#these are....random and made up on the spot

[itneverendshere]

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - EIGHT

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mentions of pregnancy; abortion.

MASTERLIST

Topper prided himself in keeping out of people’s business.

He hadn’t noticed anything was off with you on his own, he wouldn’t have; he didn’t do the whole “emotional radar” thing.

But Rafe had practically cornered him, demanding he figure out what was going on with you.

You were his cousin, after all. 

That didn’t stop the way his stomach twisted from thinking about lying to you, or how every part of him had always silently rooted for you and Rafe. He’d loved seeing you two together. You were a mess most days, for years, sure, but it was the kind of mess that made sense in a way, and Topper couldn’t help but admire it.

You were like fire and gasoline.

But that was before the break-up, before everything got fucked.

Now, you were just… distant. He never knew how to approach you without feeling like he was crossing a line, but the way you’d passed out on Rafe at the beach had him worrying in a way that was more personal than he wanted to admit.

He wasn’t a thinker, not really, he liked simple things: good waves, cold beer, and not getting roped into drama.

But there he was, standing outside your door with Korean fried chicken. He didn’t do feelings, and he didn’t do heavy conversations. Rafe owed him big for this. The conversation had been good, even when you started talking about Sarah and Ruthie. 

Topper was all in—laughing along, throwing in a dumb joke here and there, the usual. It felt nice, like when you were kids, sneaking your dad’s beers and pretending you weren’t gonna get caught.

But then he had to go and ruin it by asking if you were okay.

You went all stiff, then weirdly far away, laughing it off like he’d just asked you to explain calculus or something. You mumbled something about being fine and then bolted to the bathroom before he could even follow up with his usual Topper-brand wisdom.

He sat there, feeling uncomfortable, which wasn’t a thing he usually did. You were acting off, and it was messing with him more than he wanted to admit.

Finally, he decided he needed to move, so he got up to grab some water. Except, as he walked past the counter, his hip caught a pile of your mail, and an envelope went sliding to the floor.

“Crap,” he muttered, crouching to grab it. It was just some random envelope, but there was a phone number written on the front in messy blue ink.

Topper didn’t think about it—because thinking wasn’t really his strong suit—he just whipped out his phone and typed it in. Curiosity, man. It got him every time.

He hit call. He wasn’t trying to snoop or anything. It was just one of those things you do on autopilot, right? Call a number just to see who answers? Except this time, someone did answer.

The phone rang. Once. Twice. Then:

“Women’s Health Center, how can I help you?”

His brain short-circuited, full-on panic mode. He stared at the phone like it had grown a second screen, then frantically hit the hang-up button just as the bathroom door creaked open.

You were back.

Topper, sweating for no reason, slapped the envelope back on the counter like it was about to explode and turned to you with a smile that definitely didn’t match his pounding heart.

He got out of there as soon as possible, as he drove to meet Rafe, the whole thing was still playing on a loop in his head. That phone number, the voice on the other end of the line, the way you’d acted when he’d asked if you were okay—he couldn’t stop trying to force the pieces into place.

Something was going on, he wasn't sure what, and he wasn’t exactly the guy you went to for deep insights, but he felt something was up.

When he pulled into Tanyhill, he spotted Rafe leaning against his truck, scrolling through his phone with that permanent scowl he seemed to have these days. He barely had the car in park before Rafe was pushing off the truck and heading his way.

He climbed out, doing his best to act normal—which, for him, meant cracking the same goofy grin he always did. His mind was still spinning with a dozen half-formed thoughts about that phone call, that clinic, and how the the fuck he might fit into all of it. 

The only thing he knew for sure was that Rafe knowing could be catastrophic. Like, meteor-hits-earth catastrophic.

“You gotta chill,” Topper said, slamming his car door shut and giving Rafe a once-over. “Why do you look like you’re about to punch somebody?”

Rafe just glared, shoving his phone in his pocket. “What’d you find out?”

He blinked, thrown by how fast he cut to the point. “Nice to see you, too. Second, what makes you think I found out anything?”

“Don’t fuck with me, Top. Did you figure it out or not?”

“Yeah, I figured it out,” Topper shot back, crossing his arms. “But why the hell did you make me go through all this work if you already know what’s going on?”

Rafe shrugged, leaning back against the truck like this was all just some casual conversation. “Didn’t think you’d actually get it, to be honest.”

“Bro, I’m not that stupid. How did you get to the bottom of this shit? I’m still confused as fuck over here.”

Rafe’s mouth twitched like he was deciding whether to smirk or yell, hesettled on neither. “She passed out on me, remember?”

“So?” Topper shot back, frowning. “I’ve seen you pass out for, like, way less.”

“It wasn’t the same. It wasn’t a hangover or heat stroke, it was different. And she’s been weird lately, avoiding everyone.” Rafe leaned back against his truck, arms crossed, talking fast. “The hospital did blood work.”

Topper, who’d been zoning out halfway through his little doctor act, suddenly perked up.

“Wow,” he mused, dragging the word out. “Okay. So, how’d you take the news? I mean, shit, you look pretty calm for once. Didn’t think that was in your wheelhouse."

Rafe frowned, his sharp blue eyes narrowing, the crease between his brows deepening like it always did when he thought someone was wasting his time. 

"The fuck are you talking about?”

Topper shrugged like this was totally normal. “I just expected you to, like…freak out or somethin'. Throw a punch, maybe.”

“Throw a punch about what?” Rafe snapped.

“About—” Topper paused, squinting at Rafe like he was trying to solve a puzzle. “Wait. What are you supposed to do?”

Rafe’s hand twitched toward his jaw, fingers brushing over the stubble there, a telltale sign that he was gearing up to lose patience. He didn’t wait for Topper to answer before shaking his head, the movement quick and irritated. 

“Don’t do that, man,” he added, pointing a finger “I’ll help her figure it out. What else can I do?”

Topper tilted his head, genuinely impressed. “Damn. You really matured, huh? I mean, good for you.”

“Top, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Rafe demanded, his tone sharp now like he was finally catching on to the fact that they weren’t on the same page.

Topper blinked, “I’m just saying you’re handling it better than I thought. Especially since she’s not—uh, showing yet.”

“Not showing what?”

“…The bump?”

He immediately realized he’d said the wrong thing, or maybe the right thing, but in the wrong tone, with the wrong level of context, and—okay, maybe he should just stop talking. 

Abort mission, abort mission. Topper immediately wanted to crawl into a hole. Dude, shut up, shut up, shut up.

“What the fuck?” Rafe’s voice cracked; his eyes blazing as he stepped closer. “What bump?!”

His laugh fizzled out under Rafe’s glare, it was starting to feel less like “concerned ex-boyfriend” and more like “interrogating cop.” He felt a bead of sweat slide down the back of his neck. 

Cool. Stay cool.

“Wait,” Topper held his hands up, trying to physically stop the situation from spiraling. “What do you think is wrong with her?”

His brain was spinning in a way it wasn’t built for. He was a simple guy—he liked clear problems and easy fixes. But this? This was a category-five disaster, and he was stuck right in the middle of it.

Rafe let out a sharp breath through his nose, dragging a hand through his hair, the small strands sticking up in every direction.

“I think she’s got a fucking infection! Why the hell would I think she’s pregnant?”

Topper hesitated, glancing toward the house like maybe Sarah or Wheezie might miraculously appear to save him. No such luck.

“Well fucking shit,” Topper blurted, the words tumbling out in a rush. His heart was pounding, and he was pretty sure he’d just signed his death warrant. “I—I didn’t say she’s pregnant, okay? I found this number, and it was for a women’s health center, and—fuck, man, I’m dead. I’m so dead.”

Rafe grabbed him by the collar, yanking him close. “Start talking. Now.”

“I wasn’t snooping, okay? It just—happened. I wasn’t trying to get in her business, but—”

“But what?” Rafe barked. His other hand twitched at his side, curling into a fist before flexing out again, a warning of how close Topper was to eating pavement, but Rafe wasn’t the one he feared right now.

You were going to kill him.

He could already picture the look on your face when you found out—those cold, furious eyes, the way your voice would drop, he was officially dead meat. He gulped, his mouth dry as his brain scrambled for something—anything—that wouldn’t get him killed or disowned.

“You better explain what the fuck you mean by ‘happened,’” Rafe growled, his grip tightening, giving Topper’s collar a shake, just enough to make his point clear.

Topper was done, leaving nothing but pure panic and the faint, distant sound of his voice saying things he definitely shouldn’t. 

“I called the number!” Topper yelped. “I didn’t even mean to, it was—dude, she’s gonna kill me, and I mean that literally. She will.”

“Not if I kill you first,” Rafe shoved him back, his grip finally loosening, his face unreadable now, which was somehow worse than when he’d looked ready to punch him. “You’re telling me you think she’s pregnant? And you didn’t remember to tell me sooner?”

“I didn’t!” Topper said quickly, panic bubbling over. “It’s not like she’s gonna tell me this kind of stuff.”

“Did she say anything to you? Anything about seeing a doctor or being sick?”

Topper shook his head so fast it made him dizzy. “I asked if she was okay, but she just brushed it off and changed the subject.”

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating, both of them staring each other down.

“No, no way. She’s probably… I don’t fucking know, changing her pill or something.”

Topper raised an eyebrow. “Changing her pill?”

“Yeah,” Rafe said quickly, “Or—what else do they do there? Those check-up things. Maybe she’s getting one of those.”

“Uh-huh,” Topper replied, not convinced but also not dumb enough to call him out on it outright. “Sure. Just a… routine check-up?”

“Exactly,” Rafe agreed a little too loud, his tone almost defensive as he started circling again, his hands gesturing wildly. “They don’t just deal with… y'know. They do all kinds of shit. Tests, prescriptions, all that stuff. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Topper scratched the back of his neck, his expression caught between agreement and unease. “I mean, yeah, they do other stuff… but don’t you think—”

“I don’t think anything, there’s nothing to think about. She’s fine. She’s—she’s fine.” He stopped pacing, standing rigid with his hands on his hips, glaring at the ground like it had personally offended him.

“Okay,” Topper started, his tone cautious. “I get that you don’t want to jump to conclusions, but—”

“I’m not jumping to conclusions!” Rafe barked, spinning around “You’re the one making it into something it’s not! She’s not—she wouldn’t—she hasn’t told me anything,” He muttered finally, “And if she’s hiding this… from me…”

He’d never seen Rafe like this—angry, yeah, but there was something else there, either way, it wasn’t good. His glare burned into him, but for the first time, there was hesitation behind it. He wasn’t just mad—he was scared. Topper couldn’t decide if that made him feel better or worse. 

“Holy shit,” Rafe muttered, gripping the side of his truck for balance. His vision going fuzzy as his heart raced like he’d just sprinted a mile. “Holy shit, what if—what if she is?”

“Dude, breathe,” Topper said, stepping closer cautiously like Rafe was a live grenade. “You don’t even—”

“Even if—if—she was, how the hell would that even—” He cut himself off, his face twisting like he couldn’t decide whether to finish the thought or abandon it entirely.

Topper didn’t need him to finish, he understood exactly what Rafe was thinking. The timeline, the breakup, the way everything had gone down between you.

Rafe’s breath hitched as he let go of the truck and paced a few steps, his hands on his hips, muttering under his breath. “No. No way. It’s not—she’d tell me, right? She’d fucking tell me.”

Images started flashing through his mind in rapid succession, each one more ridiculous and unhinged than the last. You, standing in some clinic, staring at a test with a blank expression. You, trying to figure out how to tell Rafe.

You, holding a baby—Rafe’s baby—in your arms.

“This doesn’t make any sense. We were careful. She’s just stressed, girls go through shit. Hormones or whatever. Right?”

“You’re asking me? I barely passed bio. I’m not exactly a walking textbook on—” He stopped himself, seeing the look on Rafe’s face. “I don’t know what’s going on with her, okay? But if this is what I think it is, you gotta handle it right. Don’t screw it up more than it already is.”

“And if I don’t handle it right?”

Topper forced a shaky grin, even as his stomach twisted in knots.

“Then I guess I’ll see you in hell, man. Because she’s gonna kill us both.”

Rafe’s hands went to his hips, his thumb brushing the edge of his pocket as he stared past Topper, he was trying to work out an equation that wasn’t adding up.

“She hasn’t said a word to me,” Rafe muttered, “Not at the hospital, not since. And you think…” He trailed off, dragging a hand over his face. 

Topper shifted on his feet, resisting the urge to bolt to the other side of the world.

“I guess, but I swear, it wasn’t on purpose.”

Rafe shot him a look, his brows knitting together, and Topper felt like he was under a microscope. “You called a random number. How does that ‘just happen’?”

He huffed, throwing his hands up. “I was grabbing some water, and her mail fell, and there was this number—I didn’t think! I just… acted.” He groaned, his head falling back as he stared at the sky. “I didn’t mean to put two and two together, but what was I supposed to do? You’re the one who made me go digging in the first place!”

“You really think that’s what’s going on?” Rafe asked finally, his voice quieter.

“You said she’s acting weird, and then there was that number, and…” He trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. 

“Do you even understand what this means? If she’s—if there’s a—” He broke off, “I’d have to—Jesus Christ, what would I even do? I’m not—God.”

His hands gripped the edge of the truck bed so hard his knuckles turned white, the veins in his arms standing out as he glared at the ground like it had personally offended him.

“If she didn’t tell me—” His voice was low, quiet in a way that made Topper wince because he knew what came next.

“Maybe just... ask her?”

 “Ask her?” he repeated, his voice disbelieving.

“Yeah, you know,” Topper said, gesturing vaguely. “Talk to her? Maybe find out what’s going on instead of losing your shit over worst-case scenarios?”

Rafe shook his head, “No. If she wanted me to know, she’d tell me. She’s... she’s dealing with her own stuff. It’s not my place to push.”

 “Since when do you not push?”

“Since now,” Rafe snapped, though even he didn’t sound convinced.

“Rafe—”

“No, seriously,” Rafe interrupted, his voice rising now, the tight restraint unraveling with every word. “If she’s—if she’s going through this, if she’s pregnant, and she didn’t tell me?” He let out a bitter chuckle, “What the fuck does that say? About me.”

Topper opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed it again. This felt like a minefield, and if anyone was good at stepping on the wrong spot, it was him.

Rafe pushed off the truck, he couldn’t physically stay still. His eyes were burning as he raked a hand through his buzzed hair.

“I was—fuck. She thinks what? That I wouldn’t show up for this. She didn’t tell me because she doesn’t think I deserve to know.”

“That’s not true,” Topper said quickly, stepping closer, but Rafe’s empty laugh stopped him.

“Isn’t it?” Rafe’s voice was hollow now, all the fire drained out of him, turning his head slightly, just enough for Topper to see his throat working as he swallowed hard. “What the hell have I ever done to make her think I’d be there? That I’d—” He broke off. “Shit. I wouldn’t blame her. I can't even fucking blame her.”

“You still care about her, right?” Topper pressed, knowing he didn’t have to ask to know the answer.

Rafe’s head snapped up, “She’s the only thing I’ve ever cared about.”

He nodded slowly, “Then prove it.”

The envelope sat exactly where you’d left it, the faintest corner of folded. You froze for a second, your pulse quickening.

No. No way.

It was fine. Fine.

The number wasn’t even labeled—just digits scrawled hastily, you hadn’t touched it in days. Still, you couldn’t stop the tiny seed of panic attaching itself to your chest. There was absolutely no way Topper could’ve seen it, let alone put two and two together.

You exhaled slowly, placing it back on the counter.

He didn’t see it. He couldn’t have seen it.

Then why had he acted so… off? The pale face, the sudden excuse, the jittery energy—it was all so unlike him.

You shook your head, trying to push the thought away, a million things could’ve set him off. 

Maybe Ruthie had texted him something awful, or maybe he’d remembered he had to pick up his dry cleaning before the shop closed. Knowing Topper, it was probably something stupid and unrelated to you entirely.

Still, the nagging lingered as you cleaned up the counter and threw away the napkins. You glanced at the envelope one last time, then slid it into a drawer and shut it firmly. Whatever was going on with your cousin, it couldn’t have anything to do with that. It was impossible. And yet…

You sighed, rubbing your temples. 

“Pregnancy brain,” you muttered to yourself. “Making me paranoid over nothing.”

Of course that didn’t stop your heart from jumping every time the drawer creaked, or when you saw anything even remotely similar to that envelope’s color lying around the house for the entire night. Not that he’d ask, of course—Topper wasn’t the confrontational type, especially not with you. But he noticed things. And when he noticed, he worried.

The next morning you sank onto the couch, hugging a pillow to your chest. Topper was close, but he wasn’t like Sarah. She had been able to look you in the eye and say, You know I’m here, right? and mean it without any strings attached. Topper, though…

Your fingers itched toward your phone, even though it was stupid to call her so early over this. Still, you needed someone to remind you that you weren’t losing it, that Topper’s weirdness had nothing to do with anything serious.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you found Sarah’s number, pressing the call button. She picked up on the second ring, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You could picture her, sitting in her car or probably stretched out somewhere in Poguelandia with her feet propped up on a table, looking concerned.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just…” You trailed off, fiddling with the edge of a pillow. 

“Topper’s been acting strange. And I think I’m just overthinking it, but it’s making me crazy.”

She made a sound between a hum and a laugh. “So the Topper panic spiral. That’s what we’re dealing with?”

“Basically,” you muttered, trying to keep your tone light. “But this time… He was here last night, and I thought he saw this random piece of paper I had with, you know. A number on it.” You took a shaky breath, embarrassed for how paranoid you sounded. “But he couldn’t have, right? I mean, it was buried under five other things.”

“Okay,” Sarah said slowly, clearly choosing her words. “First, let’s just say that if he did see anything, which he probably didn’t, he wouldn’t assume the worst. He’s your cousin; he knows you don’t tell him everything, and he respects that. Right?”

“Yeah… I guess.” You chewed your lip, feeling a little stupid for even calling her.  “But what if he does put it together, Sarah? I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

“He won’t,” she reassured, like she could see right through your anxiety. “And you don’t need to feel bad for wanting to keep this private. You’re allowed to handle it however you need to. You’re not doing anything wrong.”

You exhaled, the knot in your chest loosening a little. She always knew how to talk you down, "Okay,” you murmured, and a shaky laugh slipped out. “Maybe I'm being paranoid.”

“Pregnancy brain,” she teased, and you couldn’t help but smile.

You hung up feeling marginally better.

Sarah had a way of calming you down, but the uneasiness stayed with you, the way it always did when you couldn’t fully explain something.

But the relief was fleeting, by lunchtime, the nagging voice in your head was back. Topper wasn’t malicious, but he did have a habit of talking without thinking, and the last thing you needed was for this to get out before you were ready. Not only was this a huge scandal, but it was your business.

You busied yourself with small tasks—folding laundry, wiping down the counters, pretending that everything was fine. It wasn’t until almost noon that your phone rang. The hospital’s number flashed on the screen, and your stomach dropped.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Miss Thornton?” the voice on the other end asked politely, too polite for comfort.

“This is she."

“This is Linda from the hospital. I’m calling about your recent bloodwork. We had a bit of an issue with our system, and unfortunately, there was a delay in getting back to you. We also lost some patient information temporarily—”

“Wait, what?” you interrupted, not liking where this was going, “What do you mean you lost information?”

“Oh, nothing to worry about,” Linda said quickly, as if that would make you feel better. “We managed to recover most of it, but in the meantime, we had to rely on emergency contact information to reach out. Dr. Harris called yours last night.”

Your breath caught. “Called... my emergency contact?”

“Yes.”

“Sarah Cameron? She didn’t tell me someone called.”

“She’s not listed as your emergency contact in our system, Rafe Cameron is. It might be an older record?”

Fuck.

Your heart was in your throat. “What... what did he tell him?”

“He only left a generic message asking for you to follow up about your bloodwork. Nothing specific.”

“Nothing specific,” you repeated, more to yourself than to her. Relief and panic warred within you. If Rafe knew, he’d already be there, the night before, demanding answers. Right?

“We need you to come back in. It’s possible you may have an infection, and we need to run a few more tests.”

You didn’t even hear the rest of her explanation.

Your fingers felt numb as you mumbled something that vaguely resembled agreement and hung up.

Infection, that was what she’d said. That was all it was. Not… not anything else. If it were anything else, they wouldn’t have just called—they’d have told Rafe.

“Stop,” you muttered aloud, shaking your head. “Stop spiraling.”

But your brain wouldn’t listen.

“Generic message,” Linda had said, but did it sound generic? What did he think when he got it? Had he laughed it off, or was he running his stupid pristine bedroom, piecing together clues you hadn’t even realized you’d left?

You didn’t want to text Sarah again.

You could imagine her smirking, “I told you, he’s not going to magically grow psychic overnight.” Yeah, sure, but this was Rafe.

He didn’t need magic. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on Sarah’s voice in your head. “You’re not doing anything wrong.”

Except it didn’t feel like that. You hadn’t thought about Rafe as your emergency contact in months, hadn’t needed to. 

You sank into the couch, hugging your knees to your chest.

“This is so stupid,” you muttered, but your voice didn’t make it feel any less real. You weren’t even sure what you were spiraling over anymore. The envelope? The hospital? The baby?

“Okay,” you said out loud. “Okay, it’s fine. Everything’s fine.”

The sound of your voice didn’t even convince you. Your brain wouldn’t stop jumping from one thing to the next, spinning every scenario you didn’t want to think about. 

What if he did know? If that was enough to set him off, to make him call someone, pull some strings...Shit, what if he did show up, and you had to explain why you were dodging everyone and keeping things from him and—stop. 

Stop. 

You were doing it again. The spiraling. The pregnancy brain Sarah teased you about like it was some sort of cute quirk, but wasn’t cute.

You sat up straight, squeezing the couch pillow so hard you thought it might burst. Breathe. Just breathe, you’d made it this far without imploding.

You glanced toward the drawer again, the one with the envelope. You should’ve burned it, shredded it first. No, you had to keep it—just in case. But just in case of what? Just in case you needed more reasons to feel like a lunatic.

Oh my god. What if Topper saw the stupid number, and then Rafe got the hospital call, and then—bam—suddenly, they had the whole damn thing figured out?

You could feel it already—the panic. You liked to think they were both too stupid for their own good, but they were also observant. Rafe, that bastard always knew how to put things together faster than anyone. 

What if—what if it’s that simple for them? What if they both saw it, and then they were just sitting there, having some stupid-ass conversation, connecting dots you didn’t even realize were dots?

No. Stop. Stop thinking like that.

You were getting carried away, jumping to conclusions like some manic soap opera character. You weren’t that girl. Not really. But the thought of them talking—Topper with his concern and Rafe with his overbearing intensity.

Your fingers tapped a frantic rhythm against the pillow. The idea of him figuring it out? Oh, that made your skin crawl. Not because he’d be cruel—no, that wasn’t his style. He’d just be so… himself.

Overwhelming, determined to “fix” things for you, even when you didn’t ask for it. 

You groaned, dropping the pillow and standing abruptly, like the movement might kill the growing dread. No, you told yourself firmly.

You weren’t spiraling over things that hadn’t even happened yet.

But the voice in your head, the one that always sounded a little too much like Rafe, had other plans: What if it’s already too late?

You paced the living room, arms crossed tightly over your chest. This was ridiculous, you were ridiculous. Nothing had happened, nothing was going to happen. The number wasn’t even that suspicious, it could’ve been anything.

You groaned again, flopping onto the couch like the dramatic mess you were currently embodying. Rafe had probably gotten the hospital call, rolled his eyes without a second thought, too busy with his new precious life.

Your stomach churned, and you pressed your hands against it instinctively. It wasn’t showing yet—thank god—but you couldn’t help the way your mind spiraled back to it, to all the ways this could go wrong.

You grabbed your car keys without thinking, maybe it would clear your head. A drive—that’s what you needed. Get out of the house, and put some distance between you and the stupid envelope, the phone calls, all of it. You turned the knob, yanked the door open—

—and froze.

Rafe’s hand was raised mid-air, clearly about to knock. You didn’t even try to hide the way your breath hitched. 

Oh, no. No, no, no.

Standing there on the porch like he hadn’t just derailed your entire plan. As if it was still perfectly normal for him to show up unannounced, one hand shoved into his pocket and the other gripping his phone, his head tilted in a maddeningly familiar way.

His hand hovered uncertainly on the doorframe as you stepped back, your arms folding protectively over your chest. He didn’t push past you, didn’t move his weight forward—just stood there.

He glanced down at the spare key still in his hand, turning it over like he was considering whether he even had the right to use it. “They called me last night.”

Okay, he was just here because of the hospital, a coincidence, that’s all it was.

“And? You could’ve ignored it.”

His hand flexed at his side like he didn’t know what to do with it. “I thought something might be wrong.”

“It’s not.” Your voice was clipped, cold. “They called the wrong number. End of story.”

He didn’t rise to the bait.

“I thought—” He cut himself off, exhaling sharply. “I thought you were sick.”

“Like I said, it was a mix-up.”

His jaw ticked. That tiny muscle in his cheek twitched, the one that always flared when he was suspicious.

“Funny, they didn’t sound mixed up when they said your name,” he drawled, his tone probing. “Wanna try again?”

“Mind your fucking business,” Your voice was defensive, and you hated the crackle of guilt in your chest when he flinched. “I don’t need you to pretend to care. Why are you even here?” you snapped, taking a step back. The space between you felt vulnerable. “Don’t you have someone else to worry about?"

You felt cornered with every second he stood there.

“We need to talk.”

Maybe if you acted calm, like nothing was wrong, he’d stop looking at you like that. Vulnerability wasn’t something you were good at, he’d already taken too much. He always took too much.

“I don’t owe you shit. Not explanations, not answers, nothing. Leave.”

He didn’t. Of course, he didn’t.

Rafe didn’t know how to let shit go, not when it came to you, he didn’t back away.

“You’re right,” he said, surprising you. “You don’t, but I’m not leaving until we talk.”

The way he said, it wasn’t even a threat. It was worse than that. It was calm, resolute, like he’d already decided, and nothing you said or did could change it. 

That scared you more than anything.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you hissed, “Whatever you think you know, you don’t.”

He arched an eyebrow, his eyes flicking to the edge of the couch where your phone still sat, “You sure about that?”

“God, you’re always like this. Always overstepping, always assuming—”

“I know."

All the noise in your head—your spiraling thoughts, your excuses, your endless denials—went silent, except for the way your heart thudded in your chest, so fast, it hurt. He hadn’t raised his voice, but those two words hit you like a kick to your chest.

No, he couldn’t—he didn’t, he was bluffing, he had to be. Air caught in your throat, and for a moment, you thought you might choke on it. He didn’t move, didn’t repeat himself. He couldn’t know.

Your tongue went dry. 

“What are you talking about?” You couldn’t breathe. It felt like someone was squeezing your chest. You shook your head again, more violently this time, stepping back, “You don’t know shit.”

“I think I do.” His voice was quiet, and that made it worse, it wasn’t cold or angry; it wasn’t even accusing. He didn’t sound like he wanted to be right, he just sounded tired.

You prayed to come up with something—anything—to deflect, to deny, to keep the truth buried where it belonged. 

“You’re delusional,” you took another step back, putting more space between you and the man who had always known you too well.

He just shook his head, “You don’t have to lie to me, you’re scared, you’re not even trying to hide it.”

It was the way he stared with those stupid blue eyes, he was peeling back your layers. He always did that, made you feel like he could see something in you that you weren’t ready to acknowledge.

“Oh, fuck off.” You threw your hands up. “You don’t know shit about what I’m feeling. You’ve got no right to—I’m not lying.”

It still hurt how much you missed him, hurt to even look at him.

“Don’t pull this cryptic bullshit with me, if you’ve got something to say, say it.”

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

The thing you’d been running from, denying, hiding, you simply stared at him, trying to decide if there was any way to lie your way out of this.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You tried to laugh, but it came out strangled, desperate. “T-That’s insane. You’ve lost your mind.”

Rafe wasn’t gloating or triumphant—he just looked… resigned, he’d pieced it together before he showed up.

“Don’t do that. Don’t lie to me, not about this.”

You wanted to scream, to shove him, to do anything that would make him stop looking at you like he cared. Like he knew you. Because if you stopped long enough to think about it, you knew it was over.

He’d already seen it.

“I mean it, Rafe.” Your hand tightened on the door, nails digging into the wood. “Get the fuck out of my house.”

God, this was so fucked. You wanted him gone, but wanted him here, needed him to leave you alone, but at the same time, you hated that he could just leave.

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

You thought about what he’d do if he knew—really knew. Not just the vague sense he had now, but the details. Would he try to stop you? 

Your lip quivered, and you hated yourself for it. “You’re wrong.”

You stared at him, at the way his shoulders hunched slightly, his usual confidence worn down. You hated him for being calm for once in his fucking life, for being here, for not letting this slide when it was none of his fucking business.

“Am I?”

Your hands clenched tighter, nails biting into your palms. “Why? Why do you even care? It’s not like you—”

“Because it’s mine.”

Your breath hitched again, and this time, you couldn’t hide it. You wanted to deny it, to throw something—hell, anything—back at him to make him shut the fuck up. But your throat felt like it had shut off entirely, and your mind had gone blank.

“I—” you stammered, shaking your head violently, “No. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re—”

“Hey, hey, just—just stop,” he said, his voice careful, as if he was trying not to spook you. “I’m not—Jesus, I’m not here to fight with you, okay? I’m not here to make this harder.”

Your chest heaved, a bitter laugh escaping before you could stop it. He was too late—late to care, late to help, late to fix anything. Five days, that’s all you had to get through.

Five days until you didn’t have to think about it anymore. 

This is the right choice, you told yourself for the hundredth time. You couldn’t bring a baby into this mess.

“You’re doing a hell of a job at that.”

“I just want to help. If you let me—”

“No,” you interrupted, grabbing the edge of the door. “I’m fixing it.”

“Fixing—?” Rafe’s brow furrowed, his confusion almost comical He started to step forward, but you stopped him with a resentful glare that made him stop. “What does that even mean?”

“It means you can take your fake concern and shove it up your ass.”

His brow furrowed. “It’s not fake—” His face twisted in confusion, mouth opening like he was about to argue, but you didn’t give him the chance, slamming the door in his face, so hard the frame rattled.

“Of course. Of course, it’s mine,” you muttered to yourself, mocking his stupid, self-righteous tone.

You leaned back against the door, sliding to the floor, arms crossed over your knees as your brain whirred like it was trying to kill you.

It wasn’t like you had a choice.

Technically, you did, but what were you supposed to do? Keep it and become a tragic sob story? The words almost felt like you’d ripped them out of someone else’s mouth, right or wrong didn’t even matter anymore. There wasn’t space in your life for this—for him, for a baby, for any of it.

A muffled knock sounded from the front door—tentative, like he was giving you a moment.

“Go away,” you yelled, your voice hoarse.

“Open the door.”

Your thoughts taunted you with memories and possibilities you didn’t want to entertain. The way Rafe had looked at you—like he knew—it was unbearable.

How had he put it together? Maybe you'd slip up in tiny ways, leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for him to follow. You hated yourself for being so careless, despised him even more for being so fucking relentless.

You wiped your cheeks roughly, not realizing you’d started crying until your sleeve came back damp.

“Please, just open the door. We can talk—just talk, okay?

“No,” you muttered to the empty room. “No, I’m not doing this.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, leaning your head back against the door and pressing your hands over your ears to block him out. 

“Don’t shut me out like this,” he begged. “I can’t—fuck, I can’t stand it when you do this. Just open the door. Five minutes, that’s all I’m asking.”

He had a key. If he wanted to, he could let himself in at any moment, but he didn’t, that wasn’t the Rafe you were used to.

Before, he'd have barged right in, shouted until your ears bled, and demanded answers. He would’ve tried to fix it or destroy it, maybe both. 

You hated that he still acted like he cared, that he was trying to be so fucking reasonable now, when just a few months ago, he would’ve lost it, broken through any barrier to get what he wanted.

This was worse, this Rafe was wearing you down.

Another hushed plea made it through the door, but all you could think was how thin the wood felt, how it barely drowned the sound of his voice. A new door might be better, something heavier, more solid, that could drown out everything—the desperation, the crack in his voice.

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, and you bit hard on the inside of your cheek to keep them from falling. 

“I know you’re scared,” he continued, “And I know you think I’ll screw this up—God knows I probably will. But please don’t keep me in the dark. Just tell me what’s going on.”

You pictured flipping through hardware store catalogs, weighing your options: oak? steel? soundproofing foam?

“Please,” Rafe whispered, and the rawness in his voice scraped against you like nails on a chalkboard. You tilted your head back against the door, willing yourself not to cry again. 

Steel doors don’t warp as easily as wood.

You swallowed hard, your body aching as you fought the sob threatening to escape. He didn’t deserve this—didn’t deserve to sound so wrecked over you. He'd done this to himself.

Your fingers twitched against the door handle, the temptation to open it curling around you, but instead, you thought about bolts.

Deadbolts, a second lock could work, something he couldn’t get through even if he had the key.

His voice wavered again, you thought he might start crying, too, yet all you did was glance at the base of the door. A better seal would muffle the noise more. Maybe weatherstripping? That could help.

You pressed your hands tighter over your ears, as though it would help. It didn’t. Nothing would—not until you replaced the lock, the door, the memory of him standing there and breaking himself open for you.

God, you really needed a new door—and a new heart.

One that didn’t twist at the sound of his voice, that didn’t flinch every time he called your name like it was a prayer. A heart that didn’t feel for him, you told yourself, over and over, like a mantra. If you could just stop the way your chest tightened at his pleas, stop the ache in your ribs when he said he couldn’t let this go.

You wanted steel walls, that could keep everything out—his voice, his touch, the memories of all the good parts of him that had kept you hanging on for so long. Because of this heart? It was useless, too soft, too easily swayed, still willing to believe him, even when you knew better.

“Please, just talk to me,” Rafe begged. You bit your lip hard enough to taste blood.

You couldn’t help but wonder if this calmness came from Sofia.

Perhaps she was the reason he’d changed, maybe she had somehow made him different, had softened the sharp edges of the guy you used to know. She was calm, collected—nothing like you. It hurt like a bitch, the thought that someone else could make him this patient. You wondered if she’d taught him how to handle his emotions, how to be this way—he’d learned some secret he never bothered to share with you.

You couldn't let yourself go there, couldn't let the bitterness of that thought settle in your mind for too long.

“Talk to me.”

No. Not this time.

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige

@rafebb @rafesbby @whytheylosttheirminds

@zyafics @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron

@serrendiipty @sunny1616 @yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog

@psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2

@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt

[jayparked]

hii!! congrats on 1k! ^^ can i perhaps get 47 + 75 with jungwon? <33

"jungwon, please! it's too much!" you cry out, tears staining your cheeks while your boyfriend relentlessly pounds into your pussy. he has you sitting on top of the bathroom sink in some random person's house, the music from the party downstairs vibrating the walls around you. it's the one thing you try to focus on in order to hang onto your sanity. jungwon has already made you come twice now and he's showing no signs of stopping anytime soon.

he watches the spot where your bodies connect carefully, lips parted slightly as he pants with each hardened thrust. his tongue pokes out to swipe along his bottom lip before he looks into your eyes, his own cloudy with determination.

"not stopping," his words come out ragged as he continues to put everything he has into each thrust, "someone else thinks they can fuck you better? im gonna make you come so many times on my cock that you'll never doubt that i'm the only one who can do this to you. only i get to ruin you like this, you hear me?"

"wh-? what are you talking about?" your eyelids are fluttering now and you're desperate to ignore the way your bruised walls clench around him.

"heard some guy talking about you, eye fucking the hell out of you too. said he could probably make you come in less than five minutes," jungwon scoffs, "well i made you come in one minute. and i bet i can do it faster if we were at home." a darkness flicks across his iris's and suddenly he's gripping you even tighter, moving your legs higher up on his waist.

"i want you to scream my name," growling, jungwon grabs your hips and pulls your body in pace to his thrusts, each one harder than the last and it's a miracle you can even understand what he's saying with the way you're so fucked out.

"th-there are people outside this door. you want everyone to know we're having sex?"

"well, this isn't about them now is it?" he grows more aggressively, lips now attached to your collarbone, nipping and sucking on your flesh until pretty little red marks appear.

you try to hold on, you really do. but jungwon lifts you off the counter and holds you against his body, using his upper body strength to bounce you on his cock while he leans against the bathroom wall. the squelching is getting louder as your ability to hang on dissipates.

"fuck! yes! jungwon right there! oh my god jungwon please!" you dig your nails into his shoulders and flex your leg muscles around his waist, his pace still not letting up.

you were doing just fine until suddenly, jungwon's voice drops to a lower register, his tone even and demanding, "that's it baby. tell everyone i'm the only one who can ever make you feel this good."

suddenly, without any warning, you're releasing on his cock once again, his name leaving your lips with a scream that rips through the house right as the music goes silent between changing songs.

for part of my 1k follower celebration send me a member and a number from this list and i'll write a short drabble about it ♡ masterlist

[thetadispatcher]

Dan merely raised his eyebrows at the other android expectantly, he knew he was just getting upset that anyone had dared to get near Vincent well he was working. Although he wasn't about to call him out on it, he knew it was a waste of time as the other really didn't want to admit he cared about Vincent.

Strasky glanced at Brent then Rook and Willow, he felt they knew something he didn't about why Brent looked so different from every other android he'd seen so far. But he'd refrain from asking for the time being as Willow had hinted Brent might not appreciate his odd appearance being brought up. "I guess I can be a bit abnormal at time..." He replied with a slight shrug, it seemed they would really have to ask his counterpart why he felt the need to modify Dan so drastically.

Vincent glanced at the android Bishop as he started helping him, he gave the other a small smile well he made a quiet, appreciative hum to let him know that he was thankful for the help. His LED finally turned blue as he a bit safer despite the strangers standing in the same room as him, but he was still a bit on edge which was evident by him reaching up to fiddle with his damaged ear.

Dan turned his head to give Bishop a cold, calculating look before one of his hands shot up to grab the man's neck directly under his jaw. He tightened his grasp just enough to make the threat clear, but not to the point he'd do any real damage, only some discomfort as he forced Bishop to meet his eyes. "Do not back talk me." He said in a stern tone before let go, feeling he'd made it clear he wasn't to be tested.

Brent still didn't understand why some androids, and even humans, felt the need to purposely upset Dan as so far he'd never seen one actually win against him.

"Uh, of course, follow me." Brent nodded as he turned, leading them down to the basement. He calmly walked by the former cells Zlatko had kept his experiments in which now housed spare parts and tool for the androids they repaired. He entered the room that they used to work on androids in, it was full of all the necessary equipment to do any kind of work they might need. A shelf high up lined the walls of the room, strung from it were LEDs androids had removed as well as an assortment of random objects that had been gifted to them from the junkyard androids they fixed.

A very young man had his back to them, working away on a computer as faint music filled the room. He stopped however as the music was shut off and Dan approached him as he turned around to see what was going on. "Dan!" He said excitedly as he spotted the PL600 standing behind him.

Strasky was still slightly surprised to hear his own voice come from someone else, even if the voice was clearly younger he still recognized it as his own.

The young man got up to wrap his arms around Dan tightly, and Dan gently returned the gesture before the two separated. "We have visitors, Peter." Dan explained as he moved aside to fully reveal Peter to the rest of the room before he started looking through the mess around the computer the human had been working on for something.

Peter smiled at them before he approached, Strasky stayed a bit hidden as he looked over the younger version of himself. They shared most of the same characteristics, but Peter's hair was far longer then Strasky's to the point it covered his ears, and he was also slightly shorter but it was clear from his age he wasn't quite done growing yet. Strasky was most shocked to find only one blue eye looking at them, the other was sunken into the socket and a pure white color.

Dan turned around after he located what he was searching for then grabbed Peter's head by the missing eye, popping the object he held in his hand into the empty space. The prosthetic was clearly a modified android part as it took a moment for it to turn on, but once it was activated it looked exactly like the remaining one and also matched it's movements instead of staying still.

"Oh, thanks Dan." He smiled at the android, who gave him a fond smile in return before he went to sit in one of the other chairs in the room. Peter turned back to the group as Brent took over what he was doing on the computer. "So, what can I do for you?"

The android stared at Bishop, then looked back to Dan with a skeptical look. There was a major difference between the two of them and he was clearly handling the issue in the most appropriate way.

As far as Rook was concerned, she was simply enjoying watching someone else kick Bishop's butt. Her attention however shifted to the new android that had walked in. The guy who lived in that place had really started a collection. "Hey, Willow."

"I know what you're thinking and I believe it'd be rude to say out loud." the cyborg replied, turning back to Strasky, "That might be it. However, I learned not to be too quick on making assumptions with you."

At least it looked like the android Bishop had decided to behave and went off to help picking up Vincent's toys. Watching anything Bishop shaped be so gentle and considerate was strange, but enlightening. Perhaps seeing Bishop get close to the other android was what had made him snap. Not that he could be blamed for it.

Not when Bishop was already replying to Dan's warnings with a defiant grin. "I'd like to see you try."

"Me too."

"Agent Bishop, behave." Willow frowned as both turned to look at her, "I'm talking to the organic one."

"Okay, let's go meet a stranger in the basement." Rook said, dragging Strasky along.

[amomentsescape]

Yay request are back! I loved your yandere slasher sleepwalking one shot so may I request another sleepwalking reader scenario?

But instead of sleep escaping they just roam around like a drunk saying cute things like about how much they love them and silly things like how the strawberries are so obnoxious always saying they're the best fruit while the reader is just sitting in the fridge and random stuff like that?

And the Slasher just finds it aboustly adorble and fondly giggle at their antics while lovingly guiding them to bed?

😴😴😴🤤🤤🤤🥰🥰🥰

Slashers with Funny Sleepwalking! Reader

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, & Bo

A/N: It's been a long time coming. I'm so sorry for the wait on this, and on anyone else's requests still sitting in my inbox. This was a joy to write though, so thank you!

Freddy Krueger

Who needs TV when Freddy has you?

You aren't really able to fully sleep in his world, so he comes to you most nights

He just flops into your still warm spot in bed and watches you stumble around the room

"Freeeedddy! I love you!" you coo over and over

And every time, he replies with a chuckle and an "I love you too"

You giggle and just stumble around some more, bumping into the same wall multiple times

When you finally come back to bed, you just fall right on top of him, not even noticing he's there

Michael Myers

You've woken up a few times in the morning to sore lips

(He duct taped them shut throughout the night)

He's not really home most of the time anyways, so it doesn't really matter

But when he is, the last thing he wants to deal with is you laughing and practically screaming at any object you bump into

He's quite literally locked you in the bedroom some nights so he doesn't have to hear your incessant babbling

"Michael, why is there glue on my cheek?"

He'll just shrug and walk off, tossing a broken glue stick in the trash

In his defense, the glue was nontoxic

Jason Voorhees

He loves to hear your random laughs and nonsensical talk of hysteria

You've grabbed onto his arm multiple times, using all of your strength to pull him outside to go on an "adventure"

"But, Jason! There's strawberry unicorns and feather fields out there!"

He honestly isn't sure if he should be laughing or feeling actively concerned for your wild sense of imagination

He always guides you lovingly back to bed while you have the cutest pout on your lips

"But it's time to explore!"

He just kisses your head and places the blanket back around you

It only takes a few seconds for you to fall peacefully back asleep again

Thomas Hewitt

You're going to make this man go into cardiac arrest

You're sleep talking is adorable, of course

But what isn't adorable is how you think each one of his carving knives is a toy doll

"This one is so pretty! What should we name her?" you asked all giddy

Thomas's smile turns to one of horror as he watches you swing his freshly sharpened butcher's knife around like it was flying

"Weeee!" you squealed happily, only to drop the knife two inches from your foot

Thomas about died

Since then, he makes it a point to lock you both in the bedroom each night

He'll happily indulge in your fantasy like dreams from there

Bubba Sawyer

He literally sets an alarm so he can see what made up conversation you're going to have each night

He'll follow you around, giggling with you about whatever you have to say

"And then I told him to go away cuz why would he say that my favorite fruit isn't his favorite fruit? Who does that? Oh, and then he went and..."

And Bubba just holds your hand and hums along with you as if he's listening

He has no idea what you're talking about most of the time, but hearing your sleepy voice is just so heartwarming, he can't help it

You always wonder why you wake up in the morning sounding like a dying frog

Brahms Heelshire

Oh, Brahms eats it up

You're constantly on a rampage going on and on about how much you love him and how much you need him

And this is exactly what he wants to hear

The moment he feels you stir in the middle of the night, he rolls over and holds you tight, making sure your sleeping actions don't cause you to leave the room

"Is there anything on your mind?" he asks softly

The moment you hear his voice, a big goofy grin spreads across your face

"Oh, Brahms! I love you soooo much. I wish I could just be here with you forever!"

Do you even know what you're saying? Of course not

But Brahms will do everything he can to believe it

Norman Bates

Norman is certainly guilty of staying up too late reading some new novel that has him engrossed

You've almost scared him a few times when he turns to look at you only to be met with your open eyes and droopy smile

"I like the bagels that jam," you say sweetly

Norman just looks at you in a confused smile

"Sure you do, honey"

You just smile and flop your head onto his arm

"Jam jam bagel. Jam jam bagel," you whisper-sing

Norman just chuckles quietly and goes back to his book, letting you continue your random sleepy talk

Billy Loomis

Billy just wakes up with a groan each time

"Babe, please just go to sleep"

"But the caterpillars! They're hiding..." you say, rolling all over the place

He replies with his usual grunt and rolls over, flopping right on top of you

"They're gone now! How did you do that?" you exclaim

He puts his hand over your mouth

"We do this every night," he mumbles into your neck

He's just met with a snore as you've already passed back out

"I don't know how I put up with you," he says with a slight chuckle

Stu Macher

He wakes up to the sound of yelling and fast thumping coming from the living room below

He all but trips on his way downstairs, worried something was wrong

Except he is simply met with you running around in a blanket, yelling about incoherent nonsense

"The snakes! The berries! The fridge!" followed by an immediate laugh

Stu stands there for a bit before finally chasing after you, swooping you up into his arms

"No! They got me! I'll never surrender!" you yell at the top of your lungs

"And I thought I was the loud one," he laughs, carrying your wiggling frame back upstairs to bed

Vincent Sinclair

He wakes up in the middle of the night to a soft voice singing

This would honestly be terrifying in any other context

But since this is almost a nightly occurrence by now, he just responds with a sigh

"Then the fruit tree grows, and the fruit starts to fall, and the-"

Vincent picks you up and tosses you back into bed

"I can fly now!" you yell, kicking your feet

He can't help but smile at your behavior

It might be two in the morning, but seeing you so goofy and free warms Vincent's heart

Just please don't sing so loud anymore, or else Vincent is going to get an earful from Bo the next morning

Bo Sinclair

He can hear you banging around in the kitchen

And he's about to storm out there to complain how it's 3 in the morning, and you shouldn't even be awake right now

But instead, he finds all the food on the floor as you try to wedge yourself inside the fridge

"Lava. There's lava everywhere," you're muttering

"Darlin' what in God's name are you-"

"Bo! You're on fire! Hurry! Hop in!" you yell, trying to make room for him in the cramped fridge

He just lets out a frustrated sigh

"Not tonight, sweetheart."

He quickly picks you and carries you back to the bedroom

"I didn't know you could walk on lava!"

[bondagebimbo]

I’m genuinely about to go square up with some fuckhead ass kids because my mother just informed me that they have not only once, but TWICE cut my youngest sister’s hair without her consent or knowledge.

the first time was in April and they cut like 6 inches off a random spot of her hair.

and yesterday, they cut fucking 14ish inches off because she started wearing her hair in a braid so no one could cut chunks out of it as easily so they just cut the whole fucking braid off.

I’m going to fucking kill them, who the fuck made them think this is an acceptable way to act and fucking treat someone. deadass going to go fight some fucking high schoolers over this, I swear to god.

kids are so fucking fucked up these days, I’m so beyond angry. she’s so fucking upset and distraught and nothing can be done about it. that hair is just gone. I feel so fucking sad and angry just on her behalf. why are kids so fucking cruel, she didn’t deserve that

[bunnithechubs]

Episode 11- Fuel the Flame

We kick off this episode like all others with a group date! Both houses went to an outdoor nightclub and enjoyed a night (and into early morning) of fun! House one was chaotic. EVERYONE wanted time with Penny so poor girl was running around the lot to spend time with each sim. Jasper and Penny ended up getting the enamored sentiment but they argued right after which resulted in them getting the unpredictable romance style. Silas got a bit of snuggle time with Penny but it was short lived due to a random game of who woohoo-ed?! Adriel ended up falling asleep in the hot tub, I guess he figured his spot was pretty solid? House two was even more hectic since Penny, Darius, and Raiden decided to go smoke a little grass. All three of them ended up being high af for the rest of the night. Raiden had a bad reaction and ended up throwing up. Darius sat his ass on the couch and told him to sleep it off- a true bestie. Penny was feeling a bit salty at Darius not responding to her confession so she ignored him and made him jealous by making out with Atlas. Darius had enough of her temper tantrum and pulled her to the side with a surprise gift ;-; Safe to say Penny is no longer mad at him cause she got a designer bag to wipe her tears with. You might be wondering... where the hell was Diego during all of this. Homeboy really said fuck yall this DJ too good and spent the night on the dancefloor ignoring everyone. King shit really. Next post will be the challenge!!

[signedaiko]

begging- BEGGING PLEASSEE!!

for a Bumblee Bee x Decepticon reader who’s short like him but more timid than their comrades. Like they mess up on missions, but they can be snappy too and fast like Bumblebee! I imagine him chasing them in a fun cat and mouse and accidentally takes it like a fun game. all scaring the heck out of them as he catches up with a smile. He would start crushing on them and just says things like it’s a fun idea “you should totally switch sides! Join us!” And the reader is all bewildered but wary.

Bumblebee [Animated]

In which the small bot finds a con just about his size that he wants to spend more time with.

Reader is: Gender Neutral | Cybertronian | Decepticon. Romantic.

Bee has a fair few con encounters now that he is fighting for Earth

Usually they were against the likes of Blitzwing, Lugnut, and the odd Starscream

But you were new; you were something that paled in size but made up for in interest

You were mostly known for your ability to distract; that's right, the cons used you as a lure on purpose

You were small, nimble, decently fast, and as Random had once told you;

"You have the face of an Autobot!"

Autobots thought you were an easy target, easy to manipulate, perhaps less smart

But you were dedicated to the cause, and while you hated being bait and preferred your spot on intelligence collection, you were happy to do whatever Megatron wished of you

Usually, it was fine

But recently, the yellow one had gotten too close, and he was only getting better at catching up to you

Telling the cons you were scared was out of the question, but it was seriously concerning how obsessive it had become

Every time you made yourself visible to the Bots, he was racing towards you with a smile and a hand extended, like he expected you to reach out and accept him just like that

More recently, you were worried he'd actually catch you

Racing down a frozen-over river as thick snow slowly fell from the sky, leafless trees whizzing past your vision as your peds left compacted snow marks behind you

He had special wheels made for snow, but you didn't, and he was fast behind you, yelling some more of his pleas

"Aren't you tired of running? I just wanna talk!"

He sounded so young, certainly near your age, someone you could get along with had it not been for the war

But what if it was only a trick? What if he only played this game for his own amusement?

You'd long since called Blitzwing to help get you, since you couldn't fly, and he was on his way, but visibility was low with all the snow, fog, and your distant location

You had to keep running, but Bee was only a few meters behind by now; you could hear the snow crunching beneath his tires

"C'mon! Join the bots! We can race like this more often on real roads!"

He offered again, but you refused

"You make it sound easy; how about you just join the cons?"

You were just as snappy, though

Just as he got on your heels and transformed, digits inches away from grabbing your arm, you jumped up and grabbed onto the wing of the purple and tan jet that swooped down, dragged away from his reach in seconds

He stopped in his tracks and groaned, but his smile never left

"Next time, then!"

Authors Note - This prompt is so cute!!! It honestly reminds me of a Blitzwing fic I read by @vhaos-chaotic-writing that was him being yandere and kinda doing the same!

[sonknuxadow]

when i watched the one about silver i could hear all 11 sonilver shippers on the planet wailing in agony in the distance

[wetblanket7]

art student!touya headcanons bc why not can you tell that i love artsy people? ᯓᡣ𐭩

tw: smoking and getting high, touya is a loser but we all already know that

──── ᡣ𐭩 ─────────────────

touya had no idea what to do with himself after high school. he chose studying art, because it seemed to be easy lmao he also really wanted to piss of endeavor

after college he wants to be a tattoo artist (who’s surprised?)

touya who’s working at your local record store and always trying to start a conversation with you about the albums you buy. in his head, he has a whole ass plan to make you swoon but, in reality, all he manages to do is asking you, if you like this band and recommending you some new music he thinks you might like

you giggle everytime he stumbles over his words and thank him, assuring you’ll check out his recommendations. and oh boyy he’s whipped. he even started thinking, that maybe you are trying to seduce him

he literally doesn’t know the difference between being simply friendly and flirting. he’s delusional, he’s stupid

(he rejected so many people, that were hitting on him, because he thought they were just being nice to him. but with you, oh that’s a different story)

you and touya met through keigo, who was done with listening touya talk about his pretty customer. you’ll probably never forget his face, when he realized his best friend is also friends with his crush

after that you two started talking more. he’s still so painfully awkward, because this man has no idea, how to talk with you

bold over text, super awkward in person. that’s it

before keigo introduced you to him, touya only annoyed takami with his constant monologue about you. but now? everyone falls his victim. his roommate? shigaraki got too many warnings about way too high volume on his headphones and he still can hear touyas yapping. his family? shouto and natsuo start throwing at touya every object, that just happens to be near them, whenever your name leaves their big brothers lips. fuyumi just asks him when he’s gonna ask you out and he shuts up as fast as he opened his mouth. and his coworkers? spinner daily fights the urge to get high before work but he doesn’t want to get fired, so he’s forced to keep up with touya sober. the only person that enjoys his yapping is toga, which isn’t very surprising, really. she forces touya to listen to her talk about ochako in exchange tho

and don’t even get me started on his drawings. his sketchbook is filled with you. every. single. page. he doodles you every time he gets ahold of something, that can write

“todoroki, for the love of god, could you stop drawing your girlfriend on my desk?” keigo showed you that doodle. at some point he also told you about touyas crush on you. he’ll complain about touyas constantly running mouth, but he’s a noisy bitch as well. a match made in hell

you often bump into touya at random parties keigo or rumi take you to. and everytime, that happens you two decide to leave your friends and go on a side quest. later you need to explain to your friends, why they can’t find you anywhere at the party. you should’ve informed them beforehand but in touyas presence it’s easy to forget about the surrounding you world

especially, when he finally gets comfortable with you. there’s so many topics he wants to discuss with you, he literally can’t shut his mouth. you might never get a chance to kiss him

takes you with him whenever he goes making graffiti. cmon he would do that

touya secretly wishes you would model for him. but he will never admit to that

deep late night talks, while sharing a cig or blunt? god please. all you have to do is text him, that you found this new spot with a cool view and he’s already under your window

he invites you over to listen to the new cd he bought. he collects cds argue with the wall. he’ll be also very offended if you don’t invite him over to listen to the album you bought

don’t worry he’ll get over it quickly, he’ll be very petty about it tho

at first, when you asked him if you could see his art he refused. he’s shy yk. especially, considering the fact, that most of his sketches are of you. touya eventually showed you his art, when you told him about that doodle on keigos desk. he ghosted you for hours after that, because he thought you’ll make fun of him </33

has like 5 different playlists made for you. all consisting different music genres and for different occasions. one is full of songs you recommended him. other is filled with songs, that remind him of you. you guys also share a playlist, which is a mix of your favorite songs and is a total chaos

touya doesn’t have a license nor his own car (duh), so when he asks you if you’re up for a ride it means that you’re going to drive and he’ll just sit there, looking pretty and play music

getting high with touya is… interesting. he gets really clingy and all philosophical. so many what if questions. rumi has a couple of videos of your conversation from the times you two got high at your place. she says she’s going to play them at your wedding

“hear me out on beetlejuice” high off his ass touya, after you came up with an genius idea of watching beetlejuice

touya keeps complaining about you spending more time at the store and distracting him but we all know he doesn’t mind. maybe expect those moments, when you talk shit about him with toga and spinner

you also have a bet, if those two teenagers, that keep having dates at the store will end up together. you think, that the blonde boy has a chance, while touya well… he says that the girl’s to cool for this guy

if you two can’t meet, he’ll just call instead. probably, on some ungodly hour, because his sleeping schedule is nonexistent. will insist on not hanging up, when you want to go to sleep. he promises, that he’ll end up the call, since he’s going to stay up a little bit longer. and he always forgets about that. one time, you got woken up by rei, trying to get touya out of bed

he definitely had planned the first kiss. the thing is — he never had a chance to use his plan. mostly because he was waiting for the perfect moment. you were the one, who kissed him. during one of your many late night rides, while you were sitting in your car in some empty parking lot. he was taking about something, you can’t remember what it was, his eyes shining as he was explaining, streetlamps light falling on his face and making him look even prettier then usual. if it was even possible, because it’s touya we’re talking about, the pretty boy cmon. you almost felt bad about interrupting him. but he didn’t seem to mind, when he practically crushed you between him and your cars door

after that he thanked you, like he didn’t took your breath away a second ago

so many handmade gifts !!!

art museum dates. holding hands, talking about your favorite artists and pieces, standing in front of the artwork and discussing its meaning, touya explaining you different techniques. either that or pointing at the weirdest medieval animals and saying “you”

i said that once and i’ll say it again. he’s your trained photographer

he’ll also gladly turn into your editor

will touch you on purpose if his hands are dirty from painting. annoying bastard

definitely will become your human canvas if you’ll get bored and want to draw on him. touya will try his best not to wash it down during shower. he might even skip shower, who knows

obviously, touya has piercings and tattoos because it’s touya

and yes, he lets you color his tattoos, duh

──── ᡣ𐭩 ─────────────────

no way i finally wrote sth (nobody gives a shit girl)

im working on sth a little bigger i promise

yes i sneaked a little togachako here can you blame me?

and yes thats jirou and denki, they have record store dates

projecting as always im trying to manifest a bf thru this silly posts

or a crush at least

btw touya and keigo definitely made out at some point im just sayin

[sometimesthingsgowrongokayy]

oh golly how do you make these things

jayvik tickle hcs because i can

(sparkle sparkle)

separate and then together, a few swears, one tiny suggestive bit on jayce’s

JAYCE

lee!

ohhh boy. jayce my bbaby. okay. so as a decently muscular man, hes gotta be at least a little ticklish.

i think his worst spots are probably the spots you can just latch onto and squeeze- thighs, ribs, knees, even shoulders.

my boy cannot take a massage. he has tried so hard but every single time he’s just a hiccuping snorty mess

speaking of hiccuping snorty mess. i think he has a lot of different laughs. when you get him really going it’s his usual deep belly laughter, loud and proud and so bright you’re gonna need sunglasses

but also i think if you have him for long enough his laugh changes pitch a lot. like it’ll go from low to super high, and he’s all like “hahahAHAHAHHHSGH OHGOD OH GOD OH GOHOHOD” and oough. bbg

if it’s less intense, he’s not really one to giggle, but he definitely hiccups. he scrunches his face all up and jerks around and flinches and snorts and covers his mouth with the back of his hand and.. ghrhrgh.. im going insane guys

i think he’s the kind of guy who doesn’t squirm too much but arches his back a lot. he doesn’t squirm back and forth, but he’s always folding like a lawn chair, forwards and backwards

with his hiccupy/snorty laughter, he’ll go silent for a few seconds, and his shoulders just bounce as his whole body shakes, face absolutely BURNING red

oh yeah and he’s a blusher. bigtime. he gets a little flustered at the fact he can get plucked apart so easily by something as silly as tickling. he doesn’t think its childish, per se, but certainly not something a grown man should be This weak to.

..and yeah, he likes it. he’s embarrassed about it, but won’t necessarily deny it. he kind of has a thing for going all dumb and happy and brainless. just made into a smiley little puddle of jayce

oh and his smile. i know these hcs are already so freaking long but his smilee he is always grinning. even just a poke and he’s already got a big dumb smile. he is literally the sun when being tickled, it’s absurd

i didnt even get into soft tickles yet what

okay so we all know his abs are sensitive. i think he might just die at some gentle fluttery fingers. same with his sides and back

hear me out. behind the knees. oh and biceps. and the underside of his arms in general. and his forearms. none of them are too bad, but he’ll still squirm a little if you just slowly trace your fingers over them

post-season-2(SPOILERS KINDA??) his wrist his mad sensitive from the crystal embedded in there.

all of his scars are sensitive too. i don’t think he has too many, but the ones he does have are Big and also very ticklish <3

all in all i think he’s very sensitive. he’s the type to be flinching and squirming at things that aren’t even supposed to be ticklish, like god this man cannot take a tummy rub. if someone’s hands are on him in a sensual manner he can’t hold back tiny little giggle-huffs.

whenever anyone’s hands are on his bare skin in any soft manner, he’s. he can’t. he is too ticklish to survive on this earth

okay im gonna stop myself there or im gonna be ranting for seven more paragraphs

ler!

this little shit oh my god

okay no i take that back. i feel like he would be a smug cocky little shit, but not always.

im sorry, i have to say it, engineer hands

i have less ler hcs than i do lee hcs for him but i do think he would be absurdly switchy. he’s the type of guy to just poke people at random whenever he’s bored or to prove a point

has a habit of digging. he’ll find a nice meaty spot and just squeeze it lighting fast for about a second and then give you a teensy little break before doing the exact same thing again

he can be a little merciless though. he doesn’t realize just how good he is at tickling, he just thinks everyone who he tickles is mad sensitive

its hilarious though. he’ll be like “How did I never know you were this ticklish?!” and the lee will be like I DIDN’T KNOW EITHER HOW ARE YOU DOING THIS-

his hands are going all over the place, too. if he has a really handsy/squirmy lee, he’ll just keep switching spots every time they go to defend something. arms glue to their sides? okay, he’ll switch to their knees. legs pull up? okay, neck now. shoulders scrunch? ooh, armpits are fun!

he is such a menace and doesn’t even realize it

he’s crazy playful. mostly back in academy days, but if you can get close enough to him as the man of progress, and he has some free time, he’s so freaking playful its wonderful

he thinks its fun, and he likes seeing people’s stress just melt away. he will get a little worried if you tell him to stop, though, and pulls back a little if you do. he doesn’t wanna hurt you or make you uncomfortable.

definitely pokes people a lot but doesn’t actually engage in full attacks all that often. usually he has to be pretty close friends with someone to do that.

he’s very gentle with viktor when he tickles him, sometimes a little too gentle. it’s agony

VIKTOR

lee!

okay im gonna say it now before the thought leaves my brain. ticklish ears

he’s a lot more keen to light tickles as rougher stuff just kinda hurts a lot of the time or gets him really overwhelmed

tbh if you wanna get him bad, tools are probably best bet. rough tickles with hands are a little too much, but get a feather or a pen or a brush and Hoo boy you’ve killed Viktor.

i don’t actually think he’s all that ticklish. like he is but he isn’t? he’s sensitive but not hypersensitive, i guess.

except for his bad spots. i think its more of a thing where he’s not too ticklish in most places but his bad spots get him writhing.

of course i’m obliged to say neck, ears, jaw, back.. the works. i think his stomach has the potential to be sensitive but he’s a little too skin and bones for it to really impact him.

he has a lot of vaguely unusual spots. his wrists and palms are sensitive, i think his scalp is even a little sensitive. he doesn’t like people playing with his hair for that reason

if not for his brace i’d say his back and spine especially would be real bad. without his brace, just tracing a line all the way up his spine has him jerking forward so hard sometimes he falls over. and absolutely spits out any drink he may be drinking. i mean it feels like stars bursting all the way up his back, okay?? so tingly

he’s the type to hold his stomach when laughing really hard, just in general

he’s also a big snorter, but he uhm.. he has a very maniacal laugh. it’s literally just like- a whole villain laugh. absolutely terrifying.

i think he’s a lot less sensitive than jayce in theory, but in practice he’s a lot less used to it and very squirmy

so squirmy. very slippery. i wouldn’t quite say nimble, because of his leg, but- at the very least very good at escaping.

definitely the type to go straight for his ler’s sides to get them off him. he panics and just squeezes. usually it works but sometimes it doesn’t

i think he has the potential to be a giggler. idk though. he wouldn’t have bubbly giggles as much as he would have really breathy, huffy giggles. silent giggles are another big thing

i think he’s very neutral on the whole concept. he has to be in the right mood and it has to be with someone he trusts with his life.

feather-ticklish bastard. trust me on this

ler!

idk about you guys but viktor talking like he’s documenting an experiment while tickling someone? oughhrgrh.

im usually not one for teases but aaugrgghgrgr.

his hands are absurdly nimble, so while he can commonly be overpowered by his lee, he’s still a slippery bastard and somehow manages to slip into all of someone’s worst spots

i’m kinda stealing this hc from someone else, but i think he is very good at predicting/guessing someone’s weak spots. “HOHOW DID YOU KNOW I-“ “oh, i just guessed. not very hard, you know.” gggggraagg

i really can’t explain just how evil he is. those nimble hands of his are all over someone in seconds, spidering and digging into every single spot and switching at lighting speeds.

very good at tickling people, i think. him and jayce are on a pretty even playing field for that

i have such a distinct idea of what ler!viktor would be but for some reason i just cant explain it with words.

TOGETHER

oh these two. these two. i’m.

they are so switchy it’s scary. tickle fights with these two are not tickle fights, they are strategic tickle wars.

viktor tickles jayce out of stress a lot. jayce is definitely the type to get overwhelmed with stress and not tell anyone, literal king of masking, but ofc viktor sees through it in seconds and wrecks him until he admits what’s wrong. and then viktor wrecks him some more so he can forget about it for a little while

they’re always teasing eachother. on energetic days they’re both so playful with eachother, and they’ll be poking eachother around the lab all day until one of them cracks and launches an attack

they wreck eachother just to prove a point sometimes.

jayce has a habit of getting viktor when he’s being too cocky or sassy. viktor has a habit of getting jayce just because he feels like it.

jayce tickles viktor when he’s bored, he’ll pick up a quill and flutter it against the back of viktor’s neck while he’s ranting about something.

they get revenge a lot, but then they get revenge on the revenge, so it’s kind of.. a cycle

they know eachother’s boundaries like the back of their hands, since they’ve known eachother so long they’re very good at knowing exactly when to stop and exactly what to do

they also pick up on eachother’s lee moods.. and ler moods sometimes. let’s just say jayce knows when to run when viktor gets a certain look in his eyes

aftercare with them is sickeningly soft. brushing hair out of faces, gently caressing skin, massaging eachother to get rid of some of the lingering tingles, all of it. they hold hands and press up next to eachother and ghhgh. even if its in a scenario where they aren’t dating, they still do all of this, and if someone questions it they just shrug. just two bros bein dudes, nothing to see here

i feel like these together hcs are so bad im sorry. it’s so early rn and im suffering Hunger. ill probably make more of these in the future if anyone is interested

feel free to shoot me an ask or two about them as well!!

[spiritsong]

After seeing @felassan's post about there being two different versions of Neve and Taash's cards, I needed to sate my curiosity and went digging to see if I could different versions of the other companions as well.

Lo and behold, there are! I found them for every companion except for Emmrich. There's no way to say with absolute certainty which is the old version and which is the new; hopefully we can get some confirmation on this.

For the time being, I went ahead and marked the differences for those who have trouble spotting this sort of thing. Hopefully it's not too overwhelming for the ones that are very marked up, but I wanted to include some of the more mundane changes as well.

Neve — The biggest changes are the crossed leg (making her prosthetic more visible) as well as the metal rivet detailing on her outfit (see: the collar, the shoulder pads, the sleeves, the skirt portion). Some of what I'm calling the more "mundane" technical changes include the lighting and shadows on her staff, her nose, and her chest.

Taash — The most notable difference here is the coins (I didn't circle all the individual coins but you get the point) and the dragon in the background. In one version, the eye is more distinct, and a bottom row of teeth have been added to the dragon's jaw. There have also been changes made in the shading of her face. Her body shape (namely, the torso and her arms) have also been changed, as well as the general shape of the "spikes" on her hips and her shoulders.

Harding — Just a couple changes here. Her eye is more white/ghostly looking in one version, and the shading on her face and neck have changed.

Lucanis — LOTS of differences. They're pretty inconsequential, by which I mean there hasn't been any added/removed/changed symbolism in his card. The shading on his nose has changed, as well as the shading on his collar, hand, forearm, armpit (didn't circle this one oops), hips, and hip dagger. The purple "wisps" have changed in shape here and there. One of the orbs in the upper left have moved, and there is another orb above that one which has been removed/added.

Davrin — Just a few changes with Davrin, though they are big ones. His face/head has been changed, and the vallaslin has been redrawn. The scar on his eyebrow has also moved slightly.

Bellara — Bellara's head has shifted and her neck elongated/shortened. There are stars in the background and around her arm in one version.

As for Emmrich, I mentioned I could only find one version. I did compare the image we currently have with what I believe is the earliest Emmrich art that was shared with us (a cropped version of his card) by overlaying the two on Photoshop and didn't see any differences.

And that's it! You might have also noticed that some of the versions on the right hand side have a white line at the top of the image. Make of that what you will.

(People viewing this post on PC will have an easier time quickly clicking back and forth between the images to spot the difference. If you're on the mobile app and care enough to do so, you might have an easier time saving the images and flipping through them in your photo album. At least I know it's easier if you have an iPhone, I don't know about other models.)

[foryouwereinmysong]

here today

[hudson-everett]

Hudson leaned back, arms crossed, letting out an exaggerated groan as he rolled his eyes. "Zara, seriously?" he muttered, half-amused, half-annoyed. He had a soft spot for the Sharma family, always feeling welcome and included, but there were certain topics he could do without—especially when it came to her and her teasing ways. He loved her like a little sister, but hearing about her crushes or her flirty banter with some dude? Not his idea of a good time. "Exactly," he muttered, shaking his head. "I don’t want to. You're like a little sister to me, Zara. The last thing I need to hear about is some guy who you like." He was still pretending to be annoyed, but it was a playful kind of annoyance. He knew her well enough by now to know she didn’t mean any harm—though that didn’t stop her from being a pain in the ass sometimes. "Yeah, I know how this game goes," he muttered, but there was a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth despite his reluctance. She was getting better at this whole manipulating him with charm thing. Then she mentioned the guy—Grayson Gutierrez. Hudson froze for a moment. He hadn't expected her to just come out and say it. The name was unfamiliar, but his instincts kicked in. "University guy, huh?" He kept his tone casual, even though the protective streak was already flaring up in him. "Look, Zara, I know you’re all grown-up and stuff, but you’re like my baby sister. And I’m still allowed to worry about you." Hudson scrunched his face in exaggerated disgust, as though the very thought of it was physically painful. "Ugh, gross," he groaned, shaking his head dramatically. "Don’t put that image of you and some random guy you like into my head, Zara. Seriously, I don’t need to picture that." He made a gagging noise for extra effect. Hudson reached up instinctively to adjust his face mask, only to immediately freeze. Hudson grimaced as he fiddled with the mask again, his fingers pressing into the sticky fabric with clear distaste. “Is this what a face mask is supposed to feel like?”

at this point, the sharmas always had a spot saved for hudson at family events. he’d become part of the family, always welcome, always invited to tag along. they even let him sit next to zayn, a place not easily given up. their parents, while sometimes seen as a little too strict by outsiders, were incredibly loving, and the sharma household was usually filled with laughter and teasing. they were lucky to have a family like that, and they didn’t mind sharing it with hudson. “i bet you don’t want to,” zara chuckled, shooting a playful look at her brother. “why would you?but i have to tell you he gets that stupid face that’s honestly hilarious” she teased, a grin tugging at her lips. zara had a knack for annoying zayn when she wanted, and she wasn’t about to let the opportunity pass. she turned her attention back to hudson, laughing as she crossed her arms. “how do you think most people go to university, hudson?” she teased when he asked if she knew anyone with a motorcycle. she knew how much he loved his bike, and honestly, she wouldn’t mind riding one someday. but the thought of studying for a license wasn’t her idea of fun—she’d much rather just ask hudson. she was pretty sure he wouldn’t say no to her. when she caught the way he was looking at her, she bit her lower lip. it was rare for her to feel nervous; she was usually confident and knew how to handle herself. but this… this was different. “right,” she nodded quickly, trying to push past the moment. if anyone found out later, she could get in trouble, but maybe it was better to just tell him now. well, some of it anyway. “his name’s grayson gutierrez,” she said, her voice steady as she filled him in. “he works and studies at my university.” she paused for a second, her tone softening. “he’d never make me do anything i don’t want to do,” she assured him. she knew hudson cared, but she wanted him to know she had it under control. “honestly, i know how to have my way with him. he’s the one who should be worried,” she joked, flashing a playful smirk to lighten the mood.

[ever-ive-been]

man did anyone else see this ad a long time ago? it's so crunchy on my laptop but i saved a clip of it. i haven't seen this ad anywhere else so i thought it was really weird, like an odd sense of deja vu?

i can't really remember what it was fully talking about, was this a plushie or smth? looks cute ig

here's a clip of it i got

me trying to be terribly cryptic aside, i fucking love this so much and am so proud of it! here's a still image of the pixel art and the norman, LOOK AT IT!!! >:D

[randomwriteronline]

Mata Nui refused to sleep.

He had not given a reason for it, in the distinct way one does not give a reason for something they find immensely discomforting, so none had bothered to pry further, and he had never slept.

This was a useful problem. Useful, because he could still rest through meditation whilst remaining aware of his sorroundings, meaning there was always someone to keep an eye out for the many rogue crawlies that infested Bara Magna at night and any Bone Hunter ambushes, so there was no need to take turns keeping awake and vigilant; a problem, because Kiina now had to be wrestled to sleep lest she abused the down time they had to pester the stranger on space and planets and the such, and Mata Nui was more than glad to speak of anything she might have inquired about at length.

That would have also been a useful problem, as his explanations were told in a low gentle monotone that could have lulled a furious Rock Steed into a chittering pup gently kicking and pawing at the sand in its slumber, if the Gaquri would have managed to stop interjecting with far too loud a volume of voice.

As it was, however, all their conversations did was hinder everybody else's attempt at getting some shut-eye.

When Ackar awoke, the night was perfectly silent.

He wondered briefly why in Plude he'd stirred. A sudden flesh-rendering pain jolting through his right shoulder answered him a little too eagerly for his tastes, and he groaned as he kneaded into it with his fingers.

"Ackar?" a half whisper reached him.

He grunted in acknowledgement.

Mata Nui shifted from where he sat to lean over him: "Is something the matter, my friend?"

The Glatorian pushed himself upright with a bit of difficulty: "Nothing, nothing... Give me a second," he muttered, "I shouldn't sleep with it, but - urgh! Alright, alright, hold my elbow a moment, would you?"

He hissed his thanks through gritted teeth as his limb was caught in a gentle grip. His fingers slipped below his armpit and fumbled angrily with the folds of his skin as his grimace twitched with each spark of pain: at last, with a few clunks and exhausted pops, the arm went limp in Mata Nui's hold as it detached from the rest of Ackar's body, leaving the Glatorian to sigh in relief and move his hand closer to the crook of his own neck.

His friend stared at the body part suddenly in his palms with no shortage of surprise.

"It is a prosthesis," he noted, a little awed: "I did not realize that."

"Yes, well - it's not really your fault for that. It's not that easy to tell, and I never mentioned it," the Glatorian replied as he did his best to massage his aching shoulder blade.

The motion attracted the attention of blue eyes: "Are you hurt?"

"Ah... Nothing to be worried about. I should not sleep with it, is all. It decides to start stinging like Plude if I do that too much."

"You have slept with it all these nights, though."

Ackar gave a lopsided smile: "I know, I know - but when you're out here in the desert, it's always better to have two arms at the ready rather than one."

Mata Nui nodded solemnly, with a grave air about him, as though the Glatorian had bestowed great wisdom upon him instead of basic Bara Magnan common sense, and the veteran warrior could not help chuckling a little at him.

The otherworlder took great care to place the fake limb on the sand so that it would not jam its inner mechanisms before turning once more to his friend: "May I help you?"

"With what?"

"Your shoulder."

"It's just inflamed muscles."

"It doesn't seem as though you can reach the spot bothering you very comfortably on your own. I would be glad to lend a hand."

"Oh? You have experience with this?" the Glatorian teased him lightly, but he did slowly begin unfastening his chest armor with careful movements made surprisingly swift by half a lifetime practicing with only one hand.

"I do not," Mata Nui confessed, completely missing any and all implications: "But I do wish to be of help."

"If it would please you, then, be my guest," Ackar smiled. "Though I will say, at the cost of sounding like a frail maiden - take off your gauntlets at least. I'm pretty sure you'd rip my flesh right off of me if it got pinched in your armor."

"I see. That is an unfortunate request."

"Why so?"

"I am physically incapable of removing my armor."

The other just shrugged casually as he pulled off his undershirt: "I can help you with it."

"You are very kind, but I did not mean that it is impractical to fasten or get out of," the otherworlder clarified. He placed a palm on where his clavicle should have been, lightly curling his phalanxes around the edges of the golden yellow metal covering his upper half: "Taking this off would be akin to skinning me."

Ackar responded to the information with a wide eyed stare.

"Ah," he convened finally: "That'd be quite terrible."

"It would indeed, my friend."

"So - hold it, hold it. You've been naked this whole time?"

"I... Would not... Describe myself as such."

"No, no, I mean--" the Glatorian reworded himself as he scooted over, "This whole time, we've been running around fighting for our lives, fending off vicious beasts and Bone Hunters, and you haven't had a single piece of protective gear on you?"

Mata Nui blinked: "I am shielded," he replied.

"I don't mean Click and the whole - thing, that you make him do that turns him into a shield," Ackar said as he settled down with his back to his friend. "I mean something that keeps your soft insides from getting sliced in half at the first swing of a blade, or from getting skewered by the first Thornax launched into the back of your knee."

"I am shielded." the other insisted.

"By what?"

"My carapace."

His fingertips laid on the Tapyri's back, only to retreat in confusion a moment after. Whatever puzzled him was eventually deemed inconsequential, as he returned to study the shoulder blade beneath his fingers in search of any anomalies beneath the skin that could clue him in on where to strike.

"Your what?" Ackar asked.

"My body is naturally armored," he explained without breaking focus: "Much like insects, certain species of reptiles, or likely the Vorox and Zesk from what I could observe of them, I am covered by an exoskeleton meant to protect my organs and sustain my body. It is unclear whether I possess an additional endoskeleton, like you, but I must confess I am not very keen to find out."

"Huh," his friend noted. After a moment, he added: "Because you'd have to be skinned."

"Yes."

"Very fair."

That was quite the load of information.

By all means, this wasn't necessarily the first time they'd heard of carapaced sentient beings - the Fezeri of the Iron tribe had something of the sort, and if you tried searching through their old settlements enough you were bound to find some molts that had survived the passage of time - but they still had bones in them. Like normal people.

And yes, of course, Mata Nui was abnormal under every aspect if you looked at him for longer than two minutes.

But being a huge humanoid bug?

Now that was unexpected.

More than everything else.

Including coming from space. Because even Kiina had imagined that spacepeople would have had bones in them, or at least been aware of having them.

All of a sudden the Glatorian gave a short snorting laugh.

"You're so confusing," he said whistfully, craning his neck back. "By the looks of it one would guess you're just a slightly irregular fellow, and yet you're some sort of alien who's more like Click than any of the rest of us. You're just full of surprises."

"Oh! I suppose that is true," Mata Nui mused.

He sounded somewhat amused by his resemblance to the beetle. Like he hadn't noticed it himself until now.

His fingers slid on what seemed like a slight bump under the oily skin. That must have been the problem, he thought to himself, and without further ado dug his thumb in the spot: against his carapace he almost felt the individual fibers of muscle flatten under the pressure he exercised upon them, the tight knot they were wrapped in struggling not to yield and unfurl.

He didn't quite get the time to focus on that, however, as he was startled out of the tactile sensation by a deep gurgling sound rattling almost right in his audio receptor.

Ackar, for his part, was trembling so much that the flesh folded around the back of his ribs seemed to be trying its hardest to imitate the vibrating tempo of a dragonfly's wings as it raced its peers across the surface of a lake.

"Oh, I think you found it!" he gingerly said before his friend could wonder whether he'd accidentally hurt him - which in a matter of seconds was no longer a concern seeing as the Glatorian all but leaned further into his thumb: "Go on, go on, those bastards are hard to get rid of--"

Another growl reverberated through the otherwise still air, and Mata Nui realized it was coming from directly under his palms.

Ergo, it was coming from Ackar.

He tried digging harder into the skin: the shoulder wiggled around his finger in a very curious way and the gurgling's volume raised a little more, while the trembling returned to rattle through the Tapyri just as hard as it had before.

Sound and tremors repeated in varying intensity as he continued to knead his fingers against the suffering spot, usually accompanied by the body in question trying to recline directly into the pressure much like certain creatures do when gently scratched in specific areas. He deduced these reactions must have been positive ones, meant to communicate a contented or happy disposition - perhaps specific to the Fire tribe? The trembling in particular, with its very visible reverberations all across the being's frame, seemed to require the presence of an amount of skin which was notably higher than what he could glimpse on Gaquri and Lebori alike... Although Ackar was also significantly older than Gresh, Berix and Kiina, and it would not have been wise to rule out the possibilty of age playing an important part in determining the quantity of soft tissue.

Speaking of the skin, though he was very taken with the large splatter-like marks all across his back, there was also something else that was puzzling if not outright concerning him about it.

"You're sweating quite a lot," Mata Nui noted out loud.

Ackar leaned so far into his hand that he almost dropped down right onto the sand.

"Ah - 'sss not sweat," he drawled through the rumbling in his neck: "Don'- don't frrreak out now, ok- 's mucus."

His friend hummed, unbothered: "That explains the consistency."

"Don' worrrrrry about it - 's norrrmal, yesss? We - us Tapyri, we jusss' make it, see... For the, the tem- RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! Sorrrrrry, so'ry... We live near volcanos 'n' open lava pools, so the temp'raturesss would shrrrivel us up..."

"I understand... It keeps you hydrated in otherwise extreme climates."

"Uh-huh... Plus 's easierrr t' wash off the ash like that... Jusss' ssscoop it all off, and the'e, all clean like an oil'd up--" an even more powerful gurgle took over his throat, and he arched his back so much that Mata Nui had to quickly catch him with both hands before he slipped right out of his grip. Now that the Tapyri's face was in view he could note with great interest that his thin teeth were paraded in a wide trembling grin, almost clattering together, and that his eyes were squeezed shut as if he were in great pain - although the effect his expression gave off, even looking at it upside down as the fallen god was, seemed closer to exceptional enjoyment. He watched him mutter a curse under his breath before his voice raised again, slurring in bliss: "A'e you su'e you've nev'r done this beforrre? Y're good!"

"I am afraid I only have theoretical knowledge at my disposal, although in great quantities," his friend replied, a little embarrassed as he laid the other's head down onto his armored legs.

Ackar grinned a little wider as his nape touched down on something pleasantly warm: "Ahhh, booksss, booksss..." he chuckled, wriggling in place, fingers idly pulling the air in uncoordinated motions: "I g'ess they'rrre good f'r sssom'thin', eh?"

His chest jumped with a giddy silent giggle, causing his rumbling to stutter a few times.

Now that he looked at his actual arm better, Mata Nui realized that its back too sported large splatters of different pigmentation. He caught it in his free hand very carefully, turning it over to observe it better while the Glatorian simply allowed him to, maybe not even noticing: their position and shape was not as random as it appeared, but instead seemed to follow an imperfect pattern which mirrored that flanking the man's spine. A quick glance at his prosthesis revealed no such detail on the fake flesh.

Such a curious thing, he mused as he thoughtlessly played with the organic limb - pressing on its palm, lifting it, bending its elbow and wrist to watch the skin crease and muscles tense or relax. He'd seen this sort of appearance on a few creatures along his travels, usually to ward off predators by denoting some sort of poisonous nature... Perhaps the Fire tribe had evolved to secrete a type of venom mixed into their protective layer of mucus in response to threats, or it could have been a strategy of ages past that had managed to survive with each subsequent step they'd taken up their evolutionary ladder for some reason or another.

He'd never had a tongue to test the effects of different poisons personally, and while he might have had one now (though he wasn't sure, since he had not had the time to properly study or think about this body's anatomy much) he was a little uncertain on whether his friend would have appreciated having his fingers shoved in Mata Nui's mouth for the sake of scientific research.

He had come across a few sapient species that considered that a formal greeting, but he would rather not take his chances.

Maybe he could have asked later.

He felt Ackar's shoulders shift and squirm in his lap to get more comfortable, and he returned his attention to him just in time for the Tapyri to open his eyes and meet his gaze in turn.

For a small period of time they simply looked at one another. The otherworlder continued idly moving the other's limb, exercising a gentle pressure upon his palm as he shifted the arm up and down without any rhyme or reason; Ackar himself just let him do as he pleased, only blinking back at him, face stuck in a neutral expression, not making a singular attempt at stopping him.

"Oh," he spoke at last with a nervous laugh: "Well. Hello."

What a strange thing to say. Mata Nui tilted his head slightly: "Hello," he replied in tone.

"I've made myself comfortable, haven't I?"

"If you are referring to your position, I took the liberty to recline you myself in order to keep you from getting injured."

It was unclear if the information reassured the Glatorian or not, as his reaction was to widen his pupils slightly, considerably darken the skin of his nose, and only peep: "Ah."

"You were leaning rather far back. You could have fallen."

"Ah," he repeated. "Thank you, friend."

"It was my pleasure."

Ackar's nose turned a little darker again.

Mata Nui touched it thoughtlessly: its temperature had increased, he mused to himself, so perhaps blood was rushing to that specific spot for one reason or other.

"You might be building a fever," he warned.

"I do not believe I am," the Tapyri replied a little stilted, again with an embarrassed chuckle, "But thanks for worrying."

Concerns soothed, the fallen god dug a digit back in the pained spot and earned another gurgle for his good deed, which reverberated this time across the plates of his legs. He was surprised to find it caused a weird, pleasant sensation akin to a feeling he unfortunately was not sure he had a name for yet.

He returned his attention to his friend: "How is your shoulder feeling?"

Ackar had shut his eyes again, and squirmed in a sort of pleased manner: "Betterrr," he replied, growls now coming from his throat in shorter bursts. He cracked open an eyelid to look at his own arm being maneuvered by Mata Nui's hand as though it were the limb of some sort of machine, losing himself in the feeling of the armored palm and the limp movement of his own joints: "Havin' fun?"

The other followed his gaze, and instantly turned bashful: "Oh - I apologize. I was lost in thought," he whispered sheepishly, placing the limb down on the Glatorian's chest.

His friend cackled: "It's quite fine, it didn't hurt."

Another gargle rumbled through him as the last kink in his muscle was smoothed down.

Mata Nui continued massaging the spot either way, and Ackar continued quietly responding to his kindness with soft purrs; and for a short while, as the desert breathed its tired chill and the winds didn't blow any sand into their eyes or noses or mouths, they simply remained quiet.

Fingertips ran across his arm softly, slowly.

If he concentrated enough he could hear how the barely perceptible sound them scraping the mucus off of one another.

It was terribly comfortable.

Terribly soothing...

A soft monotone stirred him from the torpor he was falling into: "In truth, I was quite taken with your skin's markings."

Without opening his eyes, Ackar turned his head: "Hm?"

"These," his friend explained. He felt him trace an unclear shape on his forearm a few times, gently: "You present an irregular pattern of noticeably different pigmentation both here and on your back. The closest condition I could try to compare it to would be vitiligo, but it does not appear to be anything like it."

The Glatorian hummed softly: "Oh, we just have them... They're common, to us Tapyri. Splatters, spots, dots... Various colors, too..."

"How curious," the otherworlder murmured. He moved from one spot to the other seamlessly, following their borders. "Poisonous creatures often advertise their toxicity to potential predators through similar visual cues."

"Is that so..."

"Perhaps you too have some."

Ackar chuckled as he humored him: "Perhaps I do, who knows!"

"Like a salamander."

"And what is that?"

"It is a term that indicates a family of small amphibians of which many species contain a potent poison within their mucus-covered skin. Their appearance is quite similar to that of lizards, so they are often mistaken for reptiles despite their lack of scales. Land-dwelling turtles often incur into a similar yet opposite misconception, being believed to be amphibians when they are not."

"Hm. And their poison, what does it do?"

"It is deadly in exceptionally small doses and can affect the victim by means of contact with bruised skin, ingestion, inhalation, and injection."

"Oh, I'd like that."

"You would?"

"Yeah, why not? First sand bat to swallow me whole gets a nice surprise, and I take that bastard down with me."

He laughed softly, reclining his head further into Mata Nui's lap.

His yellowish eyes looked up again curved into half moons, meeting the fallen god's own with a lopsided grin: "That'd be a nice little consolation at least, wouldn't you think?"

His friend's glowing irises looked back down at him with a sort of vacuous glimmer.

They were a very nice blue.

The otherworlder's hands were heavily segmented, each articulation encased in a golden shell fitting perfectly against the others. It was really curious how he'd never noticed that until he had his cheeks cradled into one of those palms, weirdly coarse and warm like sand.

Mata Nui looked directly into his eyes: "You are so deeply interesting," he said with such earnest awe.

He sounded so starstruck - he was so starstruck, staring at the Glatorian utterly entranced as though he was marveling at the sight of in the most incredible discovery of this age.

"If the circumstances of our meeting had been different, less wrecked with quests and worries," the fallen god continued, speaking awfully softly as he returned his mellow grip to the Tapyri's hand and began shifting his arm around aimlessly again, to feel the shift of muscle and skin and mucus, "I would have loved to simply watch you live for weeks on end. To take note of your speech patterns, your specific anatomy, how your body moves, how it reacts to stimuli..."

"That," Ackar murmured, breathless: "Is a bit forward - isn't it?"

His friend leaned his head to the side ever so slightly, not blinking.

"At least you should first..."

He choked on his own breath very briefly; he shut his eyes with a little bewildered wheeze and smacked his palm on his face.

Great Beings.

That could have been incredibly awkward.

Mata Nui, who was still holding onto his hand waiting for an elaboration with a fair share of interest on the matter, decided the necessary amount of time for an explanation's request to be polite had passed and curteously encouraged him: "Do continue. I would like to know the proper steps to follow."

But the Glatorian shook his head with a breathy cackle: "Don't- it's nothing, don't think about it. I'm very tired and talking stupid."

"I apologize. I should let you rest, then."

"Oh, no, if you - if you want to talk about something, it's fine."

A surge of warmth radiated from the carapaced fingers wrapped around his hand: "It would not bother you?"

"No, no... You've got a soothing voice really, so it wouldn't... I don't know how long I can listen to you consciously, but if you'd just keep telling me about... Oh, I don't know..."

"Would you like me to continue with the salamanders?"

Oh, he knew that little wiggle that had just shaken his friend's legs. It was the same as Kiina's flapping knees while sitting crosslegged, Gresh's one-handed claps and the weird little laugh Berix sputtered when he saw something he liked way too much.

Mata Nui really wanted to tell him more about those beasties.

Maybe he was excited about the similarities he'd found between them and the Tapyri. Or maybe he just liked talking - he'd always seemed awfully happy rambling to Kiina.

Either way, the little terrors had already gotten in his good graces with their poison, so why not learn more about them?

"I reckon I would," he smiled.

His arm was lifted again, and he could now see the excitement in his friend's eyes: "It would be my pleasure," he assured him. He leaned a little further down, closer to his face: "What would you like for me to start with?"

The Glatorian twisted his mouth for a moment: "To start, to start... The legs, let's go with those. How many do they have?

"They tend to have four limbs, two front and two hind, although certain species completely lack the latter," Mata Nui began without missing a beat: "The number of toes is also variable, but never exceeds four on the front and five on the rear. A rather incredible ability the entire salamander genus can vaunt is that of fully regenerating entire limbs without any trace of scarring."

Ackar hummed, amused, and moved his lone shoulder blade as though its arm was still attached: "That's a real good one, I'll say... Don't quite get the lack of back legs, though."

"Specimens that showcase such a peculiar characteristic tend to be fully aquatic throughout their entire lifetime, so perhaps an additional pair of limbs were considered more superflous to them than they were to other species that maintain an amphibious existence or even turn completely terrestrial upon reaching adulthood - though still favoring damp, cool habitats due to their permeable skin, preferrably near water." the otherworlder explained. Then, as though remembering it suddenly, he added in a slightly humored tone: "Sapient inhabitants of the planet on which I observed these creatures most often associate them to fire, particularly to the ability to resist it unharmed or putting it out entirely. A misconception created by the salamanders' habit of making their nests in rotting logs, from which they would flee when they were placed in the fire, also led to the belief that they were born from flames."

Something else they had in common with Tapyri...

One of their oldest tales, a myth to tell children - they were the spawn of embers, born from ashes still warm of extinguished bonfires, from the glowing rivers trickling down the sides of volcanoes...

Ackar squeezed his eyes hard and forced himself concious. A small sigh escaped him: he was already fighting a losing battle with his eyelids to keep them open, lulled into a thoughtless state by Mata Nui's excited monotone gently and eagerly pouring as much information as he could into his head.

His throat rumbled weakly, its grumbles vibrating against the equally pleased lap wiggling beneath his head - oh, if he could stay awake a little more, just a little more...

"Their diet tends to vary based on their environment and size, but they are known to eat anything the deem large enough," Mata Nui kept going softly, stroking the Glatorian's hand with his thumb: "Among their most common preys are insects such as flies, beetles, cicadellidae, moths, caeliferae and aquatic bugs, arachnids such as mites and spiders, earthworms, hexapods, and various larvae, while larger species may also hunt crabs, small mammals, fish, and other amphibians; in case of particularly scarce resources they might also resort to cannibalizing other salamanders, something that often happens between young specimens. Their jaws have each a row of small teeth capable of bending inward to keep the prey from escaping, sometimes helped by patches of teeth found on their palatine bones and vomer as well to better hold it down - aquatic specimens rely on them to macerate and tear the prey, as their tongues lack muscles and cannot be flicked out to catch food in the way their terrestrial counterparts' can. This is made possible by their ability to secrete a sticky mucus from glands positioned on the roof of their mouth and the tip of the tongue itself..."

And he continued talking for a good couple of hours, droning in the night with his quiet excitement without worrying too much about Ackar's silent snoring adding itself to the sound of Kiina, Gresh and Berix, simply happy to listen to them breathe and live around him and talk, talk, talk about all the marvelous things he'd loved alone until now.

[crow-man9000]

GET SAM AND MAX HEADCANONED (because I have no art to post due to sudden art block 💔💔)

Sam:

- mid-late 20s in Hit The Road, 34 in everything else (sticking with the time travelling Sam and Max theory I made, it's canon in my head)

- trans, aroace spectrum and bi. why? because I said so (also I think Sam considering the name Tyrone before Max suggested Sam is funny)

- has autism, at one point he was EXTREMELY hyperfixated on animals and wanted to work in a pet store, then he discovered 40s detective movies and he was like "OK NEW CAREER PLAN"

- on the topic of autism he mainly verbal stims like his long ass speech patterns he does when he's surprised

- surprisingly really good at drawing, even Sam doesn't know where he learnt it (I think this one was proven to be canon in tdp)

- basically just steals really vital evidence from crime scenes with the excuse of "we might need this later" (they will never need that later)

- Geek made him and Max watch spiderverse, he's now a spider noir and spiderham stan

Max

- late 20s in Hit The Road, 35 in everything else

- gay and aroace spectrum (SAM AND MAX ARE IN A QPR AND NOBODY CAN TELL ME OTHERWISE)

- took woodwork classes in high school

- REALLY likes cowboys. idk why I just feel like he'd like cowboys

- (this is more like my interpretation of alt tdp but whatever) Max basically went through a depressive/psychotic episode during 303, pretending Sam was still alive when he damn well knew he wasn't

- he's also autistic because I'm autistic and I kin him (corn dogs are a comfort food)

- when he has to wear clothes he'll either go all out or dress like Adam Sandler, no in between

- die hard Santa believer, freaked out when he found out Santa was real in 201

- Geek introduced Max to Tomodachi Life, he instantly fell in love with it (he's pissed about the gay couples not being allowed in the game tho, so he got Miitopia so him and Sam could be in a relationship in the game)

thank you for coming to my Ted talk