#sign those petitions ladies

[fastandcarlos]

Mr Steal Your Girl » Lando Norris ft. Charles LeClerc

summary: the little sister of the leclerc’s catches plenty of attention, but what happens when she particularly catches the attention of a man in papaya

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liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 349,281 comments

ynleclerc: another week of travelling round the world pretending to be the most popular member of the leclerc family ❤️

42,291 comments

username1: you’ll always be the best leclerc sibling imo 🥰

username2: oh to be able to travel around with those three handsome faces

carlossainz55: lovely to see you y/n, same time next week?

ynleclerc: @/carlossainz55 you know charles won’t let me miss a race 😂

username3: you’re the most popular leclerc to me!!

arthur_leclerc: are we just going to pretend I wasn’t racing too? 😭

ynleclerc: @/arthur_leclerc what’s to say this is my only post about this weekend 🤔

username4: you must be such a proud sister y/n!

landonorris: you’ll be my favourite if you convince charles to let me win 😉

username5: lando wtf

username6: is lando tryna impress a leclerc 🤯

charles_leclerc: you always manage to find the most flattering photos of me 😂❤️

alexandrasaintmleux: don’t tell charles but you’re secretly my number one 🤐

ynleclerc/ @/alexandrasaintmleux secret is safe with me 🥰🥺

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liked by landonorris, arthur_leclerc and 428,903 others

ynleclerc: a few snippets of yet another week with my fave trio ☺️

42,328 comments

username7: I just want to be part of the family too 😭

oscarpiastri: you seem to have forgotten your favourite brother…

ynleclerc: @/oscarpiastri dedicated post to my fave brother coming up 😂

username8: it’s not fair for one family to have so many good genes

landonorris: you guys are a bit cute 🌸

ynleclerc: @/landonorris we try our best 😇

username9: charles does not look like he wants to be part of these photos at all 😂😂

arthur_leclerc: number one spot belongs to me 🤔

ynleclerc: @/arthur_leclerc whatever helps you sleep at night bro

username10: are we all just going to ignore lando in the comments again

username11: protective brother mode incoming…

pierregasly: stop feeding all your brothers’ fans with these kinda photos y/n!!

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liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 1,392,340 others

landonorris: thank you montreal for a lovely week, a wholesome week doing my favourite things 🌸🏎️

88,321 comments

username12: isn’t that the same emoji he posted on y/n’s post yesterday

username13: move the glass lando!!

alex_albon: something you want to tell me norris 🤔

georgerussell63: well the last photo is a bit of a surprise huh

username14: soft boyfriend lando is back ladies and gentleman

username15: petition for a face reveal asap

ynleclerc: that’s a big smile you’ve got there ☺️

landonorris: @/ynleclerc I just seem to be around someone who makes me pretty happy right now

username16: @/charles_leclerc @/arthur_leclerc come get your sister pls

username17: don’t say it…don’t say it…I think lando and y/n are dating

charles_leclerc: why are so many people sending me this post, what’s going on here sir?

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liked by ybffusername, arthur_leclerc and 428,003 others

ynleclerc: the best week with you! 💕🥺

63,291 comments

username18: more pretty pink flowers omg

arthur_leclerc: idk where in the world you are but I expect you back at my house asap

ynleclerc: @/arthur_leclerc im not a child anymore fyi 🙃

username19: no one can convince me that this isn’t lando

username20: all the signs point to a certain tanned brit 🤯🤯🤯

charles_leclerc: is this how you tell your brother that you’re with a boy, I refuse to accept this until you let me tell whoever they are exactly what I expect of them

username21: @/charles_leclerc luckily for you you’ll be seeing lando on thursday

oscarpiastri: I second what charles said, as your brother I expected better than this 😡

ynleclerc: @/oscarpiastri don’t you start as well

username22: if this is true…they might just be the cutest couple in the world

landonorris: 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 539,403 others

ynusername: I can be a mclaren girl for a week…right? 🏎️🧡

43,829 others

landonorris: you can be a mclaren girl every week as far as I’m concerned 🥰🤩

ynleclerc: @/landonorris my brothers aren’t happy that you’ve stolen me just so you know

landonorris: @/ynleclerc just call me mr steal your girl 🥰

username23: patiently waiting for charles to appear

username24: don’t tell your brothers, but papaya suits you more y/n 🧡

oscarpiastri: nice of you to come to the better team and support the better brother 😂

username25: y/n avoiding the ferrari garage for the foreseeable

charles_leclerc: um no…you’re a leclerc therefore you cheer for ferrari

ynleclerc: @/charles_leclerc I can support two teams, right?

charles_leclerc: @/ynleclerc no you cannot, why do you even want to support mclaren anyway?

ynleclerc: @/charles_leclerc I think you might no why 😝

username26: charles’ heart secretly breaking as his sister slips away

username27: preparing for lando to tease charles for the rest of his life

danielricciardo: you’re a brave girl…very brave

arthur_leclerc: we’ll be having words little sister

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liked by ynusername, carlossainz55 and 1,392,507 others

landonorris: live footage of charles leclerc officially welcoming me to the family 😂🏆

104,228 comments

arthur_leclerc: congrats on the podium finish lando…charles might welcome you, but I’m the tougher brother 😂

landonorris: @/arthur_leclerc I already know that you adore me 🥺

username28: you just know charles is giving lando the sternest warning of his life

username29: are we potentially seeing a new bromance??

ynleclerc: charles told me what he said to you…I’m so sorry 😂

landonorris: @/charles_leclerc don’t worry love, I’ll take the rant if it means being with you 🧡

username30: charles tryna act all protective when deep down he’s the soppiest brother ever

username31: can’t wait to see endless interactions between lando and the leclercs

username32: @/username31 don’t forget brother piastri too

charles_leclerc: you’ve not got the seal of approval just yet norris…👀

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liked by georgerussell63, alex_albon and 493,017 others

ynusername: my brothers keep asking me what I see in lando…I’m hoping this post will shut them up ☺️

58,201 comments

charles_leclerc: nothing will ever make this make sense to me 🙄

alexandrasaintmleux: @/charles_leclerc that’s not true, @/ynleclerc you should’ve heard him gushing about lando last night

charles_leclerc: @/alexandrasaintmleux I thought you loved me…that was between us 😡

ynleclerc: @/alexandrasaintmleux I knew I could rely on you for the truth 💕

username33: please just keep posting more and more boyfriend lando y/n

username34: thank you for feeding us fans what we want

alex_albon: well this is a little bit cute 🤩🩷

landonorris: thank you for finding all my best angles 🥰🧡

username35: how can anyone resist that smile??

arthur_leclerc: stop guilting us into public acceptance 😂

ynleclerc: @/arthur_leclerc idk what you’re talking about 😂

username36: the leclercs are officially my favourite family ever

oscarpiastri: if it counts for anything - I approve ☺️

ynleclerc: @/oscarpiastri fave brother 🏆✅

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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 732,049 others

ynusername: a girl can have more than one favourite can’t she ❤️🧡

84,030 comments

username37: imagine having four people in your life who adore you as much as these guys adore y/n

username38: it’s the all white coordination for me

carla.brocker: I thought that I was your fave 💔

ynleclerc: @/carla.brocker you are…it’s top secret

username39: I don’t think my heart can take anymore

arthur_leclerc: I guess we all just love you so much 😂

username40: the photo with charles omg

charles_leclerc: what can I say? I adore you little sis ❤️🥰

username41: the love between y/n and charles and lando is the sweetest

landonorris: I’ll happily be one of your favourites if it means getting to spend the rest of my life with you 🌸🧡

arthur_leclerc: @/landonorris 🤮🤮

ynleclerc: @/landonorris I can’t wait for forever with you!!

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liked by ynusername, danielricciardo and 1,492,503 others

landonorris: officially stole your girl…

104,852 comments

charles_leclerc: I will never let you truly steal my little sister 😡

username42: you just can’t help yourself lando 😂

username43: waiting for the day a leclerc knocks lando out lmao

arthur_leclerc: sharing is caring lando norris!

ynleclerc: @/arthur_leclerc im a human not a pizza fyi 🙄

oscarpiastri: you really weren’t lying…mr steal your girl 👏🏻

username44: secretly charles is seething seeing this

alex_albon: that first photo looks like you’ve just been caught out by charles 😂

username45: still my favourite leclerc in the world 🌍

danielricciardo: congrats on cracking the leclercs!!

ynleclerc: you’re lucky I (and my brothers) love you so much 🧡 thank you for the best holiday 🌸

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 ˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[sammakesart]

A blood-splattered annual edition of the suspect quarterly: The Randy Dowager welcomes the new year with the complete romantic—and ribald—epic, Ladykiller in Love, being a tale of betrayal, betrothal, and bloodshed. And those were just the first twenty pages.

The Randy Dowager: Exhibitions for the noble of thought, but spry of step. The Lady herself says: “Quite puts the Orlesian expression “le petite mort” into a new perspective. Five scarves fluttered in shock out of five.” - RD

The back cover reads thus:

Illario is the disgrace of House Dellamorte. After failing in his plot to become First Talon, he never expected to be forgiven by his cousin and new First Talon, Lucanis. Still, Illario knows there will be a price to pay for his betrayal. The last form of penance he ever expected was an arranged marriage to the Second Talon’s only sister, Sancia Balazar, his childhood friend and first love. And a woman he thought he’d never seen again.

Sancia is clever, beautiful, and exceptionally skilled with a variety of deadly weapons—the perfect bride for assassin royalty. By rights, she should be wed to Lucanis, yet it is Illario who she demands. Illario may be incapable of such finer feelings as love now, but he can hardly object to a marriage with Sancia. He might even enjoy it. It is too good to be true, of course. As soon as the contract is signed, Sancia wants nothing to do with him. In fact, she seems to have completely forgotten their youthful infatuation for one another and actively despises him now. Each day—and especially each night—becomes its own special form of torture. This may be the perfect punishment, after all.

[insomniac4000]

Three Peaks-ChrisMD

I had to write this after the video yesterday despite having some requests still in and writing a Charity match fic....

The brisk morning air bit at Chris’s cheeks as he tightened the straps on his hiking backpack. Standing in the shadow of Ben Nevis, the highest peak in Scotland, the mountain loomed like a gray giant, its summit lost in a wisp of cloud. Chris had his hands clasped in front of him as he always did when he did the introductions to his video, addressing the camera ready to capture the beginning of what he hoped would be one of his second channel’s most ambitious videos yet. He was slightly nervous as it was a shift from his usual football content.

“Alright, lads and lady,” Chris called, spinning to face the group with his usual boyish grin. “Let’s get the obligatory intro out of the way before we regret ever agreeing to this.”

“That’s just every ChrisMD video ever,” ArthurTV clapped back causing laughs and jeers from the group, the group being; Harry Lewis who had already taken the role of morale officer, cracking jokes about the group’s preparedness—or lack thereof. Arthur Hill, visibly unsure about what he’d signed up for, leaned heavily on his walking poles, a sheepish smile on his face. ArthurTV and George Clarkeey exchanged knowing glances, already anticipating chaos. ReevHD was characteristically quiet, scanning the trail ahead with determination like he did with every challenge.

And then there was Y/n.

Chris tried not to let his gaze linger on her, but it was impossible not to notice how effortlessly she seemed to fit into the moment. At 5'2", she was dwarfed by the towering peaks around them, but her petite frame radiated confidence. Her auburn curls were tied up in a high pony tail but already a slight bit of frizz was poking out from the tie, showing her imperfections she embarced and her hazel eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and mischief.

“Ready to prove short people can climb mountains too?” Y/n teased, catching Chris’s eye.

“Short people?” Harry cut in with mock horror. “You and Chris barely make one normal-sized person!”

The others burst into laughter as Chris groaned. “Here we go,” he muttered, though he couldn’t help but smile.

“Team Hobbit in full force,” George added, slinging an arm around Chris’s shoulders. “Shire squad, reporting for duty.”

Y/n rolled her eyes but played along, giving Chris a playful nudge. “Come on, Frodo, let’s show them how it’s done.”

The group set off, their boots crunching against the ground. The first leg of the journey was deceptively easy, winding through forests and open meadows. Chris found himself falling into step beside Y/n, their conversation flowing as naturally as the babbling brooks they passed.

“This should be a doddle for you considering your videos,” Chris said, stealing a sideways glance at her. “Any near-death experiences you haven’t told me about yet?”

Y/n chuckled, adjusting her backpack. “Oh, plenty. But I’ll save those stories for when we’re at the summit. You know, motivation to keep climbing.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Chris replied, his smile lingering.

Behind them, Harry and George were already trying to outpace each other, their competitive streaks on full display. Arthur Hill lagged slightly, his breath coming in short gasps.

“You alright back there, Arthur?” Reev called, slowing his pace to check on him.

“Still alive,” Arthur wheezed, earning a round of good-natured laughs.

As the group ascended, the trail grew steeper and more rugged, rocks jutted out at awkward angles.Y/n, used to navigating tricky terrain from her travels, moved with practiced ease, her short legs propelling her upward with surprising speed.

“Alright, we get it,” George said, feigning exasperation as Y/n waited for the rest of them at a particularly steep section. “You’re secretly a mountain goat.”

“Just embrace your inner hobbit,” Y/n shot back, grinning.

“Speaking of hobbits,” Harry said, glancing at Chris, “you keeping up, mate? Or do we need to carry you?”

“Funny,” Chris replied, though he was grateful for the excuse to slow his pace. Y/n waited for him, her expression softening.

“You’re doing great,” she said quietly, her voice carrying only to him.

Chris felt his chest tighten, but he pushed the feeling aside. “Thanks,” he managed, giving her a small smile.

By the time they reached the halfway point, the group was a mix of exhilaration and exhaustion. They paused to refuel, pulling out energy bars and water bottles. The wind whipped around them, colder and more insistent as they climbed higher.

Arthur Hill collapsed onto a rock, his face red but determined. “This is... definitely harder than I thought,” he admitted between gulps of water.

“You’re doing better than I expected,” Y/n encouraged, earning a grateful smile from him.

The teasing eased for a while as the group focused on the gruelling climb. The summit felt tantalizingly close yet maddeningly out of reach as the trail grew steeper and the air thinner. Y/n took the lead, her smaller frame navigating the rocky terrain with agility that left the others scrambling to keep up.

Chris stayed close behind her, his own shorter stature making the climb a little easier compared to the taller guys, who were visibly struggling.

“Bet you’re glad to have another hobbit around now,” Y/n teased over her shoulder, her cheeks flushed from the cold and exertion.

Chris laughed, shaking his head. “Never thought I’d say this, but yeah, maybe it’s not so bad.”

The summit finally came into view, on a good day it probably would have been an incredible view but the British weather was typical and as the group had looked out all they could see was fog. Still though, this was the tallest peak and they were at the top.

“We did it!” Harry yelled, throwing his arms in the air.

Y/n grinned, pulling out her camera to capture the moment. She turned it toward Chris, who was leaning on his trekking pole, looking both exhilarated and exhausted.

“How does it feel to conquer peak one?” she asked, the camera trained on him.

“Cold,” Chris deadpanned, earning a laugh from the group.

They spent a few precious minutes taking in the view, snapping photos, and catching their breath. But the celebration was short-lived as Chris checked his watch.

“We’re behind schedule,” he announced, his tone regretful. “We’ve got to get moving if we’re going to stay on track.”

As they began their descent, the mood remained light despite the ticking clock. The banter continued, with the group teasing Arthur Hill for his earlier struggles and Chris and Y/n for their so-called “hobbit couple” status.

Chris found himself walking beside Y/n again, their shoulders brushing as they navigated the narrow trail.

“Think we’ll survive the next two peaks?” he asked, his tone half-joking.

Y/n glanced at him, her hazel eyes warm. “If you stick with me, Frodo, I think we’ll be alright.”

Chris felt a flicker of hope, small but persistent, that maybe, just maybe, this challenge would lead to more than just a great video.

As the group reached the base of Ben Nevis and prepared to drive to Scafell Pike, the teasing continued, but so did the camaraderie. And for Chris, the chemistry he felt with Y/n was becoming harder to ignore.

Chris adjusted the camera, framing himself in the shadow of Scafell Pike, the tallest mountain in England. The crisp afternoon sunlight bathed the rolling hills of the Lake District, a stark contrast to the biting wind they had endured on Ben Nevis.

"Alright, peak two," Chris’s voiceover rang out. “Quick update: we’ve just finished a very cosy van ride—by cosy, I mean crammed—with practically no leg room. But that wasn’t a problem for two of the members of the group.”

The screen then filled with a picture of Chris and Y/n squeezed into a corner of the van, her head resting sleepily on his shoulder while they both grinned. Their legs, stretched toward the camera, showed just how much space the pair had, still having some room to swing their smaller legs, in stark contrast to the rest of the group.

The video then continued and now it showed the group gathered around, fastening their jackets and strapping on their backpacks. Harry stretched dramatically, groaning about his sore legs, while George filmed Arthur Hill struggling to zip his jacket.

"You alright there, mate?" George teased.

"Not really," Arthur Hill admitted, but his grin betrayed his determination to keep going.

As they started the climb, the monumental task settled on everyone once again, time was ticking away from them. The steep incline and rocky path demanded focus, and the chatter from the Ben Nevis climb faded into heavy breaths and occasional bursts of laughter. Y/n, as usual, took the lead, her smaller frame navigating the terrain with ease. Chris stuck close to her, their steps often falling into sync.

It wasn’t long until Arthur Hill faltered, wincing as he leaned against his trekking pole.

"Hold up," Reev called, motioning for the group to stop. "Arthur, you good?"

Arthur shook his head. "I’ve got an old injury and it was worse yesterday, I work up this morning thinking that I was okay but it’s really not good at all,” the musician whined a little, he was well aware he was the one who was slowing everyone down and he was in a considering amount of pain now too.

The group exchanged concerned glances.

"Are you going to sit this one out?" Chris said gently, resting a hand on Arthur’s shoulder.

Arthur hesitated, his face a mix of frustration and relief. "Yeah, I think I have to."

They helped him set up a small camp just off the path, ensuring he had water, snacks, and a comfortable spot to rest.

"Don’t worry about me," Arthur said, waving them off. "I’ll cheer you on from here. Just make sure to take loads of embarrassing photos for me to miss out on."

With a final round of reassurances, the group continued upward, joking at Arthur’s position as he laid still on the grass by a rock. As the group continued the summit grew closer with every step. Chris felt his chest tighten, but this time it wasn’t just the exertion.

His parents were waiting at the top.

They had moved to the Lake District from Jersey recently, and while he loved seeing them, introducing them to his friends—especially Y/n—brought a mix of excitement and nerves.

As they reached the peak George and ArthurTV tried to lighten the mood and keep morale up by making jokes about Chris’s mother.

When the group finally crested the summit, they were greeted by Chris’s mum and dad, both bundled in warm coats and waving enthusiastically.

Harry and ArthurTV greeted Chris’s parents like old friends, their laughter and inside jokes echoing across the mountaintop. Y/n, however, hung back, fidgeting with her gloves wondering why she felt so nervous, Chris was only a friend.

Chris noticed and leaned closer to her. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Y/n said quickly, though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. "I just… don’t want to make a bad impression."

Chris chuckled. "You’ve got nothing to worry about. They’ll love you."

As if to prove his point, his mum approached Y/n with open arms. "You must be Y/n," she said warmly. "Chris has told us so much about you."

Y/n’s cheeks flushed, but she returned the hug. "All good things, I hope."

"Of course," Chris’s mum replied with a wink.

To Y/n’s relief, the conversation flowed naturally. She found herself laughing with Chris’s parents, sharing stories about her travels and listening to tales from their new life in the Lake District.

"You’ve got a good group here," Chris’s dad said, clapping him on the back.

"The best," Chris agreed, his gaze flicking to Y/n.

After a round of photos and a quick snack break, they began their descent. The steep path required concentration, but Chris took the opportunity to start a conversation he’d been mulling over for weeks.

The voiceover took over again, this time the tone changing to a more serious one as Chris explained he wanted to do more videos talking about mental health he explained his struggles with anxiety for years, ruminating thoughts, intrusive stuff but also what had helped him try and get through it so he was now in a much better place. One by one he spoke to each of his friends about mental health, opening up to each other and it was a change of pace from their usual jokes and banter.

Y/n was someone who had also been very opened about her mental health and their conversation could have lasted for days.

Y/n, walking beside Chris, glanced at him thoughtfully. "How different is it for men, though?" she asked. "I mean, society’s expectations and all that."

Chris paused, considering her question. "It’s hard. There’s this pressure to be… strong, or like, unemotional. But that’s changing. Slowly. What about you? You’ve been really open about your journey, haven’t you?"

Y/n nodded, adjusting her grip on her trekking pole. "I try to be. It’s not easy, though. There’s still so much stigma. But I think the more we talk about it, the more we help people feel less alone."

Chris smiled at her. "You’ve helped me, you know. Just by being so honest."

Y/n’s cheeks turned pink, and she looked away. "You’ve helped me too."

Their conversation was interrupted when Y/n’s foot slipped on a loose rock. She gasped, her arms flailing, but Chris caught her hand just in time.

"You alright?" he asked, steadying her.

"Yeah, just my dignity taking a hit," she said, laughing as she regained her balance.

Chris didn’t let go of her hand right away, and when he did, it was with a lingering warmth that neither of them acknowledged.

The rest of the descent was filled with lighter conversations, the group joking about their shared exhaustion and Arthur Hill’s missed summit.

As they reached the base of Scafell Pike, Chris felt a renewed sense of purpose. Two peaks down, one to go. They had decided that twenty four hours was now long gone but they were going to enjoy the journey for what it is.

The glow of determination fueled the group as they loaded into the van, but the energy from the morning had shifted. Arthur Hill, sitting on a bench with his leg propped up and wrapped in a bandage, waved them off with Harry by his side.

"Be safe!" Arthur called. "And don’t forget to take a victory photo at the top of Snowdon—preferably one where Jamie doesn’t look like he’s about to pass out!"

Jamie, who had also been struggling a little shot him a mock glare.

With the group a little smaller now, the drive to Snowdonia was quieter. Chris glanced back at Y/n, who had claimed the backseat corner. Her head leaned against the window, her auburn curls falling softly over her face as she watched the scenery blur into darkness.

“You alright back there, Y/n?” Chris asked, his voice low.

She turned and smiled, though it was softer than usual. “Yeah, just thinking about how this’ll feel tomorrow when my legs refuse to work.”

The van erupted into knowing laughter.

 “This isn’t about the time,” Chris said as they stretched at the base of the mountain, the cold night air biting at their exposed skin. “It’s about finishing what we started.”

Y/n gave him an approving nod. “That’s what it’s all about. Let’s do it.”

The climb up Snowdon was quieter than the others, the fatigue settling deep in their muscles. The darkness added a layer of challenge, with headlamps and flashlights casting eerie shadows across the rocky path.

“Watch your step,” Reev warned as they navigated a narrow ridge.

There were a few stumbles—George slipping onto his hands and knees, ArthurTV catching himself on a low rock—but no injuries. Every so often, the group paused, catching their breath and sipping water, their chatter growing lighter with every stop.

At last, the summit came into view. The cold wind whipped around them as they reached the peak, and for a moment, no one said a word.

Then Reev broke the silence. “We actually did it.”

“Almost,” Chris corrected. “We still have to get down.”

���Oh, don’t ruin the moment,” Y/n teased, nudging him lightly.

The group broke into hugs, laughing through their exhaustion as they celebrated. Chris lingered in Y/n’s embrace, feeling the warmth of her against the cold air.

Someone snapped a photo, capturing their silhouettes against the starry sky.

The descent was slow and careful especially as night was falling now and torches were failing. The rocks, slick with evening dew, made each step treacherous. Y/n stuck close to Chris, their headlamps bobbing in unison as they navigated the terrain.

“I don’t know how you talked me into this,” Y/n joked, her voice hushed in the quiet of the night.

“You’re the challenge queen,” Chris replied. “I thought this would be your idea of fun.”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “I usually have better planning, fewer risks of breaking an ankle in the dark.”

Chris smiled but noticed her pensive expression. “You okay?”

Y/n hesitated before answering. “Yeah. I just… I’ve been thinking a lot on this trip. About where I’m going, what I want. It’s hard not to when you’re staring down mountains, you know?”

“I get that,” Chris said, his voice thoughtful. “Climbing a mountain does have a way of putting things in perspective.”

They walked in silence for a moment before Y/n continued. “I’ve been doing YouTube for over a decade. I love it, but sometimes I wonder if I’m just… running away from things by traveling so much. Like, maybe if I stop, I’ll have to face everything I’ve been avoiding.”

Chris’s chest tightened at her honesty. “I don’t think you’re running away,” he said softly. “I think you’re just searching for what makes you happy. And that’s not a bad thing.”

Y/n looked at him, her hazel eyes reflecting the beam of his headlamp. “You really think that?”

“Yeah, I do,” Chris replied. “You’ve inspired so many people—including me. You’ve got this way of making even the toughest situations seem like an adventure.”

Y/n smiled, a genuine, heartfelt expression that made Chris’s stomach flip. “Thanks, Chris. That means a lot.”

They walked a little further before Y/n asked, “What about you? What are you searching for?”

Chris exhaled, his breath visible in the cold air. “Honestly? I’m not sure. I’ve spent so much time focusing on work, on videos, that I’ve kind of lost sight of what’s next. But being here, with you guys, it reminds me of what’s important. It’s not just about the videos or the views—it’s about the connections we make along the way.”

Y/n reached out, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “That’s a good answer.”

Chris chuckled, his heart racing at the contact. “Glad you approve.”

As they continued down the mountain, Chris couldn’t help but glance at Y/n every so often. She looked tired but content, her curls glowing faintly in the moonlight. Chris couldn’t help but think this trip was very special for a multitude for reasons.

In the comments, viewers had plenty to say.

“Y/n and Chris definitely have something going on. The chemistry is undeniable!” “Chris catching Y/n when she slipped? Literal couple goals.” “The ‘hobbit couple’ strikes again! Just admit you’re perfect for each other already.” “Loved the mental health chat. So important to hear men like Chris opening up. Thanks for this, mate.”

Chris scrolled through the comments later that night, a smile tugging at his lips. He glanced at his phone, debating whether to message Y/n.

Before he could decide, his phone buzzed with a message from her.

Y/n: “Can’t believe we actually did it. Thanks for being my rock on the trip. (Haha get it?) 😊”

Chris grinned, his fingers hovering over the keyboard before typing a response.

Chris: “That was awful, but really couldn’t have done it without you. Hobbit squad for life. 🏔️”

Chris bit his lip as he then typed out the message “Dinner?” three times before deleting it each time. Something had changed in him one day but was he ready for another challenge?

[just-a-ghost00]

All I want for Christmas…

Ever wondered is someone was desperately wishing to kiss you under the mistletoe? Well, here is your chance to find out. This reading is mainly meant for singles, whether you have someone in mind or not. But of course nothing forbids you from reading this PAC if you’re already in a relationship with someone, especially if this person is not by your side currently and you want to see if they miss you as much as you do.

Group 1

Overall energy | 10 of swords rx, knight of cups, 7 of wands

You may be in a no contact situation with the person we are talking about. This is someone that has a hard time moving on from their past but that also could have a hard time accepting the situation you are currently in. It feels like there has been a disconnect between you and/or you have conflicting views about the connection. Despite this misunderstanding and possible argument, this person holds a lot of affection for you and wishes to express their feelings for you. This is a person that feels grateful for your presence in their life because you came in at a time when they were struggling and supported them in this difficult cycle. You could be feeling the same towards this person. This is someone that, despite the disconnect, still wishes to fight for the connection and prove they care about you. They may be attached to you and the support you were providing them with.

Physical traits | 5 of wands, 8 of swords, 9 of swords, queen of cups rx

This is someone that may be a bit out of shape. They look stressed out and tired. So they may have eye bags, grey hairs. They may lose their hair often. They have long hair. They could have bad eyesight so they may wear glasses or contact lenses. They may squint their eyes a lot. They look wary or constantly on their guards. They may hunch their back a lot or have a slumped position. They may look sleepy or like their mind is elsewhere. Their eyes are glossy, watery. They could be petite. They have a very discreet style. This person doesn't put a lot of effort into their appearance. They wear very practical and simple clothes. Dull colors. They have an appearance that doesn't stand out that much. Like they blend in the crowds. They may wear a lot of skirts and dresses. I'm picking up on modest wear, old school fashion. A bit of a gloomy vibe. The type of wear that people would have worn to Church a long time ago. They look like they are not comfortable in their skin. So maybe they wear clothes that don't fit them or don't reflect their true style/essence.

Confirmation signs | Queen of wands, ace of cups, Judgement, Queen of pentacles, The Magician

This could be someone that is of the same gender as you are. This could resonate with you if you are a member of or an ally of the LGBTQIA+ community. This could be someone that you confessed to but rejected you in the past. In terms of zodiac signs, we have Leo, Taurus, Gemini that are coming up, as well as Scorpio and maybe a bit of Libra. This could be someone that is trying to manifest you. This could be a person that you met through dating apps. This could be someone that you met either during the Summer or Fall of any year. The numbers 1, 6 and 20 can be significant. So if we take those as possible dates or time frames, we have January 6 / June 1, the 20th of any month, the years 2001/2006/2020. This person can be of the same age as you or if there's an age gap, the gap is quite small. This can be a person that is a bit of a smooth talker.

Group 2

Overall energy | 10 of wands, 3 of swords, 6 of cups

This is a person that is going through a difficult phase in their life. They could be a childhood/teenage years friend of yours. This person has a lot of weight on their shoulders. They may be doing a job that asks of them a lot of sacrifice and sense of responsibility. They could be a single parent. This could be someone that you recently broke up with. Again, I get a no contact vibe from this group. This person is feeling extremely sad. This may be because they feel betrayed in the situation or deeply affected by the fact that things didn't work out between you despite their genuine feelings. This is a person that possibly viewed you as a soulmate and they are now reminiscing about the past when it comes to you. They miss you dearly and I feel like they are defeated. If you know this person, you may not suspect that they are so affected by whatever happened. This may be a person that tends to wear masks as to hide their vulnerability, especially in front of the people they like.

Physical traits | 8 of cups, 5 of cups, 6 of pentacles rx, ace of wands

I get sad boy/ girl energy from this person. They have a rather round face, watery puppy eyes. An upside down smile or some sort of happy/unhappy frown. They look very soft and fragile. Like a doll. Their skin is very pale. Like they don't see the light of day kind of feeling as they spend most of their time indoors, crying over the loss of your connection. They may be a bit out of shape especially around the face. They could have puffy eyes, puffy cheeks. They body looks tense, agitated. They appear as clumsy, messy, hasty. If they have bangs, they could let it grow to the point where it hides their eyes. Kind of an emo vibe, if that is still a thing. Again, this is a person that wears rather dull colored clothes. Clothes that are oversized and kinda make them look like a ghost. Long sleeved shirts and t-shirts, hoodies, stuff like that. I get also a bit of a neglected but trendy look. Like, even if this person isn't at their best, they still kinda want to look good. Like "sappy is the new sexy" kind of vibe. I also get a siren vibe from them. So they may enhance their eyes specifically. Like wearing big glasses or putting a lot of eyeliner, long eyelashes, wearing color changing contacts. With the ace of wands, I feel like there may be little details in their appearance that may give people the idea that they can burst any time. Kinda like they're on edge. Also, this person could be particularly tall and skinny.

Confirmation signs | 6 of wands, Empress, 7 of cups, King of cups, Magician

In terms of zodiac signs, we have Leo, Taurus, Scorpio, Gemini, Pisces. For numbers, we have 6/3/7/1. So this could relate to the months of June, July, March and January. This could also relate to dates such as the 6th, 3rd, 7th or 1st of any month. We have dates like June 3, March 6, July 1, January 7, March 7, July 3, June 7, July 6, June 1, January 6, January 3, March 1. This person could be older than you or have a higher status. This is a person that despite their current emotional state, is pretty successful academically, professionally, financially. You could have met this person at a party or celebration of some sort. This could be someone that is flirty, entertains several relationships and/or has several projects they are working on on the side. They are a good manifestor. You could have felt like this person was a wish come true for you when you met them. They may own a pet for some, like a little bird. They could like horses. This person could live at a distance from you.

Group 3

Overall energy | 9 of pentacles, 10 of pentacles, 3 of pentacles, 10 of wands, 3 of cups

When it comes to zodiac signs, the cards highlight Earth signs, especially Taurus, as well as Leo and Pisces. The numbers 3 and 10 seem to be significant. So those could pertain to the months of March and October, or the 3rd / 10th of any month. We have the energy here of someone that is very busy with their work and material aspects of their life. This could be someone that you know through work/school. For some of you, this person can be a friend. Either this person has a secret crush on you or vice versa. For some of you this is a friendship that is bordering on becoming a romantic connection. They could come from a well established family. This is someone that is dealing with a lot of responsibilities, either because they are living alone (especially if they're a student) or because they are a single parent for some. This is a person that is very hardworking and may currently spend most of their time either stuck at home or working. They like to relieve stress by spending time with a few friends they trust or connecting with their siblings. This person could be a teacher.

Physical traits | Temperance, 6 of swords, Devil, Hermit, Fool

First of all, I have to point out that pretty much all cards are major arcanas. So there's something to this person's vibe and aura that is just huge. No matter their body shape or look, this person remains imposing and impressive to a lot of people. They always leave a strong impression, whether people like them or not. They have long hair that are likely to be dark. They appear as very feminine in nature. So either this person is a woman or could identify as such. They have soft but striking features. They could have a bit of a tanned skin. They could be hispanic or North African, Mediterranean overall. This person could have eyesight issues. Their body structure is quite balanced. I feel like this person blends well in a crowd, they tend to be discreet but if you take time to look at them you can be struck by their beauty. This is a person that has a very natural beauty. They barely wear makeup, they have never undergone any aesthetical surgery, they have no tattoo nor piercings. Yet, they are extremely sensual in nature. They may have a bit of a naive look. Like their head is constantly in the clouds. This could be someone that tends to look at their feet or up in the air, but never directly at people. They give off a bit of a loner vibe. I feel like their fashion style is very simple but it looks very good on them and adds to their allure. This person is charming by default just because of their energy. This is a person that may look very basic on the outside but is incredibly attractive and beautiful on the inside, because of their mentality and the values they cultivate. They may wear their headphones/earphones quite a lot.

Confirmation signs | 6 of pentacles, Justice, 7 of swords, 8 of pentacles, White Numen

Zodiac signs : Taurus again, Scorpio and Libra. Numbers 6, 7, 8, 9 could be pertaining to months from June to September. Possible dates could include June 7, July 6, August 9, September 8 among other possibilities. This is a person that you may interact with through social media. You may not know this person very well. Meaning, you've never met in person. This is someone that you could stalk and/or someone that stalks you. You may have had a disagreement with this person. They are currently focused on their work and this may be one of the reasons you are not in contact with them. This could be someone that you have common passions with or work on similar projects with. This person is generous. They may have given you money or they frequently donate to charity. They could work for the government. This is someone that is constantly on the go.

[storiesbyrhi]

Part One: A building gets torched

Eddie Munson x Reader Series Masterlist 1710 Words

If the people we love are stolen from us, the way to have them live on is to never stop loving them. Buildings burn, people die, but real love is forever.

Warnings: canon typical violence, references to sexual assault, swearing, drug and alcohol use, sexual references, child neglect, death/grief, references to organised crime

Note: A majority of the characters from The Crow have been replaced with Stranger Things counterparts. However, a few remain in their original form (e.g. Gideon, Grange). Some major characters have been written out, as they don’t work within the context of this story (e.g. Myca – who is one of my favourite characters). I have taken material, including direct quotes, from the film and comics/graphic novel.

After Sunset, October 30, 1994

Jim Hopper stood next to the broken window. He’d been there before. He recalled how he felt when he first saw that window. How its grand scale and clean glasswork made the rest of the ratty apartment seem worth it. The window framed the city in a way that made it seem almost beautiful. Almost.

That had been a couple months before Devil’s Night. There had been whispers that the building was going to be sold off. Hopper hoped it was true. Maybe a new developer would demolish the place. He didn’t want to think about how many ghosts haunted those walls. Between the overdoses and the organised crime related violence, a lot of trips to the morgue began there.

Unfortunately, the buyer was not the up and up real estate type. Hopper heard it was more of the top of the bad guy hierarchy type. Martin Brenner owned half the city and not by any legal or ethical means. In the police files, intel on him was filed under the codename Top Dollar, like even the cops were too scared to put their name to anything that could be used against him.

 When Hopper caught wind of that, he’d paid the apartment a visit – paid you a visit.

“You gotta cool it with this stuff,” he’d warned, gesturing to where you’d been working on a new petition for everyone to sign.

“You’ve never told me to cool it before. Never shown up at my home before,”

“Before when you were feeding the homeless? Helping little old ladies cross the road? This is different. Come on, kid. Don’t play dumb.”

You sighed, but it sounded more like a huff. It hadn’t been feeding the homeless. You’d fundraised to keep the local community kitchen from shutting its doors. And, there had never been little old ladies. Maybe little old raccoons and opossums you’d built little wooden houses for…

Hopper shifted on the spot. “Look… I know you’re tryin’ to the right thing… I know you don’t want to have to move-”

“It’s not about moving. It’s about-”

“The principle, I know,” Hopper interrupted you right back. “I know. But the guy who’s eyeing the place, you don’t wanna mess around with him.”

Even then, you knew Hopper was right. You knew what you were doing was potentially dangerous. Brenner’s name had been mentioned to you before Hopper came knocking. But you were stubborn.

“How’s he even doing this? It can’t be legal. Probably paid off Kline, right?”

Hopper cringed at the name Kline. Larry Kline was the elected official who should have been fighting for the city. Instead, he was lining his pockets with Brenner-shaped coins.

“Eddie know you’re doing this?” Hopper changed tactics. There were three giveaways that Eddie was probably on tour. The first was how quiet the apartment was. The second was the lack of guitars on the wall hooks. The third was that Gabriel, a fluffy white cat, was asleep on the couch. Gabriel only sought the company of others when Eddie wasn’t an option, even though he was technically a birthday present for you.

You bit down on your tongue. “I don’t keep secrets from Eddie,”

“Right, but… Might you have conveniently forgotten to mention who wants to buy the building? Who you’re starting a fight with?”

The conversation had ended with a vague promise that you’d maybe consider ‘cooling it.’ Hopper had left that night uneasy. He never got around to tracking a phone number for Eddie out on the road. Knowing Eddie, which he only kind of did anyway, he’d never tell you to stop doing anything. That man worshipped the ground you walked on.

Hopper stood at the broken window and held a cigarette between his teeth. He looked down to the street below, Eddie’s body being covered with a crime scene sheet while onlookers scrambled to see the carnage.

Behind him, crime scene techs and cops buzzed about the apartment. He turned to survey the scene. The photos on the wall told a story of love. His brain tried to reconcile how you looked in them, compared to how you looked lying on the apartment floor covered in blood. The paramedics were still working on stabilising you, you clinging to life by your fingernails.

Hopper gave the okay to move you while he picked up a thick piece of card off the floor. A wedding invitation for the following day – a sunset event.

“Who the fuck gets married on Halloween anyhow?” one of the cops asked, staring at the mannequin keeping your wedding dress company.

Hopper didn’t answer. He listened to their commentary.

“What’s the count so far?” a rookie questioned.

“143 fires so far… They’re slacking off from last year,”

“Three hours to go; maybe they’re just slow starters.”

Hopper followed the paramedics as they took you downstairs and out to the ambulance. Another detective was there. Detective being a very generous title, as most of the work Phil Callahan was capable of was not of the sleuthing variety.

“This the victim?” he asked.

 “No, it’s Amelia Earhart. We found her, Detective, and you missed it,” Hopper deadpanned.

Before Callahan could come up with something witty to say, Hopper was back at your side. A girl on a skateboard had appeared, pulling at your sleeve.

“Stand back, kid,” he said.

It was Max’s voice that dragged you somewhere close to Earth. “Where’s Eddie?” you croaked.

“Ah… Don’t worry about him,” Hopper told you.

“Tell him to take care of Max.”

Paramedics had you loaded up, closing the back of the ambulance. Hopper stood next to Max for a moment before putting a hand on her shoulder.

“You Max?”

“Yeah,”

“Okay, look… Your sister… She’s gonna be okay,”

“She’s not my sister. She just takes care of me… She’s my friend. Her and Eddie… You lied to her about Eddie.” Max sounded more sad than accusatory.

“I had to,”

“And you’re lying to me about her. She’s gonna die, isn’t she?”

Hopper could deal with a lot of things. A grief-stricken teenage girl was not one of them. He clasped both of her shoulders and held her, looking around the scene with a growing understanding that the misery had only just begun.  

One Year Later After Sunset, October 29, 1995

Max visited the cemetery often. She’d walk along the rows, taking one flower from each bouquet she passed. By the time she was standing in front of the matching graves, she had an offering. One white rose for Eddie, the rest for you.

Losing you and Eddie was bad, but the months since had been worse. Her mother had all but resigned from that role, spending more and more time wherever Neil and Billy Hargrove went. Max hardly saw Susan anymore. The Hargroves, and the people like them, were terrifying.

Max sat down facing the headstones. “I found another one,” she said. “It says that people used to believe that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead.”

In the weeks after that Halloween, Max obsessed over the science of death. She wanted to know how you and Eddie had felt. What would happen to your bodies, buried under all that dirt? Then, once she knew everything there was to know, she moved on to folklore. What stories had been told about dying? What existed beyond the veil?

“The thing though, is that if the person dies unfairly, if something so bad happens, then that is carried with the soul. The sadness. And the soul can’t rest.”

Max had contemplated magic. She saw a Ouija board put out by the trash cans outside her apartment building and seriously considered taking it inside. Her research had slowly veered into the direction of revenge-driven resurrection, for which many cultures had legends and fables of.

“Sometimes the crow can bring that soul back, to put the wrong things right.”  She paused, looking down and pushing the dirt around with a stick. Max shrugged to herself. “I know it’s a fairytale… But it would be nice…”

Thunder rumbled above Max. After gathering her things, she began to walk away. A crow swooped down, landing on Eddie’s headstone. She was sure it was the same one that always hung around the cemetery; she’d named him The Night Watchman.

“Keep an eye on them for me,” she told him, dropping her skateboard and riding off into the drizzling rain.

It was fear first. Terror. Darkness.

He tried to draw a breath in but it didn’t provide any relief. Something told him to get up. Get out. A voice. A voice in his head. Get up. Get out. But get up and get out of what? He thrashed but all his limbs hit solid wall.

Punching, punching, punching. When he finally broke through the coffin’s lid, his knuckles were raw and bleeding. He dug, splitting nails and swallowing dirt. He reached the surface, pulling himself from his grave.

His body couldn’t decide between curling up or being splayed out on his back. It couldn’t decide between screaming or sobbing. He was twitchy and achy. His knuckles had scabbed and scarred. He’d healed but the healing hurt.

At first, he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know who he was.

A crow landed on an overhead branch. It called to the man, a deep and piercing caw. It was there to guide him. It was there to bear witness. It was there to share the burden of the second life of Eddie Munson.

Eddie knew to follow the crow. He knew the crow would take him to where he wanted to go. It would take him to you.

He stumbled, pulling himself through the cemetery and out into the city. Nobody noticed him weaving through alleyways and stalking shadows. He pulled at his burial clothes, hands running over the bullet hole scars on his body.

Eddie’s bare feet walked through filthy puddles and over crumbling asphalt. He only stopped when the crow landed on a dumpster, squawking.  Something dark was sitting on top of the trash. Old worker’s boots, too small for Eddie, but he put them on anyway. He stomped onwards.

End Note:

Thank you to the love of my life @jo-harrington for brainstorming and editing help, and for general support and hype girl shit.

The process of writing this series has been a bit of an isolated one, compared to past work. So, I don't know how it will be received. I am more unsure about it than I have been about my other stuff too. Any feedback would be immensely appreciated.

Happy New Year, xo Rhi

Fic Taglist (open): @mrsjellymunson @princesssunderworld @qweencrimson @b-irock @writinginthetwilight @bornslippys @ali-r3n @lexr86

All Eddie Taglist (open):solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes  @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob  @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel @dashingdeb16 @cultish-corner @em0220

[legobiwan]

For the drabble prompt list

"none of this is your fault" mario and luigi

Drabbles, they said, Ha! I answered. Anyway, I have no idea where this came from, but enjoy this barely-edited not-drabble. I am apparently incapable of concise writing right now :D

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“None of this is your fault, Lou.”

Luigi scoffed, pushing dampened sleeves up both arms, smearing dark, sweaty grease across his skin in wide, impressionistic lines.

“You tell that to Toadsworth in three days. I’m sure he’ll be happy to believe you,” Luigi groused, tightening a stubborn, thick bolt with a violent twist. That should keep the engine boosters from flying off at speeds exceeding thirty miles an hour. (Or as they were counted in the Mushroom Kingdom, five hundred and two mycelia per second, a measuring system so opaque - and infuriating - that Luigi had sat through an entire five-hour Toad Council meeting just so he could petition the government to introduce a bill to launch a public vote on switching to any other quantifier that made a modicum of sense. The notion, of course, was voted down in a manner of seconds. Tradition, Mister Luigi, Toadsworth had sniffed, rapping his long-handled gavel with an imperious gesture, closing off all debate on the matter).

Snobby old toad could stuff it up his spore holes.

“He’ll get over it,” Mario said. “What’s he going to do, anyway? Make us sit through another boring state dinner?”

Luigi poked at a serpentine belt that resembled some slices of old cheese he once found in the back of their fridge in Brooklyn. How these guys managed to stay competitive with equipment in this condition was a complete slap in the face to basic physics.

“You like those dinners.” Luigi crawled out from under the dented chassis, sitting back on his haunches as he gestured at his brother with a ratchet-wrench, making curly patterns in the air as if he were a Magikoopa casting a spell.

“I hate those dinners as much as you. They’re hot, stuffy, and the food is an insult to the entirety of Brooklyn. It’s not my fault I get to sit next to Peach and you’re always stuck with Lady Maitake and her hundreds of onion bulb-pup photos for two hours.”

“Don’t remind me. Did you know she’s trying to train them to do circus acts and take them on the road?” Luigi ran a finger down one of the dusty schematics strewn about the stone floor. “Hand me that spanner, will you?”

Mario shook his head, chuckling, handing off the hooked tool to Luigi, who shimmied once more underneath the maroon-and-black kart. “Look, you got hoodwinked into a bad contract. I should have looked over the fine print before you signed.”

“You’re not my keeper, Mario,” Luigi grumbled, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. “And it’s not even the contract that I care about. Frankly, I’m impressed Bowser��s been able to get these things to do anything beyond cough up smoke and crash into the nearest palm tree. It’s a good challenge to get them running again.”

“So what’s the issue, then?”

Luigi stilled, his hands guts-deep in a mess of wiring and cables that looked like an earthworm graveyard. After a moment, he sighed, letting the spanner tool clatter to the floor with a bright, metallic jangle. 

“The issue,” he began, staring up at the internal electronic system of one of Bowser’s so-called best racing karts. “Is that he’s probably going to win. Bowser, that is. And everyone will make nice about it at the awards ceremony and Bowser will get too drunk on elderflower wine and get kicked out of the post-race party.”

“That happens every race, Lou.”

“Yeah, but you know Bowser. He’ll let it slip that I was the one doing repairs on his karts. And then in the morning, there will be a meeting. And Toadsworth will go on about the standing of the Kingdom being compromised and it being a diplomatic catastrophe that we allowed Bowser to win and that,” Luigi adopted a whiny, pompous voice. “Mr. Luigi has once again strained his credibility within the Mushroom Kingdom.” 

“Look, that stodgy old Toad has no chance of making those charges stick. You were exonerated, Weeg. Nothing that happened with Bleck - “ Mario clenched his fists, hissing through his teeth. “Nothing that happened in that place was you. That wasn’t your fault, and neither is this.”

Luigi reached towards one of the dangling battery coils, playing with the violet and yellow wires between his fingers. “Sure,” he breathed. “Not me.”

“Not you,” Mario insisted, his voice steely. “And besides,” he continued, a hint of humor creeping into his words. If you’re so concerned about Toadsworth, why don’t you sabotage Bowser’s fleet?”

Luigi pushed himself out from under the kart, snapping up to a seat in wide-eyed horror.

“And ruin my reputation as an engineer? No way, bro. I’ll risk the treason charges, thank you very much.”

Mario guffawed, ambling over to take a seat next to his brother, the two coming shoulder-to-shoulder, backs set against the passenger door of the Koopa Coupe. “I think your reputation is beyond reproach, Lou.” Mario gave a small, uncertain smile. “After all, you did build two killer robots in the span of two weeks.”

It was a huge step forward, just being able to talk about the whole incident in Flipside, no less joke about it - the ordeal with Bleck and the jester and Luigi’s brainwashing. Mario had stayed tight-lipped about the entire debacle for weeks after they had gotten back, much to Luigi’s aggravation, until things came to a head one night due to a series of ill-conceived plans on the part of the Toad Council, the most brazen of which featured a misserved cup of tea laced with a dubiously legal truth potion.

Luigi sniffed out half a chuckle, nudging his brother in the shoulder. “Well, I can’t let Bowser think I’m slipping, right?”

Mario eyed his brother carefully, his features brightening as he caught the note of mischief in Luigi’s voice. Grinning, he clapped his brother on the knee. “You’ve got an idea, don’t you? The Old Koopa King doesn’t know what he’s got coming.”

Luigi straightened, composing himself into the picture of innocence. “Dear brother, I am a man of my word. Bowser will win the race, just like the contract stipulates.”

“And?”

“Aaand,” Luigi drew out the word, schematics and thermodynamic equations taking shape in his mind. “Let’s say the engine modifications I’m making happen to engage a set of rocket boosters at a certain speed threshold. Bowser’ll like that. But then maybe the activation of those boosters, given a certain location and time input, temporarily cede control of the brakes and steering to a pre-programmed route of the engineer’s choosing.” Luigi paused for dramatic effect. “All after the race is finished, of course. No injuries. No harm. Just a little post-race joyride through the forest.”

Mario gave a joyous whoop, bringing his brother into a tight, side-hug. “They’ll hear him screaming all the way in Rogueport! Ha! You know he’ll threaten to invade during the after-party! No one will care if you worked on his kart once he shows back up breathing smoke!”

“He’ll do that regardless,” Luigi laughed, feeling lighter than he had in weeks. “But you know how these modifications are. Always a chance of overburdening your circuits.”

“And at least it’ll be a while before he tries to trick you into doing his dirty work again,” Mario added.

“I hope so.” Luigi placed a warm hand on his brother’s shoulder, smiling. “Thanks, Mario.”

Mario beamed back at his brother, playfully flicking the brim of Luigi’s hat. “Come on, Lou. Show me how to build a sentient robot race kart.”

~~~~~

Drabble writing challenge: Make me sweat!

[steve-faglan]

Cat // Mouse

Reader x Steve Raglan (William Afton)

TW: NON CON!! DUB CON!! DRUGGING!! HE'S MEAN!!!!!!!!!

SUMMARY: You get a job working for an old man you want to fuck. Are you misreading things? Where did that vibrator come from?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Is this considered a slow burn? It felt slow to write. It's supposed to be like will they? Won't they? But it's... Well yeah. Look at this gif??????? My PUSSSY????????

WORD COUNT: so many.

Daddy issues. At least, that's what they call it. That's what your ex screamed at you about before he left you in a state thousands of miles from the one you were raised in. He said it was because you made him feel immature; less than. But maybe he was. All he ever wanted to do was drink and play video games, you craved more.

After he left, you realized you'd have to get a better paying job to cover the portion of rent your ex was paying. You take a day to really let it settle in. You cry and drink an entire bottle of wine while watching Dirty Dancing, and then you schedule a meeting with a local career counselor.

You sigh as you hang up the phone. It's embarrassing to need a temp agency's help finding employment, but you're new to this area. You don't know anyone and you're barely sure where to start.

Your alarm blares throughout your room, startling you awake. You barely remember falling asleep at all, and somehow, it feels like you couldn't have possibly slept enough. You're sluggish and groggy, but you still find the energy to get ready for your interview. You're hoping a little extra effort will get you further in a small town like this, so you spend a little more time on your makeup before heading out of the house.

The drive across town to the agency is quick and easy. You pull into the parking lot and emerge from your car, shielding your eyes from the sun to read the rickety sign that's hanging on for dear life outside the building. You huff, unsure if this was the best place to go looking for higher-paying work. When you step inside the door, a petite old lady greets you with a smile. She points to an office down the hall and tells you to knock.

*Knock, knock, knock.*

You push the unlatched door open slightly and a warm voice invites you in.

"Come in, have a seat." The man instructs. You scan over his office. It's dated, and decorated with styles reminiscent of corporate America in the 80's. You read the name tag on his desk, Steve Raglan. You take a seat in one of the muted yellow chairs opposite Steve and await his introduction.

"Steve," he extends an arm over the desk and you shake his hand, telling him your name.

"Thanks for having me, Mr. Raglan. I'm new to town, well, new to the entire coast, really."

"Wow, a little far from home, aren't we?" Steve chuckles kindly, smiling with a tightly closed mouth, spreading his mustache across his lip.

"You have no idea," you laugh exhaustedly and Steve tilts his head as if he's pondering something, but he doesn't mention it. "Anyways, here's my resume. It's not much, but uh..." You hand him a folder with your work history document professionally stored inside. Steve happily takes the folder and begins to read through your papers.

Your resume is impressive. You're well educated with a strong work streak. Your work ethic stands out to him. He's reading through your accomplishments aloud, commending each one. You're unsure why, but his praise fills you with a very specific need. You crave more and something in you tells you that you'd do almost anything to get it.

"A course in robotic engineering?" Steve's voice sounds surprised. He looks up at you with raised eyebrows. A grin spreads across his bearded face. "Huh."

"Yeah, I actually took a few courses. I never did anything with it though."

"Do you remember a lot from those classes?" He sets the closed folder to the side and casually places other papers on top of it, distracting you enough to keep you from asking for it back.

"Oh, sure. Mostly coding, I guess." You shrug.

"Coding." He repeats to himself, nodding knowingly. He can think of a million places in this town that could use a smart, pretty little thing like you. A strained silence grows for just a moment before he speaks again. "Well, Y/N. I think I have an offer for you, but it's not much of a pay raise like you'd hoped."

"What is it?" You ask, hoping for at least a dollar difference.

"Did you see Mrs. Penneman out there?" Steve points in the direction of the kind old woman who greeted you.

"Mrs. Penneman?"

"She's at the front desk. She's retiring in exactly one week. That position will be open." He goes on to talk about the ways you could incorporate what you learned in your engineering classes as they switch from mostly paper to computers after Y2K.

"What's the pay like?" You ask, already knowing you plan to agree the second he stops talking.

"Not great, but!" He pauses for a moment. "Plenty of opportunities for overtime." Steve's not an idiot. He saw how looked when he was praising you. The way the red in your cheeks was flaming hot at the mere mention of you doing a good job. He knows what he's doing to you, and he loves it.

"Overtime?"

"Of course. Switching the entire employee records from paper to digital isn't an easy feat. It's going to take a lot of time you may not have during the work day. Does this suit you or should I keep looking?"

"Oh, uh," you hesitate. Steve stifles a grin as he watches your inner battle decide between being around him or possibly making more money. "Yes, that's perfect. Thank you, sir."

"Excellent. You start Monday." Steve ends the conversation abruptly. A jarring switch from friendly and conversational to busy and indifferent. It triggered something in you. A desperate need to get that warmth back.

"Right, okay. I'll... See you Monday." You leave the office, yearning. And Steve is well aware. He sits alone in his office, staring forward as he makes plans for you. He folds his hands together and rests his chin on them as he imagines the way he'll pick you apart like a toy. You're already so desperate for his approval, you've done the hard part for him.

Monday rolls around and you, of course, wake up a little early to get ready. Of course, you don't want to come off as desperate, so you're very tactful in the way you dress and present today, your first day. You've all but forgotten your ex was ever here, let alone the fact that you moved all the way to Hurricane, Utah for him.

Nervous, but good at hiding it, you walk into the building with a beaming false confidence. You're trying to remind yourself that while Steve is attractive and older and something mysterious about him draws you in, you're still here to work and you really can't let rent slip because homelessness is not an option when you're this far from your home state.

You brace yourself for what you assume will be an extremely long day, and you hope it is. Not only for the money but the view as well. When you walk up to the desk, Mrs. Penneman is nowhere to be found. All her belongings are missing from the desk, leaving a generic canvas of an office. You glance down the hall to Steve's open office door.

"Mr. Raglan?" You knock lightly on the door, stepping inside slowly so as not to intrude. He's not there. The entire building seems eerily empty. Just as you turn to leave his office, you run flat into a broad, solid figure. Steve. You stumble before finally falling backward. You sit on the floor for a moment, red-faced, but keeping your composure to the best of your ability.

"Someone's punctual." Steve extends a hand to you, helping you up to your feet.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Raglan. I couldn't find-"

"Mrs. Penneman decided an early retirement was in store. I'll be training you, if that's alright." Steve smirks, knowing he relieved his previous secretary of her duties early specifically to have this time working so closely with you. He dressed it up as a gift to her.

"Oh, okay. Of course. Where should I start?" You smile, awaiting instruction. You cling to every word he says, the guidance, the leadership. The way his dimples deepen when he smiles in the slightest. You become dependent on making him smile simply for this reason.

Steve sets you up for data entry and asks that you let him come check your work every so often to make sure things "meet his standards." You've never been more determined to do something perfectly in your life. With unbreakable focus, you start the first few tasks. You're mindful, double-checking, efficient, and fast.

"Mr, Raglan?" You appear like an angel in his doorway. He looks up from his papers and waits for you to continue. "I finished the first portion. Could you come check it for me?"

Steve smiles warmly as he stands to follow you to your desk. The warmth of his gaze melts you from your head to your pussy.

"This looks great, Y/N. Good job." He adds the last bit just to see the way your eyes shift and sparkle when he compliments you. He leaves you to do the rest of your work in peace, but he lingers a little longer in the hallway, watching you for a moment, carefully hidden from your view.

You pick up on the data entry rather quickly and finish the very last employee record by the end of your first week. When Steve comes to finalize the task, he grabs a chair and slides it next to yours so you can both look at the screen together. You're poised and collected by now, the initial lust seeming to die down after a week of seeing him every day. Though his words of approval still cause a knot to form in your stomach.

Steve picks up on your dwindling excitement and decides this is war. As the two of you sit next to each other, he carelessly allows his legs to take up more and more space. Normally a man's obliviousness in a situation like this would boil your blood, but when his thigh grazes yours so softly, you freeze. His touch lingers and he looks at you with half-lidded eyes. His face is dangerously close to yours. He leans in even closer, boldly placing his lips mere inches from your ear.

"You're a very impressive young woman. You know that?" His warm breath brushes against your ear, inviting a million little goosebumps across your skin. It takes everything in him not to chuckle at your visceral reaction. You're frozen, staring straight ahead, basking in the closeness to this man you desire so badly. A few moments pass and a light chuckle leaves his lips. Still ever so close, he speaks again. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

"S-sorry! Thank you, Mr. Raglan. Sorry," you nervously laugh, wishing so badly you could go back in time and rip the sticker off your forehead that says "Fuck me, Mr. Raglan."

"Don't mention it." He suddenly withdraws from your personal space, leaving you clinging to the dwindling body heat he's left behind. His tall figure towers over you, especially so when you're sat. He's gone just as quickly as he arrived and you can't help but feel perplexed. Was he not just coming on to you? Did you project all of that onto a perfectly normal interaction? He warps your reality without even touching you.

"What the fuck?" You question aloud to yourself. Your heart is racing. Your mind is constantly replaying the moment. His voice, his words, all of it.

The next day, it starts as any other. You're replaying the day before over and over again, just as you did when you shamelessly touched yourself last night. The sound of his voice so close to your ear, the way his leg brushed against yours. Just thinking about it feels like butterflies in your stomach.

"Good morning, Y/N." Steve walks right past you. You try to return the greeting, but you're cut off by the sound of his office door closing. He's frustrated, but you're not sure why. Disappointed, but not really the probing type, you decide to just get to work. Today was supposed to be the day he trained you for a "side project" utilizing your coding skills, but you're hesitant to ask about it while he's so visibly upset.

The day continues as usual, though it does seem to drag on a little longer for you when you don't get to stare at Steve. You're straightening up the waiting area, bent at the waist to fan out the magazines. When you stand, there's suddenly a tall figure behind you. Steve is pressing the entire front of his body directly against you. You involuntarily release a small gasp when you feel what you're sure is his half-hard cock pressed against your ass. Steve takes only a second to inhale your scent and feel himself pressed against you before he whispers in your ear once again.

"You're my secretary, not my maid." He steps away and you frown, still facing away from him.

"I'm sorry, sir. I've run out of things to do." You shrug and you turn.

"Out of things to do? Already?" He raises his eyebrows.

"Yes, sir." Your formality is adorable to him. And something about you calling him "sir" makes him hard just hearing it.

"Well," Steve steps closer to you now that you're facing him. He's so tall, towering over you, craning his neck to keep his eyes locked on yours. "You're such a good girl," there it is. His words make you shudder. There's no way he's fucking with you right now, right? Wrong. He once again creates a gap between the two of you.

"Good kid with a good head on your shoulders. Try not to overthink it." He smirks at your beet-red face and swiftly disappears to his office. You're becoming frustrated. It's as if by the time he walks away, you're so enthralled that you can't remember whether or not your degenerate, horny brain over-dramatized the memory. Angry and even a little embarrassed, you make your way back to your desk.

Steve sits in his office carefully listening to the sounds of your frustration. He loves the way you'd fall to your knees for him right now if he asked, but he likes fucking with you more. He hears you sigh away the sexual tension and he grins. Having this much power over someone like you. You're so smart and beautiful, what are you doing melting in his hands like that? His strong hand finds the growing bulge in his slacks, hoping to relieve any of the pressure he's been building up for the both of you.

He closes his eyes and inhales deeply through his teeth still palming himself, picturing you bound and gagged in front of him. Maybe that's why he's so insistent on teasing you instead of fucking you on his desk like he knows you dream about. Maybe he wants the chase, the restraint. You're too easy, he wants you to be scared.

At the end of the day, you decide to say "fuck it" and see what he'll do if you match his energy. He's grabbing his things to leave when you slip into his office and close the door behind you. You're shaking-nervous, your heart is pumping at an inhuman rate. You have no idea what your plan is until it happens.

"Mr. Raglan, can I ask you a question?" You make your way across the room, passing the boundary of the front of his desk, standing with him behind it. Steve tilts his head in a bemused expression.

"Y/N, feeling a little comfortable, are we?" His sarcastic question leaves you a little more unsure of yourself, and you take a step back. "Ask away." Steve smiles innocently.

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but..." You're shocked at how steady your voice is as you fall into this sultry character you've created for yourself. It's never failed you before. "I feel like there's something you're trying to tell me. It's not very subtle." You lean against the desk casually. "Am I wrong?"

"Oh, wow," Steve can't help but grin, but he quickly replaces it with a smug, sarcastic expression. "You must be the queen of subtly, right?" His snarky words catch you off guard. "No, dear. Sorry about any miscommunications on my part. See you tomorrow, Y/N."

Steve steps around you and walks out the door without another word. You're stunned silent and extremely embarrassed. You consider leaving a resignation letter on your desk and never coming back. Furious, you slam the door to your car and drive home. By the time you get to your driveway, you've calmed down and accepted that everything you thought he was doing was just your imagination.

You're still angry, unable to fully accept that you'd be that delusional, but who really knows? From then on, you put away your fantasies and focus on work and getting money set aside for rent. The next few days continue like normal, with no more "misunderstandings" or advances. Until... Steve reaches for a binder off a shelf behind your desk. As he slides in behind you where you stand, right behind your pushed-in computer chair, and reaches his long arm up to the shelf, his other arm searches for a surface to brace on. That surface is your pencil skirt-clad waist.

You gasp quietly, but you don't allow yourself to react any further. Steve has the binder in his hand, but he doesn't remove the other from your waist. He lingers, staring at the back of your head trying to read whatever emotion must be displayed on the other side. You're rigid, like you usually are when he pushes these boundaries, but he also senses your frustration and boredom. He can't help but chuckle as he steps away.

"Thank you, Y/N," he says, waving the binder as he walks away to his office. Did he even need the binder? No, probably not. You huff at your seat, officially deeming him untouchable. You decide he must just be a weird old man that doesn't understand personal space and you can accept that now that he's no longer the object of your desire.

This is what he wanted. Your indifference. It's all part of his plan. As the days continue and your attraction settles to dust, he waits for you to make a mistake, any mistake. To his surprise and perhaps even dismay, you're nearly perfect. Then finally, you accidentally double-book a client meeting that leaves someone jobless with no way to reschedule. You're horrified and apologizing left and right to the man who is more than understanding, making you feel worse.

The man finally leaves, with no job, and no meeting. You sit at your desk and mentally scold yourself for being so careless. The stress of the approaching deadline of your rent seems to be taking a larger toll on you than you realized. Steve's client meeting ends and he sends the temp on his way with high hopes. You wish him a good day and try to focus on your computer.

"Y/N, can I see you in my office?" Steve appears from nowhere in front of your desk. He moves so silently when he means to, it's unsettling. You shamefully look up from your work and nod, following him to his office. You both sit in the appropriate seats and he releases a sigh.

"I'm disappointed in you, Y/N." His opening statement crushes you. "That was a huge fuck up, was it not?" His voice is stern and the use of cursing lets you know this is not a formal scolding. You're in trouble.

"I-I know, but it's the first one I've ever made since I started, sir."

"So that means I should just forget about it, right?" He leans back in his chair, folding his hands in front of him. "A man can't feed his family because he doesn't know when he'll have a ride back here."

"I know, sir. I'm... I'm sorry." You sigh, eaten alive with guilt. "He was very kind."

"Did you deserve it?" He's angry.

"No." You look away from him.

"What was that?" He tilts his head, eyebrows still arched. You glance at him, confused for a moment.

"No... Sir." You add.

"I think you're getting too comfortable here, Y/N. 'It's not very subtle.'" he quotes you and your face ignites with blush.

"O-Of course, sir. I'm so embarrassed. I'm sorry."

"Well, don't be embarrassed. Do better." You nod and begin to stand to leave when he leans forward with a softer expression. "Coffee?"

"What?" You don't even mean to ask him to repeat himself, it was just such a jarring switch in tone.

"Coffee. I just made it." Steve stands and crosses the room to a little black coffee maker in his office that you'd never noticed before.

"Uh, sure." You accept, hoping the caffeine will give you some sort of drive to improve your current work performance. Steve pours you both a cup and passes one to you. They're the same cup, but his looks comically small in his large, nimble hands. You take a few sips of the hot, dark liquid and begin to feel light-headed.

Everything around you seems to melt away. You've completely disregarded where you are or why you might feel this way. You try to stand and you drop the still-full cup on the office floor. Steve watches it all leaning against the table across the room. He nonchalantly sips his coffee as he waits for you to collapse. Just as he planned, the minute you get to your feet, your knees buckle beneath you. You're out before you hit the floor.

"Look at this. Look how little you think of yourself the second you hear how disappointed I am." Steve chuckles as he lifts your unconscious body. You're bound and gagged in the back seat of his '79 Ford Fairmont as he makes his way to an undisclosed location. Yeah, that one.

You wake up with a deep, sharp gasp as if you'd been holding your breath the entire time. Your head is spinning and your vision is blurry as you try to scan your surroundings. It's a dank grey room littered with failed attempts at his "side project" he'd mentioned to you weeks ago. Crumpled endo-skeletons and half-built robot heads cover each corner while wires and bolts cover the rest. Your heart begins to race and you try to rise from the cold, metal table you reside on, only to find that your wrists and ankles are strapped in place with thick leather binds.

"What the fuck?" You mumble to yourself as you continue to try to wake up. "Hello?! Help! Help me, please!" You scream and thrash on the slab.

"They all say that, you know? They always scream for help as if anyone's coming." Steve slowly enters the door. His tie is loose along with a few buttons, and his sleeves are haphazardly shoved halfway up his arms. His normally carefully combed hair is disheveled and damp with sweat as if he'd been hard at work before entering this room.

"'They?'" You tremble, rattling the metal.

"Of course, you're the first for this type of venture, I guess. Normally I just skip to killing," he chuckles, removing his tie. You're in a state of shock, sheer disbelief. Hearing that last word sends you into hysterics.

"Please don't kill me, sir. I- I won't fuck up again, I promise. Please-"

"Shut. Up." Steve's stern voice cuts directly through your pleas. "I haven't decided yet."

Tears flow steadily down the sides of your face as he begins to grope you. His rough hands explore every inch of you. His calculated hands knowingly leave bruises on your tender skin.

"Please..." You whisper with your eyes tightly shut, afraid of every movement he makes.

"Sweetheart, if this part scares you, I'm not sure you're gonna survive what comes next." He's only inches from your ear as he whispers. Your body shudders with terrified sobs. The cries only get louder when you feel Steve cutting off your clothes. You're too afraid to fight him off, unsure of whether any injuries you may acquire would be accidental or not.

"Why are you doing this? I-I literally came on to you!" You try to find reason in his actions, mostly to distract yourself from the fact that you're completely exposed, the remnants of your clothes a tattered mess beneath you.

"Where's the fun..." he drags the tip of his knife softly from your ankle to your navel as he steps closer to your blushing face. "In that?" He continues, positioning the weapon to stab through your abdomen, should he press down with any effort at all. Goosebumps erupt over your skin. "Now, are you going to shut your fucking mouth or do I need to shut it for you?" He places a gentle hand on your cheek. You nod frantically, looking into his eyes. They look so calm.

You hate to admit it, but the way he touches you seems to attempt to dig up that insatiable attraction you felt for him not long ago. Your fantasies never ventured to this genre, but you used to dream of him making you orgasm. You're torn from that memory when you remember his admittance to murder and how you know that means you probably won't make it out of this room.

Steve places the knife to the side and slowly slips his middle finger inside you. You gasp, and he plunges away, growing rougher with each stride. He curls his knuckles and watches your face closely as your crying eyes roll back into your skull. You yank against your restraints, trying to squirm away from him, but he's ruthless.

"You're so... Peculiar, Y/N." He removes his fingers from you and cleans them of your undeniable arousal with a pocket handkerchief. "I almost caved when you confronted me in my office. So bold. It's been a riot just picking at you." Steve reaches a hand into a desk in this mysterious room and retrieves an unknown device. You gasp as he slips the small, cold object inside you.

"What are you-" your question is swiftly silenced by the small remote in Steve's hand activating a powerful vibration from the item in your pussy. His free hand rubs rhythmically up and down your clit, stimulating you further. Steve stares down at you as you melt away into pleasure, ashamed and silently begging for more. He's laughing at you, hovering his head over yours as you anxiously avoid eye contact.

"Look at me," he demands, but you can't. You shut your eyes. He releases a breathy chuckle and raises the intensity of the vibrating gadget. "Don't start enjoying yourself or I might have to really scare you." You don't want to know what that entails, so you force yourself to look into his soulless blue eyes. The eye contact deepens the red shade that washes over your cheeks and Steve shakes his head, laughing at you again.

"Why are you so embarrassed now? Would you still be this shy if I'd bent you over my desk like you wanted? You're so much tighter when you're scared." Steve abruptly removes the vibrating toy from between your legs. You whimper pathetically in the absence of stimulation. He leaves the room and returns with yet another machine. This one's larger, a box.

He places the box down between your legs, as close to your throbbing entrance as he can get it. The side of the box facing you is adorned with a hole housing a phallic shape made of soft, silicone material. Your heart is bound to give out at this pace. The box itself covers a mass of gears and wires, a motor to power the rod in and out of its destination. You.

"We'll start it out slowly for you, how's that?" Steve presses a button and the machine pushes into you, slipping in easily as your body clearly craves it. You whine and cry out in pain as the machine stretches you out, slowly boring in and out of you. "If this thing's too big for you, what makes you think you could've taken me?" He laughs as he leans against the desk and watches the mechanism fuck you out. Every so often, he increases the speed.

Finally, it's maxed out. You're squirming and wailing in overstimulated pleasure and pain.

"Please! Please, I can't take it- I can't-" your begs are ignored. Steve places a rough hand around your neck, carelessly cutting off your oxygen and blood flow while his other hand delicately flicks your clit. That's it, that sends you over the limit. You climax harder than you ever thought possible, drenching the machine that's still fucking into you as your body quivers. Steve allows you to breathe again and takes his sweet time powering down the penetration machine.

You're shaking. Your tear-stained face is frozen in a look of exhaustion. The last thing you're able to do is move or speak. Your breathing is a plethora of hitched coughs and gasps and you flinch at even the possibility of being touched again at all.

"I think you might be ready now." He unfastens your bindings and takes a step back to observe. You don't move at all, not a single muscle. The truth is, you can't, even if you wanted to. Steve smirks, pressing a foot-lever under the table that lowers you right down to his waist. Two powerful hands hook under your legs and pull you so your beaten hole is perfectly accessible to him. You cry out as he moves you.

"I-I can't, Steve. I-" Your nearly inaudible mumbles are knocked from your mouth as he lands a hard open palm slap across your face.

"You're going to." He makes quick work of his belt and quickly aligns himself with your entrance. At one point all you wanted from him was this, but now you'd rather be anywhere else. Your cheek is ablaze, covered with a spreading stinging sensation. You're too distracted by the pain to notice Steve rearing back. He slams into you at full force, throwing his head back in ecstasy.

"Nooo!" You whine, unsure of how much more your body can truly take.

"Fuck!" He's almost primal when he's inside you, digging his fingertips into your flesh like he intends to take it off your body. "After all of that, you're still so fucking tight."

He reaches to your breasts and roughly gropes at the delicate skin. Your weak hand tries to tug at his wrist, but he simply flicks you away like a pest, continuing the assault. He slams into you, hoping to do more harm than anything, smiling at your sobbing face. Your makeup is a smeared mess and your hair is in disarray from the way you fought back on the table. You look pathetic to him and he loves it.

"You want to be filled up, don't you sweetheart?" He huffs, slowly approaching his climax. Your eyes open wide and a new wave of fear and adrenaline shoots through you, but you're still too weak to manage. Steve easily pins your wrists by your shoulders and thrusts deeper and deeper, hooking his hips to temporarily reach the very limit of your cunt.

"Please don't! Mr. Raglan, please!" You beg between gasping sobs as you listen to his labored breaths become unsteady. His agonizing thrusts lose their rhythm and suddenly you can feel his thick erection twitching inside you, brushing your G spot and carrying you over the edge again as well. You didn't even think that would be possible at this point.

You and Steve ride out your highs. He continues to pump into you making a heinous sound as he fucks his cum deeper inside you. To his surprise, he remains hard, so he continues to rut into your destroyed pussy until his legs threaten to give out. Steve finishes inside you a second time, laughing as he watches your horrified face realize how full of him you are. He's taking his time pulling out of you, playing with your cum soaked clit until you finally pass out from exhaustion.

Steve releases a breathy laugh as he fastens his belt and collapses in a chair nearby. You're lying there, naked and dripping cum from your swollen, demolished pussy. He can't get enough of this view. His original plan was to just get rid of you when he was done here, why not? But this is too much fun for him. Maybe he needs a new pet.

[ladyastrelle]

Keep my name outta

yo f***ing mouth jar 👄🫙

How to:

🖤💋🖤💋🖤💋🖤

You need 1 small jar (like a baby food jar) or glass vial/container with cork or a top, and another larger jar you can seal it in, with room around it to add herbs.

In the small jar make a name paper with your name (full name) and any nicknames, business names etc. Then add a petition that says "For Every time you speak ill over me, my life becomes more beautiful and my wealth grows, while your life becomes more unbearable, and your wealth and health fade." Sign the petition with your full name.

Fill the small jar with those papers, lavender, basil, sage, cloves, rosemary and patchouli. Optionally, you can add small sized Quartz stones. Then seal that jar well. If the jar is corked, seal with wax.

Place it in the large jar and fill the rest of the large jar with any of the following: salt, peppercorns, chilis, chili powder, red peppers, nightshade, belladonna, pokeroot, garlic, hotfoot powder, tobacco, small rusted nails, small mirror shards, dead bugs, spider webs, cloves, poppy seeds, small sticker burrs, cat claws- once you've added what you like, top it with more salt, chili powder and your baneful herbs (you want most of the smaller vessel covered) then twist that jar top tight. Seal as you desire.

Lastly, place intent into the jar- you can do this by burning a tealight candle over it and focusing on your intended outcome, or similarly by burning a separate petition or sigil you create on top and scattering the ashes to the wind.

You may bury this jar or keep it hidden somewhere close to you as it does its task.

-Lady Astrelle xx

[antiguagealach]

THE ARTFUL DODGER DESERVES A SECOND SEASON

To begin with, I want to clarify that Spanish is my native language, so I will try to express myself as best I can in this post.

I'm a little late to this series, as it premiered about a year ago. At some point I assumed, wrongly, that it was released in the first half of the year. Despite not having had time yet to see your posts, tweets, nor videos about the series (I will do it because I am obsessed with this series), I have read some fanfics, and I must say they are a real chef's kiss!

My interest in this series came about while I was still going through the “grief” of a cancellation. I recently finished watching My Lady Jane, a wonderful series that they cancelled for no reason. So, when I started this new series and was hooked from the first episode by its plot and characters, I asked a friend to research if there was going to be a second season or if it had been cancelled as well. To prepare myself emotionally, I wanted to know if I could expect a conclusion or at least a sequel. However, my friend told me that there wasn't much official information: some rumors indicated that it was cancelled, while others mentioned that it might have been planned as a short series. I decided to assume it was a short series and told myself that, if that was the case, it was fine. But then I saw the ending… and I just can't accept it.

After all the tension of the plots, the operation and the evolution of the relationship between Jack and Belle, I can't settle for such an open-ended closure. How can it all end with a simple “Jack” uttered through thick glass, followed by his incarceration? That ending seems made for a sequel.

As I mentioned before, I'm aware that I'm late to this fandom. All I know is that there is a fan petition for a second season. However, there is a silver lining: according to several people on social media, this series has not been officially cancelled. In addition, the creator continues to share content and give “likes” to those who ask for a second season, which is a good sign. I also consider it positive that it is not Amazon but Disney/Hulu who are behind it, as this could give us a chance. Another inspiring example is Good Omens, a series that, although initially conceived as a single season based on a book, was eventually greenlit for a second season (after years).

I imagine this idea has already come up among fans, but I propose that we make more noise, following the example of the My Lady Jane fandom. The Artful Dodger has enormous potential to explore different avenues in a second season, and I'm sure James McNamara already has some great ideas in mind.

[iseltwalds]

Well, the incident, even if they had no idea Margaret and Stacy switched, it still scarred someone XD. I wonder how it would’ve played out if it was really Margaret they were able to capture 😂

Bianca probably did find out about the fiasco her daughter had participated in. She probably felt bad that her daughter had gone to that extent because of how much she wished to escape the memories her parents had left at their estate.

Frank: Have you ever had a boyfriend? 

Donatelli: No. 

Frank: *generally surprised* HOW?! 

Donatelli: *shrugs* Never asked, never been  asked. 

Frank: *under his breath* But you’re so beautiful. 

Donatelli: What? 

Frank: *blushes* What?!    

[red-jaw329]

Ladies, gentlemen, those who can't be bothered with all that, the situation in Florida has somehow, SOMEHOW, become even worse. For those who don't know, our governor, the dark lord DeSantis, has just vetoed 32 million dollars worth of pre-approved funding for the arts here in Florida. Why? He says it's because the fringe festival (an international arts festival that actually received very little state funding) is "A sexual festival, where all this stuff is happening". Not only is this statement false, but the fringe festival is just a small part of the theaters, community centers, museums, and other groups who will struggle to get by. Please, if you live in Florida, call your representatives, make it clear how egregious this action is, and if you don't live in Florida, please share this with others. I'm also leaving a link to change dot org at the bottom. I don't know if DeSantis will listen to our petition, but we have to do everything we can.

[callmedelia]

They Canceled Grease: Rise of the Pink Ladies. Here’s a petition to switch it to another platform and save it.

Grease: Rise of the Pink Ladies portrays a great level of diversity that is hard to rival in modern television. Characters from all ethnicities, sexualities, and social status are represented. It has an extremely dedicated fan base, but Paramount has made the decision to cancel the series and remove it show from their platform in the next week, essentially making it impossible to watch. This means that those involved with the show’s creation and production get no further compensation for their efforts. It is a tax write off for the company.

Additionally, ROTPL is (currently) destined to fall into the bin of “great sapphic representation silenced”, which also includes Everything Sucks(2019), I Am Not Okay With this(2020), and many others.

Aside from signing this petition you may also email and submit suggestions to alternative streaming platforms (such as Netflix, Hulu, Max, and Amazon Prime Video) to uptake the mantle. Other series to face cancellation have been saved in this way, notably the sitcom One Day at a Time(2017), which was initially removed from Netflix but later transferred to PopTV to finish its entire run.

Please do not let Grease: Rise of the Pink Ladies die. Many of the cast have been extremely outspoken in their support of its renewal for a second season, and have been brought much grief by this sudden choice. The writers, actors, and producers should not be faulted and punished for their beautiful work, especially when ROTPL had only finished its first season 2/3 weeks before this sudden news. Revelation of its removal is frankly ridiculous, all things considered. Remember to Think Pink!

#SaveRiseOfThePinkLadies

(Edited for clerical error and additional information on 06/29/2023)

[dialalagirl]

Hi! I’d love a diabolik lovers matchup if that’s okay.

My name is Shiri (Meaning : Song of My Soul) and I’m a 27 year old lady but I still feel like a little girl inside. I’ve never dated a real person in my life because I never found someone whom I could fully trust romantically. I prefer my daydreams 💗. Perfect, sweet fantasy is better than the complicated, often times scary reality.

I’m autistic and I can be quite childlike in my pure mindset. Like, people who meet me and are my close friends consider me a sweet bunny or a cuddly plushie or pet. My personality can be quite dualistic though.

Towards the people I care for and love I’m shy, sweet, kind, gentle, optimistic, quirky, passionate, wise and supportive! I try my best to uplift those I cherish. I find joy and pride in being a cheerleader and an emotional supporter.

Face to face I can be quite quiet, shy and socially awkward but I try my best to be both kind and honest. (It’s hard though and I have a habit of people pleasing to keep the peace. My Libra moon is showing 😅)

The other side of me is that I can be cold as ice and sharp towards people I believe have hidden intentions and might be toxic. I’m quite emotionally intelligent. I also can be distrustful of men.

I was r*ped a few years ago and it really broke my trust in real men.

I can be judgmental and easily irritable towards people [casual acquaintances / superficial friends (or men) I don’t particularly like in my college classes]! in my mind but I don’t show it externally.

Like, when they overload me with their emotional troubles and like;;,, I’m not your therapist.! >:(, or when they’re consistently desperate for external validation from the teachers..or are too ‘friendly’ with me..

Sometimes I wonder, does that make me a hypocrite? But after thinking about it I realized that it’s not hypocrisy, I just care too much about ‘being liked’, ‘keeping the peace’, ‘not my business to interfere with’, ‘not my place to judge or intervene’, ‘best to just disengage from them and flee’ and..about proving my worth in ‘how kind I am towards others’….

I feel like maybe it’s unhealthy. Not being my authentic self with my external circle of friends and only being authentic with my family. Perhaps I’m just careful not to get hurt, and am selective with the people I let in.

Ehem. Well. In terms of hobbies ; I love singing romantic songs and daydreaming about my reverse harem of fictional husbands. I love reading manga and webtoons, watching asian dramas and anime! I love listening and going to musicals! I also love ballet even though I’m clumsy.

On weekend nights I love listening to romantic music in my earphones and dancing around in the kitchen and living room and daydreaming about my fictional lovers!

I love my plushies and parents! I love mythologies and believing in fairies and magic and angels. I also love playing otome games! On my phone, on Steam, on the Nintendo Switch! (I love treating myself like a princess, angel or fairy interchangibly)

My first love was Jumin Han (Mystic Messenger) and I still adore him to this day 😆💗.

Looks : I’m a light skinned jewish autistic girl, I am 5’2 and 121 lbs ; petite, small chested but with yummy and soft thighs and a slender, elegant neck and smooth, soft, beautiful hands with pinkish fingertips. Beautiful collarbones and angel wings (shoulder-blades).

I have brunette hair that cascades in soft ringlets and warm, deep brown eyes that look like honey under the sunlight. I love casual kawaii Japanese fashion and eating sour candy! Candy is like my ultimate weakness 😍🍬. I also adore kitty cats and bunnies and ducklings! And I lovelovelove lions and leopards/panthers!

My dream is to adopt a bunny or a couple of kitties and cherish my furbabies 😍🥰🐰🐈‍⬛. I especially love Ragdolls or Maine Coons, maybe Calico or Tortoiseshell kitties! Or Devon/Selkirk-Rex!

My astrology signs are : Capricorn sun, Libra Moon.

In love (with fictional characters) I am quite the hopeless romantic, so bright, vibrant and colorful! Giddy and bubbly! (With switches to dreamy, calm, in my own world and sleepy.)

I’m an INFP-A 9w1 enneagram.

In love I am Sticky, gooey like honeycomb 🍯 and as fiery as fireworks 🎆 (I call them Fire Flowers). I can be quite swoony and drunk in love! But also quite jealous and possessive.

The music I love listening to is : J-Pop, K-Pop, Disco, Lady Gaga, Ariana Grande, IU, Lim Kim, Enhypen, CNBlue, Jungkook, Kali Uchis, Aurora (Norwegian singer), Audrey Hepburn, Achinoam Nini, Disney songs, Electro Swing, Diabolik Lovers songs on soundcloud and Bossa Nova.

I hope that’s more than enough?

Oh ! My kinks ! I’m usually a sex repulsed asexual but it’s a different matter if it’s with fictional characters because I’m the one in control of the situational fantasy.

But I like petplay, foodplay (not whipped cream. I prefer chocolate or honey.), stalker/obsessive bf/dubcon roleplays (my sinful kink 😔🙏🏼..), and I’m into guys like Dabi/Touya (‘My Hero Academia’) or guys like Ryomen Sukuna (‘Jujutsu Kaisen’). I also love guys like Yamato (‘Say I Love You’ anime)

I like guys who are usually rough yet are sweet to only me. Someone who is : Devoted, passionate, mature, intelligent, reliable, romantic, a bit of a tease and totally obsessed and enamored with me. A guy who would make me dizzy and feverish with passion and abandon, trust him completely despite the dangers. (Initially though when meeting the dialovers cast I was quite scared yet visibly angry and defiant towards them in order to protect myself from being sucked dry and left for dead. It depends on them whether I will grow to trust them or not.)

I’m also talented at writing thank you and appreciation letters to my family and friends (also potential lovers’ birthdays or after-date thank you letters), and baking! I love honey, chocolate or orange sponge cakes or chocolate balls, or vanilla pudding and biscuit cheesecake, rogalach chocolate pastries. Also soups! Tomato soup, chicken noodle soup, french onion soup and goulash stew.

Now that’s everything about me that came to mind! Thank you for reading! I hope it wasn’t too long? 😣 (rnm-magic-space-xsd)

drumroll plz! your perfect diaboy is--you won't believe it--kanato. why have i sentenced you to certain death? well:

your gentle and sweet nature, paired with the fact that you’re cautious about who you trust and are selectively opening up, gives me the impression that you will eventually find yourself drawn to him. say what you want about the drama queen, but he does not bother with pretence: he is what he is

once he notices your tender heart and sweet innocent personality he’d most likely quickly claim you as one of his dolls. your childlike qualities would most certainly appeal to him and his quite possessive ways

your affinity for daydreaming and romantic fantasy align perfectly with Kanato’s flair for the dramatic to the point of fantastical. ESPECIALLY considering his obsession with Teddy ah, the parallel to your own love of plushies and his need to 'protect' those he cares about, however strange and twisted

foodplay? need I say more  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 

[stargazerlily7210]

Hey! Bridgerton fans! Especially LGBTQ Bridgerton fans!! I feel like you should know about this?!

I just stumbled across this petition on change.org and it gave me really bad (homophobic) vibes.

Look, full disclosure, I'm not one of you yet, so I don't know what's going on in the show, therefore this could be nothing, but it gave me bad/homophobic vibes so i figured I'd share, just in case. Please know that I dont have any problems with the show, I just haven't watched it cause interpersonal/social/backstabbing/miscommunication types of drama stress me out too much, and as far as I can tell, that's a solid 80% of the plot. The Bridgerton fans who know me have already warned me that I'd have a bad time for those very reasons, and I trust them with my life, so please forgive my lack of Bridgerton knowledge.*

Anyway. All that to say, I haven't seen a single episode of Bridgerton. Literally, all I know is it takes place in a fantasy version of Regency England, the soundtrack is for the Lindsey Stirling/Piano Guys crowd, that Penelope is Gossip Girl/Lady Whistledown, and what can be gleamed about the season 1 plot from that one tiktok sound about newlyweds burning for eachother and suicidal ideation in mazes.

I am a Doctor Who fan, however, and therefore was made aware of the lack of/hope for LGBTQ rep in season 3.2 and beyond (I'm just assuming that word of Doctor Who's "Gay Bridgerton" episode has made the rounds on Bridgerton tumblr by now).

(I don't want to add the url because it just asks you to sign the petition, but if you want to find it, I figure it's easy enough to look up)

If you don't see why I worry this petition is fundamentally homophobic, here's a glimpse of the review section (where only those who have signed the petition can leave a comment):

Now, I recognize that this might be a misunderstanding and a 'not my pig, not my farm'/'stay in your lane' situation as someone outside the fandom who hasnt seen the show. But as a whovian who lived through superwholock, I know a thing or two about queerbating and how showrunners can respond/succumb to pressure from the fandom, this feels like the wrong kind of backlash, that's all.

[dracula-dictionary]

Dracula Dictionary, July 24th

Bay of Biscay: the part of the Atlantic Ocean immediately north of Spain and west of France

round robin: a petition or protest on which the signatures are arranged in a circle in order to conceal the order of signing

Whitby: a seaside town in the north of England

the Crescent: a street in Whitby

viaduct: a type of bridge that consists of a series of arches supporting a long elevated road

piers: the pillars that a viaduct's arches rest on

Nuremberg: a city in the south of Germany, one of several german cities that are known for their fachwerk houses that Mina references

Danes: the people of Denmark. Danish vikings are known to have raded English settlements in the 8th and 9th century

Marmion: a long poem that deals with love, betrayal, and revenge and is partially set at Whitby Abbey; at some point in the story a nun is sealed inside of a wall for breaking her vows, however this actually takes place at Lindisfarne, an island that is signifiantly closer to the Scottish border than Whitby

white lady: the ghost of a woman that typically appears inside houses wearing a white dress

parish: a part of a the territory that is overseen by a bishop, with its own church and a designated priest

Kettleness: a hamlet by the sea, just northwest of Whitby

shoals away: becomes shallow

Waterloo: a city in Belgium, previously belonging to the Netherlands, where Napoleon was defeated for the final time in 1815

fash masel: worry myself

them things be all wore out: Those are tired stories

comers and trippers: tourists

feet-folks: people who travel on foot

jet: a type of gemstone

creed aught: believe anything

fool-talk: nonsense

gang: go

ageeanwards: towards

crammle aboon the grees: climb up the stairs

belly-timber: food

sairly: badly

[lya-dustin]

Shock and Delight

chapter 17

There is a new man on the lists.

Handsome, well-read and a prince. Though he does not have silver locks nor a dragon, Prince Qyle has enough charm and good looks to overcome that little flaw.

His long-awaited arrival has caused quite a stir and not because his highness has the court ladies swooning as if he were the hot Dornish Sun. No, the reason Prince Qyle’s welcome will never be forgotten, is our favorite Princess having the most unladylike reaction to the prince’s compliments.

But even with that pig-like sound that emanated from the Pearl of Dragonstone, it seems Prince Aemond will finally have a real contender for Princess Aemma’s hand.

Place your wagers, my dear readers, for the final tilt has just begun.

---The Morning Scandal

To make up for her unintentional insult, Aemma must now show the keep and the guest chambers prepared for Dornish Delegations to the Prince as an apology.

They are properly chaperoned, by her Septa and Lady Elinda Massey, and nothing improper is allowed to happen. Not that it matters because Aemma already mocked the prince for his choice of courtesies.

“I apologize for what happened earlier, it is just ---” Aemma has no idea how to say ‘your lack of originality made me laugh’ in a way that does not offend Prince Qyle.

“You were not expecting me to use the same praise all ladies have gotten since time immemorial.” His lips quirk in a smile and shows signs of having a good humor. Perhaps not one as dark and dry as Aemond’s, but something that may help foster friendship at least.

“I was not. Especially after hearing another lady receive the same exact words from a knight wishing to court her.” Aemma admits knowing he won’t tell.

And if he does, then she will reject his suit before anything happens.

“Your uncle seemed privy to the jape, I have read of how close the two of you were on the Morning, but seeing has me wondering if anyone stands a chance at courting you.” Qyle Martell is charming enough to get to the point without coming off as rude. A little too forward, but more on the side of daring, which was very expected of a charming prince of Dorne.

“My uncle and I have no prior nor current engagement, our courtship isn’t set in stone.” The princess has lost count how many times she’s said that these past moons.

A courtship can be broken easier than a betrothal as no paperwork has been signed, Aemond and Aemma are not betrothed and will never be, so her future spouse has no reason to believe he’d have to fight him in a duel or petition to the King to allow it.

Reveals she is still available even if she has Aemond to ward off unwanted men.

“That is good to hear, I had feared my travels here would have been for naught.” Qyle admits quietly as if no one had guessed the motive of his visit to Kingslanding. “May I have your first dances at the feast tomorrow?”

A match between the two of them would provide peace, should the issue be Princess Aliandra and not her husband then Qyle would be Prince of Dorne and their children Kings of all Westeros.

Should the Greens rebel, they would have a harder time fighting a war on several fronts.

And because this would keep the peace and bring Dorne into the fold without bloodshed, Aemma accepts.

“I hope Prince Aemond does not take offense for stealing you from under his nose.” He says with a playful smile she quite likes. Good humor is something she wants in a husband, at least if their marriage fails, they would still be friends.

“It would be on him for waiting so long, unlike him I would be declared an old maid at three and twenty.” The princess assures him, feeling strange because she almost wants Aemond to take offense. Not one of those times where they pull off a choreographed thing to get someone to fuck off, but one of those where Aemond genuinely gets annoyed because they try to get between the two of them.

If things do work out this time, it’s a consolation she won’t lose Aemond as a friend.

He does not like him.

He has never liked any of Aemma’s suitors, and Qyle is no different from the rest.

Qyle says everything Aemma wants to hear, plays up his charm and forward-thinking-ness to butter up the dragon riding heiress and secure a dragon for Dorne.

Yes, the one-eyed prince is aware that marriage is merely a business transaction where women are the currency exchanged ---and much like a coin, they have no voice in the matter--- and Aemma is the deal of a lifetime to these fuckers, but he would rather not see her be heartbroken. She is an idealistic girl who believes in love and perhaps the only good thing to ever come out of his half-sister.

Which was why they would not suit. Aemma was too soft-hearted, too sweet and gentle and he too cold, with a short and violent temper to the point of cruelty. That was not even including his inability to love, she deserved to have someone who can love her and cherish her despite her fucked up ideas like letting the smallfolk elect their magistrates instead of having their liege lords appoint them.

Besides when grandfather and mother usurp Rhaenyra with Aegon anyways, they would be enemies. He would have to limit her to just being a wife and a mother when they both know Aemma has been prepared to govern the realm since she first drew breath.

She could make a good ruler, even if too enamored by the ideas coming from Braavos and the Free Cities. The smallfolk love her, she is of the right seed and whoever marries her would secure her claim.

Aegon wed to their sister removed the chance to secure more allies, Aemond’s wife would not even have the title of Princess and Daeron barely had an inheritance to sweeten the pot. Aemma’s maidenhead came with a crown, and even House Hightower still continued to try and cut out the middleman by offering all of Hobert’s grandsons. Garmund luckily had settled on the future Lady of the Narrow Sea to Daeron’s annoyance.

“The Conqueror’s Crown would suit you more than it would your brother.” His grandsire breaks him from his thoughts with the words Aemond has always wanted to hear and explains why Aegon had reverted back to his

“And yet, I was born after him.” Aegon is the elder and even if he gave obeisance to Rhaenyra, he is still the Heir. As long as Aegon lives and breathes and sires sons, Aemond remains the Spare.

“Your courtship of your niece has your mother fearing you will usurp Aegon. As if he had not removed himself from the line of succession and made you the new heir.”

So this was his new plan? To use Aemond and Aemma to usurp Rhaenyra?

A good plan, Aemma could legitimize his claim as the only visibly legitimate child of Laenor Velaryon, she would be able to rule unimpeded and the moment the shitshow that will bring ends, would gladly kill all of them with her dragon.

They do not know her much like they don’t know how dangerous her dragon actually is.

“Did you know Silverwing’s flames are the hottest recorded in a dragon? Septon Barth wrote about it and I had not believed it until Aemma showed me. Hard to believe such a docile creature can be capable of such destruction.” Aemond likes the way his grandfather hides his displeasure. He believed Aemond was like him, a man who only sought personal gain and did not care who he crushed in his hands.

Ser Otto does not know her anymore than he knows his own fucking family.

He does not know she wouldn’t turn against her own fucking mother for the crown. He does not know how it will kill her to be used like that, how she will not be the obedient slave his mother is to Ser Otto.

Even worse they do not know Aemond would rather gouge his other eye than become the puppet on his grandsire’s hand or let Aemma become the next victim of Ser Otto’s unchecked ambition.

His missed the woman who tried to kill Rhaenyra when Luke took his eye, and father refused them any sort of fucking justice. His mother who fought back and organized her own political faction had been too weak to break the yoke at her neck and now they will all pay for it.

Don’t get him wrong, he loves his mother, would kill and die for her, if need be, but he is not her. Aemond would fight Otto Hightower and anyone who seeks to control him every step of the way, a dragon was not a slave to be commanded like one.

Even if it means losing their mother’s love, they will make sure the wheel breaking her won’t finish crushing her or them.

It was why Aegon and Helaena signed away theirs claims and openly took Elissa Piper as their lover after mother demanded they remove her from court. They never wanted to rule and now would never do so. They, with permission from father in his rare lucid days, would make the hunting lodge their seat. Prince Aegon and Princess Helaena, the first Lord of the Kingswood.

Aegon had never believed their sister’s ramblings and yet when Hel told him he’d be killed through his wine while wearing the Conqueror’s crown, he made Aemond swear not to fight in his name when the time comes. Whatever had changed in Aegon to make him believe Helaena’s words were true was enough to have Aemond cut his palm and swear he would not rise against Rhaenyra unless his elder brother ordered him to.

“We may hate her, but I won’t let my children die for that fucking man.” Aegon had said after they made their oath. “Father did not do enough to protect us, as the eldest son it falls on me to protect you and Daeron and my children.”

And because Aemond knows it won’t end there, he knows what he must do.

Aemond must break Aemma’s heart and keep her from becoming the weapon his grandsire uses to make Aemond break his oath to his brother.

It would have come to an end anyways, there was no better match for her than Qyle Martell. With Dorne on her mother’s side, even his grandsire would reconsider a war.

It was a shame they couldn’t even remain friends, but it was for the best.