

“...before moving this?” Legend muttered to himself. Twilight dragged his gaze up to see Legend’s stricken expression. “No, no, I don’t know if there’s anything in his wounds, probably a bad idea. But maybe just so he doesn’t… argh, no, free him first, heal him later.”

Heal him. Twilight looked back at Time. Heal him how? He doubted a fairy would work. He hadn’t dealt with possession on his journey at all, just his own forced transformation and the twili denizens being mangled into beasts. They’d been healed with light but, as far as he could tell, he and the others were currently in a light world. There had to be something else. There had to be, he refused to believe his mentor would be lost here and now.

“Hey, Rancher,” Legend interrupted his train of thought. “I’m going to try getting you out again, okay? It’s probably going to hurt but I really can’t think of anything else. I’ve got a potion so I can heal you as soon as I get-”

“That song!” Twilight wheezed more than shouted.

“Wh-”

“A song I… I heard.” Twilight paused to rake in a breath, chest burning, black spots fizzling at the edges of his vision. He remembered howling a duet with the golden wolf on his journey. He remembered Time asking when he’d heard the rancher humming it to himself. “H-he said it… heals… spirits.”

Legend crouched before him again. “Rancher, what are you-”

“His masks,” Twilight wheezed. “Said he… used tha...that song… when he got tr...transformed on one of his… journeys. Healed him.”

Legend’s eyes widened. He looked back over his shoulder at Time.

“Please, Ve…Veteran.”

Legend pressed his mouth into a thin line. He glanced at Twilight then back at Time. Then he cursed softly, reaching into his bag. “What’s the song?”

Twilight blinked, not comprehending for a moment as Legend pulled an ocarina out of his pouch.

“The song, Rancher, I don’t know it, you’re gonna have to sing it, if you can.”

Twilight managed a nod. Fatigue weighed him down and he narrowed his eyes against it, dragging in as deep of a breath as he could. He hummed the song, three descending notes. He could barely even hear himself, his voice raspy and wobbling at each note. Legend brought the ocarina to his lips and quietly copied the tune. Somehow, he got it and Twilight gave him a tired nod.

Legend shook his head, turning to face where Time fought down the canyon. “This better work…” He took a deep breath and played the song, loud and clear. The notes rang out, echoing off the cliff walls. The figure stiffened, looking back toward Legend. Legend froze as the white-eyed gaze of the figure landed on him, breath stilling and ocarina falling silent.

“Rancher, I don’t think it’s working,” Legend rushed to say as the figure cut down a monster without taking his eyes off of Legend.

“Tr...try his.”

“His what? His ocarina? I don’t- I don’t think that’s going to make a difference.”

The figure began making his way toward them.

“His has… has power,” Twilight gasped. “Remem’er that… song he played an’ it… started raining?”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, but the problem is that he currently has it!” Legend cried, scrambling to his feet as the figure continued to approach, slowed only by the straggling monsters. “I kind of doubt he’ll just hand it over to me!”

Twilight reached back for his pouches, hissing at the pain the motion caused. He gritted his teeth and reached anyway, feeling a mound of dirt in the way. He dug through it as Legend’s panic spread to him, heart thudding in his throat. His fingers hooked into his pouch and he pulled out one of his clawshots. He let out a gasp as he dropped it to the ground, the clatter drawing Legend’s attention. Legend stared at it for a moment before understanding dawned on his face, followed quickly by a pained expression.

“This is a horrible idea,” he said as he swept the clawshot off the ground. He fumbled with it for a moment, muttering something under his breath about a weird-looking hookshot. Then he aimed it at the pale-clad Time and fired. The claws wrapped around Time’s pouch still lashed to the figure’s belt, yanking it free and pulling it back to Legend. The figure broke into a run as Legend retrieved the pouch. The collector let out a colorful string of curses, plunging his arm elbow-deep into the impossibly small pouch. As the figure neared, the strange, heavy pulse of power washed over Twilight again, sending chills racing across his arms. A monster attacked the figure from behind, forcing it to slow as it took time to dispatch it.

Legend shouted triumphantly, yanking his arm back out of the pouch, a blue ocarina clutched in his hand. He jammed the mouthpiece between his lips and immediately played the wrong notes. He cursed loudly, holding it out in front of him and squinting at the finger holes that lay different spots than his own ocarina. Blood roared in Twilight’s ears as the figure resumed its approach. Legend took a breath to play. The figure raised its sword and lunged, closing the distance. Three descending notes rang out, Legend playing even as he stumbled backwards.

The figure froze as the notes echoed throughout the canyon. He remained locked in place for a long moment, hands tight around the hilt of his sword. Then his face, previously completely blank, twisted into an aggrieved expression. He staggered back a step, sword lowering as one hand came up to clutch at his forehead. He groaned in a voice nearly identical to Time’s, sword dropping to the ground as he held his face in both hands. Then his fingers tightened on his skin. A bright light flooded Twilight’s vision and he screwed his eyes shut against it. In the moment that it lasted, the oppressing feeling of power withdrew, pulling back towards the figure. In its wake, a tranquil quiet settled around them. For the briefest moment, it drew away the pain in Twilight’s limbs. Then the moment passed, leaving him in just as much burning agony as before.

Something clattered to the ground. Twilight peeled his eyelids apart to see a mask resembling the figure’s face resting on the ground before a pair of boots. He dragged his gaze up the figure to familiar silver and gold armor, up to the hands clutching a blond head. Time let out a soft sigh, slowly lowering his hands and lifting his head. Tears glistened on his eyelids.

“Time?” Legend asked uncertainly. His voice shook. He hadn’t moved an inch, leaning back slightly away from Time.

Time blinked. A look of confusion crossed his face. His eyes traveled from Legend to the ocarina in his hands to the mask at his feet. He blinked again, stooping to pick it up. His hands shook as he held it, mouth pulled into a deep frown.

“Time,” Legend said again.

Time’s gaze lifted. His brow furrowed. “I’m… still here?” he said faintly.

Legend let out a trembling breath. He took a cautious step forward, then another when Time didn’t react. Then he shoved Time’s pouch and ocarina into the man’s arms and turned around, falling to his knees in front of Twilight.

The moment the tension drained from the air, Twilight’s vision dimmed. He breathed out slowly as Legend spoke to him, nodding at the veteran’s questions. Legend stood up, moving behind Twilight to continue trying to dig him out. Time took his place, kneeling carefully before Twilight. He seemed to have put away his ocarina and the mask, pouch lashed to his belt once more.

“Link,” he said quietly, taking Twilight’s hand in his own. His eyes, dim with exhaustion and fatigue, shone with unshed tears.

Twilight gave his hands a weak squeeze. “Not… dead yet.”

Time’s brow knitted, eyes dropping to their joined hands.

“Guys,” Legend called softly. Time glanced up. Twilight couldn’t follow his gaze, barely able to remain awake. “I can see the boulder that’s directly on him. If I lift it up, can you pull him out?”

Time set his jaw, nodding stiffly.

“H-hey,” Twilight croaked as vertigo sank its teeth into him. He continued when Time turned to look at him. “I’m probably going to… pass out… soon.”

“Th-that’s fine,” Time stuttered. He pursed his lips, frowning to himself. When he spoke again, he did so carefully without stammering. “I have a fairy, we’ll heal you right away.”

Twilight nodded, letting his eyes fall shut. His hearing began to fade along with his consciousness as Legend started counting down.

He barely heard Time��s low murmur before slipping under.

“I won’t fail you.”

[jellazticious]

Is it okay to request for more Fake Peppino?

And maybe your take on Fake Peppino's Fight?

I needed to draw Faker more, thank you

ramble regarding the second question under the cut

Not a very original take but I see the bossfight like an accident. Accident in a way that Faker was the only one who Pizzahead didn't discuss with about fighting Peppino and I think he lost the key to Faker or something lol.

And I'm pretty sure that Faker didn't fight Peppino to protect the key. The key isn't even where the fight took place, it was found upon exit. Like he was fighting for territory or dominance, he has no concept of cloning, he does not care or know that Peppino may or may not be the person he was based from, all he saw was just another inferior creature that look like him and came out with him from the laboratory. Peppino shows up in Faker's HOUSE and he is not gonna let that slide until he LEAVES, which Peppino did. Faker could have destroyed those wood planks in the end but he didn't because what's the point of it. He proved to Peppino that he is not someone to mess with and he got him to leave his domain. I'm pretty sure Faker still thinks he's the alpha among the Peppino clones the way Peppino did not defeat him the same way he defeated the rest of the bosses. In my headcanons, he's more animal than human, I talk to him like how OJ from Nope talks about Jean Jacket. You just gotta leave bro alone lest he eats you on the spot but Peppino is a different case because he thinks he's like some sort of competition so he played out this long fight to show Peppino what he's got and in return, to see what Peppino can do against him.

And to be fair, if I were Faker I will not be impressed and think that this fat fuck survived out of luck. Like he was throwing everything at that man and what Peppino does for majority of the fight was DODGE and wait for weakspots if I weren't to mention the fact that Peppino ran away from him.

I also kinda see Faker as a little cocky at times because that's just how it is when you're top dog, he has his fun with his prey but also some of that goofiness stems from the original Peppino too

I mean look at Peppi, he gets a little dastardly sometimes in the game when he's whooping ass, Fakes just already done it more times than Peppi

[thehypnone]

sorry for requesting for like fifth time in a row lol

but!!! tiny dick dewdrop x our bigboy mounty? some degradation? humiliation? filth? 👉🏻👈🏻

i dont think i did what you expected of me... whoops

535 words, what's in the ask + anal

“What do you even want me to do with it? Hm?” the ghoul spat, poking the other’s dick with a single finger, as if it wasn’t even worth a normal touch.

“Please,” he whined, squeezing his eyes so hard it hurt. Not as much as his cock, though.

“Please what? You want to fuck me with it? Fat chance,” he scoffed from between his legs. “Mine is better. I should fuck you and ignore that pathetic thing of yours.”

“Fuck, I– I need it… something.”

“Mount, it’s too big!” Dewdrop laughed. Shame burned through Mountain’s entire body at all the cruel words the fire ghoul showered him in. He loved it. “It’s not gonna fit anywhere, what am I supposed to do?”

“It– it’s not, you know it’s not,” he pleaded, tears welling up in his eyes. “You can take it, you took it so many times, please, fire lily.”

“Absolutely not, I’m not splitting myself in half,” Dewdrop said and ran a finger up Mountain’s enormous cock once again, watching it twitch. “If you’d be a good whore you’d just take mine. It’s the perfect size.”

Mountain had truly no problem with that, he’d bottom any time and for anyone, really, but all this… humiliation went straight to his dick, leaving nothing but the want to be buried balls deep in Dewdrop in his actual head.

“If… if I do, will you– shit, will you j– jack me off?” the earth ghoul begged, even though he knew perfectly well what he’d hear.

“How? I can’t even wrap my hand around it, Mount,” Dewdrop deadpanned. “Humping the bed is your best chance.”

“I– I can do that, just please, do something, please,” he whined, hips canting upwards pathetically.

“Ugh, fine. Turn over,” Dewdrop rolled his eyes and watched with raised brows as the other clumsily got onto his front, moaning as his cock got trapped between his stomach and the bed. The fire ghoul reached for a bottle of lube and Mountain could hear him slicking up his dick. No touching him, though, and…

“I’ll show you what a good cock means,” he whispered as he leaned over the earth ghoul. “I don’t even need to stick my fingers in you. I can just fuck you, any time.”

With that the hot and sticky head of Dewdrop’s cock pressed against Mountain’s hole. He let out a broken noise and the fire ghoul started to push in, no resistance at all. He was right. He could just fuck him.

“Oh, fuck,” Mountain moaned, clutching the bedding with iron grip. Dewdrop rutted into him, more of a grind than actual fuck, but it was good. Too good, even, as the rolls of Dewdrop’s hips made his perfect little dick brush against the earth ghoul’s prostate in the most delicious way.

Dewdrop didn’t plan on shutting up, though, “Maybe we should just cut it off.”

Mountain would absolutely not last long if he continued talking and fucking him like that.

“It’s useless anyway.” Every thrust of the fire ghoul pushed Mountain’s dick into the bed, making devastating pleasure shoot right through him.

“You’d do better with a cunt and a clit. Another hole to fuck, at least.”

Mountain screamed.

[kristinamae093]

Ghosted

Ghosted - Altering Visions (Chapter Eleven)

Series Summary - Prince Liam fell for Riley Brooks hard and fast. A marriage filled with love and devotion was within his reach. But everything changed when she vanished just before the end of the social season. As everyone voices their concerns regarding her scandalous departure, a confession from an unlikely source turns Liam's world upside down and makes him question everything around him.

Book/Pairing - TRR - Liam x f!MC (Riley Brooks)

A/N 1 - This AU starts right before the beginning of the engagement tour. There is a two-month lapse between the coronation and where we pick up, but we will stray from canon. Please excuse any errors found.

A/N 2 - It's been a while 🥲. Here's hoping it doesn't take me another six months to post the next chapter 😬🫡.

PSA it's a long one. Whoops, lol.

Characters belong to Pixelberry.

Liam fluttered his eyes open a short time later and squinted them against the harsh, blinding light blocking his view. When he took a deep breath, a distinct, stale aroma invaded his senses; it sparked some kind of recognition even before he could fully view his surroundings. He slowly sat up with a groan and blinked until his vision centered. He glanced around and noticed the outdated wood panels, along with the oval shape of the sconces. There was only one estate in all of Cordonia with those outdated features, and he noted that fact immediately. 

Panic flourished through his body as Liam realized he awoke in Applewood. 

He frantically stood with labored breaths and patted his abdomen, almost to ensure he was real. He pinched his thigh and winced, afterward placing a trembling hand on the wall to steady himself. His mind raced as he tried to comprehend what transpired and how he’d gotten there to begin with.

The events of the night suddenly invaded his thoughts. The image of a lifeless Penelope in Landon’s arms engraved and forever etched itself into his memory; he felt guilty, enraged, defeated, and a slew of other emotions.

Penelope was the big break they’d hunted high and low for. She held vital information Liam desperately needed, but seemingly would take her secrets to the grave with her. He couldn’t understand any of it — nothing made sense. The list of unanswered questions swirling around was enough to make him nauseous. A carousel of sorrow and confusion he couldn’t seem to slow down — no matter how hard he tried. 

Amid his tilt-a-whirl moment, an angelic voice rang out not far away, drawing him back to the present. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” 

Liam’s thundering heart suddenly stopped as recognition swept over him. He’d been so entrapped in his thoughts, he hadn't even noticed what portion of the estate he was in. 

Only a few inches away was a door he remembered all too well — Riley’s. His eyes welled with tears as his vision centered on the structure, but as much as Liam wanted to rush to her, he physically couldn’t. The receptors in his brain went crazy — a jolt of electricity shot to his legs, demanding he move, but his feet weighed hundreds of pounds. Dazed and confused, he could only gawk at the blockade separating them. 

“Lady Riley, we have much to discuss — have a seat,” another individual answered. Liam knew it was a male but couldn’t place his identity; although it sounded familiar, as if he could remember it from a vague, distant memory. 

“Tell me who you are and what the hell you’re doing here!” Liam’s blood ran cold at Riley’s tone; the fear and adrenaline were prominent in her shaky voice. His breaths quickened and his instincts screamed to rush to her, but again, his feet refused to cooperate. 

“That wasn’t a request — I told you to have a seat.” Again, Liam swore he could recall that voice, but couldn’t fully register it. He thought about it for a split second until the sounds of a loud screech and a shatter echoed behind the door. 

“Don’t touch me!” Riley hollered, instantly breaking Liam’s trance. He lunged for the doorknob, but when he twisted his wrist, it snapped and turned to dust in his palm. The disintegrated fragments floated to the floor in slow motion, his heart following suit. 

“You’re so beautiful when you squirm.” Liam gasped as he fully recognized that person — it was Tariq. “But if you don’t fucking stand still–”

“Riley! RILEY!” Liam forcefully pounded on the structure. “Open this door! Open it, goddamnit!” He bellowed, but the commotion inside continued, escalating by the second. The next instant, he sprinted down the hall, frantically hunting for somebody — anybody — to get him inside that room. “I need some help!” He hauled over to the other side and yelled once more, but faced only cold, deserted silence. 

His vision darted all around the area before he spotted a window at the end of the seemingly never-ending hallway. Liam sprinted to it and gazed at the scene below. Outside, he could see the country jamboree still in full swing. He scoured the crowd and spotted everyone except Riley; Drake, Hana, Madeleine, and upon further inspection, he saw himself at the head table beside his father. He stumbled backward with a strangled breath, truly dumbfounded by what was going on. 

As Liam recovered, he re-approached the window and banged on it. “Hey! Hey!” He wailed, but nobody below batted an eye. His hits came harder and harder, but the glass never even cracked; his hand took the damage, although he felt no pain. 

The only thing he heard was Riley’s pleas for help, the sounds making his desperation grow by the second. He rushed back to the door and ran full force at it, using his shoulder as a battering ram; it wouldn’t budge. He repeated the process — again and again — but never even split the wood. Liam let out a primal wail and fisted his hair, taking deep breaths to preserve any semblance of sanity. His pulse thundered in his ears and tears stung the corners of his eyes, while he frantically determined what to do.   

He took a step back and realized there was a shadow cast over the doorway. It appeared to be a man, standing with his arms crossed. He wasn’t sure if it was there before, but Liam waved his hand and nothing changed the stony silhouette. The fixture remained cemented in place, not flinching or moving a muscle, regardless of the commotion developing beyond.

“LIAM!” Riley suddenly screamed, ripping him from his trance. He was up against the structure in an instant, using every ounce of strength he had to force his way through, but his attempts were futile. Riley repeatedly called for him and every time, a dagger went straight through Liam’s already hollowed-out chest.

He couldn’t control his overflowing tears at hearing her cry out for him. No matter what he did, he couldn’t get inside; they wouldn’t acknowledge him, nobody came to help, and there was nothing he could do except sit and listen. With a loud sob, he slid down the door and sat in front of it, hoping at some point it would open and he could get to her. 

Riley’s whimpers continued throughout the vicinity, but Liam’s skin turned ice cold as he heard laughter inside; not Riley’s, and certainly not cheerful. The vile sound caused all the color to drain from his face. He leaned his head against the door and completely broke down, letting the devastation and defeat wash over him. 

“I — I’m sorry Riley…” He swallowed thickly, but soon let out an anguished cry. “I’m so sorry…”

The room went eerily quiet for a long while; Liam couldn’t hear much except the sound of his heart shattering, but eventually, the voices began once more. With a shuddered breath, he held his ear up to listen. 

“When will I receive payment?” Tariq questioned. 

“You don’t need to worry about that. Where you’re going, you won’t need it.” 

“W–what do you mean?! I did what I was called to do!” Tariq’s panic was clear to Liam, even without seeing his face. His pulse somehow thundered faster, carefully processing every word.

“There is too much at stake — more than your simple mind could ever understand. For this to work, you need to disappear. You’re a weak, pathetic excuse of a man — we can not risk this entire operation being ousted because of a lousy nuisance.” 

“I swear to it — you have my allegiance and my silence.” Tariq pleaded. “I will disappear, and—” 

“You’re going to, alright — the both of you.” 

What little color remaining in Liam’s complexion drained, and the shakiness in his hands amplified. After a split-second of complete and utter stillness, the phrase resonated and ignited a deadly determination within.

Liam sprung up and kicked the door with all his might. “LET ME IN!” He repeated the process, but again, the barrier showed no signs of weakening. He threw his fists at the structure in a mad frenzy — anything to get inside and get to Riley, then deal with this — man. 

“Liam! Liam! LIAM!” Leo yelled. He repetitively jabbed the button next to Liam's head to summon the nurse, as his brother flailed in his hospital bed. 

Liam was being monitored for dehydration, severe exhaustion, and a touch of malnutrition. Doctors said he had a panic attack, which combined with everything else, made him lose consciousness. All his labs came back normal, thankfully; Leo was worried someone could have slipped Liam something, but the hospital was quick to put that suspicion to rest. 

Since Liam arrived, he had been resting comfortably, but that changed about twenty minutes ago; it started with small groans and subtle movements, but soon turned into blood-curdling cries and forceful thrashes. Leo hoped he would wake himself, but Liam was getting drastically worse with every passing second. 

Liam suddenly flew forward with a loud gasp. His tearful eyes darted all around the room while he grabbed at his gown-covered body. As the world centered, a tidal wave of frustration and confusion washed over him. 

When Liam stopped and stared down at his clasped hands, Leo cautiously re-approached the bed. “Liam?” When he didn’t answer, Leo spoke a little louder. “... Li?”

“I was there.” Liam weakly croaked, his vision locked on his lap.

Leo’s brows furrowed. “Where?” 

“I heard it.”

“Heard what?”

“Riley…” Liam whispered, followed by a shuddered breath.  

“What about her?” 

“I was there… th–that night… just n–now—” Liam stammered, struggling to make sense of the situation. “I couldn’t get in…”

Leo’s heart instantly shattered at seeing the devastation in Liam’s features. “They gave you some medication, Li.” He reasoned. “It’s possible that—”

“I KNOW WHAT I HEARD!” Liam bellowed. The nurse appeared next to him and attempted to speak, but he shouted, “GET OUT!” 

Leo lifted his hands in surrender. “I believe you, Liam… Tell me what happened.” 

“She yelled for me…” Liam faintly answered, refusing to make eye contact. “She yelled and screamed and — I couldn’t get inside, Leo... I tried, but — I — I… I couldn’t save her…” 

Leo took a deep breath to gather his thoughts and responded in a calm, reassuring voice. “Liam, it’s been a long couple of days and I know this has been incredibly rough on you–” 

“STOP PATRONIZING ME! I KNOW WHAT I HEARD!” 

Leo remained reluctant to entertain this idea. He knew Liam was dreaming, but at that moment, he was completely irrational. Leo had never seen him in such a way, even when his mother died. Given the past couple of weeks, the events of that night, and the medication, there was no rationalizing with him — Liam was spiraling, and bad. But perhaps if he entertained the notion — for now — Liam would eventually calm down.  

Leo carefully spoke. “What did you hear?” 

Liam stayed silent for a long moment before he turned his head to meet eyes with Leo. The look on Liam’s face slightly took him aback; the determination in his features was deadly — his sunken, puffy eyes were nearly black. 

Liam let out a long, sharp huff of air and sternly explained, “There were two male voices. I can say with confidence one was Tariq, but as far as the other, I — I don’t know…” He shook his head with furrowed brows as he racked every recollection in his brain. He could almost visualize the man in question, but his face appeared blurred and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t clear the fog. 

“Alright, well, let’s just take a minute to—”

“They were fucking laughing, Leo. They assaulted her and laughed about it.” Liam growled, his chest rising and falling with every sullen breath. “I want Tariq found, now. He’s going to pay for ever laying a fucking finger on her. I swear to God, Leo — I will put an end to his sorry existence with my bare hands.” He clenched his palms, squeezing hard enough to turn his knuckles white. 

Leo once again held his hands up in surrender and replied in a soft voice. “I believe you. Just — take a couple of deep breaths and try to relax—” 

“What if she didn’t leave Cordonia?” Liam suddenly blurted out. “What if she’s…” He trailed off, swallowing thickly. No part of him wanted to finish that statement in any fashion; the unending possibilities gave him instant nausea. “That man… he said, ‘where you’re going you won’t need it’, and then h–he said both of you... BOTH OF YOU, Leo!” He ran his palms over his head from front to back, repeating the process with a crazed look in his eye. 

Leo opened his mouth to speak, but Liam swiftly continued. “It would make sense… Tariq has been untraceable… But–but Riley…. She — Bastien told me she went back to New York. But that person… I know I heard him say it… Where you’re going you won’t need it, where you’re going you won’t need it—” He repeated to himself, his voice diminishing with every anguished syllable. He clutched his hands into fists and forcefully yanked at his hair, rocking himself back and forth. 

“Li,” Leo cautiously started. When Liam whipped his head to look at him, Leo was once more temporarily shocked by the fury and turmoil staring back at him; he realized Liam was hastily elevating himself to a dangerous level. “We can’t jump to conclusions… Okay? Let’s just take a deep breath and try to calm down—” 

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Leo! I KNOW WHAT I HEARD!” Liam shouted as he ripped the IV from his arm, the pain not even phasing him. He ditched the rest of his connections shortly after and dashed out of bed. “Where are my CLOTHES?”

“I’m not saying you didn’t,” Leo reasoned as he followed his brother’s movements. “All I’m suggesting is that we take a step back and really think about this—” 

“I’m tired of taking a step back! Look where that’s gotten us!” Liam seethed. “There is so much goddamn blood on my hands! I let her get hurt! I am responsible for all of this madness—” 

“Stop that — right now,” Leo sternly returned. “You know that is not true even in the slightest.” 

“Say it to MY FACE then, Leo!” Liam barked as he invaded his brother’s personal space. “LIE to my fucking face!” 

“It’s not a lie, Liam,” Leo stood a little taller. “You are not responsible–” He stopped as Liam rolled his eyes and looked away. This time, it was Leo who stepped up to Liam. “No — look at me,” He bore his eyes into his brother, forcing him to see the truth in his gaze. “You are not responsible for any of this, Liam. We’re going to figure this out, I promise.” 

Liam studied the conviction staring back at him and his frustration soared. He spun away and grabbed the bedside table, sending it flying with a primal roar. 

Leo flinched as the wood shattered against the wall, but knew he had to calm Liam down. However, the person he was trying to reason with was not the version of Liam he was used to; this was a side Leo didn’t know lay dormant in his normally calm and stoic baby brother.

“Liam,” Leo softly started. “This is an incredibly shitty situation, and I’m so sorry that you’re being put through this. I love you, and I’m always here for you no matter what.” He confidently stated, but after a moment of silence, hesitantly added, “But I just don’t think a dream is—” 

“I don’t give a damn what you say, Leo! Someone is going to pay for this!” Liam growled, his face reddening with every deep, labored breath. He directed his attention back to his earlier quest for his clothes; he didn’t know where he was going or who he was looking for, but someone was going to feel the wrath of the King of Cordonia — tonight.  

Olivia didn’t even bother to knock before she and Ray joined the room. The pair opted to stay behind and investigate in Portavira a little further — that is until a random guard threw them out. Without Liam or Leo there to ensure their access, they were told to vacate the premises shortly after Liam left for the hospital. Regardless, they had enough time to prove at least one pivotal thing about that ordeal, and possibly solve quite a few others — if Liam believed them. 

They walked in and stopped short at Liam’s crazed expression. “What’s going on?” Olivia sought. 

“I’m leaving,” Liam bit out through clenched teeth. 

“Hold on, we need to talk about something—” 

“Move out of my way!” 

Olivia arched her brow. “We need transparency, Liam. Tell me what is going on — calmly.” 

“I was there, Olivia! I heard it! They fucking attacked her!” Liam bellowed as he found his garments and rifled through the bag. 

Olivia placed a gentle hand on his shoulder to stop his mad dash. “Liam, please — I need a full explanation. I’m not stopping you or downplaying anything, but we need to know what the hell you’re talking about.” 

Liam met her eyesight and saw the genuine interest in her gaze. He could tell Leo thought he was baffling, but he wasn’t. He couldn’t fathom the experience, but knew that was no dream; with every fiber of his being, Liam believed what he heard was reality. The universe mercilessly gifted him a blocked front-row seat — it was a curse, yet oddly a blessing. They spent all this time wondering what happened that night, but now he had a soundtrack to re-play. He wasn’t willing to rest until he deciphered this code, to ensure justice would be swift to all who deserved it. 

He explained in great detail his occurrence and exactly what happened. When he finished, he stared blankly at the floor, cradling his head in his trembling hands; he knew how wild it sounded but didn’t particularly care. It felt so real — so raw. Just thinking about the vile chortles raised goosebumps on his arms, and Riley’s screams now played on an insistent loop in his mind — torment that would never stop. Even if good trumped evil and Riley was located safely in the end, those sounds would be a continuous source of torture until he took his final breath. 

Olivia listened intently to everything he recalled. At the surface, she knew how preposterous it sounded — it was a dream, regardless of how strongly Liam felt otherwise. Her heart ached for her friend at that moment; clearly, everything that happened was taking a major toll on her childhood friend. 

But — given the bombshell she and Ray sat upon, Olivia couldn’t help but wonder if there could be some truth to Liam’s encounter. 

Olivia sat forward and patted Liam’s leg with the gentlest of touches. When she spoke, it was calm and reassuring. “I’m not sure what to say, Liam. I realize you want to believe it to be true, but you and I both know it’s nothing concrete…” Liam opened his mouth to respond, but Olivia held her hand up to stop him, as she saw the fire burning behind his narrowed eyes. “Let me finish… I know tonight has been hard on you for a lot of reasons, but I believe Ray and I have found a very promising lead…”

Liam’s ears visibly rose as his interest grew. “What do you mean?” 

“Sir, I know it’s not what you initially hired me for, but there are a lot of things that do not add up in this current situation...” Ray started. “Between some of Lady Penelope’s behaviors, her father’s statements, and this—” He produced his phone from his pocket and handed it to Liam. “I find it very hard to believe she took her own life.” 

Liam glanced at the device in his hands and realized he was looking at a photo of Penelope’s last statements. He read through it and found nothing of relevance; no mention of Riley, her involvement in the scandal, the maid, nothing. It was incredibly vague, considering it was her concluding words to the world. 

“Why are you showing me this?” Liam demanded as confusion and annoyance rushed through him. 

Olivia produced a document from her pocket. After questioning the legitimacy of the note left in Riley’s room, she wanted to have it near in case the situation arose. “You remember my blackmail letter — the one I got the night of your coronation?” She handed him the paper.

Liam held both items and scanned back and forth; he gasped when he realized they were nearly identical. “But, this — this means—” 

“Someone took her out, Liam.” Olivia finished. 

“I’m not positive if someone would have done it for her, or if she felt pressured into doing it. Either way, since she was saying goodbyes to her family, that leads me to believe Penelope knew she was in danger and foresaw her demise.” Ray added. 

“This is impossible!” Liam shook his head, his rage returning full force. “How does this keep happening?!” 

Olivia and Ray shared a look; the two calculated a theory, and it seemed the more that unfolded, the greater that assumption solidified itself. There wasn’t a lot of evidence to point fingers, but Olivia realized they couldn’t wait any longer; if they were correct, this situation just escalated tenfold. Liam already teetered an incredibly dangerous ledge, but perhaps that’s what the circumstances called for. Plus, after his — experience, she knew he would believe them. 

Olivia softly started. “I need you to stay as calm as possible — at least until I’m finished and we know for certain who we’re directing this hostility at.” Liam nodded with furrowed brows, but Leo shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I don’t know what to say about your — encounter, but — there is reason for us to believe Riley could be in Cordonia.” 

“WHAT?!” Liam practically choked as all the color drained from his face. Even though he was there and truly believed what he heard, someone else saying it out loud momentarily knocked the wind out of him. 

“I checked all outgoing flights from the night of the jamboree and she wasn’t on any of them,” Ray explained. “Every log received a thorough examination, even those with different destinations — she has yet to board a plane to exit the country, to this day. I’ve looked at other modes of transportation and she is the same as Tariq — there is nothing.” 

“But…” Leo hesitantly started after a moment of tense silence. “If that’s the case, then where is she?” 

Olivia sighed and her eyes softened. “We’re — not entirely sure at this point… Somewhere in Cordonia, but…”

“Believe me when I say I am checking everywhere.” Ray confidently inserted. “Every crack, every crevice — any place I can think of. If she truly is in the country, I will locate her.” 

“Okay, but — why haven’t we found her?” Leo returned. The uneasiness in his stomach suddenly bolted to the back of his throat, securing itself and taking root. As he took in Ray’s uncertainty, the lump multiplied in size. 

“I — I don’t have an answer for that right now,” Ray calmly returned. “But I’m working around the clock and using every resource I have to uncover her location. I know those sound like empty promises, but I assure you — I will not rest until Lady Riley is located safely.” He emphasized.

Liam’s heart pounded so fast, he was sure it would give out at any moment. “I — She — B–but —” He stammered, trying his hardest to comprehend the conversation. “Bastien told me—”

“I think Bastien is involved.” Olivia abruptly cut him off. “When we found Riley’s stuff, I swear to you, Liam, I saw the fucking guilt in his eyes. Plus, he’s got his hands in everything at court. I’m not saying he’s as powerful as you, but he can twist and manipulate things like no other because of his position.” 

Olivia continued. “To be honest with you, I don’t think any of us really believe Penelope killed that maid. During the social season, I saw her cry over a fucking crab bite — you can’t tell me she murdered someone in cold blood. Also, I’m thinking, based on his actions tonight, Bastien knew Penelope was already dead — I’m nearly certain of it.”

“Not to mention, he kept this information to himself until we were ready to question her,” Ray added. “I know for certain those reports take only a few days — most likely less if it’s a priority case. I haven’t seen the photos from your first crime scene, but I can tell it was a setup from Olivia’s descriptions. As the head guard, it would’ve been easy for him to manipulate the situation.” 

“Are you sure, though?” Leo interjected. “I mean, I’ve dealt with Bastien a lot over the years, and I can say he is not a genius. Maybe the opposite — butter knives are sharper than he is.”

“He’s capable, though — that’s what troubles me. I think most of the time he gives off the impression he’s useless, but he’s highly trained in a sum of areas.” Olivia explained. “I sincerely doubt he’s the mastermind behind everything, but I’m confident he’s the reason we keep being set back. Who’s always around? Who’s the one directing these ‘investigations’? It’s him.“

“I — damn…” Leo ran a hand through his hair with wide eyes. “You’re not wrong, and it does kind of make sense…” 

Everyone suddenly recognized Liam remained mute as they spoke. His face showed no emotions; he only stared at Olivia as if she wasn’t even there with an unreadable expression. Liam was a world away as various open ends snapped themselves into place. The murky waters of uncertainty clarified, and the bottom of the cesspool became sharper with every jumbled thought dashing through his mind.

All security decisions went through Bastien, including unauthorized entry into an estate. Bastien was the one investigating the maid’s death, and he was accountable for the search for Riley and Tariq — until Ray came along. Bastien didn’t want to let Ray into Penelope’s room because he knew what was in there, and realized Ray would see right through it; past the stuff even Olivia would have missed. He could outsmart her, but knew he couldn’t Ray, which ultimately meant Bastien knew of Ray’s true purpose. He continuously told Liam he was working to provide answers, but suddenly, he believed Bastien’s intentions to be the exact opposite. 

This whole time, a mole sat right under his nose, continuously feeding them the vaguest of answers. Every time they took a step forward, it was never because of Bastien, but someone always ensured they took two back. He didn’t understand how whoever held the cards seemed to be a move ahead, but now — it made sense. 

Liam thought back to all these instances and realized he didn’t remember seeing Bastien. The night of the country jamboree, a different person escorted him to his room at the end of the night. He never questioned it because it wasn’t unheard of for guards to switch out positions, but now he wondered where Bastien truly was. 

The night of the Apple Banquet, he recalled seeing him at the start of it, but not again until Bastien barged in to inform him of the discovery. Now, he couldn’t help but speculate Bastien took the maid’s life himself, or at least staged the scene to frame Penelope. 

Tonight, before Bastien came to Liam and gave him the news of their suspect, he was nowhere to be found; until Olivia, Ray, and Leo left to interrogate Penelope. 

When Bastien told Liam their person of interest was Penelope, he was in a state of disbelief. Liam questioned him, but Bastien stood his ground. However, now he believed with everything in him, Bastien knew she was already dead and intended to manipulate the circumstances further.

Since he opened his eyes to the truth, he often felt as if he mindlessly ran in a circle, desperately trying to piece small portions of a scattered puzzle together. Now he realized he was — and Bastien directed the never-ending laps, all while dangling tiny slivers of hope in front of Liam’s face — taunting him.

Ultimately, Liam concluded without a shadow of uncertainty — Bastien knew what happened to Riley, and likely held knowledge regarding her location.

Liam suddenly shot up from the edge of his hospital bed. “BASTIEN!” He bellowed at an ear-piercing volume, loud enough to rattle the windows. 

Leo winced. “H–he’s not here, Li.”

“What the fuck do you mean, he’s not here?!” 

“There’s some other guy outside!” 

“He was still lingering around Penelope’s room when Ray and I left.” Olivia chimed in. 

“That’s it — I’m going to find him,” Liam growled through clenched jaws. 

“Liam, wait—” 

“NO MORE WAITING, OLIVIA! Do you see what is happening?! All the blood that’s being shed?! This has to stop!”

“I know and I agree. But we need some kind of strategy–”

“No — this ends now.” Liam bit out. He hastily made his way to the bathroom with his bag of clothes, slamming the door shut behind him. 

Olivia had half a mind to stop Liam until they had some kind of plan, but also felt time was of the essence. If they couldn’t prove Riley left the country, their urgency had to intensify. Her location remained unknown, but they believed she was at least in New York. When Ray first mentioned the possibility that she never left the country, Olivia didn’t want to believe it; after Penelope’s untimely demise, she realized this was a vicious, bloody pattern, and the suspicion needed to be taken seriously.

As the body count rose, Olivia’s concerns steadily increased. If history repeated itself, everyone involved would meet a deadly fate, but they didn’t have a detailed log of all entangled in this web. They had no clue where Riley’s name lay on the list of potential victims, and now they held very little information regarding her whereabouts. An involuntary shudder traveled down Olivia’s spine as the air in the room shifted, filling with an amplified haze of grim uncertainty felt heavily by everyone.

Olivia wholeheartedly believed Riley was alive, but for how much longer she couldn’t determine. The lingering feelings of uneasiness in her gut told her they were correct — she never left Cordonia — and if that was the case, her safety was more in question now than ever before.  

Within the hour, Liam left the hospital and was on his way back to the main estate in Portavira. Although doctors wished to keep him longer, he left AMA — he didn’t need fluids; he didn’t need rest; he needed Riley. If Bastien knew something, he was going to tell them, even if he had to use brute force.

A part of him didn’t want to believe it, but the more he pondered, the more sense it made. A small portion of his heart wanted to give Bastien the benefit of the doubt, but that was no longer an option. The betrayal Liam felt was like no other and quickly created a raging storm inside of him, simply waiting to be unleashed.

Hearing Riley could still be in Cordonia, combined with his out-of-body experience, the need to locate her was higher than ever. Of course, he wondered where she ended up when he believed she went back to the States, but now even that was up in the air. The one thing holding Liam above water was knowing she was far away from the carnage, but that was no longer a valid crutch. The waves of despair rose dangerously high, threatening to overtake and drag him under in one fell swoop. 

Liam tried his hardest to push the instantaneous bad thoughts away, but could feel it in his bones — Riley was in danger. From the beginning, he’d always thought something felt off, but he let his pride stand in the way of seeing the truth. Now it was impossible to ignore, as it tore away at his conscience. Guilty wasn’t even a suitable word to describe how he felt, knowing his negligence let this monstrosity escalate as it had. He turned his back on Riley when she needed him most; she screamed for him, yet he tried his damnedest to leave her in the past for so long. 

However, he used all his willpower to remain in the moment and stay afloat; the only thing he cared about was Riley. Even if they found her and she wanted nothing to do with him, he simply needed to see with his own two eyes that she was safe. He didn’t want to think about why she could still be in Cordonia, but the growing ache in his chest told him it wasn’t a good reason. 

The SUV pulled up to the front entrance of the estate, and Liam didn’t even wait for it to come to a complete stop. He rushed out and barged in through the front doors with fire under his feet. The halls remained eerily quiet as the nobility slept, but he was sure word traveled about not only his hospital stay but Penelope’s tragic passing. Leo, Olivia, and Ray all trailed behind as he ran at top speed. 

Liam dashed up the stairs and rounded the corner, but abruptly stopped once Penelope’s room came into view. The door had yellow caution tape covering the opening, and Liam heard Bastien’s voice inside; the sound reigniting the rage burning deep within. He went to make a bee-line for the door, but a timid hand on his forearm ceased his movements. 

“Y–Your Majesty,” Emmaline got out through hiccups. She retracted her hand with wide eyes and shakily bowed as he faced her. Liam’s features momentarily softened as he took in her running mascara and puffy eyes. “P–Please, Sir… I beg you to reconsider… Please — s–she wouldn’t d–do this…” 

Liam’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“We were told they’ve ruled Penelope’s d–death… They w–were picking everything up but n–nobody would listen to us! That wasn’t her handwriting. She–she wouldn’t do this… None of it… She was happy — she wouldn’t—” Emmaline shook her head as more tears fell. 

Liam placed a gentle hand on Emmaline’s shoulder and firmly responded, “I apologize for what you were told, but that is not the case — it will become a homicide investigation as soon as I can get someone else assigned. I promise you — I am going to figure out what happened and ensure she receives the justice she deserves.” 

Emmaline swallowed a sob. “W–where did they take her body? They wouldn’t tell us. T–they came in and ripped my baby out of my arms and I don’t know where she is and—”

“Wait, who took her?” 

“Your head guard said h–he had the authority to — remove her.” Emmaline squeezed her eyes closed as her tears fell harder, trying her hardest to wake herself from this nightmare.

Liam used every ounce of resolve he had not to march straight up to Bastien and securely wrap a hand around his throat. “Emmaline, I assure you — I will find her and bring her home. You have my word — I am going to figure this out.” He reiterated, but the fury coursing through his veins was at an all-time high. The amount Bastien thought he could get away with made Liam sick to his stomach, but he was determined to put a stop to it. 

His answers were suffusive for Emmaline, so she bowed and made her leave. After taking a microscopic moment to gain some clarity, Liam addressed Ray. “Since I am removing Bastien, I need you to take over. And I want you to backtrack and look into Rhonda’s homicide as well. I’m not sure if you’ll be able to find anything, but I want you to double-check. I’ll ensure you have access to everything you need, and I’ll inform everyone you are now in charge here. The crown will compensate you generously for your additional time and effort.” 

“Yes, sir,” Ray returned with a confident smile.

“Leo, I need you to figure out where he’s sending Penelope. I’m going to ask him, but in case he won’t tell me, I need her found before anyone messes with or blatantly destroys her body — there is no doubt in my mind that’s where she’s headed. Grab Maxwell and have him help you — I want her returned at once.” 

“You got it.” Leo nodded before he swiftly vacated the area. 

“I’m going to need some guards with me to do this,” Liam spoke, more so to himself than anyone else. 

“Guards?” Olivia repeated. 

“Yes. I won’t risk something happening to him — we will immediately detain Bastien. If he did nothing wrong, I’ll release and reinstate him, but until then, I am officially removing him from his position as head guard.” Liam answered, but regardless of what he said out loud, both of them knew Bastien was guilty; they just weren’t sure of the extent. 

Olivia smirked. “Welcome to the game, King Liam. Would you like for me to assist with questioning?” 

“I have a different job for you first. I need you to sneak into the security office and search through everything. If he’s working to cover up crimes or anything of that nature, he’s got to have something on him — I’m sure of it.” 

“Knowing that cockeyed baboon, I’d say that’s a safe assumption.” Olivia snickered. “But I don’t know if I like the idea of you interrogating him by yourself...” She cast him an unsure glance. 

“I don’t plan on it, Liv. I just need to find Drake.” 

Almost as if on cue, Drake emerged from Penelope’s doorway, carefully dodging the caution tape. He glanced around and as his eyesight landed on Liam, he furrowed his brows and approached. “What’re you doing here, Li? Are you alright?” 

“We have something to take care of.” Liam quickly and quietly laid out the current plan, as well as a vague description of their accusations. 

“Fuck, man… I gotta admit — I had no clue why Liv and that guy had to leave, but I got to stick around.” Drake shook his head, trying to comprehend this blindsiding revelation. 

“If I had to take a guess, I’d say he wanted someone Liam trusted around but needed to ensure the person was completely and utterly clueless,” Olivia inserted with a crooked grin.

Drake scoffed. “First of all, fuck you. Second, you might actually be right, but — you’re still a flaming bitch.” 

“Stop trying to flatter me, Walker,” Olivia retorted, afterward focusing on Liam. “Are we doing this?” 

Liam let out a deep huff of air. “Yeah, we are. Let’s do this.” He responded with the utmost resolution. He squared his shoulders, craned his neck from side to side, and strode into the room with Drake close behind. Olivia took off in the other direction to do her part in Liam’s plan, moving with brisk precision to reach her destination. 

As he entered, Liam got the attention of a few guards and motioned for them to follow. Bastien examined underneath Penelope’s bed, completely oblivious to the added presence in the room. He cleared his throat to gather Bastien’s attention, and Liam noticed his shoulders tense as he identified who stood before him. 

Bastien slowly rose with uncertainty painted on his features. “Your Majesty? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be receiving treatment?” 

Liam chortled as he stalked toward Bastien. He kept a smile plastered in place and shook his head, muttering to himself. When he made it directly in front of him, Liam lowered his voice to a low, gravely rumble; the fake grin he wore instantly replaced by a menacing scowl. “... I bet you’d like that — wouldn’t you?”

Bastien visibly and audibly swallowed. “I don’t know what you’re insinuating, sir, but I—”

“Of course not.” Liam dismissively agreed. He took a couple of steps back and shrugged. “Regardless, you’re coming with us.”

Panic flashed in Bastien’s eyes; it was brief, but Liam caught it. “With all due respect, I’m not quite finished investigating Lady Penelope’s suic—”

“That is not what this is, and you damn well know it!” Liam abruptly shouted. A tense silence hung for only a moment until he cleared his throat and flatly added, “This is a homicide, and you are no longer a part of it.” He met eyes with one guard who got the silent order loud and clear, the other following suit. They rushed Bastien and captured his arms behind his back, securely holding him in place.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Bastien hollered as he attempted to evade their grip. 

“You’re being taken into custody.” 

“Whatever for?!” Bastien demanded. 

Drake stood in Bastien’s line of sight, mirroring Liam’s irate features. He held his gaze for a long, heated moment before snapping, “You’d better hope and pray we’re wrong, Bastien.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Drake?!” Bastien yelled, squirming against the grasp of those holding him.  

Neither answered the question but merely glared at him; the sheer betrayal and outrage they felt radiated off of them, eliciting a shiver to run down Bastien’s spine. He calmly reasoned, “Sir, I don’t know what this is about, but we can have a rational conversation without all of this nonsense.” He motioned to the guards holding him. 

“No, I don’t think we can, because you see —” Liam stalked toward Bastien, staring into his eyes so intently that he could almost see the wall behind him. As he made it into his comfort zone, Liam lowered his voice and rasped, “They’re only here to get rid of your body if I have to.” He smirked at Bastien’s wide eyes, as well as his complexion paling instantaneously. 

Liam held Bastien’s gaze but addressed the guards. “Take him down to the cells. I’ll be right behind you.”

As they dragged Bastien away, he hollered and stirred up a fuss. Liam ignored his pleas, instead trying to prepare himself for what lay ahead. He wanted clarity, but a part of him dreaded Bastien’s confession; it would be another stark reminder of what his negligence caused. The guilt tearing away at his insides was at an unfathomable level, but he had to push that aside to focus on the task at hand.

He tried to keep his composure, but the gloves were off; there was no more control. Bastien knew something and regardless of what he had to do, Liam was hell bent on making him talk. Innocent lives taken and families destroyed, along with Riley’s heinous attack — all of which rested heavily on his conscience. He was determined to serve a steaming hot platter of justice to all he deemed deserving, regardless of what it took.

The next step in making that happen was getting a pig to squeal. 

As he stood next to Drake, the facade of a composed monarch slipped onto the floor. He didn’t have enough strength left to keep it together. He embraced his emotions and vowed to follow their direction, but the only thing remaining was pure, unfiltered rage. 

Gone was the timid, people-pleasing prince with his mother’s baby-blue eyes. Instead, a carnal lion with dark, dilated pupils awakened, centered on the dangling piece of meat in his face — Bastien. 

[echoingbirdsofprey]

Lightning On My Lips (Every Time You Kiss Me)

22 - As Warm As A Glass Of Brandy

Pairing: Tyler Owens x OFC Georgia Tennley

Rating: Explicit (MDNI!)

Warnings: mentions of smut but no dice sorry

A/N: Sorry this took so long I had a brain malfunction about it lol. Enjoy!

Tags: @gpsmississippihippie

Playlist

Tyler awoke, his hips screaming.

“I knew I was gonna be sore.” He mumbled, rolling to the side of the bed. He grabbed his phone and checked it. No new messages from Samantha about his brother. He was worried about Jake. He felt a hand at his back. 

“Ty? You okay?” Georgia asked and he turned to face her, placing his hand on her stomach. He kissed her there and then trailed his lips up her body, making her blush and her skin heat rather quickly. “Yup you’re okay.” She laughed and when he reached her lips he took her chin in two fingers and held her there, his mouth covering hers with a neediness that wasn’t unusual for him, but there was certainly something on his mind.

“I’m worried about Jake.” He murmured into her shoulder. Georgia pulled him in closer, her arms wrapping around his head and neck. He settled there, taking a deep breath.

“I know you are. He’ll be okay. You have to believe that. Can I ask you something?” Her voice was soft by his ear and she nuzzled against him. 

“Yeah, what is it, Peach?” He asked and she shifted slightly, guiding his chin up so that she could look into his sage green eyes.

“What’s your favorite memory of Jake? Tell me a little more about him.” She said and Tyler laid his head against her chest then, sighing heavily. 

“Well...there’s a few that come to mind but one I guess that really stands out. R’member when I gave you your nickname?” Tyler asked, diving into his story as he ran his finger in circles over her exposed belly.

“Hey Arkansas.” Georgia said, smirking. Tyler glanced over Wilene’s painted back at her.

“Yes, Peach?” He asked.

“Where did you come up with that one?” She asked, continuing to run a brush over the mare’s shoulder and neck. 

“Well, you’re a peach. Yur a nice girl, and you taste so sweet.” Tyler said with a wild grin.

“You’re naughty.” Georgia shook her head and threw the brush at him.

“Well, you started it. I’m just gonna finish it.” He caught the brush and walked around the mare, then picking Georgia up in his arms and twirling her.

“Yeah?” She giggled as she kissed him.

“You bet, Peach.” He chuckled and placed her back down on her feet.

“I do like the sound of that.” She said with a huge smile.

“Knew you would. What were you goin’ to ask?” Tyler said, leaning down to kiss her and pull her close again.

“Oh, uh...are you goin’ out with the guys tonight or...” She asked.

“What would you like me to do?” He asked, holding her tight.

“Well, whatever you want...” She said and his smile reached his eyes then.

“Well then, no, I’m not. I’d actually much prefer to hang out with you.” He said and then his phone vibrated. “Sorry, it’s Jake. Gotta answer.” He said and answered the phone and walked a few feet away.

“Hey, Jake, what’s up?” Tyler asked and he heard whooping and yelling on Jake’s end.

“Guess who the fuck just got into Top Gun!” He yelled and Tyler’s eyes widened.

“You did?” Tyler asked.

“You bet yur ass I did! And top of my fuckin’ graduatin’ class at the Naval Academy!” Jake’s voice was ecstatic as he spoke into the phone.

“I knew ya would Jake. I’m so proud of you, bro. You call Kenny yet?” Tyler asked.

“Nah, wanted to call you first, big bro. I’ll call Kenny in a bit. How’s the rodeo life treatin’’ ya?” Jake asked as his fellow pilots tried to get him to come back to the party they were having. There was a cute blond girl eyeing him at the end of the bar.

“It’s great, yup...I uh...I met someone, Jake. I think I love her too.” Tyler said and Jake chuckled.

“ Oh Tee. You fall too easy. Gotta keep that delicate heart of yours locked up a lil’ better .” Jake said, and nodded at the blond.

“What about you? You seein’ anyone?” Tyler asked.

“Nah. Just havin’ fun. I ain’t ready to settle yet. Girl’s gonna have to be real fuckin’ special to get me to settle.” Jake said as he asked the bartender for another beer and sent one down to the blond.

“Hmm. Well...this girl I got...she sure makes me wanna do that. You’ll know when you meet your girl Jake. Hope you do soon, but for now, have fun and you know you make me so fuckin’ proud to be your brother. You’re gonna be one hell of a pilot, Jake.” Tyler said and he heard Jake laughing at the other end.

“Love you Ty. Miss you. I'll get down there to see you soon okay? Gotta meet this girl of yours. If yur still with her.” Jake said.

“Oh, I’m gonna stick with her for a long time, Jake. Love you, miss you, little bro.” Tyler said and he hung up the phone and headed back to help Georgia with her horses.

“Tyler...” Georgia whispered as he sat up, keeping his hand on her stomach. 

“What?” He asked, leaning down to kiss her again.

“I love how proud of him you are.” Georgia said, sitting up and reaching to caress Tyler’s cheek. He reached up and held onto her hand, kissing it as she ran it along his jawline. Tyler laid back down and nuzzled against her.

“Fuck. I'm so sore.” He said and Georgia rubbed circles on his back as they stayed in the bed for a bit longer. Tyler picked up his phone again and shot a quick text to Dustin.

Tyler: hey, you mind feeding this morning? Gee and I need a few more hours

He wasn't surprised at the speed with which the kid texted him back.

Dustin: sure boss! No classes today so I was planning to get everything done early anyway so I could get some extra sleep and study time

Tyler: youre the best, kiddo

“Y'know...I like havin’ Dustin around. He's a good kid.” Tyler murmured as he stealthily let his mouth travel to Georgia's breasts. She ran her fingers through his hair and laughed.

“Thought you were sore, Arkansas. ” Her voice took on a sultry tone as she used his old nickname. It sent a shiver down his spine and he caged her body in with his. 

“Mmm. But we don't have to go anywhere to have sex, Peach.” He purred as he lined himself up and she grabbed a hold of his shoulders with a wide smirk painted across her lips. 

🌪⛈️🌪

Tyler went through the next week or so with worry heavy in the pit of his stomach for Jake. His brother had been his best friend since they were little. Sure, he had Boone and everyone and he knew Jake had a buddy named Javy, but they were always number one to each other over everyone else. Just because a thousand and some miles separated them, didn't mean they didn't text or talk all the time, or that they didn't think of each other either. They had that funky twin sixth sense too.

Tyler could feel that Jake was somewhere in distress. It was a sinking feeling in his heart. It felt like someone had placed a weight on the bottom of it and let it drop like a ton of bricks. The anxiety Tyler felt for his brother had never been this strong before. He wondered if all of his other stresses had anything to do with it. 

It was only when his phone lit up with Samantha's name that he felt the full effect, as if he was dropping from a skyscraper. He’d been standing on the porch, watching Georgia work the filly in the arena.

“Hi, Tyler. They found him. He's on his way home but I may need help caring for him.” Sam said and Tyler was silent for a moment before speaking. Tyler needed to sit. He blew out a breath, the one he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding, and sunk into the Adirondack chair that faced the arena. He could still see Georgia atop the filly.

“Well, if possible, we could have you two come down here and stay at the ranch for as long as you need.” He suggested and Sam was hesitant but she accepted the offer.

“When he's home, I'll ask. I know he wanted to see you anyway and I'm sure you're busy so it'd be better if we came to you.” Sam suggested and Tyler agreed softly. 

“Whatever y’all need. You just keep me posted, okay?” Tyler said and Sam assured him she would. He hung up and he breathed a sigh of relief, as heavy as a cloud filled with rain. 

Grits, the fast growing red puppy, bounded onto the porch and slid to a sit at Tyler’s feet. He reached down to pet the little guy, and scratched behind his ears.

“My little buddy. C’mon up here.” He patted his lap and Grits jumped right up. Tyler settled a hand on the puppy’s back and continued watching his wife on the filly. He hadn’t really thought too much about it, but they didn’t have a big to-do for getting married. Just the piece of paper and a witness. They didn’t need a big ceremony with a shitload of people. They just needed each other and their families, or what was left of them. 

🌪⛈️🌪

“What do you think about Jake and his fiance, Sam, comin’ down here and spendin’ some time?” Tyler asked as he helped Georgia with Tulsa. Her back was sore from riding, and from being pregnant, so it was becoming more difficult for her to get certain things done around the horses. She was going to have to stop riding soon, as she wasn’t going to fit in her saddle with her belly getting bigger.

“That might be good. Might be nice to have your brother around instead of spending all your time with me.” Georgia mused with a smile.

“I never get tired of spendin’ time with you. You...get tired of spendin’ time...with me?” He asked hesitantly and she shook her head.

“No, never. I just think it’d be nice if you had him around for a while. I know how much you miss him. I know it’s been a long time since you’ve seen him.” She said as she opened the poultice clay for the filly’s legs. Tyler dipped his hand in it, took a giant glob out, bent down, and smeared it on Tulsa’s front legs. Georgia had taught him years ago how she liked her horses’ legs poulticed and he remembered. It was the little things like that, that she loved the most about him.

When he rose, he grabbed another handful and did the filly’s back legs, then wiped his hands on a towel. Tyler always appreciated how safe Georgia made sure her horses were. It would make it all too easy for them to have horses for their kids. Georgia thanked him and then she reached for one of his hands and he then took her other. He stared into her pretty blue eyes for several moments, wanting to kiss her but being content in the moment to just admire her. 

“God, I sure do love ya a whole lot, Gee.” He said softly, inching closer until their noses were nearly touching. His forehead bumped hers gently and he smirked, then gave in to his desires and kissed her passionately. Her brows knit and she melted into him, his arms wrapping around her waist, her hands going for his hair and the back of his neck. When they parted, they left each other panting, staring dazed into each other’s irises. 

🌪⛈️🌪

Tyler and Sam had spoken briefly over the phone when Jake had been in his first therapy appointment. She said she'd have him call Tyler when he got out so that they could finally talk. He waited until they were home and settled, Sam taking up a seat opposite him on the couch with her laptop so she could do some work.

“Hey, bro.” Tyler said over the line. Jake sat uncomfortably in his position and blew air from pursed lips. “Uh-oh. I know that noise. What’s up?”

“This sucks.” Jake sighed and let his head fall back against the back of the couch.

“The fact that you can’t fly or drive or do anything or...?” Tyler asked and Jake groaned. He placed the phone on speaker and put it near his head. He didn’t feel like holding it. His free arm was tired.

“Yeah. I’m like a fucking vegetable.” Jake’s eyes met Sam’s and her brows furrowed. Tyler laughed.

“I bet you could still beat the ever livin’ shit outta some’un if ya had to.” Tyler said, and then he chuckled again. “Not me though. I’d still kick yur ass even with all yur broken bones.” 

There was a hint of a smile on Jake’s face and Sam noticed it. “Bet you would.” Jake said and then he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Hey, you and my fiance have been cookin’ up some sort of vacation for me, I hear?” Sam observed what seemed to be stress radiating from Jake. She couldn’t understand why a vacation would stress him.

“Yessir. Just a matter of how long you wanna stay for. Would be nice to see you, introduce y’all to Georgia, and take ya to see momma and pops.” Tyler said and there was silence on the line then. Jake was thinking. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see everyone. It was more that he had a different set of priorities rolling around his brain at the moment and they didn’t quite line up with everyone else’s priorities for him. He knew he needed to talk to Sam about it, but he was mentally drained from today. So he just agreed to appease everyone for now.

“Yeah that sounds great. I think I’d like to be out of the sling before we head down there though...” Jake said and Tyler chuckled.

“Probably a good idea. Then I can get you up on a horse and see if you can still rope.” Tyler said as he settled into the saddle atop Rascal. 

“You got a horse I can rope off?” Jake asked, sitting up. Sam noted his change in demeanor and smiled. He needed the vacation but he needed to be active. Sitting around wasn’t doing any good for him.

“Sure do. We’ll make it a competition.” Tyler mused and Jake laughed a little.

“As usual.” Jake said with a smirk.

“Got plenty of shit to do down here. Just like when we were kids.” Tyler’s voice started to go in and out and Jake could hear the wind through the phone.

“A little breezy down there?” Jake asked and Tyler shifted in the saddle. He’d parked Rascal right by the fence. Georgia was just getting off of Tulsa and getting on Twist.

“Yeah, got some weather coming in tonight. I might go chase this one. It’ll be close by if we get anything.” Tyler said and then he glanced at Georgia. That was going to be the part that hurt him the most, was the leaving to go on chases without her.

“You’ll have to bring me on one sometime.” Jake said.

“And you’ll have to take me up in one’a those jets sometime.” Tyler said.

“I promised someone else I’d do that too.” Jake said, glancing over at Sam, who was typing away on her laptop, seemingly not noticing what he said. But, she did, and it made a comfortable warmth rise up inside of her. Jake felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him and he closed his eyes so he decided to end the call with Tyler. That made him sad to do so. “Hey sorry, I'm starting to fall asleep. Still pretty tired. I'll call you again tomorrow?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, sure. Get some rest. Love ya, miss ya.” Tyler said with a grin that he wished Jake could see. It would probably put his brother at ease. Jake hung up and Tyler sighed as Georgia made her way over.

“Is he okay?” She asked and Tyler squinted before putting his sunglasses on. The sun was bright and high in the sky and the reflection of it off the light colored arena dirt bothered his eyes.

“He doesn't sound like himself. I know he's on some meds and he's exhausted. He sounds like me after my accident...” Tyler murmured and Georgia reached over and placed her hand on his cheek.

“Well, who better to help him through it than you, huh?” She said softly and he smiled, then motioned to the open expanse of the arena. They trotted their horses off together and enjoyed the sound of hoof beats in the dirt and the silence that floated around it.

[thieves-never-say-die]

what was the motivation/inspiration behind "kids (aren't) alright" 👀

pretend like this ask isn't several months old whoops

Honestly it was mostly motivated by the posts @innytoes made about wanting a leverage ot3 high school au (here and here) and I took those posts and kind of ran with them lmao. Then it became a game of "how many side characters can I fit in and where would they make sense".

I also have like, a Whole Timeline planned out, and this ask made me reread my notes, so fun bonus future content: the first arc focuses on Eliot, the middle arc focuses on Hardison, and the last arc focuses on Parker (they still get scenes and stuff when its not "their" arc, but the fic is not focusing on them as much). Eliot's arc is pretty much over, and I don't have super detailed notes for Parker's arc yet, but Hardison's arc is going to involve the first instance of them doing Crime together and exposing shady teachers who are taking bribes from certain students to boost grades (you can probably guess which student/teacher combo I'm talking about here lol). Trevor Dawson from The Hot Potato Job is also set to pop up soon as another foster kid with the Hardison's. Also, part of Parker's arc is going to revolve around the school year ending and her trying to figure out what to do for the next year - does she stay in high school or does she go back to being a full time thief?

[eemcintyre]

The Door is Open (Tom Cruise)

TW- Mentions of harassment. Other than that, just pure fluffy goodness with a dash of hurt/comfort to send us off.

Summary- you are a production assistant on the set of a 90s Tom Cruise movie, and he steps in when one of his costars threatens you (**I created a fictional movie and a fictional costar bc I'm not about to slander some random real-life actor for no reason lol**). Additional note: in this universe, he's only been married to Mimi Rogers.

A warm thank you to anyone who takes the time to read; this is just me having fun and taking the serotonin where I can get it

“Cut!” the director exclaimed as the cast finished filming the last of the scenes they had hoped to do before lunch. Just as crew members began to mill around set and the hum of conversation started up, as Tom Cruise ran a hand through his grown-out hair and did a couple of arm and back stretches, Y/N entered the soundstage balancing two cardboard trays full of drinks.

Although the caterer provided general meals and beverages, some of the cast and crew preferred to order drinks from an artisan café down the street. And, as one of the production assistant/PAs on the set of “Gold Rush,” it was Y/N’s job to run down the aforementioned street, to the aforementioned café, to fetch the aforementioned drinks, as well as do essentially any odd small job that anyone ranked higher than her asked her to do. And pretty much everyone was ranked higher than the PAs.

Although the work could be exhausting and she didn’t get a lot of please-s or thank you-s for what she did, Y/N was really enjoying the experience for the most part. She found it really interesting to see what went into all of the different units’ work, from set construction to costuming to lighting (when she wasn’t running for bottles of water or copies of the script, which was a lot of the time), but one thing she had not hoped to learn, at least so early on in her film career, was how slimy some of the actors could be.

While Tom Cruise, despite being the most well-known and successful actor in Hollywood, seemed from her observations to be the image of class and generosity, one of his co-stars, Bill Waters, was… less so. To be completely accurate, Bill Waters was a conceited asshole who faked affability around those he felt could benefit him and was used to getting anything he wanted at the snap of his fingers. And one of the things he had recently wanted, and was appalled to have not received, was Y/N. The other day, he had approached her alone outside the soundstage building and forcefully propositioned her, to the point that she had to slap him to escape his hold.

Ever since then, despite her rigorous attempts to avoid him, he had criticized, embarrassed, and overworked her at every chance. A couple of days ago, he yelled at her for taking so long to bring him a dish from a restaurant located across town, and yesterday, he’d purposely spilled the coffee she’d just brought him, just so she would have to get another one.

As she quickly made her way through the room, handing each coffee and tea to its recipient, she tried not to make eye contact with the fast-approaching Bill. When she thrusted the paper cup into his hand, he made a point to stroke her fingers when he took it from her. Y/N glanced up, startled, met with a faint smirk that made her sick to her stomach. She decided not to respond, hoping he would lose interest and go away as she moved on to the next set of people across the room, but he pursued her until he matched her speed-walking pace.

“Hey, this isn’t what I ordered,” he said, putting the cup in her face so that she had to narrowly dodge a passing crew member to not get doused.

“You said that you wanted a caramel brulée latte, and that’s what it is.”

“Oh, I must have forgotten to say that I didn’t want whipped cream. Whoops.” His smirk grew wider and more punchable as she kept failing to out-walk him without attracting attention. “Anyway, I’m not drinking this; you’ll have to run back out so you can get me the right thing.”

“Can’t you just skim it off the top?” Y/N protested, preparing to round a tight corner around a large set piece that several people were transporting, when she felt a searing pain across the front of her torso.

Dazed from the pain and the many eyes that were now on her, it took a moment for Y/N to register that the front of her shirt was splattered with Bill’s rejected coffee. A couple of her acquaintances from the hair and makeup department ran to get her some towels, as everyone else continued to stare.

“What is wrong with you?” Bill gasped, anger coloring his face. After a few moments of stunned silence, another voice chimed in.

“What the hell’s going on?” Tom Cruise appeared, confused, from within the assembled crowd. He sighted Y/N, dripping with coffee, and Bill, red in the face with obvious irritation, and his eyebrows furrowed suspiciously.

“She ran into me and made me spill my drink,” Bill complained, rolling his eyes.

“Hey, I saw you throw it at her,” Tom replied sternly. “You threw a hot coffee at Y/N. Why would you do that?” His voice was level and at a calm, low volume, but in his eyes, one could see that he was pissed. Even in the midst of the immense embarrassment, she was surprised and pleased that Tom Cruise, of all people, knew her name.

Y/N’s friends reappeared with handfuls of towels, and as they made their way to help dry her soaked shirt, Tom took one of the towels to hand to her as well.

“Well? What is wrong with you?” he continued to prod Bill. 

“What’s wrong with me?” Bill’s gestures and expressions were becoming more agitated. “She’s the one who can’t figure out how to order the right drinks, or even hold them- I want her fired.”

Y/N paled, feeling even more sick and now slightly dizzy, at the prospect of her film career going down in flames before it could hardly begin.

“Do you think that, just because you’re more famous than she is, that you don’t have to treat her like a person? Is that it?” Tom glared.

“Do you think just because you’re Tom fucking Cruise that you can talk to me that way? Because I won’t stand for it.”

“I won’t stand for that kind of bullshit on my set,” Tom snarled, his temper finally slipping through to the open. “You can be a decent fucking person or you can get out. We’ll find someone else; no one’s irreplaceable.”

“Except you and whoever kisses your ass,” Bill spat, storming out past the crowd.

“You are out of here!” Tom yelled after him, even though he and everyone else knew that he most likely didn’t have the authority to make such a decision, even given his status in the industry.

Taken aback by the scene they had just witnessed, it took a few minutes for the crowd to dissipate. Y/N retreated outside to the parking lot behind the soundstage, dabbing at her stained shirt, her mind reeling with the very real possibility that her time on the “Gold Rush” set was over.

Realizing Tom had followed her out and was gazing at her with concern, she mustered “Mr. Cruise, t-thank you; you didn’t have to do that. I don’t want to cause any problems…”

“Did you throw a hot coffee on him?” Tom asked gently.

“N-no…?”

“Did you just curse everyone out?” The hint of a smile flickered at the corners of his mouth.

“No…”

“Well, unless you start doing that, you have nothing to worry about, as far as I’m concerned.” He paused, studying how she avoided his gaze. “He isn’t any better than you or me.”

They experienced another awkward silence, as no one else was currently in that part of the lot.

“Was that the first time that happened? Because I remember he also spilled his coffee yesterday. Maybe he’s the one who can’t figure out how to hold things.” Tom met Y/N’s surprised look knowingly, and with that, she found herself beginning to lose her composure.

“No, it’s not the first time,” her voice cracked, and she crossed her arms in a self-soothing motion as tears began to fall. “He’s pissed because I wouldn’t sleep with him- oh gosh, Mr. Cruise, I’m so sorry for crying, this is the last thing you need…” She covered her face, utterly mortified to be having a mental breakdown in front of Tom Cruise. She inhaled shakily in an effort to rein it back in. “I’m okay, I’m fine.”

“I want you to take fifteen minutes,” Tom replied softly, reaching for one of her heaving shoulders. “We need to get you a new shirt- I have an extra crew t-shirt from when they were handing them out the other day- and speaking of drinks, have you had anything to drink recently?” Y/N shrugged, not wanting to admit it and seem even more needy. “That’s what I thought,” he shook his head. “You can sit in my trailer where no one will bother you, and then you’ll be ready to get back out there and finish the day on a high note.”

“Mr. Cruise, that’s very nice of you, but I don’t know…”

He realized she might be wary of the idea of his trailer after Bill had made his move on her. “We can keep the door open the whole time. I’ll sit on the opposite side of the trailer,” he grinned, raising his hands in a yielding gesture for emphasis.

“I- I didn’t mean-” she stammered, not wanting to offend another of the cast members.

“It’s alright.” He waved her forward in the direction of his trailer, and she conceded. “Now, we just have to stop this Mr. Cruise business. Y/N, please feel free to call me Tom.”

~

Once they reached his trailer, as promised, Tom left the door open behind them. After rooting through a few boxes and drawers, he located the aforementioned t-shirt.

“It is a men’s medium, and it’s not exactly a fashion statement…” he winced.

“It’ll do just fine; it doesn’t have any coffee on it, and that’s what I’m interested in.” Y/N finally found it in her to smile before quickly getting changed in the small trailer bathroom. She noted the towels, cologne, and other personal items on the sink counter, and it hit her more fully that she was literally in Tom Cruise’s trailer, a place she never could have envisioned visiting.

When she reemerged, she saw Tom leaning against the wall near the opposite end of the trailer, and a bottle of water that had been placed at the table down by her.

“I hope you like that kind; I mentioned I liked it and they sent me a whole case,” Tom chuckled. “Anyway, I can’t finish it all by myself.”

“Thanks.” Y/N slid into one of the bench seats at the table and took a sip. “At least my last day as a PA will end on a good note,” she winced.

“No one is going to fire you,” Tom insisted. “You’re a kind, cheerful person when you’re not getting hot coffee thrown at you, and you’ve got a great work ethic. Both rare things in this industry a lot of the time. You aren’t going anywhere, trust me; you still have a future.”

Y/N took another sip of her water.

“What are you hoping to do in movies? Are you another aspiring actress, or do you want something more niche like makeup, production design, directing?”

“Not sure yet. I’m still trying to see what I like the most. Reading about it and doing it are two very different things, you know.”

Tom nodded, understanding. “You have family nearby?”

Y/N shook her head. “Tennessee.”

“A country girl," he grinned. "What do they think of your career choice?”

“They’re warming up to it.”

“I was lucky, my family was always really supportive.”

“Do you get to see them very often? It seems like you always go, go, go,” Y/N laughed quietly.

“Not as much as I’d like, but… enough,” he nodded again, as if confirming he was satisfied with his own answer.

Y/N suddenly recalled Tom’s recent divorce. Even though he and his ex-wife hadn’t had any children, they had still been together several years, and Y/N was sure it must have been difficult for him. As they were on the topic of family, she made a point not to mention even indirectly anything to do with those matters.

“Well, everyone’s got to take a break once in a while. Maybe after this picture wraps you can spend some time with them.”

“Yeah,” Tom replied, his gaze momentarily drifting into the distance. “But until then, it’s nice to have some company now.”

“I’ll have another mental breakdown just for you, so we can do it again sometime,” Y/N joked, trying to make light of her humiliation. To her relief, Tom laughed in response, diffusing some of her tension. “I should probably be going. They’ll be looking for me once they run out of drinks.” Y/N rose to her feet, grabbing her water and her soiled shirt.

“Well, if you would ever like to drop by again, my door is open- literally.” He gestured to the open trailer door. “And you let me know if Bill ever bothers you again- I’ve learned a lot of fighting moves from working on this movie and I can kick his ass.”

“Okay. I would love to see that,” Y/N replied, making her way to the front of the trailer and toward Tom. “No,” her tone of voice became serious again, “You’ve already done more than I could have asked for.” In the confines of the trailer, she and he came closely face-to-face as she neared the doorway.

“Well, sometimes, all you have to do is ask.” He smiled warmly and they shared an intense moment of eye contact before Y/N shyly looked away. Tom exited the trailer ahead of her, reaching out his hand for her to take from where he stood on the ground, to guide her down the couple of stair steps. “Now, go get ‘em.”

“It’s true, you really are a relentless optimist,” Y/N smiled and shook her head. They waved each other goodbye, and then she headed back in the direction of the soundstage, feeling like she could face the rest of the day again, and maybe even the rest of the production. Even though all of her anxieties didn’t magically go away, she figured that, with Tom Cruise in her corner, she had little to worry about.

[tea-stained-notes]

Steve Rogers x OFC - Waiting On a Miracle, Chapter 7

After catching an infamous serial killer in the act, Julie Castillo is in line for the witness protection program. She is sent to a temporary safe house with U.S. Marshal Steve Rogers to protect her. Both of them scarred by trauma and tragedy, they find solace in each other. But how far will they dare to go?

Somehow, another two months have passed - whoops. But you're being rewarded with an extra long chapter that is mostly smut FINALLY lol Hope you enjoy!

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 6

Series warnings: violence, death, angst, trauma, smut

Chapter warnings: anxiety, smut

Chapter word count: ~3250

Song(s) referenced: -

When I entered the kitchen the following morning, Steve looked as if he had slept as much as me: not at all. We mumbled our greetings, a tension in the air that felt nothing like the one from the night before. He was washing his breakfast dishes while I prepared my tea and porridge. Our usual easy dance around each other was awkward and clumsy, apologies given and accepted with eyes cast downward. Eventually he muttered something about chopping firewood, pulled on his boots and jacket, then practically ran out the front door. I folded myself into a chair, trying to soothe the burning ache in my stomach with sips of chamomile tea. Like countless times during the night, silent tears began running down my cheeks. His rejection stung so much worse than I could have imagined. The urge to run from this place, where every detail was infused with him, was overwhelming. I was only now realizing how lonely I had been before him. How much I had longed for the kind of connection I had been denying myself after my mother’s death. How easily and quietly he had made my heart his home. For the first time in weeks I desperately wished for my phone. To call Finn, Samira, Emerson, my dad. To catch up with all the other people I had pushed away over the years. Once I was back in the city, I would do better, would learn to lean on others without the constant fear of losing them. Because even the pain of Steve’s cop-out wasn’t enough to make me regret all the beautiful moments I had spent with him.

When Steve came back inside two hours later, I was mindlessly watching a movie, rubbing my jaw that had once more started hurting from constant clenching. “What are you watching?” he asked quietly. “You’ve Got Mail.” “Missing New York?” I nodded, marveling at how well he could read me. “Wanna join me?” My voice was uneven, breathless. He hesitated for a moment, then gave me a crooked smile. “Sure. Let me wash up and I’ll be right there.”

It became easier again. Little by little we rediscovered our groove, despite the extra distance on the couch, despite his excuses to escape the cabin, despite the constant craving in my chest. Our conversations stayed light, no mention of our impending return to the city. But underneath it all lingered the almost of that one evening. And after three sleepless nights I found myself waking from a deep, satisfying slumber, engulfed in warmth and softness and — his scent. I startled, then locked eyes with Steve above me, his face entirely unreadable. An episode of Sherlock was running on the TV, but definitely not the one I remembered watching, so only God knew how long I had been asleep and how on earth I had managed to burrow into his side like that. Pushing myself up and kicking off the blanket, I stumbled to my feet. “Sorry, I’m so sorry.” Between blushing and fighting a dizzy spell, I could barely press out the words. “Goodnight.” I rushed towards the bathroom, slammed the door shut and took the first breath in a minute. My heart was pounding and still aching from having torn myself from him so rapidly. Only when I was rubbing soap and water over my face did I realize that his arm had been around me. Holding me tightly to his chest.

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind still reeling. I had to talk to him. In the morning I would force him to have the conversation we had been avoiding. This game we were playing was killing me and I could no longer bear the thought of leaving him and our little world behind without at least trying one more time. Suddenly a small shift in my periphery drew my eyes to the door. The sliver of light beneath it was obstructed by two shadows. Feet. My breath caught in my throat. I hadn’t heard any noise from Steve in over an hour, he must have long gone to sleep. Sweat broke out on my forehead as my pulse began to race. Parker was here. He had found me after all. But this time I refused to let panic take over. It would do nothing to save me. Instead I focused on the adrenaline, on the way it sharpened my senses. And the first thing I realized against every instinct was that my bed was the least safe place right now. Soundlessly, I slipped out from under the covers and set my feet on the floor. I glanced around the room, desperate for some sort of weapon. God, why hadn’t I thought this through before? How could I be stupidly unprepared? Then my eyes fell on a heavy brass candlestick on the dresser. Perfect. Straining my ears for any kind of noise I tiptoed across the room. While I was glad Parker was biding his time, the horrifying plans probably running through his brain right now chilled me to the bone. Focus. My hand closed around the cool metal and I jubilated on the inside. If my luck served me well, I might just make it over to the door. And if I could lock it, that should buy me enough time to call out for Steve before Parker could try to force his way in. Silent second after second ticked by while I crept forward, praying the wooden floor boards wouldn’t betray me. Finally my fingers touched the key and with a deep breath I hastily turned it. Thank God. I almost cried from relief. But just as I opened my mouth to shout Steve’s name, a voice rang through the door.

“Julie? Please don’t lock me out, it’s dangerous. Please, I—“ My fingers acted on their own, turning the key back and ripping open the door. And there he stood. Eyes wide, hair ruffled, hands raised. “It’s you,” I choked before the tears overwhelmed me. “Of course it’s me.” Steve’s face fell. “God, did you…? I’m so sorry, did you think I was him? Oh, sweetheart.” My heart didn’t have time to leap at the pet name, too busy being flooded with pure serotonin at the sight of him. Then I sank into his arms, clinging to him through the sobs that racked my body. “It’s alright, I’m here,” he said softly, caressing my hair. “I was so scared.” “I know, I’m terribly sorry. But you did so well, arming yourself and locking the door. And I didn’t hear you during any of that. I’m really proud of you.” I relished his words and closeness for a moment longer. Then anger slammed into me. I pulled back abruptly, stumbling away from him, the candlestick landing on the floor with a harsh clang. “What the fuck were you doing anyway? Why would you just stand outside my door like that, creeping me out?” “I-I don’t— I don’t know,” he stammered. “Of course you know! What were you doing?” I roughly brushed off my tears while staring up at him in defiance. His chest rose and fell rapidly. ���I was… trying to talk myself out of something.” “Out of what?” Something in his eyes sent a shiver down my spine. “This.” And then his lips were on mine, almost searing with heat and longing. A moan escaped me when he wrapped his arms around my waist and molded my body to his. Every inch of me was on fire, the adrenaline from earlier still coursing through my veins and heightening every sensation of the kiss. I sighed his name as his lips traveled down my neck and he groaned in response. He lifted me up, my legs immediately locking around his hips. A second later my back hit the wall and the dull pain only intensified the impossible need for him. “God, Julie,” he panted while trailing kisses along my collarbone. “What are you doing to me?” A string of curses left his mouth as I buried my fingers in his hair and ground my center into his. I was ravenous for him in a way I had never been for anyone. All my brain demanded was more, more, more. “Wait.” My stomach dropped. Fuck. He had come to his senses and the pain after this would be even worse than before. His eyes sank into mine. “I don't want to rush. Not this. Not with you.” Fresh tears of relief formed as I pressed my palm to his chest, connecting to the thundering heartbeat beneath his skin. My other hand caressed his neck, then drew a soft line from his brow along his jaw. I brushed another kiss against his lips, incredulous at finally being able to do this. “Me neither.”

Steve carefully let me slide back onto my feet, then took my hand and walked backwards to my bed, never breaking eye contact. The light from the hallway painted his features in a soft glow. He was perfect. A small tug on my fingers and I was cradled against his chest once more, his mouth seeking out mine. My hands found a sliver of warm, smooth skin beneath the hem of his shirt, which drew a soft moan from him. Still a slave to my greedy heart, I slowly pushed the fabric upwards and he lifted his arms for me, so I could cast the shirt aside. I only took a second to marvel at his torso before pressing my lips to the revealed skin. Overwhelmed by all these new sensations, I barely noticed his own hands carefully unbuttoning and removing my pyjama top. “Are you cold?” he whispered as he ran his fingertips over the goosebumps on my arms. I shook my head, then gently pulled him into me, both of us gasping when skin met skin. We stood like that for a long moment. Lost in each other. “Will you lie down for me, darling?” he finally murmured. I obeyed almost in trance, still scared that if we lost contact for even an instant, everything could shatter. Steve kneeled between my legs. His gaze swept over me, growing evermore mesmerized. Then he leaned forward, placed his palms beside my rib cage and kissed me again. Unhurried but deeply. I melted beneath him as his lips and tongue trailed down my neck, then across my chest and stomach. “God, Steve…” My eyes flew open when his mouth left my skin. He was looking up at me, his hands on the hem of my pants. “Yes. Please, yes.” With a soft kiss to my hipbone he disposed of my pyjama bottoms and underwear in one fluid motion. His mouth and fingers traveled up my thighs, closer and closer to my overflowing wetness. When he finally licked through it, I startled myself with a desperate groan. He briefly caught my gaze, a sparkle in his eyes. Then he pushed my legs further apart, moaning as he buried himself between them and driving me crazy with the soft reverberations. I lasted merely a couple of minutes, hands tugging at his strands, sighing mindless words of praise. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Let go.” Right on cue my insides shattered and I floated away on a cloud of pure bliss. Steve slowed his movements, then pulled away to lick his lips clean.

I pushed myself upright and brought his face to mine to kiss off the smug smile. “Happy with yourself?” “Very. But more importantly: Are you?” “I think you know the answer to that, Mr Rogers.” He let me maneuver him onto his back and I took a minute to catch my breath and lose it all over again at the sight of him under me. “You’re gorgeous.” A soft blush dusted his cheeks. “Ditto.” “Thanks, Swayze,” I chuckled. “No, I mean it. You’re incredible, Julie.” With a fluttering pulse I captured his lips once more before pressing urgent words into his neck. “I need you.” “You have me,” he sighed. I reverently ran my hands over his chest, then slowly peeled off his remaining clothes. When my fingers closed around his length, Steve made a strangled noise, his brows furrowed. “You okay?” “God, yes.” The small grin vanished off my face when he suddenly sat up and panted “Condom.” I blinked at him. “Oh, yeah, good thinking.” It felt anything but. I was not special at all. He had packed condoms, like this was a regular occurrence. Like taking a woman to a safe house would inevitably end in sex. Before I could spiral completely, Steve raised his hands to my face. “I didn’t bring them,” he said softly. “Natasha slipped me some the other day. ‘Just in case.’” A relieved laugh escaped me. “Of course she did.” “But I was crazy enough to actually put one in my pocket tonight.” His thumbs drew small circles on my cheeks. “We can still stop if you want to.” I turned my face to breathe a kiss into his palm. “Never.”

A minute later I was safely dragging my wetness across his erection while Steve caressed every bit of me he could reach. The momentary hurt was forgotten and when I brought him to my entrance, he slid into me without a trace of resistance. By the time he bottomed out we were both panting. His hands on my thighs burned into my skin. I gave us a moment to adjust before settling into a lazy rhythm. “You feel so good,” he breathed. “So perfect for me.” One of his fingers traced a line from my throat to my navel. I leaned back at the slight pressure and moaned deeply at the sensation of the new angle. Heat was swirling around my stomach and chest as I increased the tempo. Everything was too much and yet not enough. Steve seemed to sense this, so deeply in tune with me after the intense few weeks behind us. He let his hand glide down until his thumb reached my clit and began drawing tight circles on it. I gasped, tilting my hips forward. But just when I started tightening around him, Steve placed both hands on my waist and stopped my movements. “No, please,” I whined but he just smiled with an unexpected twinkle in his eyes. “Trust me, it will be even better if you’re patient.” I hovered on the precipice for another second before the sharp edges of frenzy slowly blurred, leaving a sweet, tingling tension. Maybe he was right. I took a deep breath as I traced his cheek with my fingers and his softening gaze tugged at my very core. He pushed himself up, then pulled me into him. I winced as he slid deeper, but his embrace was warm and tight, calming me after that brush with ecstasy. My arms wound around his neck as I pressed a long kiss to his forehead. With our sweat-slicked skin fusing together and his hard length reaching unknown depths inside of me, we felt like a single entity, sustained entirely by heat and closeness. I love you. The words flashed through my mind with such force and conviction, I feared I had spoken them aloud. But my lips were still molded to Steve’s hairline. Relieved, I drew back slightly to find his mouth with mine and pour everything I did not dare confess into the kiss. My heart ached at almost feeling it in his response, the yearning, the need to hold him like this forever that rippled across my whole body. Could this be real? Could this ever exist outside these walls?

All worries paled when his tongue traced a path along my jawline to my pulse point where he began sucking softly. I took a shuddering breath as the fire inside me flared up. “Julie,” he whispered. My voice was no longer my own, so I guided his face to my chest and once more started to rock into him. Within moments I was on the brink again. Steve’s mouth was hot and eager while his hands guided the rolling of my hips, taking us both to new heights. “Fuck, Steve, don’t stop,” I rasped and his approving hum vibrated through the nipple he had latched onto. Everything about this was just right, the friction, the pressure, the angle — and suddenly I was screaming. White flashes overtook my vision and I shook so violently Steve pulled me even closer to steady me. He was panting almost as hard as me, visibly straining under the effort of holding back his own climax. Then he flipped us over to push my back into the mattress. I whimpered at the overstimulation but couldn’t help admiring the incredible sight of him above me. His golden skin glistened as his muscles worked tirelessly for every thrust. One of his hands found mine and they locked together tightly, a connection that almost felt deeper than the one stoking flames inside my belly. The pleasure curling down my spine was laced with a strange sense of belonging and I only hoped he was too lost in his own lust to notice the tears trickling down my temples. I love you so much. My heart tightened once again with the intense realization. “Come for me, darling” I said instead. “Please.” He groaned and redoubled his efforts, once more triggering my orgasm that hadn’t fully subsided. We cried out in unison as he finally let himself go. “Julie,” he croaked. His arms were shaking, barely holding him up, and I wondered how much of it was physical exhaustion and how much might be emotion similar to the one overwhelming my own heart. The shock and relief of having given into something at last. Given something unexpected a chance. Whatever it was, I didn't want him this far away anymore. The few inches between us were still too much, my skin prickling with the urge to pull him close again. So I did. And when I wrapped my arms around his shoulder blades, he melted into me with a deep sigh. As if, at least for a moment, he was too weary to fight anymore. He became perfectly pliable under my hands as they ran up and down his smooth back, his face fitted into the crook of my neck. The sensation of everything Steve crashed over me so rapidly that I had to press my lips into his temple to keep them from betraying me. I couldn't tell him. Not yet, not now. He had wanted me, yes. And he still lingered, seemingly content in losing his control and laser-focus for a little while. But that didn't mean any of this would last past our stay at the cabin. Even past that night.

I had hoped, however, that we could remain in our perfect bubble until dawn at least. Had still found unconditional affection in his eyes as I had led him into the shower. But even while his fingers gently rubbed soap into my skin, I could feel him slipping away from me, drawing further into his own little safe house with every passing second. And I had no idea how to bring him back. He stood by my bed when I settled under the blanket, his eyes once more unreadable. “Go to sleep, I'm just gonna get some water.” “Hurry back,” I yawned. He nodded once, the smallest of smiles on his lips. I sank into the sheets, letting his scent engulf me as sleep pulled me under.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

CHAPTER 8

MASTERLIST

Tag List: @multifanworld @peguem-o-pombo-agora @cvanstagram @yslvtre @wandasrogers @littleredone88 @before-we-get-started @sophham @missaprilt23 @chrissusmissus @dvmb-whxre @daddydraco0 @quicksilversthings @thechoosenonecreator @rosellia-hudsons @lokirogersgirl @nekoannie-chan @readawaythereality2 @yal1d @hyperfixationhovel

[the-kr8tor]

Hobie screams at the sky for his favourite deity like 'BABEE CAN U COME DOWN PLS...' 'i want a kiss:(' Daily Hobie HC! Week three, day two! It had been months since the apocalypse started, with Hobie's group of survivors having been decreased to only Gwen, Miles and him. He avoided thinking about Pavitr's or your deaths, yet the memories of the screams haunted him. It was Hobie's turn to patrol the area around the bunker, while Gwen was sharpening her weapons and Miles was sharpening wood to make arrows. He made his way out, parting the long grass that stayed in his way as he walked around the vicinity, keeping a sharp eye out for any zombies that neared. Hobie's eyes widened as he heard a groan nearby, wasting no time in taking out his gun and holding it, his finger resting on the trigger as he stalked closer to the source of the groaning noise, most likely a zombie. However, he wasn't expecting the next sight. The zombie had noticed him, and was staring right into his eyes. The two seemed frozen in time, and Hobie couldn't help but...feel a sense of familiarity around this undead being. It wasn't until the word 'Hobes' fell from the zombie's mouth, that he knew it was you. You looked ruined, your stance wobbly and your injuries gaping to reveal bits of your skeletal structure, but you were still as beautiful as the day you died in his eyes. Hobie lowered the gun, tears gathering in his eyes as he opened his arms for you again. Hobie breathed out shakily as you ran into his arms once more. Your body was cold, dead, but it was still you. It wasn't your fault you were a zombie, it was his. He cupped your cheek, allowing you to lean into the warmth of his head as he processed your consciousness. His eyes didn't see a zombie now, but the person he loved so dearly, that he lost weeks ago. A part of him died when you did, and now that he found you again, that part of him felt alive once more. Hobie had missed you so much, not even caring if you bit him now. At least he'd be with you if you did. But you didn't bite him. With your saved human consciousness, you were more into eating pre-killed corpses than killing. Hobie took your hand in his gently, kissing your knuckles. He let out a small, hushed chuckle as you seemed to get flustered, surprised that he wasn't even repulsed in the slightest. You let yourself be tugged along with Hobie as he brought you to the bunker, startling Miles and Gwen. Miles instinctively pointed a gun at you, with Hobie quickly convincing him not to shoot you. The moment you began to speak, waving towards Miles and Gwen with a small smile, the other two ran to hug you, tears rolling down their cheeks. Hobie joined in with the group hug, feeling a flicker of hope ignite in his chest at the sight of your brain still being fully functional. Although you were a zombie, your mind hadn't been corrupted by the cruel virus, letting you keep your humanity. Hobie had clearly missed you for long, considering that once Miles and Gwen pulled away, bombarding you with questions, Hobie immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, pecking your cheek. He held onto you as if you were going to turn into dust any moment, too overwhelmed with emotions to quip back at Miles and Gwen's playful teasing remarks. Eventually, he felt your cold hands on his face, holding him as gently as you would when you were alive. He leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes fluttering shut as he held you close, his fingers softly rubbing circles into the skin of your hips. You lovingly peck the tip of his nose in return, leaning your forehead against his as well, just enjoying the calm bubble formed around the two of you, content to be in each other's arms again while Gwen and Miles softly giggled away like the hypocrites they are. -🐦‍⬛

Lol he yells to the sky whenever he wants a cuddle 🥺

Daily Hobie HC ❤️❤️❤️

NOOOOO PAV AND I ARE DEAD?!!!!

Oh whoops it was just a prank 😞 how cruel of you 🐦‍⬛ anon

A beloved succumbing to the zombie virus is literally one of my favourite tropes ever!! Add the bit where they come back to stagger in front of their partner AND miraculously have consciousness? I eat it up like a gourmet meal 😋

I love this sm but I cannot imagine how bad r would smell like 😬😬

We need Pavitr to come back too!!! 😭😭😭

Lmaoo "like the hypocrites they are" 🤣🤣 Hobie was third wheeling the entire time before r came back from the dead 🤣

[bruhlesbian]

ttcc headcanon time lol

prester:

im sick of overly dramatic reasons for injuries. like statistically not every facial scar or injury is gonna be like "yeah when i was six my dad put me in the industrial cement mixer-" no. for example - my brother has a cool eyebrow scar, right. oh was it from his woodworking class? or because he's a barback? no. he was like 4 and ran into a sharp table corner. this is all a lot of words to say i gave prester a split bottom lip, and its not from a fight or some other dramatic thing. he was fucking licking something off of a knife and just. whoops.

there goes his lip. right in the middle of family dinner night, fucking rude. he never got it fixed because he thought it gave him a grizzled appearance. fucking obssessed with scarring on robots for that particular reason- in most cases, it CAN be fixed. but the person who has it, doesnt want to! theres a element of choice at play, which is also true for people in real life! some amputees wear prosthetics, not because they are helpful, but to make other people more comfortable, or present a certain image. fascinating stuff, disabilities and how they are presented/represented is something i think isnt really touched on as much as it should be. fun fact i gave a speech at my college on disability rep and accessibility in gaming.

butch!craig oilcan/CEO:

im obssessed with the idea of butch!craig being a internalized homophobe/misogynist combo. god that sounds so bad but hear me out. in the lesbian community, theres a LOT of stuff to keep track of. terminology, gender identities, and most interestingly, the history and expectations behind certain identities. butch and femme, for example, are like, the lesbian identifiers that a lot of people know of/like to sling around. but like, i didnt even know that butches had/have really intricate courting rituals. beyond that, the essence of the patriarchy also plays a big role, as a lot of people kind of short-hand masc things as, oh, then you are a man equivalent and are expected to act as such. these things are starting to change, as people start to really question gender roles through their own identities. it has opened a lot of doors for people i feel like, especially me. being masc or feeling aligned with that doesnt mean you are a man, and you must live your life that way. very freeing. anyway craig is such a funny guy to me because, back to the point, i think he (like most of the other bosses - clo cpo etc etc) is obsessed with his image. how he looks to others. any shit that is a weakness has to be kept under wraps, and cannot see the light of day. so back to the butch history detour. basically butches were/are expected to pursue femme's, either from internal struggles or from lesbian or mainstream society. in my mind craig is like- fuck i gotta like femmes. like will be seen with them in clubs and shit and whatever. but like internally hes like "something is fucking wrong with me what am i DOING these women are objectively beautiful but i have ZERO attraction to them wtf"

tw for like. workplace relationship stuff or power dynamics. but like come on. craig saw jason and found out he was a butch and was like. ah ah. say no more. and immediately hired him. like ill be so real he is 100% a guy to favor a secretary as eye candy over skill. a comic is gonna come out and shoot this idea to smithereens but. whatever. anyway yeah butch!craig can only get a metaphorical boner for other butches and it EATSSSS him up. he hired jason but jason is actually competent so he has to fucking keep him. lol. and dont worry jason only took the job (in my mind) because. well. we all know the "I WANT THAT FAT BOY" image right. slay.