#Win For Honor Game Codes

[fiastomatocheek]

CHOP CHOP LOVE

pair: will smith x f!reader; will smith x athlete!reader

genre: romantic fluff, domestic sweetness, celebrity realism.

warnings: none beyond mild teasing and tooth-rotting love.

summary: you and will, sit down together for your first ever joint interview on the graham norton show. between laughter, career talk, parenting stories, and memories, you both reflect on the rare kind of love that defied busy schedules, different sports, and public pressure. for the first time, the world gets to see not just the power couple but the best friends behind the jerseys.

fia’s note: okay so this is a totally different universe for dad!will, in this one, reader are also an athlete! i didn’t specify what sport reader play because i wanted to leave it open for your imagination. maybe reader’s into something competitive and fast-paced, or maybe it’s something low-key but still intense. whatever sport you love or vibe with right now, just slide that version of you into this universe. it’s all about having fun with it and making it feel personal to you!

tagging team fia ! — @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @dancerbailey3 @mashmashi @kell9rs @nokiaholland @smiley-roos @macka @alwaysclassyeagle @hopefulsuitcasemoneyzonk

fia’s masterlist | join fia’s taglist | fic discussion | fia's nav.

You sit down beside Will on the famous red couch, just happy to be here, next to Will, in this rare moment of where it’s not about your sports or media days or parenting twins… it’s about both of you. Together.

“This is a proper treat,” Graham leaning forward with his trademark mischief.

“A married couple, both top-tier athletes, parents to twins, and somehow still disgustingly in love? I’m jealous, and I don’t even know where to start.”

Will chuckles, his thumb brushing your knuckles.

“We’re just happy to sit still for once. No rink, no gym, no toddlers throwing Cheerios.”

You nod, grinning. “Yeah, this is basically a date night. You’re welcome, Graham.”

The audience laughs, and Graham claps delightedly. “A date night on my couch? I’m honored, Mr. & Mes. Smith. But seriously, how do you schedule your lives? Two athletic careers, twins, do you… do you ever sleep?”

“Uhm… we don’t,” Will says, deadpan. “We just vibe on chaos.”

“Lies,” you counter, nudging him.

“We’ve got this color-coded calendar that’s basically NASA-level logistics. My trainer’s on it, his coach is on it, even our nanny gets pinged when we’re double-booked.”

Graham blinks dramatically. “I can’t even sync my calendar with my mum. You’re superheroes.”

You and Will exchange a look, stifling giggles like kids caught passing notes.

“Okay, Let’s rewind a little bit,” Graham says, eyes twinkling.

“Will, you’re a star with the San Jose Sharks, NHL’s golden boy. And you,” he turns to you,

“An absolute force in your sport. How did this power couple come to be?”

Will’s grin softens, his eyes flicking to you.

“Teammate dragged her to one of my games. He’s like, ‘Come on, meet my friend, the athlete.’ I turn around, and she’s standing there, all ‘I’d rather be napping’ energy.”

You laugh, because it’s true.

“I’d just come from practice, totally wiped. My friend guilt-tripped me into going. I was not ready for hockey charm.”

“And yet,” Will says, squeezing your hand, “fate said, ‘Chop chop chop, let’s make this happen.’”

Graham leans in. “First impression of Will?”

You tilt your head, smirking. “He was so… red. Fresh-off-the-ice, cheek tomato-level red. Sweaty helmet hair, cheeks like stoplights. I thought, ‘Oh cute, but someone get this man a towel.’”

The audience roars, and Will clutches his chest.

“My face was out here winning her heart.”

“Honestly, though,” you add, softer,

“He was sweet. I’d been a Sharks fan forever, so meeting a player was cool. I just didn’t expect… us, you know.” You gesture between you, and the crowd awws.

Graham raises an eyebrow. “A Sharks fan before Will? So you were already tweeting about his team?”

“Oh, yeah,” you say.

“I’ve got receipts, tweets from years back, hyping the Sharks. Probably manifesting him without knowing it.”

Will leans toward Graham, mock-whispering.

“She summoned me with her fandom. I had no choice.”

Graham cackles. “Okay, careers. Different sports, Will tearing up the ice, you dominating your field. Any competitive tension?”

You both answer at once.

“No.” — “Yes.”

You turn to each other, bursting into laughter.

“Okay, maybe a little,” you admit.

“If I outrun him in a sprint, he’s like, ‘Bet you can’t do a slapshot.’ It’s his go-to.”

“She’s worse,” Will says, grinning.

“Honeymoon in Italy, we’re strolling through this gorgeous piazza, and she goes, ‘Race you to that fountain.’ In sandals!”

“And I won,” you say, pointing at him.

“Because I was carrying our luggage and your gelato!”

Graham is doubled over. “So, no relaxing honeymoon vibes?”

“We relaxed,” you say, then crack up again.

“But really,” Will adds, his tone shifting to something softer.

“That trip was perfect. I’d lose a hundred fountain races just to see her smile like that again.”

He looks at you, eyes warm, and your heart does a little flip.

The audience coos, and Graham fans himself.

“Will, you’re making us all swoon. How are you this romantic?”

Will shrugs, a playful glint in his eye.

“She makes it easy. I mean, look at her, my wife, she’s out here killing it in her sport, being the best mom, and still putting up with my sweaty post-game self. I’m just trying to keep up.”

You blush, swatting his arm. “Stop it, you sap.”

“Never,” he says.

Graham claps his hands.

“Okay, let’s talk twins, Charles and Theo Smith, gorgeous names. How’s parenthood with your high-octane lives?”

You squeeze Will’s hand, grinning. “It’s wild. They’re two, and they’re already little tornadoes.”

“Charles is a thrower,” Will says.

“Balls, toys, spaghetti, if it’s in his hands, it’s flying.”

“And Theo’s obsessed with speed,” you add.

“He sprints down the hallway in socks, sliding like he’s auditioning for the Olympics. We’re terrified he’ll crash into a wall.”

Graham laughs. “Are they already little athletes, taking after you?”

“Oh, definitely,” Will says.

“Last week, we set up this mini obstacle course in the backyard, cones, a little slide, toddler stuff. Charles bulldozed through it, and Theo? He’s weaving around cones like he’s got a game plan.”

You nod, laughing.

“I caught Will ‘coaching’ them, like it’s NHL tryouts. He’s whispering, ‘Stick to the left, Theo!’ I’m like, ‘Babe, he’s two. Let him eat dirt first.’”

Will grins. “Gotta start ‘em young. But yeah, they’ve got her fire, stubborn, fast, and way too charming for their own good.”

Graham leans forward.

“So Will, we all wanna know, you’re a young dad for an NHL star, yea sure but what made you so sure about starting a family?”

Will’s expression softens, and he glances at you, his voice full of feeling.

“I just… knew. The second I met her, it was like my life clicked into focus. I didn’t want to wait five years, ten years, whatever. I wanted her, us, family. Even with our crazy schedules, she’s always been my home base.”

You bite your lip, caught off guard by the emotion.

“He’s always been all-in,” you say quietly. “Like, we’d be on FaceTime me at a meet, him at an away game and he’d still find a way to send me flowers or a text that’s like, ‘You got this, champ.’”

Will smiles, a little sheepish.

“I proposed like eleven months in because I was on a ‘chop chop chop’ timeline. Couldn’t wait.”

Graham pounces. “Chop chop chop! Explain this madness!”

Will laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s this dumb thing I’d say when we were dating. I knew I wanted to marry her, like, yesterday. So I’d tease her, ‘Chop chop chop, let’s get this love story moving.’”

“He was ridiculous,” you say, but your smile is unstoppable.

“Proposed right after a competition. I’m sweaty, chugging water, barely alive, and he’s on one knee with this ring, saying, ‘Marry me, champ.’”

“Best moment of my life,” Will says, eyes locked on yours.

“She won her event and said yes. Double victory.”

The audience melts, and Graham pretends to wipe a tear.

“You’re killing me. How do you stay this in love with all the pressure careers, kids, the spotlight?”

You pause, glancing at Will.

“He’s my best friend. Even when it’s hard like when I missed his game-winning goal because I was at an event, or he missed my big win for a road trip we make it work. We cheer louder than anyone else for each other.”

Will nods, his voice soft but firm.

“She’s my everything. I’d skate a thousand extra laps just to see her in the stands. And when I watch her compete? I’m her loudest fan, screaming like I’m at a playoff game.”

You laugh, nudging him. “You are loud. I could hear you over my own heartbeat last time.”

Graham claps dramatically. “You’ve ruined every other couple for me. But one last thing, any big plans for the future? More kids, more medals, more fountain races?”

Will grins, glancing at you with a softness that makes your heart skip.

“More of her. That’s the plan. I’ve witnessed her through the pain, the grind, even before all this, her strength, her heart. So if she wants more babies, I’m ready, chop chop chop. But if not, that’s totally fine by me. I’m good as long as it’s what she wants.”

You blush, caught off guard by his earnestness, and swat his arm lightly.

“You’re gonna make me cry on national TV, Smitty.”

The audience awws, and Graham fans himself again.

“Will, you’re setting an impossible standard here! Any response to that?”

You smile, leaning into Will’s shoulder.

“He’s stuck with me, that’s for sure. More medals, maybe. But mostly just… more us. Chasing goals, chasing toddlers, chasing eachother.”

“Chop chop chop,” Will adds, winking at you, and the audience erupts.

Graham throws his hands up.

“That’s it, you’re officially the cutest. Get out of here before I propose to you both myself.”

[episims]

Myshuno Fixes

Now that we have a bingo default that makes its appearance more usable, I thought it would be nice to have the game function properly too 🙃

The main issue with the unmodded version of this object is: 1) it fills your sim's whole fun bar within an in-game hour 2) sims quit the game after reaching max fun

This basically means that full games never occur. Sims appear indecisive about using the object too as they still might join playing when their fun bar is close to max, only to quit almost instantly.

This mod fixes these problems and improves various other aspects of the Myshuno game:

Players don't need to sit facing the bingo console anymore*

The fun gain from playing the game is greatly lower, elders still gain more fun from playing but the increase is moderate

Sims will only quit mid-game for a pressing reason (usually due to other motives dropping or the interaction being canceled)

Players sitting in dining booths no longer cause errors

Players sitting on dining chairs next to tables no longer stop the game from progressing

The advertising of all interactions is lower

The 'practice' interaction is not autonomous anymore

The caller winning anim is revamped so that it doesn't clip with dresses and works better with PF's default

*Sims use a new custom routing for finding a place to play. Playing is possible from chairs, barstools, armchairs, sofas, and dining booths located in the same room as the bingo console and within 10 tiles from it. Sims will choose a free seat close to the console unless their personality is on the shyer end, in which case they look for free seats far away from the console. Sims will stand if no seating is available.

Download (SFS) (alternate)

The file is compressed. Free Time is required as the object gives gaming enthusiasm.

🚨 This mod doesn't work with Myshuno replacements that include custom BHAVs for it. PF's default (obviously) is compatible.

Update (22.12.2024): The tweaks in advertising now apply to non-adult age groups as well.

The preview is by @pforestsims. Thank you for testing, too! Honorable mention to MogHughson whose TV routing code helped me to figure out how to make my own.

[hyunjining]

in honor of stray kids’ 7th debut anniversary, here are some of my favorite hilarious skz moments that i can think of off the top of my head

- seungmin falling in love with the handsome male ghost and willingly letting him drag him away from the other members

- i.n headbutting a ball directly into changbin’s head

- hyunjin repeatedly failing at hitting those poker chips without making the water bottle fall over and then lee know calmly doing it on his first try

- i.n hitting the tee across the room instead of hitting the baseball like 5 times in a row

- [big butt maketh big sound]

- the entire helium-inhaling segment of suspicious lab skz code

- five year old channie saying “moooooom” every time auntie hyunjin did anything in skz family 2

- auntie hyunjin shrieking after accidentally speaking english during the game where they were not supposed to speak english

- “you are the loser!!! you die!!! i kill you!!!” - lee know to changbin

- “what useless thing would you win a gold medal in?" // han: touching butt. [...] touching butt gold medal.

- “excuse me, what is this? where’s the button controlling your sexy mode? sexy mode~ it’s so hot, i got burned!” - changbin to hyunjin

- chan bugging lee know while lee know was holding a pair of scissors and then apologizing profusely because lee know turned the scissors upright

- felix’s 2023 birthday live where the staff gave him angel wings and he flapped his way across the screen and then reality hit and he said “what am i DOING?”

- seungmin: [flops down on the bed] dead. // i.n: you’re dad? // seungmin: i’m dead. // i.n: no you’re my bro.

- hyunjin and felix recounting the time they waxed felix at their old dorm and almost gaving tmi about where exactly they waxed while han looked on in bafflement

- “seungmin in the building? no, seungmin in the car.”

- lee know gifting changbin pink panties for his birthday

- changbin wearing a t-shirt depicting a t-rex fucking the statue of liberty

- han getting a slap on the neck from changbin for being too silly during topline recording

- 3racha winning an award while han and seungmin were on the way to the bathroom and han sprinting to the stage (and hyunjin missing the entire thing bc he was already in the bathroom)

- the “that’s (not) very noice” epidemic of 2024

happy anniversary my skz!!! please keep being silly together for a long, long time!!!

[reidrum]

castling | s.r.

A/N: another deeply self indulgent hurt comfort angst who’s surprised…i wrote this kinda fast so if it’s messy and cheesy sorry :/

cw: gn!reader (pls lmk if i missed something that doesn’t make it gn), hurt comfort, mentions of depression, ambiguous sadness, trivialization of chess, inaccurate chess jargon?, spencer is a darling

summary: in which reader finds it hard to open up and communicate their feelings with spencer, so he comes up with an idea to help

wc: 1.4k

not proofread sry

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3

_______________________________________________

It started during a game of chess, when Spencer was showing you different special moves.

“It’s called castling, the idea is that you move the king two spaces towards the rook and then switch their places to allow more protection for your king than if it was in the center.”

“Why would you want to move the king towards the outside, that seems counterintuitive.”

“Smart girl, that’s a good question,” he says fondly, “It’s kind of a last ditch effort in a sense, the rook is essentially expendable but the castling moves the king out of the line from key pieces like the other king and queen.”

“So, it’s like a rescue mission.”

He smiles, “Like a rescue mission.”

You smile back and continue with your next move. Spencer watches you in earnest as you deliberate the best plan of attack, even though he knows he’s gonna let you win by the end anyway.

“How was your day today?” He watches your demeanor change quickly, your shoulders sagging slightly and your eyebrows furrowing. He knew the answer, he’s a great observant and even more so when it comes to you.

“It was…fine.”

“Just fine?” he challenges, moving his bishop.

You nod and move your knight. You’re waiting for him to move his next piece when you realize he’s not looking at the board anymore.

Looking up you see hazel eyes staring right back at you, “Sweetheart,”

“Spencer, don’t.”

He sighs, “You know,” he moves his pawn, “this isn't the first time that you’ve had a hard time communicating with me how you feel.”

A deep sigh leaves you now, it had always been a struggle for you to show emotion so openly to those you love, mainly Spencer. You just didn’t want to worry him with the throes of your mind, and while Spencer appreciated the sentiment he reminded you repeatedly that he’s there for you through it all and just really wants you to take advantage of that.

“I just want to help you, angel.” he says softly, “I can’t do that if you don’t let me in. You don’t even have to tell me what’s wrong, just that something is wrong.”

Tears well up in your eyes, “I know Spence. I—It’s just, saying out loud that I’m—whatever—makes it real. A—And then you get so worried and I get more anxious—“

“Hey. It’s my job to worry about you. Because I love you,” he places his hands on yours, “But, I was thinking what if we had a code word or something, just a single word, and you can say it or text me or anything and I’ll know that you’re not feeling well.”

Your face softens at his proposal. The irony you face is that your brain has convinced you healing can be done alone, that if you’re the one who fucked up the road you should be the one to repair it. While you know logically healing is more effective when you have support, it doesn’t make it any easier for you to accept the help you need, that Spencer feels you deserve.

“I think…that’s a good idea.”

“Yeah?” he replies, “Do you want to pick the word?”

You think about it for a few minutes. You don’t want to do a silly word like banana or chicken, you want something that maybe doesn’t sound serious but would still convey the intent of the code word.

“Does castling work?” you offer softly.

Spencer’s face morphs into something you can’t quite decipher, but to him it’s a mix of adoration, love, and pure empathy for you. He’s just so touched by the fact you want to use that word, after just discussing the significance of that move. It’s an honor that you trust him enough to be your protecting rook.

“Yeah, that’s perfect angel.”

You give a small nod, “Check.”

___

You knew he wouldn’t judge you, that’s the whole reason you came up with this system. It felt like an emergency contact, which it was, but in a “How bad is too bad before I call?” type of way.

Laid down in your bed, you stared at the glow of your phone with your messages with Spencer open. Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard, daring you to make a move.

Nothing even really happened today, it was just one of those periods where you were in a funk. The voices that lingered in your brain fed you disguised truths and cynicism, and it was hard to feel afloat with support when you couldn’t even tell what was pulling you down.

It didn’t matter though, your tear stained cheeks and puffy red eyes amongst the disarray of your room which satirically matched the chaos in your mind were proof enough that maybe, you weren’t okay.

In this moment it would be stupidly easy to ignore it all and wallow in your own sorrow—Spencer was away on a case and you didn’t know when he was coming back.

So in a leap of faith, or perhaps a lapse in judgment, your thumbs twiddle a message out and press send.

castling

You toss your phone aside and try to avoid thinking about it. He’s probably busy, they’re on a case so he’s probably drawing out the geographical maps or maybe he’s on a raid or maybe he’s—DING.

Cautiously grabbing your phone, you slide the notification.

I’m on the plane, going to land in about an hour or so. I need to make one stop and then I’ll come straight to you, okay?

You stare through the blurriness of your eyes caused by your tears, the words blending together. Before the guilt of texting him and making him aware of your depressed state sinks in, another text comes through.

I love you. See you soon, angel.

Another choked sob releases from your throat, and you put the phone down before any more emotions try to infiltrate you. At some point you end up falling asleep on the bed, your body curled in on itself from the lack of warmth a nice blanket or Spencer could’ve provided.

You’re only stirred awake when you feel a soothing sensation on your head, long nimble yet intentional fingers sifting through your hair. You attempt to open your eyes through the thin crust it’s formed from crying so much, and you’re squinting for the first few moments of vision before registering the human in front of you.

“Hi honey.” Spencer whispers softly as you come to.

“Spence…when did you…”

“Just a couple minutes ago,” the hand in your hair comes to rest on your jaw, “How are you feeling?”

Tired eyes finally meet his brown ones and find nothing but reassurance and concern.

Oh. You’ve worried him now.

The last string of resolve snaps as your face crumbles in and you mutter out apologies mixed in with sniffles and sobs. Spencer moves from his knelt position in front of you to slide in next to you on the bed. He gingerly gathers you in his arms and tucks you into his side whispering it’s okay and you’re safe and i’m here.

After a few long minutes your breathing evens out. “You came.” you sniffled.

He pulls back to look at you with watered eyes, “You called. I’m so proud of you.”

You mumble under your breath, “I didn’t even do anything.”

Spencer shakes his head and tucks you right back in place, feeling the floppy fringe of his hair tickling your forehead, “I know a version of you that would’ve held it all in by yourself. Thank you for letting me be here for you.”

You turn your head into his chest further, letting the hot tears and snot stain his nice button up. His hands rub trails up and down your back, his head bent down to your ear whispering sweet nothings to you. With Spencer delicately taking your defenses down maybe you can finally admit to yourself that you were just too soft for all of it.

“Where did you have to stop by?” you wonder.

He smiles and readjusts you against his body, “I picked up Thai food,” “And some candy, sour of course. And there may be a Snoopy stuffie as well because it reminded me of you.”

You feel a different weight on your heart, not one that’s constricting but one that’s embracing, comforting. In a life where you’ve rarely felt taken care of, or even being worthy of that care, you know with certainty that Spencer would never let you go a day without knowing how much love and care you deserve.

[rpgchoices]

The WINNER of the Tournament of fav tumblr rpg male romances is...

The Master of the Vollante

The Babe of Frontiers

The Heart of the Gate

WYLL RAVENGARD

Enjoy this two minute FANVIDEO DEDICATED TO HIM (don't miss the final quote, it is my favorite), I used the most appropriate song ever. Congrats, Wyll with a y!

(he is the hero, but he also needs a hero to sweep him off his feet, get it?)

With about 1235 votes, Wyll beat Garrus in the finals of the tournament. This gives him the title of best tumblr rpg blorbo and babygirl.

(more under cut about the Wyll's sweep and his character)

Wyll jumped into the tournament qualifying among 69 total characters, and being the most voted of his section in round zero! Wyll was also the most voted OVERALL in round one where he got about 6420 votes against Cullen (88% of votes). Round two saw him winning a very close competition against Zevran, and in round three he won with almost double the votes against Astarion! Again with double the votes he won against Dorian Pavus in the semifinals!

Very appropriate for him to win as his character is truly a romantic at heart and his actor even revealed in an interview that the romantic scenes were his favorite to film.

Wyll is a companion and romancable option for any gender in Baldur's Gate 3. You will meet him while he is in pursuit of a devil, just to find out that the honor and code he is trying to live by might be clashing with the path he could be choosing.

Wyll's romance has a kiss that has been nominated (and won) for "favorite kiss ever in a rpg game by me and for my opinion only and I just love it".

Man who will crack a joke when you least expect it

EVEN WHEN IT REALLY IS NOT THE TIME

Just to turn around and offer you the most heart shattering and unwavering support

Monster smasher (in all senses) hero, who truly needs someone at his side who makes sure he fights his own battles too, not just the trials of the coast!

Very happy to see he is currently (with all the biases and limitations of such polls, of course) the favorite romance in the rpg fandoms here on tumblr (for male characters)!!

Please, make sure to also jump in the female characters tournament!!

Also, CONGRATULATIONS TO GARRUS who came second in the tournament, and FENRIS who came third! (as he had more votes than Dorian, in the semifinals)

*In the fanvideo there are the seven clips that are not from Wyll games. I wanted to write them down as this is supposed to be a rec for his romance, so I don't want to trick people!

00:16 I modded Wyll into Karlach and used Astarion as player character (Karlach romance scene act 3)

00:38 Astarion romance scene, I played as Wyll but I flipped the character with the ring of metamorph mod so Wyll could pick up Astarion

00:50 Like the first clip, this is Karlach scene from act 3

00:51 I modded Karlach into Wyll, this is her scene from act 1

00:53 I modded Shadowheart into Astarion and I was playing as Wyll, this is Shadowheart romance scene in act 1

00:59 This is Astarion romance scene in act 2, I was playing as Wyll

01:07 The hug is from Astarion romance, epilogue, where I was playing as Wyll

[starkeymeow]

❛ we make each other alive . .

does it matter if it hurts? ❜

I’M COMING, WAIT FOR ME.

PLOT you enter the hunger games a proud weapon of your district, only to find your sharpest blade is the boy beside you, and you’re not sure which one of you the capitol wants to break first.

CONTENT chapter twenty-one, best read in dark mode, rafe cameron x reader au, everything that happens after katniss n peeta win, announcement about the quarter quell !

main masterlist | series ml | tag list | previous next

the capitol hasn’t been quiet since katniss and peeta won the games. there are celebration parades, commemorative fashion drops, parties thrown in honor of “true love,” and new candies named after their kiss. the capitol is buzzing with affection for them. but for you, everything feels off.

you haven’t seen finnick in weeks. you haven’t heard johanna’s laugh in even longer. not at a party, not on a screen, not in a passing car or a balcony three floors above yours. and it’s not like they’re avoiding you. it’s like they’ve disappeared. the only victors you’ll ever see are the ones in district two.

since the suicide pact, everything has changed. most people haven’t noticed, not the way you have. but you know.

it wasn’t an act of love. it was an act of defiance. and snow saw it, clocked it immediately. same as you.

you’d felt it before, long before this.

when you were a kid, like five, maybe six, you remembered a riot outside your apartment. there were signs, a lot of yelling, peacekeepers had to come in and shut it down. when you asked your dad what it was for, he told you to keep your eyes down and never talk about it again.

when you were eight, there were whispers about a lot of “accidents” in the training academies, like explosions, deaths, or weapon malfunctions. the adults would call them accidents at least, but in retrospect, you would wonder if some may have been sabotage or staged to cover up conflict within the ranks.

even when you were ten, a merchant girl at the edge of the market slipped you a small roll of paper with no words, just a black circle with a line drawn through it. you still don’t know what that meant. but she was gone the week after.

even back then, the undercurrent was there. district two isn’t known for open rebellion. you would wonder over time if people would throw down subtle, coded, or hushed signs of dissent.

so now, when katniss and peeta refuse to play the final card of the games, you know what you’re watching. you know what it looks like to people with nothing left to lose. it’s hope. and hope, to snow, is a dangerous thing.

but snow doesn’t lash out at them, at least not publicly. not yet.

he uses you. both you and rafe.

your interviews drop off, your sponsors grow cold. you still show up at events, still wear the gowns they send you, still wave from the balcony, but your presence feels like something half-forgotten. they don’t promote you like they used to. they don’t glamorize your victories. you wonder if this is a good thing.

but rafe notices it too. the cameras stay on him longer than before, but only to watch. not to admire or to celebrate. they’re there to monitor.

it’s like you’re being measured, like they’re waiting for a misstep. like a conversation too long with the wrong person, or a word out of place. one breath of rebellion in your lungs and they’ll close the cage door for good.

you haven’t heard from your dad in months.

your mom sent a message a few weeks ago, said someone was following her when she walked to work. said it was probably nothing, just her imagination, but she locked the door anyway. she told you not to worry. told you to stay quiet, just like dad did when you were younger. everything just feels wrong.

you don’t sleep well anymore. you check the windows too often. you don’t go out unless you have to. and when you do, you wear the persona the capitol gave you.

rafe’s been thinking about moving his family into victor’s village. he brought it up once in passing, said it might be safer. said they’d have better food, better medicine, more warmth. but he didn’t do it. he wouldn’t. not because he didn’t trust you, but because he did. and too much. said it wasn’t your job to carry his family too. said you shouldn’t have to bear any more weight than you already do.

you didn’t argue. but you would’ve said yes in a heartbeat.

and through it all, you’ve never met katniss or peeta once. you’ve watched them on television, seen them in the crowd at events you’re both required to attend, you’ve even sat rows away while they stood on the victory tour stage and spoke about cato and clove with scripted grief.

you’ve wanted to speak to them and reach out. just something, especially now that you know what they’ve gotten themselves into. you just wanted a nod, a signal that they’re not alone, that you see them. that you understand.

but you never do. rafe told you not to.

it wasn’t to be strict or control you, but he said snow doesn’t want the old victors mingling with the new ones. he doesn’t want the stories overlapping, the connections forming. said if you talk to katniss or peeta, it’ll be taken as something more. like something dangerous.

because if one victor defies the capitol, it’s a fluke. if two do, it’s a pattern. and if four start talking?

it’s a movement.

but now the quarter quell is coming. the seventy-fifth games. it’s a milestone and a warning at the same time. every person in panem knows what that means. every twenty-five years, the capitol chooses to remind the districts just how deep their control runs. not just with the games, but a twist. it’s a message. a punishment.

you’ve lived through regular reapings before. hell, you literally survived one, but this is different. this has history in it. every person in the country who’s lived long enough has witnessed or participated in a quarter quell. everyone has their story about where they were when the last one happened. your father once told you he watched the fiftieth games from the square, saw haymitch’s face flicker across the screen, bloodstained and unrecognizable. there were twice as many tributes that year. twice as much death.

you remember what they taught you in school. the twenty-fifth quell required the districts to vote on who to send into the arena. some thought it would breed solidarity. it didn’t. it bred silence.

but now, it’s your turn. your generation’s turn. the seventy-fifth is coming. and you can’t help it, you’re nervous. the capitol is being tight-lipped, which only fuels the rumors. everyone’s got a theory.

some say this year, they’ll reap out of the usual age range, like nineteen-year-olds, twelve-year-olds. others whisper about siblings being reaped together—brother and sister, side by side, one heart breaking twice over. you’ve heard one that says the capitol might reap descendants of those who participated in the first rebellion. it's far-fetched, but not impossible. the capitol collects blood samples every year for the reapings. you wouldn’t be surprised if they already had the family trees mapped out, tucked away in some database, ready to be unsealed the second president snow snaps his fingers.

the weekend arrives quiet and slow. rafe’s family pulls up to victors village just as the sun dips low, and snow’s announcement looms.

you've been nervous, but you welcome the distraction.

his dad is the last to show, as expected. he’s the kind of man whose presence is like a winter gust. it’s cold, sharp, and calculated. he doesn’t say much when he arrives. just a nod at rafe, a once-over at you, and then he disappears into the guest room like he owns the house. the visit isn’t really about him, anyway. it never is.

rafe’s stepmom spends her first hour pretending to be helpful, offering to dust shelves you already cleaned, to organize cabinets you know are spotless. sometimes you think she thinks you can’t take care of yourselves sometimes, as if she actually gives a fuck. you catch her peeking into the laundry room when she thinks no one’s looking. rafe pretends not to notice. you let her do her rounds. eventually, she gets bored or satisfied, whichever comes first, and starts talking about her neighbor’s new garden and the rising price of bread. she’ll definitely be gone by tomorrow night. ward will be too. they just do their routine check-in and call it a day.

but his sisters . . . they’re different. they always are.

sarah and wheezie come barreling in like the house belongs to them, arms full of overnight bags and snacks. sarah wraps you in a hug before she even says hello, and wheezie flops dramatically onto the living room couch like she’s home from war. rafe watches it all unfold with a smile, muttering something about regretting this already, but you can tell he’s happy. this is the version of him you like best: soft-voiced, gently bullied by his sisters, just a little bit easier to breathe around.

you and sarah talk in the kitchen while rafe sets up extra blankets and pillows. it’s always the same, sarah asking about your hair, about food, about the boy she’s been secretly seeing and isn’t quite ready to tell her dad about. she asks how you’re doing in that quiet, honest way only sarah can. and you smile, trying to dodge the real parts. you tell her not to worry, that it’s nothing she needs to carry. and sarah, like she always does, believes you, but not entirely.

when the house quiets hours later, it’s wheezie who shows up at the door to the living room, voice small and curious. she doesn’t knock. she just leans in and says your name, like it’s a secret.

“what’s it like?” she asks, standing at the door. “being a victor.”

you look at her in the low light. she's smart, sharper than most, and too observant for her age. you can tell she's been thinking about it for a while now. maybe she saw something in your eyes, something no one else caught.

you want to lie. you want to make it sound like something glorious, something she can point to and dream about. but your silence says more than words could.

wheezie frowns. “is it bad?”

you run your fingers through your hair. “it’s just . . . not what people think.”

she just nods, doesn’t really ask anything else.

rafe finds you both asleep like that in the morning, wheezie’s arm draped over your side, your face smushed up against the pillow. he doesn’t say anything. he just watches for a second longer than necessary, then goes to make coffee.

the announcement comes tomorrow.

the house is quiet now. by nightfall, sarah and wheezie are tucked away in the living room again with half-finished cups of tea and a blanket fort they never finished building. they’d both fallen asleep mid-conversation, heads tilted toward each other on the couch.

you smile softly, easing the blanket up around their shoulders before shutting off the light and tiptoeing down the hallway.

rafe’s already asleep. or he looks like it, at least.

his back is to you at first, covers tugged high on his shoulders. you close the door behind you and move to your side of the bed.

you slip beneath the covers gently, careful not to shift the mattress too much. but the second you settle, pulling the blankets up to your collarbone, rafe exhales low and turns. he rolls onto his side, one arm finding your waist like it’s muscle memory. the other slides beneath his pillow. you end up pressed against his chest, nose brushing his sleep shirt, his breath warm at the top of your hair.

you smile, so he hums, and that’s all it takes. you know he’s awake.

you whisper, “i thought you were asleep.”

“was trying,” he mumbles, voice still rough from whatever half-dream state you just pulled him from. “but my nerves suck.”

you nod slowly, letting out a breath through your nose, the same way he does when he’s trying not to think too hard. “yeah. i get it.”

you don’t say more. you just lie there, but when you finally tilt your head back to look at him, he’s already watching you.

he’s beautiful. even in this light, maybe especially in this light. his lashes are unfairly long, the lines of his face softened by sleep but still so sharp it hurts to look at sometimes. his hair’s buzzed now. he said it was for “low maintenance,” said it like a joke, like he was some high-end model who couldn’t be bothered with styling products. but you remember him saying once, just once, something quiet about how hair holds memories. and then he shaved it all off two days later.

it suits him. really suits him.

your hand comes up to touch the side of his face. he leans into it automatically, eyes slipping shut. your thumb strokes over his cheekbone, and then you reach higher, fingers dragging across his buzzcut. it’s soft and bristly. your palm settles against the top of his head, and you sigh.

“are you nervous about tomorrow?” you ask, still looking at his hair.

he opens his eyes and stares at you, like he’s waiting for the punchline. “uh, yeah. obviously.”

you huff out a breath and roll away from him, burying your face in your pillow with a quiet groan. he watches you, something soft pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“hey,” he says. “don’t. c’mon, we don’t even know what it is yet.” you don’t move, but he keeps talking. “it’s probably gonna suck, yeah. but we’ll get through it. we’ll mentor the strongest ones, right? that’s how this works. we save one kid. maybe two if we’re lucky.”

you know he’s joking but a part of you wants to correct him. president snow will never let that happen again.

you shift slowly, turning back over to face him. he’s already there, one hand resting lightly on your hip, fingers draped over the curve of it.

“we’ve done it before,” he says. “just don’t think about it tonight. not until they say it out loud.”

you know what he’s doing. it’s distraction. he’s not wrong.

you narrow your eyes at him a little, then roll them, leaning in until your lips find his. the kiss is slow at first, just a press of mouths. his fingers curl against your skin, and then his hand comes up to cradle your face as he deepens it, tongue slipping past your lips, pulling you closer.

but you smirk and grab his jaw, grip firm, and pull him back before he can really get carried away. he blinks at you, eyes heavy-lidded and dazed, lips parted like he was in the middle of a sentence.

you raise an eyebrow.

“did you brush your teeth?”

there’s a pause, like his brain short-circuits. his eyes narrow just slightly like he’s trying to figure out if you’re joking. the realization washes over him slowly, that weird cocktail of she’s kind of serious, but also . . . not really. because of course you’d ask something like that. because you do care—but also? you don’t. not enough to pull away for good.

his grin starts lazy, crooked. he leans back in, nose brushing yours. “you’re so stupid,” he murmurs.

you smile too, lips already parting to meet his again, and this time, when he kisses you, it’s deeper, slower. his hand slides down, finding the hem of your shirt where it rests at your hip, fingers curling there like he’s memorizing the shape of you. then he moves, hand slipping beneath the fabric, palm warm against your skin as he drags it up, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

the morning comes later.

you make your way into the living room with the tea kettle still steaming in your hands. you step barefoot onto the rug, your eyes flicking up to take in the rest of the room.

sarah’s already curled into one corner of the couch, legs tucked up beneath her, palms wrapped tight around a mug. she looks nervous, biting at the inside of her cheek every few seconds. wheezie’s leaned forward at the edge of the opposite couch cushion, elbows on her thighs, eyes locked onto the television with a kind of intensity that practically borders on obsession.

rafe, meanwhile, is pacing behind the couch. you can tell by the way his jaw is clenched that he’s been upset for a while. his fingers twitch at his sides like he doesn’t know what to do with them as he mutters something under his breath.

“they should be here,” he snaps, a little louder now, stopping in his tracks. “this is the kind of thing wh— where families are supposed to show up. ours should be here.”

sarah looks up slowly. “rafe . . .”

he doesn’t look at her, but he hears it in her voice.

“you know dad can’t be here. he’s not allowed to leave base anymore for—”

“i know that,” rafe says, “i know. but rose? she could be here. but she’s not. again.”

sarah’s lips press together, the argument already finished in her mind before it begins. there’s nothing left to say that she hasn’t said before.

you quietly refill both your mug and sarah’s.

you don’t speak either, not yet, but when you lean forward to place the kettle down, your shirt pulls slightly. you don’t notice, but rafe does, his eyes catching on the thorns etched into your spine like they’re blooming right out of your skin. it pulls something in him, stops him mid-step. he exhales through his nose and slowly rounds the couch, not saying anything as he drops down into the cushions between his sisters.

he’s just there to be close. wants to be there.

“some guys at school were saying they think this year they’re gonna make it, like, career tributes only,” wheezie says suddenly, almost like she’s been waiting to say it, like she needed to fill the silence. she’s still flicking through channels on the remote way too fast for anyone to follow.

sarah gives her a sharp look. “that’s stupid.”

“is it, though?” wheezie counters, not even glancing her way. “they haven’t done that before. would probably make a good show for the capitol.”

“they’re not gonna do that.”

“you never know,” wheezie says, clicking to yet another static-heavy channel. “they do something worse every time.”

“they’re going to show it on every channel, wheeze. stop it.”

wheezie gives her one of those deadly little sister looks and tosses the remote at sarah’s lap like fine then, you do it. sarah rolls her eyes but doesn’t say anything else.

you settle down onto the floor in front of the couch, nestling in between rafe’s legs without needing to ask. his hands find your shoulders like it’s instinct, thumbs pressing slowly into the muscles there. you lean back against him more fully as you watch the screen.

it’s like right on cue: the screen flickers. all the channels go dark for half a second before one clean hologram feed takes over.

the crowd is massive, packed into the grand capitol square where they usually hold the tribute parade. you can barely make out the edge of the platform, the massive podium in the center. the camera zooms in until all that’s visible is the upper half of president snow.

his voice comes in smoothly, already mid-introduction, like this has been planned and rehearsed more times than you could count.

“—thank you for coming out to join us here today,” snow says, smiling just enough for it to be unsettling, “we are reminded of the sacrifices that have shaped panem. of the victories. of the blood that feeds our soil. and of the peace we now enjoy.”

you feel rafe’s thumb pause on your shoulder blade. wheezie’s entire body is still. sarah leans forward, her tea untouched, and you just stare at the screen.

“ladies and gentlemen,” snow finally begins, “this is the seventy-fifth year of the hunger games.”

you don’t blink or breathe. your knees bend slightly as you rest your forearms against the tops of your thighs.

“it was written in the charter of the games,” snow continues, face beaming like he’s reading holy scripture, “that every twenty-five years, there would be a quarter quell to keep fresh for each new generation the memory of those who died in the uprising against the capitol. each quarter quell is distinguished by games of a special significance.”

sarah’s breath hitches next to rafe. wheezie’s lips move without sound, mouthing the words like she’s trying to read them ahead of him. meanwhile your heart skips, because something about the way snow says special significance doesn’t feel procedural.

“and now, on this, the seventy-fifth anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the third quarter quell as a reminder . . .”

his pause is calculated. his breath easy.

“. . . that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the capitol.”

your stomach folds in on itself. your brows furrow as you tilt your head slightly, mouth parting like you’re about to whisper something to rafe, like you’re about to ask what does that mean? but the words never come, because then he says it.

“on this, the third quarter quell games, the male and female tributes are to be reaped . . from the existing pool of victors!”

the sentence hits like a body blow.

your vision goes quiet. there’s no ringing in your ears, no sound at all. your face doesn’t change at first. you’re not even sure it can. it’s blank, stuck in this space between disbelief and knowing exactly what was just said.

your fingers twitch as you feel rafe’s hands slip off your shoulders.

you’re trying to sit up straight but your body won’t move the way it’s supposed to. your palm reaches out for the coffee table like it’ll help you remember how to breathe again, like if you just touch something real that you’ll wake up from this. but nothing wakes you up.

sarah’s sobbing openly, no hesitation. her hand flies to her mouth and she leans into the couch cushion as if she might pass out from the force of it. wheezie just stares at the screen, stunned.

you’re on your feet, though you don’t remember standing. the room tilts.

“y/n—” rafe chokes out, voice low and shaky. it’s not really a plea. it’s a reflex, like he can’t help himself. like saying your name out loud might stop you from walking away. but his throat closes around it.

you don’t look back. you can’t. the nausea builds so fast it’s like your stomach turns inside out. your hand covers your mouth but it’s too late, your legs move before your brain can even catch up, bolting through the kitchen doorway. your feet skid against the floor and you barely make it to the sink in time.

you throw up hard. your arms brace against the metal of the basin, body jerking forward with each heave. your mouth tastes bitter. your knees threaten to give.

you spit, cough, then hang there, trembling and breathless. everything smells like mint tea and bile. everything hurts.

you can’t go back.

your mind says it like a chant.

you can’t go back. you can’t.

you survived, you did your time, and you paid. you promised your mother you’d never—

a sob catches in your throat and tears rip down your face before you can even register the burn. your hands grip the edge of the sink tighter, knuckles bone-white, until that too gives out. your palms slide and you fall down to the floor, your hip knocking the cabinet, back curling up as you pull your knees to your chest.

you cry painfully, the kind that shakes your ribs. from the other room you hear rafe shouting your name again.

“rafe,” sarah’s voice tries to hold him back, “just stop—!”

and then something shatters in the living room. glass, probably. maybe ceramic.

you flinch at the sound and tuck your face deeper into your knees. you don’t care what broke. because the only thing that really matters—your life, which has already been taken from you—is already in pieces.

between you and enobaria, one of you has to go back into those games.

@nicholaschavezslut69 @iissza @snowtargaryen @yootvi @sukunasmuse @spideysimpossiblegirl @skyslowalking @adribarbie @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @0-tatiana-0 @beebeerockknot @rafestar @drewstarkeyzwhore @drewsephrry @annaconscience @writtenbyhollywood @yourtypicalteenagegirl @daisydark @v4mpscrms @issahruiz @ilovefictionallmenn @derpjungkook @vanessa-rafesgirl @sunny1616 @alphabetically-deranged @nrmlgirl @supercxnt @xoxosblogsblog @rafegetinmybed @siyahmoonlight @livie4lifestarkeyblyth @d-daxx @tsumudoll @ogcrashout @jjasmiineee @loverliner @ailimedae @belle101200 @hiimbrina @nomup @ayy1234567 @girxwrp @k4yr14 @amterasuu @theteenagementality @maggscr @hey-you22w @delilah22pbp @hayleynott @silkenthusiasts ++

[zae-heeyyy]

Recalcitrance

Summary: You and Ms. Grimshaw just can't get along. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Female!Reader Word Count: 1,763 Tags: fluff, kissing, high honor Arthur Warnings: camp violence, angry Arthur, suggestive themes

a/n: I have mixed feelings about Grimshaw. I think she's a very enigmatic character. Still, based on interactions I've seen with her, I feel this isn't too far off. These always end up super long for some reason. Idk how that keeps happening. Anyway, I hope you enjoy; thanks for reading!

recalcitrance: resistance to authority or guidance, often characterized by defiance or disobedience. It implies a refusal to comply with rules or expectations, despite attempts to persuade or control.

You and Abigail Roberts went way, way back. Working girls stuck to a code; part of that code was looking out for each other and ensuring you returned after one of your "shifts." Abigail ran away for a while, leaving you to assume she'd met a rich man and settled down.

When you met her again, she introduced you to Dutch Van Der Linde and company; you fell in with them shortly after. Since then, you constantly scrubbed blood from clothes, slept on the ground, and ate whatever game Pearson could find for the stew. Many girls you knew would never trade that life for this one, but you had a family to return to, even if they weren't the most conventional. And amidst it all, you'd found something you didn't think possible for you. 

You were drawn to Arthur Morgan instantly. The little things spoke volumes for you—how he checked on you in passing, the moments spent playing dominos together, and his overall politeness towards you. The bar was in hell, but he treated you so differently than any man ever had. Arthur's dumb cowboy act didn't fool you for a second, and you were captivated by him.

After one too many inadvertent shoulder grazes and incidental hand touches, the chemistry between you had become undeniable. Following a game of dominos he let you win, the stocky man asked you to take a walk with him. You weren't too far away from camp before you found yourself pressed against a tree by him in a heated kiss. So many thoughts swirled around your head. You were in the middle of nowhere; it was pitch black, and you were being hunted by the law, yet there against that tree was the safest you'd felt in a long time. 

Then, on another fateful night, you were alone with him at the campfire while everybody else had settled down. A sly smirk crossed his face, and he scooted closer to you, grabbing and kissing your hand. You giggled, maintaining eye contact as he kissed up your arm, gradually, a low groan escaping him. One thing led to another, and he guided you into his tent. You let him have you, and you, him. 

It was then, when you were on the brink of your climax, half-lidded eyes staring upward into his, that you finally understood what people meant by lovemaking. When it was all over, you got up to leave out of habit, but he drew you back into his arms and asked you to stay.

Since then, you've been his girl, and he made sure everybody knew, always kissing you before he left for a job, settling you into his lap at the poker table, or sneaking you away from your chores to spend time with him. You saw each other for what you were, not the labels that had been applied to you. And you loved him so much.

For the first time in a long time, your life was good. Well, mostly, except you hadn't quite mastered the life of navigating Ms. Grimshaw. Over the almost year you'd known her, she was rarely nice to you. She seemed more tame when Arthur was around, but he wasn't today.

By noon, you had gotten sick of hearing her voice, and she seemed more ornery than usual. The nagging was constant: do this, don't do that, do this faster, do this slower. You wished she'd shut the hell up and leave you alone. Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, you saw her speed-walking towards you.

You were sitting, about to light a cigarette, when she approached, red-faced, huffing, and talking fast, "There you are," she started, putting a finger in your face. "Sitting around like always. I have had it with you!" You stood quickly out of instinct and opened your mouth to speak, but she cut you off. "You're useless around here, so why don't you go into town and start selling yourself again. At least then you'd finally be carrying your weight!" 

Her words stung like branding, making your heart race and your eyes sting. The few people left at camp had gone quiet. Mary-Beth looked on nervously while Karen was glaring at the older woman. Your heart pounded in your ears, and you spoke faster than your brain could process.

"All you're good for is being an ugly, hateful bitch." As soon as the words left your mouth, she swung on you. It was a backhanded slap that stung and broke the barrier that was holding back your tears. You recoiled, holding your stinging face.

"Know your place, girl, before you end up somewhere worse than on your back. Now get!" She pointed towards the edge of camp.

"Screw you," you said, quickly wiping away a falling tear, "I'd rather fuck every man in town before I keep letting myself be treated like this." You stepped up to her, " Want me to leave? Well, I'm goin."

And you did. You collected what little belongings you had into a bag and charged out of camp, eyes forward and your head held high. Tilly and Mary-Beth tried to stop you, but you marched down the dirt path until they couldn't see you anymore.

"Look what you gone and did you old hag," Karen spat, "Oh, just wait til Mr. Morgan gets back. Bet you won't be so high and mighty then." 

Arthur didn't ride in until sunset; he searched for you before even getting off his horse. His face fell confused by your absence, and just as he was about to inquire, Mary-Beth and Tilly approached. He knew instantly that something was wrong.

"What, what is it?" His eyes searched theirs. They looked at each other, silently debating who'd break the news to him. It was Tilly who stepped forward, putting a calming hand on Arthur's arm. She talked low and cautious, "Arthur, she—her and Ms. Grimshaw—they—" She was cut off by Karen and Ms. Grimshaw beelining towards them.

Karen's voice boomed, speech slurred. "Go ahead, tell 'em." She waved her beer-clutching hand between Arthur and Ms. Grimshaw, defiantly meeting Susan's gaze before tearing her eyes away to meet Arthur's. "That wench Grimshaw smacked her across the face and ran her out!"

Clenching his fist involuntarily, he leaned into Karen, talking low and steady. "The hell are you talking 'bout?" His chest was rising and falling quickly now.

Ms. Grimshaw stood resolute and waved him off. "This doesn't concern you, Mr. Morgan. This is my camp, and these are my girls and my rules," she finished, arms crossed, staring at Arthur.

Stepping close, he imposed his broad figure on Ms. Grimshaw, flashing a smile that was anything but inviting. He took on a tone he rarely used with the women.

"Oh, Susan, that's where me and you disagree. This may very well be your camp, and you can make up all the rules you want, but she's my girl." His face had straightened into a scowl by the time he finished.

"Well, I'll—" she began incredulously, hands still on her hips, but Arthur threw up a halting finger.

"Look, Ms. Grimshaw, I respect how you run this camp, but that girl, she's off limits. Now, I'm gonna find her and bring her back, and you can raise all the hell you want, but if you lay a finger on her again—" 

"Arthur..." Tilly cut in warningly. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned away, ending his conversation with Susan. "Where'd she go?" he asked no one and everyone at the same time, speed walking to his horse.

"She took off down the road," Mary-Beth called out, but his horse was already kicking up dirt. Riding as fast as he could, he reached the nearest town at record speed. He hitched the horse outside the train station, forcing the doors open with his shoulder. The place went quiet, everybody focusing on the sudden disturbance. Arthur ignored the looks he was getting, scanning faces for yours. Spotting you took no time, and you stood as soon as you recognized him. He rushed to you, taking your hands in his; concern riddled his face— a rare sight. Guilt washed over you as you looked up into his eyes; you opened your mouth to speak, but he started before you.

"You alright?" he asked, looking you up and down. Dirt had stained the hem of your skirt, and your eyes were tired; his frown grew as he looked you over. You wrapped your arms around him, pressing your head to his chest and nodding.

"Wasn't gonna go, just needed to get away for a while," you murmured into his chest. Rubbing your back soothingly, he exhaled with soft, relieved laughter. One arm still around you, he gently tilted your head to meet his gaze with his free one.

"Don't you go walking out on us. Least without tellin' me first."

You agreed with a quick bob of your head, and he pulled your chin in towards his, kissing you on the mouth. He withdrew and gestured to the bench you'd risen from earlier; you both sat. Arthur wrapped a big arm around you, and you buried your face into his shoulder.

"That woman hates me," you grumbled with a pout. Arthur squeezed you closer, and a faint grin formed on his lips.

"Nah, she never liked any girl I brought around. Give her more time." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "It's all outta love, I think," he concluded. You huffed at that, disbelieving.

"She got a funny way of showing it."

"Sure," he chuckled again. He sat for another minute before gently nudging you off his shoulder. Grabbing your bag and standing, he asked, "So you gonna come back with me?"

You tried to sulk but couldn't when he was standing there waiting patiently with his hand out. You finally relented. 

"Fine, but I ain't just gonna take it next time," you declared, taking his hand. A big smile stretched across his face. 

"You ain't gotta do nothing you don't wanna. If any of those fools have a problem with it, send 'em to me." You made your way out of the train station, hand in hand. You paused, gazing at him with a quirked eyebrow.

"I can handle myself just fine, Arthur Morgan." Another chuckle built up in him as he threw your bag on the horse. He turned to kiss the top of your head before grabbing you by the waist and lifting you up on the horse.

"I know, darlin'."

[samusamab]

Objective Best Rooks for Each Companion Romance

Just finished my first full playthrough of Veilguard, so I now feel qualified to talk about the best/funniest rook race/class/faction combos for each companion romance. As always, feel free to argue if you want, but remember at the end of the day my opinions are always right (Government Mandated: this is a joke)

(PS: Race opinions may not be included, sue me. Also, light spoilers below, obviously. I'm pretty sure I got all the spoiler tags, but here's your fair warning just in case.)

Bellara: Grey Warden rogue. The bodice ripper girlie deserves a roguishly charming parter who is also a little dark and tortured, as a treat. Dating a Grey Warden feels like as close as Dragon Age gets to dating a superhero (but like, a broody one) and I think Bellara would love that dynamic. I have no strong opinions on race, but we'll say Qunari.

Taash: Elf Mournwatcher Mage. I may be biased, but I just finished a Mournwatcher Taash run, and seeing the way they talk about necromancy with Rook compared to Emmrich is so funny. Besides I think they'd enjoy a little goth elf to throw around.

Harding: The same combination as your inquisitor. Nothing better to me than establishing Harding having a strong type. Also very funny to imagine the inquisitor meeting Rook, the new partner Harding keeps telling them about, and they're a little too similar. Make Lace a little weirder and more fucked up (affectionate), she deserves it.

Davrin: Lord of Fortune Rogue. I see your "Davrin doesn't like the Crows because they're killers for hire" and raise you, faction of pirates and thieves that are literally just in it to beat people up and get as much loot as possible. It would be like if Isabella and Blackwall were a couple. I rest my case.

Emmrich: Mourn Watcher Mage. Listen, I know I already did this one, but let me be a little lazy. Admittedly, I am not an old man yaoi enjoyer (though I believe in their beliefs). So this one is mostly based around the idea of you Rook leaving to save the world, and ending up romancing the man who would've been their necromancy doctorate advisor.

Neve: Veil Jumper Warrior. Hear me out here, I'm obsessed with that one Neve voice line that reveals she knows nothing about the outside. Give her a wild child ranger-coded partner who lives in the cursed magic woods and would speedrun winning a season of Survivor. Make her have to go on hiking dates, it's enrichment.

Lucanis: Shadow Dragon Mage. Look, I know this is just Neve in a different font. But I'm obsessed with that Taash line about Lucanis and Neve dating where she implies their relationship has a predator-prey dynamic because he's a mage killer. Not that Lucanis is that kinky, but a Rook can imagine. Even if it ends up the other way, I'm all game for a short king magehunter getting tied up by his mage-dom.

Honorable Mention: I think it would be hilarious to romance Taash as an AFAB-Nonbinary Qunari Lord of Fortune. Just helping your hot coworker speedrun all of your own past life experiences. Please let me know if you've done this, and if it was worth it.

[splinterclan]

what is the clan's relationship with the warrior code. Because they don't really seem too strict about it.

I just went and copy pasted the Warrior code from the WC Website and I'll put what percent they follow that rule after each one (never actually read the warrior code so this is fun jsjs)

1. Defend your Clan, even with your life. You may have friendships with cats from the other Clans, but your loyalty must remain to your Clan, as one day you may meet them in battle. - 100%

2. Do not hunt or trespass on another Clan’s territory. - 100%

3. Elders and kits must be fed before apprentices and warriors. Unless they have permission, apprentices may not eat until they have hunted to feed the elders. - 100%

4. Prey is killed only to be eaten. Give thanks to StarClan for its life. - 100%

5. A kit must be at least six moons old to become an apprentice. - 100%

6. Newly appointed warriors will keep a silent vigil for one night after receiving their warrior name. - 100%

7. A cat cannot be made deputy without having mentored at least one apprentice. - 90% Was lax for Moor since the clan started without any apprentice age kids, but will be 100% for every deputy after her

8. The deputy will become Clan leader when the leader dies or retires. - 100%

9. After the death or retirement of the deputy, the new deputy must be chosen before moonhigh. - 100%

10. A gathering of all four Clans is held at the full moon during a truce that lasts for the night. There shall be no fighting among Clans at this time. - 0% There's 5 clans total around, but their territories are so massively far apart it's really not feasible for them to visit each other at all (like, miles apart - Oakclan is a 2-3 day journey from Splinter's camp). Every clan interaction in the game I interpret as happening with wandering rogue groups instead

11. Boundaries must be checked and marked daily. Challenge all trespassing cats. - 100%

12. No warrior may neglect a kit in pain or in danger, even if that kit is from a different Clan. - 100%

13. The word of the Clan leader is the warrior code. - 80% ish? the clan is just way too small for there to be the separation that is required for dictatorship effect. It's more like a family where your dad "sets rules" but you know he won't beat your ass if you disobey them, but you mostly obey them anyways bc you love him (Whorlstar is their dad)

14. An honorable warrior does not need to kill other cats to win his battles, unless they are outside the warrior code or it is necessary for self-defense. - 100%

15. A warrior rejects the soft life of a kittypet. - 100% They won't go near or take food from humans - even when Cedar lived near one for a bit, he never took food from them.

So apparently they follow it pretty well? There seems to be a lot of unspoken rules in WC (like don't have kits with outsiders etc. Med cats can't have kits) That aren't on this list, so I guess they're not official? Idk xD I've said this before, but I have only read the first series of books so I don't have the fullest knowledge, but I do feel like with WC-based stories stuff like having the Med Cat get in trouble for having kits or half-clan relationships being persecuted are dumb rules anyways so I'd just rather write about something else

Plus clangen itself has no internal code for punishing that kind of stuff so it's all free game there too luckily ^^

[rottenpumpkin13]

If there was a BBQ gathering and A/S/G, Zack and Cloud were told to bring their own meats and drinks to share with everyone. What would they each bring?

Kinda like a thanksgiving potluck in a way.

Sephiroth: Brings so much meat that it looks like he personally went on a pilgrimage across the Planet to collect only the finest cuts. Shows up with a downright sacrificial offering—Wutai-imported wagyu, expertly marbled ribeyes, lamb chops so tender they practically melt on the grill. No one questions where he got all of it. No one asks how much he spent. They all just accept that, for some reason, Sephiroth views "bring something to share" as a summons to single-handedly fund the entire event. When asked why, he shrugs and says "I do not have many expenses." Which is code for: I have been depositing my paycheck for years with no idea how to use money, also I became unhealthily fixated on meat when I was given my first bit of dietary freedom at age 17 so now I have too much knowledge than is normal.

Zack: Shows up with a massive, fully-plucked bird he insists is a "giant chicken" that he got from Kunsel, who got it from a guy in Wall Market, who got it from winning a Corneo Colosseum death match. Everything seems fine until someone points out that giant chickens do not exist. And then Cloud walks into the room, sees the bird, and lets out a screech of someone who just learned a dear loved one has passed. Then Zack has to be physically restrained and sedated before he tries to go fight Kunsel for giving him a chocobo.

Genesis: Brings nothing but alcohol and mixers, because he's not an animal. His contribution includes top-shelf bourbon, Midgarian whiskey, a few fruity cocktails so no one can accuse him of not considering the group, and an ominous black bottle labeled simply ???. He does not man the grill. He does not set the table. He drinks. He lounges. He watches the chaos unfold with a glass of something dark in his hand and a deep sense of personal satisfaction.

Cloud: Brings an entire, unidentifiable carved animal. Everyone stares. "Don't worry about it!" he says cheerfully, "We used to eat it all the time in Nibelheim!" Angeal grills it, but only because it would be a sin to waste perfectly good…whatever it is. Nobody eats it. Nobody touches it. They all just sort of… keep it at the furthest edge of the table, as though it might gain sentience and attack. Then Sephiroth, in a moment of curiosity or possible self-destructive tendencies, takes a bite. His eyes widen. "This is incredible." Cloud nods, pleased with himself. "Yeah. We like to honor the dragon its entirety in Nibelheim." Sephiroth involuntarily spits out a mouthful of grilled dragon just as Genesis is walking by and gets blinded by a dragon scale flying into his eye.

Angeal: The only one with foresight. Brings the sides: grilled vegetables, baked potatoes, fresh bread, a variety of sauces because he knew. He foresaw this. He is the guardian of this disaster. Mans the grill with a beer in hand while watching a baseball game in the background. He does not comment on Zack's chocobo. He does not comment on Cloud's dragon. He does not comment on the mysterious men in black who delivered an entire suckling pig on Sephiroth's request. He does not comment on Genesis chugging an entire bottle of moonshine. He just flips the steaks, takes a slow sip of beer, and wonders, not for the first time, why he keeps letting himself be dragged into these things.

[omegalomania]

so im sure everyones fully well aware of the magic 8 ball site fob is using to promote a contest to win some tickets to see them in nashville. the little 8ball widget theyve got in browser is also modeled on the physical 8ball that they had in the vip merch packages for tourdust's first leg, which is cool! but of particular note is the way that, to fill out the contest form, you have to pick your favorite fall out boy songs. and the sheer breadth of what is allowed is...interesting? it's not cohesive by any means, but it is really wild the selection of songs they have here because not all of them are fob songs. in fact, quite a few of them aren't.

i went directly to the source code and got a full list of all possible songs that you could input (which you can check for yourself by right-clicking and selecting "view source"). i'm going to list them here for archival purposes, with a few notes/explanations cause some of these are WILD.

there are 187 songs total listed.

bolded songs indicate songs that are demos or never received an official release

italicized songs are songs by other bands

underlined songs indicate songs that are covers

songs with an asterisk beside them (*) indicate they are from patrick's solo catalogue. two asterisks (**) are for pete's.

additional commentary by me will be [in brackets]

20 Dollar Nose Bleed 27 7 Minutes in Heaven (Atavan Halen) 7-9 Legendary A Little Less Sixteen Candles, a Little More "Touch Me" A Nice Myth [one of the earliest fall out boy demos, found on their first ep, and only the casette version at that] Allie* Alone Together Alpha Dog America's Suitehearts American Beauty/American Psycho (song) American Made Art of Keeping Up Disappearances As Long as I Know I'm Getting Paid* Austin, We Have a Problem Baby Annihilation Bad Side of 25* Bang the Doldrums Beat It Big Hype* Bishops Knife Trick Bob Dylan Bounce [this is a song that came out on then-Decaydance labelmates The Cab's debut record, Whisper War, which patrick produced. he has writing credit and also is credited with background vocals (and also shows up in the music video)] Caffeine Cold Calm Before the Storm Centuries Champagne for My Real Friends, Real Pain for My Sham Friends Champion Check Your Phone** Chicago is So Two Years Ago Church City in a Garden Coast (It's Gonna Get Better)* Coffee's for Closers Cryptozoology* Cute Girls* Cyanide** [this is a nothing,nowhere song that pete did some spoken word parts and backing vocals on] Dance Miserable* Dance, Dance Dead on Arrival Dear Future Self (Hands Up) Death Valley Deep Blue Love* [song patrick did for the indie short film "spell"] Demigods Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes Don't You Know Who I Think I Am? Electric Touch [the (in?)famous taylor swift song patrick featured on] Eternal Summer Everybody Wants Somebody* Explode* Fake Out Fame Less than Infamy Favorite Record Fellowship of the Nerd [this is an alternate title for world's not waiting, as far as i can tell] Flu Game Flu Game [yes flu game is listed twice for some reason] Footprints in the Snow [demo from the Llamania ep] Fourth of July From Now on We Are Enemies G.I.N.A.S.F.S. Get Busy Living or Get Busy Dying (Do Your Part to Save the Scene and Stop Going to Shows) Ghostbusters (I'm Not Afraid) Golden Grand Theft Autumn/Where Is Your Boy Greed* Grenade Jumper Grow Up and Be Kids [this song is on The Cab's sophomore album Symphony Soldier, which release after they left decaydance. nonetheless, pete does have some writing credits on it. give it a listen and you'll hear for yourself in the first 10 seconds or so] Growing Up Hand Crushed by a Mallet [this is a remix of the 100gecs song of the same name; patrick did some vocals for it] Hand of God Have I Got a Gift for You* [song patrick did for the horror movie black friday] Headfirst Slide into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet Heartbreak Feels So Good Heaven's Gate Heaven, Iowa Hold Me Like a Grudge Hold Me Tight or Don't Homesick at Space Camp Honorable Mention Hot to the Touch, Cold on the Inside Hum Hallelujah I Am My Own Muse I Don't Care

I Got Nothing, But You Got Something [this is the one that really perplexes me. there's no evidence of this song actually existing, other than an unverified genius post and an article on a single fandom wiki. it is inexplicably listed here despite its very existence being questionable at best.]

I Slept with Someone in Fall Out Boy and All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me I Wanna Dance with Somebody (Who Loves Me) I'm Like a Lawyer with the Way I'm Always Trying to Get You Off (Me & You) I've Been Waiting [this is technically a lil peep song with fall out boy as a feature] I've Got a Dark Alley and a Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth (Summer Song) I've Got All This Ringing in My Ears and None on My Fingers Immortals Irresistible It's Hard to Say 'I Do', When I Don't It's Not a Side Effect of the Cocaine, I Am Thinking It Must Be Love Jet Pack Blues Just One Yesterday Lake Effect Kid (song) Lake Shore Drive [this is a song patrick covered on the piano at wrigley, first night of tourdust] Love from the Other Side Love Will Tear Us Apart Love, Selfish Love* Love, Sex, Death Lullabye Mad at Nothing* Miss Missing You Moving Pictures My Heart Is the Worst Kind of Weapon My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark (Light Em Up) New Dreams [this is a bonus track on pax am days, a naked rayguns cover] Nobody Puts Baby in the Corner Novocaine Of All the Gin Joints in All the World One of Those Nights [another song from the cab's whisper war. this one has patrick doing vocals very prominently] Open Happiness [this was a huge collaborative piece done for a coca cola commercial. patrick was on it along with big names like cee lo green, janelle monae, and labelmates travie mccoy and brendon urie] Our Lawyer Made Us Change the Name of This Song So We Wouldn't Get Sued Parker Lewis Can't Lose (But I'm Gonna Give It My Best Shot) Past Life [llamania ep] Pavlove People Never Done a Good Thing* Porcelain* Pretty in Punk Rat a Tat Reinventing the Wheel to Run Myself Over Roxanne Run Dry (X Heart X Fingers)* San Diego [this is a blink-182 song that patrick did some writing for] Saturday Saturday Night Again* Save Rock and Roll (song) Sending Postcards from a Plane Crash (Wish You Were Here) She's My Winona Short, Fast, and Loud Snitches and Talkers Get Stitches and Walkers So Good Right Now So Much (For) Stardust (song) So Sick [this is a song patrick has exclusively covered live, so it's a fascinating inclusion] Sober [another blink-182 song patrick did some writing for] Sophomore Slump or Comeback of the Year Star 67 Stay Frosty Royal Milk Tea Sugar, We're Goin Down Summer Days (song) [this is a martin garrix song patrick lent some vocals to] Sunshine Riptide Super Fade Switchblades and Infidelity Tell That Mick He Just Made My List of Things to Do Today The "I" In Lie* The (After) Life of the Party The (Shipped) Gold Standard The Carpal Tunnel of Love The Kids Aren't Alright The Kintsugi Kid (Ten Years) The Last of the Real Ones The Mighty Fall The Music or the Misery The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes The Phoenix The Pink Seashell The Pros and Cons of Breathing The Take Over, the Breaks Over The World's Not Waiting (For Five Tired Boys in a Broken Down Van) This Ain't a Scene, It's an Arms Race This City* Thnks fr th Mmrs (song) [for some reason the site specifies song here, despite that not being necessary. the only other times this distinction is relevant is when songs share a title with their albums, i.e. save rock and roll] Thriller Tiffany Blews Twin Skeleton's (Hotel in NYC) Uma Thurman Untitled 1 (Colorado Song) Untitled 2 (Jakus Song) [both of these are recently released tttyg era demos] W.A.M.S. We Didn't Start the Fire We Don’t Take Hits, We Write Them [this is a song that famously was only ever performed live. we don't have a studio recording or even a demo, as only live versions exist] We Were Doomed from the Start (The King is Dead) West Coast Smoker What a Catch, Donnie What a Time To Be Alive What's This? When I Made You Cry* Where Did the Party Go Wilson (Expensive Mistakes) Wrong Side of Paradise [llamania ep] XO You're Crashing, But You're No Wave Young and Menace Young Volcanoes Yule Shoot Your Eye Out

in conclusion i have no idea who compiled this list. it doesn't include every song patrick and pete have ever touched (notice the lack of gym class heroes, cobra starship, and hush sound discography) but it has a really weird selection of songs. i mean, blink songs patrick wrote on?? its bizarre.

anyway do you think if we mass request swing me by the rafters they'll have to do it

[claudiasharon]

Lovestruck Sims 4 Giveaway!

❤️Who wants a giveaway? Feeling the L-O-V-E? ❤️

💜For those of us that HAVE to buy the game because of evol OCD (gotta catch them all or WE WILL DIE) or whatever our reasons are, I am doing a giveaway in honor of the money sitting in my Patreon right now.

💜So who wants to get the Lovestruck pack? This is open to EVERYONE WORLDWIDE. YES. I will send you either a gift code to redeem via the EA app if you're in the USA!

❤️OR❤️

💜I will send you the amount you need to purchase the pack with money in your currency via Paypal, Venmo, or CashApp depending on what your country allows.

💜If you cannot use any of those payment processors, we will figure something out.

💜All you need to do now is like AND reblog this post!

❤️That is it.❤️

💜Then I will use a random number generator online to see who wins!

💜Make sure your DMs are open on your Tumblr so I can contact you, or I will have to reroll and move on to the next person!

-When the poll below this text ends, the giveaway will end too!-

Good luck!

[wildlife4life]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by the super amazing @cal-daisies-and-briars @daffi-990 @bekkachaos @tizniz @diazsdimples @wikiangela and @theotherbuckley

SURPRISE!!!! In honor of the Kansas City Chiefs winning back to back super bowls, I have posted the first chapter of Three Taps for the Lombardi aka NFL Buck! Woooooo! The biggest and loudest shout out to @hippolotamus who so graciously beta read this, was one of my biggest supporters, and kept my secret! You are so amazing! This fic is my pride and joy and I am so excited to share it! Hope you all enjoy!

Three Taps for the Lombardi

Mature // 3.8K // Chapter 1

Eddie Diaz is the 118's new transfer from Houston and he is a bit of mystery. The team knows a few things about the stoic man. He's was a medic in the army with a silver star, he has a son, a dead ex-wife, is gay, and has long term boyfriend named Buck who he moved to L.A. with. Oh, and Eddie is never on shift when there is a home game for the L.A. Rams. Evan Buckley has been traded to the L.A. Rams from the Houston Texans. He has amazing stats, awards, and been named one of America's most eligible bachelors. All he's missing is a super bowl win and a WAG to cheer for him alongside his sister in the stands. Or at least, that's what he's led the world to believe. Almost ten years ago Paramedic Diaz ran onto the Texas Longhorn's field to help college football star Evan Buckley after he was knocked unconscious. Months later, secrets are made so dreams can come true. Can they keep those secrets intact as Eddie takes on the challenges of being a firefighter in L.A. while Buck battles for the Lombardi with a new team?

Tagging for WIP Wednesday (no pressure): @watchyourbuck @lover-of-mine @spotsandsocks @devirnis @buddierights @try-set-me-on-fire @jesuisici33 @jeeyuns @exhuastedpigeon @aroeddiediaz @giddyupbuck @rainbow-nerdss @loserdiaz @thewolvesof1998 @eddiescowboy @eddiebabygirldiaz @spaceprincessem @athenagranted @evanbegins @elvensorceress @malewifediaz @911onabc @911-on-abc @hoodie-buck @ladydorian05 @bigfootsmom @thekristen999 @spagheddiediaz @rogerzsteven @honestlydarkprincess @doublecheekeddiaz @buck-coded @prosperdemeter2 @lemonzestywrites @gayedmundodiaz @transboybuckley @nmcggg

[pccyouthleader]

A little one-shot in honor of Aurora’s birthday!

@e-vay @evayart

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

Birthday Escape

Aurora was putting the finishing touches on her evening attire when the doorbell rang. She looked at the deep purple jogging suit and comfortable sneakers in the mirror and tilted her head. It wasn’t exactly what she had expected to wear when Shadow asked to take her out for her birthday. But she knew he had a reason for the suggestion.

“Tiny?” called Sonic from downstairs. “The Faker- I mean - Shadow’s here!”

She rolled her eyes and laughed to herself. Her dad couldn’t help but get a dig in whenever he could. Aurora grabbed her shoulder bag and headed for the stairs.

After kissing her parents goodbye and promising to be back by midnight, she slipped out the front door. She was anxious to learn what Shadow had planned for the evening. He stood leaning against the porch rail with his arms crossed.

Aurora’s heart did a little flip-flop as her eyes took in his perfect smile, his long, lean form, and the alluring look he reserved for only her.

“Happy birthday, Light,” he said in a low voice that always sent tingles up her spine. “Are you ready to go?”

“I am - but can you tell me the reason for the comfortable dress code?” she asked with a grin.

“You’ll see,” Shadow responded, leading her to his motorcycle and helping her on behind him. After donning her helmet, they set off in the direction of town. It was nearing 4 o’clock and the sun was just beginning to sink in the sky.

In town, Shadow pulled his motorcycle into a parking lot next to a nondescript building with a glowing neon sign.

“An escape room?!!!” Aurora squealed, bounding from the bike. “Shadow, I can’t wait!” No wonder he had suggested the comfy clothing!

“I thought it might be something you’d like to try,” he said, pulling her helmet off as she bounced up and down on the balls of her feet.

Once inside, they approached a tall desk with a bored-looking teenager seated behind it.

“What theme would you like?” Shadow asked Aurora as they studied the information board. Her eyes settled on a title written in old-fashioned letters. “Let’s do ‘Mystery in the Haunted Mansion!” Aurora suggested.

The teenager piped up. “I’m sorry - that one is reserved for parties of four or more people.”

Shadow glared at him, then walked up to the desk. After reaching in his jacket pocket, he slid something across to him. “You were saying?”

“Um… I was saying, ‘Right this way!’” The teenager scrambled off his stool and started down a dark corridor with doors on either side. Shadow and Aurora fell into line behind him.

“What gave you the idea for an escape room?” Aurora whispered to Shadow.

He gave a sly smile. “It’s a great way to hone your sleuthing skills.”

“I’ll always be the Nancy Drew to your Sherlock Holmes,” she said, slipping her hand in his.

Shadow looked at her quizzically. “I don’t know what that means.”

Aurora gave a soft laugh as she remembered the stack of detective novels Eggman had secretly given her each birthday since she was able to read. She still wondered where in the world he had gotten them.

The teen stopped at a door at the end of the hallway and began going over the rules of the game in a dull voice. “Once you enter the code and press the button at the end, the game will be over and the door will unlock,” he said. “You have an hour to complete all the tasks and win the game.”

“Let’s do it!” said Aurora, itching to get started. She and Shadow walked into the room, and the door closed behind them with a thud. The second the door lock clicked into place, the lights dimmed and a message appeared on a screen with the backstory.

The game commenced, and together Shadow and Aurora found clues, solved riddles, and examined evidence until they were certain they had solved the case.

“The only thing we have left to do is enter this code and we will have won!” Aurora said, thinking it was the quickest hour she had ever experienced.

“Wait a minute…” said Shadow, looking at the clock counting down near the door. “We solved all the clues in 15 minutes!”

“But how?” Aurora asked incredulously.

“Well, when you play with the Ultimate Lifeform…” began Shadow, stifling a laugh. Aurora shot him an amused glance.

“So that means we have 45 minutes left…” she said.

“Locked away in a small room…” Shadow added.

“All by ourselves…”

They looked into each other’s eyes, drinking in the realization.

“Wanna make out?” Shadow said with a smirk.

Aurora gave him an amorous look. “I thought you’d never ask…”

[notstilinski]

The Smosh & the Furious Starters !

Taken from the 2025 Smosh Games' video, The Smosh & the Furious! Some of these have already been edited. You can change them however you see fit! There may be some light spoilers for the video, as well! 

“Nobody rely on (Name).”

“Yeah, it’s honestly a lot of the family pressure that’s kind of getting to me, but, you know, don’t forget, I am (Name).”

“They go wherever I go, when I decide they come.”

“And you understand that in terms of injury or loss of life, no one here is responsible?”

“Can I say something without judgement?”

“You’ve had twelve in the past fifteen minutes.”

“These races have a code to them. I just want to make sure we’re being honorable.”

“Very good. As we’ve trained you to do.”

“We’re both relating to each other over it. Having new conversations. It’s really great!”

“(Name), don’t do anything stupid.”

“Diet (Name) Light Zero.”

“You know, daddy would be disappointed if I didn’t win more.”

“There’s no such thing as win hard, only win harder.”

“(Name) don’t respect nobody!”

“I love a mistake that is in your favor, absolutely.”

“Are they… Do they look friendly?”

“Go make Daddy proud.”

“I suppose, you lose to the best, huh?”

“Dad is just going to be happy he has you. He doesn’t need me.”

“It wasn’t even a fair race to begin with. So why does it even matter?”

“No, no, it’s not. Where’s my brother?”

“It’s cute, how all this runs in the family.”

“Seems like you kind of have no choice based on your whole general vibe.”

“If at the end of all this I get to strangle the life out of (Name), sure.”

“Listen, obviously you’re up to something. You’re wearing too much black for how hot it is outside.”

“I’ll kill you with a hammer.”

“This is gonna ruin the tour.”

“No, I’m not dating this guy, that’s weird.”

“Why? Everyone else gave up on me. Why do you care?!”

“So, yeah, I guess go be quitters together!”

“It’s a dream, (Name). Leaving the past. Drink yourself to death up here, for all I care.”

“I’m setting my sights back on you, we have a score to settle, okay?”

“I’m just here to make my sister happy, okay?”

“Hold on here. Are our lives in danger in this mission?”

“Self discovery, that seems to be a theme for you guys, huh?”

“This is not a guy you want to engage up close. This is absolutely a distance required target. Do not try to fight (Name) hand-to-hand.”

“I was wrong, I had clown shoes.”

“Thanks for visiting the CIA!”

“Oh, so now you guys are best friends? This is how it’s gonna be?”

“Do try not to break anything.”

“Oh, it had been a long time (Name). I was wondering when I would hear your voice again.”

“Don’t you die on me, (Name).”

“Don’t worry about your depressed nature, I’m Alexa Pro.”

“Oh, we gotta kill (Name). Ah.”

“You are one loca chica.”

“Just like back at the farm, baby!”

“Just get these cars out of my way!”

“(Name) pretty much had that figured out before the race. I hope you know that.”

“Okay, so to get you caught up, I took his good eye.” 

“I just want to make it very clear, this is the first time I’ve ever punched a woman.”

“God speed, you son of a bitch.”

“(Name), listen to me, this time? Break whatever you want.”

“I know that gait. Is that you, (Name)?”

“(Name). (Name), we don’t have to do this.”

“But I want this. This is for abandoning mom and I.”

“(Name) can’t get between this. There’s nothing more powerful than this.”

“Family. This is what it’s all about. That’s all that ever mattered to me. I hope you understand that.”

“Guess I’m not gonna get that rematch, (Name). That’s fine. I don’t like losing.”

“You turned me against my family.”

“All right guys, I think (Name) got stabbed, but silver lining, the enemy is dead.”

“Things a hell of a job, you all did well. We’ll be calling you in the future if we need anything, though, as promised, any criminal records have been wiped clean.”

“Oh, I can fix them. They just might come back a little different.”

“Not a team, a family.”

[mysticfoxdesigns]

My drafts were being weird @skatermusic so here we are

Heatwave headcanons

He was lower caste on Cybertron before coming to the Rescue Bots

This mf is shit at reading due to this, but he tries his best to hide it

His formal education is whatever they taught at the academy, and even then due to the age he was when he came in and his graduation year, his education level isn't as high as the others

He is street smart though, and has a basic understanding of things around him. He isn't stupid when you actually look into what he knows

Sometimes doubts his position as leader due to this. Majority of the team leaders have been fire bots, so he sometimes believes that is why he was chosen as Sigma 17's team leader

Doesn't help that their team's graduation was rushed. That part was never really explained to them

Out of all of the Sigma team he is closest to Chase, but isn't Amica level with him (that honor has been given to Blades)

Loves to lie to the humans about basic Cybertronian things. Things from how they sleep, refuel, if they can cry or not, all of that is fair game for him to lie about. Anything that can actually be useful for them to know, such as patching them up, he allows Blades to explain

Speaking of Blades, these two started to rough house more as Blade's confidence grew. The rest of the team likes to watch them wrestle with each other

Literally cannot tell if Quickshadow is either flirting with him or making fun of him. Blades does not make it any easier as well with his input

Blurr gets under his plating but most of that is due to him seeing a younger self in Blurr. He tries his best to guide Blurr away from making the same mistakes as him, but sometimes you just gotta let him learn the hard way

Will never admit it, but loves when Kade insists on them visiting different scenic areas of Griffin Rock. The scenery was one of the small things that made him want to stay

Speaking of these times, he will also never admit that he loves hearing the stories Kade tells him. When he isn't trying to pose up for others, Kade actually makes a good talking partner to the bot.

While he doesn't fully understand the whole Kaiju movie industry, he will admit that watching giant monsters beat the shit out of each other is entertaining. Kade has dragged him off to a Godzilla movie marathon

Cody throws off his guardian coding, especially with all of the danger he gets into

He teaches Cody with his holoform different self defense mechanisms, and sometimes drags Kade in to be the test dummy

Has broken his training dummy so many times that Boulder had refused to fix it for 2 solid months. After that they came to a conclusion to create a metal one

Will allow Chase to infodump about his detective movies and books, but if there were a test at the end, he would fail

Finds metal and punk music to be the most similar human music to his favorite Cybertronian genres of music

Use to follow Megatron's speeches due to his position in the lower caste, but gave up on him after the council meeting and the fall out after that

"Why the frag is half of this island brain dead?"

Has never killed a man or bot, but isn't opposed to it if he weren't a Rescue Bot and was under oath

Is very sassy after the bots are revealed to the community. Has ruined many of Huxley's clips by swearing in English

Swears the most in English, but Blades wins for Cybertronian swearing

Races Hightide in boat mode. Only won once because Hightide took pity

Would gladly fuck up MECH if they met

And those are some Heatwave headcanons! Hope you enjoy