#yes i mean mister dark and secretive

[onedivinemisfit]

“How many fire emblem crossovers can I make?” Should be the title of my life haha

[merakidoll]

𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝟏 | Sylus and Gojo

synopsis : just two rivals who’s common interest is the ditzy barista

warnings : chubby bimbo reader! reader is implied to have braids ( so what does that mean? ) rivals sylus and gojo! penetration, zoom sex! masterbation ( m ) allusion to gojo getting his bussy plowed but no description! lots of pet names! lowkey a little of subby gojo! this is really more so sylus focused

gojo and sylus who were one another’s rival - but with rivals comes a common thing they both long for, and for the two ceo’s it was the pretty airhead barista who made their dark roast perfectly! the two bright haired men found the sweet thing so .. delicate; that even when she simply mix up a dark roast with a pumpkin spice - neither have the heart to tell her.“is it good mister sylus?” sylus gave a curt nod, lips tight as he took a deep gulp of the warm, very sugary- very cinnamony substance. “just how i like it princess, you’re so good to me” his eyes shimmered as he noticed gojo walk in. him too occupied with a phone call to notice his presence.

“hey baby, how bout you make another one of there for mister gojo. know he’d love it! on me, but shh it’ll be our little secret.” sylus put his long slender finger to his lips in a shush motion. he could have came in his pants the way your big eyes shined; just so eager to please. he slyly moved to a corner watching you hand gojo the cup, his demeanor getting giddy at how you gave him a free coffee. “for me precious?” sylus held in his chuckle watching gojo take a sip, his adam’s apple bobbing as he held in a cough.

“do you like it?” you said hopeful. “it’s my favorite! and mister sylus really enjoyed it too!” at the sound of his name gojo’s eyes immediately shifted to where the other man stood, eyes lowering while he licked his lips looking back at you. “did mister sylus put you up to this sweet thing?”

“n-no ..” you shifted on both feet, biting into your gloss lips nervously. “good girls don’t lie do they precious?” your mouth opened, agape like a fish trying to respond. but luckily sylus stepped in. “comon gojo, leave my girl alone. it’s all a harmless prank” he smirked at his enemy, before walking away leaving you two to stand in silence. it was now a tuesday. both gojo and sylus having a scheduled meeting at 12pm sharpe. the zoom call started quickly, gojo joining only to see the other man already logged on.

there he was, the camera having the perfect view of sylus fucking into you cunt. you moand loudly, the camera in your face, braids wrapped around sylus’s hand as he pounded into you, pelvis meeting your ass. “tell’em baby. tell gojo how daddy’s makin you feel” gojo’s cock pressed hard against his slacks, his jaw clenched that he has lost this. “yes precious tell me. tell me how good it feels being a bad girl.” your eyes opened, low and red, pretty lash damp from how hard your pussy was being pounded. “s-so good n f-feels s’good mister gojooooo!” your small hand moved back trying to push some of the ceo out of you, but he only took hold of it, pushing you more against the desk.

“good ass pussy” sylus threw his head back, stilling himself into your tight cunt as he came stuffing you with his seeds. “s’full” he heard you mumble, spit dripping from your mouth as his cum mixed with yours fell out of your hole, and onto his floor. sylus knew he wasn’t done with you. gojo did too, sylus starting his movements back- but slower. he stared at gojo in the camera as he gave you slow thrust; mushroom tip touching every piece inside of you. “you miss it go?” he titled his head letting go of your hair, and grabbing your neck pushing your back to be against his chest.

“tell me. tell her. tell her how you used to be in this exact position” sylus’s unoccupied hand moved down your body. pinched your nipples, to moving down and rubbing your clit. “it feels good baby?” sylus’s question was for you both. you moaning into his neck with a fuzzy brain, orgasms right there. and to gojo who squeezed his long cock, abs flexing while his balls jerked in his pants. “cum.” on command you and gojo mad a mess in unison. your cream making a ring around sylus who’s cock jerked shooting more of his cum inside of you.

gojo’s got all over his computer, a small smudge being made to his camera lens at how hard he’d just came. he breathed in and out fastly watching sylus whisper sweet nothing into your ears, soft kisses to your cheek as he moved his cock to stuff the cum that came out of you back in. without even glancing at gojo he spoke. “meet us at my house. i missed you too baby boy.” then the zoom was over.

[pepperyduck]

“office secrets” with kento nanami

this is part one of my kinktober event!

word count: 1.5k

warnings: nsfw, roleplaying (boss x employee), unprotected, p in v, finishing inside, sir kink hehe, "mister nanami" is used, established relationship!!!!, a little fluffy :3. (18+ mdni!)

notes: first kinktober fic pls enjoy! mwah. i'm making a separate taglist for these things, so lmk if you want to be added!

kinktober masterlist | masterlist

“mister nanami? are you free?” you squeak, knocking on the door of your boss’s office lightly.

“of course.” he replies, turning around in his leather office chair.

hips deliciously clad in an office skirt, shirt buttoned up just enough for a good eye of cleavage to be seen, you were a sight to see. nanami peeks over his reading glasses set atop his nose, dark eyes lingering on every curve of your figure. you couldn’t deny your attraction to your boss – he was delectable in a sense like no other man you’d met.

mister nanami was commonly fawned over by many of the girls in your office – with his perfect hair, chiseled jawline, and the overall composition of himself. a professional from the start. many of your peers found themselves frustrated with the way he never seemed to crack.

“i um—just came by to give you these,” you state, awkwardly smiling and holding up a manilla folder filled with seemingly important reports.

“ah,” he tuts in return, “going home for the weekend?”

“yes, sir,” you nod slightly, walking over and sitting the folder down on the chestnut desk.

“any plans? boyfriend taking you out?” nanami questions, opening up the reports and skimming through. his focus immediately turned to the papers, as if the question he asked wasn’t out of the blue for him.

“um, no…no, sir,” you make a confused face he doesn’t care to look at, “we broke up last week. sorry. don’t know why i said that.” you blurt and catch yourself. this peaks your boss’s interest, and he looks up at you over his glasses again.

“oh? sorry to hear that, dear.” nanami blankly consoles you, a sweet name rolling off his tongue naturally – though, he hadn’t ever called you that.

a silence you find awkward, and kento finds natural, fills the space between you. honestly, you understand why the girls you worked with always said there was a tension in the air every time he was one on one with them in his office. yet, unbothered as ever, nanami looks back down at the documents now laid across his desk.

“these are good, really good work. you got one calculation wrong though.” he beckons you over to behind his desk, rather than spinning the paper around for you to see.

so, you strut your way over to beside his chair, testing your luck when you decide to bend over and place your palms on his desk, arching your spine ever-so-slightly. positioned in an awkward pose, you try your best to focus your attention on the paper that held nanami’s attention. his words explaining how the wrong percentage was multiplied against … something ... wages … something … income and revenues ... maybe … taxes ...

oh, and his hand running over your waist.

a feathery light touch as he ran over the small of your back, mumbling something about how you just need to do it differently next time, it’s okay. you swallowed as you tried to ignore the contact, to no avail, because your head suspiciously creeped to look at nanami. his gaze caught yours only after long a few long moments, noticing your look of uncertainty. he gives you a comforting smile, only before uttering something awfully unprofessional,

“you want this, yeah?”

a small sentence, yet the meaning behind the four words dirtier than the dishes in your sink. something out of character for the noble man you had for a boss. it all lets you know he notices the lingering stares, the tension in the air every time he looked at you, the sheer longing that cumulated between you and your coworkers. and here you are, the seemingly unachievable task of sleeping with your boss laid out in front of you as if it was a four-course meal.

you eagerly nod your head, and as soon as that motion is completed mister nanami swiftly stands up, effectively locking you in between his huge frame and the wooden desk behind you. your body shuddered at the positioning, caught by surprise when he didn’t waste a second before leaning in to kiss you. he melted against your lips as if he never wanted anything more, a soft passion allowing him to let go.

it all happens so fast,

you throw your arms around his neck, and nanami is instantly splaying you over his desk, messing up all the papers you worked so hard on. you’re pulling up your skirt and taking off your panties while your boss hastily unbuckles his designer belt and unbuttons the slacks that had grown to be too tight around his raging hardened length.

nanami shudders when you – his pretty little office worker – wrap your hand around his stiff cock and lock your legs around his waist to pull him in closer. he leans over you, placing a hand on the desk beside your hair and using the other to cup your face and silence you with another kiss. the whimper you let out when kento finally pushes inside is simply exquisite. he’d pay to hear it again.

your boss groans at the feeling the further he goes, tight, wet walls squeezing around him so pleasurably, not giving him any room to pull back out. he stands up for a moment to compose himself — as well as linger in the image of you sprawled out on his desk, taking all of his inches so well — and he groans again when you rush to clumsily unbutton your shirt, gaining sight of the slutty lacy bra you hid so well under your clothes.

seemingly forbidden, but so damn enticing. mister nanami was sure he was on the way to hell as soon as he took you over his desk. all this was supposed to be wrong, but it all felt too good.

nimble fingers of nanami’s come to untie the printed tie around his neck, making haste to unbutton his own shirt — not bothering to discard the blazer on top — and show you his own torso, you swear he was sculpted by a god or something. your hands run over his chest before pulling him back in by his broad shoulders, locking mouths once more. then, he starts to move, sliding out for a quick second and sheathing himself back inside you, burying his way in your cunt until his pelvis was flush against yours. the whimper you let out is heavenly.

“o-oouuh, kento,”

you whimper his name so naturally, it almost drives him to the point of being feral — but mister nanami is no animal. the way he continues to handle you, though, proves to be on the contrary. his hands grip your waist tightly, securing you to the wood below as he begins a downright brutal pace, pistoning his hips ruthlessly into you.

you feel so good, so tight, the expectation set in his head for you has been ultimately blown out the water…because you just feel divine. nanami takes notice of your walls squeezing even more the second he brings an experienced thumb down to rub at your clit, swiping small circles over the bud.

his plush tip hits so deeply, kissing your cervix with every gyration he makes. with the combination of the sensations your boss is causing you to feel — you can sense your orgasm beginning to build earlier than expected. whimpering and crying his name, you tell mister nanami how good he makes you feel, how close you are; and it only makes him speed up his hips even more.

it’s like he already knows your body like the back of his hand.

“so close, sir—,” uttering that sweet name he adores so much, “can i—can i cum, please.” you beg, and nanami throws his head back at your pleas, all being music to his ears.

“mhmm, cum for me,” he groans in return, dropping his head to make vicious eye contact again. he’s all sweaty, his glasses almost falling off his nose, and in pure ecstasy. hunger sits obvious in his eyes as he looks at you, his intense gaze pushing you over the edge as you gush and cum all around him. without any words, nanami cums alongside you at the same time, grunting and groaning sweet praise as he fills you up to the brim.

after the both of you unravel, kento holds you against him for a while, keeping your body trapped underneath him.

“that really did it for you, huh?” you tease your husband a while later, after he had cleaned you up and took you to bed. you laid next to him as he read a book, shed of his work clothes and in something much comfier. “don’t tell me you’re going to actually start doing that.”

“no, dear,” kento cocks a brow at you, looking over the rims of his reading glasses, “but i did enjoy you playing the part.” he smiles as you lean up to kiss him and roll over turn the lamp on the bedside table off. even as you’re turned over, kento watches your figure, the small movements you make turning into sleeping,

thinking about when he’d get to do that again.

[fandomlit]

academic affair, prologue (remus lupin x reader)

series summary being a professor at hogwarts always brought you an interesting day, but your past starts to reappear in odd ways: in the son of one of your former best friends, a dog you can't stop seeing, and an old crush getting the cursed job the school. it all looks to mean one thing--it's time to stop running from the things you tried hard not to think about.

warning none

a/n if you all are interested in seeing this continue as a series please please let me know!! im loving this concept :)

gif cred belongs to @rxmuz

harry, hermione, and ron were gathered in the empty classroom you were to begin a lesson in after your snack break--a habit they had grown into shortly after meeting you their first year. your feet were propped up on your desk as you ate your salad, watching harry pace and complain about his third-year classes already, despite only being a few days into the term.

"i think they're all riveting so far," hermione spoke bossily, shaking her head at the complaining boys.

"how would you know? you weren't even in potions today!" ron accused. you winked at hermione as her face flushed slightly. you knew her little time turner secret--it was a fate few students endured, but you had been one of the professors to recommend her for the honor when dumbledore inquired.

"i was there! we learned about the benefits of frog liver in healing potions!"

ron and harry looked to each other. "I actually don't know if that's true or not."

you let out a laugh before speaking, "it's just the second week, harry. it'll get better! patience is key."

harry huffed as he flopped into one of the chairs in the front row. "why can't i just take your class already?"

you shrugged. "i'll let you in." his head piped up. "if you can read my leaves from my old cup of tea for me." he sunk back down into the chair as you tutted, "have to know divination to take theory, harry. sad, but true."

he sulked for another moment before admitting, "i do like the new defense against the dark arts professor. lupin seems good."

the other two agreed and began to chat about it as you froze mid-chew.

when you heard remus lupin was taking the dark arts position, a rush of old, buried emotions came flooding back to you. your stupid schoolgirl crush seemed to take up space in your heart once again before you had even seen him again, and you cursed yourself for letting it happen. but remus was one of your best friends in your hogwarts days, and you had always wondered what could have been if you had ever had the guts to pursue something with him..

" .. professor? y/n!"

you snapped back into the moment, swallowing your bite as you gave your attention back to the trio. "sorry. got lost in thought. what's up?"

"did you know lupin when you went to hogwarts?"

your heart jumped unwillingly. "oh--yeah, of course. i don't want to air out his business for him if he hasn't said.. but he was very close to your parents, as well, harry." harry blinked in surprise. "but again, not my place to say without knowing if he wants all that to be said." the trio nodded.

"has he always had those scars?" ron asked, waving to his face. 

you smiled a little. "yes. not those, specifically, but he always had a knack for getting new wounds back in our hogwarts days. never without a scratch."

"sounds like-"

"professor l/n?" all four of you looked to the open door of the classroom to see professor lupin himself standing with one hand on the frame, as if he had been summoned when you began to talk about him. your heart skipped while he swept his gaze to the students, lifting a hand in greeting, "hello harry, miss granger, mister weasley." they greeted him in return before he looked back to you as you swung your feet to the ground a little clumsily. you prayed your face wasn't as hot as it felt. "have you all seen a toad hopping about? had a student say he lost sight of him after charms this morning."

"oh, neville?" you laughed softly and the other three chuckled. lupin nodded. "no, we haven't seen trevor. we'll be sure to inform the owner if he's spotted, however."

lupin gave you a nod. "thanks." he paused for a moment in the doorway, looking like he was going to say something more, before patting the doorframe and moving away. after a moment you cleared your throat, swinging your feet back onto your desk and shuffling your fork through your salad.

"so, what were we saying before all that? something about divination?"

"you totally fancy professor lupin!" hermione scoffed. it was the first time you had seen her gaze properly off of her homework all afternoon. and she looked delighted about it, too.

now you knew your face was bright red. "you're loony, hermione. i'm thirty-five years old--i don't 'fancy' people."

"oh, what do you call it then?" harry grinned. "a crush? taking a liking too? or do we skip straight to pining at your age?" he dodged when your shoe came flying at him, but he was laughing the whole way. ron was chortling just as loudly.

"you three have lost it!" you declared, standing unevenly from your desk. "remus and i were good friends back in the day--nothing more, nothing less."

"remus, is it?" harry gawked, making the other two laugh and tease again while you stripped off your other shoe. the warning bell rang just then.

"you've been saved, you have!" you called as they scrambled to get their things together. "teasing a professor like a student--rotten children!"

"and yet, you keep inviting us around!"

[toxic3mmy]

prompt: alex comes home drunk and confesses his love for you

no warnings! just fluff <3

[sorry abt it being so short! just wanted to write a quick drabble]

you were sitting on your bed late on a friday night. it was around 2 am when you suddenly heard a loud crash coming from your living room. you jump up and creep towards the front door with a bat in your hand. your body shook slightly as you walked closer to the door. a dark figure was on the floor laughing. you realized you knew this laugh like no other. it was your idiot roommate alex.

“alex? are you okay?” you ask as you put the bat down and flick on the lights

alex didn’t answer you with his words and instead he responds with uncontrollably loud laughter and at the sound of it, you couldn’t help but smile.

“where have you been, idiot?” you rolled your eyes teasingly as alex finally answered you with coherent sentences

“i was out with the guys… just drinking and stuff ya knowww no biggie”

you steadied his wobbly body as you replied,

“i can tell you’ve been drinking… how much exactly did you drink ‘lex?” you ask a bit worried as alex was falling asleep while standing right in front of you

“i love it when you call me lex *hiccup* it’s so cute y/n/n”

your face began to heat up and you swatted him in his arm playfully as you repeated your question

“how much did you drink?”

“well…. i stopped counting after *hiccup* six? or maybe seven? dunno…”

your eyes widened at his response, realizing that not only was alex piss drunk, but he definitely is going to deal with a terrible hangover the next day.

“okay, c’mon borrachito… let’s get you to bed okay?”

you laugh softly as you carefully lead him up the stairs of your shared home. halfway up the stairs, alex stops in his tracks and looks at you.

“you smell really good… like soooo good”

you roll your eyes again at his drunken words and simply continue to take him to his bedroom. you open the door and lead him into his bed. you bring some water and a few aspirin for him to take when he wakes up and you hear alex mumble something as his eyes were closed.

“hm? what did you say ’lex?”

“i said… can i tell you a secret?”

i laughed at his small almost childish voice and nod before saying,

“yes, im listening”

“but… promise me that you won’t tell y/n, okay? let’s keep it between me and you”

you gulped as you didn’t know how to respond. what if he said something really deep and personal that was meant to be said when he was aware and sober? would he be angry at you? but what if it’s just some dumb secret that isn’t really a secret? it most likely was the latter, given that alex had a history with making jokes at all times no matter if it was inappropriate or not.

“okay… i wont tell y/n”

“PINKY SWEAR!!!” he sleepily held out his pinky and you hooked your pinky to his.

“okay… i really really like y/n… and i think im going to marry her one day, do you think she’ll say yes?”

you froze a bit after hearing what he just said. you continue to tuck him in silently before asking,

“why do you think you’re going to marry her someday?”

“because i love her. she’s my best friend and my other *hiccup* half” alex smiled with his eyes closed

you felt your heartbeat from head to toe. did he really mean this? maybe he was just talking out of his ass, being so drunk and all.

“okay mister romantic, it’s time for you to get some rest ‘kay?” you slowly get up and begin walking towards the door but alex tugged on your sleeve

“stay, please? i wanna cuddle my wife” he mumbled

“okay ‘lex, im here. i’ll stay, but only to make sure you don’t drunkenly choke in your sleep” you chuckle lightly

you take off your shoes and slide into bed next to him. you draped an arm over him and played with his soft hair, watching him smile as he had his eyes shut

“goodnight corazóncito mio” he cooed as he got comfortable and fell asleep rather quickly

“night alex” you whispered

you definitely were having a talk about this with alex tomorrow.

[rhaenyraqueenred]

The Untamed AU: Bridgerton Version.

Mister Whistledown reports:

"Ah, dear readers, it seems the unthinkable may be unfolding in the grand halls of our ton! Marquess Jiang Cheng, the heir to the powerful Yunmeng Jiang Clan, has been spotted in private company with none other than Lady Wen Qing.

Yes, that Lady Wen Qing, who hails from the infamous Wen family, known for their dark history and tainted reputation. Yet, it is said that the fiercely proud Marquess has not only been drawn to her beauty and skill, but also to her fierce independence—traits that mirror his own.

The whispers are growing louder: it is rumored that Marquess Cheng, perhaps out of a misguided sense of honor or love, has gifted Lady Wen a token of his affections—a fine comb, so rare and exquisite that even the Duchess of Lanling Jin, Lady Jiang Yanli, his own sister, was heard to exclaim her surprise. Is it an engagement gift? Or is this simply another one of Jiang Cheng’s many impulsive acts? Only time will tell, but sources close to the Marquess claim he may be considering an escape—a secret elopement to a place where their families’ disapproval would mean nothing.

But alas, the Marquess finds himself caught in a most troublesome dilemma. As the heir to the Jiang Clan, he is bound by duty, honor, and the expectations of his family. How can he continue his bloodline, preserve his family’s legacy, and still hold onto the woman he has come to adore? As for Lady Wen Qing, the ever-graceful healer, she too faces the weight of her own family’s reputation. It seems the road ahead for them will be a difficult one, but what would love be without its trials? Keep your eyes on this couple, dear readers, for the drama is only just beginning, and if rumors are to be believed, they may very well surprise us all!"

(Who is behind Mr. Whistledown. I bet is Huaisang).

[jo3ydr3w]

TLDR: Get rid of the Bendy Wiki mods and get new ones that know the material, because this shit is fucking ridiculous at this point.

Bendy wiki is ONCE AGAIN full of IDIOTS who should be removed from being mods because they have ZERO clue what they're doing.

Image source: Bendy: Secrets of the Machine

It VERY CLEARLY isn't.

The letter gotten is from Joey himself.

Image source: BENDY: SECRETS OF THE MACHINE - FINDING INSANE SECRETS… by Dawko

This means it is set BEFORE Bendy and the Dark Revival as Joey is revealed to have died in that game.

Image source: Bendy And The Dark Revival FULL GAME (No Commentary) by BabyZone

2. Gent is in control of this game.

Image source: Bendy: Secrets of the Machine

It being controlled by Gent proves that it happens BEFORE Bendy and the Dark Revival.

Gent itself shut down in October 1952 as Rose states while talking to Dot in Fade to Black. "He [referring to Evan] left Gent to follow Mister Drew. I wouldn't trust him." "No, he left because they shut down. He was quite miserable about working for Joey." "They shut down? When?" [...] "Last fall, October, I believe."

Fade to Black is stated to take place in January 1953 in the Prologue. "If you were to walk down Broadway in January 1953." 3. The letter saying Riley was hired states working at Joey Drew Studios, and the termination letter states being terminated from Joey Drew Studios.

Image source: BENDY: SECRETS OF THE MACHINE - FINDING INSANE SECRETS… by Dawko

Joey Drew Studios shut down in 1948, as Dot states while talking to Rose in Fade to Black. "Joey Drew has a television show. But they shut down his studio. I know that for a fact." "The animation studio. Yes, that shut down a few years ago." "Yes, 1948 to be percise."

There is ZERO proof that it happens AFTER Bendy and the Dark Revival. All the proof proves it happens BEFORE.

TLDR: Get rid of the Bendy Wiki mods and get new ones that know the material, because this shit is fucking ridiculous at this point.

📷

[stargirlfics]

remember that thot I promised? here it is 🥰

I feel like a position that actually activates the hell out of my size kink would be collapsed doggy. It’s so dirty, filthy, and lazy.

As articulate as I feel like mister August Walker is, this just screams something he’d enjoy. It’s the perfect amount of watching and feeling your ass bounce back on him from his thrusts but also have the advantage of being bigger than you to also watch the pleasure he’s giving you.

Maybe you’re stranded in this hideaway house with him while traveling on a mission. Enemies to lovers with a sprinkle of hate sex because yeah, you actually can’t fucking stand him and he can’t stand you either. But no one would ever get you to admit that there was that underlying sexual attraction to him.

You just hated his demeanor at times. He was a realist and sometimes he’d bring you back to reality harshly and burst your bubble.

That night went horribly because not only did he pick the biggest room, ordered the wrong food for you, but now he’s trying to demean you and undermine your work as a secret agent. He was cocky and had no problem comparing himself to you in a shitty light. That had to be the final straw for you.

You cussed him out good and well, and ordered him out. You couldn’t care less that he stood there dumbfounded while you changed into your night clothes. Fuck him. But you were ignoring a bear that you pissed off. His anger was boiling.

His eyes shamelessly watched you dress down in sleep shorts and a cami shirt, no kind of bra underneath. You brushed past him boldly and got comfortable on your bed stomach first, your body facing towards the end of the bed, watching trashy tv as if he wasn’t even there.

He took in your figure and the fact that your ass was barely supported by those shorts. And then he got mad all over again.

His thick and naked body had you trapped in between the bed as you clutched the rail of the end of the bed. August was a solid 6’4 and brawny, he towered you in more ways than one and especially in this position. His pelvis clapped against your ass harshly, his thrusts growing meaner and rougher.

Looping a thick arm around your neck, he bent your body to look at him. His frown was deep, his eyes were a dark teal as he continued to fuck you with ease.

“I want you to look at me and say all that shit you said to me earlier. Go ahead. With this tiny little pussy being stretched out by my cock— try and run your mouth now” August snarled.

When you weren’t able to coherently answer him, he growled and released you, only to grab your hair. The top of his chin resting on the side of your face. All you could do was look at him.

“That’s what I fucking thought. From this point forward, don’t ever talk back to me, do you fucking understand me? Or I have no problem bending you over wherever we are and making you daddy’s little bitch. Answer, now”

You cried out from one particular thrust, the head of him going deeper than you could comprehend. You nodded as best as you could. “Yes, fuck yes, I u-understand”

“You understand, who?” August teased, pulling your hair tighter, making you whimper.

“I understand, daddy. I promise”

But August wasn’t satiated, “now apologize and mean it, or instead of getting my cum inside of you, ‘m gonna pull out and ruin this pretty face”

He listened to you beg pathetically and when you came, it was enough to trigger his own release. He kept his promise— his hot cum spurting deeply into you in thick streams. So much so that some of it began to seep out of you.

“Such a good little whore” August seethed, biting on the skin of your neck, “had all that fucking mouth and for what? Just to end up taking my cum like the brainless little slut you are. Don’t ever disrespect me like that again, am I clear?”

You mewled, nodding, “yes, sir”

“Good. Now get up and get on top of me, I need to fuck all that defiance outta you. Let’s go” he ordered, slapping your ass harshly.

..

enjoyyy 😚

The way you were so kind to warn me of an incoming filthy thoT in my inbox…bless you cause this floooored me!!! Like funny how my legs are suddenly wide open ahhhh, collapsed doggy + August Walker? Literally on my knees groveling for it 🤧🥵

Like do we see him!

Definitely the face of a man who would put you in that position and tell you to act all tough like you were before, just to go ahead and act up one more time if you even can, which ofc you can’t but that just makes it so much hotter when you prove what he already knows!

BESTIE THE DIALOGUE! Melting through the floor, it’s giving mean daddy and I’m so here for it! The threats! Telling you not to disrespect him like that ever again! Whew baby he’s pissed and I’m scared but turned on!

Need him to tell me not to talk back to him good god and the fact that he’s still not done with you either, that he’ll smile and mock your whimpers when you get on top because let’s face it he’s big and despite fucking you open you’re so sensitive now, sinking down onto him is a task but he feels so good filling you up too, yeah I just know August is the type to love fucking you just past overstimulation especially when you’ve been a brat

Also you get me…his arm around your neck….(s)creams lmao! So so good, ily for sending me this my love!!! 💌

[mwahangel]

“The only one I love”

Warning: fluff,enemies to allies to lovers,Kaiser knows your secret,you being the only female in blue lock,kasier is always teasing you, NO FEMALE BATHHOUSE

Kinda shortI’m sorry

A/n:I’m so bored rn so enjoy this thing I have made might rewrite this again

Not proof read

Enjoy<3

____________________________________________

Micheal Kaiser a man so full of himself your surprised that he knows your secret. He trapped you in a corner where no one would see you the height difference was something.

“Now see who knew that you worked for mister ego himself? I mean it makes sense your the only girl here bet you enjoy all the looks from everyone Hm?” He was so close to your face your breath was shakey.

“How-how do you know?” He smirked

“I have my ways~” your hands were shakey he held them.

“So pretty I haven’t even done anything and your scared? How cute” he let go of your hands and walked away into the light,you disappeared into the dark.

Unlocking a room with your finger,ego was sat on a chair,”someone found out Hm?” You nodded.

“Don’t let it happen again.” You nodded again.

“Dismissed.” You left the room

____________________________________________

Being allies with Micheal Kaiser was the worst,the asshole would always flirt with you,giving you small kisses on the cheek and called you Schatz (treasure) how annoying!

After training you washed your hair and went in the bath house where you thought you were alone but NO.

“Hey Schatz looking gorgeous as always” you grabbed your towel getting out of the water covering your body.

“What are you doing in here?! This is the women- oh no don’t tell me-“ you saw people coming in.

Micheal Kaiser just sat in the water smirking.

“No women’s bath place here” you ran out of there as quick as possible.

“Was that y/n?!” Reo said.

“I think” nagi said.

“Damn I guess she didn’t know there ain’t any bath places for girls” isagi said and the 3 of them slighly laughed.

Kaiser side eyed them.

____________________________________________

(20)Micheal Kaiser was the best lover you could ask for,man was so good in bed 😏,he spoiled your rotten but all in all he is so in love with you.

“Y/n?” Kaiser said your name as you both cuddled in bed watching tv.

“Yes my love?” You said looking up at him.

“I’m sorry for being horrible to you back then” he spoke with true sorrow in his voice.

“It’s okay,if you weren’t a bitch back then maybe we would have been already together- maybe not because you were obsessed with beating isagi but anyways” you both laugh,kaiser hugged your a little tigher.

“So can we fu-“ you bonked his head.

“So yea?” You just laugh kissing his lips,he kissed back he melted on your soft lips.

[spidereggs888]

Miguel bangs Dr Doom and the poor bastard asks for seconds

/j

Miguel & You

ACT 3 | INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE

Miguel O’Hara & y/n, any gender or non gender. Very casual writing style. TW Dark humor, dangerous situations, 18+ language. Y/n are sorta attracted to Miguel (why else would you be here?) but he doesn’t know you lol

(Seriously, if you haven't read ACT 1 or ACT 2, NONE of this will make sense)

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

“Okay? I mean you still got your job, yeah?” your friend says.

“It’s different now! I can’t- my job’s not enough- all my savings are GONE! All those data sticks were full of nontaxable credit and now it’s probably being hocked off for rapture! What the shock am I gonna do?!”

“Wait, wait! Hang on, lemme text Bryce! He gonna know something!”

“I REALLY can’t believe that O’Hara! We talked about this! I made my case pretty simple and he agreed to a follow up meeting- and now he’s just gonna CANCEL on me?!”

“Hey it’s not his fault! He doesn’t know what you’re going through.”

You are so mad you almost tell her the truth. But his secret identity could be a bargaining chip! Yeah sure that will be stooping low but he KNOWS you are one lost payment away from house hunting, which is a horrible experience in Nueva York, especially if you’re broke.

After some sounds of computer work on her end, Speshall re-emerges.

“Hold on… okay. Bryce says Mister O’Hara is back in the Alchemax Business Bureau building.”

“Good God, tell Bryce I said thanks!”

“You better hurry, cuz people who lost their shot yesterday are trying to catch him today. I don’t know how word got out that he didn’t choose anyone as a secretary, but yeah, they are scrambling to get a hold of him. You better hurry!”

You pull out your only spare jacket (the clear plastic one that only keeps off the rain), and throw on a new scarf. You are back at square one, where you gotta compete with all the other interviewees, including Suck-up Syd who’s gonna be even more desperate this time, and Beta-Brody, who just might actually appeal to O’Hara now that he’s about to have an uninterrupted audience with the guy!

Your chances are slim, but if you stand to lose everything, why the hell dwell here?!

░▒▓スパイダーマン▓▒░

When you exit the apartment complex, you run through all of the holograms offering a better life, past all the salesmen trying to convert you to the great house of Thor, and slam your palm down on the terminal button to call the apartment valet.

"Welcome back, tenant 27," the AI apartment valet greets, “Do you want-”

“YES! Give it to me!”

Your car roars out of its hiding place as if it knows today isn’t the day to worry you with her many problems. She is bright red with flaking paint, but she is here in your time of need.

“We refueled your vehicle. Do you accept the charges-”

“BILL ME TOMORROW!”

You rush and slide across the hood, executing the perfect slide and land on your feet on the other side. The door unlatches automatically and you climb in (that almost never happens), and you slam your foot down on the gas pedal.

“I’m comin’ for you, O’Hara!”

░▒▓человек-паук▓▒░

After dodging and slipping through traffic, you arrive at the Alchemax Business Bureau parking lot. The automated parking center kiosk accepts your money this time since your mom knows how to clean her gambling money (you have yet to learn this difficult process), and you get to enter the building in a more conventional way. 

The lobby is already in chaos. People are fighting over the coffee machine for some reason, slapping and hitting each other. You turn your back on it and face the old man behind the receptionist desk. He grimaces at you.

“You don’t have anything to do with the crazy shit happening over there, right?” He asks. This was the first time he’s spoken to you in a while.

“Don’t think so. Uh, has O’Hara come through?”

“Heh. What do you think?”

You cringe at the sound of a coffee pot crashing to the floor. The receptionist opens a holoscreen and looks at you through it.

“He’s up in the temp office again.”

He discreetly brings a cup of black coffee up from behind the desk and sets it near you.

“Just pushing forward a favor.”

His eyes focus on the video call that pops up between you, and he continues, “We need custodial support in the lobby. We got some broken glass and hot coffee all over the damn place.”

≋≋≋（スパイダーマン）≋≋≋

You are on the elevator, coffee in hand with a pocket full of sugars. You decide not to drink it, you plan to give it to O’Hara (everyone else must have had this same plan, hence fighting over the pitcher of coffee.) The elevator lets someone else on. The doors open and you see the smoky eyes of Suck-Up Syd.

“Ah, you got past everyone else, I see.”

You reluctantly move over as she strides in. You notice she’s wearing a backless dress before she pulls her faux fur jacket back over her shoulders. She knows you saw, she chuckles and sighs.

“Don’t ya love this day and age?” she asks innocently.

“It could be better,” you say pleasantly.

“I just love how a woman can be herself and flaunt what she’s got…” 

She waits for a word of validation but you say nothing to her. She continues.

“I got this dress from Michael, our last boss. Remember him?”

“Ah, yeah. The guy who gave me a second chance…”

“Yeah after the whole embezzling thing! Tsk, I’m so glad you didn’t get fired, you know that? Like really, you are the nicest person in this whole wide place! It would have been so unfair of him to let you go. But he’s very generous.”

You wanna say something mean to her but you are at a crucial point in your life to have stupid Suck-Up Syd karma in the mix.

The elevator door opens and you see a guy laying face down on the floor. He’s groaning in pain. It’s the nice Indian man from yesterday.

“Oh my, what happened here?” Syd asks.

“Ah just some stuff that needed settling,” says the familiar douchey voice of Brody, who walks up from the corner while rubbing his knuckles.

“Did you beat up that guy?!” You scold.

“Well, he got in my face,” he says with a matter-of-fact tone.

“I somehow doubt that!” You scoff.

 Brody smirks and takes your coffee.

“Dude, that’s mine!” you complain.

He sips it while keeping eye-contact with you. He then immediately scrunches his face.

“Ew, you don’t add anything to your coffee?!”

“That’s very rude and gross, Broly,” Syd says with sarcasm, walking away towards the glass elevator. He hands the coffee back to you and swiftly follows her, and you reluctantly follow.

“I was just playing, Sydney, lighten up! Nice dress, by the way!”

“Thank you.”

“I mean... you flaunted it for Micheal, I bet you could do the same exact routine for O’Hara and get the job instantly! That's your in-an-out plan, right?”

“Hey, if he thinks hiring me will get him there then that’s on him, not me.”

“What are you pushing 38, going on 39 any time now? You can’t use your looks forever, tick-tock tick-tock.”

“Oh wow, says the guy who believes in that Alpha Male BS. You are aware that the same guy who coined that whole thing turned around and disproved it years later, you know that, right?”

“So it’s not true for wolves, but it’s definitely true for Man.”

“You are not even close to being a Beta…” you grumble. 

He looks back at you with a fake smile. Syd laughs.

“Oh well check this out-”

He slaps the coffee down out of your hands and it gushes all over your pants and shoes. You jump back and kick your legs.

“Dude! That BURNS! What the FUCK?!”

“You got it on my dress, you fucking animal!” Syd complains, stepping back away from the dark puddle.

“Oh you were gonna take it off to show what’s left of your body anyway! Get with the now and lighten up!”

“You are SUCH an asshole!” You yell. You start kicking him in the legs. Syd joins in, thrashing him with her stiletto. The both of you back him into the corner as he tries to guard his face. The glass doors open and the three of you stop your squabbling as y’all realize there has been an audience for the last few seconds.  

The pair of security guards from yesterday are standing near the elevator, both looking somewhat amused about the elevator fight, and two men are sitting on either side of the tiny desk, one of them being O’Hara and the other is your ex boss.

“Oh… uh, hi!” Syd stammers, taken aback by the present company. Brody pushes her aside and strides across the room with his hand extended.

“Hey, Mister O’Hara! The name’s Brody Tice! Nice to meet-”

“The hell are you guys doing here?” O’Hara asks.

“Hey, yeah, I didn’t get to meet you yesterday-  had some stuff come up, but I heard you were here today, so I thought-”

“Then SIT,” O’Hara demanded.

“Actually, I do better standing!” 

“Sit the hell down, Brody,” Micheal snaps, “Now’s not the time!”

[Brody mumbles something about being fine where he is.]

“Is everything okay, Micheal?” Syd asks, defaulting to an innocent tone.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Micheal says with glossed, lazy eyes. He always had this look whenever he was forced to care, “Someone formerly in our department just complained about some old history and we are trying to smooth it out.”

"Oh, this is beyond smoothing out," O'Hara said with an unsafe tone while smiling, "Yeah, this little game you have going on comes to an end today."

"What game?!" Micheal scoffs, leaning back in his chair.

“I’ve had my AI assistant cross-reference your employment history and your payment history and I did not like what she told me," O'Hara says, putting his giant paws together, "You’ve been withholding payment from your employees by not immediately updating their salary in the system after they were given a raise. And you’d neglect doing anything until they actually confront you about it, and even then, you never paid them the missing difference. And you did this, let's say, roughly eighty times in the past four years?”

Your blood boils. This man has been a parasite this whole time while you scraped by. Micheal looks back and forth at Syd and Brody, unable to keep eye contact with O'Hara.

"Wha- WHICH of you- Syd! I thought I could TRUST you!" Micheal stammers.

"What? Micheal! No! I didn't say anything about you!"

Micheal's gaze darts to Brody, but then he swivels his head to you instead.

"Was it you?!"

"Wow, you're really just gonna look for someone to blame, huh?" Brody scoffs.

"Whoever did this doesn't know who they're messing with!" Micheal says, his face red as he shakes, "I have too much as stake to be taken down by some rat!"

“It was ME!” you yell, not willing to take anything else laying down anymore, “I confirmed what happened!”

Micheal looks genuinely surprised at you yelling. Syd just blinks awkwardly and Brody grins. O’Hara is still sitting with his elbows resting on his desk, watching from behind clasped fingers.

“What on earth did you-”

“The ultimatum you gave me! You pulled me aside into the maintenance closet and made me choose between getting fired or demoted, REMEMBER?!”

“We took you into the maintenance closet because the situation was private-”

“You just didn’t want anyone with a brain noticing you were doing something illegal!”

“He was on vacation!” Syd said defensively, “You should have just waited-”

“Oh that’s SUCH bullshit! He wanted to see how long he could go without actually paying me what I was owed!” 

“It was just a fluke in the system-”

“It was no fluke, it was CALCULATED!” You snap, stepping towards her with your finger in her face, “And you should know, Syd! You fucking stood there watching like the stupid little henchman you are! You KNEW Micheal was doing something illegal and you did NOTHING to report it! And we know why! Because you KNEW if I went down, you would instantly get my position as vice head PR accountant! You were a snake from the start and always HAVE been!”

“Oh shush! You were sniveling and crying like a BABY, begging to keep the job! I may be what I am but at least I have some dignity-”

“Sydney! Let’s not push it!” Micheal warned.

“That’s fucking laughable coming from you, y’know that?” Brody says to Syd, “You are the LAST person with any dignity around here! You dropped your panties for Ashton when I told you he was head of our department! You didn’t even try to research him or anything! You just did it because you’re a whore.”

“And you!” you yell, pointing at Brody.

“Ah, let’s hear it!” He retorts.

“You are the biggest lying asshole in this whole fucking industry! How the fuck has no one laid you out yet?! All that alpha dog bullshit has gone so far up your ass, I don’t know where your sexist bullshit ends and where your goddamn shit-eating grin begins! You gotta tear people down because you aren’t strong enough to hack it with the big dogs, are ya?! ARE YA, BRODY?! Oh, look at me! I’m Brody Tice! I’m too mean and stupid to make meaningful relationships work, so I bully others to assert a false sense of dominance! And if that don’t work, I resort to telling people I was diddled in the doo doo hole by my best friend Ashton because that’s the kind of LOSER I am!”

Brody’s pride is on the line, and he was not taking too kindly to you airing out his dirty laundry in front of O’Hara. He steps up to you, his fake smile now grinding into a dangerous sneer.

“Oh, NOBODY has laid me out yet because they CAN’T!”

“You are so full of shit!”

“Go ahead and make your move, then!”

“Everyone just stop!” Syd pleads anxiously.

“You can't always get away with everything you’ve DONE!” You say coldly. Blood is rushing in your ears and you can feel your neck getting hot. Brody jabs you in the shoulder with his knuckles.

“Make your move, bitch-” 

Having seen enough, O’Hara stands up and swiftly grabs Brody by the front of his shirt. He leads the smaller man around on his toes as they come face to face. Brody’s eyes bulge.

“Wow, man! Your hands are massive-”

 O’Hara picks the whole man up and one-arm slams Brody through the tiny desk. Just *bam* throws him down TLC style. Travel-sized bottles fly everywhere.

Brody stares up at the ceiling, making a long minuscule whining sound. The desk is finished and everyone is frozen in place. 

“Quitar este loser,” he commanded, pointing down at Brody and flicking his finger at the door. The two guards grabbed Brody and lifted him out of the rubble. 

“As for you two,” he said, turning to Syd and Michael, “clean out your desks!”

“W-why?!” Syd whined

“You can't do this!” Michael begged, his grey eyes bulging, "I have been with this department for thirty years! I was here when your father ran this place!"

O'Hara clenches his jaw and fists. His eyes flash dangerously.

"--Though you do a spectacular job as CEO, WAY better than... It-It really was an honest fluke, I get very overwhelmed with all my responsibilities- please! You can’t fire me!”

He stares down Micheal, considering him a little longer. He drops his scowl and lets his hands free.

“Relax, I’m not firing you or Miss Sarcoth here,” O’Hara says with a falsely kind tone, “I mean, you really should be fired, but a guy your age doesn’t stand a chance in the private sector, so I’m moving you both to the custodial department! They’ll love you there!”

“Oh... well alright,“ Michael mutters, eyes bugged out at the giant financial nuke that missed him by inches.

“Wait, why am I being dragged down too?!” Syd whined, “there’s no proof I was even THERE!”

“There's lots of surveillance of your complacency and possible cooperation, Miss Sarcoth. Don’t even bother trying to argue your way out of this one. Now both of you, off to your new jobs! C’mon! You only get one chance!”

O'Hara gives them both a clenched smile. Syd and Micheal exchange confused stares.

“Go on before I get pissed off,” he said in a colder tone.

They scramble to gather their coats and rush out of the room. Those two jackasses who screwed with your livelihood just to make themselves laugh are now fucking off to whatever hell hole O’Hara has decided to stuff them into.

O’Hara sighs and paces away. He grumbles about idiots fucking around with their goddamn money. You clear your throat. He straightens his anti glare lenses then looks at you.

“Have a seat, since you’re here.”

You sit down where Michael was seated before. You stare this guy down because this is it! You are ready for hellfire. You are ready for searing words and possible loss of a limb or head in the conversation to come. You squint at those red eyes behind the comically large lenses. How has nobody accused him of being a vampire? Either way, you are ready to gamble it all, to hell with being cautious!

You are gonna take this vampire down.

“You are wondering why I canceled our meeting, yeah?” He asks with raised brows.

You are relieved he brought it up first.

“Yeah. Why?”

“I decided I don’t need a secretary,” he said, “turns out it’s too damn stressful and stupid. I’ve been doing just fine with my AI assistant.”

“What about all the people who wanted to work for you?”

“They have their own jobs already, it’s not like they have nothing to go back to.”

“Well I don’t,” you say, gripping the edge of your chair. He makes a curious face.

“You have a job, what do you mean-“

“I’ve been cheated, blackmailed, rejected, declined, and robbed, all because of idiots like Michael and Syd… and that idiot Brody! I’m not about to let a dismissive playboy who fires people left and right, AND moonlights as Spider-Man kick me down without a fight-“

O’Hara comes back over and sits down in his chair quickly, making you flinch, but he’s smiling.

“So you WERE awake when I saved you!”

“Yeah,” you say quietly. You are now shaking but not breaking your stare from his amused expression.

“Now you know who I am and what I do… at least only the tip of that gargantuan iceberg… so what do you want? Money? You gonna blackmail me?”

“What fucking choice do I have?” You say heatedly, “I lost everything down there in that hell hole! My data sticks, my phone, all of that was my LIFE in order, and now I either go further into debt or I get a better job that will take care of me for the rest of my life!”

O’Hara leans back into his chair, his brow furrowed as he rubs his chin.

“Don’t think for a second I’m not grateful for you saving my life! I don’t know how you knew I needed saving but you did!”

“My AI assistant Lyla informed me your location was moving down to a notorious criminal breeding ground. I thought you were one of those Black Market Demons trying to infiltrate Alchemax for drugs.”

“What?”

“I mean the descriptors fit. I guessed you were financially unstable and turning to gambling because you had a Rapture habit. But… you didn’t seem physically unwell like a Rapture user. The only other possibility was that you were being kidnapped. Since I already met you and saw it about to happen, I just couldn’t ignore it.”

You look to the floor, feeling bad about readying yourself to fight this guy.

“I knew you needed help. I'm sorry about your data sticks and all your money. I didn’t know- you do have a bank account, right? I mean, you have a job-”

“My job salary goes there, yeah, but that goes straight into automated payments since I’m on the Alchemax home-employment plan… I have the data sticks because my bank won’t accept anything considered gambling money. And I don’t have enough earnings for an offshore account… so I kept it all on the data sticks…”

He is hanging on every word now. You look up at those sad bespectacled eyes.

“Also… I just wanted some personal spending money for myself. I just wanna wear nice stuff and eat something else besides mineral bars…”

He politely watches you try not to feel sorry for yourself. You are both quiet for a little spell. You can hear the wind outside, and an automated cleaning system starts spraying the shit out of the glass elevator. It sounds like a car wash.  All that coffee on the floor is being washed away.

He sighs and looks out the windows.

“Well, I can’t say I wasn’t impressed at the decade and a half you put into PR work for Alchemax,” he finally says. You wipe away a single tear and look up at him as he pulls up your files on his neat watch. He picks out your best work with his calloused but beautiful hands, “You started running hot meals for the Alchemax elderly program at fifteen years old… went into mail room tech for a while there, occasionally doing lobby work and handling public events… not bad at all.”

"Thanks," you say modestly.

“Most of all, I really admire that you came here. I don’t know how you knew I’d be here, but you must have some great resources to pull that off. I'm impressed.” 

You smile at him weakly. He smiles back.

“What do you think about taking Micheal's old job?” 

“Wha- REALLY?!”

“Ah I’m sure you’ll do fine! Besides, I didn’t know who I was gonna pick as head of PR account and finances, anyway! So, what do you say?”

You stand up and so does he. You extend your hand and he takes it.

“Thank you for this opportunity, sir! I won’t let you down!”

“You actually don’t have a choice.”

You smile but then feel yesterday’s emotions catch up with you. The darkness with the dead bodies and freaky black market demons. Running until your legs were on fire and your lungs hurt. Being surrounded by those demons in the darkness. You dive in for a hug.

“Thank you for saving my life…” you murmur into his shirt.

“C’mon, I’m Spider-Man, it’s what I do.”

You hold your head against those mighty pecs of his. His dress shirt is so silky and soft and smells like the kind of detergent that goes hard like crack. You go ahead and wrap the other arm around him as you behold the heartbeat of a hero, something so rare in any day and age. You will never forget this sensation as he carefully pats your back.

“Ah, okay, just take it all in… I’m only allowing this once… hey, also promise me you'll keep my secret, okay?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"I'm not kidding. If you go telling people I'm Spider-Man, I'll make you clean toilets. SPECIFICALLY toilets. And only toilets."

You start to giggle. He does too.

"Just toilets, all day and all night! I'm serious. I know we are laughing but I'm dead serious. No estoy bromeando! Comprendes?"

"Si comprendes," you manage to muffle out.

"Good, good... Okay get off me. Please.”

You smile and let him go. He gives you an awkward smile and rubs the side of his massive neck. 

"So... seeing as I'm removing Micheal and pretty much any and all staff members who conspired with him, you’ll need to hire your own assisting staff. You have anyone in mind?”

≋≋≋（蜘蛛侠）≋≋≋

“I’m going to lunch!” You call out as you leave your glass paneled office. 

“You want me to go ahead and send out this mass email, dear?” Your mother says from behind her grand desk.

“You let Speshall look at it, right?”

“It’s wordy but I’m sure it’s fine,” Speshall says from her office area. She returns to her phone, “Oh they eloped?! To where?!”

Your new staff has it's own habits but they are much better than the unjust monsters running things before. You walk onto the elevator (the only one since the other two are STILL broken), and the nice Indian man from weeks ago joins you.

"How's life, Arjuna?" You ask.

"Ah, in-laws are staying over for a month."

"Oh? Is that bad?"

"Not really. Let's say I just might jump out a window," he says, slyly.

"Well I know a few custodians perfect for the job!" you blurt out. The both of you crack up laughing. You fortunately don't have to ever see Micheal, Syd, and Brody on a daily basis since O'Hara sent them off to clean in the Alchemax Museum of Tech, but that hasn't stopped you or your friends from making them the butt of all your jokes.

You walk out into the lobby of the Alchemax Business Bureau, where you see your red Maglev Nova outside waiting in the rain. 

“All fueled up, boss!” Says the old receptionist behind the counter. He’s drinking his coffee in peace.

“Thanks, Stan!” You say.

You walk outside to your car. The paint job was redone and all her internal issues gone as she hums cleanly, awaiting your arrival. You open the door to get in.

"HEY!"

You look over the Nova. You see O'Hara across the street.

“Miguel! Hey!” 

“Hey! We doin’ this?”

“Yeah! I got some coupons for double thick enchiladas! Two for the price of one!”

“Ay, you and those coupons! I told you, I’m buying! Woah-“

He steps back as a truck flies past him. It drives right through a puddle, drenching the man. He stands there all stunned; his jacket was folded on his arm and his dress shirt soaked.

He gapes at you and you realize you are staring at the wet shirt clinging to his chiseled body. 

“We- we can stop by the dry cleaners on the way," you stammer as you politely look away.

๋࣭ ⭑🕸 fin 🕸๋࣭ ⭑

Thank you for reading.

[carefreemonk]

[ Water ] - The liquid of life, the quencher of thirst. Served in crystalline glasses. And what’s more dramatic than throwing water at someone’s face!

HM. he slowly turns the glass of water in hand, studying it carefully before thrusting it into the other's face. "i wonder!" odin muses, "from whence does this liquid spring forth? does it come from a sanctified well, or does it merely flow from the common tap, enchanted by an accursed tome or ill-omened relic? imagine if, that drip-drip-dripping we perceive as water...was actually the tears of immortal souls, paying penance for sins most dire."

Already, the monk is pinching his brow.

He is not being paid enough for all of. This.

The corners of his mouth downturned in distaste, the monk gingerly pushes the glass of water away. Away from his face. Away from his clothes. Away from the whole of him, preferably redirected in a different direction altogether.

Odin is in the midst of giving him a whole new plethora of trust issues, you see.

And also a headache.

"It shall be from the tears of yours truly we'll be sourcing the remainder of tonight's fare if you. do not. S t o p." Really, Azama might have been bored to tears just moments ago, but now he wishes he'd never taken those moments for granted. He has regrets, yes. Many regrets.

He does not function well with regrets. Life is too short, ephemeral, to be weighed down with concerns o'er the present. This, too, will pass, he reminds himself, and yet...

Perhaps the evening might yet be salvaged...?

"Actually, Mister Odin Dark," lol. what kind of a name. "Do you see that [miss over there by the wall]? I have it on good authority that she is in the know, if you know what I mean? She may well part with her secrets concerning this curious liquid of yours-" it's water, w h y can't Odin just call it water "-if you approach her with the right incentive, that is."

(For emphasis, Azama jingles the bells on his brooch. Not an invitation to exchange, no, gods no, but a hint! That he hopes Odin will take and leave with.)

[tinytiger]

The Hobbit- A Kili x F!Reader Fanfic

The Unexpected Party

Masterlist

In the heart of Middle-earth, (Y/N), daughter of an elven king and a dwarf embarks on a quest to reclaim her heritage. Joining Thorin Oakenshield's company, she finds herself drawn to Kili, a dwarf prince. As they journey towards Erebor, (Y/N) confronts the challenges of her mixed bloodline and discovers the true meaning of family. Amidst laughter and camaraderie, she uncovers secrets buried within the mountain and embraces her role as a beacon of hope in the darkness.

Words- 3594 x

The arrow hit its target.

“Yes!” a h/c hair elf cheered, only she wasn’t an elf she had dwarf blood in her too. Most of her was dwarf, she would live as long as them, and she would be as tall as a normal she-dwarf, but she had elf ears, could speak fluent elvenish and could use elven healing, which she only used on herself and her father.

Sighing, she began to walk back to where she had tied up her pony. She thought back to yesterday when her dream had been turned away from her just because of her protective father.

*Flashback*

As Y/n dusted the wood shavings off of her apron she began humming a song she remembered her mother sung to her back when she was alive. Of course, she remembered her real mother and father, but they never came to get her back. News that the young elf princess had been missing travelled fast across Middle Earth, but no one connected it to Y/n. As she walked out of her room to place the arrow she had just finished making with her stuff outside she heard Bilbo’s raised voice echo through the door that had been painted only a week ago.

“There will be no adventures around here! Thank you and-“

Y/n stuck her head out of the door and her eyes met the dazzling colour that belonged to a wizard she knew quite well. 

“Adventure?” she asked completely stepping out of the door and standing next to her father, her beautiful eyes glinting as she bounced on the balls of her feet. 

“Why, Ms Y/n. Yes I do believe you two would be perfect for the vacancies!” exclaimed Gandalf as he chuckled at the whooping young lady in front of her.

“Yes, I would love to go, when, where, what are we doing? Is there the option I might die? it sounds like I’m in!” Y/n cheered running up to where she hid the bow and sword from Bilbo, who in surprise and shock thought that those two things were in the bottom of his drawers Y/n was never allowed to touch.

“No way on Middle Earth are you going on this adventure!” Bilbo shouted as she jumped over the wall of his front garden. Y/n’s head shot up as looked at him with utter disappointment. 

“But Father I-“

“Don’t you dare ‘but father’ me young lady, we talked about this. I hid that from you for a reason.” Gandalf looked at the two and smiled. 

“I’m sorry Gandalf, but I will not allow you to infect her mind with ideas of this adventure you speak of. Come over for tea, tomorrow. Yes come over tomorrow and don’t talk about adventure with my daughter. Umm, good day!” 

And with that, he closed the door swiftly but not to seem rude, after all, wizards were wizards.

He sighed, Y/n was in the kitchen. Her shoulders slumped.

Bilbo sighed again, he hated arguing with her, and she always won.

“When did you take the swords and bow from my draws?” he asked as he sat at the table drinking his cup of tea.

Y/n chuckled and said with a smile adorning on her face, “ When you came back from Mister Gamgees about 7 years ago. You were a bit on the booze, so I saw the opportunity and dashed into your drawing room. They have been hidden in the bush outside, in a case I bought.”

She had fully turned around her green dress waving around her feet like the sea.

Bilbo laughed and pushed a cup of tea towards her, the two spent the night playing cards until the moon was high in the sky.

*End of Flashback*

Y/n noticed how dark it was and quickly got on her black pony Stumpy and quickly rode home. Bilbo had told her to be back before it got dark for tea. She was doing this to hope that Bilbo would let her go on the adventure of her lifetime.

 When she arrived at the hobbit's house, she quickly tied up Stumpy. She pushed the door open, and a sight met her eyes she would never forget:

Four dwarves were pushing and pulling on a table that wouldn’t go through a door, Bilbo was trying to stop them and as soon as she walked through the door all five heads turned to see her. Y/n chuckled, hung up her cloak, unbuckled the sword hustler from her waists that held only her to daggers and placed her weapons on a chair to her left. She looked back at the dwarves and saw two young ones and two old ones. 

“Ummm. Who is the lass?” one said. He had a shaved head and tattoos all over his muscular arms.

 “This is Y/n, my adopted daughter,” Bilbo said as he wiped the sweat from his eyebrows.

 Suddenly all four dwarves dropped the table and stood in a line to greet her. First, a dwarf who had white hair and his name was Balin, then a blonde dwarf with a beard who was called Fili, then came the one who asked you who she was, and his name was Dwalin, then finally a very handsome dwarf kissed her hand and winked at her. 

He had brown curly hair which fell down to his shoulder and brown eyes that sparkled, he unlike his brother Fili, had only some small stubble. His name was Kili. Blushing, she went to help Bilbo get the table of his foot. 

“Why, on middle earth are there four dwarves here? She hissed to Bilbo. He quite loudly whispered back to her glaring at them. 

“No clue.” Y/n quickly went to her room and pulled her hair over her ears.

 Dwarves and Elves never had a good relationship, and she had the idea they knew a lot more about her than she would like.

When she left her room, she was met by a lot more dwarves than there were originally. Then Y/n stopped as she saw Gandalf talking to a dwarf with a grey beard and holding a tray. 

She stomped over and asked, “Gandalf who are these…. dwarves.”

 Trying not to sound too rude she didn’t want to call them a name she would regret.

 “My dear Y/n these are the dwarves of Erebor, we have Dwalin, Balin, Kili, Fili, Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur. We are one short though.” Gandalf said pointing at each dwarf at the sound names then sighing. 

“He went to see our kin, in the iron hills. He will be here soon.” Dwalin said leaning against the doorway. 

Y/n walked over to the table and sat down between Kili and Bofur. Then Fili walked onto the table passing everyone a beer and stopping at her. She raised an eyebrow and took the mug out of his hands.

 She slushed the beer around in its mug. Y/n had had this beer before, and she liked it. Looking up she saw every dwarf looking at her with now wet beards as they had all downed their beers.

 “Come, lass,” Bofur said slapping her on the back. Then Y/n spotted Bilbo looking at her shaking his head at her. She smirked at him shrugging her shoulders she knocked her head back as she downed the beer. 

Not spilling a drop. 

When she placed the mug back down, she looked around at the dwarves, mouths open, very wide. Bilbo huffed and threw his arms in the air. Then she felt an arm go around her shoulders, she looked up to meet chocolate brown eyes. She felt her face warm up, then she moved backwards.

 Only to fall into Bofur, who moved backwards, making Y/n fall off the table and bagging her head. A burst of laughter erupted from the room. Then Kili wrapped his arms under Y/n and pulled her up to sit next to him.

 “So, lass, what’s a young girl like you doing slushing down beer like a dwarven maiden,” Balin said. Y/n felt her heart drop. 

“I’m part dwarf and-,” Y/n said staring at her mug. 

“An elf?” Balin said as she tucked her hair behind her ears. Y/n looked up and the dwarfs were all smiling. 

 “Lass, don’t worry your head, we know what you are!” Dwalin said smacking her in the back. 

“You do!” She expressed.

 To her left Kili put his arm around her and smiled. 

“Of course, many dwarves have fallen for elves before!” Kili winked at the group as Y/n’s face grew hot. She stood up and went to find Bilbo. He was not enjoying the company as much as she was. He was whisper-shouting at Gandalf.

 “And I don’t even want to mention what they have done in the toilet.” Y/n giggled as she walked up to Bilbo and said, “I think they are lovely, and maybe they could tell me a bit about my mother.” 

Then Ori came over to them and asked. 

“I am sorry to interrupt but where shall I put my plate?” Y/n opened her mouth to speak but then Fili said.

 ”Here Ori give it here.” Then he threw it over his head towards Kili who caught it and then threw it back into the kitchen.

 “Hey, I need my head,” Y/n said as the second plate narrowly missed her if she hadn’t ducked. Then Biblo ran back into the kitchen where the table had been placed Y/n heard Kili sing:

Blunt the knives, bend the forks

Y/n looked up at him and smiled then Fili sang.

Smash the bottles and burn the corks!

Chip the glasses and crack the plates.

The rest of the dwarves joined in 

That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!

Laughing Y/n joined in ducking at the odd plate or so. Then Kili jumped next to her and started to spin her around. Her h/c hair followed behind her. 

Cut the cloth, tread on the fat.

Leave the bones on the bedroom mat.

Pour the milk on the pantry floor.

Splash the wine on every door!

Dump the crocks in a boiling bowls.

Pound them up with a thumping pole

When you're finished if they are whole

Send them down the hall to roll.

That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!

After what felt like hours of dancing and ducking, Y/n finally stopped next to Kili, who had a little pipe in his hand. All the dwarves were laughing, and Y/n was chuckling earning a look from Bilbo.

Then a loud harsh knock Bilbo rushed to get it and Y/n followed after Gandalf said hoarsely 

“He is here”.

 In front of Y/n and Bilbo was a handsome dwarf who had deep blue eyes, Y/n had recognised him and by the looks of it, so did he.

Then he walked in through the door and mumbled something about getting lost twice, but Y/n didn’t hear. 

She was too busy trying to remember where she had seen him before when something Gandalf had said brought her out of her trance.

 “This is Bilbo and Y/n is the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield.” Y/n looked up and gasped.

 She remembered something, her mother. 

On her birthday, her best friend Dis visited she showed the two a picture of her sons and brother, Thorin was the brother. Then Thorin looked at Biblo, not noticing the girl standing to his left. He did not look impressed,

“What is your weapon of choice axe or sword?” Y/n mentally face palmed herself when she heard the words coming out of Bilbo’s mouth. 

“I am quite skilled at conkers if you must not, but I see no reason on how that is at all relevant.” Sighing Thorin looked at Gandalf and said, “Are we making any more stops, I said to find the 14th and 15th members of the company. I only see one.” 

Y/n stepped out of the dark corner she slunked herself into.

“Good to see you to Thorin.” Thorin then spun around to see a spitting image of his sister’s best friend standing in front of him. 

“There Thorin is our 15th member,” Gandalf said pointing to Gwen. She smirked but then it dropped when Fili opened his mouth and spoke. 

“But Gandalf she is a girl, I bet she can’t even defend herself.” With a flash, Y/n pulled a dagger out of her pocket and threw it at Fili, narrowly missing his face but cutting off some of his beard and ramming into the wall behind him.  Bilbo gasped and the rest of the company chuckled. 

“You’re Namath’s daughter aren’t you,” Thorin said as he walked over to the kitchen table, nodding his head to his kin. 

“Yes, I am,” Y/n said following him and making him a plate of food.

 Thorin chuckled as he sat down. Then the rest of the company joined him. Y/n stood at the corner of the table until Kili beckoned her over. Y/n walked over and squatted beside him.

 “How do you know my uncle?” He said looking down at her, his eyes counting each freckle on her nose. 

“He knew my mother,” Y/n said standing up again after her thighs started to hurt her. She began to walk away but then Kili grabbed her hand and pulled her to sit next to him and Fili. Then Y/n lent towards Fili and said, 

“Sorry about earlier, I just hate it when people say stuff like that.” Fili chuckled and said back

 “It's fine, you can defend yourself.”

Y/n wanted to talk to Thorin about her mother, but more important things stood in the way. Gandalf was telling us about some map when she noticed him pull out a key from his sleeve. Thorin looked at it as if it were a puppy that just spoke. 

“If there’s a key, there must be a door,” Fili said. Y/n smiled at the thought she would be helping the company get back to their home and her mother’s old home. 

Then the dwarves started to shout about something when Thorin stood and shouted 

“Ath gjorv!” Y/n understood what he had said. As a young child, her mother had taught her Dwarvish, and she still spoke it but only she wanted to swear. All the dwarves fell silent, and then Thorin said. 

”The dragon, Smaug hasn’t been seen for 60 years. So, we still cannot just go barging in.” They all looked down and Ori said, 

“We will never get our home back.” 

 Y/n felt Kili move forward, and his knee moved towards hers. 

“But you don’t remember we have Gandalf on the team, I bet he has killed thousands of Dragons in his time.” He said smiling at every dwarf.

 Y/n looked up and saw Gandalf go pink with embarrassment, and instantly Y/n could tell that he had killed 0 dragons in his time. Then all the dwarves started to cheer again and even Y/n joined in this time, she would help get these dwarfs their home back, even if Bilbo said she couldn’t.

 “You will need a burglar then.” Y/n looked up to see Bilbo had walked behind Thorin. 

“And an expert one too.” Y/n laughed, Bilbo was walking straight into this one.

 “And are you?” Oin asked leaning forward. 

“Am I what?” Bilbo asked scratching his head.  

“He says he is an expert!” All the dwarves cheer again but Bilbo cuts them off by shouting 

“I am not a burglar! Neither is Y/n... I think.” 

Kili and Fili start to chuckle. 

“Well, there were a few times when I was out of arrows, and I used to get some from Mr. Jones. But then again I was 50.” Y/n said earning a glare from Bilbo. 

“I am afraid I agree with Mr Baggins, he is no Burglar, but the lass has shown great skill in defending herself, maybe she would like to come?” Balin said looking at Bilbo and then y/n who nodded her head as Balin passed her a contract.

 But before she could get it out of the old man’s hands Bilbo snatched it away from her. Y/n got up and walked over to him as he read. 

“Incineration!” Bilbo said after struggling to say the word for some time. 

“Oh yeah, Smaug would melt the flesh right off your bones,” Bofur said leaning around the doorway. Then Y/n grabbed the contract and lifted it higher so Bilbo couldn’t reach it. As she read through the pages, her heart lifted with every sentence, this looked like fun and she would get a 15th share. Then she said earning looks from the company, 

“Many ways to die, sounds like my kind of adventure.” Then she turned around and saw Bilbo lying on the floor. She sighed; he had fainted.

“Thanks for that Bofur.”  y/n heard Gandalf say as he moved forward and helped Y/n carrying Bilbo into a chair. 

After Bilbo had been placed in the chair, Y/n went to get a quill to sign the contract. She smiled looking down at the long curvy signature. She was going on an adventure, to claim back her mother's homeland. Then she remembered she had wanted to ask Thorin about her mother, so she found him talking to Balin. She handed over the contract and looked at Thorin. 

“So, I was wondering if you could tell me anything about my mother?” she asked after Balin walked away. Thorin smiled at her. 

“Sure, thing lass, well where do I begin? She looked exactly like you to start with, and…. She was a really good friend of mine, She and Dis were best friends so, she also was an exceptionally good fighter.” He said trying to remember what her mother was like. 

“But she went for a long expedition to visit her uncle in the iron hills, when Orcs had attacked her, she had put up a good fight, but one Orc came behind her, and she fainted. But when she opened her eyes, she was in a bed with your father looking at her. Dis visited her twice, one time when she was pregnant with you and then when you were born, she gave you a bow, which I saw on the chair by the door.”

 Y/n laughed. Her mother was exactly how she wanted to know her. But what she didn’t know was how she died.

 “Do…. Do you know how she died?” she asked. Thorin’s eyes fell, staring at the ground. Thorin did know how the young woman’s mother died but he didn’t want to tell afraid that she would go after the one responsible for her mother’s death.

 “No, Y/n I do not know. I am deeply sorry.” Thorin said pulling Y/n into a warm hug.

After the little pep talk with Thorin, Y/n found Biblo was awake and talking to Gandalf, but being the sneaky girl, she was she just listened in to their conversation. 

“Gandalf will you make sure me and (y/n)  both come back, I know she wants to go on an adventure it’s probably her mother shining in her as I am told, but… I am not going.” Gandalf sighed and Y/n walked away head hung low.

 As she walked out of the billiard room, she heard Balin say. “I believe we have lost our burglar, but we have 14 which is better.” She smiled at him and went to sit on the stool by the fire. After staring at it for a couple of minutes all the dwarves came in and started to sing.

Far over the misty mountain cold 

To dungeons deep and caverns old

We must away ere break of day. 

To seek our pale enchanted gold.

Y/n had loved the singing of the dwarves. It was so peaceful and calm. She also remembered this tale, her mother used to sing it when she was younger, and she would always laugh when she tried to do a very deep voice.

The dwarves of yore made mighty spells.

While hammers fell like ringing bells

In place deep, where dark things sleep.

In hallow halls beneath the fells

Bilbo could hear the singing from the billiard room, he was thinking of dragons and fire and gold. Then a fire lit inside him and he wanted to hold a sword instead of a walking stick. Then he shook his head, he was being silly.

For ancient kings and elvish lord

There many a gleaming golden hoard

They shaped a wrought, and light they caught.

To hide in gems on the hilt of sword

On silver necklaces, they strung

The flowering stars on crowns they hung.

The dragon fire in twisted wire

They meshed the light of moon and sun.

Far over the misty mountain cold

To dungeons deep and caverns old

We must away ere break of day.

To find our long-forgotten gold.

By the end of the song, Y/n and Bilbo were fast asleep. Gandalf pulled on a blanket over Bilbo, while Thorin picked up Y/n bridal style and placed her on the sofa in front of the fire, kicking Bofur off it. Then he leaned over the girl's sleeping body and kissed her forehead. 

[khazadspoon]

Day 4 entry two days late because I’m a nervous Nelly but now I’m brave enough to post. Jonah kisses Mr Favor because he is dealing with some internal stuff.

———

Jonah was drunk, or at least well on his way to being drunk. That was the only explanation really. Or at least that’s what Gil told himself in the days after.

He helped the man back to his room with an arm around his waist, smiling softly at the quiet and tuneless humming. Jonah was an odd fellow, keeping to himself for the most part but coming out of his shell when you caught him alone. Gil liked him. He was good at following orders, yes, but he was also sharp eyed and keenly intelligent. But there was something about him that was… different.

Rowdy knew, or he had implied as such, but whatever it was had remained a secret. In time, if the man wanted to tell him, Gil would listen. For now he let it be. Men’s secrets were their own, after all.

He nudged the hotel room door open with his hip and guided Jonah through, smiling a little more at the muttered curse as Jonah stumbled to take off his boots. They were scuffed and well worn. Gil thought they must be very comfortable, soft as butter perhaps. He reached down and helped the man stand up straight.

“Here, let me-”

He stopped mid sentence, his attention caught by Jonah staring up at him with wide, almost grey-blue eyes.

“I think,” Jonah started, his voice breathy, “if it had been you, I might’ve been happy to be a bride, for a while at least.”

Gil blinked at the words. They burrowed into his mind and settled there like dormice.

Then Jonah kissed him.

His lips were soft, softer than they had any right to be. His hip and shoulder were warm under Gil’s hands, his breath a gentle sigh as he stretched up to reach Gil’s lips.

Despite himself, despite how he knew it was a bad idea (a terrible idea, a dangerous idea, liable to get one or both of them badly beaten at least should anyone find out) he found himself kissing back. His hands moved, arms wrapping around the shorter man until they were pressed together, his neck bent so he could kiss him easier, and the shaky moan that came from Jonah’s chest made his gut twist pleasantly. He felt Jonah’s hands on his shoulders, felt the warmth of a tongue against his lips and made a soft sound in his throat. He parted his lips, let Jonah in and tasted the rum they had been drinking, heat blooming somewhere in his stomach.

It had been so long since he had-

And then it was over. Jonah tore himself away and turned to face the bed, his back to Gil and the door. It looked like he was shaking.

“I’m- I’m sorry. I… just go.”

Gil stood for a moment, lips tingling, his hands still halfway raised where he had been holding on to the man. He could see the tremor in Jonah’s hands as he folded his jacket. The urge to step forward, to reach out and take Jonah in his arms again struck him like a mule kick to the stomach.

Jonah whirled, something cold and broken in his eyes. “Please, Mister Favor, go! Leave me!”

Gil shut his mouth, swallowed, and turned away. The door shut behind him with a click that was almost deafening in the quiet hallway. He went back down the stairs and to the saloon across the street, eyes glancing up to the dark window where Jonah’s room was. The lamp was doused. The curtains were shut.

“Everything alright, boss?” Rowdy asked when he walked in and sat down.

“Mm.”

Rowdy didn’t look convinced. Gil didn’t blame him.

“Well if you change your mind, I’m all ears.”

He took the beer from in front of his ramrod and drank deeply, hoping that if he could wash the taste of Jonah from his mouth he could somehow get rid of the warmth of him too, and forget the broken pain in his eyes.

Rowdy didn’t complain as the drink was taken. He waved the bartender over and ordered another, rubbed his cheek with one hand and drummed his fingers on the wooden bar top.

“Somethin’ just happened. I don’t know… it probably ain’t gonna mean anything but-” Gil shook his head and felt a sigh work it’s way up his throat. He felt dazed. “I don’t know.”

Rowdy frowned, his eyes far too keen for a man who had spent the better half of the day in the saloon. “What do you mean?”

“Not here.”

He followed Gil from the saloon, the questions he was obviously holding in clear on his face.

When Gil explained what had happened, the surprise Gil had expected didn’t come.

“I mean, he didn’t exactly hide it, boss.”

Gil stared at his ramrod. “Uhh…”

“You mean, you really didn’t notice?” Rowdy raised an eyebrow. “Come on, boss, you can’t be that dense.”

Had it been any other moment, Gil would have considered smacking Rowdy on the back of the head for the comment. As it was, he just stared down at his boots. “I… I really didn’t notice. But now I know, it’s hard not to.”

They walked through the darkened town and stopped by the stable. Rowdy glanced at him a little nervously, the expression strange on his usually cute face. “I know it ain’t my place, but I feel I gotta say something. You be careful with him. He’s-”

“Older than you,” Gil interrupted with a small smile. “Than me, too, by a few years.”

“Let me finish!”

Gil raised his hands, suitably admonished.

“He ain’t like us. This,” Rowdy gestured to the town around them, “this ain’t his life! He should be in some city sippin’ fancy tea with his pinky- well, his left pinky sticking up.”

“I know, Rowdy. I know.” He rubbed his face, fingers lingering on his lips for a moment. “You coming back to camp?”

Rowdy nodded.

Gil glanced back over his shoulder as the rode away, eyes finding the little hotel room. Hopefully Jonah would sleep the memory away. He wouldn’t, he was sure he’d spend most of the night thinking about it, but… maybe Jonah would.

[funforahermit]

It's funny how being a fan of Rhys Darby has led me to become a fan of a lot of his friends as well. That's never happened to me before, with any of my other crushes, and I don't really know what's different this time?? Maybe it means that I just really have a thing for kiwis, who knows 'xD But let's see -

There's Jonno Roberts of course, absolute comedic GENIUS, pipes like you wouldn't believe, actor par excellence, and sexy as fuck. His on screen chemistry with Rhys is off the charts, even better than Rhys and Taika imo (controversial opinion alert 'xD), but I find that I also enjoy watching Jonno on his own. And the little bit I know of his personal life is endearing as heck, not least because he's a firm trans ally.

David Farrier, irresistable mixture between fearless journalist and complete mess! Dark Tourist, Tickled, Mister Organ - those are all deeply fascinating documentaries, and I can never decide if I want him to tell me more about the deepest darkest secrets of humanity or if I want him to get the hell out of there and stay away from danger for god's sake 'xD Lately I've been going through his podcast Flightless Bird, and just... everything he talks about is really interesting and compelling. And yes, the accent helps, I admit that. Also, bonus points for being a fellow bisexual 🤟

Jemaine Clement!!! God he's hot. Like is it just me or is he just..... SO hot. Like damn. I'm sure I could also talk at length about his talent, but I am kind of distracted. Fuck.

Bret McKenzie: I adore his solo album Songs Without Jokes, I listened to it so many times when it came out, and now all the songs are part of my permanent playlist. I love them to bits.

The last two together, obviously, are the best duo ever and I can't get enough of their songs or their comedy.

Steve Wrigley! Now I'm not gonna lie, I'm not the biggest fan of his stand-up and for the longest time I couldn't understand why Rhys would insist on touring with him and make him his opening act all the time. But I get it now. I've grown to love him for the amazing friend that he is, and for looking after Rhys so perfectly - even if some of his jokes make me go a bit :/ (The Ohakune airport story is hilarious though!)

Dan Schreiber - NOT a kiwi! 'xD Amazing brain, amazing way with words, amazing spirit of adventure, amazing sense of humour. One of these days I'm gonna listen to all his other podcasts (beside the Cryptid Factor I mean), just haven't found the time yet.

I feel like this is an uncomplete list, but I gotta go and do some real life stuff now.. Just wanted to say that I love them!! And I've got Rhys to thank for knowing them at all.

[cozza-frenzy]

Fanfic: A La Carte (Part 1: Appetizer)

It’s a big part of what makes us human; believing we have a soul that needs to be fed, too. So this one has been in the works for a little longer than the others! Not only has my Discord “job” been keeping me VERY busy, but I also wasn’t sure where to go with this, exactly... but after seeing a certain art post yesterday, I know now... and I also know it needs to be a 2-parter. Yep, this one’s LONG, folks. And it’s about food! I’d like to give my thanks once again to @chronicsheepdrawing​ for their wonderful designs and autistic character headcanons. This is going to be less angst, more fluff this time, so content warnings are a little more sparse! May we all experience moments of Autistic Joy like those found in this story. Happy Autism Acceptance Month! Part 3 of a series: Anything Not Saved A Perfect Moment

CONTENT WARNINGS: Body Dysphoria (Not Gender Related), Messy Eating, References to Sensory Deprivation, Mild Sensory Overload

So whose birthday do you think it is this time? Ah, yes, I suppose it DOES say “Happy Celebration To Whomever”, doesn’t it? It might not even BE a birthday. It might even be celebrating all of the incredibly productive work we’ve been doing! Gosh, imagine that! FINALLY some recognition for all those years of- …And you’re gone. Of course. No doubt you have more important things to do than talk to the likes of me. Honestly, I don’t even know WHY I bother - I swear, it’s almost like some sort of COMPULSION! Just rambling on, and on, and on, and… oh dear, and I’m even doing it when there’s nobody to listen… …Hm. Actually, come to think of it… I wonder if he got the memo… ? 427? Ah, Employee 427? Hello? …Stanley, it’s ME - open the door! Oh, there you are Stanley! I do hope I wasn’t interrupting anything; oh, you were waiting for-? Well you… you didn’t HAVE to, you do realize that, right?? You were really just going to sit in your office, pushing your buttons, until I just HAPPENED to call out to you? I mean for heaven’s sake, Stanley! Don’t you want to take the initiative for even ONCE in your career? It could result in you getting promoted! Or possibly- well, probably more than likely, fired. But aren’t some things worth the- …What do you MEAN you already got one?? I just BROUGHT you a- Oh. Oh Stanley, you-you didn’t! You didn’t… heeheehee, really!? Well come onl, come on, get inside, quick! Shh! SHH!! Hahahahaaa, I can’t believe it!! I can’t BELIEVE you-what? NO, I’m not going to TELL! Gosh, what do you take me for, Stanley?? I mean you’re one of our most valuable employees; who ELSE could push buttons like you can, I ask you?? No-one, that’s who! Though I must say, haha, I never would have pegged YOU as the secret Bad Boy of the office! Mister Employee Four-Twenty-Seven, pilfering an extra slice of cake from under everyone’s collective nose! They’ll never suspect a thing! Hahaha…! …Oh come now, stop that, we’re not going to get CAUGHT. And even if we did, it’s probably my fault, anyway. Ugh, I must be a truly terrible influence on you, Stanley, I really must… it’s that horrid little rebellious streak in me. Probably why I never seem to get anywhere in this bloody office… Ah? Oh thank you Stanley, I’d love some coffee. Little more sugar if you could- yes, and- oh, you remembered! Ah yes, that’s lovely, I… oh, um, are you sure? I know how much everyone looks forward to our scheduled Standard Issue Office Sheet Cake, but you took that fair and - oh GO ON then, you absolute rascal! Since you’ve already cut it and everything… heh. Happy Whatever-It-Is, Stanley… —————————————————————————————————- This is a story about a man named Stanley. Today - if there even is such a thing as a ‘day’ any more - Stanley is in the Employee Break Room. A place he’d stopped by countless times previously, just to admire; the gray walls and dark blue carpet as comforting and familiar as they ever were. The couch; just as soft, yet firm enough to encourage the good sitting posture that was vital for employees. The whole place still smelling vaguely of printer ink, paper, and coffee. It was quiet now, given that all of Stanley’s coworkers had mysteriously vanished, leaving him alone in the office. Or, well… not quite alone. Not any more. Next to Stanley, on the couch, sat his Narrator. Some time ago, they’d had a fateful - and completely intentional, absolutely no mistakes were made - encounter in The Memory Zone. And since then, he’d decided to stick around. It just felt far more comfortable than unloading his model; it gave him something to anchor himself to, something that reminded him he was real. And all things considered, it wasn’t that bad. Even if he was still slowly learning to tolerate his… eh… he twisted the words around in his head, tossing aside epithets like “silly-looking” and “bizarre”, completely ignoring “ugly” and “monstrous” for a change, before finally settling on something. Unusual form. Yes, that will do for now… Ahem. Anyway; overall, The Narrator was, at least, willing to tolerate the unusual situation he’d found himself in. Since then, he’d found there was one thing more important to him than how he felt… and that was how Stanley, his protagonist, felt. After all; without him and without his co-operation, there was no story. There was no Stanley Parable without Stanley. So of course, as his Narrator, he couldn’t have him become lonely or depressed. Especially since the last time the Parable ended, The Narrator could have sworn they’d finally found freedom… They’d finally stepped outside; onto real grass and real dirt! Surrounded by real trees, under a real sky! On his very life, he could have sworn that they had... and yet… like a dream, or perhaps a burning memory, curling up in the flames like a discarded photograph, they’d found themselves back here. In the office. Right where they’d started. Perhaps they’d made a mistake somewhere… Stanley moved his hands, and the Narrator glanced downward. No, wait, he wasn’t saying anything; he was just fidgeting. And, he noticed, Stanley’s head had been resting against his shoulder - but it seemed from his half-laying, half-sprawled position on the couch, he’d slid down until his ear now rested against the Narrator’s stomach. Something that - the Narrator now realized - had probably been intentional. It was a comfort thing for him, apparently. Something about the liquid sloshing around in there helped him calm down. And perhaps it was the weight of Stanley’s head, or the soft sound of his breathing, or the gentle touch of his button-calloused fingers, but the Narrator couldn’t help but feel calmer too. It made things seem more… alright. Not entirely alright; not just after what they’d both been through, but more alright in himself. Like maybe he didn’t hate this body quite as much as he had previously. It certainly seemed to help keep his thoughts from going to much darker places... Stanley moved his hands again. The Narrator heaved a huge sigh. “Stanley, if you’re going to say something, just say it. I know you were disappointed with how our story ended, but we can’t try again if we just sit here and stew in our own failure… slow-cooking in regret… a crock-pot of misery and hopelessness, with a side dish of pointlessness, and a bitter-sweet ‘we’re never going to get out but at least we’re still here’ sauce… ” The Narrator’s words caught in his throat, and he stopped himself before he choked on them. No, no, he wasn’t going to let this get to him! This was his story! Nobody could tell him how to feel about it except him! He wasn’t about to backslide into utterly crushing despair… No, not him… definitely not… <Do you miss being human?> “W-what??” The Narrator boggled - he’d retired, undefeated, from Professional Boggling, but still boggled casually when the mood called for it - and looked down at Stanley. “You… “ He wondered for a moment how Stanley had remembered, but… of course he had. Back in the Memory Zone, they’d talked for hours, perhaps even longer, and of course sooner or later, everything had to come out. The fact that The Narrator still had memories of being human, once. Memories of having a real face, with makeup he’d painstakingly applied with real hands, that in turn had real nails, painted in office-appropriate colors. And how he couldn’t remember what he looked like, or what his name had been, but- “...You already know how I feel about that, Stanley. I can’t go back.” Somehow, the thought of returning to that time terrified him. Slowly, something had been coming together, at the core of the shattered funhouse mirror that made up his memories. Something that stared into his soul with a white-hot, searing sense of wrongness. Something that gave him no choice but to look away. I can’t go back to what I was before. I can’t. <I know that.> Stanley signed; taking a moment to sit up, he paused to think about what he was going to sign, as he often did. <But you really don’t miss anything?> “Stanley-” The Narrator started with a warning tone. Stanley certainly liked to push buttons; and apparently not only did he not know when to quit, but his obsession with button-pushing also applied to pushing other people’s buttons. But The Narrator couldn’t deny; the look on Stanley’s face held no malice. It was the same way he looked at The Narrator’s hands, when he ran his thumb over the line of stitches. The same way he watched the liquid inside his transparent globe of a belly slosh back and forth, and the way the light reflected off his plastic eyes. He remembered when Stanley had noticed his tie resembled The Stanley Parable Adventure Line™, and the biggest smile had crossed his face as his fingers traced its shape and felt its silky texture, wide eyes drinking in its bright color. Then they’d both just sat for a while, and reminisced about how they’d teamed up for the mis-adventure dubbed The Confusion Ending... It was pure, simple curiosity on Stanley’s face. The Narrator felt his cheeks flush involuntarily; it seemed he was still inexplicably fascinated by everything about him. And that, apparently, included what was inside his head. <I was just asking because…> Stanley hesitated again, looking away nervously. <Because you were talking about food. Do you miss it?> “Talking about-? Wait, was I - oh! Oh, Stanley… ” The Narrator laughed a little; “That was a metaphor! I wasn’t literally talking about those things, I was simply describing-” Stanley shook his head vigorously; waving his hands. Oh no. He wanted him to stop talking. The Narrator’s words had apparently got him thinking, and now he was practically buzzing with questions, a torrent of them starting to spill out like angry hornets from a disturbed nest. <Do you ever get hungry?> “I, ah… ” Did he feel hungry? He’d never really thought about it, but come to think of it… no. He’d never felt hungry; not once since he’d woken up like this. No urge to eat meant he’d never even tried to, though he had no reason to believe he couldn’t… and what was equally strange was he’d had no urge to drink, either. Or sleep! Or - well, this one was convenient, at least - use the facilities. And yet somehow it had never crossed his mind that this was unusual at all-? The Narrator wondered for a moment if it was simply the way his body was now; transformed from a mere human into some kind of immortal and ever-moving construct, perhaps by a Higher Power with a twisted sense of humor. But then… that couldn’t be true, could it? Because now that he thought about it; not only had he never felt hungry or thirsty since The Parable began, but neither had Stanley. But Stanley - dear, simple Stanley - seemingly hadn’t noticed anything was amiss. And he was still persisting in asking questions. <Do you still eat?> “I don’t have to.” The Narrator said curtly, prickling with defensiveness. “Why is this so important to you, exactly?” Dodging the Narrator’s question like a protagonist from a much more exciting genre would dodge bullets, Stanley was already tilting his head quizzically, locking and loading  yet another question. He squinted, like he was trying to make sense of something. The Narrator squinted back. The questions were already annoying him, but there was very little that irritated him more than being ignored, and he was about to launch into a lengthy rant when Stanley pointed to his face and asked... <Where is your mouth?> “What!?” The Narrator huffed, immediately caught off-guard by such a ridiculous question. “I mean, really?? Goodness, Stanley, I can’t believe you have to ask that! Obviously it’s right here!” He pointed to his mouth. Stanley just looked hopelessly confused. “Ugh, don’t look at me like that... you look like a puppy with a headache.” The Narrator sighed, rolling his eyes a little as he relented. Evidently, this wasn’t going to stop unless he did something to stop it. “Alright, just give me a moment. This should put an end to all these bloody questions… ” He reached into his memories. No, not all of them were smashed, broken, piled up in ways that only sort-of made sense like some kind of junk yard - oh no, not at all! Events, people, faces, things that had happened when he’d used to be human, anything that was complicated was a mess… but memories of things? Ah yes, things! Things were simple. He could handle things; hell, he’d even fabricated an entire Memory Zone out of things! Things were great! In fact, things were fantastic. There was no way things could possibly end badly. So of course, taking a memory of a simple chocolate chip cookie and manifesting it was hardly any effort at all; Stanley jumped a little as it appeared in The Narrator’s hand with a small ‘pop’. “Since you’re so utterly fixated on this for some reason, Stanley - allow me to demonstrate.” He took a bite. ————————————————————————————————— Meanwhile; a man named Stanley wasn’t entirely sure what he’d just seen happen. Nor was he entirely sure what he was still seeing, right in front of him, right now, as the Narrator took a second bite of the cookie he’d just created out of seemingly nothing, with the mouth he didn’t seem to have. But he was chewing all the same, complete with crunching sounds as if he had teeth… and there was a distant look crossing his face for a moment, as if he was taking a moment to taste it… “Mm, that is… my, that is actually rather good… ” said The Narrator, his voice slightly muffled from a mouthful of cookie. “In fact it's very good - I think perhaps I’ve outdone myself!” He brought the dessert level with his face, and - again! - a big bite suddenly disappeared. Stanley couldn’t help but stare. Not just because of how unreal it looked, but because The Narrator looked… happy. Very happy. His whole body seemed to have relaxed; and as he took another bite he actually made small, happy sounds, one of his glove-hands touching his own cheek as he rocked back and forth on his heels. “Mm… mm! Oh, I wasn’t expecting… Stanley, I know I made this, but this really tastes home-made! It’s simply del-i-cious!“ - munch, crunch - “So crisp! And chewy in the center… dark chocolate chips, a little sprinkle of salt… my gosh, it’s divine!” Stanley watched as The Narrator… licked the chocolate off his fingers? Somehow he knew that was what he was doing, even though he didn’t see a tongue. Trying to make sense of it, as the man pulled a napkin from his pocket and cleaned himself off, was starting to make his head feel weird… “Oh, Stanley! You simply must try one!” The Narrator said eagerly, offering a cookie with his other hand - he actually laughed a little, the experience having made him almost giddy. “Go ahead, it’s not going to bite you!” Stanley hadn’t even heard a ‘pop’ this time and yet here it was - another cookie, being held between glove-fingers, right under his nose. He looked at it for a moment; just like the other cookie, it had come from seemingly nowhere. But the smell of vanilla and brown sugar was real enough to make his mouth water, and the chocolate chips almost seemed to glisten under the office lights, like they were just slightly melted… “Oh come on, Stanley! I make an entire Memory Zone for you to walk through, and a bloody cookie is what makes you stand there, mouth agape??” The Narrator snapped, irritated by Stanley’s continued hesitation. “This is quite the treat, I’ll have you know!” Stanley carefully reached out his hand. “Don’t make me change my mind, because I will scoff the entire thing if you don’t.” Stanley snatched the cookie like it might run away from him and took a big bite. Immediately, Stanley exhaled through his nose; yes, now he understood. Now he felt that tingling from his very core; that rapidly rising tide of joy! The cookie was warm, and sweet, and its perfectly crispy edge practically melted on his tongue like buttery cotton candy. The crunchy exterior and soft, chewy interior were a symphony of textures. The chunky, bittersweet dark chocolate was a rich, heavy bass. And popping here and there to balance out all that sugar were little crystalline flakes of sea salt, that came in a flash and vanished like falling stars… He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a cookie this good. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a cookie. And now he desperately wanted a glass of milk to go with it. Stanley gestured frantically at the Narrator, hardly able to form a coherent sign. “A glass of-? Oh of course, what was I thinking!” Another pop, and there was suddenly a glass of milk in his hand. Suppressing his excitement for just a moment, Stanley steeled his nerves and sipped, letting the ice-cold drink contrast the gentle heat... and sighed. It tasted like how a warm blanket felt in the night air; his whole body wrapped in a comforting, nostalgic hug, made all the sweeter from the chill that lurked just on the edge. “Stanley, are you alright? You’re not allergic to something, are you?” The Narrator asked, squinting at him. “You’ve got a funny look on your face… ” Stanley couldn’t answer. Stanley was frozen in place. Stanley felt like he might cry. Stanley was unbelievably, overwhelmingly happy. Stanley desperately wanted to stim; to flap his hands out of sheer, overwhelming excitement, wrap his arms around himself and rock back and forth as his heart fluttered in his chest… but obviously he couldn’t, not with a cookie in one hand and a drink in the other. Then a particularly mischievous thought crept its way into his head, very softly, on tiptoe… and Stanley bit his lip. He shouldn’t. He really, really shouldn’t. He did. Stanley tore into the cookie like he was starving to the point of near-death; alternating between it and the milk in desperate gulps, crumbs falling between his fingers. He devoured the snack without any regard for table manners, office etiquette, or anything vaguely resembling human dignity - and he relished every single precious, visceral second of it, ending his frenzy with an utterly contented sigh. He stimmed gently, touching the backs of his own hands, enjoying the moment... “You, ah, must have been… hungry.” Then Stanley turned towards The Narrator. The smile fell from his face. And it may as well have shattered into pieces on the floor, from what he saw. The Narrator looked… pale. Almost like he was about to faint. Almost like he was expecting to get the worst news he’d ever heard in his life; news which would break his heart in such a way it would never heal right, and he’d carry this moment’s phantom pain for a lifetime. And Stanley, somehow, could tell clear as day what he was thinking… much like The Narrator seemed able to read his thoughts sometimes… In his obsessive quest to get his perfect ending, had he let his protagonist starve? <NO, NO!> Stanley shook his head, waving his hands in protest. He hadn’t been hungry, not at all! He knew he hadn’t been hungry in a long time and that had never really bothered him! After all, as The Narrator’s very important and heroic Protagonist, he’d had no shortage of very important and heroic things to do! But… Looking at the remaining chocolate stains on his shaking hands, he couldn’t deny, something else inside him had been absolutely ravenous. Something that had been so, so hungry, and was so, so thankful to be finally fed. With that hunger finally sated, there was a warm feeling curled up cozily inside him, like a purring cat on his chest. …It was almost like… “Like when you put your hand on me for the first time.” mused The Narrator, distantly. “You’re not hungry, but you haven’t tasted anything in hell knows how long… ” <And you haven’t, either!>, signed Stanley, a desperate, sympathetic look on his face. <Didn’t you ever make anything for yourself??> “I suppose the thought just never really occurred to me…” The Narrator sighed dejectedly, his face still a picture of regret. “I mean, I’m honestly surprised I even remembered how food tasted at all, but… knowing you were deprived of that joy… ?” Uh-oh. Stanley knew that look on The Narrator’s face; he only got that look when he was about to have another ‘crisis’, remembering or realizing something awful that sent him into a spiral of self-loathing and hopelessness. Sometimes he’d even ‘unload his model’ and disappear for what felt like hours, leaving nothing but the distant sound of sobbing; or worse, a horrible, yawning chasm of silence. Stanley reached out, gently taking the Narrator’s glove-hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb; just like The Narrator did for him, when he felt overwhelmed. He just wanted him to be alright, please just be alright, but those big plastic eyes still looked so sad... “Oh, Stanley… you didn’t deserve that… ” The Narrator closed his eyes. He wasn’t crying, but Stanley listened to the sound and speed of his breathing, trying to gauge his mood, his emotions, trying to somehow figure this out and make him be alright again. Somehow, he had to try to take The Narrator’s focus off the idea that he’d hurt him… he needed to… he needed to sign something to snap him out of it, maybe? It was worth trying, if it meant even a slim chance of breaking the terrible, slowly rising tension. <Can you make more?> Not to mention the anxiety he himself was struggling to keep at bay; that maybe this time would be the time The Narrator wouldn’t come back. That he’d be alone again. And that it would be his fault somehow. “I… wait, what was that? Didn’t quite catch-” Stanley smiled excitedly; The Narrator had his eyes open again - and what was more, the stars had somehow aligned and fate had weaved its threads to grant him an idea! <You can make anything! You made the Memory Zone! You made the Baby Game! You even made me fly through space! So different kinds of food should be easy, right?> A cheeky little smirk crossed his face. <...Or is it too hard for you?> “WHAT?? Too HARD?!” The Narrator huffed, getting so riled up it almost looked like the liquid in his stomach was bubbling, boiling like a kettle. “Too hard indeed! What, do you think a vast, sprawling imagination like mine is restricted to mere snacks? That the depths of my wildest dreams contain no more than simple, infantile finger foods!?” Stanley relaxed his shoulders. Ah, much better; all he’d had to do was push the right buttons, and there was no more cringing, shrinking, or apologizing! The loud, proud, pompous voice that he adored was back! Though he’d have hardly called a chocolate chip cookie like that one ‘infantile’... “I mean after all, this is my story! And even if it is irrelevant to our ultimate goal, well, isn’t the journey just as important as the end? Is it not important to let our heroes breathe? To let them laugh, and love, and feast??” Stanley watched excitedly; The Narrator was gesturing energetically, pointing his finger in the air. He’d learned from their time together - that is, actually together, now that he could actually see him - that meant he was on a roll. And that always led somewhere interesting. “Well we shall feast! In fact, we shall have a veritable buffet!” Stanley snorted and bit his lip as he tried to keep a straight face; he’d pronounced it ‘boo-fay’, with a great amount of dramatic flair, which tickled him terribly. But he allowed him to continue… “Yes, a collection of culinary concoctions and creative cuisine! I see it now… there’ll be appetizers that delight and entrance! Entrees and side dishes, rivaling the banquets of kings! Desserts and patisserie to make you weep sugary tears of joy! Cocktails! A cheese course! Little things on sticks! Yes, yes, it’ll be fantastic! Stupendous, even! In fact, it’ll be-” …Until Stanley bravely put one hand on The Narrator’s shoulder, his gaze suddenly steely and determined. This could be his only chance he’d ever get for The Narrator to go along with an idea of his in its entirety. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it now - and he did, signing with his free hand. “A picnic in the Memory Zone… ?”

[luckyluan]

CHAPTER 3.2: THE STAKE OUT

Antwan rummaged through the wicker basket and all manner of weapons spilled over its chipped edges. Maxim jumped back and raised his hands in mock surrender. 

“Like I haven’t shot you before...” Antwan grinned. 

“Only with your love, darlin’.” Maxim replied. 

He knelt on the extravagant blanket and pulled two immense handguns from the picnic basket. Maxim inspected his black Sig Sauer and inspected the clip. 

“Did you pack coppers?” Maxim asked. 

Antwan’s index finger shot into the air and Maxim held his breath. His heartbeat quickened and his mouth ran dry as his next words tumbled from his mouth. 

“Ant,” Maxim squeaked. “We need to have a truth moment.” 

His husband ignored him. Antwan slowly curled his index finger down to his palm and turned his ear toward him. His eyes never left the road. 

“I--I did a job...last year. 

Maxim blanched when his husband spun around. Antwan pushed himself to his knees. His eyes were dangerously bright, and Maxim scooted out of striking distance as he searched for words. 

“Breathe, babe. Use your words.” Maxim encouraged. 

“Don’t. You. Tell me. To breathe!” Antwan hissed. “You took a job. YOU TOOK A JOB! Maxim Carter Sharpe, you need...you need to...UGH!” 

Antwan flopped down on the warm blanket and Maxim wasted no time. He sidled up behind his husband and leaned his forehead against the crown of his head. He used a nimble finger to stroke Antwan’s neck. 

“You mad at me?” he purred. 

“Max, I will shoot you.” I will shoot you and I will not miss.” Antwan threatened. “We were out, bro. We were out and life was good! It was--” 

“--boring, Antwan!” Our lives are fucking boring.” Maxim interjected. “I love us. I love the kids—even Berry’s crazy ass, but our life is not as adventurous as it used to be...when it was just you and I.” 

“That’s because we’re not kids anymore, Max. We don’t get to galivant around the world whenever we want. We made commitments—vows! We have responsibilities. You gave me all your secrets years ago? Bullshit. Did you even think about what you were risking?” Antwan spat. 

“Yes, I weighed the cost. I always do.” Maxim answered. 

“Let’s say that is true, Max. Were our children not weight enough to stop you from hunting? Was I not enough?” Antwan continued. 

Maxim said nothing. He shoved his hands in his pockets and listened to his husband’s voice echo off the marble floors. 

“You let me sit here and spin my wheels for half an hour before you told me.” Antwan said. “Your secrets—the ones you claim I already knew—ruined our anniversary.” 

“In my defense, babe, we were being shot at.” Maxim defended. 

“Oh, please, nigga! You proposed to me on bended knee under a hail of gunfire. You almost got us shot then too.” Antwan bellowed. “I had to say yes just to get you off the ground.” 

“You had to say yes?” murmured Maxim. 

“You know what I mean. Do not twist my words, Maxim Carter Sharpe. That is not an excuse to do a job and keep me in the dark. You slept next to me knowing you compromised us. You put my children in harm’s way.” he breathed. 

“I’m sorry, Antwan. I’m sorry. What do you need from me to make this better? We can’t fall apart right now.” Maxim begged. 

“Only ‘cause your trigger-happy ass didn’t leave us much choice. You know what I need from you, Mister Sharpe? I need you to sit your ass on this ridiculously expensive blanket and watch my six. Do you think you can do that breaking any more of our marriage vows?” 

Antwan glowered at him, and Maxim hung his head. He did not want to be this type of man—the man his father was, but here he was acting just like him. 

“Look, Ant--” Maxim started. 

“--No talking. I can’t stand to hear your fucking voice right now.” Antwan chided. “Fuck, this blanket is gorgeous!”