#but there is literally no one else that can do it. i'm all that's left. so i'll just have to find a way to take it

[verchante]

Chaand Baaliyan - LN4

cw: fluff, desi!reader, iitian reader, curse words, this is based of of me missing delhi and my frnds who are in kota rn, thinking of making this into a series smth like iitian diaries even tho i'm a commerce student 💀

lando norris was not the smartest person. it's a known fact. his girlfriend, however, was one of the smartest people he knew. she could do tough math questions within minutes! and that too without a calculator. afterall she graduated from iit-delhi, computer science branch. boosting an air of 4th (it's the red string of fate he believes).

however, she cursed alot, like alot to point even caught on her and incorporated into his vocabulary. words like bhenchod, bhen ke laude were just her regulars.

"it's because i graduated from iit delhi," she justifies. and there are instances even his fans caught him saying those words leaving the entire desi f1 community in a fenzy.

"i'm literally the best at this," lando says. he was on stream with max and his other friends. "mate shut the fuck up. we all know you're dyslexic. there's no way you're good at a maths game," max fewtrell rolls his eyes.

"no, i'm literally the best at this! i swear," he argued. "wanna check?" his girlfriend was sitting next to him, out of camera but the others didn't know that!

"you're on mate," max says at the game loaded. "79×66," lando reads out loud. "oh yeah what's the answer huh?" max asks. "let me calculate!" lando exclaimed.

"5,214," his girlfriend whispered. she was away from mic but perfectly close enough for only lando to hear her. he clicked on the correct mcq. "beginner's luck," a comment read.

as the game went on the calculations became harder than the previous one. I = ∫[0, ∞] (x^3 / (e^x - 1)) dx was one of the question, intergal calculus.

"mate you either you're googling it or you have a calculator. there's no way you can do that!" max exclaimed. "see even the chat agrees that you can't do .... intergal calculus. holy shit i didn't even know it was called intergal calculus," he said.

lando was just glad that max was buying time, it gave his girlfriend time to do the calculations. "I = π^4 / 15," lando answered, with a smug look. "bhenchod there's no way he's doing this," lando read one of the comment.

"jhand fakir behen ke laude, shut up," he replied equally agitated. and that's his girlfriend burst out laughing. the chat and max heard her laugh. "see there was someone else!" max pointed. "oh god," she mumbled between her laughs.

lando pulled her into the frame, showing off his girlfriend. "where'd you learnt that?" she asked. "from you," he shrugged, letting her sit onto his lap. "okay but i never taught you jhand fakir and all," she chuckled. "yeah what was that movie we were watching the other day? that's where i heard," he says.

"tamasha?" she asked as he just nodded, latching himself onto her. "we're practically one person at this point, it doesn't matter if she's doing the calc or i am doing it," he spoke to the chat. "don't insult her smart brain," max scoffed. "i genuinely don't know how you were doing all the tough calculations so quickly," he added.

"actually my girl went to kota to study for jee and she was taught how to do all the calculations within three minutes. you have the pick up the pen only when you're done solving in your mind. plus she scored 358/360 and an air 4 despite the advanced paper being the toughest that year," lando answered for her.

"she also taught me hindi," he bragged. "yeah and you got me in trouble for it," she rolled her eyes at him. "babe i didn't know bhenchod was a curse word. you say it often," he looked at her.

"weird indian parents logic that you can crack iit-d with air 4 and still can't curse 💀," read one of the comments. "behenchod i know right!" she agreed. "look at you! how will i not catch on these words," he says making her roll her eyes.

the game was long forgotten as the trio kept on talking to the chat. max left stream to the love brids. "di career tension, downfall and dperession ho raha hai what do i do?" she read. "bakchodi," lando asnwers. "look downfall mein bhi bakchodi nahi rukhni chaiye," he added.

making his girlfriend laugh. "it's the accent for me," she says, wiping her tears. "chup," he mimicked her. "you know you're completely desified at this point," she says. "reverse colonization," the couple laughed at his words.

the rest of the stream was filled with laughter, talks about latent and lando being more desi than his actual desi girlfriend.

[bienmoreau]

I ummed and ahhed over responding again. I'm sorry for any misunderstandings and I'm glad we got that cleared up. But I also wanted to finish my thoughts on this so it doesn't nag on me all night.

I want to clarify here that this isn't aimed at you/in response or contradiction to your post. It's just the thoughts that your reply brought up for me about this topic far more generally than just from this exchange! That said;

The 'what was it all for' is such an important line for sure!! So much of his journey is learning that the way he was taught things had to be isn't actually the case at all. And the mental recalibration that's going to require is huge.

And yeh I completely agree about him not being a sheep or wolf and learning how to not be violent & rude.

I've seen all too often and up close how this fandom (tho not uniquely) has a tendency to take characters to one extreme or another in their characterisation. It has done since 2015, I should be used to it by now. But I personally balk at the idea of that happening with Jean in any direction; violence, softness, victimhood. Any of it. None of it does his complexity justice when addressed in isolation or taken to an extreme.

And unfortunately a lot of what I've been seeing in the fandom tags seems to focus on a few cherry picked moments that people have taken and run with at the neglect of other parts that I think shed very important context or contradiction on the parts people have focused on. Even for example (and simply because it is one of the examples we discussed here) the fact that the major contributing factor in Jean swinging at Jeremy in the car wasn't anything to do with Jeremy, it was because Jean was lost in a traumatic memory about him and Kevin in the nest.

What's focused on is Jeremy touching him (and for context, not in an aggressive or invasive or even particularly surprising way it just coincided with Jean being somewhere else in his head) and the context of that moment seems to often be overlooked. Jeremy gets the blame (I'm not saying Jean should either. I don't think there IS blame here!) but I've seen a similar thing happen with other moments being discussed. People pull a single line or two out of a 3 page scene and build a moral stance off that line. It's reductive. Not only of the legitimate critical analysis of these characters and their actions/motivations but also of the thought and care and detail Nora puts into her writing! That's what my original post was about (tho I admit I worded it badly and I regret that.) the detail of that moment is what tells us what jean was actually reacting to and setting up the foreshadowing for what happens with Grayson later. The context here matters and for me at least changes how I read that interaction.

As for them 'holding on tighter' again I imagine the context of these moments is also important. I don't know which bits you're referring to specifically

But from a brief flick through the latter half of the book I found two that I think fit this description and both times it was when they were stopping him from hurting himself and holding on to make sure he was safe to be let go. Or asking him to acknowledge them so they can confirm he is safe to be left/if they can do something to help him. And the time when they see his notebooks but he isn't described resisting Jeremy's hold there, and wrenching out of that hold is descriptive of his physicality in movement not of Jeremy's restraint of him.

The one I found that I assume best fits this description is in that same scene. 'Laila moved faster than a snake to catch Jean’s wrist. How she held on when Jean flinched at her touch, Jeremy didn't know' but again the context is what's important. By this point they have all seen how Jean self harms when he slips and says something he didn't mean to. The next line after Laila's speech is literally 'In another moment he’d draw blood where his fingernails were burrowed into his cheek'.

Maybe I'm forgetting an obvious outlier of a moment where their behaviour is not explicable when in context (my reread has been sporadic and I've been distracted proof reading more recently) And absolutely I agree everyone will have their own reactions to reading behaviour like this. But personally don't fault them for not letting him self harm in front of them if that can do anything to stop it. And beyond any individual context of a scene I think it's really important for the whole fandom to remember that these characters are their own complex imperfect teens and early 20 somethings every time we see their behaviour from Jeans POV he and therefore we are missing the entire world of decisions and emotions and instincts that each of them are also working with in the face of dealing with someone who is deeply traumatised and in ways which they explicitly do not understand or know the truth of.

Back on my annotated reread of TSC and thinking abt how Jean's reaction to Laila when he hits her isn't just about being touched unexpectedly.

It's because it's his neck.

It is specifically because it's 'something warm and wet against his injured neck'.

It's because it's literally happening in the middle of a conversation in which Cat just suggested Jean meet in person with Grayson.

Like as much as people can be upset he hit her or didn't immediately apologise (also tho like. Did we read the same book? It literally has it right there that apologising is not how this kinda thing is handled in the nest. Why would Jean think to do that here??) can you really be surprised that those circumstances triggered his fight response? Like really?

[spiderb00bs]

- MURDEROUS LOVE

Tara Carpenter x (g!p) reader  (requets) MDNI

" Tara Carpenter doesn't like Gosthfaces, but what happens if you're one of them?”  

Genre – smut        Warnings – Blood, degradation, reader is literally a murderer 

Now playing – P*RNSTAR, by Nessa Barrett 

The knife you were holding was completely stained with blood, the blood of another one of your victims. The tall guy, who was now dead on his own couch, was the same jerk who had flirted with Tara a few weeks ago. Tara wasn't your girlfriend, but there was something inside you that bubbled dangerously when some idiot like that hit on the younger Carpenter.   

You didn't understand how these assholes thought they had the slightest chance with her, they were so stupid that you got angry, and that's why you decided it was better that they could never be able to breathe again.  

Wiping the blood from your knife, you breathed heavily through the mask you wore. All the chasing and screaming of that idiot had excited you, and as if it were a sign from the universe, your phone rang, Tara's name on the message handle.   

Babadook girl – I'm alone, do you want to come?  

Seeing the message, your expression perked up under the mask, an idea popping into your head. You and Tara weren't official, you weren't dating, but maybe it was your chance to tell young Carpenter who she belonged to. By quickly typing a short answer, you left your victim's house, your effort to do a perfect job leaving you without a trace. 

Meanwhile, Tara had the apartment to herself, silence hung in the corners of the room and young Carpenter was impatient, expecting you to be at her door at any moment. The television was showing some program that Tara was not very interested in watching. In fact, the girl was constantly looking in the direction of the door, as if it would make you get there faster.   

When her phone rang on the table, Tara got a little startle, curling up on the couch before finally reaching for the electronics on the coffee table. "Unknown number" was what it said on the caller ID, and for a moment, Tara felt an agonizing shiver run down her spine. Pressing the green button, Tara brought the phone to her ear, she was sure the person on the other end of the line could hear her unregulated breathing, but she couldn't care less.   

"Hello..."   

"Why did it take you so long to answer me Tara?"   

 The same voice, that same distorted and sick voice was speaking to Tara now. The same voice she has nightmares about, the same voice with someone else under the mask. Tara's hand began to tremble, and before she could even text Sam, a noise of broken glass was heard inside the apartment.   

Tara, who was in the living room, went in silent steps to the kitchen, grabbing one of the largest knives in one of the drawers, going to the corner of the wall and trying to normalize her breathing, the last thing she would want was to have an asthma attack now. Bringing the phone closer to her ear again, Tara heard a sinister laugh, making all of the younger Carpenter's senses grow two times stronger.   

"Are you coming to find me? Or do you want me to come to you, Tara?"   

"Fuck You." Looking in the direction of the hallway, Tara walked slowly to the door, trying her best not to make a sound.   

"I can do that." The laugh that the person on the other line let out made Tara nauseous, the tone that Ghostface used was sinister and suggestive at the same time. "Why are you so shy Tara? You asked me to come..."   

"I would never ask a motherfucker like you to come here!" Tara said, her breathing quickening as she tried to unlock the front door without making a sound.   

From the sound she had heard, The Ghostface could only be in one of the rooms, and the last thing she wanted was for them to hear her opening the door. As the sound of the lock clicked across the apartment, Tara turned the handle, the sense of freedom quickly replaced by horror, as all she felt was Gosthface's gloved hand squeezing her neck.   

Tara's phone was now on the floor, and when she tried to scream only grumbles came out when Ghostface put them hand over her mouth. Tara thought she had no more chance, she had ended up there.   

"Did you think you were going to leave me, you bitch?" Tara didn't know what, but something about the touch of the person underneath the mask was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. "You called me here, Tara. It's not going to be that easy."   

When the masked person threw Tara onto the couch and towered over her, all the young Carpenter did was fight, punching and kicking the masked person, who didn't seem to be affected by any of the woman's blows beneath them. But we all have a breaking point, and while none of Tara's blows hurt them, it was all becoming too much for the person under the mask.   

"STOP IT FUCKING OFF!" The Ghostface screamed, pinning Tara's hands on top of her head, not too hard to hurt her, but strong enough to scare the young Carpenter. "DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND? I DID ALL THIS FOR YOU!"   

Tara didn't know what to say, the words of the masked person on top of her didn't make sense. The sound of heavy breathing was all over the apartment, echoing over the walls. And it was only when Ghostface took off the mask, that everything clicked in Tara's head.   

"Yn?" Tara was confused, tears running down her face. Seeing her friend, the person she had confided so much with, the girl she had fallen in love with, was just devastating. "Why?"   

"Because I love you, Tara." You said, running one of your hands over the Carpenter girl's face, pulling out the wires that came out of place in the fight. "I did all this for you, baby. I killed all those guys, for you. You're mine, Tara."  

Tara didn't want to, but looking at you, on top of her, saying that you did all this for her, made her excited. You could be arrested, you could ruin your future, you put everything to waste, for her. Young Carpenter knew that what she was feeling was sick and distorted, but she couldn't help it when it came to you.   

"You didn't have to do that to have me, you could have said." Tara said, looking into your eyes, the same eyes she looked at when you were in bed together. "You killed people, Yn."   

"No, no, no." You quickly denied it, the movement of your head emphasized what you were saying. "I killed boys. Those idiots who thought they had a chance with someone as perfect as you, Tara."   

The puppy eyes you were giving Tara, made her melt, made her think you just wanted to protect her.   

"Remember that idiot, the one who called you a whore because you said you wouldn't go out with him?! I killed that son of a bitch, Tara." The woman paid attention to your every word, it was not only making her ego grow, but also the moisture between her legs. "He died with my knife in his mouth, because only I can call you things like that, Tara. You are mine."  

Stroking the woman's hair beneath you, you took a second to look at her, contrary to what you thought, Tara was no longer so scared, she seemed afraid of something, but not terrified like she was when you walked through the door.  

"Did you do everything for me?" Tara asked, her legs were trapped by your weight on top of them, but you didn't let the way she rubbed her thighs pass.   

"Why? Did you like it?" You asked, taking Tara's chin in your hand and making her look at you, with an embarrassed look. "Tell me if you liked it, Tara."   

"Yes." The words came out of young Carpenter's mouth like a groan, making you start to think that she liked it as much as you did.   

"You like it, don't you? You slut." Your grip was still firm on her cheeks, but Tara still managed to shake her head in confirmation. "You liked to know what I did to those idiots who tried to be like me, didn't you?!" Your free hand went down to the button of the pants Tara was wearing, unbuttoning and sliding in.   

 "God, yes. I only like it when it's you." Your fingers circled her clitoris, making the woman beneath you let out sighs and gasping moans.   

"You're a little whore just for me, aren't you Tara?" Your fingers slippery enough that you finally slid them inside her.   

"Fuck, yes. Please."   

"Do you want to cum, Tara?" making a back and forth with your fingers, you got close to the young Carpenter's face, kissing her forehead and watching her confirm with her head. "Use your words, slut."   

"yes, I want to cum." And as soon as the words left Tara's mouth, your fingers stopped moving.   

Taking your hand out of the brunette's pants, you pulled her by the hair, making her get up from the couch. The moan that the woman let out was soon silenced by your mouth, which pulled her into a messy kiss. The two of you teeth collided in the kiss, and Tara could feel you bite her lip hard.   

In the middle of the kiss, Tara's hands went down your black outfit, finding the zipper and lowering it. The brunette couldn't lie, but seeing you only in your bra and underwear did something to her, it was like you were walking around, killing the people who had already made her feel uncomfortable, only to come back and fuck her at the end of the day.   

"Fuck, you're so hard." Tara said, getting off your lap and kneeling in front of you.   

Her hand making up and down movements over the fabric was making you even more excited, and you couldn't believe it was really happening. The adrenaline rush of the things you'd done before and the moment you'd had with Tara had driven you crazy, wanting a piece of the Carpenter girl as soon as possible.   

"All for you, baby." You said, helping Tara take your underwear off you.   

Your cock jumped, landing on your abs, pre-cum was leaking from your pink tip and for a moment Tara was hypnotized.   

"Do you love me, baby?" Starting the movements again, she looked at you with those big eyes that you knew very well.   

"More than anything." Throwing your head back, you answered Tara's question, moaning as the woman on her knees gave a kiss to the pink head of your cock.   

"Do you want to date me?" Tara asked, giving an experimental lick from the base to the head.   

"Fuck, yes." Seeing you with your eyes closed and your head thrown back, Tara dug her nails into your thighs, making you moan in pain and look at her immediately.   

"Then ask." What was she doing? She wasn't in charge, you were.  

 "What the fuck are you doing, you slut-" You tried to say, being cut as Tara dragged her nails across your skin, drops of blood forming in the tracks she had left.   

"FUCK, YOU BITCH!"   

"ASK, IF YOU DID ALL THAT FOR ME THEN PROVE IT!"   

"FUCK! OKAY!" 

Stopping the screaming for a second, Tara waited for you to say what she wanted to hear, and although she was afraid of what you could do to her because she said, deep down she knew you would never hurt her, you needed her.   

"Tara, do you want to be my girlfriend?" You asked, making the brunette smile at you, not even answering you before putting part of your cock inside her mouth.   

"Fuck!" To your surprise, you threw your head back again, then straightened up and tilted your head so that you could see all the work Tara was doing on you. "You're mine, only mine."  

Your hand, which was now lovingly positioned on Tara's head, followed the woman's movements, Tara's mouth was hot, and all that stimulation was driving you crazy. The speed with which Tara's mouth worked on you and her hands jerking off what she couldn't put in her mouth, became too much for you.   

"Tara, I'm going to cum."   

Letting your cock slide out of her mouth, Tara stood up, moving away from you and making the knot in your stomach shrink considerably. With a tearful groan, you looked at Carpenter in front of you, who was unbuttoning her pants and sliding her panties down her heels.   

"Sam will be coming soon, we don't have much time." Settling into your lap, Tara guided your cock to her pussy, your bodies fitting as if you were made for it.   

When you finally entered the woman, the moans that came out of the two of you echoed through the apartment. At this point, Tara wouldn't even mind receiving a complaint about the noise, she just wanted you. Being inside Tara was paradise, and you never wanted to leave. Her walls embraced you with love and the sensation you felt made your eyes roll.   

"Fuck, you're so tight, baby." You said, Tara moving her hands from your neck to your hair, messing it up as she pulled your head in, making you look at her.   

"Is that what you wanted?" Tara asked, innocent eyes staring back at you. "Did you want me to be yours?!"   

"Yes, only mine. None of those guys can touch you, because you're my slut." Spreading your hands on Tara's ass, you started to push inside her, making the woman on top of you let out moans of pleasure.   

Even though she liked all the words you called her, and liked to see you being so dominant and powerful in your Ghostface outfit, Tara knew exactly how to control you, 

make you think you'd always be in control of your relationship, when in fact, the younger Carpenter had you in the palm of her hand.   

"I love you, baby. None of those guys will ever have you." You said, putting your hand on the brunette's neck and accelerating the pace of your thrusts.  

"I'm yours, baby. Completely yours, no one else's."   

Your impulses were fast, making Tara's moans get louder and louder, and you knew that meant she was about to cum. Placing your hand just below her abs, you applied pressure, causing Tara to scream louder than you thought she could. With your other hand, you drew circles on her clit, driving the woman beneath you crazy.   

Rolling her eyes, Tara felt like she was in heaven, you hitting her non-stop, the pressure you made on her and your fingers working from her clitoris, were too much. Tara's body twitched, spasms coming out involuntarily, and you knew she was cumming when you felt the woman's insides tighten around you.   

Without stopping your movements, you continued chasing your orgasm, while prolonging Tara's. Your eyes rolled back just like the woman below you, you let out a grunt accompanied by Tara's moan, who now contemplated the sensation of your warm seed pouring inside her.   

Lying on the couch next to the smaller woman, you kissed Tara passionately, just a confirmation that everything was fine.   

"That was amazing." Tara said looking at you. Her hand caressed your hair, trying to comb it back into place.   

"I love you, Tara. And I don't regret anything." You said, watching Tara's eyes falter a little. 

"After we talked about it, we'll enjoy it while Sam wasn't here yet."  

She didn't know how to make you stop, but she would have to find a way without you getting hurt. 

Hi guys, the first request for this account has just been made.

Thank you to anon who placed the request <3

Stay safe, drink water

xoxo, spider.

[kteezy997]

Beyond Business- part eight// t.c.

Warnings: cursing, kissing, mention of sex, secret relationship,fake relationship

In the hours that followed, Timmy and his three friends hung out in the living room area. His hairstylist came, publicists and managers showed up. It became quite crowded and loud. Much to the contrast of the way it was when it was just the two of you.

Kylie nor any of her entourage came, not that you expected her. She usually just showed up to the venue without him, waiting inside while he walked the red carpet. People thought that was honorable of her, to not take his spotlight. But the truth was that it was the way Timmy wanted it. He never was one to walk the carpet with a girlfriend, ever.

He never intended for his personal life to be so mainstream, sometimes overwhelming his career accomplishments. But he soon realized that it came with the territory in Hollywood. He didn’t wish to exploit himself even more with Kylie Jenner on his arm, posing for photos when all he wanted was to promote the film he had dedicated so much of himself to.

You kept up with your assistant duties, ordering lunch for everyone, getting drinks, and catering to Timmy when he needed.

It was getting close to time to leave, so you approached him. He looked dapper in his Tom Ford suit and blue tie, worn more like a scarf.

“Timmy, can I do anything else before I go get ready?” you asked.

He pursed his bottom lip, shaking his head, “No, I don’t think so. Remember what I said about your hair, though.” he winked.

You rolled your eyes playfully. Then his phone started buzzing, you looked at the screen in his hand. Kylie was calling, he gave you a look that you couldn’t quite decipher before walking away with it. You saw him put the device to his ear, answering with a simple “hello.”

You resigned to Timmy’s large bathroom to get ready for the Globes. You put on some burgundy and black eye makeup to go with your dress, and a neutral-colored lipstick. You curled your lashes, brushing them high to the heavens with your best mascara.

You gave yourself a blowout, making sure your hair was as fluffy and flowy as you could manage. Then, it was time for the lovely dress. You felt so grateful Timmy picked it out for you. You wondered if he ever had a say in anything Kylie wore to events. Probably not.

You put your everyday rings and necklace on, along with a couple spritzes of your favorite perfume and you were officially ready.

You opened the door, walking out to find your heels that you left in the living room.

“Ayyyyeee!” you heard Timmy hollering when he saw you. “Aiden, get some photos of her.” he instructed his photographer friend.

“Damn, y/n, you look hot!” Aiden exclaimed, “Now, come pose for me.”

“Oh, no, no that’s okay. I don’t really like pictures of myself.” you attempted to object, but to no avail. You put your high heels on.

"Over here," Timmy instructed pointing near the window in the living room, where he wanted you, "where the light's coming in."

You had never posed for photos alone before, and the boys could tell, so they were very helpful and encouraging. It was kind of fun, and you noticed the smirk on Timmy's face as he kept scanning his eyes up and down at you.

.........

Later, on the way to the Globes, Timmy instructed his friends to ride in a separate car, as you and he needed to "go over some things."

Once you were alone together in the car, he grabbed your face, and started to devour your neck, suctioning his lips there. He moaned against your skin as he held your jaw.

You placed your hand on his arm, giving it a squeeze, "You're insane. You are literally on the way to see your girlfriend."

"You don't have to call her that. And I am nominated, you know. That is why I'm going, it's not to see her." he gazed at you, shaking his head slowly. "Fuck, you look amazing." He leaned in, kissing you on the lips this time.

His lips were soft, but the feeling of them was overshadowed by the tickling of his mustache on your top lip. The sensation made you feel like you could almost sneeze, so you pulled away with a giggle.

Timmy grinned at you, "What?"

"The 'stache." you explained, running your finger over the whisper of hair on his upper lip.

He blinked, realizing, "Oh." Nonetheless, he kissed you again, laying his hand on your thigh. "Mm," he pulled away, "will you stay over at my place tonight?"

"Are you sure? Will she find out?"

"Yes, I'm sure, and no, it's none of her business anyway." he brushed the subject off, as usual.

"So, you don't ever sleep with her?" you cringed at the thought.

"No," he rolled his eyes, "I haven't in months."

You felt relieved knowing that there wasn't a chance of him overlapping you and her. You hoped he hadn't recently been sleeping any woman for that matter. "She's not suspicious about you and other women? Does she know about us?"

"She doesn't ever say anything. And besides, I don't care what she does; she can go screw her baby daddy, or her bestie Stassi, or whoever she wants to. I really don't give a shit, so it's none of her business what I do."

"Do you think that's fair to her?"

"Why are you so concerned about her?" he put his arm around you, "She and I just keep up an image, that's all."

You shrugged, "I don't know. I mean, I don't care for the way her family flaunts their money or the impossible and dangerous beauty standards that they set. Not to mention that she has copied clothing designs from smaller businesses, but at the end of the day, Kylie is just a girl, the same as me, you know? She doesn't deserve to be hurt any more than the next person."

Timmy nodded, "Yeah, but it is no more serious to her than it is to me. So, stop worrying." he pressed his forehead to yours.

"Okay." you whispered, unable to stop the smile that crept on your lips. You felt butterflies in your stomach when he touched your forehead.

The car came to a stop, and you could hear people yelling and cameras snapping outside. The driver got out, and Timmy said, "Alright, assistant, time for the show."

…….

You weren’t nervous on the red carpet, because it wasn’t about you. All eyes were on him. Fans shouting, cameras flashing, famous actors, directors, producers, all making a point to get Timmy’s attention and talk to him.

This part of your job was always a bit of a whirlwind, but you always enjoyed the rush. You would follow a few paces behind him, he would hand you sweet little gifts given to him from fans that you would always take to the car to keep them safe. You would look through them all together later.

You made sure to get pictures of him with fans and some celebrities, to send to his mother. She always loved seeing them. Some photos would just be keepsakes for Timmy as well. He trusted you with that sort of thing.

After about an hour of red-carpet photos and happy conversations, you knew it was time for Timmy to head inside. He had previously handed his phone over to you, and you noticed that Kylie had texted him several times. You didn’t want to bug him as he was doing his own thing, but you knew that the woman was restless. So, you showed him his phone with all of the notifications, and he sighed.

“Okay, let’s go. I’ll take you to your table.” he leaned in close to your ear, “I’ll have to kiss her tonight. But don’t be upset. We just have to sell it.” he whispered.

You knew how the machine worked, and you understood. “It’s okay.” you said to him.

He grabbed your hand, innocently leading you through the sea of people to get inside the venue.

January 24, 2025

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie @briefkittenearthquake @imnotoverlyobsessive @timhalchala

[ilikekidsshows]

Chameleon is such a Marinette salt episode, I thought yall were joking but it actually is O.o

Marinette gets upset that her being late means she has to sit alone in the back, but is perfectly content with asking Bustier to just force someone else to be placed there instead as long as it isn't her.

She's ableist as hell with no proof and goes about everything the worst way. Her friends are being blamed for not liking that Marinette constantly goes around harassing the new girl.

She doesn't actually tell anyone about Lila's lies, she only says she eavesdropped on her and Adrien after she followed them, and then never tries again to say something truly convincing because Alya and Nino pushed back on her

She uses her Ladybug knowledge against Lila to the point where even Lila was confused what the hell Marinette was ON about. And between Lila and her, it was MARINETTE who cornered the former first in the bathroom, but I guess I'm supposed to see Marinette as the poor little victim because Lila ended up being better at cornering her back? Girl, that's not how it works. You still cornered first!

That's like attacking a person and then crying and pouting about getting hurt when said person turned out to be stronger than you. Girl, you're intention was to be the one doing the hurting, that's a BALLSY thing to then act like you were an innocent little daisy over who was "totally attacked out of nowhere". I get what they were trying to do, but they can't just ignore Marinette's own actions. At least have her stand to what she did instead of having her cry and act like she did nothing wrong and had no agency in what happened.

Then later in the akuma fight, she just leaves an unconscious Chat Noir behind (who saved her ass), putting his safety and life on the line for the mere assumption that the akuma only cares about her even though she had no reason to assume so. Or that Hawkmoth wouldn't demand that the akuma gets Chat's Miraculous first.

Like, she saw Chat Noir unconscious and just turned around and left. How caring of her ♡

And then, of course, her being written to be quite giddy to have the civilian break Lila as a clam even though that literally kills them. I wouldn't call that out if the episode didn't had Adrien stand besides her with a disturbed face. Back in the days, I wrote this off as Marinette not knowing that this kills clams, but knowing the writers now, nah, Marinette knew.

---

It’s really ironic how the episode where Marinette is only the hero by technicality got the fandom frothing at the mouth to punish everybody else involved. And the more I look at the early Lila episodes, the more I see how the writers just utterly messed up their point. Like, I get the basic concept behind these episodes, but the execution makes you question what the actual plan was.

Like, there’s this basic plot in kids’ cartoons where a new girl character is introduced and the main girl is instantly suspicious of them, but also jealous of their popularity/skills. This blurs the line of if they’re wrong about the new girl or not until the action scene of the episode reveals to the characters either that the girl was good all along but only visiting and they part as friends, or that the girl was evil all along and the main girl’s suspicions were right.

Miraculous is trying to do the latter plot with Lila, but they forgot to include the part where the characters learn the suspicions were correct, mostly because they intended to use Lila repeatedly for that same plot. They also forgot that the characters don't know what the audience does. Not even Marinette knows how bad Lila can be, but the narrative that she’s right relies on her knowing this.

Let’s look at this. Because Marinette doesn’t know that Lila got willingly Akumatized to get back at her, her insistence that Lila is a dangerous, evil person is based on:

She lied about knowing Ladybug (and possibly other celebrities, Marinette didn’t check)

She stole a book to figure out how to hit on Adrien and hid the evidence

She talked very mild shit about the local celebrity

She might be lying about being disabled (Marinette just decided she was lying, she didn’t check)

She threatened Marinette back when Marinette cornered to threaten her in the bathroom

Only two things on this list are something that would make you sceptical of any other person’s morality on the level we're meant to be sceptical of Lila. We’re just predisposed to think badly of Lila because we know she got willingly Akumatized. Lying to get popular is not evil or even bad. It’s weird. Similarly, talking down the accomplishments of a “love rival” is more weird than actually morally questionable. Also, like, maybe Lila was just thinking about how The Owl was doing more to help the community outside of Akuma battles than Ladybug. Her shit-talking isn’t completely inaccurate is what I’m saying. As for the "faking a disability" bit, I'm much faster to side-eye a person whose first reaction to hearing about someone else being disabled is to insist it's faked and try to "out" them. Furthermore, sprained wrists and tinnitus happen constantly and don't even count as the kinds of disabilities that would require a doctor's note.

So, to sum up, Marinette felt that Lila was so evil that she reveled in (temporarily) killing her in ‘Chameleon’, because Lila stole a book and didn’t let Marinette walk all over her.

[leliwardens]

ah...thank you kindly for sharing all of this.

@exhausted-archivist hi this is its own post now

what do you mean cut rescue mission.

[ryoko-loves-roses]

Ddakji or Tickles?

The Recruiter + Gi-Hun

A/N: ...literally why do i make fanfics over 2k words? ANYWAY - this was extremely fun.. and again.. i hope you all like it. I'm so sorry if its not up to par! Thank you for the suggestion :) and by the way.. I call him "The Salesman" in the fanfic because in this one episode he goes by that I suppose lol. His evilness isn't noticed yet!! anyway - ENJOY! :) Summary : A broke and depressed Gi-Hun is found alone in the subway station by a neat man in a black suit... who wants him to play a game. What could go wrong?

═════════════════════════════════════════ Seong Gi-Hun was the definition of poor. The man was practically hanging by a thread - He had just bet all the money he had left on a stupid horse race… the man hit rock bottom over, and over, and over again. His wife left him a few years ago, taking his daughter with her. He was even living with his mother. I could go on and on about how fucked Gi-Hun is, but that would take me all day. Gi-Hun sat on one of the many benches in the subway station, sighing lowly to himself. If he didn’t find out what to do about the money soon, he’d be hunted by loan sharks… again. They already broke his nose, and Gi-Hun didn’t want to wait around to find out what else they would break next. A somewhat good-looking and neat man with a nice black suit, and a suitcase in hand took a seat next to Gi-Hun, which the man only glanced towards the neat salesman for a brief moment, then looking away. The salesman on the other hand, looked towards Gi-Hun. “Hello, Sir.” He suddenly spoke, “Can I talk to you?” Gi-Hun glanced up then down, eyeing the salesman closely. He didn’t look like any threat -. “I don’t believe in god.” He replied, before scooting away with an uninterested expression. Who was this guy? And why the hell did he come up to Gi-Hun of all people? The most ho-bo looking guy in the station? “It’s not that.” The neat-looking man replied. “Listen, I want to give you a great opportunity to-” The Salesman was cut off as Gi-Hun pulled what seemed to be a gun out of his pocket, suddenly pointing it directly at the other, which The Salesman immediately raised up his hands, a shocked expression on his face.

A few deafening seconds passed, then Gi-Hun pulled the trigger, making the front part of the gun set alight, revealing it was only a stupid lighter. “I come from a buddhist family so find another guy to preach to.” Gi-Hun retorted, putting away the lighter with the same uninterested but yet tired look on his face. The Salesman managed to relax a little, lowering his hands, and putting them on his knees. “Mister, would you like to play a game with me?” Gi-Hun could only sigh, extremely agitated that this complete stranger wasn’t leaving him alone. He looked down for a moment, then decided to look at The Salesman again. “Who are you?” Gi-Hun asked with a tint of irritation. “Salesman, huh.” Of course - another stupid tactic to sell another stupid item. “You people have all kinds of tactics..” He said aloud, as The Salesman began to open his suitcase, rotating it towards Gi-Hun in silence. “Look, I know you’re only doing your job but I really don’t have time to-” He paused - In this very suitcase was a stack of Ddakji tiles - Blue and Red, but also … there were also three stacks of money. What.. the hell? What is this? Some kind of scam? Some kind of trick to make Gi-Hun guilty that he spent his last dime not even an hour ago? “I’m sure you’ve played ddakji before, right?” The Salesman said, picking up two Ddakji tiles, holding them in his hands, and looking up at the man in front of him. Gi-Hun didn’t know what to think, so he could only stare. He looked at the tiles in The Salesman’s hand, then back at The Salesman - “Play a few rounds of Ddakji with me, and each time you win.. I’ll pay you 100,000 won.” Gi-Hun stared - his breath faltering. “Wait.. - So if I hit your Ddakji, and it flips over.. I’ll get 100,000 won..?” The man asked in an almost unsure tone, not knowing if this was some kind of hoax or scam-deal. “And if I hit yours, you’ll give me the same exact amount of money.” The Salesman stated, a subtle smile on his face. Gi-Hun needed that, and he knew damn well that he didn’t have that kind of money… but what if he won first..? So many questions were going through his head, but he was snapped out of it when The Salesman began to speak again, leaning forward. “you can also be the first to play.” GI-Hun’s face in the moment was laughable - The man stared for a few more seconds - he knew he needed the money… but he swore if this was a scam… “Listen.. I have had a terrible day… so if this is a scam of some sort, - I will kill you.” It was an empty threat, but Gi-Hun would still be beyond pissed. The Salesman’s smile widened as he nodded.

”which color do you want to play as?” and this is where it all began

With a Ddakji tile in hand, Gi-Hun, rubbed it against his once-sweaty palms, before taking a deep breath, and with a great amount of force, he slammed the Ddakji into the other one, silently hoping that he won somehow - But of course, the red Ddakji didn’t flip over, meaning that if The Salesman manages to flip over Gi-Hun’s Ddajki, that means he wins.

With a defeated look, he glanced back up at The Salesman, who only smiled at him, motioning for him to step aside as he now had his red Ddakji in hand.

With one hard throw, The Salesman easily flipped the blue Ddakji, which made Gi-Hun's face drop.

Gi-Hun then looked up at The Salesman, now a bit anxious -

“Oh.. uh.. well, - here's the thing…”

The Salesman didn't even need to hear the rest of the sentence to understand that Gi-Hun didn't have the cash for that, and only smiled.

“You are able to pay with your body.” 

As The Salesman said that, Gi-Hun raised an eyebrow, wondering if he heard him incorrectly.

“My what?” As the man questioned the latter, The Salesman suddenly raised a hand - Gi-Hun flinched expecting a slap of some-sort, but no… the neat man grabbed his wrist for some reason?? - and before Gi-Hun could say anything else, he forcefully raised Gi-Hun's arm with his left hand, the man's grip unwithering.

”W-what the hell are you doing, assho-?!”

The Salesman cut Gi-Hun off by suddenly plunging all five fingers of his free hand into Gi-Hun's exposed side, which much to the man's embarrassment, made him shriek like a toddler. The Salesman's smile widened to a very noticeable extent.

“I never would've guessed your laughter could sound so… childish given by your appearance.”

Gi-Hun tried to squirm away, but The Salesman had an extremely good grip on his wrist - how the hell could someone so… polished be so strong???

Although, after a few seconds of Gi-Hun laughing like a toddler, The Salesman released him, which made him fall to the floor… much to his dismay.

“Shall we play again?” The Salesman asked, that same damn smile on his face, and Gi-Hun could swear it carried a hint of mischievousness.

“w-whyhy - thehe hell did you decide to use that..”

Gi-Hun questioned, letting out a few giggles as he managed to stand up.

“It may be unconventional, but it's a good payment… unless… you have 100,000 won?” The Salesman asked with a smile, which made Gi-Hun sigh.

“No… I dont…” He responded, a bit embarrassed that he was a grown man, and being tickled like a child… which he didn't want to admit but it was very effective…

The Salesman let out a low chuckle, the first reaction that wasn't an ‘innocent-looking’ smile.

“Well then.. Don't complain.”  Gi-Hun's eyes narrowed, and he rolled up his sleeves, determined that The Salesman would not win - but once he threw his Ddakji as hard as he could, the red Ddakji still didn't flip. He groaned internally as The Salesman took the stand… With a confident smile, The Salesman threw his Ddakji again, successfully flipping Gi-Hun’s Ddakji over. This time… he had a look of pure mischievousness, but Gi-Hun noticed too late - The Salesman quickly shot his hands out, suddenly digging all ten digits into Gi-Hun’s sides, which made the man immediately squeal, trying to get away by falling to the floor, but The Salesman’s well-mannered hands followed. ”Thihihis ihihihis embahahaharrasihihinhhig!” Gi-Hun laughed out, but The Salesman only shrugged. “Win, then. Besides… the subway is empty if that’s what you’re concerned about…” He then smirked. “Losing your reputation that didn’t exist to begin with.” As the man’s smirk turned cruel, the tickling of his brutal fingers went faster. Gi-Hun frantically tried to grip onto The Salesman’s wrists, but he was too fast… and too merciless. ”Ihihihill wihihihin!! Ihihihi swehehear! P - PLeHEHeheEase!! FUuhuhuck-!”

How hysterical. The once depressed man was squealing his head off? Despite being middle-aged, The Salesman had to agree with the fact that this was pretty adorable. With a low chuckle, The Salesman retracted his hands, picking up his Ddakji again. “Another round?” He asked, the smirk never leaving his face. Gi-Hun stood up, sniffling and wiping a ticklish tear from his face before replying. “of course…” …Like last time and the time before that, Gi-Hun lost… again. His eyes widened.  - “Shit.” He wanted to make a break for it, but by that point, The Salesman already got a hold of him, suddenly drilling his thumbs DEEP into Gi-Hun’s armpits.. To say the man screamed would be an understatement. It was a miracle no law enforcement came yet… since it sounded like a girl was getting brutally murdered. The Salesman couldn’t help but chuckle. ”How humiliating this must be for you, Mr. Seong Gi-Hun.” Gi-Hun didn’t even have the words to ask how this stranger knew his name - He could only laugh, cackle, and stomp his feet before literally falling to the floor to get away like last time… it looked like its one of his ticklish reflexes.

As Gi-Hun begged, The Salesman hummed with satisfaction, now kneeling by the flailing man. “You are honestly.. extremely pathetic.” The taunting and teasing only made the tickling worse. Just for the sadistic fun of it, The Salesman decided to shove his hands right underneath Gi-Hun’s shirt, managing to drill his fingers into the man’s ribs… oh fucking hell. Gi-Hun’s eyes widened, and his mouth became agape as cackles began to pour out shamelessly. He screeched, squealed, and squirmed for what seemed to be an eternity, until The Salesman decided to stop again, retracting his hands, and standing up. Gi-Hun was left breathless on the ground, a few giggles escaping every now and then. After a few seconds, The Salesman nudged Gi-Hun with his foot. “One last round… because I’m sure you don’t wanna know where I’m gonna aim next, hm?” Gi-Hun managed to collect himself enough to stand up. ”F - Fine… one more…” As much as he wanted the money, getting tickled until you couldn’t breathe was just too much. Gi-Hun let out a low sigh, picking up his Ddakji, and taking another breath. ”come on, Gi-Hun… come on… you can do this…” He thought to himself, before finally.. throwing the Ddakji as HARD as he could. Like clockwork, The blue Ddakji hit the red one, and finally, it flipped over! Gi-Hun was ecstatic, celebrating his victory (and the fact he didn’t have to get tickled anymore -) “Hell yes!” The Salesman clapped, still a bit amused by the events that played out before this, but nonetheless -

He immediately saw Gi-Hun’s hands shoot towards him, which he caught with grace. “Hey-! What are you doing, you jerk-!” *Before he could say any more, The Salesman put the 100,000 won in one of Gi-Hun’s open palms. “Congratulations.” The Salesman spoke. Of course… the money. That’s what Gi-Hun was doing this for anyway - “Oh… Right.” Gi-Hun replied, retracting his hands and holding the money in his hand. The Salesman then reached into his pocket, pulling out a little tan card with three shapes on it: A square, a triangle, and a circle. “If you want to earn more, just call this number on the back.” He explained with the smile he’s been wearing this entire interaction, before handing the card to a confused Gi-Hun, then wondering off with his suitcase. Gi-Hun looked at the card briefly, seeing how there was a certain phone number on the back. ”More money..?” He thought to himself, then let out a sigh. - ”..what am I getting myself into..?”

[rustedleopard]

I feel like if Chujin was still alive during the events of Undertale Yellow, his and Clover's relationship would be incredibly rocky. Pacifist!Clover could bring him around to tolerating them (after all, they have that sort of effect on everyone), but it would be more in a "this human is the only 'good' human" manner than a "maybe I should reevaluate my opinions on humans overall because you can't judge an entire group based off (very biased) stories and one bad experience." Even then, that opinion would be subject to change should Clover ever get frustrated or behave "too aggressively" or act in any manner that isn't perfectly docile. If Clover ends up attacking a monster then it's "humans are just as horrible as they were in the war stories, I should've known better" regardless of the circumstances that could've pushed Clover to fight. Suffocating expectations and endless demands for patience when he wouldn't ask the same of a fellow monster.

And heaven forbid he ever meet Clover on a No Mercy Run...

[microwavetoaster-selfships]

Live streams are so weird. Like what do you mean I'm watching someone do that literally right now. This person is playing a game right now and talking. And these ones are racing at literal breakneck speed and these ones are just some states away from me occasionally if not in my state and these other ones are doing 24 hour endurance races and these people are talking about the weather like what. What do you mean I am getting an uncut view of this thing. This thing is happening actively at this moment simultaneously as to whatever I am doing right now.

[waynes-multiverse]

Oh no! Migraine's suck. I get them all the damn time, too 🙄 Hopefully, the migraine's better now ❤️‍🩹 (and this chapter didn't make it worse lol)

Literally me reading your comments on this part 😂 You were so spot on with most of them!!! Sherlock Holmes is getting some competition lol

And yeah, Diane's really playing a sick game here and tormenting Beau to no end 😖 But I had a fun time creating her character, though. I watch way too many crime shows and really wanted that "big bad." Definitely no redemption arc for Diane, though 😅

Good ol' Poppernak. He's a loyal one!

He surely is. Such a sweetheart 🥰 There was not enough Popcorn in this story 😭 (or Donno lmao)

Thank goodness for Beau and his random facts, and that she remembered it!!

I loved weaving that in as one of Beau's rambling trivia facts lol I thought that said so much about their relationship too!

Ah, she took a screwdriver… that gives me a little more hope (probably misguided, lol) when Turner appeared in front of her in the woods.

I honestly loved writing that tense push-and-pull between her and Turner. But I'm glad she won in the end and used that screwdriver wisely 😅

Is that because he thinks they're not going to find her in time or because he's beginning to realise that he is going to lose her to Beau after all.

The latter. That whole conversation with Beau made him realize she's not only happy with him, but he can also give her everything she wants 🤍

I really enjoyed that scene in the car between Beau and Randy. Felt like an honest conversation between them where they both learned a few truths about each other's relationships with her.

Yes 💯 Really felt like they needed to have a conversation about it, although I knew getting them fully back to best friends would've been a bit of reach, so I left it rather open-ended on that part. And Beau certainly knows he has to sacrifice his friendship with Randy for the reader. But even if she still chooses no one, I don't think they could've ever fully gone back to being buddies 😅

I have to say I was surprised to hear what had happened between her and Randy.

Yep, kept that a secret till the end on purpose 😉 It was supposed to show that some things always look perfect from the outside looking in. Beau kind of idolized their relationship and marriage and thought they were "the perfect couple." That revelation definitely gave him some perspective on his own relationship with her

I have so many questions. How did she do that???? She's locked up, isn't she? Did Diane have this all planned and set a timer to send the link? Did Hal set it up before he stumbled out in front of them? Or is something else going on?!

In my head it was an automated email that was sent when the bunker door closed 😂🤷‍♀️

But otherwise, no more surprises (kinda 😅)

Thank you so much for that wonderful reblog, hun!!! 😍🤍🤍🤍

Polaris – Chapter 12

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

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, a heavy dose of angst, kidnapping, violence, injuries, serial killers, death, an awful cliffhanger

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: Happy New Year, everyone! 🥳 We jump straight into 2025 with an angsty banger 👀

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 12: Through

On one of the sunniest mornings Helena had seen in recent days, the peaceful quiet of the early risers in the Sheriff’s Department was disturbed by one restless sheriff.

Beau was taking his office apart – bit by bit, nail by nail, panel by panel, brick by brick.

The search for you had gone on all night and yielded zero results. You were nowhere to be found. For all Beau knew, you could be dead by now and buried in the vast woods of Montana.

A computer mouse flung against the wall and only missed Jenny’s head by an inch as the blonde peeked inside his office. The rest of the station had selected her to talk to the big boss, his outbursts even being heard from miles away.

“You okay?” Jenny checked carefully.

“I’m tryna find that stupid camera!”

“Thought you already found that hours ago,” Jenny noted with a raised brow.

“Can’t be too careful…” the sheriff murmured, his focus landing on the pile of pens on his desk. The silver one – had that always been there? He picked it up. “Does this look normal to you?”

Jenny only offered a shrug.

“Never mind,” Beau muttered and reduced the pen down to its individual parts. Nothing. Just a plain, old pen.

“Did you get some sleep?”

“What d’you think?”

At five in the morning, Beau had promised Jenny he’d snooze for half an hour on the couch in his office. He did lie down, stared at the suspended ceiling tiles for about a minute, and then remembered the damn camera.

It wasn’t just about what he had done in there but also about he’d said. No wonder Diane had gotten so easily under his skin. She probably had heard every insecurity he had ever uttered. To you. And to imaginary Randy.

How was he supposed to sleep in a place where he felt exploited, exposed, and unsafe?

“Well, uh, I just wanted to tell you that Randy went into Interrogation Room 2 with Diane…”

“WHAT?!”

“Yeah…” Jenny exhaled a deep sigh and leaned against the door frame. “He said you’d deputized him and authorized it, but I had a feeling that wasn’t true.”

Beau ran a hand across his face, rubbing his beard.

Rule #3: She’s my wife. I get to decide how we proceed.

Rule #4: You’re not the boss of me.

“Well, I did deputize him,” Beau admitted. He had given his former partner a long leash, not expecting he’d bolt through the backyard.

“Beau…” Jenny clearly didn’t approve.

“He left me no choice, alright?!”

Well, no choice his guilt could deal with.

The sheriff then left his destroyed office and thundered into Interrogation Room 2 down the hall. Randy wouldn’t get to do this alone. Beau knew there was an ulterior motive – if only Randy saved you, he could also miraculously save his marriage. Randy was a persistent motherfucker. He wouldn’t give up.

And if the roles were reversed, Beau wouldn’t either. He’d probably be even more annoyingly persistent than Randy.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Beau charged in with steam coming out of his ears. For a moment, his anger was so focused on his friend, he didn’t even notice the rising smile on Diane’s lips.

“Good morning, Sheriff Arlen.” Even if Diane’s voice sounded melodious, to Beau it was still chalk on board. “Remodeling the office, are we?”

“You mind?” Randy prompted stand-offishly, glancing up at the sheriff. “Kinda in the middle of something here.”

“Outside. Now,” was all Beau said.

Defiantly and miffed by the authoritative tone, Randy followed him to the hall.

“Play nice, boys!” Diane’s voice echoed through before the door fell into its lock.

“What d’you think you’re doing? You can’t just talk to our prime suspect without my presence!” Beau roared.

Randy rolled his eyes back. “Didn’t know I needed a babysitter…”

“This isn’t a game, Randy! We need to find Y/N before it’s too late,” Beau argued furiously. They didn’t have time for petty competitions.

“Yeah, which is why I’m talking to the only lead we have! That bitch knows where she is,” Randy countered with an equal amount of fury.

“She’s not gonna tell you!”

Randy only shrugged – cocky in nature and completely unlike him. And Beau then realized something that had changed: His friend wouldn’t back down anymore and bend. Those days were over, and it was probably Beau’s own fault.

“We’ll see,” Randy said stubbornly, his hand wandering back to the door handle. “You comin’?”

Beau inhaled and exhaled a deep breath before nodding – and back into the lion’s den they went.

Diane welcomed them with a sneer. “All made up?”

“Tell us where Turner took her,” Randy demanded with a stern expression and firm voice.

If Randy wanted to play bad cop, the role of good cop fell to Beau by default. And although they had never ever played it that way before, Beau figured Randy carried more anger than even him right now. He might as well let him make good use of it.

“Can’t.” Diane twitched her shoulders. “Hal doesn’t tell me.”

“Oh, and we’re just supposed to believe that?” Beau lifted a brow in mock. “C’mon, Diane…”

“It’s true,” she said, smiling. “Call it an insurance policy in case one of you Neanderthals decides to go rogue on me – looking at you specifically, Sheriff Arlen. If you leave your own partner to die in a filthy warehouse, I don’t wanna know what you do to your enemies.” She then looked at Randy, whispering behind her palm, “You know, I think he did it on purpose.”

Beau clicked his tongue and snorted humorlessly. “Alright, Diane, you’ve had your fun. You’ve wreaked havoc… You’ve won, okay? Fair and square. Just give up your partner, tell us where Y/N is, and end this once and for all. Might even get a better deal if you do. Think about it. Murdering an FBI agent doesn’t look good in front of a judge and jury. We have iron-clad proof you killed at least five people in Texas. Capital murder, death penalty… See where I’m going with this?”

“Oh, I’ve thought about it, Sheriff. And I’ve told you: I don’t know where she is now,” Diane reiterated with the same infuriating smile. Her gray eyes then wandered to a wall clock behind the men. “At least not yet.”

Randy and Beau both followed her gaze and stared at that same clock. Their eyes widened.

“Then when?” Randy prompted.

“Don’t worry. You’ll see her soon.” Diane smirked. “If she makes it out alive, she can tell you in person she’s choosing the rugged sheriff here over you, Detective Nichols.”

Randy’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching and unclenching under the metal table.

“I gave her a fighting chance.”

“Oh, you mean like the others?” Beau had known from the start that it would be useless talking to her.

“They all could’ve gotten out,” said Diane as if she blamed the victims for not being smarter and more durable. “‘Sides, why would I give up my favorite part? I’ve waited a while for this one. Killing her? While you two idiots watch helplessly and throw feces at each other like monkeys in a zoo? Gotta say, it’s better than killing twenty-four people combined. Ever since I met Deputy Popcorn, I’ve been actually craving a snack.” Upon Beau’s facial twitch, Diane leaned closer and whispered with a smirk, “Yeah, I know about the cute little nicknames for your deputies too, Sheriff. I wonder how many bugs you’ve found yet in your office. Sure it can’t be all of them. Maybe I’ve bugged the whole station. Who’s to say? Have you checked your trailer yet? The lovely agent’s motel room? No?”

Beau couldn’t pinpoint the exact feeling that clutched his heart and twisted it like a boa constrictor. Pain, fear, anger, sadness – a deadly cocktail for anyone. Was this throbbing sting in his chest what a heart attack felt like? Only recently, he’d read an article in the paper about a guy his age who just dropped dead. Was this it for him?

Would it mean he'd get to see you again, though?

“Enough of that!”

Randy’s voice rang in his ears, but Beau couldn’t refocus. He needed fresh air to breathe, his lungs dried up and clinging to every molecule like he’d been deprived of oxygen for days. The small room felt suddenly suffocating as the monster across from him sneered joyfully.

“Look, I don’t know if you’re saying all that horseshit ‘cause you wanna hurt him or me,” Randy said, his voice laced with a darkness Beau had never seen before.

“Little bit of both,” Diane teased with a shrug.

“Yeah, well, I don’t care either way,” Randy huffed, the deep creases in his brow casting threatening shadows on his face. “Do your worst to me or him. Hell, burn us at the stake if it makes you feel any better, sweetheart, but all I wanna know is where that bunker is. Where is she? Your beef’s clearly with us. Men, right? You know she doesn’t deserve this. Just let her go.”

Diane seemed unamused by the suggestion, leaning back in the metal chair. “You’re right. She doesn’t deserve this. I actually like her. She reminds me of me. But you two did this to her. It’s out of my hands at this point. You don’t deserve her, sheriff,” she said and looked at Beau before her cold eyes shifted to Randy. “Neither do you, detective. I know a lot of things – and not just about the sheriff here. I know what you did to her, too.”

Randy forced a tight smile. “You’re bluffing. I didn’t do anything.”

“Am I?” Diane quirked a brow and then sent him an innocent smile. “About four years ago, she wrote a rather lengthy email to her sister Sophia in Seattle. She seemed very upset. Said there was a little something you wouldn’t give her. Ring any bells?”

With a thick swallow and a glare swimming in his hazel eyes, Randy nodded. “We’re done here.”

Diane let out a long, suspenseful sigh, not bothering to engage further. Her icy heart wouldn’t melt. Her eyes flickered around the bleak, depressing room. “I miss windows. Haven’t seen the outside for days.”

“Yeah, and you ain’t gonna,” Beau huffed. He had quietly listened, his heart rate slowing down as his head started spinning with questions. You had never told him anything. He had never asked. It had been an unspoken rule to not talk about your marriage. Beau always figured knowing too much would only make it worse.

“Too bad. I always liked the autumn sunsets. When it gets dark sooner…” Diane then stretched out her neck. “Anyways, nice chatting with you boys, but it’s time for my beauty nap now. Which one of you two cowboys is gonna accompany me back to my cell, hm?”

The men shared a look and then wordlessly rose, leaving the room. In the safety of the hallway, Beau ran a hand over his face and took his first deep breath.

Air. Lungs. Brain. Without toxicity, he could finally think straight again.

“Well, this was pointless and a waste of our time. Happy now?” Beau huffed with his newfound lung capacity.

But Randy’s brow was furrowed. He was thinking. “Actually, yeah… Didn’t you hear what she said?”

“Yeah, bunch of narcissistic bullshit. She’s not gonna tell us where Y/N is,” Beau muttered bitterly. If possible, he wished to never converse with that psychotic witch again. There was only so much he could handle before snapping her neck.

“She said that she doesn’t know where Y/N is now,” Randy pointed out. “Maybe she wasn’t lying. Maybe Y/N’s not in the bunker yet. Turner might keep her somewhere else and wait till he can move her.”

“At sundown,” Beau mused, Diane’s words haunting his mind. “He’ll move her when it’s dark.”

“Which means we still have a couple hours to find her,” Randy finished the thought.

“Popcorn!” Beau yelled down the hallway. The sheriff found himself in better spirits. He hadn’t used a silly name for his most loyal deputy in days, although it ached a tiny bit to say it now. “Any properties in Newton’s name?”

“Yes, sir, several,” Mo replied.

“I need a list of all in the area. Get a team together and search ‘em. One by one,” Beau ordered. “Warehouses, cabins… Take it all apart. I don’t care.”

“And also see if any properties are in Hal Turner’s name and add them to the list,” Randy suggested.

Poppernak shot Beau a look, and only when the latter gave his agreement, did the deputy nod. “Yes, Sheriff Arlen.”

The obnoxiously loud sound of birds woke you from a deep slumber. Groggily, you pried your eyes open and found the first few beams of sunlight warming your face. For a peaceful moment of dazed bliss, you had no clue where you were or how you got here.

There was a thumping, searing pain in your skull, hammering away at your sanity like the ticks of a clock. Your neck and shoulders hurt from tension till you realized you were bound to an old wooden chair, a harsh and creaking surface underneath you. Your behind felt both sore and numb.

Glancing around the room, you noticed you were in the living quarters of a small cabin. A fireplace sat to your right. Above it, a cuckoo clock that showed shortly past noon, and you realized that must’ve produced the bird noise that woke you. The stinging sunlight reached your eyes and filled you with hope.

Hal Turner hadn’t locked you into a bunker yet.

“You’re awake. Good.” Turner entered the room with a bottle of water and a sandwich, throwing the items unceremoniously onto your lap. “You need to eat. We’ll leave soon.”

“Where are we going?”

“Where they all went,” he said and came up behind you. Turner wasn’t a man of tall stature. Small, middle-aged, nervous. Non-threatening.

Diane’s little ant.

He cut your ties, and you could tell his hands were shaking. They didn’t treat the others like that. Entertaining a victim had never been his job before.

Sedated, dumped, marooned.

That had been the pattern, and you hoped this little off-course adventure would pay off with your freedom. Your gaze drifted down to a lonely brown belt buckle.

Unarmed.

With free hands and Turner still vulnerably behind you, your arms shot up and wrapped around his neck. Fortunately, he wasn’t as heavy as Beau in training when you jolted him forward, jumped up, and rammed his face straight into your knee.

Unconscious for the moment, Turner tumbled to the ground, and you sprinted through the front door. You hoped it would give you enough time to find an exit.

But all you found was a vast sea of trees – towering pines that reached heavenward with no neighboring houses or roads in sight.

There was a shed to your left. Tools. You needed weapons.

And, most of all, you needed more goddamn time to think your way out of this one.

It wasn’t long till you heard the front door of the cabin slam open, heavy and angry footsteps aimlessly searching before they slowly circled closer to the shed.

Fortunately, your little hide-out had proved itself useful – and fully stocked. Turner had arranged his tools in a neatly organized manner. Nothing seemed to be out of place, screwdrivers hanging on the wall from small to big, pliers, drills, hacksaws… Your weapons of choice, however, fell on a hammer and the heaviest, biggest wrench.

Lurking behind the small barn door, you lay in wait till the old door creaked open and Hal Turner walked through. He only blinked at you wide-eyed before your first hit with the wrench landed across his right cheek. It was hard enough for blood to spew out of his mouth, and as he tumbled forward, you delivered your second blow – the hammer, this time, slamming against the back of his head.

Dropping the tools, you decided to take your chances and make a run through the woods for it. You still had a few fleeting hours till dark. If you just kept going, maybe you’d make it to a road or a town somewhere before you froze to death.

What a great outlook…

However, you didn’t even get farther than a few yards from the house before a sharp pain seared from your ankle throughout your entire body. Falling harshly and bracing yourself on the cold, wet leaves, you screamed out and looked down at the culprit – a bear trap.

Well, points for Hufflepuff!

Apparently, you had underestimated Turner. Ahead of you, you also spied some tripwire. Great. This place was a giant death trap – and you had already hated the woods before all of this.

Getting back onto your feet was not only hindered by the giant claws in your flesh but also the iron chain attached to the trap that tethered you to the ground. So, with your freezing hands, you dug out the metal stake that served as your anchor.

Then, the fucking bear trap – you knew this one would hurt like a son of a bitch. Carefully, you inspected the oozing wound, the razor sharp edges deeply clutching your skin at your lower calf and ankle. For a moment, you even swore you could feel the tips of their pointed teeth drilling into your bone. You tried to pry them apart with your hands but gave up on that idea rather quickly once the jaws cut your fingers.

Glancing at the shed, you saw the door was still ajar. It was quiet in there. Either Hal Turner was gone, solely unconscious, or currently bleeding to death. The shed was your Schrödinger’s cat. As long as you didn’t know which one it was, you still had time.

Taking several deep breaths, you closed your eyes and remembered the trip you took with Beau when you were back in Houston. The two of you drove camping in Piney Woods. For a few days, you were gone and unknown to everyone around you. You could just be you and him. No one had to hide anything. No one had to feel guilty. In those short days, you realized you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.

“Did you know bear traps are actually pretty easy to get out of?” Beau babbles a random fact in his usual manner when neither of you has said anything in a minute. He glances at you, a happy smile on his face as he intertwines his fingers with yours during a stroll through the green and lush forest.

“Huh.”

“Yeah, all you gotta do is not panic, get up on your feet, and press your weight down on the springs at the bottom. Just pops open and you can pull your leg out,” he explains with a popping sound, turning the little lesson into a show-and-tell.

“Don’t panic…” you mumbled to yourself and sat up. “Get up…” With a strained groan and your palms supportively on the ground, you heaved yourself to your feet. You winced as you put pressure on your injured leg and, therefore, tried to shift your weight to your good one. The main problem was the next step: “Press down.”

Mentally, you braced yourself before you slowly started to put pressure on the leg again. The jaws moved and wiggled in your flesh, but the pain was too much too bear. You bit down on your tongue as tears strangled your eyes.

Alright, next try.

If slow was too painful, then maybe the bandaid method was the way to go. Quick and painless, as they say. You inhaled and exhaled through your nose as you raised your foot a few inches above ground, making sure the springs would hit the uneven surface properly. Then, you kicked down.

The trap sprung open, you pulled your foot out, and released a primal scream that echoed through the quiet woods, surely disturbing whatever lived there.

And then, suddenly, Hal Turner stood in front of you with a shovel.

Diane’s listed properties came up empty. There was still no sign of you. Turner, on the other hand, had only booked a motel room in his name but hadn’t been seen there in weeks. So, Beau figured he had to be staying somewhere if he wasn’t sleeping in his room.

At four o’clock, the sheriff was close to a breakdown when all leads petered out and the daylight was almost gone. But then Cassie and Denise stormed the station, both out of breath, and brought forth a document that showed a property north of Helena in the name of a Diane Turner. It was a remote cabin in the middle of the woods, which also happened to be close to the location where the ambulance had picked up Randy.

Ding, ding, ding!

Beau gathered the whole cavalry and raced there as fast as he could. By the time he was ten minutes out, the sky had grown dark, the woods pitch-black around him. Switching on the Jeep’s headlights only added to the uneasiness in his stomach. His passenger was quiet next to him, but Beau could tell how worried Randy was by the way his left leg anxiously drummed against the floor mat.

Both of them thought it was too late to save you.

An access road, all dirt, led up behind the cabin, only making it a short hike. Turner’s vehicle had been parked at the fork where it reached pavement. They seemed to be on the right track. After all, if Turner was here, then hopefully so were you.

Beau and Randy were the first to arrive, the cabin inside dark without a single light on, not even a candle burning in the smudged windows. Carefully, the men stepped on the porch, the property around them quiet and undisturbed, but the front door was an inch ajar. Pulling out their weapons, the two shared a look without speaking a word before entering the house, a feeling of familiarity rising in Beau’s chest.

They were still partners, somewhere deep down.

The floorboards creaked under Beau’s boots as he treaded down the hallway. The cabin was small, only consisting of one bedroom, a living area, a kitchen and bath. While the men checked each room, Beau already knew you weren’t here anymore – if you’d ever been here to begin with. Maybe Diane had sent them on a wild goose-chase, another sick game created by the mind of psychopath, while you had been locked in a bunker all along, waiting for him to find you.

How much air did you still have left? Would he get to you in time?

“Beau!”

His partner’s voice drew him from the bedroom to the living space, his mind still rattling with the unspoken fear of losing you. His green eyes then focused on the beam of Randy’s flashlight as it shone on a wooden chair in the middle of the room, a set of cut plastic ties on the floor next to it. There was also an uneaten sandwich and an unopened bottle of water scattered on the ground.

And then, there were the trails, the little drops, and the sheer pools of blood everywhere that made his gut churn. Was it all yours?

“We need to get forensics here,” Beau said with a thick swallow, already pulling out his phone to call Jenny.

“That’s a lot of blood,” Randy said with a lump in his throat, his eyes transfixed on the little red pond by the tips of his feet. And although it was dark, Beau could see the color drain from his partner’s face.

“I know.” Beau bobbed his head quietly, gently clasping his friend’s shoulder as he held his phone to his ear.

The sheriff then informed Jenny of their findings, telling her to hurry any lab results along. The sooner they knew whose blood it was, the better. As he hung up, he noticed Randy following a trail of blood to the door, leading further outside. He shone his flashlight through the dense foliage before it landed on a little working shed to the right.

As Randy creaked the door of the shed open, with Beau behind him, both thought there was a high probability they’d stumble upon a body in there – if not two.

Instead, the shed was disappointingly empty.

Beau whistled lowly as the light hit the neatly arranged wall of tools. “Well, that’s some freak level organization.”

But Randy’s brow furrowed as his light landed on the ground behind the door. “There’s a hammer and wrench on the ground.” He knelt down to inspect it closer. “Got blood on it. Lot of it.”

Beau chuckled lightly and ran a palm over his face to keep the stinging tears of hope inside, which only confused Randy.

“What’s so funny? Y/N might be dead,” Randy said sourly.

“That’s not Turner’s doing,” Beau argued and gestured at the tools on the ground, his heart flooding with a tiny bit of relief. “Look at the wall. Why would he kill her with tools? It’s way too bloody. Guy like this can’t handle the mess. He had a perfectly fine gun. Would’ve been way cleaner if he wanted to.”

“So, you think this was Y/N?” Randy thought for a moment before nodding. “The ties inside were cut. The food and water on the floor… Maybe he cut her loose and she took advantage of it? I mean, it does sound like her.”

“Yeah…” Beau’s eyes then musingly drifted back to the wall. “Is there a screwdriver on the ground somewhere? There’s one missing here.”

“Nope, nothing on the ground,” Randy replied once his flashlight search was complete. “You think she took it with her?”

“Let’s hope so…”

“But if Y/N managed to overpower Turner, why isn’t she here? And where’s Turner? And if it happened out here, why is there so much blood inside?”

Beau licked his chapped lips, his brow returning to their initially creased position. “Maybe she didn’t take him out for good.”

“You thinkin’ she knocked him out and escaped?”

“Yeah, and then Turner woke up, went back into the house before taking off after her through those woods,” Beau shared his theory. It would explain the vast amounts of blood inside.

“So, your theory is she’s lost and being hunted?” Randy cocked a brow.

Beau only offered him a shrug. “Best possible scenario.”

“Great.” Randy scoffed. “What’s the worst possible scenario then?”

Beau’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I think we both know.” Licking his lips, he patted Randy’s shoulder. “But let’s not think about the worst right now. I’ll get a team going to search these woods. We’ll find her. You’re not losing her again, alright?”

Randy could only nod and hope, but a little tug on his heart told him something different as he glanced at his former friend.

“It’s been three hours,” Randy huffed frustratedly as they passed the same street sign to Helena down the mountain once more, driving up and down the roads around the cabin in an endless loop, hoping and praying a miracle would happen. “Don’t you think we would’ve found her by now? If she’s hurt and inside those woods, we should be in there looking for her.”

Beau passed another sigh between his lips. There had been three hours of that, too. Patience was a not only an eight-letter word but a bitch as well.

“Neither of us is any help there. We don’t know those woods. You don’t even a phone, Randy,” Beau said with a bit more firmness in his voice, causing his partner’s frown to deepen. Saved by the bell, Beau’s phone chimed in his pocket with Jenny’s angelic name popping up on the screen. He pulled over on the side of the road before picking up.

“What you got? Uh-huh… You sure? What did they say about the cabin? Okay… Both of ‘em? How far? Which direction? Alright… We’re close. Driving back up there now.”

Randy held his breath till Beau hung up, trying to guess the content of the phone call by the various facial expressions of the sheriff. Then, he asked, “Good news or bad news?”

“Hard to say,” Beau replied, his eyes fixed on his hands gripping the steering wheel. He swallowed the lump in his throat, gave himself an encouraging nod, and started the engine, trying to sink every bad theory that surfaced in his mind. “Forensics came back. Our theory was partially correct. The blood inside the cabin was mostly Turner’s.”

Randy raised a brow, his heartbeat thrumming in his ears. “Mostly?”

“Evidence points to her not escaping. Turner might have gotten to her before she could even leave the property. They found a bear trap with her blood on it,” Beau explained slowly, his grip on the wheel tightening. “Dogs picked up a trail, leading into the woods. Forensics confirmed both of their blood on that trail.”

“Doesn’t mean anything. He could’ve followed her. She still could’ve escaped,” Randy replied and knew full well it was only sugarcoating the truth swimming in the lower pits of his belly.

“Could’ve…” Beau nodded and swallowed heavily. “But then again, if she did manage to escape, how did her blood end up inside the cabin?”

Defeated, Randy licked his lips, expelling a humorless chuckle. “Yeah, guess my hopes are little too high. I mean, how the hell would you get out of a bear trap?”

Beau knew the question was mostly rhetorical, but true to himself, he still answered, “It’s actually pretty easy. Just press down on the springs, and the thing opens right up.” A smile formed on his lips as a memory popped back into his mind. “I told Y/N that once when we took a camping trip back in Houston. She probably didn’t remember it. I mean, honestly, I doubt she was even listening. I was kinda ramblin’, you know?”

“Uh-huh. I remember. I’ve spent a lot of time with you…” Randy smacked his lips, fingers tapping his thigh. “You guys went on a trip together?”

Beau’s mouth opened on reflex, but he stopped himself from replying, shooting a scrutinizing look at his partner. “Yeah, uh, just the one, really. Shoulda been more…”

Regrets seeped to the surface. If Beau had known he had only a finite amount of time with you, he would’ve enjoyed and appreciated every last second of it. He should’ve spent less time in his head. He should’ve taken you out on more dates. He should’ve been the best he could be. Instead, he wasted so much time and couldn’t even remember why in retrospect.

“What makes you say that?” Randy’s question rang both with curiosity and pain. His brown eyes stared stubbornly ahead and focused on the dark road.

Beau blew a long sigh. “Well, I wasn’t always the best–,” he hesitated a moment before saying the word, “–boyfriend, I guess.”

If Randy was upset by the term, he didn’t let it show. Maybe he was sticking to Rule #2. He quirked a brow and glanced at Beau in the driver’s seat. “So, on top of stealing my wife, you’re telling me you didn’t even treat her right?”

“Guess so,” Beau admitted quietly, poking the inside of his cheeks with his tongue and ignoring the subtle jab. “And I didn’t treat her badly, by the way. Just could’ve tried harder. Felt guilty because she was your-, well, you know… And the divorce got kinda messy, too. I just wanted to stay clear of complications.”

Exasperated, Randy scoffed, shaking his head. “This is not really making me want to give you my blessing…”

Beau huffed a chuckle. “Didn’t know that was an option.”

“Well, it’s not. You don’t deserve her.” Randy clicked his tongue, pensively bobbing his head. He then finally admitted, the words sounding almost sour, “Neither do I. You might be as big of an idiot as me.”

Beau’s eyes widened in surprise, his focus briefly swaying from the road. “What d’you mean? You guys were perfect together. Is this about what Newton said?”

Randy’s lips curved into a bitter smile. “Y/N never told you?”

“Told me what?”

Randy chewed on his lower lip before pushing out the words that had plagued him for three years. “She wanted to leave me.”

Beau shook his head. “Nah, I don’t buy it. She loved you. You should’ve seen her after she thought you’d died.”

Randy inhaled sharply, his head spinning with regret and heart filling with hope. For the past years, he had wondered if he’d ever get another chance to fix things with you.

“Yeah, well, it’s true,” he said, his gaze cast downward as if he were confessing his sins to a priest. “She wanted kids, and I told her I didn’t. Neither of us was backing down. The night the cartel kidnapped me, we were supposed to have dinner and talk about it when I got home. Part of me already knew where it was headed.”

Beau listened and nodded. He remembered the set dinner table, the lovingly prepared food, the candles – it didn’t seem like something one would do if they planned on leaving.

“No, I don’t think she would’ve left you,” Beau noted, although his heart stung when he said it out loud.

“I overheard her asking Carla for a divorce lawyer. Pretty sure she was,” Randy retorted. “Seems silly now. She was already out of my league. I should’ve just given her what she wanted. I don’t even know why I didn’t. I should’ve just shut up and been grateful.”

“That’s what I would’ve told you to do,” Beau muttered, his brain trying to keep track and process everything. Why had you never told him any of this? And more importantly: “Why have you never told me?”

“Guess I was embarrassed.” Randy shrugged. “And I already knew what you would’ve said.”

Secretly amused, Beau cocked a brow. “What? That you’re an idiot?”

“Exactly.”

“And Carla knew?”

“I guess.” Randy gave another shrug of his shoulders. “I mean, they talked all the time. Well, mostly it was Carla complaining about you, but still…”

Beau’s brow furrowed into deep lines. He should’ve been more surprised than he was. The only thing that really baffled him was the fact you had still agreed to date him after hearing all of that. What else didn’t he know?

“I thought they met once a week for book club?”

Randy shot him a pitying look. “Dude, there was no book club. Only three bottles of wine.” He then exhaled a long sigh, stretching back into his seat. “Maybe it’s good she didn’t pick anyone. She deserves someone who can give her what she wants.”

“What makes you think I can’t?” A little offended, Beau raised his brow. “You know, when she came back a few weeks ago, I swore I’d make things right. I wouldn’t let her go this time.”

But Beau broke that promise. He pushed you away to stay clear of complications. His heart twinged.

“And you think she wanted to live in a trailer in the woods of Montana?”

“Doesn’t matter. I would’ve given her anything she wanted. No questions asked,” Beau stated simply. “I was happy when I was with her. Didn’t matter where we were or what we were doing.”

“So, what? You planned on marrying her? Kids?”

Beau twitched his shoulders, his eyes not drifting from the street. If he glanced at Randy only for a beat, he couldn’t ignore his friend’s reactions any longer and still remain honest. “We never talked about it, but... If that’s what she wants, then yeah. Don’t even have to think about it. You really were an idiot, you know?”

“I know that. Thank you,” Randy huffed sarcastically and rolled his eyes. “Still not getting my blessing, though.”

“Good thing you’re not her father,” Beau snapped. He could only muster so much patience. “You don’t really have a say in who she’s datin’.”

“You’re one to talk.” Randy scoffed mockingly. “I met your friend Denise at the station. We had a long chat. She almost talks as much as you. Sounded like you tried to have a say in who Carla should marry. Little hypocritical, don’t you think?”

“That’s different,” Beau retorted defensively. “We have a kid together. Whoever Carla’s seeing is also gonna be in Emily’s life.”

“So, you don’t even care a little about Carla’s well-being? ‘Cause Denise said you killed her new husband,” Randy countered cleverly.

“Of course I care,” Beau admitted frustratedly. What did Randy want to hear? That he was right about everything? Well, except one thing: “And I didn’t kill Avery, by the way. Might have been slightly responsible for his death, sure, but I didn’t kill the idiot.”

“Seems to be a pattern for you. Maybe Diane was right,” Randy muttered wryly.

Beau licked his lips and sighed. “Listen, I know that devil woman is good at getting into someone’s head, but you gotta believe me, man. I did not leave you to die. If I had known–”

“Whoa, I know,” Randy interrupted him with an amused chuckle and two placating hands. “I was just joking. I knew you didn’t hand me over to the cartel on purpose in some evil ploy to get with my wife. That would be insane.”

Beau gave a nod, accepting his answer with relief. “Well, good.”

“Look, I’m not delusional, contrary to what everyone’s thinking. I know things happened while I was away,” Randy admitted. “I figured she had moved on. For three years, I actually hoped she did. I wanted her to be happy. Just didn’t think it be you, I guess. Probably shouldn’t have been surprised, though. I kinda knew you always liked her. Just didn’t think any more of it, you know?”

“And there wasn’t more, alright? I promise,” Beau assured him, his cheeks reddening from embarrassment. He never thought Randy would’ve suspected anything – not that there really ever was anything. But had his tiny crush really been that obvious? “One of those things, you know? Just ‘cause I find Michelle Rodriguez attractive doesn’t mean I seriously expect to date her. I didn’t know it was more than that till I spent some time with her.”

“Good to know,” was all Randy said, crossing his arms with an uncomfortable clear of his throat. “Definitely surprised Y/N likes you, though. She always had a pretty low opinion of you. Said you were doing shitty police work and I should be more careful. Guess she was right..." Beau shot him a darkened look but refrained from taking the bait. Randy pursed his lips. "Look, I know I’m a pain in your ass right now. You’d probably love to get rid of me.”

“Well, hey, that’s not–”

“What, true?” Knowingly, Randy lifted a brow. “I would if I were you.”

Beau only nodded, not admitting out loud the thought had certainly crossed his mind. “So, what are you thinking now?”

“Still want her to be happy,” Randy said quietly.

All of a sudden, Beau then slammed on the brakes, both men jolting forward into their seatbelts. A loud thud echoed through the car as something heavy hit the Jeep’s hood. For a moment, the sheriff thought he’d run into a deer before blinking his eyes at the bloodied and muddied image of Hal Turner.

“What the hell?!”

Turner was in rough shape, pantingly and deliriously stumbling around the car and onto the road, shielding his eyes from the blinding headlights with his palm. Blood dripped from various places from his head and body before Beau’s eyes narrowed on the metal tool stuck inside his neck.

“Guess we found our missing screwdriver,” Randy noted as the two men jumped out of the car, guns drawn.

“Where is she, Turner?” Beau prompted sternly, his finger itching to pull the trigger for everything he’d done to you. But knowing where you were was more important than a vendetta. Turner could only speak while he was alive.

And the man seemed to know it, too. Before the sheriff could call for back-up and an ambulance, Turner sneered and raised a hand, gripping the screwdriver tightly.

“No, don’t!”

Beau’s plea came too late. Hal Turner pulled the makeshift weapon out of his throat and collapsed to the ground, bleeding out within seconds.

Randy’s fingers landed on the man’s pulse point. He glanced up at his partner with a shake of his head. “He’s gone.”

Throwing his gun angrily into the rustling brushes, Beau gripped his temples and screamed into the void of the dark woods. Desperation clawed on his mind and heart. The fear of losing you for good took him prisoner. With labored breaths, he squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and rubbed his tired eyes. Turner had been his last lead. He knew more wouldn’t be coming.

What now?

A sanctimonious beep of his phone drew his attention. A small part of him prayed it was Jenny, informing him you’d emerged a few miles up the road – bloody like Turner, but otherwise fine. Alive.

But his green eyes only found an email and darkened at the sender’s name. “Diane just sent me a link.”

Randy, caught in his own spiral, suddenly glanced up. “To what?”

“Livestream.”

Chapter 13: Sure And Certain – JANUARY 10

Another cliffhanger, and it looks like Diane's still having the last laugh 🙈

What did you think of this part? Were you surprised by Randy's revelation? He might've changed his mind on a few things 😉

See ya next week for the freaking finale 🤍

Join the TAG LIST here! 🌌 Wanna sponsor my caffeine addiction? ☕️

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways

@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70 @brightlilith

@nesnejwritings @samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @fromcaintodean @barewithme02

@thebiggerbear @star-yawnznn

Everything Beau Arlen: @snowayumi

Polaris Series: @corruptedcruiser

[tittyinfinity]

It's really nice having a free housekeeping service thru my Medicaid but ever since my regular housekeeper that I had for a year (now friend) got promoted in March it's like every other person I've had fuckin hates disabled people

[a-cloud-for-dreams]

tysm for the tag Lizzie and Ava!! mwah 💗 the images are "objectively" ranked (left->right, then top->bottom) but the explanations are moreso based on personal attachments

kali: flame of samsara/song of the crimson nile: despite my well-known hatred for remy, she always has some of the most interesting story concepts (even though they're poorly executed especially past S1). i love her MCs, LIs, and and the historical settings infused with fantastical/mystery elements (even if they aren't handled well.) in my heart, i knew these books could be better with a stronger writer, but i have a soft spot for these characters and always play remy's books first after every update before moving onto other books. i would rewrite a lot of their S2s (and SOTCN's S3) to make them cleaner and more efficient because there technically is a lot to work with

astrea's broken heart: i don't think there's anything unique i can say here but i LOVE LOVE LOVE this book!! i have a soft spot for this book since it was the first RC book i saw update from the very beginning rather than jumping into an already ongoing/completed book. i love the concept, the MC, the art style, the LIs, the MYSTERY!! it's a book that is really easy to rec to new RC users (even tho the Wattpad nature of writing for S1 did make me cringe a bit i'm sorry 😭). i wish this book wasn't tied down by the HS-verse of it all but at least they set it up? and i want to see where they go with this

heaven's secret requiem: specifically S1, but i'm still giving S2 room to improve itself ig. i adore lane she's literally one of my favorite and most relatable MCs. the unsettling atmosphere, the morally grey characters, the overall concept, the WRITING STYLE?! top tier. if someone else were to write for greg and anna (along with letting boris stay dead but still haunting lane) this book could be PERFECT. also i will mention lane again because i love the way she's written as a sort of unreliable narrator who doesn't even know what's going on with herself. *chef's kiss*

soulless: wow, just, wow. i need to give a standing ovation for Wincy for how much she DEVOURED with this book. i don't even know where to begin but the way haters turned into fans when they realized this book would be deeper than "haha smut" was INCREDIBLE to watch unfold! I love vyx sm like lane she's such an amazing MC with some of the best character development on the app I can't wait to learn more about her

shakespeare's code: when it was revealed amy was the one writing for this book, i will admit i was skeptical. but thankfully i was proven WRONG. amabelle is literally one of my favorite MCs we finally get to play as someone who is evil and doesn't have to become a better person (alongside lane)!! i love how many stats you can play through and the LIs are all unique and interesting, we love to see it. i love the current ongoing theory that amabelle is a "lost shakespeare character" in one of his plays that never came to light which is why she's being surrounded by shakespeare characters in other plays in one world that shakespeare is holding together to avoid coping with a grave loss (ok wandavision). but tldr i can't wait to see what amy does with this book <33

and the haze will take us/the thunderstorms saga: these books are somewhere between being honorable mentions and faves. bear in mind that i haven't read their recent updates yet, but both books are really well done and have wonderful MCs/worldbuilding!! i always enjoy playing them but i don't have an aggressive attachment to them like i do with other books even if those other books are objectively worse if that makes sense?? it's like after i close the book i don't spend a lot of outside time thinking about them unless i'm in the mood to do so. i love the way haze is centered on slavic culture and i feel like it's difficult to mess up fantasy/elves it's so classic!

honorable mention: the missing (it's too early to officially declare it a fave but i LOVE it so far) & w: timecatcher (really well thought out book and you could feel the love arina has for all of her characters)!!

Bringing this back !

Here's a fun little thing I'm bringing back for the fandom - reblog this (or make ur own post) with your favorite ONGOING books, if you want you can add reasons as to why they're your favorites, and tag people who you think would like to participate ! 😁

reasoning & tagging below the cut to not clog the post ✨

honorable mentions: astrea's broken heart, the missing, w time catcher, kali: flame of samsara.

tagging: @theodoravery @suckitphaneuf @lanesrequiem @haitianempress @ratanslily @jillfvs @a-cloud-for-dreams @taemcains @webanglikethat @hexesandroses @renninflight @rosesandpearlss and anyone else who would like to participate ! <3

a) Soulless - where do I start ? Amazing. Showstoping. Spectacular. Totally unique, completely not ever been done before. I LOVE every single love interest, I love Vyxaria as an MC no matter the path, I looove how neatly the plot all ties together - it's just all amazing. Best ongoing story I think.

b) Shakespeare's Code - despite the fact it's been 6 episodes, this story is bumped to the TOP of my favorites. It's just amazing, Amabelle is extremely entertaining as an MC, the love interests all have different plotlines, and I love how many stats & combinations you can have !

c) 7 Brothers - of course, it wouldn't be fair to talk about my favorites without talking about this story I've been defending tooth & nail since forever. A misunderstood work of art, I really like the MC, Jaynie's so relatable & an all-around character, I absolutely cherish her. Of course, there's the love interests & Langley's amazing writing strikes again. It's always the first story I play every update <3

d) Love, Sin & Evil - another underrated work of art, my favorite thing about this story is the mechanics of saving the characters ! Super innovative, I love it. I also think Mina's a super entertaining MC and the fashion is just top notch, though on the more expensive side 👌 Eagerly waiting for the next update & the upcoming finale.

e) Heaven's Secret: Requiem - unfortunately, despite all its problems, specifically romance-wise, I still really like this story, at least for the plot of it. I'm still invested in what the fuck is the deal with Lane, and how it's all going to end.

f) And The Haze Will Take Us - Suuuuper invested to see where Alice is taking this story. I was kind of torn on season 1 but I'm actually really focused on season 2 to see where this story and this haze will be taking us ! Looking forward to the next update.

[adore-gregor]

.

[marnum]

Oh I'm all about this. I've been subjecting a friend to all my rambles but now the hull has been breached.

Im still working out some details of her story, but heres Savia in the Regret Prison.

I actually do think it would still contain Varric, specifically because he reminds her of her father. Savia didn't join the crows until she was 13, she remembers her parents very clearly and losing Varric cut her in a way she wasn't expecting or prepared for. She didn't think she had projected that much onto him in the little time they knew each other. Having him around at the Lighthouse, offering a little advice here and there, was enough motivation for her to step up and lead the team. She's already a little paranoid, now it's worse.

But if the rule is that Varric isn't there at all...

Firstly would be her father. After her mother died, he wasn't the same, and she always felt like she could have done more for him. Its the kind of guilt that children forced into adulthood have.

It's more about forgiving herself. She was his child, it wasn't her responsibility to take care of him. He left her with the only chance of staying alive that he knew, even if it caused her more grief than being on the streets ever could. She has to accept that it was never her fault and even if she hadn't been around, he would have ended up in the same sad and desperate place.

Second would be her Benefactor. He hasn't got a name yet, but in summary he's a Bard who killed her mother in a fit of artistic rivalry, then when he found out her father sold her to the Crows he took a contract out on himself (assigned specifically to Savia, no he will not let anyone else do it) as an elaborate finish to a decades long project on life and death because "it's poetic". Savia would receive many gifts and letters from him over the years until she finally got the go ahead to hunt him down in Orlais and kill him.

He literally ruined her life. He killed her mother, which caused her father to fall off the wagon, and then she ended up in the Crows. But she still accepted the gifts and the money and all the nice things he sent on her. They never met until she came to find him, but she was afraid it would happen the entire time in between. Could she have tried to find him before? Probably. Would she have been prepared? Probably not. What would have that done besides ruin her reputation among the Crows? She had nothing but her reputation at that point, this was the best option. It's another case of "it's not your fault" tbh... there's a pattern here.

If I had to add someone else that isn't a companion, because she truly does blame herself for all of that... I couldn't say. Maybe the echos of her fellow fledglings, the ones she had to fight to earn her spot that are probably dead because of her...

If we go with what is becoming her Canon, my friends and I have made a 3 Crows AU and the other figures she'd see would be her fellow de Riva proteges. The two people she would hate to let down the most, her little nestlings, her dearest friends, the only ones she'd leave everyone else for. Being seen by them as a failure would break her heart.

Savia's biggest hurdle will always be her self doubt. She needs to realize that she has as much value as all the people she cares for, that she would leave a space in their lives if she disappeared. That they do love her as much as she loves them.

Once she can accept that, she'd be able to make her way forward.

Oh no it’s Monday, the worst day =(

Oh YAY! It’s the Rook Intro Hour! 🎉💕🍾🎁

How it works: I ask you a question about your Rook(s) and you answer it with as much brevity or verbosity as you desire. You can do this whenever you want, and I’ll reblog it + add some comments! There’s no time limit— if you want to do the older ones, they are collected here! (The post is updated on Fridays!)

Today’s Questions: If the regret prison that Solas traps Rook in at the end of the game hadn’t contained Varric + some of Rook’s companions, what would your Rook have seen there? Would they have been able to overcome their regrets? What would the process have looked like for them— how would they have worked through their emotions without anything to guide them?

Have fun, and thanks for sharing !

[thestrangestwatermelonofall]

i will never forget the time I was hanging out with two other people who were new friends and they were like "let's do a sonic fandub" and one of them started looking up sonic game footage on youtube for us to dub while we discussed who would speak for who and we decided I'd voice tails. But also I knew nothing about sonic at the time, i'd only seen the snapcube fandubs because I'd heard they were good and funny, I didn't know the plot or characters very well. I couldn't remember what they sounded like so while the other two started to say silly things in sonic and amy's voices I asked "what does tails sound like again?" And I was laughing because I was embarrassed and also shocked by how quickly they had started commiting to the bit of trying to do some voice acting and my friend just said "he sounds like a twink" and I could not stop laughing and I could not take the idea seriously and I just told them that I couldn't do the voice oops. And so we moved onto a different topic pretty quickly and just enjoyed the pizza we had while we waited for our other three friends to get back from the store

anyways all of this is to say that Tails is NOT a twink, he is an 8 year old little boy and my friend was misguided.

[beeholyshit]

thinking about baby Pastelito wiwiw...