#the heist sounds like a perfect name

[90363462]

Remember when Macklemore & Ryan Lewis won the grammys for best new artists and best hip hop album for the heist and then after all the backlash because they won against Kendrick Lamar good kid m.a.d.d city then Macklemore texted to him about how he was robbed and he should’ve won

Anyone who was still upset about this remembers

No disrespect or shade towards jack harlow or his fandom but Jack Harlow getting nominated for #Grammys Best Rap Album this year next to Future, Pusha and Kendrick has triggered my PTSD from 2014 when Macklemore texted this to Kendrick after beating him, Jay-Z, Ye and Drake and if he ends up winning hip hop album over Kendrick, pusha t and future, it’s going to be like this all over again and There’s going to be riots in the streets.

[eternaldecisions]

˙ . ꒷ slytherin!matt . 𖦹˙—

slytherin ! matt spots you at a party.

"Are you sure I should go to that party? I mean..." the words hang in the air, your hesitation palpable. The idea of the party itself wasn’t dreadful; it was what—or rather, who—you might stumble into that made you hesitate. The very thought of running into Matt sent a shiver down your spine. You opened your mouth to say his name, but before you could, Sarah cuts in, her voice a sharp contrast to your uncertainty.

"Please! It’s going to be fun, I swear. I’ll stick by your side the whole time," she promises with a grin that you recognize all too well. You wanted to believe her, but you knew better. The moment she caught sight of Regulus Black walking thru the door, the promise would dissolve faster than mist in the morning sun. Still, a small part of you clung to the hope that maybe, just maybe, this time she’d keep her word.

“And then, what should I wear?” you sigh, your voice carrying the weight of resignation. Your wardrobe isn’t exactly brimming with choices, and the thought of rifling through the same old options feels as tiresome as the decision itself.

Sarah, as the fashion enthusiast she, lights up at the question. "Let’s go for something that screams 'effortlessly cool,'” she suggests, already pulling ideas out of thin air. “How about those black plain skirt you love? Pair them with that silky white green top—it’ll make your eyes pop. And those ankle boots with the silver buckles? Perfect balance between edgy and chic.”

you picture it in your mind: the way the white would contrast against the dark material, how the boots would give you that extra edge of confidence. Suddenly, the idea of the party doesn’t seem quite so daunting.

the music thrums through the air, vibrating against your eardrums—louder than you'd prefer, but not unbearable. It’s a Hogwarts party, after all, and despite your initial reservations, it’s not as bad as you’d imagined. The Great Hall has been transformed into a pulsing sea of lights and sound, the usual grandeur swapped for a more chaotic energy that somehow suits the occasion.

tables are laden with a array of food—everything from pumpkin pasties to chocolate frogs—and a few scattered bottles of butterbeer and beers, a tame selection considering the strict no-hard-liquor rule for students. Not as that stops the Slytherins, you spot a few of them huddled in a corner, undoubtedly plotting their next heist from the staff’s private stash. But that’s a problem for another time.

“I’m going to grab us drinks, alright?” you say, your voice a little more confident than you feel. You make your way to the long, enchanted table draped with a velvet cloth that shimmers like the night sky. On it, bottles of Butterbeer, pumpkin juice, and goblets of ice-cold pumpkin water are laid out, each drink sparkling under the floating candles that light up the Great Hall. You pick a goblet of pumpkin water for yourself and a frothy Butterbeer for Sarah—simple, but comforting.

as you reach for the drinks, your eyes wander, almost by instinct, to a corner of the hall where Matt stands. He’s draped in a black oversized hoodie, the silver horse pendant hanging from his neck catching the soft light, his black baggy pants and boots give him a rebellious edge that you can’t help but notice. You find yourself staring a second too long, admitting, despite your efforts to resist, that he’s not just good-looking—he’s more than that.

you find yourself drawn in, unable to look away, as if a spell has been cast upon you.

his eyes, sharp and almost hypnotic, suddenly catch yours. A jolt of panic rushes through you—how long have you been staring? Blood rushes to your cheeks, the warmth of embarrassment spreading as you realize you've been caught. His lips curl into a smirk, one that’s as much a challenge as it is an invitation. With deliberate steps, he begins to close the distance between you, his presence growing more potent with every inch.

the air seems to thicken as he approaches, the ambient magic of Hogwarts itself reacting to the silent tension. As he draws near, you can almost feel the energy radiating off him, a subtle mix of mischief and something deeper, something that pulls you in even as it warns you to stay away. His eyes never leave yours, and that smirk, oh, that smirk, it tells you everything and nothing all at once.

“How nice seeing you again, starer,” he murmurs, his voice a velvet drawl, smooth yet edged with teasing. He steps closer, far too close, the space between you shrinking to nothing. You roll your eyes at his comment, trying to mask the flutter of nerves his proximity forming within you.

“Does the cat always bite your tongue around me, sweetheart?” he mocks, his tone light but laced with something deeper, something that sends a shiver down your spine. With a practiced ease, he reaches up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing your skin just long enough to make you tense.

annoyance flares within you, and you swiftly bat his hand away, breaking the brief contact. His touch lingers in your thoughts even as it leaves your skin. He chuckles, a dry, knowing sound that only deepens your frustration. The sound seems to echo in the quiet corridor, a reminder of the power he holds in these fleeting moments.

but beneath that chuckle, there’s something else—a challenge, a dare hidden in his eyes as he watches you, waiting for your next move.

you steady yourself, refusing to let him get under your skin any further. With a dirty look, you meet his gaze, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you reply, "I'm sorry, did you say something worth responding to?”

his smirk falters just for a moment, a flicker of surprise passing through his eyes before he recovers. “Feisty today, aren’t we?” he remarks, clearly amused by your defiance. But there's a spark of something else in his eyes now, curiosity, or maybe respect.

You cross your arms, standing your ground as you add, "I’m just not in the mood for your games, so if you’re looking for entertainment, you’ll have to find it somewhere else."

for a second, he studies you, as if reassessing the situation, the tension between you simmering just beneath the surface. Then, with a low chuckle, he steps back slightly, giving you a sliver of space. “You’re a tough one, I’ll give you that,” he concedes, though the playful gleam in his eyes tells you he’s far from done. “But don’t think I’m letting you off that easily.”

his words hang in the air, a promise or a threat—you can’t quite tell. But as he turns to leave, that smirk still playing on his lips, you can’t shake the feeling that this is far from over.

you stand there for a moment, watching him walk away, the echo of his footsteps fading down the corridor. His parting words linger in your mind, swirling like a potion brewing with too many unknown ingredients.

but you’re not one to let things slide so easily. You take a deep breath, your resolve hardening as you call out after him, your voice clear and steady. “If you think this game of yours is going to get you anywhere, you’re sorely mistaken.”

he stops mid-step, slowly turning back to face you, his eyebrows raised in mild surprise. It’s clear he didn’t expect you to push back, at least not so quickly. You can see the calculation in his eyes, the way he’s weighing his next move.

“Is that so?” he drawls, his tone teasing, but there’s a hint of something more serious beneath it now. “You think this is just a game?”

you step forward, refusing to let him regain the upper hand. “I think you like toying with people. But I’m not here to play along.”

for a moment, there’s a silence between you, thick with unspoken challenges. Then, to your surprise, his smirk softens into something almost genuine—almost.

“Maybe you’re right,” he admits, his voice lower now, more thoughtful. “But it seems to me, you’re just as interested in the outcome as I am.”

you open your mouth to argue, but the words catch in your throat. There’s something in his gaze that’s different, something that makes you pause. It’s not just arrogance or amusement anymore, it’s curiosity, a genuine interest that catches you off guard.

he waits, as if daring you to deny it. But instead, you meet his gaze evenly, refusing to back down. “Don’t mistake my curiosity for anything more than it is,” you reply, your voice firm. “I don’t play by your rules.”

his eyes glint with that familiar mischief again, but there’s a new respect there, too. “We’ll see about that.”

with those final words, he turns and walks away, but this time, it feels less like a retreat and more like a promise—one that you’re not entirely sure you’re ready for, but one you know you won’t be able to resist.

as your gaze follows him, lingering on the spot where he disappears around the corner, you barely notice Sarah slipping up beside you until she speaks.

“Hey—the drinks!” she chirps, her voice pulling you back to reality. You blink, shaking off the lingering thoughts as you turn to face her.

“Sorry, got a little distracted,” you say, forcing a smile as you give her one. You can still feel the tension from the encounter thrumming in your veins, but you push it down, trying to focus on the warmth of the drink in your hands.

Sarah tilts her head, her brow furrowing as she follows your gaze to the now-empty corridor. “Distracted by what? Or should I say, by who?” she teases, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “Let me guess, someone from Slytherin?”

you let out a light laugh, trying to brush it off. “It’s nothing, really. Just some…annoying conversation.”

“Annoying, huh?” Sarah raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Well, whoever it was, they’ve definitely got you all riled up. Should I be worried?”

“Worried? No,” you reply, shaking your head, though you can’t quite banish the image of that smirk from your mind. “Just…caught me off guard, that’s all.”

Sarah takes a sip of her butterbeer, her eyes still studying you curiously. “Well, whoever it is, just remember: don’t let anyone mess with you, okay? Especially not some smug Slytherin.”

you smile, her words bringing some much-needed reassurance. “I won’t, promise.”

“Good,” she says, clinking her goblet lightly against yours. “Now, let’s get back to the common room before Filch decides we’re breaking curfew again.”

as you walk away, side by side with Sarah, you can’t help but glance back one last time, the faint echoes of your earlier encounter still playing at the edges of your thoughts. He has you in a trance, and you can’t deny ir.

a/n: i have no idea if this is good sorry baes

taglist: @fawnchives @pearlzier @et6rnalsun @mattscoquette @carvedtits @sirenedeslily @mattslolita @flouvela @jetaimevous @archiebabiesworld @bella-loveschris @lovingregulusblack @sarosfilms @annsx03 @eliana-4200 @wakeupitschrizz

[darby-rowe]

in a weird way sad that dbf!logan is not a mutant 😩 like dont get me wrong still LOVE LOVE LOOOOOVE him and everything you write and i kind of already assumed he was an average joe

but like ever since i read the like “bub having to stay at logan’s after getting locked out” blurb my mind immediately was like oh god he would literally SMELL her on his bedsheets afterwards

but okay even as regular smegular logan- maybe bub wears a really distinct perfume and after’s she’s left (after sitting through a probably awkward breakfast, this is bub.) he goes to his room and just like fucking smells that perfume on his bed. Like he’s being taunted by the knowledge that she was in his bed all night and now all he’s got is the lingering smell of his best friend’s smoking hot daughter (probably jacks off while smelling his pillow but YOU DIDNT HEAR THAT FROM ME)

Don’t even get me STARTED on the possibility of her having to wear one of his shirts as jammies or just something clean to walk home in- she returns it a week later and it smells like her detergent and that damn perfume

i feel like this is such an absurdly long anon 😭 forgive me, you are making my brain absolutely run rampant

-🪱 (thought i’d name myself this incase i make you a victim to my thoughts again)

the cheshire cat grin that was plastered on my face when i woke up to this in my inbox……….. bless you.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

logan, mutant or not, will always have a strong sense of smell, just not when it comes to him and how he constantly REEKS of cigarettes and alcohol. after bub gets in her car and leaves for home, logan is literally taken aback by the pure sweet smell of perfume that penetrates his nose and brain. it’s strong enough to make this man’s eyes water. it immediately intoxicates him, to the point where if he focused long enough, he could pick up notes of bub’s shampoo.

watching her go in one of his old shirts was one thing, but having her smell lingering in his bed was a whole other ballgame. it was fucking creepy, and he knew it, but he walked over to the more disheveled side of the bed (assuming that’s where she slept), and took a deep, long sniff of where she was previously sound asleep. floral, girly, young. it permeates the air around him, unable to escape her presence. it makes him hard. disgustingly hard. a physiological reaction to his own imagination of a younger woman in her most vulnerable state.

sitting on his bed, nose pressed deep into the pillow where bub’s head once laid, fisting his shameful, dirty cock to his own perverted mind. he feels a deep sense of betrayal to his best friend, lusting after his awkward daughter. his weird, beautiful, sexy, young daughter. in the thick of his own strokes, he thinks about how if he could just get bub alone, make her feel not as weird around him, then she could so easily fall for him. letting him take her virginity, feel her cunt tighten around his huge cock, tell her it’s gonna be okay and he was there to only make her feel good. he finally spills into his hand when he imagines cumming inside her, marking her, filling her up with his seed and making her feel special.

she’s untouchable, a precious gem locked away for eternity. logan just has to come up with the perfect heist to steal her away.

[bloatedandalone04]

He’s Got My Name

➪the one where everything a.j. does, he does for you.

Warnings: spoilers for takers 2010, once again - no one will read this, swearing, heists, robbing of a bank, mentions of guns, kissing, brief angst if you squint, mentions of cancer, reader is very ill, alcohol consumption, smoking, mentions of blood, pda, indication of smut

Word Count: 3.8k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine♡

“Alright, sweetheart, it’s your turn,” John’s voice sounded throughout your ear piece. You quickly pulled open the door to the stairwell and made your way up to the floor that held a plethora of offices. “You remember what to say?”

“Of course,” you state quietly as you confidently walk down the rows of desks. The employees even didn’t give you a second glance as you passed by them and towards one of the empty cubicles. Your skirt and suit jacket made you look like you actually worked here, as did your heels and high bun. After glancing around at the few employees that were near, you pick up the phone from the desk and bring it to your ear that didn’t have the earpiece. 

You dial the number and wait a few seconds before you hear a voice answer, “News 14 hotline,”

“Hi, yes, I’m from the FedCal bank, downtown LA,” you say quickly in a panicked voice, making the pitch sound a bit higher for good measure. “There’s a robbery in progress.”

“Are they still in the bank?”

“Yes,” you answer sharply and make eye contact with a man across the room who was also on the phone. He gives you a concerned look, and you knew you had to wrap this up. “They’re a few floors above mine.”

The person was in the middle of asking another question when you hung up, dropped the phone back down onto the desk and stood up straight. Smoothing out your jacket, you stride back over to the door, smiling brightly at the few employees who looked up at you. 

You could hear the faint sounds of the guys upstairs as they robbed the place, and you all but slammed the door behind you once you were back in the stairwell. As you hopped down the stairs, you reached into your pocket when you felt your phone begin to vibrate. “Yes, my love?” You answer as you reach down to rid your feet of the heels, holding both of them in one hand as you continue to descend. 

“Angel,” A.J.’s voice rang through the phone and had you grinning to yourself. “Did you call the hotline?”

“I did,” you confirm as you neared the bottom floor, holding the phone away from you as a cough raked through your body. After swallowing the small amount of blood that pooled in your mouth, you bring it back to you. “They should be here any minute now.”

“Perfect,” he said. “You’re perfect.”

“So I’ve heard,” you tease as you enter the lobby of the bank, swinging your heels in your hand. You got a few odd looks as you walked along the marbled floor in your bare feet, but your lack of shoes would be the last thing on their mind once they found out what was happening just a few floors above them.

“Alright, get out of there, pretty girl,” A.J. said and you could just picture him blowing out the smoke from his cigarette. “Don’t get caught up when the cops arrive.”

“I won’t,” you promise and stick to it as you push open the front entrance of the bank and step out onto the sidewalk. “Be careful.”

“I will,” came his reply and you grinned when you noticed someone on the phone across the street, panic evident on their face as they were undoubtedly talking to the police and reporting the robbery. When you hear the unmistakable sound of a helicopter approaching, you knew he had to go. “I’ll see you later, baby.”

“See you soon,” you say and end the call, reaching up to let your hair down.  Turning the corner just in time to see the news chopper fly over the roof of the bank, you knew it was only a matter of seconds before A.J. began to play his role of an injured security guard in order to secure their ride out of there.

-

 Hours go by since the robbery, and after blowing up the news helicopter and parting ways, the group reunited a few hours later at the club they frequented. A.J. fell back against the leather armchair as John announced that Ghost was back and out of jail. “So I walk into my house and he’s standing there, drinking my whiskey. I was going to shoot him in the back of his head,”

“You should’ve,” Jake says as he hands A.J. a tall glass of bourbon. “The guy’s been out twenty four hours and already wants to do a job. He’s crazy.”

“Or he’s got huge balls,” Jesse offers from his spot on the stool. 

“Yeah, Ghost doesn’t play when it comes to money,” John adds, glancing over at Gordon. “He’s too smart for that.”

“The bastard’s not that smart,” A.J. rasps as he drinks the bourbon. “He’s clever, not smart.”

As the five of them conversed about the return of their former member, Rachel entered the room in a small black dress, looking nothing short of beautiful, but she wasn’t who A.J. was waiting for. 

Rachel smiled at the guys before sitting on Jake’s lap, and he grinned at the way his best friend got all flustered around his new fiancée. It was the same way A.J. acted around you when you first got engaged a few months back, and it was still how he acted now. 

He just couldn’t get enough of you. And that was obvious as his face lit up under the blue lights when he saw you enter the room a few seconds later. You were wearing a silver dress that sparkled under the LED lights and the slit in the fabric had him biting down hard on his lip as he caught sight of the exposed skin of your leg and a bit of your thigh. 

“Hi, boys,” you greet, purposely looking at everyone else other than A.J. 

Tease.

“Hey, sweetheart,” John said back as you smiled at him.

“Another successful heist?” You ask, already knowing the answer as you step further into the room. 

“You know it,” A.J. answers and you finally meet his eye. He looked so unbelievably fine in this lighting, and you held back a moan when beckoned you over to him with a curl of his finger. “C’mere, baby.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. 

You were crossing the room within seconds and sitting down on his lap, your legs draped over his thighs as he placed his free hand on your lower back. His lips attach to your neck as your arm wraps around his shoulder, your left hand coming to rest on his chest. Your big engagement ring was on full display and it sparkled under the blue lights of the VIP room. “I missed you today,” you said, already breathless at the feeling of his lips on your neck. 

“Mmm,” he hummed and brushed his nose against yours, turning your head so you were facing him. He kissed you softly, a groan leaving the back of his throat as he pulled you tighter against him. While you were a bit shy at first about kissing him like this in public, A.J. couldn’t care less, and he proved that by guiding you into countless makeout sessions that took place in front of the guys or just in the general public. After two and a half years, you grew to love engaging in PDA with him. “I missed you.”

You adjusted his bowtie as the other four guys fell into a conversation you couldn’t be bothered to listen in on, and neither could A.J. You were on his lap and wearing the most sinful dress he had ever seen on you, and he’s seen you in a lot of sinful dresses, how could he focus on anything else? 

“I hear you blew up the chopper after hijacking it,” you trail off, your mouth directly next to his ear as you two fell into your own little world. 

A.J. ran his hand up and down your hip, running his nose along your jaw as he nodded. “I did,”

You hummed and leaned closer to him. “I wish I could’ve been there to see that,” you whisper and make your voice as seductive as possible. You trace the skin below his ear with your tongue and feel the grunt that vibrated against his chest. “You know how sexy I find it when you do stuff like that.”

“I do,” he said and allowed your hand to grip the side of his face and turn his head so you could press your lips to his in a searing kiss. You run your tongue along his lower lip before his mouth opens and it brushes against his. He noisily breaks the kiss and you reach up to fix his hat that had become crooked during the whole event. “I wish you were there, too, baby, but this one was a bit too risky for you to have been able to stay. I would’ve loved to have had you on my lap while we were in the air, just like this, but I didn’t even like having you in the building with everything that’s going on right now.”

You shake your head and trace your index finger over the maze of freckles on his face. “You don’t need to worry about me,”

He gives you a pointed look and you sigh, eyeing the half empty glass in his hand.

You reached for it, but he was quicker and held it far away from you, his hand moving to tightly grip your waist in a warning. “C’mon,” you whine, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. “Just a sip.”

While they usually worked on him, nothing you could ever do would get him to allow you to drink even a drop of alcohol. “Not a chance, pretty girl,” 

You huffed and slumped against him, watching him down the rest of the bourbon before he set the glass on the table next to the chair. 

“Don’t get all upset with me,” he says once he sat back against the chair, his hand resuming its movement on your hip. His lips were glistening with remnants of the booze and you eyed them with a sense of want. 

And he knew that.

With a sigh, he uses his now free hand to brush away the fallen strands of hair from your face. “Alright,” he murmured, watching the way your eyes lit up. He was never good at denying you completely of the things you desired. “Have your taste.”

Once again, you didn’t need to be told twice. 

You lean in and eagerly press your lips to his, your tongue shooting out to run along his bourbon coated mouth. This way you weren’t actually consuming the drink, but you were getting the faintest taste of it. 

The kiss quickly heats up, and you were mainly licking his lips at this point. Once you are satisfied you pull away and press your forehead against his, knocking his hat out of place again. “Mm,” you hummed as you ran your tongue over your own lips, and A.J. held back a moan at the sight. “Thank you.”

He just grabbed his hat and tossed it next to the glass on the table. A.J. took your hand in his, his thumb turning the ring on your finger a few times as you snuggled up against him. “How are you feeling today?” He asked quietly so the others wouldn’t hear.

You lace your fingers with his and bring your joined hands up to your mouth to be able to press a kiss to the back of his. “I’m fine, Jay, really,” you tell him, glancing into his worry filled eyes. “It’s a better day today. It’s good.”

He wasn’t sure if he should believe your words, but you never gave him a reason to worry about you ever being untruthful to him, so he accepted your answer and pulled you even closer to him, suddenly wanting to take you back home and end the night early. 

And he would’ve done that, except when you excused yourself a few minutes later and he was met with the sight of Ghost, he knew his night had just begun. 

-

A.J.’s body was covered in a thin layer of sweat, as was yours, and he was struggling to hold himself above you while he got you to yet another release. 

It was nearing four in the morning, and a few minutes after he brought you to your peak, he was there as well and was finally able to collapse on the bed next to you. He falls onto his back and glances at out the window, the still open blinds doing nothing to keep out the four am moon. If your shared apartment was on one of the lower floors of the building, A.J. would’ve put the time aside to close the blinds and shield your body from any prying eyes, but seeing as it was on the thirteenth floor out of twenty, he didn’t feel the need. 

He huffs out uneven breaths, his arm blindly wrapping around your waist when he feels you move to lay your head on his bare chest. 

He had a long day, and it was nearing the end, with a new day just a few hours from now. After another successful heist, counting just how much money they received from said heist, finding out about a former ally being released from prison, and being roped into another job from said ally, he was finally able to end his day in the way he had grown so accustomed to. 

A.J. loved spending hours on end with you wrapped up in the sheets, and that was before he allowed body to fully relax and welcome sleep to take over. As cliché as it sounded, your bodies really did fit so well together. He couldn’t remember the last time he had let himself fall this deeply for someone, in fact, he was sure he had never felt the things he did with you before.

Long story short; you had become his entire world just five months into the relationship. You were everything to him.

Once his breathing went back to normal, A.J. turned his head and ran his fingers through your hair, which was a bit damp from sweat. Your eyes were already on him, and he couldn’t help himself as he leaned down to press what felt like the millionth kiss of the night to your lips.

He sighed when he pulled away. “I should tell you before you find out from someone else,” he began.

You lifted your head so it was resting higher on his shoulder now. “Tell me what?”

A.J. ran his free hand through his messy, post-sex hair. “Ghost is out now,” he says and you furrow your brows. “Let him out this morning.”

You bit down on your kiss swollen lip. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“Because he was released during the heist. I didn’t find out about it until a few hours ago,” he explained, running his fingers up and down your bare back. “He showed up at the club tonight.”

You prop yourself up on your elbow. “He did?” You ask and he nods. “Where was I?”

“Bathroom,” he hummed, his eyes flickering all over your face. He wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked, but held off as it wasn’t really the time to get into that right now. Damn Ghost. Still, he asked, “You took your meds, right? After you had that bourbon?”

You scoffed. “I didn’t even get a fair taste of it,”

“But you still thanked me for it,” he grinned and you rolled your eyes. “You took them, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed and tangled your legs with his. “What did Ghost want? When he came to the club?” 

A.J. sighed again. “He wants us to help him do a job,”

“A job? He hasn’t even been out for a day yet,”

“Yeah, well, no one ever accused him of being smart,”

You laughed quietly, your hand tracing over the ink on his left arm. Underneath the faded Yak, in much more vibrant and fresher ink, was your first and middle name. It was in a cursive font, and the two names were spaced out enough that it wrapped around half of his bicep, and could be easily read to anyone who looked at him head on. “Can I ask you to promise me something?”

“You know you can, pretty girl,” he answered quietly. 

“Don’t do anything too reckless, please,” you mumbled against the side of his neck. “You never do more than one job a year, let alone one right after the other. Just, please, be careful. Nothing too crazy, please.”

A.J. laughed, but not in a mocking way. He couldn’t deny the warm feeling that took over his body at your undying concern for him, despite him doing this kind of work for many years now. He was a rookie at it during the early years, but now he was more experienced, and he had you to come home to. “You worried about me, pretty girl?” 

“I always am,” you reply and watch his mouth open, but you cut him off before he could even say anything, “And, yeah, I know you’ll always come back to me and I know about the risks and blah blah blah. Still doesn’t change anything.”

A.J. laughed again, rolling you onto your back and hovering over you once more. “I appreciate your concern, baby. And I love you for it,” he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your lips, and you held back the tiny moan that threatened to escape. “And I promise I won’t do anything too reckless or crazy this time around. I’ve got you to come back to, remember?”

-

Once A.J. finished explaining Ghost’s plan to you, you shake your head and look up from your place on the ottoman. “I don’t like it,” you say and lift your head to meet his eyes. “I don’t like it at all. It seems like he’s making you guys do all the work while he gets the easy job.”

A.J. nods, lifting his hand in a form of gesture to his words, “Well, he was in jail, baby,” he points out. “It makes sense that he’d want to be more careful this time around.” 

“Still,” you mumble. “I don’t like him getting you to do his dirty work. This was his idea, right? He came up with it? So why isn’t he more involved in it? Wouldn’t it make more sense for him to be more active in this? He knows you guys have already done your job for the year. I mean, he came up with the rule to never do more than one heist a year.”

“Yeah, well, if Ghost needs money, then he’s getting money,” he muttered. “And with the amount he says are in these trucks, I’m not opposed to going all in on this one.”

You raise a brow and fold your arms across your chest. “How much did he say is in them?”

He met your eye as he said, “Twenty million,”

Your eyes widen and you blow out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Jesus,”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m not jumping at the idea of turning this one down,”

Nodding, you play with your ring. “I get it, really, I do,” you start, trying to figure out how to voice your concerns about the whole thing. “But why do you need that much money? You got a lot from the bank yesterday, isn’t that more than enough to get you through the year?”

“It is,” he agreed and brought the whiskey glass up to his lips. “Well over being more than enough to get us through the year.”

Your heart swelled when he corrected your mistake of not including yourself in your prior question. “Then why are you so adamant on doing this job? You know you don’t owe him anything, right? Ghost got himself into prison, not you or the other guys.”

“I know, pretty girl, and that’s not why I’m doing this,” he finished the drink and set the glass down on the mini bar you and he had in the living room of your apartment. “Think about it. Twenty million? Think about how much that will help with your medication and treatment and bills. I’ve saved up most of the cost, but with this, you could be cancer free by the end of the year.” 

You winced at that, hating the fact that he was doing this for you, to make sure you get the treatment you were required to have to save your life. You were already two surgeries in, and well over a hundred thousand dollars in medical bills, but this was too much. 

It was a risky job, and you had an awful feeling about all of it. “You can’t do this for me, A.J.,” you begged, staring up at him. 

He just gave you a look that left no room for arguments. “I can,” he said and you felt so small under his gaze. “And I am. If it means getting you back into that hospital for what could be your final few months of treatment, then I’m doing it. No questions.”

“A.J., think about this,” you pleaded. “You don’t need to do this for me. You can’t.”

“I need you,” he grunted, running his hand through his hair. His hat had been discarded a little while ago, but his hair was still a bit messy from it. “I’m not doing this without you.”

“Doing what?” You asked desperately. 

“Living,” he answered like it was the easiest question he had ever been asked during the twenty nine years of his life. “You’re sick, and the meds aren’t working. Not as much as the surgery will. This will save you, don’t you get that?”

You shook your head and looked down at the floor, unsure of what to say. 

A.J. stepped towards you and crouched down, taking your hands in his. “You won’t have to be in pain anymore, and we can finally continue our lives together, debt and cancer free. Don’t you want that?”

You furrowed your brows. “Of course I want that,” 

He nodded and laced your fingers together. “Then that’s it,” he stated. “I’m doing this job, and I’m getting you the money that is needed to keep you in my life.”

You wanted to fight him on this some more, but you knew his mind was made up. And it had been since the minute Ghost told him about the plan. 

So, instead of fighting him, you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his. He stands up with you in his arms, his lips meshing against yours in a needy kiss. “I love you,” you murmur against his mouth. “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” he said back and gently guided you towards the couch, letting his body hover over yours once you landed on the cushion with a soft thud.

-

Part 2

[ivoryand-gold]

Epic The Musical Reaction: Thunder Saga ⛈️⚡️⛈️⚡️⛈️⚡️

SO many thoughts and feelings after the Troy & Cyclops Sagas (Jorge’s Version) and THUNDER SAGA. this is a LONG one, but i’ve put what i can put into words, so here my initial 24 hour-post release reaction! Spoilers galore ahead!

TROY

THE HORSE AND THE INFANT

the ensemble is *chef’s kiss*

i love how gentle Jay’s voice is when he’s singing “penelope” and “telemachus”

the battle clashing is so good!!

overall Luke’s voice is a little softer and feels less thunderous than og so i wonder if that was to contrast thunder bringer? not a complaint just an interesting choice!

don’t love the change to “i don’t think you’re ready” but the rest of zeus’ part is gorgeous

he sounds like a kid pleading, making thunder bringer even sadder when he does it again later 😭😭😭

JUST A MAN

instrumental has a chokehold on me and Jay’s vocals are so smooth

“the view” drop is a lovely choice

😭😭😭 “who’s fighting for his life” 😭😭😭

THE STRINGSSSSSS

od’s first “im just a man” being so soft and now in comparison to eurylochus’ version is devastating

FULL SPEED AHEAD

i like how Jay’s voice starts soft and builds power as he’s shaking the guilt of the infant in order to lead his men again

Armando is just so solid. truly the most consistent and solid vocals, which is perfect for the purpose his character serves in the first act of the story

i love every once in a while Jorge makes a surprising pronunciation choice that just tickles me

there were a few specific lines i was worried would lose their magic but “you and i’ll go ahead” still sounds perfect

again, ensemble is eatinggg

OPEN ARMS

Steven stuck out so much to me for some reason. more so when i listened on my tv, but still a bit on my phone as well. the mixing on him feels a little off compared to everyone else to my ear, which is odd compared to the bell-like perfect clarity the stolen version has. this isn’t a diss to Steven, he has a beautiful voice and is the perfect polites which may be why this production difference sticks out more than any one else’s. idk maybe i’m tripping but it feels like he lost some of the innocence in his voice as a result 🥺

i wonder if the lotus eaters sound a little deeper to distinguish them from the winions

i love the “nom nom nom,” “scary cave,” and “that way” 😂😂😂

WARRIOR OF THE MIND

Teagan is so solid it’s unreal, athena songs can’t help but be bops and aside from the “villain god songs” are my favs

thought it was “you lied to me,” not “enlighten me” until yesterday 😅

CYCLOPS

POLYPHEMUS

ik after the ts master’s heist that re-recorded masters have to be distinguishable for legal reasons, but it’s so interesting what and how choices were made here, such as polyphemus’ voice change

“watch out” and the mixing leading into Survive is perfection

SURVIVE

the fighting is excellent

OKAY GUITAR???

the harmonizing is stunning

the deaths are even more brutal 😭😭

ik he squished polites but polyphemus is so pitiful and they are in his house, you could never make me hate him in this version 🥺 (in hades 2 yeah fuck that guy lolol)

REMEMBER THEM

eurylochus screaming is very good

Jay’s vocals are DELICIOUS!! this song might be the biggest improvement for him.

the crew sounds more reverential and mournful while od grows in anger throughout which i like how that builds into the name reveal

GAH od’s no and athena’s no are both more terrifying now that they exchanged energy

background vocals during the build to his name reveal seem much more pronounced, which is interesting but i love it

“hey cyclops” really feels like the culmination of all the anger in this songs and then we get hit with the new “odysseus”

MY GOODBYE

platonic breakup song of my dreams 😩😩😩

oooh that growl on “waste” is everything

her disappointment is a little sadder in this one

nailed it, kept the magic, i have nothing but love for this song

RE-RECORDINGS OVERALL

Jorge’s vocals are so much clearer throughout and his acting is so much more nuanced! I didn’t have any criticism for the original version before, but having them to compare now makes me really appreciate his growth and depth of understanding of the character arc Ody’s on in the new ones.

the mixing is so smooth and I LOVE the new vocals for the ensemble

STRINGSSS

such a glow up on the cover art!!!

every song was either an improvement or just as good, but i need more time with open arms to decipher my full feelings on that one

i’m really glad Jorge did this.

⭐️ REMINDER: STREAM NEW VERSIONS ONLY FROM NOW ON SO MR JALAPEÑO CAN BE HELLA PAID YO ⭐️

now…

THUNDER

SUFFERING

i didn’t consider Jorge had lied about the sirens not being included until the end, so at first i thought it was a dream or something, but realized the heavy production meant some god/monster fuckery + the repeated trying to get him in the water + use of Penelope’s voice it became apparent to me just in time for the turn.

this song is so cute and ridiculous

the tonal dissonance was jarring but then on additional passes it’s so perfect to express how out of place what’s happening is. it’s confusing because it’s wrong

Anna’s delivery of “of course” and “oh no” are so playful, i love that he found an creative way to include more penelope

shy my ass lolol that was around when it clicked

also since they’re sirens, this is what he wants to hear most which is sad to think about if this is how he desires their marriage to be when he returns 😓. no matter of love or support can fix all the pain and guilt he’ll carry the rest of his life, but that hope is all he has

DIFFERENT BEAST

i love that “my real wife knows” is gonna probably mirror penelope saying something like “my real husband would know” in the ithaca saga

the layering of voices in the chorus

12 years or so is SO funny

i’d be scared so shitless

“nah you wouldn’t have spared me” and “let them drown” delivery

the crew’s turn from “we” to “he” then od singing “kill them all” before the following 3 songs is UNHINGED

SCYLLA

i was most excited for this song going in and was NOT disappointed!

scylla vocals in the backdrop to eurylochus’ confession feels reminiscent of puppeteer after his attempted confession with circe layered over. this time odysseus makes a different choice 😭

not much to say > i’ve got a secret > i opened the windbag > *silence* > light up 6 torches no words just ????????

DROWN - CHOKE - BLEED is so crunchy i want to mix it into my granola

the monstrous scylla belting is EVERYTHING and left me wanting so much more, so i guess i just have to repeat this song forever (but if Jay wants to release a Scylla extended cut i would be the #1 supporter)

“we are the same you and i” after his transformation into the monster is the stuff music is made for

MUTINY

luck runs out reprisal with the strings is gonna be the end of me

“crazy and mad”

he said gaslight me PLSSSS

eurylochus losing his mind with the loss of his faith in od will leave me in shambles for the foreseeable future

“SAY SOMETHING”

“I CANT” 😬😬😬

electric guitar is guitarringggg

there is no price he won’t pay- the moment of clarity for the crew

yeah od why did you think they’d still trust you lol

im still not over the fact that burr and hamilton switching it up at the end is what sealed their fates and i imagine the same will remain true of ody and eury repeating that devastating irony

i wasn’t sure who would win the duel or if they’d keep the cows in, so as soon as i heard that cow i was like it’s over they’re so cooked they can’t conceive of how bad this is gonna be. helios don’t play about those cows (even though i’m inclined to think Jorge is switching it to be apollo for the sake of simplicity for epic which would also explain why apollo’s part of god games is still unknown even though his part is first)

wind god/sun god is so special to me

eurylochus isn’t himself anymore, odysseus was his hope

“please don’t tell me you’re about to do what i think you’ll do”

“ODY-“ brb screaming crying throwing up

“im just a man” 😭

he didn’t even get to enjoy a final meal, they died for nothing and it’s so damn sad

the acting in this may be the best in the entire musical

“captain?” 🥺😭 his hunger is so great and his spirit is so broken

“WHO DO YOU THINK HE’LL SEND???” is so desperate and well delivered

⚡️⚡️⚡️THUNDER BRINGER⚡️⚡️⚡️

the thunder and chanting and electric guitar and percussion and LUKE’S VOICE and-

the lyrical implications are so appropriately horrible but the beat is seductive and his voice is so powerful and it slides and shoots like lightning strikes or thunder rumbling might- culminating into a banger that captures the king of the gods’ essence perfectly. he is divine judgment and i would say that he abuses that but he doesn’t even see it that way. you implicitly can’t refuse his power, you never had the option and it’s terrifying and so damn zeus.

i truly have no notes that aren’t appreciation and awe. i won’t declare so definitively out of awareness that recency bias is in play, but this may best ruthlessness as my favorite.

odysseus will hate rain and the ocean for the rest of his life, they mean one of the big 3 is coming to fuck up his whole life 😅😅😅

“tell me” and “enlighten me” have me so giddy, he’s enjoying himself so much lol

so many GORGEOUS line deliveries in this whole song. this entire song is GORGEOUS line deliveries. one of my favs is how “choose” and “you or your crew” is said like a gentle interlude for the showier singing but is the most devastating part. the climax is in the quiet for this song

“please don’t make me do this” callback is lethal. odysseus never would’ve made another choice but the way they respectively play out and how he feels about them are brutal.

“let me take the suffering from you” he’s drawing from the siren’s version of penelope to convince himself he can live with the guilt. he uses her as an excuse time and time again to do the worst things, so much so that that’s how he sees her now. he’s desperate for her to be that because how else can he face himself? the one time he looked inward he saw a monster, no wonder he always has to look to/for her.

“captain?”

“i have to see her”

“but we’ll die”

“i know”

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

they sound like scared children and i’m NOT OKAY. eurylochus gave everything for 12 years and odysseus told him he would do ANYTHING to save eury specifically when he risked his life for the pig-ified crew and not only was that not true, he ultimately chose to let him and 35 other men die in a final betrayal after withering his hope, faith, and mind. odysseus is devastated and racked with guilt but it was never a choice. he merely sees himself more honestly now, not the hero he saw in the mirror at the start of the journey, or even back on aeaea.

ik it’s the chorus but also it’s just like zeus to make it about himself again as he decimates these men. his all-powerful divine judgement is his right and stands as his thesis, as ruthlessness for mercy of self does for poseidon.

it sounds like a lullaby at the end like it does in THATI and Just a Man. innocence has died for the final time, there’s nothing good in him left to sacrifice. all he has is the hope that what’s left can still be loved and accepted by penelope because his love of self is gone. yet all that remains is selfishness. he’s calcified into himself, and this makes me hungry to re-read his character study in Circe by Madeline Miller because they do the same thing: Epic reveals this truth through his own perception of himself while Circe does it through the memories of those who loved him and most desperately wanted to the lies he believed about himself to be true.

FINAL THOUGHTS

i will NEVER hate eurylochus. he was top 3 before, but after this saga he is definitively my favorite character. were there devastating consequences to his actions? i mean yeah but also odysseus expected unconditional faith after making the original decision that put them in danger in the first place. his grief and/or pride (depending on how you interpret epic’s depiction of od) and ignoring eury/athena is what put them all in poseidon’s sights. he was clever, yes, but what did that ultimately amount to? it makes all the sense in the world that eurylochus lost faith in his cleverness when he saw the consequences and then just when od earned back his trust, he sacrificed 6 of their men without even trying to be clever. it’s all tragic and if you’re withholding criticism for od but can’t hold nuance for eury then we are having very different experiences, idk what to tell you lol.

danger motifffff

i hope the crew haunts od’s ass so we can hear them again, but either way what an expertly executed ending for those characters and that chapter of odysseus’ life. brava.

this may be the best saga. again- recency bias- but it’s certainly going to be one of the best when all is said and done. THANK YOU JAY. THANK YOU ARMANDO. THANK YOU ANNA. THANK YOU LUKE. THANK YOU KJ.

so far my ranking is reverse track order

i hope we get the wisdom saga sooner than later because i’m greedy for good art lol but i’d wait however long Jay needs for another saga as well executed as this one

10/10 acting, 10/10 singing, 10/10 production. so much heart, skill, and talent has been put into this project and i’m really happy to be on this journey of appreciating and analyzing it with y’all in real time ☺️

i’m most looking forward to calypso and penelope as characters, but god games, get in the water, and hold them down as songs in each of the remaining sagas. (also my boy hephaestus)

if you made it this far, holy shit thank you. if you have money to spare please sponsor a family on Operation Olive Branch, also stream songs with proceeds being raised for liberation (such as Revolutin’ by Amira Unplugged), and Free Palestine, Congo, Sudan, Tigray, West Papúa, Haití, Hawaii, Armenia, Uyghur, and Turtle Island til it’s backwards! None of us are free until we’re all free.

[ofliterarynature]

TBR TAKEDOWN: Week 13 (Aug 25)

TLDR: I have too many unread books, and I’m asking tumblr to help me downsize. Pick one or none, and comment if you can - a convincing sentence is worth a dozen votes! You’re also welcome to just choose the one that sounds the worst :D Book descriptions below the cut, see my pinned post for more info.

Artemis by Andy Weir

[For reference, I *did* like The Martian but did *not* like Project Hail Mary]

Jasmine Bashara never signed up to be a hero. She just wanted to get rich.

Not crazy, eccentric-billionaire rich, like many of the visitors to her hometown of Artemis, humanity's first and only lunar colony. Just rich enough to move out of her coffin-sized apartment and eat something better than flavored algae. Rich enough to pay off a debt she's owed for a long time.

So when a chance at a huge score finally comes her way, Jazz can't say no. Sure, it requires her to graduate from small-time smuggler to full-on criminal mastermind. And it calls for a particular combination of cunning, technical skills, and large explosions--not to mention sheer brazen swagger. But Jazz has never run into a challenge her intellect can't handle, and she figures she's got the 'swagger' part down.

The trouble is, engineering the perfect crime is just the start of Jazz's problems. Because her little heist is about to land her in the middle of a conspiracy for control of Artemis itself.

Trapped between competing forces, pursued by a killer and the law alike, even Jazz has to admit she's in way over her head. She'll have to hatch a truly spectacular scheme to have a chance at staying alive and saving her city.

Jazz is no hero, but she is a very good criminal.

That'll have to do.

The Probability of Miracles by Wendy Wunder

Dry, sarcastic, sixteen-year-old Cam Cooper has spent the last seven years in and out hospitals. The last thing she wants to do in the short life she has left is move 1,500 miles away to Promise, Maine - a place known for the miraculous events that occur there. But it's undeniable that strange things happen in Promise: everlasting sunsets; purple dandelions; flamingoes in the frigid Atlantic; an elusive boy named Asher; and finally, a mysterious envelope containing a list of things for Cam to do before she dies. As Cam checks each item off the list, she finally learns to believe - in love, in herself, and even in miracles.

A debut novel from an immensely talented new writer, The Probability of Miracles crackles with wit, romance and humor and will leave readers laughing and crying with each turn of the page.

Merchants of Culture by John B Thompson

For nearly five centuries, the world of book publishing remained largely static. But at the dawn of the twenty-first century, the industry faces a combination of economic pressures and technological change that is forcing publishers to alter their practices and think hard about the future of the book.

John Thompson's riveting account dissects the roles of publishers, agents, and booksellers in the United States and Britain, charting their transformation since the 1960s. Offering an in-depth analysis of how the digital revolution is changing the game today, Merchants of Culture is the one book that anyone with a stake in the industry needs to read.

[existentialcrisistime]

D&D: Honor Among Thieves (Xenk/Edgin) fic rec list:

These are just based on those I've read and loved so far. There are so many incredible works coming out of this new fandom that I'm sure I'll have enough recs for a second post in another month or so.

Because this turned onto a bit of a long post, the recs are below the cut.

I've marked the rating by each fic, but please do mind the tags!

Curse of the Green Hag by @moorishflower (E, 16k)

Xenk contracts a fuck-or-die curse and turns up on Edgin's doorstep for the first time since Neverwinter. Also contains an excellent cameo from Holga, a bit of bondage, Xenk's first time, and A Lot of emotions. And of course the actual smut is top tier. Already wanting to read this one again.

High Praise Indeed by enchantedsleeper (T, 3k)

Xenk stops by Holga and Edgin's cottage to find Edgin in the throes of a breakup. In the process of trying to persuade Edgin of his many worthy qualities, he accidentally reveals a little too much. Short and very sweet, with cameos from Holga and Kira. Would recommend for fans of pining idiots.

in the absence of truth by @floralprintshark (E, 13k)

Five times Ed says that he hates Xenk and one time he doesn't. Yes, a 5+1 things, but oh it's so much more than that! There are heists and hijinks, accidental asshole Edgin, uncertain and inexperienced Xenk, and a hint of polyamory between Simon and Doric, but the whole party are featured and written perfectly here. Also contains Many emotions. I sent this one to the group chat, and we were ALL screaming about it (in the best way)

Universal Glue by Korwwa (E, 10k)

A rescue mission goes wrong, and Xenk and Edgin get caught in, yes, a glue trap. The premise may sound like a crack fic, but it's definitely taken seriously, whilst still being very fun. Plus a wee bit of angst for (delicious) seasoning.

Scraping the Moss Off the Standing Stones by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (E, 4k)

Established relationship, Xenk comes home after a long time away and Edgin takes care of him. Oh boy, this fic sure packs a lot into just 4k words, and I feel like the author just Gets how I imagine Xenk - always seen as holy or evil, but just wanting to be treated like a person. Also very hot - I'm weak for some well-written dirty talk and this is perfect.

When the well runs dry by demon_faith (G, 2k)

Part one of the Time Heals All Wounds series, which can either be read as a series or as stand-alone fics. Established relationship, Edgin is badly injured, and Xenk is unable to heal him. A classic hurt/comfort with a good bit of Edgin whump, and Xenk struggling with the reality of that.

On the edge of a blade by demon_faith (T, 3k)

Part two of the series, again established relationship. This time, Xenk gets badly hurt, and it's up to Edgin to take care of him. Heavy on both the hurt and the comfort.

lay on hands by @hauntedfalcon (E, 2k)

A getting-together/first-time fic, with a healthy dose of body worship. Xenk gets off on Edgin's metaphors. Beautifully written, and also my initial thoughts were - this is an author who sure is clued up on the names of medieval clothing/armor.

half your life (you've been hooked on death) by roundtriptojupiter (T, 2.5k)

Edgin struggles to process the events of the past six months, when Xenk turns up at his doorstep. Or, Edgin and Xenk process grief together, then kiss about it. A great exploration of Edgin's emotions, not only regarding Zia and Holga, but of the other people he may have harmed along the way.

We can burn much brighter (if we don't look back) by enchantedsleeper (T, 6k)

Xenk apprehends Forge and learns of the events that transpired at Neverwinter. Grappling with the fact that his past almost repeated itself while he was too far away to help, he encounters Edgin. Such a lovely post-movie fic, exploring just how Edgin and Xenk are processing their feelings in the wake of it.

Do you know you'll never fly alone? by MayGlenn (T, 1.2k)

Something a bit more light-hearted to end the recs list on: a fix-it of sorts, but for the poor undead guy in the post-credits scene. Xenk takes Edgin on a late night ride, to fix an issue he'd left behind, but maybe for something more also...

And that's that for now! Please do feel free to recommend your favourite D&D: Honor Among Thieves fics in return, or yell about which of these you loved the most. My comments and inbox are always open :))

And to the fic writers (and all fic writers out there), thank you so much for sharing these stories with us! You're all absolutely wonderful, talented people <3

[tparker48]

Request for anonymous

Fog scoured over the cul-de-sac as the sun rose from its curtain of mist. In a house at the ed of the street, a tall man named Guro Awakened from his slumber lumbering himself out of bed as he stared groggily at the clock.

“6AM..” he rubbed his chin, “Fuck we overslept, we need to get to airport..” he stuck his toothbrush in his mouth before heading to the bedroom, two lumps bunched beneath a sheet on the windowsill. He prodded at their curvatures with a finger. "Brock, Jerry, up and adam! We're gonna be late for the flight if we’re not gone in a few minutes."

The lumps shift beneath the sheets, growing in size as the cotton balls surrounding them dispersed to the floor. Scrawny arms poked from one side of the cover, a pair of feet extending from the other.

"Oh..shit.." one of the tinies stretched, their curly hair spiraling spreading from the cover like wires. “You just had to pick the morning flight..” Jerry rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He looked to the lump next to him, nasally rumbles lingering beneath them as he nudged a foot into its side. “Brock, stop acting like a brick and get up already.”

The exposed toes curled, cowering beneath the sheets as the tiny groaned groggily. "Why’d you have to go and kick me?” he wiped the slobber from the corner of his mouth, “ I was just having the best dream of my life."

"You say that every night, dear."

"Well it's true."

Guro rolled his eyes, taking to the window as he plucked the two from the platform. He lumbard toward a table, placing them on top as he made his way for his luggage in the chair. Today was the day the three of them went on their trip to Vegas. Since he was a kid he always dreamed of visiting there, his fantasy running wild of the possibilities he’d find. Fame, fortune, hell even the chance to see good actors. His mind thrived on the potential for him to explore, but nothing spiked his interest more, than to find someone who could take on his size.

He dabbled in a few hook ups during his time in the city, managing to fish a few guys here and there looking for a good time. But his tall physique was like kryptonite to potential seekers, each cowering before the colossal ass that spreads before him. He had no luck here, but that didn’t mean he won’t find one out there.

Finishing the rest of his packing, he placed the two love birds into his pocket before heading out of the door and to his car. And with that they were off to the airport, Guro taking the south highway that shortened the 40 minute drive through traffic. By the time they reached the main entrance, the sun rose over the hills, its crimson glow shining over the land.

Guro parked the car as he fetched the two from his pocket. "Alright we got about an hour before the flight boards.”

“Perfect, then that leaves us plenty of time to prepare.” Jerry hopped onto the glove compartment and kicked the loose panel, a bottle of anti-digest jostling to the edge. “I knew these would come in handy someday, it’s the perfect heist for the stomach.”

“About that, why again are you guys going in my stomach?”

“You’re the one that said the cost was too expensive for the three of us, so I thought of an alternative.” Jerry plucked one of the pills. “You get to sit all cozy in your chair, while me and hubby travel in your stomach.”

“It still doesn’t sound appealing when I hear it a second time around.” Guro said. “Having you two inside me sounds way too weird.”

“Relax, it’ll be fine.” Brock chimed in, “Just think of me and Jerry like skittles.”

He shuddered at the thought of swallowing his two friends, looking to his watch as time edged toward seven o’ clock. With a sigh, he grabbed a water bottle from the cup holder, untwisting the cap of the pills as he two. He washed it down his throat, before picking up Jerry and Brock, hovering them in front of his mouth.

“Here goes nothing..” He parted his lips, sprawling his tongue like a carpet as he tilted his head.

His tongue squished as the two tinies hopped into his gaping maw, sliding down the muscular appendage like penguins as they darted into his awaiting gullet. His lips scrunched as his throat worked at their complex forms, working them past the back of his tongue that rose to the ceiling. He squeezed his tongue against their feet, and his throat gave way, the muscular tube expanding as Jerry and Brock were accepted inside. The descent was like a slugs pace as peristalsis took over, guiding them to the entrance of his stomach.

Getting out of the car, he raised his shirt as his belly distended, a softened handprint poking from his torso. "It's darker in here than I expected,” Jerry said. “did you bring the flashlights with you, Brock?"

"Flashlights? I thought you grabbed them from the nightstand?"

"Why would you think I grabbed them? I was literally right next to you."

"Keep it down you two," Guro pounded at his chest. "we're almost inside."

He entered the sliding doors to the main lobby, other travelers swarming through the corridors like a sea of fish. Guro followed the narrow path to the terminals further in the distances,, ushering the shoulder of others to clear a way for his hefty luggage that nipped at his heels. He visited the check in machine, grabbing a ticket for his things as he dropped them with the attendees.

Dropping his luggage off, he spread his arms like wings, popping the cramps on his shoulder for hauling the heavy thing. He approached the line of the terminal, and his sense of his relief dispersed. Security would be up ahead, scanning baggage along with the passengers clothes for any signs of breach in policy. It wasn’t long before one of the officers approached, scanners in hand as they ushered him forward.

He sucked in his gut, and the scanning commenced as the coned device raised up and down his body. "Scanner's seem all clear, proceed." one of the officers said.

Guro nodded, moving through the terminals to the connecting hallway. He looked out of the translucent window to metal fins gliding over parts of the platform, the head of the plane turning the corner like a shark as it docked near the loading bay.

Movement stirred inside of him, his abdomen bucking as limbs twisted over the other. "Ugh, I knew I should’ve woke up earlier.” Jerry muffled, “ my cock’s leaking like a faucet for release.”

"Fear not my dear hubby, for your noble night shall ease your stress." Brock said.

Guro cheeks flushed, pounding a fist at his chest. " You two are not fucking in my stomach, it’s hard enough trying to keep you down already."

"Fine fine, party pooper.” Jerry said, “Then let’s at least get some grub, I’m starving in here!"

"Yeah!" Brock chimed.

“What? I just told-”

"Food! Food! Food!" the couple chanted, bouncing wall to wall as if they were seeds in a popcorn kettle.

"Alright, Alright already. just stop with the bouncing."

It was a good walk as Guro traversed deeper into the airport. Searching for the docking terminal, he followed the bolded signs that hung from the ceiling as they pointed further down the hall, leading him to the corner of the building where travelers waited for the aircraft.

Good, he still had some time to get those two some food. He followed a vertical path to a few shops stationed along the walls, passing by refreshment and accessories before he got to the food court section of the building. Snackbars stationed between the narrow pathways, packets of Doritos stacking their shelves as some spilled from their platform to the Gatorade bottles below.

"Perfect, chips should ease you two until we land." he said.

"Chips? No way! they'd be waterlogged by the time it enters in here." Brock said.

"It'll be soggy regardless once it gets there," he replied. "If that won't work then what do you want?"

"Burgers!"

"What? no that's too-"

"Ooo burgers, great Idea!" Jerry chimed. "What better way to kick things off than to have a burger!"

"A burger is way too greasy right now lets-"

"burgers! Burgers!" the couple chanted, bulges dancing beneath his tank top.

For fuck sake. He held his stomach extending a sheepish way to passerbys before speed walking around a corner. A burger parlor rested ahead, guarded by a crossroad as passengers passed to and from the bridges connecting it. He ordered his food and made his way to a booth facing the stream of other flight goers, fiddling the ticket number of his order between his fingers.

"Be sure to add extra cheese!"

"Oh! and ketchup, don't forget the ketchup!

Guro pounded his stomach. "Will you two pipe down, if you keep it up someone will-"

"Man all this traffic today," a smooth yet gruff voice said from behind, passengers splitting apart as a short lean man stepped through them. "Who’s bright idea was it to put this place in such a piss poor spot? I’m getting a wedgie down here."

The small man wrestled with his pants as he traversed to the booths. As he looked to the other tables occupied by guests, his gaze met Guro’s who peeked over his arm.

“Hey you, that seat next to yours taken?” the man pointed at the booth.

"Oh, uh no. It's all yours." Guro replied, gesturing a hand to the seat next to him.

The short man let out a sigh, the gears of the seat creaking as he crashed down upon it. “Ah, thank god, I can finally sit and eat.” He sat his tray upon the table.

Guro held a hand to his face as he focused on the passing passengers, the sound of paper unraveling as the lean man unwrapped his burger. Not a moment later, a waiter arrived with his food as they placed it on the tray. He picked up a stray fry, dipping it into ketchup as he nibbled over his shoulder.

The lean man tore into his burger as ketchup splattered the wrapper. "Say, I haven't seen you around these parts.” He garbled over his food, “You knew to this airport?"

Guro froze. "You could say that, I..don't really travel a lot."

I see," the lean man swallowed his chewed food, pounding at his chest. He extended a hand to Guro. "Well let me be the first to welcome you. Name’s Gary, it’s good to see new faces around here."

“Guro," He replied, shaking his hand. “I’m sure you meet a lot of folks out there.”

“Oh sure, I've seen so many passenger’s I’ve lost count. Met a few good ones over the years..” He stirred a fry into his ketchup. “And busted a few too.”

His heart skipped a beat. “Oh..you have? It must be..pretty rough.”

“Ugh tell me about it, they come out of the woodwork and think they run the entire place. Man, they give me gray hairs.” Gary said, “But nothing grinds my gears more than those with tinies.”

Guro’s eyes widened at the statement, fiddling with his straw. “Yeah?..”

“Totally. Smuggling them on board in my presence, it just makes me so..so..” He pounded his fist against his palm. “gah, they're lucky I’m at work. But you know what I mean, right?”

“Yeah yeah, I do, totally.” Guro fanned the air, sipping at his straw. “Those..rotten smugglers, why if they were I would-”

"cold! cold!" a faint mutter escaped his stomach..

His body locked, punching into his own stomach. Gary was caught aback, the lid of his drink popping undone.

"Woah there, drink went down the wrong pipe huh?"

"Y..yeah, guess I must've drank too long." He replied, holding at his stomach.

"Give me the fry!"

"get your own, I saw it first"

Guro froze again, looking to Gary who stood there attentively.

The side of his cheek twitched. "Ahe, you know I think my ears are whack from working on flights, but I could’ve sworn I heard some little voices just now."

"No! No! Not at all, I’m sure it was just uh..the conditioning."

“Nah, it sounded like voices alright. Just like it sounds like smuggling.” Gary leaned closer. “And when there’s smuggling in my presence, I-”

He jumped out of his seat. "Would you look at the time, I really must be getting to my flight.”

Guro scampered into the sea of passengers, rushing back to the narrow hallway he came from. He caught a glimpse of Gary’s stern stare, before it disappeared around the corner. —---------------------------

that was close, he didn't know how long he'd be able to hold that conversation. He lifted his shirt and gazed at his round belly, the lumps of his abs rising and falling as the two tinies danced beneath its layer.

"Can you guys at least try to keep things low? that guy was onto us." he said.

His stomach grumbled, Jerry’s voice resonating. “Wal..we…”

“What?”

“Hun, don’t try to speak with your mouthful” Brock replied. “It's just a minor hiccup, Guro. it slipped out.”

“Well don’t do it again or we’ll be caught.”

He returned to the main path of the hallway, joining the crowd that lined the entrance to the air bridge. He showed his ticket to the tenders and made his way down the hollow straight way, the hums of the plane's turbines vibrations through the metal floor. A wave of cool conditioning washed over him as he entered the opening of the plane, stray legs in the lane brushing against his own as passengers sat their luggage into the compartments above.

He found a seat in the middle of the plane, taking a seat as he glanced into the Isle. He managed to get on board, thank goodness, that hurtle of their journey was complete. He eyed the other passengers that traveled passed, looking at the metal wig blocking the window frame as its lights blinked. Movement stirred inside his stomach prodding at the muscular wall. He pulled the collar of his shirt over his face, staring at the wobbling lumps i his abdomen.

“Get the energy out while you can you two, it’s gonna be a long trip before we reach vegas.” he said in a lone tone, keeping an eye towards the lane.

“Easier said than done when your cock’s craving release. ” Jerry replied. “Blasted thing’s still leaking.”

“For the last time, you’re not fucking in my stomach.”

Jerry slouched against a fold in the fleshy chamber. “Ah come on, how else are we gonna get through this trip.”

“Because we almost got caught with you two’s bickering.” Guro replied.

“You’re still o about that guy back there, there’s no way he’d follow you in here.” Brock chimed, “Poor bastard’s probably helping the janitor’s than thinking about us.”

"Attention passengers, please listen up for the time being.” a voice called from the cockpit, the heads of passengers splitting as they turned to the front of the plane. Holding a microphone in hand, hidden away by the shoulders of the would be the short man from the burger parlor. "We've got a long flight ahead of us, so if you’d be so kind to keep in your seats we’ll be cruising through to vegas in no time.."

Guro peeked through the curl of the woman in front of him to the front aisle. “Shit..”

“What is it?” Brock asked.

“It’s that Gary guy again, of all the planes to be on it had to be this one.”

The fuzz of Gary’s hair traversed further down the aisle, a pamphlet in hand as he wagged it through the air. "As you all know it's important to ensure your mask is working to full condition," he said, "If you are having issues please let me or our staff.."

He trailed as he came to the middle of the aisle, the corner of Guro’s gaze meeting his own. His eyes were like daggers as they seething their judgments into Guro’s brain, eyebrows furrowing as if to harness their fiery sight.

"…Our staff know at a moment's notice." Gary continued, his steps drawing closer. His curly hair peered from the top of the pamphlet, his eyes locking onto him. "If there aren't any further questions..may you enjoy your flight."

His steps trailed behind, but he could still feel his sharp gaze as he moved to the back of the plane. The tension eased as the aircraft jerked, the docking platform fading from the small window as it faced the runway. The white stripes of the runway zipped through the window frame as the aircraft made its way to its lane. He hoped it would distract him from the sudden predicament, but he couldn’t help but look back to flight attendants buckling their belts, Gary side-eying him from a seat along the wall.

He leaned his head against the chair, and let out a heavy sigh. "This is going to be a long flight.”

--

Some time passed as the plane left the airport, soaring over the mountains decorating the plains below. Guro’s attention aimed at his body as the wall brushed his shoulder, hugging him into the cool interior as the plane tilted to the west. He looked down to his still stomach, prodding at the faint dimple protruding beneath his pecs.

Those two have been quiet since they took off, he’d best check on them.

He scoped the aisle for a second glance, eyeing the slouched necks of fellow passengers who tilted to the ceiling. He lifted his shirt, tapped at his distended gut. "Hey,you two good?.." he asked, his tone overwhelmed by the turbine outside. "Is everything okay in there?"

"Is what okay in there?" A voice startled him, Gary standing in the aisle with a tray.

"Geez you really need a bell, you can't just sneak up on people like that."

"What did I startle you fraidy cat? Its merely time for the passengers to have their snacks for the evening.” He plucked one of the bags from his tray. “I wanted to give you yours personally."

Guro eyed him cautiously. “Why?”

“Think of it as an apology, I’ve been watching you all this time to see if you’d croak. And yet, you sit there without a trouble in hand. So..” he set a couple of bags upon his tray, “I wanted to ensure you get the best nuts I could offer, as tribute.”

"Ah..how kind of you."

"Yes," Gary said. “I hope they're..to your liking."

He cycled to the next passenger, sharing a glance as he handed them peanuts from the trays below. That guy on his ass for so long, he forgot what it felt like to finally breathe in piece.

his stomach rippled as it sung its gurgly song, taps resonating from his abdomen. "What’s this I hear about snacks?" Jerry asked.

"About time you started to speak," he replied, "I thought I digested you too."

"You thought being in here would get the better of us?” Brock said. “It’ll take a lot more than a few burgers and fries for us to kick the bucket."

“Huh, I suppose you have a point.”

“Yeah.” Jerry chimed in, “on a related note, how about those snacks!”

Quick and to the point, that’s the Jerry experience for ya. But his request did linger in his mind, he thought the food from the restaurant would satisfy him for a little longer, but he can already feel his belly yearn for more to fill in its chamber. He looked to the plastic packets on his tray, fondling at their sealed ends.

"Why not," he picked one of them up, "a few peanuts couldn't hurt."

He tore the flimsy corner of the bag, dumping the miniature contents into his awaiting mouth as he chewed on their salty texture. Their solid form were soon reduced to mush beneath his molars, escorted by his tongue as it slithered down his throat with a simple gulp. Arriving in his stomach, Jerry and Brock became active, swirling inside his belly like pet fish.

"Huh, a little salty but these things actually aren't that bad." Guro opened another packet, tilting the torn opening to feast on the nuts.

He chewed at their crunchy forms once more, lapping at the slaty flakes in torn opening to savor their taste. But his stomach twisted as a bulge pushed in his stomach, Jerry and Brock moving around.

"What are you doing down there?" He said in a low tone, tapping at his stomach.

" These nuts are making me.. feel tingly." Brock muttered, kicking into the side of the stomach. “Hehe..my legs feel like jello

"you feel it too, I thought I was the only one." Jerry added, the bulge in his stomach expanding. "You know.. Did I ever tell you? you're.. kinda hot. Like really..really hot."

"Really? I was gonna say the same to you."

Guro shuddered as he felt his stomach swirl, the two tinies swirling around the wall like propellers as their moans reverberated the surrounding flesh. flustered, Guro leaned into his legs, tapping into his gut.

"Hey I told you not..to fuck in-” His stomach bucked as the two drove into stomach wall, footprints marking his abs before sinking back in. “Guys..stop..fucking.”

His words fell on deaf ears, the tinies pressing horizontally into the side of his belly. It was as if he swallowed a dinner plate, his stomach manipulating its curvatures as it squashed against his folds. He gripped at the armrest of his seat, over biting his lower hip.

steps echoed from the lane, Gary returning with a glass beverage. "Oh man, you look like you’re getting put through the ringer there?"

"What did you put in those nuts?" Guro groaned, holding his stomach.

"Nothing, just regular peanuts compared to us." Gary said, "though for small folk, you could say they become more..energetic. good thing it was just you who only drank it, right?" He shared a glance at Guro.

"r..right, no..tinies here."

"Mhm.” Gary plucked the drink from his tray, setting it up on Guro's. “ If there were tinies who ate them, this stuff does the trick for calming them down. Who knows,maybe it'll work on that stomach ache of yours too."

Guro opened his mouth to speak, but shuddered as legs swiped against his belly like brushes. Gary trailed from his gaze, walking down the path as he gazed upon the sloshing liquid in the plastic cup. Not good, if this keeps up he’ll jizz in his pants before they land.

His stomach turned again, his head brushing against the seat as sweat dripped on his brow. Looking to his pants ran through his body, his shaft pulsating as it bulge climbed to the surface. When the tip of his shaft outline the pouch, a wet spot darkening into the fabric, he caved.

He raised the plastic cup against his lips. swallowing ice and all as its cubes raced down his pipe. It sizzled along his tongue like sprite, its suds raced down his throat as it collected into his stomach. He shook the cup until the last drop met his tongue, slamming it upon his tray. His stomach expanded, the cool liquid spinning inside the chamber as the two couples calmed themselves.

He took a breath, basking in the hums of the plane. But he froze as the lingering figure returned, a golden name tag appearing in his peripheral.

"So it seems your stomach ache has calmed down, and not a single ice cube in the cup." Gary eyed the empty plastic, his arms crossing across his chest. "I'm sure it doesn’t take an Einstein to know what comes next?"

Guro's face grew dull, rolling his eyes to the window. "Fuck.."

Tires squeaked as the plane arrived at the vegas airport, cruising its way to the corner of the building where an empty air bridge awaited it. Guro stared at the front door, hands gripping his shoulders as Gary held him close.

"We have an hour before our next flight," Gary told another flight attendant. "I'm taking this one personally to security."

The flight attendant nodded, informing the captains of the situation. The door's hissed open, and a knee nudged into his legs.

"Is that really necessary-"

a knee struck him again. "Silence troublemaker, you'll be given what you deserve soon enough."

They moved through the long narrow hallway to the entrance, one of the employees opening the door as he stepped outside. Eyes glued onto the display as they moved through passengers, snickers fluttering the crowd as Guro sulked beneath the collar of his shirt. His sense of security was quickly diminished as a nudge yanked the slim fabric from his chin, Gary shoving him into the next corridor. After countless steps, they turned into an empty path, Gary opening a solid door to darkness on the other side.

"After you." Gary escorted him in, tossing him to the middle of the room.

"Look, I get that this wasn't the best idea, but do you know how expensive tickets are nowadays?"

"Oh I know how much they are, but don’t think you’ll get any mercy from it." Gary slammed the door, locking it behind him.

He approached in a slow stride, his form widening in width as he reached Guro’s chest. Even half his size, his demeanor drove his heart to a fast race, his legs backpedaling as the flight attendant gained ground.

Cold steel soon kissed at his back, Gary breath flowing over his chest. "Remember what I said about those with tinies?"

"I..I don't recall."

"I said when I find in my mist, that there will be dire punishment. And when I get my hands on them I-"

Guro shielded his face. "Jail them!"

"Fuck them!"

Guro's shuddering ceased, blinking in confusion. "W..what?"

"You heard me."

"So you did all of this, just to fuck me."

Gary scoffed softly. "Well I gotta get my buzz one way or another. I could’ve called you out at the restaurant, but why spoil it there?"

"b..but-"

a foot lunged toward him, stomping the wall above Guro’s shoulder. "Ain't no buts about it, You're still a troublemaker for making me have to stretch to get the answer out of you.” Gary caressed his chin. “But since you’re kinda cute, I’ll cut ya deal."

He unbuckled his belt before taking to his fly, ringing his finger into the pouch of his boxer. With a flick of his finger, drawed the beast sleeping in his pants. Its slender length swelled against his thigh, its veins pulsing as it pointed its fleshy tip like a spear.

"You can accept your punishment and show me a good time, or I can let security deal with you and far worse."

Guro's cheeks flushed at Gary's options, its energy driving its way through his body as it was fed to his own cock. This predicament was peculiar to what he expected, and yet, it seemed to exhilarate him the more he ran it though his mind. The cock wagged closer, drawing at the air like a magic pencil as its baked musk whipped beneath his nose. His own shaft throbbed in his pants, punching into his pouch as if it were begging to be let out.

He watered his lips. “Just show you a good time?”

“Mhm,” Gary replied, bucking his shaft closer, “show me just enough, and I might let you off the hook.”

He reflected on his words, before looking to his waist. The lengthy appendage flicked as it brushed the tip of his nose, a drop of pre soaking his skin as salt whiffed through his nostrils. He clasped both hands along the leaking head, nodding softly as he felt its strength pulse between his palms..

"Splendid," Gary said, a hint of excitement decorating his tone. "Unbuckle those pants of yours."

Guro adjusted himself from the wall before taking to his belt buckle, unfastening its hold on his waist as the fabric slithered to reveal his toned glutes beneath. Their warm sheets were relieved, a pinch resonating on both cheeks as fingers spreading them apart.

"Well, well, Quite the star you have back here." Gary said.

"T..thanks, I try to keep it cared for in my spare time."

"I can tell, let's see just how taken care of it truly is for my monster."

his hole rippled as fingers prodded its center, flattening the folds between the rings before the phallus made contact. He strained as his anus widened, sliding Gary's girth inside him as it climbed the curvature of his anal walls. The flight attendant thrusted his hips, and their waist's clapped together as if there were a puzzle.

the attendant started to rock, sawing through Guro's ass like a saw as the shaft drove in and out of him. Pump after pump, his toes curled as Gary filled more of him inside, its bulge intermittently appearing beneath his lower abdomen. From mere moments he found himself bending towards the toilet, his own body taking to his shaft to channel the energy to his leaking tip.

As time passes, the two grinded in sync, their symphony of grunts and moans reverberating through the walls of the bathroom.

"Not bad, you're holding punishment well."

"That's nothing..I can take more."

"Oh?” Gary mused, clasping the tender mounds between his palms. “Then I hope you can keep your socks on for the finale."

He thrusted his shaft deeper into Guro, his waist clapping with his as a lump appeared intermittently in his torso. Push after push, a dimple began to form as the phallus imprinted along his abdomen. With a firm ease into Guro, the softened features of the tip appeared, two human shaped silhouettes decorating next to it as they grumbled beneath the tender muscle

"Hmph, so these are the tinies giving you trouble." Gary said.

"they're.. friends of mine." Guro replied.

"I see,” Gary chuckled, stirring Guro's inside like a batter barrel as Jerry and Brock wobbled around. “Seems they're having fun of their own. no wonder you were so skittish on the plane."

His skin bulged like a vacuumed compartment, wincing as the two silhouettes bobbed along his belly like mardi gra shadow puppets. The two of them basked in the silence between them, feeling the attendant's shaft thrust his torso from side to side. but soon a chime rang through the air, the flight attendant checking his phone.

"Looks like it's boarding time, I better get back to the plane" he said, grabbing one of Guro's cheeks as he unplugged his shaft from the depth of his hole, folding a bundle of tissue paper over the tip that leaked the floor. "I assume you can stand on your own?"

Guro rose from the toilet seat, his legs floundering as if they were made of jelly. "Well..more or less."

"Good, I wouldn't want there to be another mess than there already is." Gary said with a pat.

The two of them walked out from the bathroom, Guro waddling toward the door as Gary held it open. Getting into the main hall, security turned from the far corner, their walkie talkies going off as they approached the two.

"There you are, we had a report of some misconduct from the place." One of them said, "Is this who we were sent to retrieve?"

Guro opened his mouth to speak, but Gary's palm raised in front of him. "No, it was a false alarm. I thought we had a troublesome situation, but it's been resolved."

the guards grumbled at the flight attendant's response, nodding softly before they returned to the hallway. disappearing, Guro took a breath.

"I'm..not in trouble."

Gary patted at the cylinder like bulge in his pants. "Consider it a courtesy for a good time."

"I..well-"

"you're welcome." Gary interrupted, handing him a piece of paper from his pocket. "Take this, a voucher next time you fly with us. and be sure to follow the rules next time, can’t guarantee you’ll be let off easy if it's not me."

Guro blinked at the slim piece of paper, taking it from Gary as he slid it into his pocket. With that, he nodded in understanding, Gary acknowledging as he traversed into the hallway. Soon the sound of passing passengers filled the space, leaving Guro with his own thoughts.

fancy that, he thought, to think a simple fuck with a flight attendant would get him off the hook. Whether it was luck or just pure satisfaction, he was glad that hurdle was over and done with. But something else lingered in his mind, a piece he was forgetting, but what?

"Fuck, my baggage!"

Navigating through the halls to the baggage claim downstairs, he had some time to kill as he waited for his transportation to arrive. Sitting along a bench near the entrance, he reflected on the encounter in the bathroom stall, reminiscing over the long slender shaft that once dwelled inside. He fondled the contents of his bloated belly, his fingers squishing upon his abdomen as if it were a water bed. it was..refreshing in a way, at least now he was able to walk straight.

His taxi arrived as he moved to a hotel further up the road, booking a room as he made his way up the flights of stairs to the second floor. He kicked open the door and dropped his bag, heading over to the bathroom as he ventured to the tub. He turned on the shower faucet, warm water washed over him as he squatted over the drain as seed drooled from his hole like an uncapped bottle. Clench after clench its flow moved like a stream melting into a watery substance before it disappeared into the drain.

But the stream began to spurt as solid objects pushed at his hole, forcing him to heave as his ring flexed and contracted. He adjusted his stance and squeezed at his stomach, a wave of seed spewing from his hole and between his legs as it rinsed beneath the water.

A tangle of arms and legs seeped from a wad,its gunk melting away as the two tinies laid along the drain.

“That's what I call a trip.." Jerry mumbled.

"You can say that again." Brock said, looking to Guro who stood over them. “You certainly made a mess. What were you doing out here?”

He shook his head softly. “Just having some fun.”

[heliads]

Idk if requests are open rn (I can't convert time lol) but I was wondering if I could request something for Now You See Me? Maybe smth with Jack where they're both just a super silly couple, like always goofing around before shows and just having fun, but they're both kinda insecure, like 'what if the other person doesn't take this as serious as they do'. So they...idk talk it through and in general super fluffy. Sorry, i'm really bad at describing things. Feel free to ignore if I sent this in too early.

masterlist

If you ask the Horsemen what they like most about being, well, a Horseman, you would get completely different answers. Some of you love the planning process, being able to organize the perfect heist right down to the very last detail. Others love the car chases afterwards, running as fast as they please without ever getting caught. Still more of you have a fondness for the magic tricks of the shows themselves.

If you were to pick, though, your favorite part about this fantastical life of yours wouldn’t be what happens on the stage, nor immediately before and after it. The magic is lovely, obviously, and you all enjoy the sound of so many people cheering your names, but what you like most of all about this select group of extraordinary people are the members of the group themselves. The backstage murmuring, the whispered inside jokes. That, to you, is worth more than any perfected sleight of hand trick.

That’s the reason for the contented feeling in your stomach as you survey your little crew. The five of you just made it out of another successful deal. This one will have the skeptics talking for months, of that you’re certain; all of you went above and beyond to make this job impossible to deny. It’s a good feeling. It lets all of you lay down your guard for the time being and just laugh with each other while you wait for the coast to clear outside.

Merritt tips his glass appreciatively as another siren caterwauls outside your hideout. “I think that’s the tenth one I’ve heard in ten minutes. Face it, people. We’re famous. Or, I am, at least. They might be too distracted by my good looks to notice you.”

Danny rolls his eyes. “They’d only get distracted by your looks if you hypnotized them.”

“Why don’t I do it to you, then?” Merritt pretends to lunge towards him, laughing when Danny jerks backwards.

“Not funny,” Danny complains.

“Totally funny,” you argue. “Are you scared because you’re worried it already happened? What if you secretly think Merritt has been super attractive this whole time and you’re just fighting the truth?”

Merritt snorts. “I like that idea.”

By your side, Jack breaks into a wide grin. “It’s okay, Danny. You can talk to us. We’re friends. Tell us your inner truth.”

Danny scoffs. “That is so not my inner truth.”

You arch a brow. “Are you sure? It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve fallen for a Horseman.”

Danny glowers at you. “Low blow, Y/N. And that’s rich coming from you, anyway, given that you’re also dating a Horseman.”

This is true. Unlike Danny, though, you’re quite proud of it. Your relationship with Jack Wilder was quite literally months in the making. It nearly drove the other Horsemen insane with the way both of you couldn’t stop tiptoeing around your feelings, but you both confessed eventually and have been quite happy ever since. Even when your friends try to divert blame onto the two of you to get out of the hot seat.

Jack must be thinking along the same lines, because he just shakes his head and grins. “It’s okay to be jealous of our fantastic relationship, Daniel. It’s not your fault we like each other way more than anyone loves you.”

Merritt chokes on his drink, and has to press a hand to his mouth to stop from laughing any more. “I didn’t laugh. That’s not funny, you two. You should all be nicer.” The twinkle in his eyes, though, lets you know that he’s firmly on your side.

Danny just groans. “Trust me, if this is what love is like, I’m fine without it. I feel like I’m going to be sick to my stomach. Remind me again why I wanted you two together so badly?”

Merritt chuckles. “Because you said the same things when they were just pining uselessly, remember? Ah, good times. And now the two of you can actually tell each other how much you love each other, right?”

He stares directly at Jack, waiting for him to say something. It’s strange, usually Jack has no problem picking up the thread of a joking conversation, always jumping in with another rebuttal, a laughing riposte, but this time, he just stays silent. He seems lost in thought, and maybe it’s just you being paranoid but it seems awfully coincidental that he would zone out just as Merritt brings up the idea of him being in love with you.

And, well, you get it. Love’s a big idea. Especially with your lives on the road now, it’s hard to picture any of you settling down in any way. You and Jack started out just flirting, only catching feelings by accident. You can’t expect him to love you. Even if you know that you’ve loved him for quite a while now.

Truth be told, this isn’t the first time such an issue has crossed your mind. You and Jack have been dating for a couple of months now, and you’ve been questioning things since the halfway point. It’s not Jack’s fault, really, it’s just hard sometimes to understand why he would pick you when there are literally hundreds of thousands of people begging to go out with him at every show. He could have any supermodel, any celebrity, but he chose you. It just makes a person wonder why.

It’s been getting to you lately, the instability of it all. You and Jack have a lovely time joking around, kissing after shows in between bouts of laughter, but he’s never once told you that he actually loves you. There’s a very good chance that he hardly sees this as a relationship at all, more a distraction in between extensive shows, and that to you is more heartbreaking than if he’d never confessed his feelings in the first place. You love Jack, you know you do. You just don’t know that he feels the same way about you.

The conversation drifts off into uneasy silence when Jack still says nothing. When it becomes clear that he’s not going to respond to that, you quickly change the subject, asking Daniel about his thoughts on the way a certain aspect of the job had gone. It’s an easy excuse, and will earn you at least fifteen minutes of uninterrupted Atlas monologue to smooth over the awkwardness, but you still feel your spirits sinking. It wouldn’t have hurt Jack to say something, right? Even just to joke along. He wouldn’t have to have meant it.

Merritt meets your eyes sympathetically, but you look away just as quickly. You don’t want his pity, it just means that he’s aware of the imbalance just as much as you are. Danny’s oblivious enough that he probably won’t notice it, which is good. You don’t want anyone realizing the difference in your affection from Jack’s. Not when you plainly like him more than he does.

It’s not a good feeling, to say the least. It sits with you the rest of the evening, causing you to leave early, claiming exhaustion and wanting an early night’s sleep. Jack tries to coax you to stay a little longer, but you can’t answer his jokes with the same spirit you usually do, making his face fall slightly. Well, a cruel voice whispers in the back of your head, good. He should feel at least a little of the hurt you do right now.

Even that doesn’t make you feel better, though. You lie awake, listening to the soft sounds of your friends laughing together. Jack never has a problem carrying the conversation when it’s just them, then. That means the problem must be you. You joke too much or not enough, and somehow Jack saw that you weren’t quite the right match for him. Maybe somewhere out there is a person who’s perfect for him, who can always pick up what he’s putting down and knows exactly the right amount of emotion to show, but Jack is making it clear that won’t be you. 

You fall asleep eventually, but even a good night's sleep isn’t enough to reset your mood. You do your best to act like nothing is the matter, but it’s hard to go on joking with Jack when all you want to do is ask him if he could ever actually see himself loving you. 

It takes about a week before he catches on. You’re bailing out of another night of drinks with the Horsemen because you can’t bear to see how flimsy your relationship really is. 

Instead of letting you go, though, Jack stays put in your room. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

You feign indifference. “Nothing, really. I’m just tired.”

Jack doesn’t seem convinced. “You’ve been ‘just tired’ for a while now. It’s not like you.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you don’t know me as well as you thought,” you mumble, trying to distract yourself by pretending to look at the papers on your desk. 

“What does that mean?” Jack’s voice, suddenly razor-sharp, takes you by surprise. 

You lift a shoulder cautiously. “Nothing. Just leave me alone, alright? You’ll have more fun if you’re not stuck with me right now, I know that.”

“That’s not true at all,” Jack protests. “Every time the rest of us go out, I’m miserable. They can all tell you that. It’s no good if you’re not out there with me, Y/N.”

You can’t help a tinge of bitterness from entering your voice. “So you want me to go out with you because you want entertainment? Great, Jack, that definitely makes me feel better.”

He reacts as if you’ve struck him. “That’s not what I mean at all. What’s gotten into you?”

“What’s gotten into me?” You spit out. “Nothing, Jack. Nothing at all. It’s just that I realized you don’t feel half as much about me as I do about you, and surprisingly enough, that doesn’t make me feel the greatest.”

He’s silent, reeling in place. You shake your head slowly. “See, this is why I didn’t want to do all this. Just forget it, alright?”

You try to move past, but Jack’s hand snaps out, weaving around you and blocking your path. “I had no idea you felt like that,” he says softly. “I would have said something sooner, sweetheart, I promise. All this time, I’ve been thinking you didn’t like me that much, so I didn’t want to say something stupid like I love you since I thought it would scare you off. If I had known–” he breaks off in a quiet half-laugh, then continues, “–if I had known that’s what you thought, I would have told you a lot more about just how you make me feel.”

Suddenly, it seems to take a lot of effort to speak again. The weight of your surprise hangs against your throat, slowing the syllables. “You love me?”

“More than anything,” he smiles. “Enough that I didn’t want to hear you say you didn’t love me when I knew how much I loved you. I never asked what you wanted, and I assumed you didn’t want a serious relationship.”

“I want you,” you tell him. He beams.

“And I want you, sweetheart.” In Jack’s arms, it’s easy to forgive him. This has all been a simple misunderstanding, and the greater truth is far lovelier than you could have ever hoped. Maybe you will go out with him tonight after all, tonight and every night until forever. The stars will shine sweetly overhead and you will be happy. With Jack, you think you always will be.

now you see me tag list: @mayfieldss

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[bumblesimagines]

Silene Oliveira/Tokyo

been a long time since i last saw you.

this reminds me of the night we met.

don't flirt with me. 

been a long time since i last saw you.

this reminds me of the night we met.

don't flirt with me. 

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

Toledo was a beautiful city, not that you'd been given much of a chance to get acquainted with it before being hauled up to a large remote house per The Professor's instructions. But the scenery was beautiful, at least. The view atop the hill allowed for the perfect view of the setting sun, made all the better with beer and the distant sound of music playing from the patio. A perfect evening and a perfect view... ruined by a voice that made your heart clench with bitterness. 

"Been a long time since I last saw you." Her light, airy, far too casual voice reached your ears. Your muscles automatically tensed, fingers tightening around your bottle, and the serenity of the view promptly faded. You bit your tongue and raised the bottle to your lips, finishing the contents and hoping the effects would soothe your mind. "(Y/N)- Or, well... It's Athens now, right? I guess I should get used to that name before the heist."

You stared straight forward, unable to bear the thought of looking at her without wanting to walk out of the whole operation. A face you once loved seeing, muddled with her actions and memories you'd rather forget. She was a reminder of the person who'd truly broken your heart and trust: René. The man who picked you up from juvie and promised to never abandon you like your parents had. The man who taught you everything you needed to know about heists, about guns, and thievery. The man you looked up to dearly and spilled everything to. The man who slept with your girlfriend nearly fifteen years ago. The man who'd been gunned down in the street only a couple weeks prior. Your brother, your confidant, your partner in crime, and the most disgusting man you'd ever known. 

You still remembered that morning when you returned from a night out with friends, hungover as hell but alert enough to notice the scattered beer bottles on the table, the lack of chatter in the small rented apartment, and best of all, the sight of seventeen-year-old Silene in the arms of thirty-one-year old René. You would've found the surprise and horrified looks on their faces humorous if it hadn't been for the betrayal you felt. Half of the morning was spent arguing with René while Silene cried uncontrollably until you grabbed a few things and got into your car, speeding off down the street and never seeing either of them ever again. 

You hardly mourned René when you saw his corpse and face on the news the day of his death. To you, he'd been dead since that fateful day. And you would've moved on, would've finally found some real peace at last, if The Professor hadn't sat beside you at the park a few days later while you watched your kid run around with his friends and offered you a job; A heist that'd leave you with more than enough euros to never work or be apart from your son ever again. Enough money to send him off to college, to find a nice place to settle down, and to live out the rest of your years doing whatever you wanted without having to worry about being arrested during 'work'. 

"This reminds me of the night we met." Silene - No, the code names were necessary, she'd been right in that regard - Tokyo said, her finger dragging down your bicep. You rolled your shoulder to shrug her off, huffing out a soft scoff. "You remember that night? They wouldn't let me into the bar 'cause I was a kid but then you and René vouched-"

"We helped you, got you a fake id, let you stay with us when you had an argument with your mom, and the week after you said you loved me, you fucked my brother and now left him for dead. Don't pretend things between us are fine, Tokyo. Don't flirt with me. Don't talk to me like we're old friends. We're strangers. Nothing more, nothing less. If you're that desperate for dick then maybe go hop on Rio or Denver's." You sneered at her, brushing past her with another scoff and making your way back to the party, back to the rest of your colleagues and away from the woman who'd ruined your life.

[unichrome]

The biggest heist that almost was

Let me tell you about the most insane bank heist that is going to sound like I'm just leaking the script for the next American hacking movie. The goal? Steal one billion USD. And it all began with an email and a printer, which as we all know is where problems usually start. Another weapon in this heist was... Weekends and time zones.

As usual, no prior computer science education needed.

What happened?

On the morning of February 5th 2016, a printer had stopped working in the central bank of Bangladesh (Bangladesh Bank). But it wasn't just any printer, it was the printer responsible for printing all the records of the multimillion transfers going in and out of the bank. When the poor employees finally won the printer battle and had it resume normal operation, they saw a very concerning account transfer in the records that was coming out. The bank had an USD account in the USA, at Federal Reserve Bank, with approximately 1 billlion Dollars in it, and the Federal Reserve Bank had received instructions to drain almost the entire amount. In the records that came out in the printer, the American bank had attempted to urgently message the Bangladesh bank regarding this transfer, but couldn't get through to them. This was because the hack had actually started the day before, Thursday 4th, at around 20:00 Bangladesh time, when the bank was closed. However, USA had just started their day, giving the American bank plenty of time to follow through with the instructions from the Bangladesh bank to drain their entire account while they were closed. And that wasn't the end of it, as weekends are from Friday to Saturday in Bangladesh, meaning that the Bangladesh bank headquarters in Dhaka wouldn't discover this withdrawal until Sunday morning. That's when they immediately tried to reach the American bank, which of course didn't work as over there it was Saturday evening, and the American weekend is from Saturday to Sunday, meaning that they wouldn't be reachable until Monday.

You see what I mean by the hackers using time zones and weekends, finding the perfect time for the American bank to execute their orders while Bangladesh discovers the withdrawal several days too late, and again several days too late for Americans to be reachable. But it didn't stop there with their timehacking.

The money had to go somewhere from the American bank, and it would be stupid to send it directly to the hackers own account without laundering the money first. So they had set up four different bank accounts in the Philippines, using fake names and credentials. Why the Philippines? Because the Lunar new year was on Monday the 8th, which is a holiday and holiday means no bank activities in either Bangladesh or the Philippines, buying the hackers even more time. As a final act, they messed with the printer responsible for printing transaction records, adding another few hours to their schedule. Moon and stars really aligned perfectly for this plan.

But how did they do it?

It all began one year prior, in January 2015, with an email sent to several employees at the Bangladesh Bank. The email seemingly contained a job application from a person who didn't actually exist, but who was very polite in his request for a position at the bank, with a link to his CV and cover letter. Naturally this link led to a document with a little surprise gift - malware. Since the heist happened, at least one of the recipients must have clicked the link, and successfully deployed a RAT - Remote Access Trojan, malware that lets you control a computer from the comfort of your own home, as well as a toolkit with various malware to move from computer to computer, avoiding discovery, and covering their tracks.

From there, the hackers slowly made their way through the bank offices network, one step at a time to avoid setting off alarms, looking for any computer that had control of the banks SWIFT setup. SWIFT lets banks transfer large amounts of money between themselves and other banks connected to SWIFT. And as soon as they found one of those computers, they stopped. They didn't need to hack SWIFT in the traditional sense of the word - since they operated in a bank computer, the SWIFT-software assumed they naturally had to be bank employees. However, one of the parts of the malware used in the heist was for manipulating the SWIFT system, as the hackers weren't physically there to press anything. Additionally, since they were laying dormant for the time to strike, they needed to keep an eye out for SWIFT updates that could detect any tampering with the system, and adapt accordingly.

Then they waited many months for the stars to align on February 4th, 2016.

There were 35 transfers made by the hackers from the American bank account, totaling almost 1 billion USD, but there were two of these tiny little seemingly insignificant details that prevented this from becoming the worlds largest bank heist in history. The hackers biggest enemy became this concept known as “words”.

The Philippine bank accounts were all located in the same RCBC Bank office on Jupiter Street in Manila. And this would be the hackers downfall, as USA had sanctions put on an Iranian cargo ship called Jupiter. Since the transactions went to a recipient that contained the word “Jupiter”, it created a security alert in the Federal Reserve Bank that the employees needed to investigate. When they saw what was going on, they managed to stop all but five of the initial 35 transactions, thus “only” roughly 100 million USD made it to the Philippines. The Bangladesh bank requested to reverse the transactions, but since the money was in the Philippines, they would need bureaucracy in form of a court order to reclaim the money, and we all know that's not a 5 minute project. It was when Bangladesh filed the court order in late February that the case became public (since court orders are public documents) and the news broke to the country.

Once in the RCBC bank accounts, the money arrived on Friday the 5th and was immediately moved again. First the 100 million was converted to local currency, and some of it was withdrawn in cash, while the rest was sent off to other hacker-controlled locations. And this is where the second tiny little detail cut off even more of the hackers precious payday. 20 million USD had been sent to Shalika Foundation, a charity organisation in Sri Lanka. But,  once again the hackers worst enemy - words - decided to strike again. A typo was made in their transaction, sending the money to “Shalika Fundation”, and a bank employee who must have had their morning coffee spotted this typo and rejected the transfer and kept the funds frozen. This left the hackers with 80 million USD.

✨Now comes the money laundering!✨

There was a second reason for choosing the Philippines as deposit zone; gambling is legal and the casinos had no money laundering regulations imposed. The accomplices of the heist booked private rooms in two casinos located in Manila - Solaire and Midas - and proceeded to purchase tokens to gamble for with the stolen money. Since they played with a room consisting of their fellow accomplices, winning was not really much of a challenge. Then the tokens could be exchanged back to money that would now be clean. To avoid suspicion, they didn't gamble all of the money at once, but over the course of several weeks gambled away the dirty money to clean money.

Who was behind it?

It's normally difficult to pinpoint where the more sophisticated hacking groups come from. Oftentimes, they will leave false clues behind that points to another group so they will face more trouble instead of the group that did it. They may even place clues from several different groups, just to mess with the analysts. It's also quite common to simply “steal” a way of working from another group, or use a leaked/stolen tool from another group (criminals aren't safe from other criminals, especially not in this business) - there are new malware coming out all the time with code that is just a slight modification of a well-known malware actor that had their source code leaked or simply had hired the same programmer. Or they may leave no clues as to who was behind it. Attribution to the guilty part is usually the single most difficult mission in IT-security - often it's just pure guesswork with little to no solid evidence to back it up, if you're lucky there's circumstantial evidence.

This case was no different. The first clue came from the IP the bad guys used to connect to the Bangladesh bank from. It was located in Pyongyang, North Korea. But, as I mentioned, this is not a conclusive verdict, as the IP may simply be planted false evidence to throw the analysts off their track. After the heist, the hackers used a data-wiper to scrub as much of their malware off the bank systems, but they didn't succeed in deleting all of it, some of the tools were still present, including the wiper.

Due to the scale of this operation, it caught the attention of every single IT-security person and IT-security company worldwide, who all of course wanted to know who and how they did it. With the remaining malware, a joint effort was made, comparing malware code to other malware code for similarities. Some was found in Poland, after an analyst noted the similarities from another suspected North Korean hack. Some was found in another infamous North Korean hack targeting Sony Pictures. More and more signs pointed towards the same actor. Some were false leads, the hackers seemed to be wanting to implicate the Russians did it, but failed quite miserably at that, just sprinkling random Russian words into the malware and making it way too obvious it was a ruse.

You may not believe this, but the North Korean government has one of the most notorious hacking groups in the world, known as the Lazarus Group. Some of its more well-known adventures include an extremely data-destructive hack of Sony Pictures (as punishment for releasing “The Interview”), creation of the ransomware WannaCry which was used against many targets worldwide (including hospitals), and various attempts at gathering information from governments and government-affiliated corporations all over the world. And, of course, this heist.

Eventually, after months of collaboration all over the world, the final verdict fell on North Korea, and specifically one of their programmers. His name is Park Jin Hyok, and worked for Chosun Expo - a front company for the North Korean government, located in Dalian (China) who used the funds of the fake corporation gained from legitimate programming jobs from customers worldwide to create the malware and plan the heist with all of its expenses. Of course he wasn't the sole person involved in this project, but it's the only person we know was in it.

This particular heist had been meticulously planned for several years, and Park Jin Hyok had moved to Dalian, set up fake IDs and built a network of contacts there to avoid suspicion. However, he didn't manage to delete all of his online footprints, and became the number one suspect when his internet activities suddenly came from Pyongyang, North Korea.

Additionally, several Chinese business men - many associated with the casino industry in China's Macau territory - were also charged and arrested for assisting with setting up the gambling rooms and coordinating the money laundering process. One unknown Chinese business man managed to get away with 31 million USD of the 80 million that remained after the heist, and as you would expect, he was never to be seen again.

With the middlemen from China paid off, not much remained of the original 1 billion to North Korea. But the heist has fascinated the whole IT-security world nonetheless.

I remember when the news of this case dropped to the IT-security world, who all wanted to take part in the hunt. It was a very fun time, we were all sitting at the edge of our seats waiting for the next update. I hope it was at least somewhat exciting for you too to read about, and thank you for reading this long post! If you liked it, please consider reblogging as it motivates me to write more. You may also like malware stuff I've written about before, such as Stuxnet or just plain evil malware that is a threat to our daily lives.

As always my inbox is open if you have any questions.

[gxbbyhoneybadger]

Richer than Gold

Pairing: !HH!Arthur Morgan x !F!Reader

Summary: Dutch has done it again, finding the jackpot for more money. He tells his gang about a rich man who spoils and loves his only child, hatching the perfect plan to kidnap the child for ransom. He sent his best men out to catch the victim, but what they got in return was something Arthur did not expect to meet, or better yet, fall for. But no one knew yet, just how dark the truth was behind the perfect dollhouse.

Warnings: adult language, guns, angst, tension, over-controlling parents, deception, abuse if you squint, forced arranged marriage, mutual pining, flirting.

This was just a drabble I thought of after I watched one of my favorite Pixar movies (Brave), I also added a twist to it, this was a winner at the polls!

The picture was edited by me.

Part 2, Part 3

Minors DNI 🔞 18 below the cut

--

Dutch had called everyone over, Tilly, Susan, Bill, Sean, Micah, Javier, Charles, John, Sadie, Mary-Beth, Molly, Lenny, Karen, Abigail, and the rest. Arthur approached after getting off his horse and listened to what Dutch was saying. "I've got a plan, this'll be our biggest and greatest heist there'll ever be!" Dutch said with a sly grin, "Just over in Saint Denis, a man named Richardson Jones, has just paid a visit to one of his many homes. And what's better than that! He has decided to bring along his greatest possession."

"Money?" Karen suggested. "Nope, his own youth." Dutch said. "A kid?" Bill chuckled. "Now, I know it sounds rather odd, but trust me when I tell you this. His child is his only weak spot, he'd do anything for his young'un to be happy! Spoiled to no end! We get our hands on his child and take it, he'll give us whatever we want! And trust me, Richardson is Richer than Gold itself." Dutch said.

"You want us to kidnap a child for ransom?" John questioned. "You won't even have to force the kid to follow, just use some damn candy." Micah snickered. John rolled his eyes as Jack wandered up to his mom's legs. "Arthur, John, Bill, Javier, Charles, Hosea, and I will leave to find Richardson's heir and bring it here for a day or two, afterwards, we get the money and book it to Tahiti!" Dutch said.

"But a child, Dutch?" Arthur finally said. "Yes, Arthur, a kid. It ain't going to be so terrible, we're not gonna hurt 'em." Hosea rubbed the back of his head as he listened, "It'll be a quick babysitting gig before we return the child, right, Dutch?" Charles questioned. "Yes, my boy." Dutch confirmed.

"He should be arriving pretty soon, we needa go and find out what our target'll look like. C'mon!" Micah yelled as he ran to his horse.

~~~

John, Arthur, Charles, and Javier, were set on catching the child as Dutch, Hosea, and Bill were gonna distract Richardson and his friends. "So he's the one richer than gold?" Javier asked as he looked through the binoculars at a handsome wealthy dressed man with a trimmed beard and silver eyes. The four men were hiding near the building which was close to the docks where the ship had been stationary for a while.

"Guess so." Charles said before looking himself. "You got candy, right?" John whispered to Arthur. "I got the damn candy, now I owe Jack." Arthur muttered. "Look! Look! Someone's coming out!" Javier warned the men. Richardson was speaking to a well dressed Dutch and Hosea.

"Gentleman, please meet my beautiful daughter, Y/n Jones L/n, she has her mother's last name." Richardson introduced as he raised his arm to point to a beautiful lady walking down the plank set on the dock. She had to be in her youthful years, beautiful jewelry, gorgeous dress, her hair done up in a stunning braid.

"Oh shit." Bill muttered, "I don't think he has a child, that has to be his wife."

"Hello, Gentlemen. It's an honor to meet my father's dearest companions." She smiled while bowing her head out of respect. Arthur held his face with on hand as he tried to contemplate a different way to get the girl. "Dammit, what are we gonna do now?" Javier asked. "Y'all keep an eye on her, I'll run to Dutch and Hosea, see what they think and I'll come back to you. Follow her." Bill said before running off.

John and Javier made their way towards an alley in the town while Arthur made his way closer to the docks to listen in on any conversation. "Oh. . . My." Hosea muttered when he and Dutch saw the young girl. "Mr. Matthews." Y/n smiled as she shook his hand, "Pleasure to meet you."

Arthur shook his head as he started to watch the girl, making sure she didn't take off. "Y/N!" A woman screamed as she ran towards her with excitement, holding her dress so she didn't fall and into Y/n's open embrace. "It's been so long!" The woman with red hair said.

"It has indeed, Kimberly! My goodness, look at you!" Y/n gasped as Kimberly spun around to show off her new purple dress. "It's beautiful, ain't it? Just got it yesterday from my daddy!", "Kimberly, my girl, you've grown up!" Richardson greeted as he hugged her. "I have, indeed, Mr!"

The two girls walked towards a small shop and sat down by a table, Arthur had quietly and discreetly made his way towards the corner and hid behind it to listen to the girls. "So! How old are ya, now?" Kimberly asked Y/n. "Can't you guess?", "Twenty-one!", "Nuh uh!", "Twenty-two?", "No.", "I don't know!"

Y/n let out a sigh and shook her head, "I'm twenty-four, Kim. It's only been five years since we last saw each other!" Y/n giggled, "It's strange to be here again, I forgot if it was nice here in Saint Denis?"

"Oh, absolutely! Except for the random robberies and such." Kimberly sighed. ". . . Robberies?" Y/n muttered with am inquisitive tone. Arthur rolled his eyes, already knowing what was going to come. The spoiled daddy's girl was about to complain and whine about the dirty old outlaws who take what they want.

"Where they really outlaws?!" Y/n gasped. Kimberly scoffed and crossed her arms, "I forgot you're a total freak when outlaws come up in a conversation. You don't even act like a lady!" Y/n laughed and pulled off her white gloves, "You know I hate wearing these dumb dresses, wearing this annoyin' heels, having my hair done in this tight and uncomfortable way! I despise it, Kimberly!" She whined.

That's a new one. Thought Arthur as he listened, Kimberly giggled and held Y/n's hands. "Thinking about sneakin' out tonight with me?" Kimberly asked. Y/n gasped and shook her head, "My daddy'll kill me!" Kimberly snickered and slapped Y/n's hand. "Ow-!", "Like you cared if he did. All you gotta do is cry and say that it was a mistake, then he'll just let you go as always. C'mon, I know you wanna. Maybe finally you'll find a man."

Y/n groaned and stood, "C'mon, my daddy already told me where our manor is. Let's go and have some fun before I roll my eyes outta my own skull." Arthur watched where they went and followed along. Soon, he and the two other men found Y/n at the large manor. This time she was wearing an entirely different attire.

She wore jeans with a button up red shirt, a cowgirl hat with some boots and a belt, her hair was down and hung beautifully down her back, and she was riding a large Shire Horse. All black with white cuffs around it's hooves and shins, it's mane was a beautiful raven color that shined off the sun. Y/n looked so small compared to the beast she was on top of. "Oh my goodness! Y/n's he's a big monster!" Kimberly gasped, still wearing her blue dress.

"He ain't no monster. He's big but really he's a big soft boy, ain't you Buckley!" Y/n cooed as she brushed Buckley's mane, his tail swished as he huffed out a thank you. "He likes it when you compliment him! Ugh! I've been waiting to get somewhere big and open for him to run in!" Y/n laughed.

"That a horse or a giant?" Javier asked with wide eyes. "My momma got 'em for me when I was just nine years old! Big boy here was still just a colt!" Y/n smiled as she clicked her tongue, Buckley's ears twitched before he started to walk forward slowly, each step he took, Y/n slightly bounced. "He's beautiful, ain't he?" She asked her friend. "A-Absolutely!", "Mother knows best! I've always wanted a horse and she got me the biggest one, daddy always said I'd never be able to handle one, but look at me now. She'd be proud. . ." Her smile faded as she held onto Buckley's reins.

"What's wrong, Y/n?" Kimberly asked. Y/n covered her eyes with one hand as she started to tear up. "Y/n!", "No, no. . . It's just my mother. . . I miss her. . . Ever since my uncle and my mother's death, daddy has been so different. . . He seems more cold to me, not in front of guests like you of course, but. . . With me, it's like he doesn't care. He sends me to all these classes, fencing, Spanish, French, Dutch, Italian and more but. . . He's never there for me, y'know. He doesn't like it when I take Buckley out, or even wear clothes like this. . . My mother always supported me, and so did Daddy, until she. . ." Y/n let out a stuttering sigh as she relaxed.

"Buckley and my bow are the only things my mother left me before she was taken away. . ." She whispered.

". . . Wait here." Kimberly said before running into the manor and coming out ten minutes later, dressed in a skirt and a shirt before jumping onto her own horse, a brown Thoroughbred with a black mane. "Kimberly!" Y/n said with a small smile. "I wanna see those talents put to work, here!" She said before tossing Y/n her signature bow and a quiver of arrows. She attached the quiver to her saddle and held onto her bow, "You really wanna see?" Y/n giggled while cleaning her tears.

"Course I do, I may be a Lady. But I always wanna see a good time." Kimberly smiled.

The girls laughed before their horses took off running down the large land of grass and towards the trees. "Keep an eye on them both." Javier warned the two before sneaking off to spy on any incoming guests. Arthur and John both found their horses and began to trail after the girls.

That was when the men saw the hidden talent that Y/n was hiding. Buckley ran and jumped over a fallen tree—Y/n had her bowstring pulled back before she released an arrow straight into an apple hanging from a tree. Buckley landed and kept running as Y/n reloaded another shot, she whistled and a flock of birds flew from the trees before she shot two with one arrow.

Buckley was quicker than the men's horses as he continued to pick up his speed. Kimberly was smiling at Y/n's joy as she leapt through the air with Buckley. Her hair flowed as she rode on through the woods, "Throw something!" Y/n shouted to Kimberly. Kim grabbed her old hat and threw it in the air, no longer than two seconds had passed before it was nailed straight into a tree by a sudden arrow.

"You're amazing at this Y/n!" Kimberly laughed. "Thank my momma!" Y/n smiled.

The men remained hidden til the girls rode him. They stayed hiding when a carriage came, carrying Richardson, another man and a woman, Dutch, Hosea, and even Bill who looked more cleaned up. "Gentlemen, let me bring you into our lovely home for a drink!" Y/n and Kimberly saw their parents exit the carriages.

"Oh no." Kimberly muttered before looking at Y/n, "Your dad doesn't like you wearing those clothes, don't he?" Kimberly whispered. ". . . No, no, he doesn't." Y/n hopped off Buckley and tapped his rear, "Go to the barn, boy. Put this back where you found it please, Kim?", "Okay. . ." She whispered.

She approached her father and looked at the men who finally saw her without the beautiful jewelry or the dazzling feminity she once carried in the morning. When Richard laid his eyes on his daughter, he practically gasped. "What do you think you're wearing?" He questioned her. "Daddy, don't get mad. It's just clothing-", "Excuse us, gentlemen, Antonio, please escort these men to the manor. Apparently, I must have a talk with my daughter about mannerisms and proper attire for a young lady." Richardson held her back before leading her to the side of the manor.

Arthur watched and listened nearby as Richard sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What did I say to you the moment we got on that ship?" Richardson asked her. "Daddy, I-", "Don't you "daddy" me, young lady! You are not to be wearing such demeaning outfits such as this! You look like a street rat or worse, one of them outlaws! I send you to the best of schools, just like you need, I get you your own personal trainer in fencing, a degree, money, everything a woman would want!" He said.

"B-But daddy, I don't want-", "Enough!"

"I am not going to kid around with this. Get those clothes off and put on a proper dress. You look ridiculous. I shouldn't have let you keep that damn horse, he's the reason why you're acting up like this." He snarled to her, she grew tears as she looked down at the ground in shame. Arthur felt sorry for the girl, her fists were clenched as she steadied her breathing.

"I ain't a little girl no more, daddy." She whispered. "What?" Richard scoffed. "You can't control me and tell me what I want or need anymore." Richardson laughed and brushed his hair back. "You ain't gonna leave any time soon. I'm selling Buckley-"

"Daddy!"

"I don't want that damn horse around anymore. Your witch of a mother bought that thing in spite of me." He growled. "Buckley didn't do nothing to deserve this! Mother got him for me as a gift-!" Arthur's eyes grew big when Richard slapped her. His hand slowly snaking down towards his holster as he glared at the rich man

"I am your damn father. If I say I'm going to sell a damn horse, I'm selling it. I'll buy you a pony instead, now, you are going to walk up those steps, change out of your clothes and into a proper outfit. Mr. Jameson is coming over later with his son, Damon, who'll be your fiancee."

Y/n looked straight at her father with wide eyes while she held the side of her face from the pain. "Daddy-", "He has asked for your hand in marriage, and I had agreed. It's about time I find you a husband, we'll receive more money and land afterwards. Don't worry, Damon will treat you well."

Y/n shook her head as she started to back away from her father. "Get up those steps, right now. I'm right behind you." He growled, ". . . You know what." He grabbed her arm and started to pull her into the manor, she didn't fight back but obeyed his directions.

He made her go up the steps and had the maids help her get dressed. She wore a dark teal cotton dress, with white tights then a tight corset underneath it, her hair was braided back into a French braid. She was then sent downstairs, and stood by her father who was laughing with Dutch and Hosea.

"Yes, yes, exactly!" Hosea chuckled, "Your daughter looks lovely, you must adore her." Richardson laughed and covered his mouth. "She's too much to handle, that's why I'm going to marry her off." Hosea was taken by surprise as he looked to Dutch who arched his brow. Y/n simply looked away before breaking out into a run, getting away from the room.

"Y/n!" Richardson shouted.

"Y/n?" Kimberly said when she ran past her. Y/n didn't stop when she ran through the door and towards the barn, unlocking the stall, quickly slipping on the reins, snatching her quiver and bow, before jumping onto Buckley's wide body. She kicked her feet and he took off running. Richardson made it outside only for Buckley to brush past him with such speed—the wind knocked him backwards onto his back. "Y/n!!" He shouted.

Y/n didn't listen, she kept running. Tears falling from her face as she started to cry, holding onto Buckley's mane as he charged forward. Unwilling to stop or rest, even being a horse, he understood her emotions better than any person could. He was indeed a special gift from her mother. He ran and continued to go wherever he intended to go, and he knew just the place.

But what they didn't know was that Arthur was chasing them close behind.

~~~

When Dutch and Hosea ran out after Richard, Y/n had blown by them. Arthur came running with John and Dutch spoke: "Don't worry, Mr. Jones, I'll send my best men to go and fetch your daughter. Callaghan, go and get his daughter! Right now!"

Arthur tipped his head and called his horse before jumping on and chasing after the girl. One hand, after to catch her, and on the other, to comfort the poor thing. He listened to the heavy running from Buckley, he saw her soon enough as the horse zoomed through the trees and branches. For a giant beast, he sure was agile.

~~~

Buckley whined when he approached stone pillars that were placed around in a large circle, grass was everywhere as the forest provided a large open space. Y/n opened her eyes and wiped her tears to see clearly. When she did, she saw the tall stones. "Buckley. . . You. . . You remember this place?" She muttered, slowly she got off her horse, sliding off her shoes and letting her feet touch the bare grass—entering the large circle. Looking at the stones.

She sniffled and stood in the grass, beside one of the pillars, a heavy puff of air was blown into her hair as Buckley slowly and gently knelt down on his knees before slumping against the pillar and lying down. Y/n knew that position he always made, she knelt and sat down. Leaning her back against his hefty shoulders before he rested his large head in her lap. Letting her brush his mane.

Her tears fell as she kissed his head, "He doesn't want me to have you. . ." She whispered with closed eyes, "I want to love him, Buckley, I really do. . . But he just makes things so much more difficult. . . First, he takes away my dreams to become an archer. Then my goal to become a seamstress, now the only two things my mother left me."

Buckley huffed and nudged his face closer into her chest, she hugged his neck and rested her head on his. Before hearing a crunch from afar, she stood and pulled out her bow. Aiming the arrow straight as Arthur who raised his hands.

"Hey now, easy there." He said while slowly walking towards her. Buckley stood and protectively walked up besides Y/n as he watched the strange man approaching. "I'm just here to bring you back home." He said. Y/n shook her head as she pulled the bowstring even tighter, "I'm not going back. . . Not without my horse." She muttered.

"I understand. What if we went somewhere, jus' for a day or two. You and me?" Arthur asked. "Why would I trust a stranger like yourself? You're just gonna be paid off by my father to drag me back!" She accused him, he kept his hands up and reached up for his hat before it was shot clean off his head and pinned into one of the stone pillars.

Arthur looked at her with shock as she instantly grabbed another arrow, "Don't move." She warned him. He simply nodded his head. "Want me to tell you somethin'?" He questioned, "I heard you chattin' with your friend, Kimberly her name? Said you was interested in outlaws robbin' Saint Denis. Lemme show you somethin'." Quicker than a blink of an eye, Arthur shot Y/n's quiver off her hip and placed his gun back in his holster.

She gasped and almost tripped as she jumped to the side. Still holding her bow as arrows spilled on the grass, she looked back at him and growled. "You owe me for that!" She hissed. "You come with me, and I'll pay you back. Buy a whole new case for yer." He offered.

"How do I know that you won't drag me back?" She questioned. "Lady, I'm not the type to force a woman to do what she doesn't want to do, but I am one to listen. And you can trust me when I tell you, I ain't takin' you back to your daddy." Arthur said.

Y/n was hesitant, but she glanced at Buckley who let out a soft huff from his large nostrils. She eased the tension on her bowstring and lowered her weapon, removing the arrow from the string as she let it drop onto the fallen pile of arrows. ". . . You swear?" She asked. "I swear, ma'am."

Y/n rolled her shoulder before strapping her bow into her chest then grabbing the quiver which now had a broken strap. ". . . Where to?" She muttered. "I know a place. Just, take your time getting on that horse." Arthur backed away and let her have alone time with Buckley.

Out of sight for a moment, he walked towards the tree and spotted Javier and John walking towards him. He stopped them before telling them his plan, saying to tell Dutch where he was going to be. "Yer goin' to Horseshoe Overlook?" John muttered. "Hosea said it was a good place to lie low, I'll be there with the girl. Holding her there for 'bout a day or two before I come back-", "About that, Arthur. . ." Javier cut in, "Dutch said we might need to keep her for a week instead."

"What?" Arthur mumbled. "Dutch said that he and Hosea could possibly raise the price to whoever finds her, from money to solid gold bars!" Javier whispered. "Where'd you go, Mr?" Y/n asked. John and Javier both ran off quickly as Arthur turned around, "Just about to grab my horse." He said. Y/n arched her brow and looked at his horse.

". . . She's beautiful." She muttered, Buckley following right behind her. "Thank you." Arthur said as he walked to his ride, he grabbed his hat first before setting it on his head. "Ma'am." He added before jumping into the saddle. Y/n climbed onto Buckley bareback and looked at Arthur. "I never got your name." She said.

"Arthur Callaghan." He replied, "Now, Y/n, follow me."

~~~

"Little brat just ups and decides to run off!" Richardson cursed, Dutch approached him and held his shoulder. "Callaghan is an amazing hunter, although he ain't exactly cheap for his type of service. He expects payment from me, which I can only get from someone else paying me." Dutch sighed.

Richardson groaned as he looked back at Hosea, "How much are you asking for?" Dutch just smirked.

~~~

Y/n rode close beside Arthur, he gave her a small cloak for her to wear and cover her head just in case it started to rain. "May I ask why you ran off so suddenly?" Arthur questioned. ". . . My father was plannin' on marrying me off to some random man I've never met. Selling my horse, and who knows what else." She said, "I wanted an out. . . So I left. I didn't expect this to happen."

Arthur shook his head and looked at Buckley, "What's his name?", "Buckley. . . Sometimes I call him Buck for short." Y/n answered. Buckley bowed his head and kept walking, "I taught him that trick." Y/n smirked.

Arthur chuckled at the small gesture. "C'mon, we needa speed up and get there before dark."

~Y/n pov~

The breeze was gentle, and the crickets chirping from the distance was calming to hear. I set Buckley by a tree and let him eat the grass, I looked over my shoulder and saw Arthur Callaghan fixing up a tent. I don't know where he got it from, but it's something. I've never slept in a tent before, or a cot.

I'm used to a large king sized bed, multiple blankets. Now it was just a small cot, a blanket, and probably campfire, one side of me was excited that I was camping, but another was terrified that I left my home with a stranger and I'm also staying with him. "So what's your plan?" I said. "What plan?" Arthur replied.

"When my father sends his men after me? He's going to send the entire town to find me.", "Trust me, ma'am, I don't plan on bein' caught." His southern drawl sounded rough but also sexy at the same time. I turned away from Buckley and slowly stepped closer as he tied something up, "You've done this before, I see?"

"Plenty of times, ma'am. Sometimes I travel with a group." He said. "Is it always this quiet?" I asked. "Rarely if I'm with a group." I sat on a log and sighed when my dress snagged on a twig, "Dammit." I scowled as I tugged it off. "You alright, there, Ma'am?"

"I'm okay, it's just, excuse my language but, it's my damn dress. It gets stuck on everything!" I sighed. I was looking at the sky when I heard Arthur approaching me, I turned my head and finally saw just how handsome he looked up close. "Do ya wanna buy somethin' else to wear?" He asked me. "I. . . Um, if you don't mind. I don't really care." I stuttered before looking away.

Were men's eyes always that blue? They look like pools of the ocean! "I can stop by a shop." He knelt down and started to stack a few sticks together for a fire later tonight, "I just needa know yer size and I'll be back, y'know, so people won't catch you sneakin' around." I just nodded my head while clenching my dress, I felt something tingling in my stomach but I didn't know what it was.

"Y-Yes, that'll be wonderful, Mr. Callaghan." I muttered, "I'd very much appreciate it." He set a small fire and wrote down my size for shirts and pants. "Thank you, really, Mr. Callaghan."

"No problem, ma'am. All you need to do is stay here. I'll be back." He said, he left soon after and I looked back at Buckley. "You like it here buddy?" I asked him. He flapped his ears and continued to graze the grass as he slowly found his way towards me.

The sun was close to setting, I could see the darkness coming as the crickets started to grow louder. It was beautiful outside, I stood and walked towards the cot and saw the lamps inside the tent. He has done this many times.

It was odd being outside after dark like this. I was used to a curfew; I reached up and undid my hair and let it down, undoing the braids completely as I sighed with relief. The tension was undone. I believe thirty minutes or so had passed before Arthur came back, I looked and saw that he carried a few boxes and set them on a table he left behind. "I don't have much of a fashion sense but. . ." I approached the boxes and lifted the tops off each one, seeing a different outfit in each of them.

Red flannel with jeans, another set with a blue shirt and a beautiful belt, another with a black shirt and two different hats, each one had a spare white shirt to wear underneath, different set of undergarments. "I didn't know which one you'd like, so I bought the best three they had-", "Thank you so much, Mr. Callaghan!" I smiled while hugging him. Never has a man or even a boy bought me clothing that I always wanted to wear and feel comfortable in. "You don't needa thank me, ma'am. Oh, and here. . . Thought you might needa few pairs." He grabbed one more box and placed it in my hands.

When I opened it, I felt my eyes shimmer with joy as I overlooked a beautiful pair of boots. ". . . Arthur. . ." I mumbled as I let my finger trace over the delicate pattern of golden roses that blended beautifully with the rich tan and black color. "I sorta measured your shoe size when I was fixin' the fire." My smile was bigger than ever before when I grabbed the clothing. "Thank you!" I said again before running into the tent with two boxes.

~3rd pov~

Arthur didn't know how to react when she hugged him, or even thanked him for simply buying a few outfits. Never had he had a woman almost tear up over some clothes, even though he had Sadie and Tilly help him with the clothing choices at the shop. He brushed his hair and slipped his hat back on, he kept thinking how he was going to keep a woman inside a camp for an entire week without scaring her off.

He tended to the fire and walked to his horse which carried two hares that he had hunted down on his way back. "You won't last long." He muttered. "Mr. Callaghan?" Y/n said. "Yes?", "Can you help me with something?"

Arthur approached the tent and stood by the flaps, "Anything, ma'am." He replied. Y/n exited the tent and was only wearing her corset with her undergarments covering her legs. "Do you mind undoing this corset for me? I can't reach it, those maids tied it up in a way I couldn't undo it without someone's help." She awkwardly said.

"Oh. . . Of course, here. Turn around." He said, when she did, he felt a small smile tug at the corner of his lips. Her bashful face and her sweet voice made him smile. He pulled the strings loose and undid the different knots and ties before it came undone. "There you go.", "Thank you." She said before entering the tent once more.

"Was your daddy always this. . . Demanding?" Arthur asked her. "Uhm, no actually. When I was nine he wasn't like this at all. He liked it when I wore jeans and boots, supported me about my talents with my bow, but. . . Then his twin brother, or my uncle, and my mother were killed. That's when he changed. Ever since, he's never wanted me to shoot another arrow, dress the same, or even ride Buckley anymore." Y/n answered.

"Wait, how do you know that he was demanding? I never told you all of that." Arthur chuckled and let his thumbs hook onto his belt, "I sorta overheard your conversation by the side of your mansion, I heard him hit you. I was tempted to shoot him right there and then." He confessed.

Y/n was silent, Arthur thought he made her uncomfortable but inside of the tent. She was grinning as she slid the belt into the loops of her jeans. "Well, I appreciate the thought, Mr. Callaghan. Your wife must be lucky to have found such a good man like yourself." She complimented him.

"Nah, I ain't married. I was, but it didn't work out." He said. "Oh, I'm sorry.", "It's alright."

Y/n slid on her boots and sighed when she stretched her arms, she opened the flaps of the tent and walked out. "What do you think?" She asked. Arthur could feel his heart leap out of his chest when he saw her dressed. The jeans brought out her hips, the shirt fitted around her waist and chest so well. The hat on her head and her boots tied it all together along with two regular braids hanging off both her shoulders as she leaned on her leg and crossed her arms.

"Beautiful. . ."

"What was that?" Y/n smiled as she looked at Arthur's dumbfounded expression. "I. . . You look good." He said. Bringing a brighter smile to her lips as she spun around in her new attire, "This feels amazing! It's all brand new! I love these boots, the hat, everything!" She said.

"What do you think we can do tomorrow?" She asked him while looking at the sky. "Whatever you wanna do." He answered. Y/n giggled and took in a deep breath, "I think I like it here." She sighed, "Let's go hunting tomorrow! We can find a deer—oh! Or a bear!"

"A bear?" Arthur said. "I've always wanted to hunt a bear. Especially Mor'du." She muttered. "Who the hell is Mor'du?" Arthur questioned. "You never heard the legend of Mor'du?"

Arthur shook his head and Y/n grinned, "I'll tell you if you take me hunting." She said. Arthur hung his head and sighed, "Sure, we can go hunting tomorrow." He replied

"Yes!" She smiled before hugging him again, "This is going to be the best few days of my life!"

_____________________________________

Part 2 coming soon!

[issybettyx]

BEDROCK BROS AU

Tdlr; Tommy was born into a crime family and is forced into their ideals and pursuits since a young age. Aged 14, he finally goes to therapy without his brother and father knowing. Technoblade is a therapist, purely because he understands the human mind very well and not because of his terrible comforting skills.

Tommy: i have trauma oh and my family is like the most well known crime organisation the police havent been able to catch

Techno: chill, don’t worry man i’m here for you

Or; i listened to music again. And ‘Bust your kneecaps’ came on. And i kind of accidentally made it bedrock bros.

-- // weapons, trauma, blood mention, murder mention, death mention, terrible parents (bad parent Phil, i know, who have i become), arguing

Tommy wasn’t sure when his first heist was. He didn’t remember much of it, that much he was sure of. But he did remember the gut wrenching fear mixed with a determination only caused by the want for a father’s approval.

Wilbur had said he was 7, his mask didn’t fit perfectly but his gun fit fantastically between his fingers, and simply his presence was enough for news of The Syndicate’s newest and youngest member to spread faster than wildfire, and it was news stations’ top story for over three weeks.

Theories of who he was, how old he was, why he seemed to confident despite his young age and questions of why The Syndicate would take in a recruit so young.

“You were our ray of sunshine, Toms,” Wilbur told him with a grin that Tommy couldn’t help but return, accepting the hair ruffles whole-heartedly, “Simply you being there made the entire mission so much easier, I’m so proud of you.”

Maybe those words weighed too much for Tommy to let go, maybe he knew that if he told them how much he was truly against their actions he would never hear them again, and that fear was enough for him to keep his head high for the next seven years of his life. His name made it onto the villain rankings within a matter of months, dubbed number 15 aged 8. It was when Tommy was 11 he reached number 4, and aged 13 when he was number 3, just below his brother.

It had always been that way, Tommy being one of the best but never the best. Phil had always made sure he knew it, assuring him he was amazing at what he did, correcting his hold on the knife until it was perfect for flicking at his opponents, a smile on his face the whole time as he congratulated him. But the way he looked at Wilbur, with a brighter smile, with more pride radiating from his glistening blue eyes as his son burned down entire streets without a single fingerprint to lead it back to him.

Wilbur had always been better than him, and Tommy had come to accept that.

Well, he thought he had.

It was on Tommy’s 14th birthday that he went downstairs to find Wilbur muttering something into his phone, an angry lilt to the way he spoke that made the kid pause.

“No, not today,” he huffed, and Tommy could practically hear him pinching the bridge of his nose, rubbing the corners of his eyes and slightly lifting the glasses off his face in the process, “No, it’s my brother’s birthday, I’m not- dad.”

Oh, it seemed Phil wasn’t there that morning, how strange.

“Well one of us has to be here, he deserves a proper birthday and to be surrounded by people who love him, I’ll help you on fucking Christmas if it means I get to stay home today.”

There was such a firmness to his voice that made Tommy shiver, cupping a hand over his mouth to mask his shaky breaths.

“Fine, but you better be home for dinner.” Wilbur scowled, and the ringing sound of someone hanging up could be heard.

After a moment of deathly silence, Tommy finally walked out, forcing his face into a smile as he peeked his head around the doorframe. The moment Wilbur saw him, his smile widened, and he was rushing right up to him, lifting him up and spinning him.

“Happy birthday sunshine!” He cheered with a bright smile, and Tommy smiled back, knowing his grin could never rival the sun that was his brother’s. “Would you like presents or breakfast first?” He asked, gently landing Tommy’s feet on the carpeted ground and crouching down to his level, ruffling his hair as he giggled, attempting to swat the hand away.

They opened presents first, and despite the fact Tommy wanted to state just how much he adored each gift, thoughts kept swimming around his brain.

Why was Phil working that day? Why did Wilbur seem so off? Why was Wilbur better than him? Why, no matter how hard he tried, was he never enough for his family?

These thoughts led him to Google, seeing as no one else had the answers he assumed Google would (he’d asked Tubbo a random question once, and he’d replied with ‘just ask Google, Google knows everything’). The Google search led Tommy to something called ‘therapy’, which led him to standing outside of a random building two weeks later, taking shaky breaths as he thought everything over.

Everything in therapy, apparently, was confidential. Unless of course it put you or others in danger, but therapists were forced by law to keep everything else in the room within the hour slot given.

As long as Tommy was extremely careful and didn’t mention anything about evil plots and how his father and brother were the top two villains of L’Manberg, he himself being number three, then he could get away with it.

The doors swung open with his forceful confidence, and he flashed a smile at the receptionist as he sauntered over to her, leaning against a wall that was provided. “Here for therapy.” He stated, as if it wasn’t completely obvious. The woman looked him up and down, sighing before smiling, clicking a few times on her computer.

“Name?”

“Tommy Craft.”

“Age?”

“14.”

She looked at him in a strange way, raising an eyebrow that he only returned.

“Do you have parental consent?”

Oh, Google had told him about this too. Lying was never off his agenda, you learn from the very best in fact.

“Well my doctor permitted it, said I was aware enough of my treatment to understand I need it, my Mum dropped me off.” He explained, pointing out front to the car park. Only then did the woman sigh again, clicking again a few times before smiling back at him.

“You can go right in, down the hall and the second door on the left.” She pointed, and Tommy nodded, giving her a short bow.

“Appreciate you,” he told her, before strolling down the hall, keeping his head high and his shoulders lax, humming a melody his brother had played him on his birthday evening when their father still hadn’t gotten home (he got home at 2am, Wilbur was absolutely infuriated, Tommy was surprised to find he didn’t really care). Eventually, he found the door, reading the name plate on the door before knocking.

“Come in.” A deep voice called back to him, and Tommy turned the handle, smiling at the man behind the desk.

A buff man with pink hair wouldn’t be his first guess at a therapist; however, Tommy was a villain, not a horrible person. The man’s hands were crossed across his chest, his legs propped onto the desk showing how his boots didn’t have a speck of dirt, and a pair of reading glasses were perched on his nose.

In one aspect, he looked terrifying. His very small smile matched with his horribly white and completely uncreased frilled shirt painting a strange image, his folded hands too calloused to be anything normal.

In another aspect, Tommy could kick him square in the face and he’d immediately pass out.

“You must be Tommy,” he greeted, and he expected a handshake or something, but instead he just received a small gesture to a w chair with wheels opposite himself. “Take a seat.”

“What’s your name, Dr Blade?” Tommy teased with a grin, falling into the chair and leaning his ankle on top of his knee, sinking into the plush as the wheels rolled it slightly backwards. The man rolled his eyes, flicking a coin between his fingers - when in hells name did he pick up a coin?

“Techno. My name is Techno Blade, you can call me whatever.” He said with a shrugged, chucking the coin into the air and letting it land in his shirt pocket, smiling slightly with pride at his little trick. “How are you today, Tommy?”

It was in that moment that Tommy decided therapy was extremely strange and not for him at all. This man looked completely indifferent, he looked like he would rather be at home reading a book as he threw raw meat at his wolves, not sitting and asking how people’s days are going.

“Technoblade, today I am absolutely fantastic, I woke up, got breakfast, and came here.” He explained, bringing his arms out in a wide gesture. “Pretty remarkable day.”

The man huffed, seemingly amused by the sarcasm.

“Hate to ask such a blunt question kiddo,” Tommy frowned at the name, but decided against commenting on it for now. Didn’t want to upset the man on his first day meeting him. Totally wasn’t a choice made completely out of the rising fear in his chest. “But why are you in therapy? We ask this too all of our patients.”

“Patients? You make it sound like a hospital.” He scoffed, clearly avoiding the question in such a slick way only he and his brother were able to master. But Techno stayed quiet, watching him with a careful eye. Tommy frowned. “What are you doing in therapy? Huh? Technoblade?”

He still didn’t reply.

Strange.

“You’re creeping me out man, your eyes are practically red- oh my god you have red eyes, that’s so cool!”

Silence.

Tommy frowned further, sinking into his chair.

Why was he in therapy?

Google told him to be here, was his first thought. But then he remembered his English lessons, how the teachers always asked why, how they never took anything at face value. Techno seemed like an English teacher, he didn’t seem like someone who would take kindly to the answer ‘Google told me to be here’.

“Family stuff, I guess.” He replied, not one bit pleased, his face quite the contrary to the satisfied hum Techno gave him, picking up a pen and post-it-note, scribbling a few words before looking back up.

“Wanna draw?”

“I’m sorry?”

“This is the first session,” he started, folding his hands in front of him, “We don’t need to get emotional on the first day, it’s about building trust. Speaking of which,” Techno started, and Tommy already knew what he was about to say, “Everything you say in this room is confidential, I only take notes of things I need to remember for future sessions, however if you say something that could put you or others in danger I am legally meant to pass it on, do you understand?”

“No revealing my villain schemes to you, got it.” He replied, half seriously and half jokingly, but the man didn’t seem to hear the former part of the tone, huffing again.

“Well, if they include burying bodies, I know a guy.” He replied just as quickly, and Tommy couldn’t help his laughter, stealing a pen and a post-it-note, immediately sitting it to the arm of his spinning chair and doodling the first thing that came to mind.

The first session went… better than Tommy first thought it would.

There wasn’t any stress when be talked to Techno, and for just that hour he felt a strange safety in the chair as he listened to his therapist talk about polar bears. Tommy found himself rambling about moths half way through, paused to realise the man was listening so carefully that he involuntarily continued, smiling all the while.

After the hour of serenity, the house of chaos he walked into wasn’t exactly what he expected.

“Maybe my grades would be better if I wasn’t out fucking shooting up buildings!” Wilbur yelled way too loudly, and Tommy was glad he’d shut the door as quickly as he had, kicking his shoes off at the door. “Be so fucking glad I respect this organisation and my reputation, or I would be booting it into the sewers.”

“Tommy’s grades are great and he does more shit than you do!” Phil yelled back, and Tommy immediately grimaced, walking into the room with furrowed brows. Neither spared him a glance. “What happened to you, Wil? You used to be so good.” He finished almost wistfully, lifting a hand to touch his cheek, but the brunette immediately slapped it away, ignoring the pained look on Phil’s face as he did so.

“I can’t fucking believe you.”

Tommy didn’t like hearing his brother swear, flinching as he took a careful step back, not entirely sure who to side with.

“Never compare your children! It’s fucking disgusting!”

“I don’t compare you guys, I love you both equally-“

“Equally my arse-“

“Stop!” Tommy shouted over them, and that finally made them pause, staring at him as he stood in the doorway, struggling to hold down his shivers at the icy glares sent his way. “Both of you are acting so fucking childish it’s pathetic!”

“But-“

“You’re just proving my point, Phil.” Tommy never called his dad by his first name out loud, mainly out of pure respect, reserving his first name only for his thoughts or times when Phil wasn’t showing him the same respect back. It seemed to hit a sore spot, because the man flinched, confusion and hurt written over his face. “Whatever you’re both arguing about, you should shut up and get over it! You chose to create this organisation, you chose to have no spare time to study or be at your children’s birthdays, so get over it and get on with stabbing whatever orphans you chose this weekend.”

And without waiting for an answer, Tommy rushed upstairs, leaving behind a stale silence that he didn’t bothering acknowledging, falling onto his bed with a sigh.

Apparently, Tubbo cried when he was angry; that’s what he’d said anyways.

Tommy wasn’t sure what he did when he was angry, but he sure knew what the emotion itself felt like, and he knew most people didn’t simply brush it off as a normal Friday evening and fall off to sleep with ease, letting the emotion simmer until it ultimately gave up.

For a moment, he wondered what Techno did when he was angry, but he pushed the thought away before he could entertain it, forcing his eyes shut until his mind drifted into the abyss.

—

Tommy knocked on the door, the same low voice calling him in as last time forcing him to turn the doorknob. After a moment, he slipped into the chair, keeping a frown on his face as Techno waited expectantly, clearly not a fan of starting emotional conversations despite his job.

“How-“ he started, biting his lip as he tried to push the question away. And yet, he’d been trying it all week, dodging past the longing stares and the tired eyes in favour of going on walks or calling Tubbo. The thought kept returning as the anger simmered away. Phil had never liked stupid questions, constantly scolding him when he asked something he should know the answer to.

But how would he know the answer to this? He didn’t know Techno, not enough anyways.

Was it a stupid question? He knew Phil would say so.

“How do you deal with anger?” He asked anyways, fighting away the anxiety sitting in his head with a sigh to release any tension in his shoulders, keeping his legs still and his face even.

Tommy expected many things in reply; maybe a laugh and a ‘I don’t feel anger, you’re on your own kiddo’, or maybe a ‘don’t be stupid you should know’.

However, he never would’ve guessed the man would genuinely reply. “I do fencing in my spare time, helps release any pent up emotions, a friend recommended it when I was still in school.” He explained, and Tommy forced his face to stay apathetic, keeping just how baffled he was in his nagging mind. When Techno looked up at him, plucking his glasses from his face and twisting them in his hands, that strange sense of safety returned. “Why do you ask?”

Now, Tommy had many options.

He could lie; say he was angry at his friend Tubbo who stole his sandwich at lunch that day.

He could stay silent; a safe option, it would risk not leaking any information about anything.

He could go on a ramble about moths again; now that one was certainly tempting, moths were certainly interesting.

However, he did none of these things, and did one thing that was so foreign to his tongue it made his fingers twitch.

“My brother and Dad had a fight on Friday and brought me into it, it just pissed me off I guess.”

He told the truth.

Tommy couldn’t remember the last time he’d told the truth so easily and without an ounce of consideration, telling the truth wasn’t in his plans at all! And yet, the words were forced out of him as easily as a river flows. And Techno simply hummed, writing something down on a post-it-note.

“How do you usually deal with strong emotions?” He asked slowly, raising an eyebrow at the kid who frowned, looking at the ground in thought.

“I don’t feel strong emotions.” Was what he finally decided on, and that seemed to shock the other a little more than expected.

“What about that anger you were just on about?” He asked, a little baffled and clearly a little joking, yet there was a genuineness to his tone that made Tommy falter. Now that was where he drew the line. Tommy didn’t falter, he didn’t stumble amidst a fight or shake when he he held a gun, and he certainly didn’t start to like the idea of being listened to for once by someone who seemed horrendously trust-worthy.

“That-“ he started, shaking his head as he tried to force his mouth firmly shut, but it seemed his brain had other plans, “That feels normal at this point, that anger that I felt is just how I always feel, it’s natural I guess.”

The room fell into a strange silence, with Tommy clamping his hand over his mouth and Techno thinking in a quiet consideration.

“Do I have your permission to ask a possibly sensitive question?” Techno asked after the moment stretched on too long, and Tommy found himself blinking in confusion, pulling his hand away from his mouth as he slowly nodded. Techno cleared his throat, “What was your childhood like?”

The way Tommy froze was likely answer enough.

Tommy remembers the joy he felt as Phil gave him his first knife for Christmas when he was 5, and Wilbur’s giddy chuckles were enough to make him treasure it. Phil had also bought him a dummy to practice on, and he made sure to spend any spare time he had on mastering the arts of wielding a knife.

He remembers hearing a muttered promise as he drifted off to sleep, he was four at the time and had woken from a nightmare.

‘Whatever the cost, I will always protect you.’ Phil had whispered when he assumed Tommy had fallen asleep; but a four-year-old who’d just witnessed a murder because of an attempt on his own life never drifted off easily.

And that was… it. Anything else from before he was seven, he didn’t have any recollection of it.

However, he felt the dread in his stomach, the feeling of blood on his fingertips and noticed how his legs had started to shake despite no pressure being applied to them at all.

Those sweet memories apparently didn’t mean much to Tommy’s mind, despite how much joy he looked back on them with.

“Honestly?” He asked, Techno nodding encouragingly. “I don’t know.”

“You froze when I mentioned it.” The man pointed out, and Tommy frowned, forcing his leg to stop bouncing before the other noticed that too. “It can’t have been great.”

“I remember that I was loved, and I was safe, and I remember about two memories before the age of 7.” He confessed, his attempts at stopping the words flowing almost completely gone already with the knowledge he couldn’t stop. Maybe it was the calm atmosphere, maybe it was the genuinely interested expression on Techno’s face, or maybe it was the painting of a polar bear that was hung on the wall staring into his soul and commanding he let out all his secrets. Whatever it was, Tommy couldn’t manage to fight it no matter how hard he tried.

“Why before 7?” He asked, and Tommy paused, staring into his eyes with something uncertain. This time, not even his body willed him to speak, which Tommy was ever thankful for. “You don’t have to tell me, you’re not obliged to.”

“Why do you speak like that?”

“Speak like what?”

“Obliged,” he mocked, trying and failing to mimic the man’s extremely small smile, “Permission.” He expressed, and the man’s hands moved in front of his mouth, a questioning look on his face, “They are very strange words.”

“Would you rather me say ‘need’ and ‘allowed’?” He asked cautiously, clearly asking a question that Tommy somehow didn’t catch, sighing with a soft smile that said ‘you are so fucking dumb it hurts me’.

“I would rather you talk to me like the child I am,” he explained, deciding that this was a lesson well worth teaching the other, “I don’t get a chance to choose, you don’t need ‘permission’ from me, and I am obliged, that’s my entire point of being here, to listen to what adults tell me to do without a second thought.”

The room was silent, and Tommy sighed, frowning at the strange expression on the man’s face.

“What? The honest truth too much for you to handle?”

“Tommy.” He started, the boy humming, partially keen to hear how he’d learned his lesson. “Tommy you-“ he paused, thinking over his words carefully and making Tommy pause with him, fear returning ever so slightly. “Who told you that?”

“I-“ he started, clamping his mouth shut in favour of glaring at Techno. The man sounded and looked a little insane, thought Tommy would be lying if he said he didn’t consider dying his hair pink after their first session (he ultimately decided it wouldn’t look good for his villain brand).

“As a human, you’re entitled to respect, do you know what that means?” He asked, and the question seemed… foreign, in a way. Usually, questioned worded as such were said with such malice and scolding he was forced to say yes and agree; but Techno asked it so honestly, genuine concern written beneath his words.

“No?”

Tubbo had probably said it once, but then again Tubbo said many things.

“Respect means to regard other people’s feelings, opinions, emotions, and so on,” he explained, and Tommy frowned, tilting his head to the side in questioning. “For example, if you told me you didn’t want to eat mint ice cream, I wouldn’t force you to eat it, because i’m taking your feelings into regard, does that make sense?”

The concept made sense, but that wasn’t how the world worked.

Wilbur had explained it as such; the world doesn’t give you love, so why love it? Why, if the world was going to destroy you, should you not destroy it first?

“I- kind of?” He tried, bringing his knees to his chest and resting his chin on top of them, pulling his arms around his legs. “But who respects people? Do you respect people?”

“I do, I respect everyone who respects me,” Techno explained, “And sometimes even those who don’t respect me.”

Tommy frowned even further.

“Why?”

Techno hummed for a moment, tapping his pen on his desk in thought.

“Who’s your closest friend?”

“Tubbo.” Tommy replied immediately, no hesitation, and Techno smiled as if he’d won the lottery (in the Technoblade smile books anyhow).

“Okay, so imagine if Tubbo did something terrible, and he made you feel really sad.” It sounded as if he was a toddler, but again Tommy didn’t comment. “But then he apologised and showed he was really regretful of his actions, what would you do?”

After a quick moment of thought, Tommy replied, “Forgive him.”

“Right. But would you have to forgive him?”

“Yes.” Tommy replied just as quickly and just as confidently, and was only confused when Techno paused, his onslaught of questions coming to a halt. So, he decided to explain his opinion, maybe he would finally agree with something he said. “It’s not good to hold grudges, and if I forgive them it makes them happier, and I want Tubbo to be happy.”

The room stayed silent, and Tommy decided it would be best to stay quiet, watching the other closely as he looked across the room, a lost look in his eyes.

“Can I give you some homework, Tommy?”

At the prospect, he scoffed. “Therapy homework? Seriously Technoblade, you’ve fallen to a new low big man.”

“Your therapy homework this week is to not do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” Techno said it with such seriousness he couldn’t argue, slowly nodding. “Set boundaries, and if Tubbo comes and says he’s murdered your cousin don’t immediately forgive him.”

“If Tubbo committed murder he would have a damn good reason to do so.”

“Tommy.”

“Right, therapy homework, boundaries, learn respect, got it.”

Techno leaned back in his chair, and despite it all, Tommy found himself doing the same, enjoying the calm environment far more than he probably should.

Maybe he could get used to this.

They spoke about raccoons for the rest of the session, and Tommy felt a determination burning in his chest as he strolled down the hallway, waving goodbye to the receptionist lady.

The determination was a foreign feeling; it wasn’t the determination to make his father proud of him, or to be better than his brother, but rather to make him proud of himself.

And maybe, it all started with Technoblade.

//////——————////////

There was so much more i wanted to write but this shit was getting long and my heart is playing up again, so uh, bedrock bros :D

Hope yall enjoyed, yknow if you somehow managed to read the entire thing I sure hope you didn’t waste your time LMAO

Ily all <3

[horrificshit]

Curiosity

Debbie Ocean x F!Reader

Warning(s): Smut and fluff :3

A/N: this is just a lil ficlet ive been working on in between my other ones <3 ENJOY!!

Words: 941

Late one night, Debbie Ocean found herself in a dark, dive bar. A stress-reliever following a long day of planning. She was debating staying one more night in her hotel room or calling it quits when she spotted a stunning female at the other end of the bar. Her eyes were an enchanting shade of green, ringed with thick lashes. Her hair was the color of a freshly sharpened pencil, cascading in a perfectly unkempt manner down her back. It was apparent from her posture and the way she sipped her drink, she oozed confidence, and Debbie knew she had to get to know her.

Debbie slid onto the barstool next to her with the nonchalance that only years of planning had granted her. "Hi there, I couldn't help but notice the mesmerizing way you're holding your whiskey," she said, flashing a smile that could charm Houdini.

The woman, Kate Burton, lifted her glass to meet Debbie's eyes and offered a polite smile in return. "That's quite the compliment, but I'm afraid you'll be sorely disappointed. I'm afraid my only talent is creating spreadsheets."

Debbie burst out laughing, a warm sound that filled the space between them. "I'm glad to know that the world isn't filled with magical creatures like you. Although, I bet you could turn a spreadsheet into something enchanting."

Kate blushed, her cheeks turning a rosy pink. The women chatted all night, their connection growing stronger with each sip of whiskey. Soon enough, they were enveloped in a kiss, the electricity between them palpable.

Debbie led the way to her hotel room. Kate hesitated for a moment, torn between her desire and the rational part of her brain that reminded her she barely knew this woman. But the fire in Debbie's gaze was impossible to ignore.

Once they stepped into the luxurious suite, Debbie dived back into Kate, kissing her fiercely. Kate's hands ran through Debbie's hair as they melted onto the plush bed. Debbie trailed kisses along Kate's jawline, down her neck, and onto her shoulder.

Kate moaned softly, her hands finding their way to Debbie's blouse. She opened it, running her fingers along the warm skin that was revealed. Debbie's hands were not to be outdone, as she slid Kate's blouse off, revealing a delicate, lacy bra. She began to caress Kate's breasts through the fabric, her fingers tracing circles that sent shivers down Kate's spine.

Debbie's lips found Kate's again, their kisses growing more urgent, their tongues dueling for dominance as if their very lives depended on it. Debbie's hand slipped beneath Kate's skirt, her fingers finding the heated core between Kate's legs. She began to gently tease Kate's clit through her panties, causing her to arch her back.

Kate's hands were soon fumbling with Debbie's trousers, pushing them down her legs until she was entirely free. Kate's eyes locked onto Debbie's as she removed her own underwear, emboldened by their passion and the night's events.

Debbie licked Kate's nipple, biting down just enough to send her reeling. Kate's head fell back in pure bliss, her nails digging into Debbie's back. Debbie then eased herself down, her lips finding Kate's core. Kate's breath hitched as she felt Debbie's tongue, expertly licking her swollen clit.

Soon enough, Kate couldn't hold back any longer; she cried out Debbie's name as she came, her thighs clenching around Debbie's head. Debbie, unable to resist, guided Kate onto her back and entered her, plunging deep. Kate's eyes met Debbie's, and they held each other's gazes as they moved in perfect rhythm.

The night grew cold outside, but their passion kept them warm. The way their bodies entwined was as strategic as any heist Debbie had ever planned. They came together, their cries echoing through the silent room, as they collapsed in each other's arms.

The next morning, as the sun crept through the curtains, Kate and Debbie lay wrapped in each other's arms. They had shared more than just their bodies; they'd shared a connection, an unspoken promise that grew with every stolen glance.

And so, Debbie's nights became a whirlwind of passion, while her days were consumed by their daring plans. With Kate by her side, the world was theirs to steal, one heart-stopping heist at a time.

After the climax of their night, Debbie and Kate found themselves in a world where the line between personal and professional blurred. Each new heist they planned, they did so in the comfort of each other's arms. Lying in bed, discussing strategies and contingency plans, their intimacy became as much a part of their partnership as any plan or asset.

Their love transcended the halls they roamed and the jewels they lifted. As they walked through crowded events side by side, Kate held Debbie's gaze, sending her secret messages encoded in the warmth of her smile. Their chemistry was as explosive as the detonators they set off.

Their nights were filled with whispers of grand plans and hot kisses. Debbie's hands roamed Kate's body like a map of fortune and treasure, while Kate clung to Debbie, drawn to her by gravitational forces stronger than any they'd experienced before.

Together, they became an inseparable entity, a formidable combination of brains, brawn, and passion. They walked the streets of the city as if they owned it, ready to leave their mark with each caper they undertook.

Their love was a beacon that guided them, a safe place in the midst of the chaotic world they inhabited. They held each other close, their hearts beating as one, always moving forward, always ready to defy the odds, to steal the world, bit by bit, together.

[wren-l-winter]

Hear me out hear me out hear me out

A upperclass gentlewoman thief and the head of the city guard

Our thief plays the guise of a sweet and innocent heiress by day while stealing from the rich and giving to the poor (and a little to herself) during the night. Our stoic serious guardswoman has taken it to herself to look after the heiress while investigating the heists that have been occurring all across the city's most high status districts. While on the outside it seems like the guard is looking after the heiress because she thinks she'll be the next target, it's actually because she has already figured out she's the mystery thief she's looking for although she isn't allowed to make an arrest until she finds concrete evidence

And our heiress in turn has found out the guard is onto her keeping her close to make sure she never finds the proof she needs, and because she just can't resist a pretty face. After all for a thrill seeker what's better than having wine and getting maybe a little too close with the one person who's threatening your whole operation. Who knows, maybe our charming trickster thief can convince her darling knight playing detective to hang up her shield and retire early and comfortably, with the funds she's... Come across over time

...God I'm so gay

Day 2 of writing a sapphic short story every day! I went a little off script but hope you all enjoy :)

She went by many names. Thief. Liar. Criminal. Pickpocket. Betrayer. But tonight, as she crossed the threshold of the ballroom, she shed those names like a snake shedding skin. Tonight, she was something else. Something sweet and intoxicating. Tonight, she was the Heiress to the Bloodrose fortune. 

The fabric of her dress, dipped in dyes forged from the midnight sky, clung to her lithe form, accentuating her curves while allowing her to move as she pleased. Intricate silver embroidery traced delicate patterns along the hemline, reminiscent of moonlit constellations scattered across the inky heavens. Each stitch seemed to shimmer and dance beneath the light of the chandeliers. This dress was her favorite. Not because of the silken material or the plunging neckline, but because of the dozens of hidden pockets hidden in the folds. They were perfect for holding anything the heiress could get her slender fingers on. 

But her night of graceful pilfering came to an end as a figure clad in armor emerged from the crowd to meet her. 

“Captain,” she said by way of greeting, “lovely seeing you here.” 

The Captain of the Guard, clad in her polished uniform of silver and a cape of crimson, stepped into a practiced bow. “I could say the same,” she replied easily, her voice tinted with an accent the heiress had only heard amongst the commoners. 

The heiress hummed, her painted lips pulling into a lopsided grin. “What can I do for you, Captain? Or are all the ladies attending honored with a greeting from our esteemed protector?” 

The captain straightened, her features pleasant but unamused. “Only you, heiress.” 

She liked the sound of that. “And why is that?” A passing servant holding a tray of goblets passed. The sloshing red liquid was irresistible to her. She took the cup and savored her first sip of many. 

“To protect you. There have been rumors of a thief targeting the nobility. From what I’ve gathered, they’ve set their eyes on you. For the night, you are under my protection,” the captain said. 

She’d heard the nuisance of a guard had caught onto her but she hadn’t imagined she’d be so bold as to approach her during the ball. The heiress took a deep drink from her glass before smiling up at the woman meant to accompany her for the night. “The Goddess has showered me with her blessings then,” she said. “Do you dance?” “Do I dance?” 

The heiress grinned at the way the captain’s shoulders rose like a feline’s haunches. “Mhmm. Surely they taught you how to dance as a part of your training.”

The captain blushed. “I’m afraid not.” “Then I’ll teach you.” Oh, tonight would be fruitful after all. 

She took the captain’s hand, leading her through the crowd of serpents eager to gain her favor. She slipped past them. Dodging outstretched arms and offered hands with a practiced grace and poise. She didn’t care to listen to their marriage proposals tonight. 

“Now,” the heiress turned toward the captain at the edge of the dance floor, “put your hand on my waist.” The warmth of her touch bled through the soft fabric of her dress, drawing up the faintest of blooms across her cheek. She put her hand on the captain’s shoulder before taking her hand. “Follow my lead when the song begins. We’ll start with small steps.” The orchestra began, filling the room with the sound of rich cellos and the rhythmic beat of drums. They began their dance a bit awkwardly as the heiress directed her dance partner where to step. To the captain’s credit, she only stepped on her toes twice before easing into the dance. 

“And now, you know how to dance,” the heiress laughed. 

The captain kept her gaze averted, perhaps scanning the crowd for threats or simply trying to keep them from crashing into another dancing couple. “It’s not as difficult as I thought it would be,” she admitted.

“Honestly, I wasn’t sure you’d be able to move so gracefully in all that metal,” the heiress mused as her hand gave a pointed squeeze to her shoulder. “Ha, you’d be surprised how gracefully I can move in uniform.” Long lashes danced across her cheeks. “Is that so? Perhaps later you could show me just how gracefully you can move.” The heiress had heard of the captain and the ladies that held her affection, but the heiress never thought she’d be one of the courted women.

The guard blanched, her face looking as though it had been burned by long hours beneath the sun. “Oh, I didn’t-that’s not what I-forgive me-” The heiress laughed, a sound more genuine than she’d meant. “There’s nothing to forgive,” she cooed and closed the space between them. “You are enchanting, Captain. The finest guard I’ve ever had the pleasure of dancing with.” She relished the way the woman squirmed beneath the weight of her words. 

The song changed, the tempo leaving no room for the heiress’s teasing. Fate had spared her prey from her toying. 

The two danced until their legs could hardly take another step and the heiress yearned to be rid of her heeled shoes. Tired and a touch out of breath, she found it far too easy to coax the captain away from the ballroom to the cool air of the gardens. Surrounded by flowering quince and honeysuckle, they walked the pristine paths beneath the gaze of the moon. 

“About what you said earlier,” the heiress said, looking over to the guarded features of the captain, “I would love to take you up on the offer.” “It wasn’t an offer,” she replied stiffly.

A soft laugh left the noblewoman. “Wasn’t it?” She took a daring step in front of the guard, stopping her from continuing. “The way you held me, looked at me, I’d say you’d be as happy as I would be to give it a try. I wouldn’t tell anyone.” She lifted her hands, running them over the silver armor just above her chest. “It could be our secret.” 

“No.” Gloved hands grabbed her forearms, removing her hands from her. “I know what you are, heiress,” she hissed. 

“And what am I,” she leered. 

The captain snarled down at her. Any trace of infatuation lingering from their dance had vanished. “You’re the thief. I can’t prove it yet, but I will. It’s my duty.” 

“Duty,” the heiress scoffed. “Your duty is to your people, not these glittering fools prancing about like those beneath them aren’t starving.” 

“I do what I must to keep our city protected from criminals like you.” “From what I’ve heard, the only crime the thief has committed is helping their people when the nobility won’t.” 

“Don’t play games with me,” the captain spat, releasing her as she took a step back. 

The heiress grinned, danger glistening in her eye. “It’s too late for that.”

The guard was unprepared for the swiftness in which the thief moved. A shove and her foot behind her ankle was all it took to have the captain laid out on the stone path. The heiress was upon her the moment she struck the ground. “You will help me, Captain,” she said inches from her face, “or you will lose everything you’ve worked for.” “I’d never help someone like you,” the guard seethed. 

“Oh, but you will.” Unable to resist, she lowered her head, letting her lips scrape along the cusp of her ear. “There’s a necklace in your quarters that belongs to the Duchess of Eldoria. How long has it been missing? Three months? Five? Imagine what she’d do to you if she found out you were the one who’d stolen it.” The heiress pulled back, grinning down at the guard. “So you can work with me, or you can face her wrath.” 

The guard stared up at her, at a loss for words. Stars above, she was adorable looking up at her like that.

“If I don’t have a letter in my hand by tomorrow night, I’ll take it as a no, but,” she traced her finger along the woman’s jaw, “if you decide to accept my offer, I would love if you accepted it in my chambers, preferably in my bed.” 

In one fluid movement, she rose and stepped away. “Goodnight, Captain.” 

[thebluestbluewords]

hi it’s itsalwaysforyou!!! for the valentines prompts i would loveeee a jal + ‘spending their night walking through the city together’ if you’re up for it!!! <3

❤️ @itsalwaysforyou youuuuu get my initial unedited Jalentine’s thoughts!! They’re meant to be about thirteen here. It’s more bantering through their city than walking, but they’re together and it’s written and that’s the important thing!

*

February 14, fifteen years since imprisonment. 

"You're being stupid." Jay insists, swinging around a chimney. "We can totally take on a bunch of pirates for the after-whatever candy spoils. We don't need to wait for them to grab it all and re-hawk it or whatever." 

"Melt it down into mush," Mal says, around a tongue that feels a little mushy already. "Stew it into pink slop. Cover their potato shit with it." 

"Candied potatoes," Jay echoes back. "That's what we'll do with it. Steal their stuff and make potato bombs with it. Candy outside, wet potato inside." 

"You've been hanging out around that kid too much. That. The one. With the stuff." 

Jay hops over the gap between the roof of the slop shop and the used broom store. "The one with the stuff? Very descriptive, killer."

Mal eyes the gap carefully. If they weren't trapped on the isle, if she had the magic she can feel boiling in her brain sometimes, she'd fly over the gap like a proper dragon. She'd have wings, and horns, and everything she could ever want, if she had magic. 

As it is, stuck on the isle of leftovers, she hops over the gap without magic. If she wasn't on the isle of the lost, she'd probably be trapped in some stuffy castle in the moorlands wirh her mother, learning the ways of evil, instead of out on her streets. So really, who cares if she doesn't have magic. She's got more freedom than any of the Auradon girls they catch on TV sometimes, and she's got Jay. Her partner in crime. 

And they've got a candy heist to plan. 

"Whatever. You know the kid I'm talking about. The one with the--" Mal makes a motion towards her own purple hair, trying to wrack the name of the kid Jay's been obsessed with out of her sluggish brain. "The hair. The. DeVil!" 

Jay lifts an evil eyebrow at her. "It took you that long to come up with DeVil?"

"Shut up, I'm not the one who's been following him around," Mal snaps. "It's not like it's an inconvenience to me or anything, when you're off following him all the time." 

Jay's smile gets bigger. "I'm recruiting. Potato bombs, seriously. He's got the biggest explosions out of anyone in weird science."

"Like you'd know." Mal scoffs. "You haven't been to school in a month." 

"School's for sidekicks." 

Sidekicks, and villains, and any kid without somewhere better to be. It's not like they have options, on an island the size of Mal's pinky finger. "Yeah, and that's what I'll demote you to if we don't get this candy before the pirates get their hands on it. We move in early," Mal suggests. "Jump to the barge from the bridge, before they're docked. We can pretend we're with the pirates." 

Jay laughs around the mouth of his bottle. "Argh, me hearties," he says, with enthusiasm. "Avast. Belay." 

Mal laughs too, because they're alone right now, and it's not like Jay's going to mock her for being weak enough to find humor in something. "Perfect. We'll blend right in, they'll never suspect a thing." 

"Except for how you humiliated the leader of their gang, and they hate our guts, so they'll definitely catch on to us right away." 

Mm. 

"Except for that," Mal agrees, taking a drink from her own bottle of warm, sweet cider. "Fuck the pirates." 

Jay laughs again. It's a low sound, one that makes Mal want to do terrible things to him. "Fuck 'em," Jay says, laughing around the words, like he's not hurting just as much as she is, like they're not just two broken chips off their parent's shoulders. "We could do better." 

The memory of their pirates is too raw for Mal to stop herself. "I'm better. Than them. You're better." 

There's a half-smile slipping onto Jay's face. He looks strange and handsome in the light of the moon, which is the best light they get, up on the rooftops of their city. "You're drunk." 

"Not that drunk." Mal admits. She's had half a bottle, and it's not the cheap stuff that'll fuck you up in a shot. They're drinking tonight because it's fun, and because they're maybe, possibly a little bit lonely together, and because not even the isle of the lost can escape the messaging of the stupid, silly Auradon holidays about love. "I could fuck you. If you want." 

"You mean it?" 

They're closer together than they're supposed to be. Villains don't care about each other, and they don't have relationships, and they don't break up with pirates and rebound with their remaining gang members, and-- 

Jay's mouth is hot and wet, and if this is what she's not supposed to have, than Mal might not be a very wicked villain at all.