#this is all your fault warwick. all your fault!!!

[britneyshakespeare]

I love that part in 2.6 of 3H6 where the Yorkists win the battle and are planning the coronation for Edward and Edward is like "ok George, you can be Duke of Clarence and Richard, you'll be Duke of Gloucester" and Richard is like "uhhhh Duke of Gloucester is kinda cursed, can George and I switch dukedoms?" And Warwick is like "oh that's silly, just be Duke of Gloucester" thus creating Richard, Duke of Gloucester who is most definitely the most accurst Duke of Gloucester of them all

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

I keep seeing people worship Christian Linke for some shit he’s said and ignore the fact this man is antisemetic and heavily insensitive towards non white and straight characters HE IS NOT YOUR ALLY

I genuinely think people just don't know how much of a shitty person he is. Seriously, that dude was quite possibly the worst person to put in charge of a project like Arcane. Here are just some of things he's said that you should know of:

• Linke said the death of every character in Arcane was a direct result of their own actions : "Every single big beat in the end with our characters, whether it’s a death or not, is a consequence of their choices."

So, I'd like you to explain to me how Vander's death was his fault, because I don't quite remember him agreeing to becoming Warwick. Also, maybe having the three characters portrayed as suicidal in the show (Jinx, Viktor, and Jayce) all die, and go on to say it was just the consequences of their own actions... isn't a good message?

• Linke has declared Viktor as asexual on his own, with the sole purpose of discouraging JayVik shippers : "There is a love. I don't think it's romantic [...]. To me, Viktor was always asexual".

Now, the issue here isn't having an asexual character, its having chosen VIKTOR, one of the most important characters for disabled rep in animation and popular media, to be asexual. I've went on and on about how infantalizing that is to disabled/chronically ill fans, because we NEVER get to be perceived as sexual beings. Having a body that's visibly different from the norm, or limits on certain abilities, turns off people, makes them uncomfortable. That's why you just never see a sexually active or a sex positive disabled character on screen. That's why, in all his "sexy" skins in LoL, Viktor is given a six pack, has no visible marks of illness on his body (scars, fatigue lines), and has no medical brace or crutch.

Viktor was always intended to have a sexual swagger in season 1 ("this isnt my bedroom") and that was EXTREMELY important to a lot of us in the community. I've seen a very similar response from the asexual community as well, who feel like Linke is using their identity and experience as a shield from fan interractions he dislikes, and without actual care for what it means to the characters. Don't fall for rep that isn't actually meant to represent you.

• Linke has directly and openly compared the Zaun and Piltover conflict to the left and right in the United States, and put both sides on equal moral footing : "If you’re asking me whether we were inspired by two sides of one nation who are incapable of even talking to each other anymore at a certain point, yes."

So, I don't think I need to explain how bad this is. Remember that Piltover is the city of wealth and enforcers, and that they've gazed the district of Zaun, dumped chemicals around their water suplies, directed brutal and deadly repressions of civil uprising and protest, offered no financial support to the struggling communities of addicts, disabled people, and orphans, refused Zaun any implication or decisional seat in the city political life, AND THAT'S JUST ON TOP OF MY HEAD. Now, think about what that means with the USA politics comparison, and the idea that they should "just listen to each other". Yeah.

Now, if you know me a bit, you know I live in Canada, so maybe you think this doesn't affect me personally, or that it doesn't affect you because you live outside the US. To that, I want to tell you about a neighbour of mine, who lives on the street parallel to my house, and this truck he owns. The truck has a whole lot of fun stickers and flags on it: the quotes "TRUMP ARREST TRUDEAU" and "CANADIANS FOR TRUMP", the israeli flag, the confederate flag, christian crosses, the blue lives matter flag, and an anti BLM sticker. Now, I'm sure theres more cool things, I've just never gotten close enough to look at the smaller stickers and ornaments because, as a very openly bi arabic woman, I'm scared to death of that man. But maybe I should just hear him out, right?

Tldr, do not think that the state of american politics doesn’t affect the rest of the world.

• Linke has called the people of Zaun and specifically Silco "Svengali", which is an antisemitic name that implies Jewish people are crooks / dirty / thiefs / sexual degenerates. There's a great post on Tumblr that goes more into detail about this (https://www.tumblr.com/endearing-dalliance/769693230696677376/another-blow-against-arcane-anti-semitism?source=share). I'd just like to insist on how bad calling someone "svengali" is. His character was used in many pieces of propaganda in Nazi Germany to picture the "Evil Jew", and to dehumanize Jewish communities by portraying them as ressembling Satan (forked beard, can do unholy hypnosis, targets women...). Linke could have chosen ANY other term to talk about Zaunites, the oppressed community getting gazed by a police state, but he chose that one. That was not an unconscious decision.

I'm a firm believer that it is possible to separate art from artist/studio/company, and to appreciate something while still being aware the person behind it is not a great individual. However, if you're defending all the decisions made in season 2, these are things you HAVE to be aware of.

[loonypsychicchild]

Vi vs. Change (A Character Analysis)

I have seen some people finding vi’s inability to change removing from her character amd that is a valid way of seeing her character but as I respect everyone’s opinions I feel like that is one of the things that is most nuanced about her.

Think about it she has been in prison since she was a young teenager, went there in the worst conditions and ever since than world has been stagnant for her. She couldn’t know anything about her family so bet she could do was hope that all was good and everyone was as good as she remembered them to be. She is the ultimate case of being stuck in nostalgia and that is for survival reasons. If all of you family died, while you were already ready to sacrifice yourself to protect them multiple times, but ended up not being able to save them and being protected by one of your family, your father which caused his death. You realize this was the mistake of your sister and react poorly due to trauma, and as far as you know you might have lost her the moment you left her in that alley and couldn’t go back, because of the situation or because she is a young girl in the dangerous Zaun. The only way Vi could have stayed sane was hoping that everyone that is not dead is alright or could be saved. She is dependent on this to not to hate herself to death, not because that would be her fault but because she sees it as such as she takes responsibility and she protects those that are close to her.

Moreover, remember one of the last words Vander said to her, you’ve got a good heart kid, don’t ever loose it, which means don’t change the way you are you are good like this. This is one of the last requests that her father made to her and for Vi her family is everything, you know she is not gonna change. And due to this she also has started seeing change as bad maybe. Because in season 1 act 1 she was the one who wanted rebellion and change, she wanted to fight. Then she has seen what rebelling costed her, just like Vander said it would, and that naturally made her believe and listen to his advice later on. This belief of to protect people you shouldn’t change really affected her and that is how she has been more diplomatic and got along with Piltovians like Cait or enforcers in a similar way to Vander did. Because when you can’t risk losing all that you have in a radical change like rebellion than you use diplomacy, give up a little bit to make peace, and in return the other party gives up a bit and everyone leaves the table not maybe better but not worse. This character of her explains why she has reacted her relationship with Caitlyn as such, the sacrifice of her ideals to get along and protect people as well as hoping others wouldn’t have to. At the end Vi changes when necessary to protect others from changing.

Also her belief against change or accepting/letting others change was what made Vi believe Powder was still there and not give up on her. So it was also necessary for her to save her sister and keep pm fighting even when Jinx became a criminal. This is also why she also does not give up on Ekko even when he captures her and acts antagonistic. This is how she can be caring and loving, Vi remembers the person that was and sees the parts of them inside the person. This was also how she could easily remember Vander in that monster that he became even though she has not seen anything but him being dangerous. In this example also she had learned to accept change, instead of fighting accepting and hugging the monster to protect what is left inside that hasn’t changed (Jinx and Warwick). Ekko has the opposite character arc, believing everyone changed in season 1 only to realize there is still some that have stayed same in many ways like how Vi was still his protective, good hearted older sister and how there was still some Powder left inside Jinx. Bothe Ekko and Vi are therefore going though character arcs that is more about making peace with change and still seeing the parts of the people that has not changed all that much.

These are just same angles why, Vi’s character arc is fighting with change and then accepting to help other people keep their good essence hence allowing them to not change the good hearts that they have, protect and nurture it which is the very essence of her own character, by remembering the person inside and using diplomacy, giving up and gaining something to enable peace.

[acircusfullofdemons]

DAYDREAMTOBER 2024 [30 / HAUNTED]

╭──→ 💭 ──  DAYDREAMTOBER 2024

│ 🌫️ PROMPT ❞ 30 / haunted

│ 🌫️ PARAS ❞ emory warwick, myriam travers, delilah warwick

│ 🌫️ PARACOSM ❞ eternal labyrinth [phantasmagoria — the arcane files]

│ 🌫️ WORD COUNT ❞ 778

╰──────────── 🤍

Short little thing about Emory and how RoseWood haunts him as much as he haunts it. Not proof read or edited </3

RoseWood Manor is haunted. Anyone who spent more than five minutes in the place could figure that out. Those who stayed longer, the more permanent residents — one would be correct in assuming that they were the reason for most of the manor’s haunts. 

Majority were only Ghosts. Poor Souls who somehow died in the manor, forever wandering its halls in search of an exit. 

Others were stronger: Poltergeists. None knew more fame than Myriam — Mary, as the public now knew her. Haunting mirrors instead of the halls, she quickly earned a reputation for being violent, with those that summoned her ending up with gruesome deaths. 

Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary. Emory couldn’t help but chant her name every time he walked past a mirror. Not that he would ever say it out loud, of course. Talking to Myriam did nothing but upset him. And even if he did wish to speak with her, finding a mirror his height was exceedingly difficult. He often had to jump onto the bathroom counter or find someone’s vanity to check his fur. Neither of which he did often. Not anymore. 

When he first got turned into a cat, all those centuries ago, Emory was near obsessed with gazing at his reflection. Hours were spent just looking at himself, dissecting his appearance detail by detail. His whole body soft and squishy. Far more flexible — that took some time to get used to. As did walking on all fours. Going from a human to cat body was…an adjustment, to say the least. Now, Emory found himself with the opposite problem: if he were to gain a human body now, he’d have a hard time refamiliarizing himself with all the bells and whistles that form would contain. 

But his newfound enjoyment of mirrors came to a close end. Like all things, it was Myriam’s fault. One too many times has she caught Emory off guard whilst he was trying to groom himself…Such things were better left to someone more qualified. 

Unfortunately such a person was hard to find due to RoseWood’s ever-revolving residents. Daniel did what he could, as did Richard on the rare occasion he visited. 

But there was always Delilah. 

His dear little sister also haunted the manor’s grounds. Emory tried to avoid her, though unlike Myriam it was not out of hatred: it was out of guilt. He couldn’t protect her. He was too reckless, and thanks to his actions, his sister was killed. 

Emory could never decide if her memory issues were a blessing or curse. 

A blessing, for she didn’t have to remember the pain of dying. Didn’t have to remember Myriam’s betrayal of them both. Didn’t have to remember how Emory failed her. 

A curse, for he couldn’t talk to her. She did not remember who he was, not fully, and couldn’t comprehend what she meant to him. She no longer remembered their parents, what it was like when they died. How Emory tried to care for her afterwards. 

There were rare times where Delilah would say something, do something, or even just had this look to her — and for a moment it felt like his sister was with him again. 

But then the moment would pass, and it was just another Ghost looking at the strange cat inhabiting RoseWood Manor.  

And yet, despite all of this, she still sang while she brushed his fur, just like she did when he let her help him get ready for church. 

If someone had told Emory back then that he would be living in a haunted house as a cat, he wouldn’t have believed them. Not that he would be blamed. A haunted house is one thing. Being turned into a cat due to your own arrogance was another. Combining the two seemed impossible. Here he was, however, amongst the poor lost Souls that were now forced to live within the manor’s walls. 

Emory supposed that he, too, could be considered a lost Soul, in a way. He was no longer in his original body. The manor was the closest thing to a home he had now. There was no family to mourn him — Delilah hardly remembered and Myriam took great pleasure in boasting about what she had done to him. The only difference between him and the other residents was that he’s a cat, free to leave RoseWood’s grounds in search of something better. 

Though Emory knew — as did all the Spirits — that he would wind up back within the manor’s walls sooner or later. He could leave for as long as he’d like, but he’d always haunt RoseWood. 

There was nowhere else he could truly go, after all. 

[graycats-arcane-blog]

Lightcannon Week, Day 7 Fic!

Prompt: Camping

Title: Take a Hike (chapter 2)

Rating: G

Length: 2.2k words

AO3: link

@lightcannonweek

Synopsis:

Once  they reached the campsite, Vi had some words to share with her sister, and her sister's friend as well.

. . .

“Now that we’ve had a minute to rest, we should start setting up camp,” Vi said. “Jinx, wanna help me pitch the tents while the others collect firewood?”

Jinx tipped her head. “I’ll still be able to help make the fire, right?”

“Yeah, they’ll just be collecting wood now. We’ll do the actual fire-setting once it gets dark.”

“Alright, I’m in!”

Thus, the others traipsed off into the woods, Caitlyn taking Warwick and Lux taking Pom-pom, leaving Vi and Jinx alone with the tents.

Vi upended one of their bags so that several poles, a tent, and a tarp scattered over the ground. “Alright. You find a rock-free spot and smooth the tarp out over it, and I’ll start sticking these poles together.”

“Who’s this tent for?”

“If I tell you it's for Cait’s parents, will you still pick a good spot for it?”

“… I might stick something snake-shaped under it. Just for a joke.”

“Then this tent is for you and Lux. And so is the next one, and the one after that, until Cait’s parents decide which one they’ll steal from you.”

“Aw, you’ve foiled my plans once again!”

Vi chuckled, then set about with her poles.

As she worked, she tried to think of how best to breach the topic of whether Lux was good for Jinx. What could she say that wouldn’t sound like she was being a jerk about Jinx having a friend?

Hey, sis, I noticed how happy you’ve been today and wanted to ask if this high will eventually be followed by such a severe low that you won’t be able to leave your bed for several weeks as you spiral downward.

Nah, that was a bit much.

Hey Jinx, has your therapist had anything to say about your new friend?

No, Jinx had never liked being asked about her therapy appointments.

Lux seems like a really cheerful person. Is that ever hard to handle when you’re in your low moods?

Maybe that was something okay to start with? That statement wouldn’t hit any nerves with Jinx, would it?

Right when Vi was about to tentatively voice her question, Jinx beat her to a conversation starter.

“Hey, Vi… Does having me around for this sort of stuff stress you out?”

Vi stared at Jinx, surprised by the question. “What?”

Jinx only met Vi’s eyes briefly before quickly looking back down at the tarp. “I’m just sayin’, I can cut back on the jokes about pulling mean pranks on Cait’s parents if it stresses you out. You know I don’t mean ‘em, right?”

When it hit her that Jinx was feeling insecure about this, Vi dropped her tent-poles and stepped closer. “Jinx, I know you’ve just been joking. I like your jokes – your pranks, too, as long as they don’t hurt anyone. I’m happy you’re here, really happy. I mean it.”

Vi placed a hand on Jinx’s shoulder, and Jinx met her gaze again. Pulling her lip between her teeth, Jinx chewed it for a moment before saying, “Pom-pom was on your chest earlier. He only does that when someone’s getting stress-swamped. He figures it out with his poro-senses, I guess. I just… I was worried that it was because of me. You bein’ stressed and all.”

"It’s not your fault.” Vi pulled Jinx into a hug. Jinx succumbed easily, melting against Vi and snagging her arms around Vi’s back. The rareness of the vulnerable moment was significant to Vi – there’d been precious few times they’d been able to talk about insecurities since their childhood without one of them saying the wrong think and blasting them off into an argument.

Vi was still afraid to say the wrong thing, but… She owed it to Jinx to return earnestness for earnestness. “So… wanna know what I’m actually stressed about?”

Jinx nodded against her shoulder.

Vi sighed. “I… I’ve never met a close friend of yours before. It’s daunting, seeing you attached to someone, and… I’ve always worried about you, about who you’re with, about whether you’re okay. I’ve got nothing against Lux, she’s been nice all day, and I know you're strong and can take care of yourself, but I just… I see your life changing, and I worry.”

“… I worry a bit when my life changes, too,” Jinx murmured, her voice uncharacteristically soft.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I know what I’m like when I pick someone to… uh… To be my person, right? My, uh… My therapist says I have an issue with codependence, and I think she’s probably right.”

“…”

“It’s okay if you agree with the shrink. I promise I won’t snap at you and set all the tents on fire.”

“Heh. Alright, yeah. I know how much you tend to be influenced by whoever’s your favorite person, and I know how much it hurts you if that person makes you feel like you should do dangerous things, or… or if they leave.” Once again, Vi felt guilt creeping into her chest like cold water. “I know I wasn’t the best person for you back when we were kids, and… I know how easy it is to hurt someone, even when you care about them.”

“Yeah. It’s easy to hurt, especially when you’re a young, dumb kid in a shitty situation.”

“Yeah.”

They rested in their hug for a minute of shared comfort, and it eased Vi's nerves to have Jinx so relaxed around her, after everything they'd been through. Eventually, Jinx peered up from their hug. “Uh, by the way… I’m glad you keep inviting me out on family-bonding shit like this. Even though I usually turn ya down. I haven’t felt steady-in-the-brain enough to spend a long time around people for a while, but… I’m getting better. I mean, I think I am. And it helps that I can trust you guys, even the stinky Kirammans. I know there’s people who’ve got my back if everything goes wrong again.”

Vi’s heart softened. “Good. I’m glad you trust us. I’m always gonna be here for you, even if I’m not the best at saying so, okay?”

Jinx rolled her eyes. Stepping out of their hug, she returned to the tarp, smoothing it out over a patch of dandelions. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve got you, and you’ve got me. Behold, the magic of sisterhood!”

Vi snorted. “Behold.”

As they continued setting up the tents, Jinx opened up about some of the habits her therapist had encouraged her to practice so that she wouldn’t “spiral back into a miserable, wailing pit of crippling codependency.” One of those habits had been to keep up with other family and friends, which had been the push for Jinx to say yes to this camping trip. Jinx also told Vi that she was trying to reconnect with Ekko, and that she had an apartment-neighbor named Ziggs who was fun to set off fireworks on the roof with. Vi was especially happy to hear that Lux was supportive of Jinx’s efforts, even giving her reminders when Jinx forgot that she had a meet-up planned.

By the time they’d finished with the tents, the others had returned with a good haul of logs and kindling for the fire. Jinx had run up to Lux upon her reappearance, jumped into her arms, and given her a tight hug.

“That’s enough work for a while!” Jinx announced, still clinging to Lux like a sloth to a tree. “I wanna swim in the pond!”

Finding her company in agreement, Jinx and Lux led the way down to swim off their sweat.

 

 

They spent the next hour at the water. Jinx and Lux initiated a fresh splash-fight, and this time, Vi and Caitlyn joined in. They even did a few chicken fights, taking turns shoving each other into the water. The elder Kiramans dipped their feet into the pond, but stayed dry aside from that, letting the younger generation enjoy their roughhousing. Pom-pom stayed on the shore with the parents while Warwick darted after fish in the shallows.

After swimming, they sunned on towels in the clearing, letting the last of the afternoon's light dry them off. Vi got a kick out of watching her sister melt as Lux massaged sunscreen into her shoulders, practically purring with contentment. Then, Vi had a mini-heart-attack when Lux leaned down to whisper "relax, good girl" into Jinx's ear, and Jinx shivered at the comment. 

... They were really close, huh?

By the time they finished sunning off, sunset colors were bleeding across the dimming sky. Jinx eagerly got to work building their fire, and they shortly had a tall, roaring bonfire that pushed the limits of fire safety. Caitlyn's parents pulled tinfoil wraps of meat and potatoes out of their cooler and set them to rest upon some coals. While these cooked, they also distributed some "mystery meat" sausages to roast on sticks which Jinx had added to their cooler. The flavor of those didn't seem to be to the Kiramman's taste, but it reminded Vi of street food she and Jinx used to get from Jericho's stall when they were kids. Warwick seemed to enjoy the sausages too, and Pom-pom didn't take much coaxing to try one. 

Once the tinfoil-wrapped meals were cooked, they began sharing stories while they ate. Caitlyn told them about an odd case she'd worked on at the precinct, then her father told them an old tale he claimed his grandmother had passed down when he was young. Jinx chipped in next with a funny story about some trouble she and her neighbor Ziggs had gotten into, then Lux rounded the evening out with a spooky story about a cursed graveyard she and her brother had explored back in Demacia. 

Eventually, they began heading off to sleep. The elder Kirammans returned to their tent first, followed by Caitlyn, who pressed a kiss to Vi's cheek before leaving the fire. Jinx, who'd taken a sleep medication with dinner, had been fluttering her eyes when Caitlyn left, and within the next fifteen minutes, her head slumped onto Lux's shoulder, her eyes slid shut, and her mouth went slack. Warwick and Pom-pom were dozing together beside Cait and Vi's tent, leaving Vi and Lux the only awake campers left. 

Vi watched Lux watch Jinx. The blonde woman had a gentle smile on her face as she tenderly tucked Jinx's bangs away from her twitching, ticklish nose. Humming happily in her sleep, Jinx absently nuzzled Lux's shoulder, inspiring her partner's smile to stretch ever-wider. 

They were cute together, and, more importantly, they seemed happy. 

"Jinx seems happy with you," Vi pointed out, her voice lowered soft enough to barely rise over the crackle of the remaining flames. "Happier than she used to be."

Lux glanced up to Vi, her tender smile not abating. "I'm glad I can make her happy," she murmured. "She's made me happy, too."

"What do you like about her?"

Lux didn't need to hesitate before answering, "Her sense of humor, her passion, her thirst for adventure." Tipping her head to the side, she added, "More than anything, I think it's how freeing she is that got my attention. I grew up in a family that asked me to hide parts of myself that weren't proper. Jinx has only ever asked me to be myself. Ever since I met her, I feel like I've met myself now too, and I'm grateful for that in a way that's too big for me to express all at once." She gently pet Jinx's hair. "I love who I am with her at my side, and I..." Lux blushed, her cheeks ruddy in the firelight. She turned her head slightly away, took a breath, and said, "I love her. I hope you don't mind me telling you that."

Vi blinked at Lux, trying and failing to meet the blonde's averted eyes. Vi glanced at Lux's hand resting tenderly on Jinx's hair, then at Jinx's contented face, her cheek smoothed adorably against Lux's shoulder. 

... Yeah. That makes sense.

"She's been through a lot," Vi said earnestly, "and she deserves someone who'll treat her right. It's hard for me to think of anyone who could ever be just right for her, but... You seem to be up for the challenge."

Lux let out a soft laugh, signs of nerves dropping from her face as the corners of her mouth crinkled. "You know," she said, "after everything Jinx told me about how protective you can be, I expected you to give me a shovel-talk as soon as we were alone together. But this has been nice."

Vi sighed. "If you ever hurt her, I think we both know that she'll hash out her own punishment with a blowtorch and fireworks before I can get a punch in edgewise. But, yeah, she's got people at her back, so if you hurt her, one way or another, you're toast."

"I'm glad she has people who'll take care of her like that, whether she feels like she needs it or not."

Vi grinned at her, straightening up. "I'm glad the number of people keeps growing," she said earnestly. "Welcome to the we-care-about-Jinx club, Lux."

Lux smiled. "I'm honored to be a part of it."

[zephyr-rat]

Green Giant Saga Part 11 Sneak Peek - Inside the Blight Fault

I’m led to a dungeon held up by thick stone pillars with a dissection table at the center, with guts, organs, and flesh. Were they a human’s? I couldn’t tell. Shelves line the cavern walls, some consisting of old leather books, pages yellowed with time, and others a treasure trove of so many unique ingredients: glowing shimmer shrooms, poisonous frogs, mutated bat wings, a heart of a unique color, various liquids with confusing names. What do they do? What attributes would they give? I feel my hands reach out. I feel them grab the container. I shove them in my pouches. Every last substance I could take. 

I should take!

These creatures invade my domain and steal the wealth of my resources, why should I let them have it all! It should belong to me! Mine!

“Twitch!?” Zac calls out. I turn. Why is he so disgusted? His wide eyes. Defensive stance. Distance. If he was loyal to his king, he should be joining in!

“We need to get this stuff to the lair!” I command. “It should be mine!”

“But shouldn’t we be focused on finding my goop and getting out?” Zac grabs me by the back and pulls me in. “This place is filled with folks; if we stay longer, we can get caught.”

I slap his green hand off my coat. “We won’t! And if they stay here longer, they’ll steal more of my stuff! All of this should be under my stash! Imagine the stuff I can make! I can make more poisons, sentient potions and Goopy One potions!”

“G-Goopy One potions?”

“Yes! Potions for Goopy Ones like you! Potions like these!” I pat the pouch with my orange serum. “Aren’t you curious what I have in store for you?” Zac looks at the pouch with trepidation. “Bah! Stop it with the cowardice. I thought I made you braver than that. Would Twitch fail his knight?”

“I-I don’t doubt that pal. I just think we’re on a tight schedule.”

I roll my eyes, but there’s some sense to my green subject. “Hmph. I’m taking at least some of it. See if you can find your goop, and we can go… home…” I caught it, something peculiar under the muck. My nose heightens. My ears raise.  It’s faint, but it’s there. How could I have not smelt it before coming here? It’s a familiar blood. A metallic blood. One that I have spilled so many times before. I freeze. My fur stands. My heart races. How did he get in here?

“Zac!” I squeak. I whip out an empty glass bottle, cap open. “Get in! Now!”

He looks on, confused. “What? Why?”

“The metal wolf is here! I smell him. It’s hidden, but it’s here!”

Zac jolts up. “Warwick’s here!?” He looks around the chambers. He sees an empty room. It’s coming from there.

“Wait! Don-”

And he runs towards it.

Like the stupid blob he is! And he’s the one who wants to be careful, the nerve! My fur camouflages with the background. I chase after the idiot. Guess it’s another chance of Twitch saving his supposed knight yet again! Where would he be without me?

As I run towards the domed chamber, I see Zac standing over a pool of dried blood, metal chain links scattered around it with broken chains dangling above him. To the left of the bloodstain on the floor sits an old, big iron apparatus with a large syringe in the center empty with only a sliver of green liquid meant to be injected in the person wearing it. The pipes extending from the central unit were torn apart.

But Zac wasn’t looking at that. He gazes to the right at a large glass capsule filled with that familiar green goop, enveloping a tan man with long black hair and a dark goatee with scars covering his arms and body. 

As the Goopy One remains frozen, I scan the room. No other doors. No other entrances. Just another shelf to the far left wall with one row of books, each labeled with a number, and one row of containers filled with dark red blood. A desk sits in front of the shelf with empty glass vials, overlooking the crime scene. With the wolf so close, I have to figure out where. We break this now, the wolf will catch up to us for sure. 

I sniff the air, letting my nose guide me through the midst of other tempting smells. I find myself walking behind the desk, but this space is much too small for a behemoth like him. I check under the desk, nothing. I check behind the shelf, nothing, yet the scent points me to there. The scent points me to the blood.

“T-This is the metal wolf’s blood,” I said on instinct.

-------------------------------------------------

Part 11 is coming Tomorrow January 10th, 2025.

If you want to read more of Zac and Twitch’s adventures in Zaun. Check out the entire saga!

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[altarfates]

“I’m sorry. I know it hurts.” ( for vanderwick ! )

The hulking mass of his shoulders tremble and his thick, matted fur bristles with each terrible probing of his mind. There were vestiges of the proud, kind-hearted man vander had been buried beneath the detritus of death and the luminescent tubes circulating chemicals through him. They present as memories, cherished yet nebulous and with each touch they burst forth in spasmodic intervals. As quickly as they come they disperse, a corrosive white devouring those sentimental moments, eliciting a rumbling growl of anguish from the creature now known as Warwick. The times between these encounters are condensed into his daughter’s countenances creased with concern and indistinct voices he almost recognizes redolent of a past that is just beyond his reach. With each time this unfamiliar presence parts the dense haze of his consciousness he feels closer to something, it was inexplicable and yet those emotions surge forth with such intensity that he was left reeling. Often as they would part a snarl which tapers off into a whimper would pervade the placid stillness between them and his hands, lithe and gnarled with the essence of magic, would soothe his fur with a compassionate caress. Warwick, with his gums receding into a snarl, teeth bared, would still lean into that touch, feeling its solicitous presence to the depths of his soul, it offers him some semblance of solace that this treacherous journey is not one he undertakes alone. There was so much solitude existing between this haven and the vile green of singed’s lab that he welcomes that presence. This time, as Viktor cradles his jaw, appraising him with a searching gaze, his ears flick back flushing to his skull, a rumble that reverberates through him all he can muster in response. It was an enervating process and when that presence finally retreats the tension in Warwick’s body goes slack, it were as if every muscle was seizing up in anticipation of that initial shock of contact. Now, as the two of them stand alone beneath the prismatic colours cast from above Viktor’s actual voice disperses that silence, an apology to which he does not owe and a penitence that is perhaps lost on the remainder of Vander’s cognizance. As if in acceptance, or reassurance he presses his head past his prudent touch and butts his head against Viktor’s shoulder. The next sound to emerge from the cage of his jaw is a low, harrowing timbre of despondence.  ❝ not... your fault.. ❞

[ao3feed-arcane]

This world is a wasteland.

by TubOfBees Losing people can be hard, but it's even harder knowing that it was your fault that everyone you loved has died. Jinx was falling. For the last time, she hoped. --- Or Continuing Arcane's finale with a non-canon storyline, Where Jinx works with Ekko to help her leave Piltover, however, Ekko does not like the idea of that. Words: 2400, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: Multi Characters: Jinx (League of Legends), Vi (League of Legends), Caitlyn (League of Legends), Ekko (League of Legends), Warwick (League of Legends), Vander (League of Legends), Young Powder - Character, Young Vi - Character Relationships: Ekko/Jinx (League of Legends), Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends) Additional Tags: Fluff, Angst, Trauma, Healing, Everyone Needs A Hug, Slow Build, Depression, Everyone thinks Jinx is dead, Flashbacks, non-linear timeline, multiple POVs, chapters all over the place read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/R8shvrM

[nickerson-insurance-agency]

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[wingedshadowfan]

this!!

given enough time and therapy, i think both can be switches but at present caitlyn is nearly always a top, and vi is only a bottom for caitlyn. in this essay i will:

caitlyn is a top: control, type a

we can assume caitlyn grew up babied and spoonfed by everyone around her despite her protests. she's the definition of a bird in a gilded cage - luxury without freedom. therefore, i firmly believe she's the kind of person who wants control and autonomy. she wants to have a choice and play an active role in what's happening bcuz she's been denied that before. she also grew up in a very strict household and had to adhere to her family and society's impossibly high standards. basically, she's very type a coded, and i see that manifesting as caitlyn taking initiative, leading, having a particular vision in how she wants things to happen and having the confidence in herself that she can make them happen that way. she's not shy or unsure, she's an absolute go getter, and even ambessa notes this of her.

vi is a bottom (with caitlyn): treatment, trust

furthermore, caitlyn is a protector by choice (she chose to became an enforcer despite never needing to be a protector of anyone in her childhood, unlike vi), and the first one to take care of vi in any way since vander. and even vander, though he admittedly loved vi, also put immense expectations and unfair responsibility on a literal child, which caitlyn never did. in fact, she's the one to tell vi, "what happened to them, it's not your fault." she knows what vi's experienced and what it's done to her.

caitlyn was also never someone who "followed" vi's leadership, and whose safety at all times weighed on vi's shoulders (vi does feel second hand guilt for what caitlyn has had to endure since meeting her l, but she knows it's on jinx). and yes, vi protects/saves caitlyn a lot, but that's also quite reciprocal between them. caitlyn has done for vi what no one else has. she's taken care of her when she was injured, listened to her open up about her childhood, respected her wishes and acted accordingly, stood up for her, given up so much for her in betraying ambessa to try and save warwick (many other reasons there that i've talked abt in other posts), understood her on a profoundly deep level by letting jinx go, etc. she's the only person vi truly trusts, would entrust herself to, and would allow herself to take from.

other off-screen reasons to believe this headcanon:

it's hot

vi deserves it

pillow princess femme x stone top butch trope subversion

giver!caitlyn is the solution for those who may still feel iffy at the power dynamics between caitvi despite their moments and character development

LISTEN TO ME RN OKAY

the reason why in my head cait is absolutely a top and vi is a bottom (who is often a service top for reasons i will explain) is because like- psychology. it just makes sense.

cait in season 1 was already having to fight for her position as an enforcer to be taken seriously. she was underestimated for years, but she went against the explicit restrictions given to her just to prove she was amazing at her job. shes the one who took charge throughout almost all of her little mission with vi, she just wasnt street smart but she sure as hell was the leader and is meant to be one.

vi is, at her core, a bottom. inside, she really does want nothing more than to be taken care of because nobody ever does that. but she takes it upon herself to care for others, to always be the giver, because thats what shes conditioned herself to do. but i think a lot of us know that shes just a sad woman who really needs a hug and someone to remind her that she is worth more than what she can give and that she doesnt always have to be the one to do it.

so yea im right, all of those who disagree are stupid /lh

[gurugirl]

The Con Artist | Part 3*

Summary: Harry's being cold toward you and it drives you crazy, but your attitude is making him nuts, so when there's a bit of car trouble what else can be done but find a dingy motel in the middle of nowhere even when you're both getting on each other's nerves? Surely the detective will remain professional with you.

Warning: Graphic descriptions and details of smut, unprofessional cop behavior, use of handcuffs (not the fun kind)

11.8k words

A/n: detective!harry x criminal!reader. This is part 3 of this series. The Con Artist Masterlist

◈ ◈ ◈

Harry was doing everything a good detective shouldn’t be doing. He should have never walked up to you at Victory Park and he certainly shouldn’t have approached you at the Warwick and then brought you back to his room. He shouldn’t have kept you in his custody at all. He had nothing to keep you for. But he wasn’t ready to give up yet. Oh, and there was the fact that that moment he was lapping at your breasts with your fingers in his hair. This was also a bad idea.

You arched your back upward pushing your ribcage into Harry and he moved his hands along your sides and over your nipples. He couldn’t resist you which is why it was so frustrating when you were acting like a brat toward him because all he wanted was for you to be nice and easy. But you weren’t easy. Nor were you nice and it drove him crazy. He was used to women being very eager and sweet toward him, throwing themselves at him even because they wanted him to see their best side. But you didn’t care what Harry thought. Your attitude was infuriating but he liked the challenge of you.

Harry lowered his mouth and kissed downward to your belly button. You were still fully clothed, as was he, but he had your white t-shirt pushed up above your breasts with your bra pulled down so your tits were exposed.

But then as Harry brushed his mouth over your belly button he heard your stomach gurgle, which reminded him why you were in his motel room in the first place, and he suddenly realized with a bit more clarity that the situation had gotten out of hand. He pushed himself up and groaned. You were so pretty and so ready for him. He knew he could take this as far as you’d let him, and it seemed like you were more than ready for whatever he wanted. But he needed to remain strong.

He rubbed his hands over his face and then he felt your warm hand grasp his elbow. He opened his eyes and looked at you. You’d already pulled your shirt back down over your breasts and were sat up. You had a look of question on your face. It didn’t make sense to you why he’d stopped. That wasn’t something you were used to. It felt like rejection.

Harry lowered his hands from his face and frowned, “I’m sorry, Y/n. This is my fault and it’s fucked up. This is not supposed to happen. We shouldn’t be engaging like this. I’m responsible for everything here.”

He got up from the bed and tilted his head back as he looked up at the ceiling and then he paced from the front door of the motel room to the bathroom door. Back and forth, hands on his hips and trying to work out in his head what he was going to do.

You watched him as he lifted his arms and bent them at the elbow and cradled the back of his head, still pacing. He was in distress. He’d busted up his own boundaries and fucked up the case. All because he couldn’t control the dick-brain he got when he was around you.

“Okay… here’s what we’ll do,” Harry lowered his arms and walked back toward the bed, but didn’t sit down, “we’ll leave now and go to your mom’s, and then we’ll head to LA. It’s about 8 am so your mom should be awake, right?” He looked at you briefly before he began to pace again, not wanting to allow himself too much time to scan you and take you in with your messy hair, kiss-swollen lips, and flushed cheeks.

You nodded, “Yeah,” you spoke in a soft voice. You didn’t like this at all. Your brain was still confused about everything. About how you felt about the detective and what it meant that you were actually going back to LA with him.

Harry nodded and exhaled a deep breath, “Right. Okay. Well, let’s get our things and get out of here. We’ll go to the bar and get your car and I’ll follow you to your mom’s.”

You stayed in Harry’s car as he ran in to settle up for the night at the motel. Before he went into the office he pointed at you and gave you a warning, “I’ll be watching you. Do not run. I will catch you. I run faster than you and can probably go for a lot longer than you. So don’t even go there.”

His words didn’t help the state of your panties or your brain. Of course, his stamina was good. Look at him. He’d catch you and tackle you down in his strong arms and carry you back to his car with ease you were sure of it. That kind of sounded like fun. God, he was so hot. If he were ugly you’d have probably tried harder to get away from him somehow. Maybe. But then again, if he were ugly you’d never have kissed him in the first place and none of this would be happening.

You drove your car to your mom’s, with Harry following behind you. You made no attempt to run or speed off with your car. It would do no good. Harry’s car was far faster than yours. It would just be a big mistake to do anything like that. Then he’d have more of a reason to keep you in his custody or send you to jail.

Harry joined you in your mother’s home. She was still in her pajamas, her hair in a bun on her head as she sipped her coffee and offered some to you both.

“Yes. That would be great. Thank you, ma’am,” Harry answered your mother. He needed some coffee for the long drive ahead. You declined.

You noticed how your mom was eyeing Harry. She’d never seen him around so you introduced him as your friend from LA. You went with the story that you’d be back in a week to get your car, and that you needed to go back to LA with Harry.

“I don’t understand. You just got here yesterday. You said you were going to stay for a week.” Your mom was disappointed. You hated disappointing her.

“I know. I’m sorry, Mom. I’ll be back, though, and then I’ll stay for the week.”

Harry drank his mug of coffee and took note of the house and everything in it. The pictures on the walls and in frames stood up near the entertainment center with you. You were a cute kid too. Harry really wanted to see your childhood bedroom. Mostly just for curiosity’s sake. He knew so much about you, yet he didn’t know the small details that made you who you were. The house and everything in it told him a different story about you, filled in some of the particulars about you that he noticed once he began to make contact with you. It was always like this with a person of interest, a suspect. There was always more to them than met the eye or what evidence and background checks could find. There was always more to the person than just a bad criminal who deserved punishment.

“What do you do for a living, Harry?” Your mom asked. She was curious about the tall, handsome stranger. She didn’t believe what you told her. She knew you were fibbing but she wouldn’t push you. She never wanted to be pushy with you, even when you were growing up. It was one of the things that made you love being around her. She let you tell her what you needed in your time.

Harry cleared his throat and placed his mug down on the kitchen counter, “I work in tech. I set up network configurations for hospitals and clinics in the US and parts of Europe. I help run project management for my clients and they like to have me in person when I set up a new configuration so I can train onsite IT or tech people,” he glanced at you and then back to your mom.

You hated lying to your mom. Not just because lying to your mom made you feel awful, but because you knew she could smell the bullshit. 

“Really…” Your mom said, leaning her hip on the counter and crossing her arms over her chest.

Harry nodded, “Yes, ma’am. It’s a good gig.”

“Sure sounds like it. So you two only recently met then is what I’m gathering,” she kept her eyes on Harry.

“Yes. We actually just met randomly,” you interjected, “I was sitting in a park drinking coffee and Harry was lost and well, anyway…” you laugh and look between Harry and your mom, “I gave him my number because I know the area well…”

“Oh, I don’t blame you for giving him your number, darling. Look at him,” She nodded toward Harry, “Sorry, Harry,” she quickly said, “I just can see that you’re an attractive man is all.”

Harry chuckled and shook his head, smiling at your mom with his dimple making its appearance.

“Well, we should really be going. I just need to grab my bag,” you said as you began to leave the kitchen. You didn’t want to stand there and lie to your mom anymore. And plus, you were still reeling from the hot kiss you shared with Harry so everything felt very confusing for you. You’d barely had time to process anything.

When you got back into the kitchen, rolling your bag behind you Harry and your mom were standing closer and she was laughing at something he’d just said.

Your mom turned to look at you, “Harry was telling me how he just found out you hate orange juice.”

You cinched your brows together and glared at Harry, “Yeah. He ordered me a liter-sized cup and was surprised when I told him I didn’t want it. It’s disgusting.”

Your mom and Harry laughed again as if they were good buddies sharing old stories about you.

Before you left you promised your mom you’d return the following week. She still didn’t understand why you were leaving exactly, but she sighed and gave you hug, “Call me if you need anything, Y/n. I love you, honey,” she spoke into your ear when you hugged her goodbye.

When you and Harry got onto Highway 5, headed South toward LA there were few words spoken. You were feeling things that were very complex, but so was Harry. Clearly, you were both attracted to one another. But your goals were not aligned. Harry was a detective and you were in trouble for a serious crime.

And it was confusing mostly because you didn’t know what to expect. You had a feeling he was not being totally honest with you. That perhaps you weren’t meant to really be in his custody. But what could you do? No one would believe you over a cop. And there was a part of you that sort of thrived off the potential for adventure and drama. You were a career thief after all. Excitement and making bad decisions were sort of your thing. Maybe that’s the real reason you didn’t try harder to get away or to alert someone to what Harry was doing. Or… and this was a big OR… he was doing everything by the book and had a solid reason to keep you in his custody and he just wasn’t telling you why.

From your conversations with him, he mentioned he fucked up, and that he had nothing substantial on you. But you weren’t totally sure of how this sort of thing worked. And you felt like you could trust Harry not to hurt you. At the very least.

When Harry looked over at you after an hour and a half of driving he realized you were so quiet because you were asleep. Cute when she’s quiet. He thought to himself.

He’d really dug himself into a deep hole with you. He didn’t know what he was going to do once he got you back to LA. He’d take you to your apartment and perhaps search for clues. If he could find a watch or jewelry that you’d stolen then that would be all the evidence he’d need. He noted the gold bracelets on your left arm and wondered if you stole them.

He reached his right hand out and put the tip of his middle finger on one of the bracelets to push them apart. He watched the road, then looked to your wrist, then back at the road.  You had five on. They were thin and had different finishes and textures. Some were slightly thinner than others.

Suddenly the car thunked over something and the wheel turned hard to the left, causing the vehicle to veer over the lanes and into oncoming traffic.

Harry tried correcting the wheel but the car was traveling at about 60 miles per hour and it was nearly impossible to bring the car back to the right.

He had been lucky there were no other cars on that stretch of road at that very moment. The car came to a screeching halt on the opposite side of the road facing the opposite direction you’d been headed. Harry gripped the wheel tight and looked over at you as he placed the car in park.

You blinked your eyes open when you felt what you thought was Harry making a sharp turn. But when you moved your head to look at Harry you saw him looking at you and the car was stopped just off the highway on the shoulder.

“What’s going on?” You asked as you stretched your arms overhead. You weren’t yet aware of what had just happened.

“Stay here,” Harry spoke quickly as he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. He went to the front and you watched as he checked his tires and then slammed his hands down on the hood of his car, “FUCK!”

Harry ducked down and inspected closer and all you could see was the top of his head, his dark curls looking like he’d styled his hair that way but you knew he woke up looking like that. Disgustingly handsome.

Harry rounded the vehicle and got back in, his heavy body falling into the driver’s seat and making the car jostle slightly. He slammed the door closed and plucked up his phone, dialing a number and putting the phone to his ear.

He cleared his throat and you stared at his profile, “What’s going on, Harry?”

Harry shook his head and shushed you and that pissed you right off. You weren’t one to be shushed.

You unbuckled your seatbelt and opened the car door to see for yourself what was wrong since he didn’t feel you were worth informing before making the call he was on.

Harry hopped out behind you, “Hey! What are you doing? Get back in the car, Y/n!”

You ignored him the way he ignored you. A flat tire. More than just a flat tire. He hit something big. The tire was a goner but the entire wheel would need to be replaced as well. The bumper even had damage.

You felt Harry’s hand grasp around the back of your arm and he pulled you with him back to the car, “Get back in the fucking car. I need to call someone to get a tow,” he opened the door and you yanked your arm away and shot your nastiest, meanest look at him before plopping into your seat and Harry closed the door.

It took about forty-five minutes for the tow truck to arrive. You and Harry were in a small-town North of Sacramento. The only shop that the car could be towed to wouldn’t look at the vehicle until tomorrow because they’d be closed by the time you arrived, but they were fine to let you leave the car on their lot overnight.

If you wanted to go all the way into Sacramento, that could take another hour and Harry found that he’d need to make an appointment at a shop prior to arriving. Most were booked up for the day. So, towing the vehicle to a small-town shop and waiting for them to look at it tomorrow would work just as long as there was a place to keep the car overnight. The shops in Sacramento wouldn’t allow the vehicle to be parked overnight on their lot without an appointment.

“Why don’t you just arrange something with the police? You’re a cop so you should be able to get in anywhere and have your wheel fixed. Right?” You eyed Harry in question. He was awfully quiet, and he was very angry. You could tell he was frustrated and didn’t want to be bothered.

“Because I’m not. And just because I’m a cop doesn’t mean it’ll be fixed any faster. Just…” Harry leaned his head back onto the headrest and closed his eyes, “stop. Okay? I need a break. I’m not in the mood to answer your questions right now.”

You kept silent after that. You kind of wanted to look at your phone and scroll through social media. Text Raechel. Read a book you downloaded. Anything.

But Harry took your phone before you got on the road. He said it was to make sure you didn’t try anything. Even after kissing you the way he did, meeting your mom, and seeing how you didn’t speed off in your car, he still held his hand out and told you to give him your phone before he backed out of your mother’s driveway.

So, you sighed and crossed your arms over your chest, and turned to face the window. You stayed like that until the tow truck arrived, hopping out the moment it backed up in front of the car.

“Goddamnit! Why do you need to jump out of the vehicle like that? Just… fuck…” Harry said as he ran up behind you.

You didn’t respond nor look at him. He was being a dick and you weren’t going to give him even an inch of your attention. He didn’t want to talk so you weren’t going to engage with him.

You and Harry squeezed into the cab of the truck. It was a bench seat that could fit no more than three people. You sat in the middle and the guy driving took you to the shop that said they’d look at the car in the morning.

Harry’s body was warm and solid and it felt really nice. You ignored the way your mind began racing with the possibilities of that evening. You knew you two were going to need to stay overnight in the small town. Harry hadn’t told you that but you’d come to your own conclusions when you heard him talking to people on the phone about at least letting him keep the vehicle parked overnight.

A half-hour later, the car was being placed on the lot and Harry paid the man who then drove off and left you and Harry alone again. Harry turned his back to you as he walked toward the car. He pulled out his bag and your suitcase from the trunk and a few other things in his glove box and backseat. You stayed away. To give him space. To give yourself space. You paced on the concrete pad near the shop as he leaned against his car and fiddled with his phone. You imagined he was looking for a place to stay or calling an Uber or taxi or something.

“Fuck!” His booming voice startled you and you turned to look at him. Now he was standing and pacing. Harry was not in a good mood.

But of course, he wasn’t. Everything that had happened, everything that had gone wrong, was all his fault. If he hadn’t approached you at Liberty Park that day none of this would be happening. In fact, he might have caught you already and had you in custody (legally) and probably in jail. But now? Now he was fucked in the middle of bumfuck nowhere with his case blown, a criminal in tow, no car, and no motel nearby. And now no cell reception.

You rolled your eyes and took a deep breath. Perhaps he needed help. This was in your best interest as well to see if you could assist. You hesitated at first, thinking how funny it would be if he couldn’t get a taxi or a hotel, but then the thought burst when you remembered you were with him and you’d much prefer to sleep in a motel than in a car in a shop lot.

“Want me to see if I can find a place…?” you spoke as you neared him but Harry put his hand up.

“Shhh… Stop. I’m fine. I’ve got it taken care of.”

He didn’t actually.

Twenty minutes later you realized Harry was glancing in your direction. You felt his eyes on you so you turned to look at him, “What?”

Harry scratched the back of his neck and sighed, “Can I borrow your phone to look for a motel? Looks like you’ve got better service than I do out here.”

You rolled your eyes and shrugged, “You have it in your possession so go for it.”

Harry huffed at your remark and the way you were snide with him, “Don’t get annoyed with me. I’m doing my best here,” Harry countered.

You walked back toward the shop, the loose gravel underfoot moving and rolling when you placed your foot down. You sat on the stoop and looked up to see Harry walking toward you.

He held your phone up to you, “Can you unlock it?”

You tapped the phone and put your face in the view and it unlocked right away. Harry sat down on the stoop next to you and began looking for a place to stay. There were very few options and the only motel that seemed to be open was a half hour out. But it was your best bet. Harry called the motel and you could hear someone on the other line, chipper and squawky. Harry winced at the noise and you laughed to yourself at his reaction.

“Yes, hi. I’m looking for a room for the night. Do you have anything available?”

You kept your eyes on Harry. The voice on the phone rattled off at least five or six sentences and Harry sighed, “Yes. That’s great. Uh… anything with two beds?” He glanced over at you before looking down at his lap.

You stood up and walked away back toward his car. You really didn’t feel like being near him. He was mean when he was in a bad mood and it was making you feel angry as well. You hated to feel angry. Especially when the anger was no good in this situation.

You leaned against Harry’s car and watched the road. There were no cars to be seen driving around this area. You could hear the sound of an interstate or highway off in the distance but couldn’t see it. There was a grass lot across the street and a small empty fenced parking lot up further off the road.

“Okay. We’ve got a room. I’m going to call a taxi to get us there,” Harry spoke as he walked toward you.

Harry used your phone to call a local taxi company. Uber wasn’t available.

When Harry locked your phone he slid it into his back pocket and leaned on his car next to you and crossed his arms over his chest.

It was silent. Which was preferred. You didn’t want to hear him make any more comments or say something out of anger.

Your phone began to ring after about five minutes of peace and Harry pushed himself off the car and lifted your phone to his ear, “Hello?”

Harry began walking toward the shop and you followed because you were curious. On the front door of the shop was the street number and Harry spoke it into the receiver and paused, “Yeah. Okay. Great. Thank you. We’ll be here.”

He locked your phone again and put it back into his pocket and then walked past you toward his car.

You followed.

“Was that the taxi? When will they be here?” You asked, frustrated that Harry wasn’t giving you any information.

Harry stopped and turned, “Yes. Twenty minutes.”

You frowned at him, “Why are you treating me like this is my fault? I didn’t do anything wrong here Harry.”

Harry rolled his eyes and grumbled something under his breath as he turned away to continue walking back to his car, “Because you’re difficult and you’re a criminal that I can’t trust but have to keep with me. So I’m not having the best day when it’s got to be shared with someone like you.”

You stopped in your tracks. That kind of hurt, actually. You wouldn’t admit that to Harry but the fact that he just made it sound like you were some low-life criminal who was a burden to him made you feel sour in your stomach. You turned and walked back toward the shop to sit on the stoop and wait for the taxi. You didn’t want to be next to Harry for 20 minutes in silence.

The sun was bright and warm in the sky. It felt nice on your skin. You hadn’t changed or showered, or even brushed your teeth and when you began to sweat the tiniest bit you were beginning to look forward to getting to a motel room, even if you had to share it with Harry. A shower would feel nice.

The taxi pulled into the lot and Harry lifted his bag and your suitcase and popped them into the trunk of the white car with large lettering on the side RAAHAUGE TAXI SERVICE.

You slid into the back seat and Harry got into the passenger seat in the front.

Bob was the driver. He was nice. Talkative. Harry was annoyed, you could tell, but he was nice and made conversation with him. It was good to know Harry wasn’t mean to everyone he was annoyed by. Just you.

When you got to the Arbuckle Inn Harry was quick to get out of the car and get your things from the trunk. You bid Bob farewell and hopped out to follow Harry to the office of the motel.

Inside it was dark and the carpet was beige and there was a drip coffee maker with powdered cream, red straws, sugar packets, and tiny white Styrofoam cups on a bench. You decided you were ready for a little coffee. Your stomach was feeling better. In fact, you were starting to get hungry, but you just knew telling Harry that you were hungry would make him angry so you stuck with lobby motel coffee and powdered creamer to tide you over until he was ready for food.

Harry was given a room key with a bright green key chain attached with the words A Better You printed in white.

The room was at the end of the property near the road. There was only one bed and the TV was from the 90s. The dark green shag carpet was dusty and the beige curtains were too. You pressed your hand on the bed and this time, it felt like a mattress. Not the best mattress, but anything was better than the one you attempted to sleep on earlier.

Harry put his bag on the end of the bed and began rifling through it. You excused yourself to the bathroom.

The bathroom was just as charming as the room. The toilet, sink, and tub had blue porcelain and the mirror that was tacked to the wall above the sink was yellowed at the edges and cracked. The shower curtain was due for burning, but it would only be for a night. You couldn’t get too picky you supposed.

You brushed your teeth and splashed your face with water and heard your stomach grumble.

Back in the room, Harry was lying on his back on the bed with his eyes closed and his hands clasped together behind his head. He popped an eye open when you opened the door.

“Shower up, take a nap, watch TV. Whatever you need. We’ll figure something out for food later. I saw a small convenience store just up the road before we got dropped off.

You nodded silently and went through your suitcase to gather up something to wear. It was warm out and you needed to cool down.

You pulled out your soft pajama shorts and a black t-shirt along with your toiletries bag, “You don’t need to go to the bathroom before I step in do you?” You asked the man who was taking up a significant portion of the bed.

He shook his head and closed his eyes.

The shower was exactly what you needed. It felt so good to wash your body and your hair. When you got out of the shower you brushed your teeth again for good measure.

You ran lotion over your skin and moisturized your face and then just as you were about to put your clothes on, Harry was knocking at the bathroom door.

“What’s taking so long?”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. What an asshole.

“I’ll be out in one minute,” you shouted through the door as you slid your shorts up your legs and put your toiletries back into their rightful spot. You tucked your dirty clothes under your arm and opened the door. Harry was standing right there looking as angry as ever.

You ignored him, walking right past to your suitcase to put your things away.

Harry stood behind you and you jumped when you realized he was so close, “Get on the bed.”

You furrowed your brows and shook your head, “No. Why?”

Harry lifted the handcuffs and raised his brow, “Because it’s my turn to use the bathroom and I need to make sure you don’t run off. On the bed,” he pointed behind you.

“Can you at least let me have the remote for the TV?” You said, pointing toward the table the TV was sitting on, the remote right next to it.

Harry closed his eyes and then nodded in annoyance, “Yes. Sit.”

You sat down and Harry took your wrist and cuffed it to the headboard and then tossed the remote to you before he disappeared behind the bathroom door. You noted that he didn’t take any toiletries. You wondered if he brought any or if he’d just forgotten to bring them into the bathroom.

You clicked the TV on and it took a second for the screen to brighten. When the screen had warmed up you flipped through the channels for a bit until you landed on something somewhat entertaining.

You heard the water from the shower in the bathroom turn on and then you settled your back into your pillows, or what you assumed were your pillows since you were cuffed to that particular side.

The bed felt nice under your body. You closed your eyes but you remained conscious. It just felt good to stretch your legs on a comfortable bed and your eyes were a bit heavy too.

Not long after you’d felt yourself relax totally into the bed you heard the bathroom door open. You opened your eyes and noticed Harry was only in a towel wrapped around his waist. He quickly went to his bag and pulled out some clothes before glancing at you and then walking back into the bathroom, and closing the door.

You were unsure of how to feel. There was something between you and Harry, obviously. Attraction at the very least but that didn’t count for much. You did trust him but he didn’t trust you, you thought to yourself as you looked at your cuffed wrist. Which didn’t feel good. Especially after what he said about having to keep you with him. Like you were that bad. As if you’d really gone out of your way for all this.

Harry reappeared, dressed in sweatpants and a white t-shirt. His hair was wet, which was also attractive. Unlike your own wet hair. You hated how you looked with wet hair. Not cute.

Harry moved his bag off the bed and onto the wooden chair next to his side of the room. He walked around the bed toward you and this made you sit up as you watched him. He pulled a key from his pocket and clicked it into the cuff on your wrist and released the spring so your arm was free. You rubbed at your wrist as you watched Harry turn and walk back to the other side of the bed, sitting down and putting his back to the headboard, stuffing his pillows behind him. He stared ahead at the TV screen.

Annoying. He was the one that was annoying.

After a few minutes, Harry cleared his throat and you could see from your peripheral that he turned his head toward you but you didn’t move your neck to look back at him.

 “I’m sorry,” was all he said. You saw him turn his head back toward the TV.

You sat for a moment to think about his “apology”. But it only made you angry. Sorry? Did he think that’s all he needed to do to make himself feel better for how he’d treated you?

Finally, after you began to imagine yourself punching him in the jaw a few good times, you turned to look at him, his hair still damp and drying, “For what?” You crossed your arms over your chest. You wanted a real apology.

Harry took a deep breath and you saw his jaw clench, the one you wanted to punch really good and he turned to face you. His soft green irises on your face, “For how I treated you. I…” he pursed his lips, “was rude to you because I was frustrated and wanted someone to take it out on. But none of this your fault.”

You kept your arms crossed over your chest, not letting your guard down, “Oh? And so you don’t think I’m an annoying burden you’re forced to bring along on this trip? You don’t mind someone like me here with you? I’m the one who’s been forced into this situation, by the way.”

Harry inhaled deep through his nose, his face set in a serious expression, “I don’t think that you’re a burden. No.”

You pressed your back into your pillows and set your eyes back on the TV screen. You guessed that was something. The apology would probably be all you’d get from him.

“And for this morning. When I kissed you. That was inappropriate and I don’t what’s gotten into me. So, for all of it. Sorry.”

You looked down at your lap and shook your head. This whole mess was weird and unfortunate. Confusing.

The silence was awkward and uncomfortable between you two. The TV was obnoxious with commercials that seemed to go on longer than the episodes of I Dream of Jeannie.

When your stomach growled Harry turned to look at you, “Hungry?”

You nodded, “Mhmm…” but kept your sight on the TV.

Harry sighed waiting for you to look at him but when you didn’t he felt himself get frustrated at you again. He knew he deserved your cold shoulder but he didn’t like it. He wasn’t used to being treated this way by women.

You could feel his frustration. You knew he didn’t like your little attitude but you weren’t a pushover. An apology was nice but he’d need to start being kind to you. Harry was hot as fuck but that didn’t mean you would go easy on him. Not at all. In fact, because he was so attractive you found it more fun to fuck with him a bit. But he also deserved it.

“Look at me,” he said.

You scoffed and shook your head before turning to look at him with your brows raised in annoyance.

“Why are you so difficult? This is a hard situation and your attitude is not making this any easier.”

You cocked your head to the side and squinted your eyes at him before you allowed a mocking smile to take over your features, “Me? Difficult? Never. You on the other hand, Harry… quite an asshole if I do say so myself. You’re the one who’s making this situation worse than it needs to be. You should get over yourself.”

Harry’s nostrils flared and he took a deep breath, “You’re a criminal, Y/n. You seem to keep forgetting that. I am treating you far better than any other cop would. You should be thankful.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes, “Oh god, you’re right. Thank you so much, Harry. You are my hero. My savior. Should I suck you off now so you really understand how grateful I am to you for keeping me in your custody?”

The look Harry gave you was quite intimidating. You immediately regretted your words when he stood from the bed and turned the TV off. He stood at the end of the bed, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Harry had not really met anyone quite as mouthy as you, except for his sister. Most people quickly acquiesced to Harry’s wishes. Even before he was a cop. Harry’s natural charisma and character kept people very compliant and easy to deal with for most of his life. Harry usually got whatever he wanted if he just asked for it (within reason of course). But when he donned his uniform or told anyone he was a cop, well, there was never any argument. No one back-talked him or questioned him. No one mouthed off to him in jest or sarcasm. Your attitude wasn’t something he really knew how to navigate.

You were sure you should keep your mouth shut but you couldn’t help but goad him, “Nothing is wrong with me, Harry. I’m just great. I love being held captive by a cop who probably doesn’t have a reason to hold me. I love being forced to lie to my mom about what’s going on. I love being kissed and touched by someone who actually despises me and finds me to be less than he is. This back-and-forth is just amazing for my confidence. I thrive off of being degraded and treated like I’m shit.”

“Stop!” Harry shouted and you startled a bit at his volume. He was pissed. Harry ran a hand through his hair and walked toward the window. He looked out and then turned back to you, “Yes. This is not ideal. I know how terrible this feels for you to be forced to come with me. But if it were any other cop on this case they would have let you go with Oregano,” he spoke the name as if it were an annoying word to say, “to let him do god-knows-what to you because intervening like I did means the case could be blown. I did that for you!”

You sat with your mouth closed. That was true. He did get you out of that mess and risked all of the work he’d done on the investigation. You understood his frustration but you didn’t understand why he was being so cold toward you. It also hurt your feelings that he kissed you and then went on to practically ignore you once you got on the road back to LA. One moment he was flirting with you and smirking with that dimpled smile and the next he was bossing you around and telling you how he couldn’t trust someone like you. You needed him to understand you were frustrated as well. He wasn’t the only one with feelings.

You got off the bed and put your hands on your hips, “I know. I thanked you for helping me, Harry. And what you did was your choice. I never asked for that so the idea that I somehow owe you my sweetness and obedience is absurd. Thank you. Okay? I truly appreciate what you did.” You stepped toward him so you could get a better look at his face, “What else do you want from me? You can’t just flirt with me and kiss me one moment and then treat me like garbage the next. I’m a real person with feelings too. None of what happened was my fault. So why are you being so mean to me?”

Harry pulled his lips into his mouth and looked down, walking toward the window and then back toward the TV nodding his head in thought. You watched him as he turned and walked away again toward the window, head down and then he stopped. You moved toward him, anticipating that he’d turn around to answer you. You wanted to see his face as he spoke.

“Because I don’t know how to deal with you. And I’m not trying to be mean to you or anything, that’s just because I’ve never… fucked up like this before. Not with someone like you…”

You scoffed, “Someone like me. You asshole…”

Harry turned quickly cutting off your words, “No. That’s not what I meant. Someone like you means… like… you’re just not like anyone else. You’re rude, you lie, you steal, you talk back, and your whole attitude is sardonic. But none of that is bad,” Harry ran his hand through his hair with his eyes on yours, “it’s just different and I’m not used to it and I don’t know how to deal with it.”

You’d met plenty of men who didn’t like your little attitude. Your mom always told you never to trust men who didn’t like it or who tried to tamper with it. She always told you that if a man deserved you, he’d learn to understand you and would even love you more for it. So hearing Harry tell you this was no surprise. Not to mention you were pretty sure he rarely got defiance from anyone. Harry was tall, broad, and intimidating with a deep voice, and searing bright green eyes. Plus he was a cop.

“Okay. Fair enough. I’ve heard I’m hard to deal with. But why kiss me and do whatever it was that you did? What was that about? Is this a job for you or not?”

Harry pursed his lips to the side and nodded before answering, “I don’t know,” he took a small step in your direction, his eyes were soft and his lips were parted the smallest bit. You noticed he had the smallest spattering of facial hair over his top lip and just beginning at his jawline and chin.

You stayed silent as he kept his eyes on yours. He looked like he was still in thought, trying to figure out how to answer you. His jaw clenched and he drew his eyes down to your black t-shirt then back up, “I’m sorry. I… there’s probably a great answer here somewhere but I can’t find it. I only can say that I’m…” you watched his throat bob as he swallowed, “an idiot probably. I like you more than I should actually. You’re cute and smart, and well,” he reached his hand up and scratched the back of the neck, “I kind of like the way you confront me and how you’re not scared of me. So I’m caught off guard because I shouldn’t be feeling this way. Because this is supposed to be a job.”

You weren’t expecting his answer. It only confused you further. You stitched your brows together as you listened to him. You felt like everything he just said was a compliment. Like what you’d want any handsome man to tell you. Except for the job part, but still.

Harry reached a hand up toward your face and pressed his thumb between your creased eyebrows, “I’m not doing anything but making you miserable, it’s not fair to you.”

You brought a hand up and placed it over Harry’s wrist to pull his touch away. The intimate nature of what he’d just done had you perplexed. Yes, he’d kissed you and had even eaten you out (before you realized he was a cop), but there was something between you two. Maybe it was just pure attraction. But there was something so absorbing and provoking about him. Something that had you excited and drawn in.

You heard his deep exhale and watched his lips turn downward with the smallest pout. He thought he’d overstepped but you shook your head, “I’m not miserable. I’m… a little curious about what’s going to happen. I just don’t want to go to jail, Harry,” you looked between his eyes as you spoke, “You’re confusing is all.”

Harry looked down to where you’d placed your hand on his wrist and back up to you, “I’m confused by you too.”

The moment lasted for minutes. There was no air between you two when you looked into his soft green eyes. It had happened before. It was like he had you enchanted. But he clearly felt the same. As if there wasn’t anything to stop the chemical reaction between you two. You both tried. God, you both denied yourselves and had been able to pull away but there was only so much strength you had left. When you were forced to be in close proximity to him, looking at him with his wet hair and hungry eyes…

“Harry…” you spoke his name softly, quietly when he took the smallest step in toward you, a hand finding your jaw, his thumb at your cheek. His fingers grasped the side of your neck.

You couldn’t stop the way your limbs were filled with currents and buzzed with electricity when he brought another hand up to cup your other cheek. Everything felt hazy, exciting, and wanton.

“Y/n…” his voice was just as soft as yours and he said your name as if it were a question. As if he was asking your permission for what you both knew was to come next.

You knew he shouldn’t. You shouldn’t. It was better to treat this as what it was. But how would you be able to resist him when he couldn’t resist you for some reason? You weren’t sure where the instinctive draw came from. But if he felt it when he touched you, the way you felt it when his finger touched your cheek it was not something to be easily denied. Not anymore. Not when you had nowhere to go. Not when he was in so deep.

Harry’s face drew near to yours slowly. You both understood what was happening. The grumble in your tummy had been replaced with a new hunger the moment he touched you. He had gotten you all riled up and angry, and you’d done the same to him, but the derivative was that you both wanted the same thing in the end. Even if you shouldn’t. And that had you both on edge. Mad even.

“I fucking don’t know what I’m doing here,” Harry spoke his words in breaths that fell warm against your lips when you closed your eyes as his face was too close to keep eye contact any longer. You felt the tip of his nose nudge yours and the moment you turned to nudge your nose into his your lips met again. The push and pull of the kiss, the heat of anger and confusion, the twinkling of need and want and lust as the undercurrent of everything all culminated into an aggressive embrace that felt deprived and needy. Maybe even a bit ridiculous given the circumstances.

You pushed Harry down onto the bed. Your hands couldn’t seem to find a proper landing place. Neither could his. Your tongue and wet lips would not stop their assault. Harry moaned when he felt the bed under his back and he pulled you over him. You had very few thoughts in your brain but all you knew was that Harry was a good kisser. Yes, it was a bit wet and raucous but he put emotion into it which sent your body afloat. You placed your palms over his t-shirt-covered pecs and pushed yourself up. Harry had his hands on your hips, squeezing.

You watched him closely as you started to pull the bottom hem of his t-shirt upward to peel it off. Harry shifted under you and pulled at his shirt, sitting up a bit to finish taking it off. Then he took your black t-shirt and slowly began to move it upward. You lifted your hands over your head and the cotton material was gone in a flash. You hadn’t bothered with a bra or panties under your clean clothes. You weren’t really sure why mostly because it was hot out and even inside the motel room you were a bit sticky from the heat.

Harry’s hands moved upward from your waist to your breasts, his thumbs circling your nipples softly. You stayed perched in his lap and watched his large hands encase your tits. You weren’t sure what to do with your own hands as you placed them on his shoulders and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to just be in the moment. You didn’t know how long Harry would allow this to continue. Perhaps he’d stop again like he had the last time.

When you felt his wet lips kiss the tip of your left nipple you sighed and put your fingers into his hair. You hoped to a god you didn’t believe in that he’d just let you have him for the night. That he wouldn’t stop.

Harry moved his mouth to your right nipple, gently licking and kissing just the tip which left you with goosebumps and a carnal need to be devoured by him. You knew what his mouth was capable of and you wouldn’t mind having it again.

When he moved his mouth upward over your clavicle and to your neck, slowly then to your jaw you tugged at his hair to pull him back. You needed to look him in the eyes to speak, “Please don’t stop, Harry. I can’t handle it anymore,” your words were cut short when Harry’s mouth landed on yours and he cradled you close to his chest before moving you down to the bed, your back hitting the comforter below.

Harry didn’t answer you with words but his lips on your skin were all that you needed to know he wasn’t planning on stopping. Not this time anyway. With the delicate pucker of his lips under your jawline and his hands softly dragging down the sides of your body you felt his fingers find the elastic of your waistband before he moved his hands upward again to your arms and moved them above your head.

With his hips squared with yours, he gently lowered himself between your legs, causing you to part your thighs to give him room.

“Ahhh!” You moaned when you felt him stiff over your center. He softly rutted himself downward over you and your hips instinctively lifted upward toward him, pressing your crotch to his already thickened prick.

Harry moved a hand from where he was holding your arms above your head and grasped your outer thigh, moving it flat to the bed as he continued pressing kisses to your lips and licking into your mouth. Harry gasped in between kissing and lapping at your mouth before he began to move downward again. He stopped when he met the top of your ribs under your breasts and looked up at you, “I’m gonna lick your kitty again. Make you come. And if you still want me I’m gonna fuck you,” another kiss to your skin and a gasp from your lips with his eyes still on yours, “keep your hands above your head.”

So you did what the detective wanted. You kept your arms lying flat above your head as Harry’s lips moved down slowly, warm and wet, soft.

Your shorts were easily dragged down and off your legs, leaving you bare before him. You still hadn’t shaved your pussy or trimmed even. You also hadn’t shaved your legs since the night you went to the Warwick so you were a bit prickly. But Harry didn’t seem to mind any of it. He sat back, his large hands grasping the back of your knees, making you bend your legs as he pushed your thighs together and knees toward your chest.

He began by kissing the back of your thighs. The way he was drawing it out was making you crazy. You wanted his big mouth on your pussy again but he wasn’t giving you what you wanted so fast. When you groaned and craned your neck up to see him, you could only see the top of his brown curls until it disappeared as he kissed lower, your legs in the way. With your hands above your head, you couldn’t lean up to watch him as you wanted, so you just laid your head back and closed your eyes to let him work his magic. You knew it was magic because the first time he ever ate you out he made you come. Which isn’t typical of any guy. There’s usually quite a learning curve.

When Harry settled himself down further you heard him inhale and then speak, “Tasted so good the other night. Needed to get my face between your legs again,” he dabbed a kiss flat over your slit and you moaned, trying to pull your head up to see him, but he was now lowered over your pussy and with your knees bent up to your chest you couldn’t see his face, only his shoulders and arms.

The moment his tongue found your crease and dug in and upward you were lost. Like a soul floating in the atmosphere, wandering the earth in search of a body to possess. It wasn’t long before Harry released your legs and his fingers were submerged into your warm entrance. You were so needy. It had been too long since you’d really been with anyone. You spent so much time luring and thieving that you didn’t do a lot of fucking.

Harry’s tongue and his fingers on you were a joy to your body. The noises you were making had him chuckling and smiling as he continued sucking your clit and fucking you with his fingers. It had also been long forgotten that you were meant to keep your hands above your head because your fingers were in Harry’s hair as you were bucking upward and panting his name. Harry had one free hand which he used on himself, you noted because now you could see him since your legs were spread apart and Harry had pushed his joggers down past his hips. You could see his shoulder and his arm moving in a steady rhythm, he was stroking himself as he was making you come in his mouth with a shout. A ridiculous noise left your lungs when you quivered and tried to close your thighs around his head, but Harry didn’t stop until you calmed. Your chest was heaving in harsh breaths when Harry sat up, his hands still down the front of his sweats, stroking himself slowly.

“Let me give you a blow job, Harry,” you sat up and placed your hand where his was. Your other hand pushed at his joggers to bring them down further and Harry’s darkened pupils and wet lips were sultry and you just wanted to show him your gratitude.

Harry began to shake his head no but you pushed him at his chest gently and sat up to your knees, “Let me, at least a little. Want to taste you more in my mouth then you can fuck me,” you looked up to his darkened eyes with a small smile, “plus I could use a few minutes.”

Harry smiled, a closed-mouth smile, one side of his mouth quirked up a little more as he leaned back and pushed his sweatpants off and then spread his legs for you. You rearranged yourself to settle in between his legs and took a deep breath.

And like the time before, you started off licking all around his long shaft and upward until you’d wetted him with your saliva and ran your tongue over his tip. Harry’s lips were parted as he watched you and you braced yourself for sticking him in your mouth. You were sure you couldn’t take him in all the way quite yet but you were gonna give it a shot.

When you wrapped your lips around his sensitive tip he let out the smallest pant and put a hand up into your hair, moving it to the side so he could keep watch. Using your tongue flat under his shaft along the vein you dipped down further, taking him into your mouth a little more and you used both of your hands to stimulate the base of his cock where you couldn’t quite get to with your mouth.

You pulled back and spit down over him, your eyes on his, and then smoothed your saliva down over him. He was nice and slick in your hand and then you sucked at his tip, running your tongue along the underside of his frenulum and dipping it into his small slit. He moaned. Finally a moan, a noise you knew was from pleasure.

You kept at it, bringing him into your mouth a little and then focusing your attention on his tip, keeping your hands on his shaft to stimulate him fully.

Each time you dipped down to bob over him for a moment you really had to open your mouth as wide as possible. He was thick and god you didn’t think you’d ever be able to take him all the way in.

You lowered yourself the tiniest bit and looked up at him for a moment and he was watching your mouth and your eyes already. He looked like he was in heaven and that’s really all you wanted. So you chanced to take him deeper and his tip scraped against the back of your throat and you gagged, pulling off of him, coughing. You kept a hand at work as you wiped your mouth and Harry smiled at you. Just before you could go back down Harry used his hand in your hair to cradle your face as he sat up, “S’enough. For now.”

“Sorry, I am out of practice, and you’re just…” you felt a little embarrassed. You were sure he’d had better. Not that you weren’t good, but Harry’s prick was not average in size, which was what you’d been used to working with in the past.

Harry chuckled and shushed you, “You’re amazing. Felt really good. We can try another time if you really want. How do you feel?”

You cleared your throat and raised your brows, “Good. Uh…” but before you finished your sentence Harry had pulled you in for a soft kiss and you tasted yourself on him. Harry’s mouth was addictive. The way he kissed you felt like you were the only person in the world. All of his affection and attention was focused on you and the kiss and it made you dizzy and unfocused. You moved your lips with his and drew his tongue into your mouth, sucking it in as you put your hands on his shoulders.

Harry pulled you in closer, his body flush against yours and his dick pressed to your tummy, warm and still damp from your saliva, “Do you want to have sex with me? I brought condoms,” Harry asked as he moved his lips against your mouth.

You nodded and squeaked out a yes when Harry grabbed your waist and nudged you down to the bed. Harry got off the bed, the mattress releasing his weight, and you pushed yourself up a little to watch him. His body was so well built. Broad and nicely muscled, soft at the edges, barely a dip where his waist met his hips. His lats were well shaped too, the man clearly worked out regularly. You knew cops had to work out, but Harry was in exceptional shape. He not only worked out for his job, but he worked out to look good too. Then the tattoos. The smattering of hair at his chest and where his happy trail gradually got thicker toward the base of his shaft. God help you.

Harry climbed back into the bed with the condom wrapper in hand lifting it up so you could see it as he tore it open and slowly positioned the rubber over his tip to roll it down his shaft as far as it would go.

Harry climbed between your legs, pushing them apart as you lowered your back down to the mattress, keeping your eyes on his, “We’ll go slow. I can tell your little pussy needs some attention, Y/n. Yeah?”

You bit your lip and nodded. Harry’s cocky smile had your heart pounding. You knew he was gonna tear you in half with that prick of his and you couldn’t wait to feel it. And he was right. Your pussy needed some attention.

Harry kissed you gently as he moved a hand to the back of your head, cradling the nape of your neck and the underside of your skull. You placed your feet flat on the mattress, knees bent and the front of Harry’s thighs were pressing into the insides of yours. He pushed himself up so he could see your face and you put a hand down between your body and his to grasp his cock. You smoothed him through your slick crease and his nostrils flared when he groaned.

“Please fuck me,” you nearly purred when Harry pushed forward and the tip of him slid to your entrance. You moved your hand once he was positioned and grabbed onto his shoulder as he continued to drive himself inward, pushing past your tight muscle and into your wet insides. Your breaths deepened, and Harry's throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly.

“Fuck…” he whispered when he drew back and plunged in deeper. He didn’t lie when he said he’d go slow. Excruciatingly slow. But it’s what you needed. To adjust to him. To really feel him as he entered you, deeper on each thrust. Your insides split apart to make way for him as he entered and drew back, pushing himself in and then out. Slow, steady strokes as you sighed and began to relax under his motions.

“Okay?” Harry breathed out the question. He was very much feeling your tight walls squeezing his condom-covered cock. But you were so wet he was easily able to slip in and out.

“Yes. It feels good, Harry…” your own words were a whisper when he continued rocking into you slowly. It did feel good. Too good. Now you’d never want to sleep with anyone average-sized again you were sure of it. Having a thick cock parting your walls and thrusting in so deep felt like sustenance. His ridges were dragging against your sensitive spots inside and reaching into you like you hadn’t felt before. It was as if all of your nerve endings were being roused by his prick as it pushed and pulled within you.

Harry dipped down to press his lips to yours, his cock continuing to slowly drill into you. You kept your legs spread, feel flat, and thrust your hips upward at each dip. Harry kept his hand at the back of your head and his other he used for leverage so he wasn’t crushing you.

His center was being wetted by you and soon, the sound of his cock plunging into your hole was slushy and sticky sounding in the room and then the noise was met with the creak of the bed underneath as Harry began to fucking into you a little faster. You’d opened up nicely for him, perfectly and he was able to press his dick in completely, totally sheathed by you.

Harry paused his strokes and pushed himself up, removing his lips from yours, “Need a second. Fuck your pussy feels good on me,” he panted his words. You moved your hands up to touch his pecs and feel his hair and the rounded muscles underneath. His nipples were hard and you wanted to suck on them but he was just out of reach with the way he hovered over you.

Harry opened his eyes and looked down at you, his lids low and his gaze dropping to your tits, “Fucking beautiful. Why are you so naughty?”

You laughed and clenched around his cock and Harry gasped and widened his eyes, “You’re begging to be punished aren’t you?” he said with a laugh.

You offered him a cheeky smile, “Of course, not detective. I’m a good girl.”

Harry licked his lips and grinned, “Yeah? Good girls like being fucked by the cop who’s gonna send them to jail?” He thrusted upward sharply causing you to yelp.

You responded your words breathy, “Maybe I don’t want to go to jail. Hoping the pussy is good enough to make you forget anything about the case,” you bit your lip.

Harry repeated his sharp thrust, the grin still on his face. Now his cock was deep inside of you, so far in that he wasn’t pulling back anymore, just digging into you further on each thrust, pushing you upward slightly. The ache it caused in your tummy was delicious and you moaned in ecstasy.

“We’ll have to see about that,” another roll of his hips upward, “but you’re still a bad girl, Y/n.”

When Harry shifted his legs he sat back a bit and dragged your hips with him, the back of your thighs were laid over the top of his so now he could watch himself plunge into you. He began to fuck into you like you were a naughty girl. It was hard and relentless. He was smacking into you, his thighs working himself in and out rapidly and your body was being rocked up and down, and tits bouncing like a rag doll. Harry began moaning a little louder, his cock was feeling the tightness of the new position, and the view he had was making him lose it. Your pussy might just be good enough to make him forget everything. Might be.

Your gasps and moans came out on each thrust of Harry into you. You grasped onto the comforter and your mouth dropped open wide when you felt his fingers press and rub your clit up and down. The sensation of being fucked hard, with a thick cock, and having your clit stimulated at the same time took your breath away. Your body wasn’t your own at that moment. The orgasm that you felt coming was not something you could stop even if you wanted to. Harry was trying to fuck an orgasm out of you because he was about to come himself. Your body and your attitude, your noises, and your hot wet pussy were insane. He was losing control. But he had no wherewithal. Not at that moment. He didn’t want it. He only wanted you and his release.

If you had neighbors, they certainly could hear you. There was no mistaking what was happening in Room 8 at the Arbuckle Inn. Not only were the walls thin and old, but the bed was also rocking, and Harry was fucking into you so good and hard that the thud of skin smacking was almost louder than your own moans and Harry’s grunts and gasps. But god it felt so good to get fucked. Finally. And it wasn’t just getting fucked by anyone. Harry’s attention to detail was phenomenal. He knew to get your clit in on the action too. So many times you’d been getting it good by some guy but you usually had to help yourself in the clit department. But Harry played your body exactly like it needed to be played.

Harry held your left thigh in place as your right thigh slid off of his thigh down to the mattress, your body rocking up and down on each of his plunges. He never stopped moving his fingers.

When you felt the soft tickle of your orgasm begin to blossom over your center and outward toward your thighs you sucked in a sharp breath and felt your legs shake. Harry let out a moan, so loud and so sexy when he looked down and saw your body tremble as he pounded into you. His moan caused you to tip, your small entrance muscle tightening and pulsing and your walls clenching over his cock as he continued to push into you, feeling you squeeze around him as you came with a cry.

Harry didn’t wait for his own release, he choked out a moan and poured into his condom, thrusting upward harshly into your cunt, dipping deep into you, imagining his come coating your cervix and your slick walls, his balls tucked up against his body, releasing his come.

Sex. That’s what you needed. Real sex. Not just a dildo you pumped into your pussy while watching something on Pornhub. Sex. Sex with a man. Sex with Harry.

You both breathed heavily and Harry’s weight over your chest felt hot but comforting. His chest rose and fell rapidly and you could feel his heart pounding in his chest. You put your hands on his back and softly rubbed your palm over his smooth skin. Harry moaned and nuzzled his face into your neck, his arms moving up to cradle your head. It felt nice to be held. Even if it didn’t mean anything. Even if Harry was still taking you to jail. The sex and the affection were something you’d been missing.

But it was no different for Harry. He hadn’t had sex with anyone in a couple of months. Not since he’d started seriously working your case. He’d been busy and hadn’t had time for a fun night out with a quick lay. And even a quick lay didn’t always do it for him. He had no trouble getting someone to fuck. Which wasn’t always his favorite way. He liked a bit of a challenge, and always preferred someone with a bit of fire under their personality. But that was not always so easy to come by. Many women were easy and sweet and that was nice for a quick thing but it didn’t feel like anything more than just sex. Sex with you was forbidden and fiery. Your attitude drove him nuts but it made his cock twitch and his heart race.

“This is nice,” he spoke into your neck and you nodded and hummed.

When he lifted his head his hair was a mess and his cheeks were pink. You loved his bright, clear green eyes. Harry could very well be the most attractive man you’d ever met. Or maybe it was just the post-orgasm bliss you were feeling.

“Yeah. Needed that,” you whispered when you drew your hands up into his hair.

Harry’s brows stitched together and he swallowed, his throat bobbing. He looked at you with worry on his face, “I’m fucked.”

In more ways than one, detective.

Part 4*

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[warwickroyals]

beginning -previous - next

I WILL NOT CALL WOMEN THE B-WORD. I WILL TREAT WOMEN WITH RESPECT x 100

I don't know if you've heard: but there's gonna be a Red Reckoning on Wednesday ❤️‍🔥

[ARTHUR] [MUMBLING] I can't believe it's still raining.

[???] You should be grateful it’s just rain. I heard Collingwood got a boatload of snow over the weekend.

[ARTHUR] Yeah, there's a reason most of us only go up there in the summer. Sooo . . . Yeah.

[???] You should be grateful twofold. His Majesty has been preoccupied. The beginning of a new Parliamentary session is always a busy period. So, It's likely he doesn't know. Her Majesty The Queen, however . . . Horrified was the word The Warwick Post used. Don't do much, just apologize, admit fault and be a good boy, okay?

[???] Another thing: while you're there I want you to write a few apology letters addressed to some of the residents. Be sure to use palace paper. They've already been typed up, just copy them. It'll be a nice touch, the handwriting.

[ARTHUR] Yeah, whatever.

[???] I know you're upset that your father came down on you, but it's in all of our interests that we keep your image pristine. That means being mindful of your public behaviour and not talking to the press under any circumstances.

[ARTHUR] Why is he so obsessed with fixing his image now, though? I don’t get it.

[???] Things have consequences, but to constantly be characterized by your past mistakes makes moving forward difficult. And it’s not just about him, last year's security hoopla—

[ARTHUR] That wasn't a consequence, we didn’t even do anything—

[???] It was a consequence of your father’s estrangement from the palace.

[???] We’re on thin ice. If you want to maintain the privileges that come with a royal lifestyle, you have to operate with more discretion—You can roll your eyes if you want, I mean it. Your father's official offices have been shut down for good, he’s done, what you want depends on you.

[???] Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you? This is the second time we’ve had this conversation.

[ARTHUR] I understood you the first time, I just chose to ignore you, and I am not having this talk a third time. You’re my father’s comms secretary, Carruthers, you’re not family.

 [CARRUTHERS] You are your mother’s child, without a doubt. Now, go see your granny, since family means so much to you.

~

[IRENE] Was that number one hundred? Drat! Now you see, I've lost count.

[ARTHUR] Grandma, pluh-eze! My hand is going to fall off if you make me go on any longer.

[IRENE] This is how my governess used to punish me and my sisters whenever we misbehaved. Sometimes old tricks work the best. Although this is rather time-consuming.

[ARTHUR] And torturous. 

[IRENE] If you want a real lesson in torture, you can go show that video to your grandfather.

[ARTHUR] No, no, no!  That’s totally not necessary. I've learned my lesson. I promise.

[IRENE] Very well. Now, what do you say to all the women and girls you've hurt with your misogynistic language?

[ARTHUR] Uh, I'm sorry for saying the B-word, women and girls?

[IRENE] I’m not sure if I believe you. Your aunts are doing an ad campaign for Girl Up! next week. Perhaps you should attend one of the recording sessions. They are looking for volunteers.

[ARTHUR] I’d rather not encroach on their scared girl power meeting with my male-ness.

[IRENE] Feminism is for everyone, I keep trying to tell you boys.

[ARTHUR] Yeah, but Girl Up! isn’t for everyone, key difference. We have conflicting interests.

[IRENE] You know, Duckie, even when I'm supposed to be I can't stay angry at you for long.

[ARTHUR] It's because I'm your favourite and I'm oh so charming and handsome. Plus, I came all this way to give you these flowers, oh, and this . . .

Okay, stop, now you’re being a kiss-ass. Good grandmothers don’t have favourites, by the way.

Yeah, but, between you and me? I’m still your favourite. You can say it’s Alex whenever he asks, because he has bad hair and all those commitment issues, but I think we both know the truth.

Speaking of hair, my true favourite grandson would let me cut his. You’re slowly transforming into one of the Bee Gees. Okay, rude!  And not even the main Bee Gee, you look like Robin, Arthur, Robin!

[ARTHUR] I like the Bee Gees, and I think I'm pulling the look off.

[IRENE] Truth be told, you do remind me of one of my favourite people.

[ARTHUR] My dad?

[IRENE] Oh, God, no, you're far more relaxed than your father was at your age. More outgoing, too. You’re close, though.

[irlwakko]

by the way I know league sucks but people who are watching arcane without playing league are missing out on SO much

Every character featured in Arcane has voice lines with each other when they meet in battle (including Caitlyn saying as she’s dying “Tell Vi that I…”)

When Fiddlesticks, who becomes the embodiment of each character’s deepest fear, sees an enemy Jinx, he starts screaming “All your fault! All your fault!”

You’re missing out on a lot of cool Zaunites like Janna, Renata Glasc, and Zeri. There’s also………….. Warwick. and yeah whatever piltover’s there too i guess

There’s an alternate universe where Jinx is a magical girl archetype, fighting on a team of other magical girls to defend peace and light in the universe. She still loves to blow stuff up though as always

Another alternate universe where Ekko’s the rapper for a band. Also just everything about Ekko as a playable character in general, his abilities mess with the game so much

You’re also missing out on ALL the other amazing regions in League with their own lore and characters

League has more canon lesbian/gay ships and a trans-coded character, but none of the characters involved appear in Arcane

[mangemaw]

Yuisa tuts. "A girl not tellin' you she's fooling around is not your fault, little wolf, not somethin' you ought to have to ask, no?" Olivia drops a name - two of them. Autumn and Aria. Instagram. She'll have a look later, maybe. It's not important right now.

"I said might, depends; quicker it heals, less its gonna leave a mark, you'll probably be fine, still." She daubs at it with something on a cotton ball. "Best safe, yeah?" Yui starts packing the first aid back up.

She feels for Olivia, she does, but her soothing consolation isn't endless. Yui asks her question and Olivia's answer makes her scoff. "Ay, pobrecita I am far from untouchable, you believe that."

The Warwick sighs, shakes her head at all this loser-talk."You can win next time. Always gonna be more fights, Livi. You're a Warwick Wolf. You stop with this pity party shit yeah?" Her eyes narrow, her face taking on a serious expression. "You fuck her up next she tries to start more shit about it, simple as that. Don't even give her a chance."

Yuisa sets the first aid shit aside, play-punches Olivia on the chin, knuckles dusting gently along her jawline. Another question, then, another answer, and Yuisa's face then goes a little stern. Could be pack issues, then.

"I'll follow up, see if I can't get answers about why she thinks its okay to touch her betters" She says. Not with other Alphas, because there's only one Alpha. But if there's some mongrel picking fights. "For now you don't worry about this, yeah? Anybody says shit to you, you tell them to fuck off; any fight you walk away from is a lesson."

Some people don't get to walk away.

Yuisa stands, holds her hand out to pull Olivia up. "C'mon, let me get you a drink huh? Out front. Not all hiding and shit back here. You can tell everyone about this pendeja you beat up."

Yuisa's laughter makes Olivia open a shy smile in between sniffs and shook her head at herself, "I should've known better. My love life... well, it never goes well and that was too easy, I should've known it wasn't that simple." There was a small part of her that tried to convince her that she was more of a victim than anything else, but Olivia's self-loathing spoke louder than anything else at that moment. "I just wanted to have fun. Never crossed my mind to ask her if she had a girlfriend."

As her Alpha continued to check her wounds and take care of her, Olivia becomes very aware that she doesn't remember anyone ever doing that for her before. Maybe her parents took her of her before she died, maybe someone in the foster system cared for her, but she never had any memories of that. She knows then and there she's always going to be thankful for what Yuisa's doing for her.

"Autumn, I think. I saw her and Aria on Instagram together, but I don't really know her." That doesn't feel right. After the fight Olivia feels like she knows quite a bit about the other girl, even though most of it is just how her fist feels against her face. It was a rather intimate fight, though, so maybe she did learn a thing or two about her.

She brought her fingers to her own wounds, wincing a little at the contact. "Oh, I thought- the healing..." Maybe she could pull off the scarred look, but she had to admit she was worried. Olivia was much more vain than she let on and she was quite a fan of her own face. It was silly now, looking back, thinking that being a werewolf would make her immune to something like this.

"Honestly? No, I didn't. You look untouchable to me." she looked down again, trying to swallow her own tears, maybe start to move on from what happened, though she knew very well that this would be much easier said than done. "...I just wish I won once, you know? Why am I always the one getting screwed over?"

Olivia sits up and nods confidently; it was her chance to prove that she did at least something right, that she was getting better as a werewolf despite everything. "She's a werewolf. I smelled it on her before she even hit me. I'm sure of it." She takes a moment to consider if she should share more before she spoke again, "...I called her a mutt during the fight and she didn't say anything? So I think someone bit her."

[a-little-revolution]

Let me ask one more question about little people in fantasy media if you don't mind. I really appreciate you being open to sharing your perspective in such a detailed and thoughtful way.

What advice do you have for people who are trying to create stories using lore from a genre that has such a long history of many different bigotry ingrained in it? Many fantasy tropes and lore are so tangled with the discriminatory views of the society they were made in, that it's difficult to know how to fix it and strike a balance between using creative ideas available to the public consciousness and trying to alter them to remove things that perpetuate real world harm.

For example, I am a dungeon master running a game in a sort of stereotypical high fantasy setting. What in your opinion would be the ideal thing to do? Trash all the lore about DnD dwarves and have them not exist in this universe? Change the lore to make it more clear they aren't just short people, but a different nonhuman race altogether? Call them something else? Leave it as it is but have fleshed out "dwarf" characters so their height isn't their only prominent trait? What about gnomes and halflings? Should we try to just distance them from the real human condition?

I would be fine just not having fantasy dwarves exist, but that also feels a bit disrespectful. Have you ever seen a piece of media that had a fantasy "dwarf" race (and not a human with dwarfism) that did it right, or do you think that's inherently impossible?

Hello! The only race of fantastical dwarfs that I feel did it right was 1988's Willow starring Warwick Davis - but what made the film fantasy was not the village of little people, but the presence of magic in their lives. I didn't find it overly whimsical, and it didn't follow the cookie cutter set up of Snow White or Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. All the little people lived whole lives, with families and culture, personalities and journeys. The film was made in the 80s and has it's faults, but overall I really enjoy it :)

I strongly feel that the fantasy race of "dwarves" should not exist. Any lore surrounding the made up race was created to dehumanize real life little people. People with dwarfism should be included in all genres, but the made up race of "dwarves" in the fantasy sphere is not true inclusion, particularly since it's usually able bodied people playing as these characters. I'll leave it to fellow little people to decide their own comfort levels on the subject, but when in doubt I'd prefer people outside the community to stick to creatures like fairies, sprites, borrowers, etc. when looking for small fantasy characters.

For more of my thoughts on the matter, see posts here, here, and here.

Hope this helps!

- Elliot (they/them)

[sreegs]

Do you know much about ciders? I'm somewhat new to drinking and I find I much prefer them to beer (all the beers I try just feel really bitter to me?)

Haven't really tried many spirits or cocktails either tbh. I live near a pretty nice store so sourcing isn't an issue so much as paying for the stuff. Anything simple and relatively cheap you might recommend to an amateur drink mixer? Maybe on the sweeter end like fruity/minty?

I tried to get into ciders, I honestly can't say I learned much but I do like to drink them seasonally. I don't know good national brands off the top of my head because cider never caught on here in America during the beer resurgence. I know that cider is much more popular in the UK for example, so if you're there and not here, then you have more options.

I do like a local cider though. Since I live in NYC I'm in apple country. Farmers markets have them and there's cideries not too far outside the city (if anyone here is an NYC resident, go check out Penning's near Warwick).

Cider is usually graded along the dry/sweet axis much like wine. There can also be sour ciders as well. This heavily depends on the type of apple and the aging and oxidation that occurs. Additionally it's not unusual to have ciders with added honey that are weird cider/mead hybrids. Those will also be sweet.

Sweet ciders are straightforward: they'll have a profile closer to non-alcoholic cider. Bright and fruity. Dry ciders are called as such because they're, well, not sweet. It's the absence of sweetness. They're not bitter, they may also be described as "tangy" but not always. Really dry ciders make your mouth feel dry after sipping. I've enjoyed ciders up and down the sweet/dry axis, can't say I have a favorite.

Sour ciders are similar to sour beers. They range from "that's a little funky" to "is this komboucha?". I find sours are a love-it-or-hate-it kind of thing so if you find one and you're unsure, buy the smallest amount possible.

Fun fact: cider was once the most popular alcohol in western Europe and more coveted than champagne. Colonial Americans were drinking cider when they weren't stealing land from the natives and committing genocide. Cider and rum, mostly. And beer. Please note this was not cider's fault.

Simple, sweet, fruity, minty. A couple options depending on what you consider easy. I'll give you a couple "proper" recipes as well as the easy way to make them. Oh actually, three. Let's start with the really simple one. Fernet and cola. Don't cringe, it's great. Start with 1 oz of fernet to 8 oz of cola (or 1.5oz to 12 oz if you're using a whole can of coke). serve with lots of ice and a lemon slice. If you like it, increase the Fernet. A proper pour is 5 oz of fernet with a enough cola added to top off the glass. Use bottled cane sugar cola if you can get it. Oh, and make sure it's Fernet Branca. Don't be tempted by Branca Menta, you'll be over-minted.

Try a Mojito. The making of a mojito requires muddling but it needs to be done with finesse as to not pulverize the leaves. Muddle 3-5 mint leaves at the bottom of a shaker with 1/2 oz of simple syrup. Add 2 oz of white rum and 3/4 oz of lime juice. Pour in the ice, shake gently, serve on the rocks topped with club soda/seltzer and a fresh mint sprig.

If you're new to muddling, don't muddle this drink. Muddling too hard will break the leaves make the drink bitter. Grab a sprig or two of mint leaves in one hand and slap the leaves against your other wrist a few times. This will bruise the leaves and express the oils enough without having to muddle. Pluck the leaves and toss them in the shaker with the simple syrup and the rest of the ingredients. Make the same way as above.

Now, if it's the middle of the summer and you just want a drink that's practically whiskey mint snow cone, make a Mint Julep. This is best made in an "old fashioned" style glass (wide, squat glass that holds 8-12 oz) if you don't have the traditional metal cups. Same techniques for the mint as above for the start except you're muddling the mint alone (or doing the wrist slap + pluck the leaves trick). Bruised/muddled mint in the bottom of the glass. Cover with lots of crushed or pebble ice, like a snowcone basically. Pour in 2 ounces of bourbon. Pour over, slowly, one ounce of simple syrup. Let it sit for a minute, garnish with more mint, drink with a straw, stirring as needed.

If you don't have crushed ice, take regular ice cubes and crush them in a clean cotton cloth with something heavy. If you don't even want to bother, just stir for 30 seconds before serving. The trick is, since the crushed ice has more surface area, it melts faster than whole cubes and helps meld the flavors together. This is definitely the hardest of the three drinks to make and it's the most that's "best if done right". But a little elbow grease is enough to make this a great drink.