#AND HERE'S FUCKIN OVEN. DEAL WITH IT.

[nohoney]

Bakugou would listen to you rant all about work. Even though he’s the one out on the streets with more exciting stories to tell, one of his favorite things is to hear you talk about your own work. He follows and nods along with whatever work story you have for him for the day, always attentive but never telling you what you should do to handle it (as he had learned from a prior relationship).

“I can tell he fuckin’ hates me, you know?” You continue on about your current work events as you sit on the countertop and watch Bakugou cut vegetables, “He keeps on bringing up my old manager as if she has anything to do with it now. Like, no motherfucker! You answer to me now and I’m saying pay your stupid invoice!”

The vegetables for dinner are set aside while the oven is still preheating. Two pieces of pork chop are taken from the fridge and is set aside on a clean plate as Bakugou looks for spices to rub into the meat. “So what happened baby? Did he pay? Y’said you were dealing with this for almost two weeks.” He asks you, genuinely curious if your annoying client is actually complying with you. The thought in his head is wondering how you handled it.

“I have to read you this email that I wrote. I gotta say the professional ways of dissing someone in email is something I finally understand now.” You laugh as you pull up your work email on your phone. Word for word you read out your well thought out response to your difficult client, not backing down and upholding work policy as you are expected to. Bakugou had never really bothered with any type of skill of being professional through communication in his job; it’s what his team is for while he gets the really privilege to cuss as he pleases and have his team handle it for the public. “Here is how I signed off, I think it’s probably my most eloquent and business-like ‘fuck you’ I’ve written so far.”

You clear your throat first before reading aloud, “‘I hope that the explanations of how to navigate your account has cleared up any confusion you may have and that you are able to move forward in compliance with our company policy, if you have any further questions then please let me know.’ God I know he’s going to hate me as soon as he reads it!”

He chuckles, happy that you know how to stand your ground in such a manner that Bakugou knows he struggles in. “You tell him, baby.”

“I fucking did Katsuki!” You boast with a proud little smile as you hop off the countertop and go to his side as he heats oil in a pan. “Sorry, I’ve been going on about this annoying client for a while. I wanna hear about your work today Tsuki.”

Bakugou shakes his head though and urges you to talk about what else happened at your work. The meat sizzles as he presses it into the pan, crackling and sizzling in a way that’s reminiscent of his quirk but to a much lower degree. The oven beeps to indicate that preheating is finished and you move to put all the vegetables into the glass pan and stick it in for him, already setting a timer before he can even ask. “What about that other guy? The one who keeps on saying that he’s getting investors so he wants to make you wait a little longer?” He asks you when he recalls another client you complained of a few days ago.

You excitedly pop off about your work again, unknowing how you calm Bakugou down with your own work stories. Your series of responsibilities that he wouldn’t know the first clue how to handle are interesting to him to hear how you handle yourself. It’s simple compared to what he does but in no way is it easy either. To see you struggle sometimes with your own career wasn’t easy for him but you were also strong enough to handle it all the same.

And he liked to think that he made it easy for you to handle because he wanted to hear anything and everything about your job that’s so different from his. “Tell me about the parking permits, did that get solved yet?” He asks as he starts to set food on the plates.

“No! I’m on week three of dealing with it and it’s ridiculous! I sent everything in so early and they deal with it so late!!”

Bakugou listens with a happy heart to hear you talk, never wanting you to apologize over the things that frustrate you. And by the end of your rants, even he feels a little lighter as he readies to get in bed with you.

And the next day as he’s just about to enter a meeting in his agency, Bakugou gets a text from you.

[1:57 pm] omg i need to tell you what this mofo emailed me when we’re home

He looks forward to it, letting a little smile come onto his face. He can see you all cute and puffed up and mad, and he can’t wait to hear about it.

[1:58 pm] can’t wait baby. love you.

You text him back within seconds.

[1:58 pm] love you!!!

Bakugou can’t wait to be home and listen to you.

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Yandere Brother Pt 3

Tw: suffocating unbearable love, violence, general yandere, female reader shenanigans, infantilization, and of course incest. also christmas

minors and ageless blogs dni please <3

click here for part 1 and part 2

Click here for my new oc Yves (PLEASE READ IT I LOVE YVES)

plotholes and emglish errors everywhere and i could not be bothered :100emoji: please dont point it out thanks xoxo

Caught the Covid fuk now i cant leave my bed im so damn sick and pukey all the time, i dont fuckin know where my roommate is but at least they're not here to get infected, feeling like a busted up rustbucket rn

So this was originally written last year, couldnt find what else to write but this christmas time is perfect, so like dont mind the shoehorning of Christmas somewhere in this fic

You're having your summer break and you plan to pick up on a new hobby. Crocheting, perhaps.

Fuck, your brother picked up your search history from his spyware. Now you're left to deal with $1000 worth of wonderful quality crocheting materials and your big brother being your personal crocheting mentor.

This is where it gets frustrating. Yes, if you have the resources, you would enjoy your hobbies more. But, just like... What if you didn't like crocheting in the end? You're stuck with all these.

It happens to every single potential hobby. Stamp collecting? Your big brother will bid to the death for an extremely rare stamp from the 1900. You're not even fucking collecting the stamps, the stamp book already comes arranged with all the stamps ever produced. A collection that would only give a hardcore stamp collector an instant orgasm upon sniffing it.

Nail art? Where the hell should you keep all the acrylic powders, fake nails, drills and drill bits? Not to mention the dizzying numbers of nail polishes, nail brushes, nail stickers and cuticle sticks. Of course, your big brother is going to hire a professional nail artist to make sure you're practicing your hobby safely while he's learning how to do it himself, so he could replace your mentor too. He would become so skilled that he could qualify to open up a 5 star nail salon. But he's not interested unless you are.

Painting? you absolutely do NOT need all of those tubes of paint. The difference in shades for some of them are so small that you mistook it for the same colour. You would have a headache choosing the right type of paper, right type of primer and right type of fixative to use.

Are you having troubles on painting? Let big brother teach you. You would sit on his lap as he guide your hands across the canvas. Don't you think his warm hand enveloping yours feel nice? Doesn't his free hand feels nice sensually rubbing your thigh? Don't you just feel protected in his hold?

Makeup? Same situation with your nail hobby. You're essentially being babied by him and experienced celebrity makeup artists, you would drown in a mountain of eyeshadow palettes, primers, setting sprays, skin care products, anything and everything related to makeup.

Every instrument ever? Big brother would insist lovingly providing all the music lessons you need. He is a musical prodigy after all. If it's something ridiculously obscure like a Glass Armonica or the Theremin, big brother would master it in a couple of weeks, earn a fucking pHD in it and THEN teach you. No instrument is too expensive or hard for him. Your big brother is crossing his fingers HARD for you to have this hobby.

Chess? Oh, he is also a prodigy in it. He could teach you. Your chess pieces would be custom made to your liking, by the way. It would be the perfect density, perfect size, perfect texture for you. He knows what you like and you hate that.

Sports? Take a look at his "achievement room". It's filled to the brim with golden medals and trophies of every sport competition ever. He's not leaving you alone for this one.

Pottery? Welcome to your very own personal pottery studio, furnished with all types of drying racks, ovens, kilns, turntables and equipments you have never heard of. Big brother is always there to supervise you, making sure there won't be any accidents.

Cooking and baking? You get to have an industrial sized kitchen all for yourself. Everything is decorated such that it looks like you would be on television, starring in a cooking show. You don't need to clean anything, or prep anything, or actually do anything, really. There's a team of professional chefs and assistants to do everything for you. They're paid to cheer and clap and celebrate when you pour cake batter into a pan.

Gardening? Well, there's a massive plot of fertile land for you to garden to your heart's content at the house he bought as your 18th birthday gift. If you want a big project, it will be done overnight. You wouldn't hear the gigantic machineries and vehicles tumbling about due to the soundproof walls he installed. No one would be able to hear you both either, doing god-knows-what inside.

Video games? Your big brother personally do not encourage you to pursue this. But... Nonetheless, he would spoil you rotten with all the latest gaming consoles, limited edition merchandises, pre release copies of your favorite game franchises and whatever your gamer heart desires. All at a hefty price of... Daily cuddles and kisses. And you also have to move in with him. And he gets to decide what game you're playing, if he deems it a "bad influence"? It is not staying in his house.

You rather not.

Nothing is fun because the fun parts are already done for you. You don't get to experience the highs and lows of picking up a hobby, you don't get to explore and experiment. You're literally cursed with luxury.

So imagine your boredom, stress and paranoia during summer break. All your friends are spies for your brother, your hobbies aren't even "yours", leaving your house would inevitably lead you to your brother and all digital footprints are heavily scrutinized by him too. No privacy, no autonomy, all monotony.

You juggled three smartphones at once. Throwing one up in the air, catching the other one with your dominant hand, throwing the last to your other hand. Who gives a damn if one, or all of them breaks? It's riddled with spyware and your big brother would buy you every time a new model is released anyways. Which is... A new phone, a month?

You stopped caring where he gets the money. Obviously he has an assload and can afford to wipe his ass with thousand dollar bills regularly.

It's summer break. One last resort to try and spend your time like a regular ol teenager is taking up a part time summer job. There is a wide variety of jobs to choose from with your qualification. Granted, it's minimum wage and mostly customer service.

If you work as a barista, the cafe or juice bar you'll be working at will LOVE the crap out of you.

Your older brother will visit daily and increase their sales tenfold. Of course, he would pick the drinks that you like doing. It's okay if you fucked up, its only your beloved big brother's order, you can add as much sugar, salt, pepper, cyanide as you want. He will never yell at you, never tell you that you made anything wrong or never even die.

The management will suddenly see a surge in daily customer count. Thanks to big brother's networking. And like him, they also will accept anything you make with no complaint... As per his instructions. You could go full on ridiculous and give them a cup of ice drizzled with strawberry scented dish soap and call it Tutti Frutti, they would still pay for it and take it with them. Though, you're not sure if they ever consumed anything from you.

Without fail, your brother would visit you during every break and hand you your meal along with a kiss on the forehead or the cheek. He would bring you out to eat but you would refuse everytime. You also didn't want his company, which made him pout and whine without fail. But it's nice that he would actually back off after the sixth "no".

However, you know that fucker is watching you from a hidden camera somewhere in the nooks and crannies of whatever breakroom you're resting in.

He would engulf you in a big hug when you get off work, telling you how proud he is of you for getting through another workday like a champ. Praising you for all the hard work and excellent performance, making sure to soothe and comfort you if you happen to come across a rude customer earlier in the day.

You try not to think too much about their fate.

You will be fed, bathed and loved after every shift.

Hell, he would even build up a company from scratch just to hire you. Any position you want, barista, manager, cashier, back office work, janitor- you name it, you get the "job" and get paid a pretty penny. All your other coworkers and customers are probably paid actors and actresses to simulate a "real life working experience" safely. He controls it all, making sure you have just the right amount of drama, the right amount of diplomacy and the right amount of gossiping. You're rarely pushed out of your comfort zone, though. Big brother always has your safety and best interests at heart.

Of course, he will never tell you all of this, to keep the immersion going. You're going to feel sad that you're not exactly experiencing reality. But a bastardization of it. Might as well star in a trashy reality TV show instead, at least, it's much more authentic than whatever your big brother has going on for you.

He doesn't need to even tell you though. You would pick it up easily and quickly especially if you already watched the Truman Show. Don't tell him you did, god help you if he ever gets an inkling that you knew about the existence of the Truman Show. He deemed that movie as demonic propaganda and he needs to lecture some sense into you. If you want out, just say that you're 'bored' and want to do something else. Your big brother will gladly drop everything and do anything in his power to help you "achieve" what you want.

But for the sake of "plot" in this latest installment, you agreed to work in a quaint little bubble tea stall. Where you're the only employee, making drinks for whoever is ordering in front of the shop's decorated window.

Of course, your big brother miraculously happens to work in a nearby skyscraper as one does. It's not that you didn't do your research, you were a hundred percent certain he didn't work in that building, because that fucker never goes to work... At least, physically. Perhaps he does his job, whatever that may be, through online means.

You were planning to use your bicycle to get there that you got yourself with "your" money. He never bought you a car or a bike or anything that would get you around, he saw it as something unnecessary. Why would you need it when big brother is available 24/7 to bring you anywhere?

Actually, you could have gotten yourself a car with the allowance he gives you every day for being cute and adorable, and being patient with his incessant kisses and hugs and cuddles and love and touches and his fucking insanity in general.

But you know that he's going to kick up a massive fuss about driving alone. It was hell to even get your license with him actively trying to sabotage you at every exam- which includes him stooping so low to bribe the examiner to fail you. However, you persevered, and you got that stupid license. All the while, he was lamenting about how you're going to leave him all alone, how you don't need big brother anymore, how society pressured you to grow up too fast and recklessly drive off wherever.

You knew better than to fall for that. Or even entertain it either. Eventually, he gave up trying to guilt trip you into crying, apologizing to him and sobbing in his arms, promising that you won't leave him.

It's not like he DIDN'T kick up a fuss when you said you're using a bicycle either. He began freaking out about your safety, fearing that you might get run over.

Well. You admitted defeat. He's driving you to fucking work and back. It's not worth it to fight this battle.

So you began working in the stall. You had someone train you for your first 2 weeks. Then you were on your own.

The owner, who is also the person who showed you the ropes around there, said business isn't good, but it isn't bad either. So you didn't need to worry about rush hour where hoards of thirsty, sleep deprived office workers trample over each other to get their daily boba fix. It's pretty peaceful working there.

But what you do need to worry about, is your fucking big brother.

He would come and buy a drink, whichever you like to make. It can be the most expensive one, or the cheapest one, the most elaborate one or the simplest one. It's up to you, he will pay for it and happily drink what you made.

You could make him pay for the most expensive drink there is but serve him a cup of lukewarm water, and he would still drink it with glee and fork over his money, telling you to keep the change (which is usually a hundred bucks extra).

Let's say you want to be decent and make him drink that you know he would actually like. Which is anything that tastes generally fruity. And insist that you like making it even though it actually sucks.

He knows. He can tell that you're specially making his favourite drink. And that makes him happy and more obsessed with you if that's even possible at this point.

He would leave a massive tip and a kiss on your forehead.

Although your brother is fucking gross and weird like that, you still love him. Probably a bad idea but you're working so hard, trying your best to earn money honestly just to get him a Christmas gift.

Despite the restraining order between your parents and him, your brother is still invited back home each year to be jolly together. Preparations start a few days before Christmas, where you would see an unusual sight.

All of your immediate family members in the same room, or at least in the same house together without fighting to the death. Your dad's bones are intact, your mom didn't have her insecurities jabbed on for once. They're not exactly on speaking terms, per se.

You woke up one morning to see an... appropriate sized tree for your parent's house, erected in the middle of the living room. Adorned with beautiful ornaments and... are those pictures of you on the ornaments?

Wrapped presents were patiently sitting under the tree. There was a small box with your father's name on its tag, another small one with your mother's name on it. A decent sized box was addressed to your brother, must be a combined present from your parents.

Your shoulders sagged in defeat when you saw your presents took up the perimeter of the tree and even conquered the couch, the back of the couch and under the coffee table. You lost count after gift box #27.

Since everyone is in the kitchen, you quickly place the presents you got for your parents... and your brother.

You panned to the fireplace. Your Christmas stocking is filled so much to the brim that your brother must have added 5 more next to your original one. Your parents' and your brother's stockings are relatively empty. You stuffed them with candies and nuts to make them look less embarrassing.

You straightened your back, that should do it. Your ears perked up when you heard some clamoring in the kitchen. It must be your brother.

You let out a surprised yelp when you're yanked back by a pair of arms that snuck around your waist. "Merry Christmas, my little wittle precious baby!" You squeezed your eyes shut and scrunched your face as he attacked you with a barrage of kisses.

He giggled and squealed as he held you in his arms and twirled you around in glee. You let out a scream of horror as your feet dangle off the ground. He does this every Christmas morning when you were a child to wake you up further and get you excited for the holiday. But you're not a kid anymore, and this is horrifying.

Finally, he stopped and put you down. Your hair is frazzled and the world around you is gyrating. He squeezed you in another hug and gently rocked you side to side.

He immediately unlatched when you said you're hungry. Your big brother gleefully lead you to the dining table, where he fixes up a napkin around your neck like a bib. You asked him why is he tying a ribbon on your hair, he said that you are his Christmas present and he is spoiling himself this year.

Before you could respond, he gave you a brief peck on the head before frolicking away into the kitchen.

Your parents came out of the kitchen, greeting you. They're holding a tray full of steaming hot breakfast foods, no doubt your brother forced them to make it for you. Every Christmas generated a metric ton of leftovers. It's because your brother wanted you to try all of the foods from all over the world. But don't worry though, the leftovers could be so intact that it was given out to neighbors and friends and extended families. Some didn't even need to cook after that, the sheer amount of leftovers was enough to fuel ten more Christmas gatherings.

Croissants, quiches, various types of bread, eggs, ham, bacon even panettone made from scratch. Looking at the spread in front of you is dizzying, your big brother sets down the last plate right between your hands. It's a breakfast plate your brother customized to fit your usual preference, everything is shaped into a heart. He patted your head as he took a seat next to you.

Everyone ate in silence. Everyone was focusing on their own meal except... your brother. Who else would rather stare at you adoringly instead?

He asked if you wanted to go make snowmen outside. Not without proper winter protection, that is. You shrugged, it's not like you could escape your family anyway. Your friends are all busy with their own families, and you don't even have friends. Everything is closed and if you lock yourself in your room, your brother will just pick the fucking lock and force his way in.

Your parents tried making small talk, this earned a feral glare from your brother because it interrupted the connection between the both of you. They paid him no mind and began asking about your life. You tiredly replied to their questions and asked some back yourself, to try to find any sense of normalcy. Your brother would be disengaged with the words coming out of your parents mouth, but highly interested in what you had to say.

The rest of the morning went by uneventfully. You offered to help clear the table and do the dishes. Your brother just 'aww'd at you and gave you an appreciative kiss on your forehead. That wasn't an explicit yes, he appreciated the gesture, but he wouldn't allow you to dirty your hands doing chores.

He told you to wait for him to clean up. In the mean time, he gave you permission to open some of the gifts he got you. Frankly, you don't even want to deal with it at all, it's just too much crap. You decided to go through the stockings instead and grab some snacks for yourself.

As expected, he filled it with the most expensive treats and the freshest oranges. These types of foods are usually served in a formal setting, like eating gold crusted caviar at a 10 star restaurant, all dressed up in fancy clothes. But he just... shoved it in a Christmas stocking as if they're mundane chocolates.

Whatever, you shoved some into your pockets.

You turned around to see your brother smiling lovingly at you. He wrapped a puffer jacket around you, his scarf with his cologne on it, a pair of thick mittens on your hands , a winter hat snuggly fitted to your head, and a pair of thick pants he made you wear in front of him.

He picked one of your numerous christmas presents and handed it to you. He clasped his hands together expectedly as he watches you.

Your brother urged you to open it, go wild. Rip the wrapping to shreds. You felt so bad seeing how well wrapped it is and the quality of the wrapping paper is... indescribably good. It doesn't even feel like paper, it feels like silk.

So your carefully dismantled it, trying not to tear anything. You look up to see that your brother is pointing his camera at you, capturing this very precious moment. He encouraged you to go on.

You managed to remove the packaging and revealed a box of expensive winter boots. These are high quality and you would have been the source of envy even though most of your "friends" are also from wealthy families. Not everyone gets to have these.

You appreciate it but... You already had a pair of winter boots, the ones from last year, and the year before that. And the year before that, and a week ago where your brother is freaking out about you potentially having frostbite on your toes.

"It's the latest model! It was released as a part of a Christmas special, it will keep you warm and protect your feet too. It was selling out fast, I'm so glad I managed to get a pair for you, I can't have my sweetiepie sad on Christmas day!" Gushed your brother. You slipped them on.

You can't tell the difference between the one you had last year and the one on your feet now. Maybe some minor difference in it's stylistic design but... they're equally as comfortable.

You thanked your brother and finally gave him what he actually wanted from all this: a hug. He put away his phone and returned the embrace, sinking so deep into your jacket that neither of you can move without stumbling. You know he expected you to show gratitude for all his gifts through his main love language; touch.

It is exhausting.

After that, he brought you out to his private plot of land which he made into a park, complete with swingsets, monkey bars and slides. But these aren't for the public, it's for you. All the equipment are well maintained and look brand new even though you know it's been there for years.

He's not fond of throwing snowballs because it could hurt you. But he allows you to throw as much as you want at him. Even after the stunt you pulled last year.

You packed snow around a rock and hurled at him with all your might, it went straight to his head and his right eye was busted for months. Your brother didn't see that as something wrong, though. Even if you tried to apologize, he said that it was an accident and it was alright, he still loves you dearly and you did 'nothing wrong'. The first thing he did after recovering from his injuries at the hospital is to take you out for hot chocolate and then give you a backrub back home because winter could make your muscles stiff; and hence you must feel strained and sore.

He was still mildly bleeding from his gauze at the time, it was covering at least 70% of his upper head. Your brother was clueless when you asked if he needs any painkiller for his recent injury. He claimed to not feel the pain, but his wincing tells you otherwise. He rewarded you for your concern nonetheless with hugs and kisses and another massage.

You laid yourself on the snowy ground and started making snow angels. Your brother had his camera out and began capturing every moment he has with you.

You felt uncomfortable. And the cold is nipping at your bones even though you're thoroughly insulated by the sophisticated winter gear your brother made you wear. You're ready to go home now.

It shocked your brother and made him a bit desperate. He stammered and stumbled over his words, asking you if you wanted to play on the swing, build a snow man, play on the slides, the merry go around and... throw snowballs at him. Are you cold? He was in the middle of removing his own jacket to layer it onto you, but you stopped him.

You said you're tired. You don't find this fun and you're too old for this.

Maybe you're thirsty? He packed a flask filed with steaming hot chocolate for you- no? You're not thirsty or hungry? Maybe you wanted to use the bathroom-- no? You don't have to go?

He tried listing out all the possible reasons you wanted to go home and all its' solutions. Desperately wanting you to stop growing up so fast.

You got sick and tired of this, you yelled at him at the top of your lungs that you wanted to go home. You then stormed away towards the car, leaving your brother to stand there in silence, his camera capturing your explosive outburst.

Your brother saw you slamming the door angrily as you got in.

He sighed, gulping and hovering his finger over the delete button. But he ultimately decided against erasing the footage, it's still a video of you after all. Your brother assured that he's coming to the car, he wipes a stray tear away as he heads to his vehicle.

The both of you stayed silent as he drove you home.

Once you arrived, you bolted out of the car and ran back in. Locking yourself in the bedroom and barricading the door with random furniture. Hugging your knees close to your chest as you pray that your brother does not go after you by climbing into your windows.

And... he didn't. He left you alone for once. For a few hours too. It gave you the much needed relief, you felt like you could breathe now.

You're starting to feel a bit hungry. And you're hungry enough to be willing to face your older brother. So you began unbarricading, placing your dressers to it's original place.

You carefully unlocked the door, fully expecting him to be waiting outside for you. To your surprise, no one was in the hallway. You could hear some noises downstairs, in the kitchen.

You cautiously went down, the tree is still intact. Nothing is broken and there doesn't seem to be signs of a fight. You released a breath that you didn't know that you were holding, happy to know that you don't need to spend another Christmas at the hospital visiting your badly battered parents.

You whipped your head to the sound of your brother calling your name softly. He's holding a baking tray and a bowl, you can't tell what is in there because he's too tall. He smiled at you as he set it down on the dining table. The tray contained freshly baked parts of a gingerbread house and the bowl contained vanilla frosting.

You scanned the rest of the table. There are numerous small glass bowls containing different types of candy and snacks; from pretzel sticks to colourful chocolate rocks, to real gold leaves. Piping bags with metal tips are present too next to a box of plastic gloves.

Your brother pulled your chair out and invited you to sit there. You did, and he called you a good girl. His good girl. As you put on a pair of plastic gloves, he kissed you on the temple.

You asked where your parents are. He said that they're preparing the food for dinner, which includes ham and a roast turkey. And 15 other dishes.

You quizzed on, asking if there will be more people coming in. He shook his head: no. It's only the four of you. In the meantime, you should enjoy yourself building this gingerbread house. He puts on his own pair of plastic gloves too and began filling the piping bag with icing.

The two of you worked in peace, you opting to decorate the house while he pipes the details on the gingerbread men.

There is only two, a large one and a smaller one. You can guess which represents who.

You noticed the odd choice of attaching the small one to the large one's torso. With strategic use of the candies and frosting, he made it look like the larger gingerbread man is carrying the smaller one on its hip. He piped your defining features onto the baby gingerbread, and piped his features on the larger one.

He noticed you staring, your brother asked if you had a hard time connecting the pieces with frosting and if you needed his help. You said no, you just need a spatula from the kitchen. He tried to get up from his seat, but you pushed him back down, saying that you can get it yourself. He pouted, telling you to be careful and not touch the knives or stoves. Your brother went back to obsessing over the details on his gingerbread men.

You went inside the kitchen and greeted your parents who are busy cooking. You go through the drawers to find a silicone spatula and decided to help pick up some stray food scraps on the floor, throwing them into the bin. But as soon as you step on the pedal and have the lid swing open, you saw two crushed, but perfectly edible, gingerbread men in the garbage bin.

You returned to the dining table to see that your big brother is proudly presenting his work. He said this represents you and him... as if you already haven't figured it out. He said he dreams of having you live with him in a perfect fantasy house, fantasy world where you never have to grow up. And he will always be there by your side, taking care of you till the end of time. You will be pampered and spoiled rotten, you don't have to do anything, you don't have to lift a finger. Your big brother will do everything for you. He would even breathe for you if he could.

You nodded in acknowledgement, too tired to engage with him. You sat back down, continued with the gingerbread house. You failed to notice the flicker of sadness in his eyes, your brother felt so neglected and unwanted these few years. He wished that you were a kid again so the both of you could play together and be happy. The more he tries to win your favour, the more distant you get from him. He is endlessly chasing and you are running non-stop.

The rest of the afternoon went by uneventfully, other than the fact that your big brother rests his head on your shoulder the whole time.

Now, it's time for dinner. You tried helping them bring out the dishes, your brother praised you for being a darling as usual. He lets you have the first bite of the turkey, tearing a small inconspicuous piece of flesh from the bird and hand feeding it to you. It's still warm, juicy and delicious. Maybe it's the feeling of being special that makes it even tastier.

You chew as you brought out the casserole, setting it down on the table.

You looked at the spread. It looks like a buffet at a high end hotel. So many varieties and extremely nutritious.

Your brother fixed your napkin bib for you again and took food for you. Slumping in your seat, you were thinking of protesting but you knew it's easier to just wait for him to carve the best parts of the turkey for you and let the food pile up neatly on your plate first. He returned it to you, all your favourite dishes are on it within sensible portions. But these are still a lot of food for a person.

He didn't care about praying. Your brother wanted you to eat as soon as possible because you must be hungry. And it is absolute sacrilege to let you go hungry.

You insisted that you join your parents in saying grace and you're not that hungry. Your brother looks uncomfortable, still believing in his sick mind that you're starving to the point of emaciation. But since you are adamant in doing such 'pointless' things In his mind, he agrees, only if he leads it.

Everyone bowed their head down and held each others' hands.

Your brother said the shortest, most insincere, laziest grace ever. Once he fulfilled your requirement, he urged you to eat.

You're upset, you felt really angry and you thought he was mocking you instead. So you opted to eat alone in your room, you made it clear that you didn't want anyone in. Especially not your big brother.

He cried out a desperate plea to get you to stay with him. You ignored him and took a couple more of your favourite finger foods. Predicting a fight between your brother and your parents.

You wrenched your arm away from his powerful grip and fled the scene, hurrying up the flight of stairs. Only slowing down when you're out of sight.

As you thought, sounds of verbal fighting started resonating throughout the house. You heard your brother screaming his head off at your parents for being bad influences and poisoning you to hate him. Your parents defended themselves and this only fuelled the fire. You didn't want to be around when your brother started hurling chairs, so you slammed the door as hard as you could. The sudden loud noise did stop the commotion downstairs briefly. But it continued soon after.

You ate alone, in your barricaded room. Wishing that you're born into a 'normal' family, with 'normal' trauma. To a lot of people, you are complaining about a blessing. But you are always feeling alone, the only person facing a problem which everyone sees as a solution.

You scraped the last bits of food with your spoon. Waiting for the sounds of the ambulance or at least for the fighting to quiet down.

You looked at the clock. It's 1 AM. It's been relatively quiet for a while now, they should be finishing up their fight or cleaning up. Time for you to return your plate.

You grunted as you pushed the furniture away from your door which felt like the umpteenth time. You left your room and head downstairs.

Hearing soft sobs from one person, your brother. He's sitting in front of the tree, hugging the present you left for him earlier. The presents addressed to your parents are both missing, presumably being taken back to their room. A blanket is loosely draped around his shoulders.

You took slow steps, unsure if you should comfort him or not. But before you can even decide to chicken out, he spotted you. However, to your surprise, he didn't approach you or tell you to come forward. He gave you a soft assuring smile, before returning his attention to the tree.

You set your plate aside and went by his side. Your brother watched you with puffy eyes full of love, yet it tells you that he has been irreparably hurt by something... or an accumulation of things.

"Thank you..." He whispered, refering to the gift you gave him. It isn't something particularly valuable to you. It's a picture of the entire family in a photo frame. Your brother is going to cherish it, because it is a gift from the person he loves most in the world. But deep down, he secretly wishes that it was a photo of you and him alone.

He still looks extremely upset and distraught. Almost like he is at the brink of a breakdown. Your brother usually verbalizes what he wanted, but he couldn't this time.

You wonder what your parents got for him. You peeked over his shoulder to see that an unopened box containing a plain T-shirt and a pair of socks is carelessly discarded to the corner of the room.

Then, it clicked. Just like you, he felt alone. Maybe you will never understand why he holds you so dear in his heart. Just like how no one will understand him either, his struggles are unique to him with no one to relate.

He destroyed the relationship between himself and your parents. His friends are all superficial. You're grown up and constantly rejecting his love.

Not a single one of you paid attention to him. Yes, it is hard to think of a present for someone who has everything. But they could have put in a bit more effort, the colour of the shirt and socks aren't even in his favourite colour or in the correct size. You could have removed your parents from the photo, your brother will never remove it himself. Because that would mean defacing your gift for him.

And growing up, your parents never saw him as... a person. As someone with feelings and a personality. They only saw his value as a trophy piece to show off to their friends and family. Same goes to his friends now, if it wasn't for his skills and possessions, he would be nothing to anyone.

He had to beg to be loved. Even that isn't reliable, he could give it his all and everyone around him will expect more. Your brother could never dream of being the receiving end of his own affection. It seems like an impossibility to him.

Perhaps he is doing all of these despite getting nothing but disgust and disdain from you is all to protect your innocence, to not put you through what he had to face. It's just that he went about it the wrong way. Or maybe he is just... wrong in the head. Or maybe he was hoping by loving you so much, you would give him the intense type of love he was yearning for his entire life.

Either way, he is alone.

The both of you are now seated in front of the fireplace. You didn't want to open presents, your brother is okay with that. He did not nag you to do it for once. Snuggling closer, the both of you shared a blanket. He still looks unhappy and crestfallen.

You remember you still had the ribbon bow on your head.

He hovered his arms around you as you squirm in his grip. You managed to crawl into his lap and rest your head on his chest. He lets out a chuckle and some sniffles, clamping his arms back down around you.

You reminded him of one last gift. Your brother is confused until he saw your ribbon.

From that moment on, he burst into tears of joy. He found you so unbearably adorable, so unbearably cute that his heart couldn't take it. An excited squeak escaped his lips as he held you even tighter. Peppering kisses all over your face, neck and head.

He started blabbering in baby talk, calling you every pet name and listing out everything he loved about his 'gift'. Repeating that this is the best gift he ever received and this is all he ever wanted. You are all he ever wanted. Praising that you remembered what he loves.

You hope that he could feel a little less lonely tonight. You can't peer into his head and know exactly what is going on inside. But you knew, he was happy.

Your breathing calmed him down and he closed his eyes, nuzzling against your neck. The collar of your shirt wet from his tears and your arms are secure around him. Your brother mumbled "I love you." as he adjusted you on his lap. Pressing your form against his, enjoying the heat that the both of you shared. Wishing that this moment will never end and you will never part from him.

You realized another thing too as he strokes your hair.

Your older brother is the only person in the world who harbors true, undying, unconditional love for you.

Even though he has his flaws, there will be no one else like him. Ever.

So you closed your eyes and melt into him. Just like before, you felt safe.

The both of you fell alseep in front of the hearth, surrounded by gifts, mostly unopened ones. Snowflakes floating down from the skies and landing delicately at the edge of the roof. Feeling unburdened and content in the living room.

Merry Christmas.

[mobbu-min]

☆ bragging rights ☆

(ft. the vice housewardens + ruggie)

After reading this fic where reader brags about the dorm leaders, could I request a version with the vice dorm leaders? And maybe the first years in the future? requested by anon PLEASE!! I LOVE YOUR FIC ABOUT BRAGGING THE DORMLEADER SIMPING RANT TO THE FIRST YEARS SHSBSJS MAKES ME ALL FLUFF 😭 Could you perhaps one day make the vice dorm vers, please?? no pressure of course— i just need all those fluff making me giggling at midnight on my bed because of the fluff its so CUTE!! requested by anon This https://at.tumblr.com/mobbu-min/request-what-if-the-dorm-leaders-had-an-so/qt4e3a02k8z8 this right here was the cutest shit I've ever read. If it's not too much to ask of you, is it alright if we had a version with the Vice Dorm Leaders? Jamil's either gon be smug as fuck or shocked. requested by anon

a/n i decided to put Ortho in the first year part which is probably going to be posted tomorrow tbh

tw cursing and reader is horny for a lot of them

want more? here is part one: bragging rights

Trey + Ace/Deuce <3

⋆ Ace can understand why you’d brag about Trey. I mean it’s Trey Clover. Literally the most husband material of the husbands. He’s good looking, can bake, smells nice, cleans well, can bake, is good with kids (at least what Ace has heard), is perfect at dealing with Riddle. Did he mention that Trey can bake? Anyways, Ace actually doesn’t have anything bad to say. Sure you’re annoying and Ace can’t seem to look Trey in the eyes after all the filth that comes out of your mouth. He can’t delete the memory of you ogling Trey while he was bending down to get something out of the oven and drooling, ‘man, what I would do to get a bite out of that ass’. He legit considered drowning his eardrums in bleach, yuck.

⋆ Same as Ace, but he gets so flustered everytime you say anything remotely dirty. But anyways, Deuce actually really loves the way you talk so highly and lovingly of Trey. Like yeah, it’s a little much and kinda makes Deuce feel like a third wheel despite the fact Trey is very much not present, but Deuce can’t help but want someone that would talk about him so highly as well. Also, he knows that Trey would take wonderful care of you and that’s all he could ask for. 

⋆ Trey is both shocked and happy. He’s pretty much used to people overlooking him because let's be honest, out of everyone in the dorm (hell probably the school), he’s the most normal one out there. But knowing that you’re willing to talk anyone’s ears off just about him makes him chuckle. You sure are something else, huh? Well, Trey doesn’t mind, actually he’ll probably show up at Ramshackle with your favorite sweet and show you what these hands can do~

He’s going to give you a massage, nasties

Ruggie + Jack <3

⋆ A respecter of his elders, Jack feels a sense of pride when you talk so highly of Ruggie. Though at first, he mistakes it as admiration and respect just like Jack feels for Ruggie, but something about the way your eyes light up and cheeks brighten quickly gives him another impression. Listen, Jack adores you and wants what's best for, however, that doesn’t mean Jacks wants to listen to your hour long rants about Ruggie. Again, Jack’s a chill guy, so he’ll water his plants and do other chores while you trail after him like a little duckling. It’s cute really

⋆Ruggle like ‘are they talking about me? You’re joking, nu-uh….oh shit!’ He gets so smug about it. His tail literally wags back and forth so fast he considers taping it to his side. Ruggie definitely wasn’t expecting it, because one, you hang out with a ton of cool people, and two, Ruggie is constantly messing with you (affectionately ofc). He definitely sees your relationship in a new light. Maybe he wouldn’t mind sharing some food sometime, just a thought.

Jade + Grim <3

⋆ Grim is so fuckin scared. He doesn’t know if it’s for you, or for him, all he knows is that he’s running for the hills anytime he sees that tall ass fucker. Like literally, you just had to choose the scariest person ever to simp for huh? You know that tiktok sound where it’s all like “Shut the fuck up! I’m so fuckin scared rn!”, yeah that’s Grim. Always on the verge of shitting himself or fighting Jade. Grim has not known peace.

⋆Jade is pleasantly surprised. Originally, he’s all like ‘I can totally get something out of this’ but eventually you wormed your way into his heart. Does he protest? No, because you’re genuinely the most interesting creature he’s ever met. Jade considers you one the most precious pearls in the world. So knowing you consider him a worth enough person to brag about makes him beyond happy. However, don’t expect that this relieves you of his teasing, because he finds this a perfect opportunity to amp it up.

Jamil + Grim <3

⋆ There’s two things that run through Grim mind when you ‘shockingly’ confess that you have the hots for Jamil. One, didn’t he literally kidnap us?! And two, hell yeah! Food! Grim walks a thin line between wanting to be mad at Jamil for what he did during winter break and falling in love with him instead, because damn, when Grim heard the saying ‘the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach’ he didn’t realize how true it was until Jamil became a recurring face in his life. 

⋆ Jamil is both shocked and smug. Like, he expected you to fall for Kalim, because he has money and is emotionally available. But! The fact that you didn’t fall for Kalim makes him 100x more smug! Like for once, Jamil beats Kalim and doesn’t have to a) feel burdened by it or 2) feel guilty. So it's a win-win situation! Jamil is calculating and observant, so he decided to go a safe route and cook you all your favorite food as a confession. And damn, he did not expect you to cry and wipe your boogers all over your sleeve because you were so happy. Maybe he can get used to it.

Rook + Epel <3

⋆ You really know how to choose ‘em huh? Epel is literally at his wit's end. All you talk about is Rook and all Rook talks about is you. And both you have a very weird and honestly, freaky, way of saying how much you love each other. Out of the two, Epel would much rather listen to Rook, because at least Epel doesn’t understand a word that comes out of his baguette loving mouth. But you? Epel swears that once he gets home he’s going to get his meemaw to wash out all the filthy things you said about Rook and what you wanted him to do to you. He realizes he’d much rather listen to Vil nag him. Just give the poor boy a break!

⋆ Okay okay okay, he’s known since the beginning. He knows it all! It’s so fuckin creepy, but damn does that make things ten times easier. Rook is instantly sweeping you off your feet and into bed to make all the things you said come true. He’s a gentleman, what can he say? Rook loves that you like to brag about him, it’s just so beautiful knowing that you both want each other. He can just explode at the thought. 

And he does…please interpret that however you like…

Lilia + Sebek <3

⋆ YOU TRULY ARE STUBBORN HUMAN!??!?!? Sebek is so fucking stingy about it. Like damn, okay you damn overgrown cucumber! Be stingy! Like that’s not going to stop you from getting laid. Does Sebek care though? No! Because he’s mean! Or more like, he doesn’t understand. But that's beside the point! Sebek will not let you get close to Lilia, not in his presence! What if you want to consume his mind and eat his brains?! Sebek can’t even imagine! Will fight you anytime and anywhere! Name the place, and he swears your ass is grass!

⋆ Okay, but alternatively, Sebek is a lot like how he was with Malleus and is all like ‘Yeah! Master Lilia is truly amazing! Human, you might actually be smart!’ and you’re just there with the widest grin because Sebek is your way to getting what you want(that being getting your guts rearranged). And everytime you come to him with the weirdest questions, Sebek merely bats his eyes and answers it without a second thought. Like ‘Of course, it’s big! It’s huge actually! Ginormous!...Eh, Human!? Why do you look ill?...Human, I haven't the slightest idea of what you could be referring to, but I was talking about his generosity. What else could there be that’s as big as his heart and wisdom?...tch, you better not get My Great Lord ill!”

⋆ Oh! How scandalous! You’re making him blush! Don’t you know it’s rude to make an old man’s heart want to burst? Literally cackles and gives you a big ass kiss. The things you do to this old man, like damn, he feels young again. Lilia is actually so funny about it because he wants to see you duel it out with Sebek for his hand, how lovely would that be? But also wants to whisk you away so you both can ‘game’ instead. Ugh, so many choices. Maybe he’ll let you both fight, so he can kiss your boo-boo’s away. How romantic!

Sebek do not question why I'm wobbling out of lilia’s room. Memories were made last night!

[sugartitstownley]

💙 A Trikey Lookbook 🧡

Here’s a collection of some fun Trikey stuff. I forgot Tumblr has a 10 image limit, so I had to combine some images, and there’s definitely going to be a part 2 and possibly part 3 because I have so many things in my gallery.

Warnings: Talk of violence but nothing too graphic, rude comments over weight, explicit language, sexual innuendos and but no actual smut.

Michael watches with a disapproving look as Trevor hangs up newspaper articles and images of their various dealings across town.

“T, do you have to hang it like it’s fuckin’ artwork?” Michael huffs, pointing at the paper on the upper left. “I feel like I’m comin’ too close to landing my ass in jail. That Lawrence guy named me for Christ’s sake — and it’s your fault!”

Trevor smirks. “Ah, come on, Mikey! It slipped out. Whats the big deal? We’ll be in a new town tomorrow.”

“The big deal is that I prefer not to have my name plastered on the evening news!”

“Relax,” Trevor rubs his hand up and down Michael’s tricep. “Wear it like a badge of honor. Your name is in the paper, and those idiots still have no idea who you are. You’re a fuckin’ legend!”

At that, Michael finally cracks a smile. “Yeah, I guess.”

“And you’re hot, too,” Trevor says while taping up the sticky note next to Michael’s picture, his smirk growing as he listens to the shorter man laugh beside him.

“Now that I knew already.”

“Don’t get cocky.”

Overplayed Christmas songs and the faint smell of gingerbread fill the house. Michael can barley make out the sound of Amanda griping to her father over his questions about her chosen profession and when she was going to “grow up.”

He knows he should be out there pretending to enjoy the family bickering and Christmas cheer, but he honestly feels like a fish out of water.

The family, the gift wrapping, the normalcy — it’s certainly better than any holiday he spent during his youth. Still, he can’t help but compare it to every year with his maniacal counterpart, Trevor.

“Mikey-boy, got those beers you were wanting,” Trevor says, dropping the six pack on to the motel bed. “I better be rewarded. It was hell out there.”

Michael glances over from his spot on the bed, his eyes immediately drawn to Trevor’s once-clean outfit that has now become disheveled and stained with dark red within the short time the man was gone. “The fuck happened?”

“This fucking family,” Trevor starts while stripping from his clothes, not bothering to warn Mike since it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. “All I did was tell the father to watch his fucking kids before they get hit by oncoming traffic.”

Michael, knowing there’s way more to the story than his partner in crime is telling him, shoots him a look. “Jesus Christ. Did you kill him in front of his kids?”

“What? No! God, M. Who do you think I am? I killed the kids first obviously since he clearly didn’t give a shit about them,” Trevor shrugs, pulling on a fresh pair of sweatpants.

Seeing Michael’s face pale, Trevor quickly continues. “I’m kidding! Sweet Jesus. I hit a deer, so I gutted him a little for meat. You’re welcome.”

Michael sighs softly, relieved that Trevor hasn’t done anything to prematurely set off alarm bells to local authorities for their next score. “Sorry, T. Just on edge, I think.”

“Come on,” Trevor grabs the beer pack and pulls Michael up by his hand, leading him over to their portable oven. “Let’s bake some cookies, probably ruin them since that’s our tradition, and then just watch one of those fruity fuckin’ movies you like.”

A knock on the door brings Michael out of his flashback, and a few seconds later, Amanda‘s head pops through the door, followed by her hands holding two decorated Christmas cookies.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Amanda asks, gesturing to the letter beneath his hand.

“Nothing, nothing,” He stands up, dropping the marker, vowing to finish the letter later and send it out in the morning. “I’m coming.”

He grabs the sugar cookie out of her hand and takes a bite as he follows her back into the living room. Somehow, the golden brown cookie with a soft center and a delicate balance of sweetness is no match for the dry and crumbly cookie sporting burnt edges and artificial flavors that he’s used to tasting every year with Trevor.

God, he misses him.

“How the hell did you even get into my office without security stopping you?”

Trevor looks up from his office chair at the Vanilla Unicorn to see Michael standing over him. “What?”

“This,” Michael drops the paper in front of the other man. “What does this mean, Trev? I thought we were over this shit.”

“First of all, Michael, I will decide when we are over it,” Trevor snaps. “Second — can’t a guy joke around anymore without there being some deeper, psychological reason for it?”

“With you? I think there’s always a deeper, psychological reason,” he grins. “But c’mon, how’d you get this in the studio?”

“I’m a seasoned robber, pork chop. Don’t you think I could get in without anyone knowing?”

“Uh, you’re more the type to be so loud and brash that everyone ends up knowing you’re there.”

Trevor shrugs, knowing his running buddy has some sort of point. “Alright, I told them we were married, and I needed to see you.”

Michael laughs, but his amusement is short lived when Trevor’s face stays earnest. “You didn’t.”

“I sure did, Mikey. And a few of those assholes weren’t very supportive, so you need to watch the company you keep, man.”

“Trevor! I work with those people! They all know I’m married to Amanda. What did they say? Were they shocked?”

“Not one soul was shocked,” Trevor huffs out a laugh. “Eighty percent of Vinewood is in the closet.”

Michael falters. “But … I’m not. I’m not —”

“I think we both know that’s not true, sugar.”

First dates. They were one hundred and ten percent first dates — or were they? What even is a date?

Longing looks, some sort of nerves, maybe a sprinkle of sexual tension for a lot of people — Christ. By that definition, he and Trevor had been on nothing but dates their whole lives with one another.

It’s not that Michael didn’t know there is something between them, but what that something is often eluded him.

He had miraculously talked Trevor into going to a Los Santos Panic game. Neither guy was a sports fanatic — Trevor choosing to forgo watching sports altogether for the most part because, in his words, “if I wanted to watch a bunch of guys touch balls, I’d just watch porn,” and Michael was undoubtedly more of a movie buff since most games only reminded him of what could have blossomed out of his high school football career.

Nonetheless, Michael indulged in a game or two — if not for the game itself, at least for the buttered popcorn and greasy hotdogs.

“You know that shit is bad for you, right? One day, I’m going to have to call the paramedics to haul your fat carcass out of the bed after you have a heart attack in your sleep.”

Michael rolls his eyes before halfheartedly giving Trevor a shove. “Ha, ha. Very funny, cocksucker.”

“It’s not a mean insult if it’s true, Mikey.”

Their next “date” is at Beachwalk Bistro near Vespucci Beach. Both men slipped into some unspoken agreement that they are delicately walking the line between friendship and more.

Michael fidgets with his napkin, glancing over at Trevor who seems uncharacteristically uneasy as well. The air crackles around them with an energy, a blend of nostalgic and unexplored feelings.

Michael clears his throat. “So, uh, how’s life?”

Trevor smirks, his eyes glistening with amusement. “How’s life? You mean since you last saw me yesterday?”

Michael gives a subtle sigh before changing the subject completely. “Amanda and I are getting divorced.”

At that, Trevor nods. “Yeah, Jimmy told me.”

A look of shock crosses Michael’s face, but before he can ask, the waiter comes over and interrupts them. They hastily place their orders before retreating into silence.

As the night unfolds, their conversation sticks — for the most part — around work, upcoming plans with Franklin and Lamar, and anything else but the emotions lingering beneath the surface. That doesn’t stop Trevor from brushing his hand against Michael’s while grabbing at his plate for a taste or Michael from taking an extra long glance at his best friend.

With plates emptied and stacked, they both leave the restaurant, choosing to make the short trek to Vespucci Beach and walk.

There is a hesitant pause before Trevor breaks the silence. “This wasn’t terrible, Mikey.”

“It was different.”

Trevor hums in agreement, a small smile on his lips. “Yeah, different. In a good way.”

Their eyes met, a shared understanding between them. The unspoken tension that’s been building since Trevor made his way back into Michael’s life gave way to a warmth that only hinted at the depth of their connection.

Michael reached out his hand and tentatively linked his fingers through Trevor’s, and the taller man reciprocated immediately by giving a subtle squeeze.

“We’ve been through a lot of fucked up shit, Trev,” Michael says, stopping along the water to look at Trevor. “I know we’ve worked through most of it by now, but I didn’t really expect things to turn out like this.”

“Life’s full of surprises, sugar.”

Their eyes meet, and suddenly one — or both — are leaning in to finally close the distance. The first brush of their lips ignits the metaphorical spark that has been smoldering for months.

As they pull back, neither man is quick to say anything. Instead, Michael just tugs on Trevor’s hand, and they head down the beach once again.

“So, Mikey. Kissing your best friend on the beach under the moonlight. A little cliche, even for you, don’t you think?”

Michael just grins and shakes his head. “What? You’ve never had a fantasy?”

“Well, there was one,” Trevor starts. “We kill a bunch of those bikers, dump their bodies in the river, then fuck in their van — or keep their bodies in the van … you know, if you’re into that.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Michael mutters. “Let’s just keep our thoughts to ourselves from now on.”

“Your loss.”

Yeah, they were definitely dates.

“You’re ‘embarrassed’ for us? You’re the one who spray-painted that in the first place!”

“I was trying to be loving,” Trevor huffs. “At least I didn’t take a picture of my meal like I’m a middle-aged white mom on Lifeinvader.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Michael says, running his hands through Trevor’s grown-out hair. “Make fun all you want. You wrote ‘Trevor plus Mikey’ on the wall. You love me.”

“Shut the fuck up before I tell Amanda about the time you wore her underwear.”

Michael points a finger at his boyfriend. “That was one god damn time, and it was only because you asked.”

Trevor laughs. “You looked pretty, sugar. Don’t worry.”

“You can’t avoid her forever, Mikey.”

Michael groans, his head resting in his hands as he lays on their shared bed. “Tracey saw the notes, T. She knows.”

“Well, we do live together now. I’m pretty sure she already knows.”

“No,” Michael drops his hands to meet Trevor’s eyes. “Christ. She knows what the notes said. How the fuck can I look her in the eyes now?”

Trevor’s face scrunches up in confusion. “You divorced her mom to shack up with her uncle. How the fuck could you look her in the eyes before?”

Michael tries to glare at him, but it doesn’t come off as menacing as years prior — it never does now. “I know you ain’t wrong, but you don’t have to say it.”

“She loves you. Stop worrying.”

“But —”

“‘No buts,” Trevor cuts him off, placing a kiss on the top of his head. “She just wants you happy. So stop moping like a sad sack of shit and come cuddle me.”

“Now who’s the one hanging shit like it’s art?”

Michael feels Trevor wrap his arms around him from behind and place a kiss on his neck. “What do you mean, T?”

“Has your memory deteriorated already? You used to hate when I’d pin up pictures of our various … activities.”

“That was different,” Michael links one of his hands with Trevor’s, who are still wrapped around his waist, and uses the other one to sort through more photos before landing on one. “Do you remember this night back in North Yankton?”

Trevor lets his gaze fall down to the photo, which shows a young Michael and Trevor sporting a buzz cut and long hair respectively. They’re standing in front of a fire, the soft glow from the flames highlighting their features. Trevor, who has one arm around the shorter man’s shoulders is flipping off the camera, and Michael is smirking up at Trevor like he just said something amusing before the flash went off.

“Sure do, pork chop,” Trevor says. “Think Brad took this one. More importantly, I couldn’t forget this night if I tried. Your questionable singing still haunts my nightmares.”

Michael chuckles, reaching for another photo. “I thought I sounded pretty good.”

“Keep dreaming,” Trevor unwraps his arms around Michael to look through the remaining photos. “Can I add stuff to this board too?”

“So long as it doesn’t scar anyone,” Michael jokes.

“No promises, Mikey.”

[k-evans-reads]

In Living Color

Chapter 17

Summary: When Natalie Marton, lead character designer for Buzz Lightyear, meets the voice of Buzz, Chris Evans, the sparks are undeniable. But when their work pushes them away from each other, both physically and emotionally, will the sheer differences between their worlds be enough to force them apart?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Pixar Animator OFC Natalie Marton

Word Count: 5,217

By: @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Warnings: Sexual content. 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI.

Previous | Main Masterlist | In Living Color Masterlist

December 31st, 2021

Chris watched Nat as she checked the temperature of the chicken, shutting the door of the oven quietly as Mark and Jamie boomed with laughter from behind them. The happy laughter in the room made Chris smile, his cheeks practically aching from how much he’d been laughing and smiling the past two days he’d been up in this cabin in the mountains of Washington. 

They’d spent Christmas on opposite coasts, with their own families back in their hometowns, before Chris, Dodger, Scott, and Scott’s partner flew to Washington to join Nat, Mark, Jamie, and Lauren at a ski town just east of Seattle, tucked away in a large rental in the snowy mountains. He’d missed Nat desperately over the holiday, despite only being separated for nearly two weeks. They’d made the decision together to spend the holiday apart, but it hadn’t made it any easier and instead had only made them a bit more attached to their phones than either anticipated that day. 

But here in Washington, surrounded by their closest group from California, they’d slipped seamlessly back together, evidenced by Chris smacking her ass as she walked by him to open another bottle of wine for everyone. He’d thought the action went unnoticed by the group in the kitchen, with Scott and Steve making a salad by the sink and Lauren handling the potatoes while Mark and Jamie sat at the island and prepped green beans, but a groan told him otherwise.  

“Are we really going to have to deal with this for the next three days?” Mark asked, rolling his eyes as he scowled at the couple. 

Chris’ brows furrowed as Nat smirked playfully at him, her hand tickling his side as she headed back over to the stove to help Lauren. “Deal with what?” Chris asked him. 

“You two being all over each other,” he clarified, waving a hand before he grabbed the pepper from the counter, grinding it over the vegetable. “I swear nobody would even be able to fit a piece of paper between you two!” 

But Nat didn’t miss a beat, even with her back turned and as she sprinkled rosemary on top of the potatoes. “Don’t be crabby just because you don’t have a new boyfriend yet,” she told him, faux-dismissively.  

Scott grinned from where they were near the large window overlooking the snow-covered trees outside, telling the group, “We’re actually spoiled by Chris being… Chris, because that means he can’t really be into PDA when we go out and do things so it saves us.” 

Jamie chuckled as he shook his head, getting up to bring the dish of green beans over to the oven. “Yeah, and at our game nights Nat is too busy trying to make up some ridiculous rule or throwing game pieces at everyone and Chris is busy trying to talk shit about everyone for them to even think about getting handsy,” he supplied, dodging a playful shove from Nat. 

Steve glanced over his shoulder as he washed his hands, pointing out, “Well they’re making up for it now.” 

“Okay in my defense, I haven’t gotten my girl in almost two weeks! Give me a fuckin’ break!” Chris told the group, holding his hands up defensively, but he smiled as the rest of the group laughed. 

Nat turned as Lauren put the potatoes and green beans into the oven, leaning the small of her back against the countertop as she crossed her arms over her chest and told the group, “And Chris is going to be ditching me come February.” 

Chris rolled his eyes, reminding her, “It’s called filming, not ditching.” 

But Nat smirked at him, shrugging her shoulders. “Same thing,” she murmured, laughing as he snaked an arm out to tickle her side. 

“You know, after how many times you ate it on the mountain today, I would have thought it’d knock the sass out of you,” he murmured, his hands stopping as Nat leaned against his side with a happy sigh just before she slipped out of his grasp to check the chicken again.

Jamie frowned, his eyes wide as he seriously told Chris, “Nothing can knock the sass out of her, trust me, we’ve seen her wipe out way worse than today.” 

Recalling that very first day that Nat had crashed into his life he chimed in, “That’s true, I do seem to remember meeting Nat for the first time seeing her slamming into a glass door.” 

He didn’t even have to see Nat as she bent over the oven to know she was rolling her eyes while defending,“I was trying to hurry and didn’t notice-” 

But Chris couldn’t help but cut her off with a playful smirk, asking, “Notice that big door right in front of you?” 

“You know what, Evans?” Nat started with a smirk, pointing the spatula in her hand at him, “If you keep this up, you’re sleeping alone tonight.” 

“By midnight you’ll be freezing and come lay on top of me so I’m not worried,” Chris shrugged with a soft laugh, moving to sit down on one of the barstools at the island.

“I still think my first meeting with Nat was more memorable,” Scott insisted as he washed his hands, turning the faucet off before turning around as he dried his hands. “I got to meet her while she stuck her head out the window of her apartment yelling that she was locked in.” 

Mark let out a loud laugh from next to him at the counter, shaking his head and insisting, “Honestly, that’s not even anything to bat an eye at. When you know Nat as long as we have, chaos is just something you come to expect.” 

“How did you all meet, anyway?” Chris piped up as he looked between the trio. Over the past almost year, he’d come to see just how close the three of them, as well as Lauren and their children were. He knew that they’d all been friends for so long and had become more like family than friends which is something he understood well, knowing just how bonded he was to some of the people in his life that he’d grown up with but Chris finally vocalized, “I think in all this time I’ve never actually heard exactly how other than you all worked together.” 

A soft laugh echoed from Lauren as she peeked in the oven to check on the food before looking over her shoulder, “Honestly Chris, I don’t know that you should get them going. You should know by now that these three have their own little language we’ll never be able to decipher.” 

A soft smile crossed his face as he looked over at Nat, running a hand through her curly hair as she noted, “It’s been so long that I don't think I even remember the first time that I met Mark.” 

“Oh I do,” Mark was adamant as he pulled everyone’s attention to him, his hands resting on the counter as he revealed, “I was helping with the onboarding orientation for the new hires. How old were you? Like early or mid 20’s?” 

Nat’s brows furrowed as she tried to recall exactly when it was, finally remembering, “I was 22 so you were 27.” 

Mark nodded, continuing the story and telling everyone, “Yeah, so anyway I’m sitting at this orientation with probably thirty or so people and in comes this curly-headed tornado who sat down right next to me and she introduced herself, told me that she thought we were going to be friends and then asked me to watch her stuff while she went to the bathroom,” he paused, shaking his head with a grin. “But I guess Nat was right because we did become friends almost immediately.” 

“Jamie, how did you get hooked up with the gruesome twosome?” Chris asked, nodding his head towards the other man in the room with a curious look on his face. 

Jamie smirked, glancing at Nat and Mark with a knowing look in his eyes. “Well I was in a different department but I had met Mark here and there but we hadn’t talked a lot. But one day on my lunch break I walked through the Pixar campus and I saw this girl sitting on a bench unzipping her backpack,” he quieted down as Mark and Nat began laughing, a smirk on his lips while Scott, Steve, and Chris’ faces turned to confusion. “I was just absentmindedly watching and saw a little squirrel hop out of her backpack and run across the grass and up into a tree.” 

Chris’ jaw dropped and his eyes widened in shock, and he turned to Nat as he incredulously asked, “You had a fucking squirrel in your backpack?!” 

“My thoughts exactly,” Jamie murmured as he sat back in the barstool, smirking at the chaos that story caused. 

Nat held her hands up in defense, waiting until the room quieted down to speak. “Okay it actually makes sense though because I saw a little squirrel in the parking garage and I was afraid he’d get killed so I just dumped some of my nuts into my backpack to lure him and then zipped it up when he climbed in and took him out to where the trees were,” she told them, then paused and shrugged. “That seems very normal to me.” 

Chris rolled his eyes as she finished speaking, insisting, “Only you would think that it’s normal to lure a squirrel into a backpack to get it to safety.” 

As the timers began beeping, Lauren grabbed oven mitts and opened the oven to pull each dish out while Nat grabbed the meat thermometer. “That’s not even the part that surprised me about that story. The part that shocked me was that Jamie chose to be friends with her after that!” Lauren laughed, waiting until Nat nodded to pull the dish of the chicken out as well. 

“I just remember making eye contact with her and laughing so hard, then Nat ran over to give me that same crazy explanation and that was that,” Jamie chuckled, grabbing the bottle of wine and salad before he headed to the table. 

“Okay Jamie wins for the most memorable first meeting with Nat,” Scott laughed as he looked around the group, helping carry food over. 

But before the conversation could roll on, Chris put a hand out as he said, “Wait, we haven’t heard Lauren’s yet!” 

“Well Jamie and I’ve been married for five years so these hooligans had already been thick as thieves for a long time,” Lauren snickered as she looked at the three outgoing artists who were bonded so tightly. She accepted Chris’ help gratefully, handing him an oven mitt so he could carry the potatoes as they headed to the table “But my first time meeting Mark and Nat was when Jamie brought me out with them one night and we walked in and Jamie pointed out that his friends were the two drunk people singing a karaoke duet up on stage.” 

At the thought of the memory, Nat hunched over behind her chair with her loud hysterical laughter, dark curls shaking as she pushed out through her adorable laughter, “The worst part is that we actually weren’t even drunk!” 

Mark was laughing just as hard, reaching a hand to point at Nat from across the table as they all sat down and he kept cracking up, arguing, “No, the worst part is that it wasn’t karaoke night!” 

With the lighthearted atmosphere in the room, Chris slipped into the empty chair next to Nat and snapped his fingers and commented with a smile, “Damn I really did think my first meeting with her was special.”  

“Yours doesn’t even make the top ten that I can think of,” Jamie shook his head. 

“It might not be the most embarrassing first meeting I’ve had, but it certainly is the most special,” Chris felt his heart soften as Nat said those words, looking at him with nothing but love in her eyes, holding his gaze for a long moment before tipping her head back as she mused, “God, I can’t believe how long it’s been since that first orientation at Pixar. I remember feeling like I was going to throw up because I was so nervous.” 

“I think I might have,” Mark laughed before he looked at his two longtime friends, asking, “Can you believe how long it’s been since we all started?” 

“I can’t believe all three of us are still there,” Jamie noted, leaning down to pet Dodger who was walking around their feet. “Although I’m pretty sure they’re going to have Nat chained to her desk from here on out so it’s not surprising she’s stuck there.” 

Unsure of the meaning behind his words, Chris tilted his head and asked, “What does that mean?” 

“Right before Christmas they assigned me to my next film already,” Nat nearly groaned as she leaned back in her chair, informing him, “I’m starting on Inside Out 2 right when we all get back from the holidays.” 

Steve piped up, wondering, “Is Lightyear even done?” 

Chris was curious, looking at Nat as she let out a soft sigh, “I’ll be fully done with it in February so I have to work on both for the next month.” 

His brows furrowed as he heard her weary words, remembering their conversation from earlier in the month as he pointed out, “That sounds kind of rough, Nattie.” 

But Nat could only shrug before Mark launched into explaining, “Nat’s just too good that they don’t ever give her a break. She always goes from one thing right into the next,” with a chuckle before he paused to serve Lauren some of the salad. “Once she showed how great she did as lead character designer for Disgust in Inside Out, they’ve just been putting her on as much as they can.” 

While grabbing her glass of wine, Nat muttered, “Apparently they just really want me to have no life ever.” 

Not wasting a chance to tease his friend, Jamie wondered, “Sorry did you ever have one? This is news to me.” 

Not missing a beat, Nat smiled at him and told him, “You can just fuck off.” 

Chris just shrugged before leaning over to bump his shoulder against hers, “After your incredible art show, I think you’re going to have to tell Pixar you can’t work as much because you’re too busy becoming a famous painter.” 

Nat shrugged, her voice quiet as she admitted to not only him, but the group as well, “With the way my schedule is going to be coming up, I’ll be lucky if I even have time to think about painting, let alone do it.” 

Chris frowned at her words and watched as Nat pushed aside her feelings and passed him the potatoes before she dug into her dinner, but throughout the evening, the thoughts lingered in his mind as they ate dinner, cleaned up, then watched a movie with everyone, celebrating with champagne as they rang in the New Year before they all trudged off to their bedrooms in the rental home.

Chris and Nat headed down to the ground floor and to the back corner, closing the door behind them with yawns and sore muscles from the long day on the slopes. The bed was inviting and empty, thanks to Dodger deciding to spend the night with Scott and Steve upstairs, and Chris flopped down on it with a sigh as Nat pulled on one of his old sweatshirts.

“Ugh, I’m so sore! Why in the world did I let you and Scott talk me into going down that huge hill?” She complained quietly, pulling her curly hair up into a messy bun before she crossed the short distance of the room to lay down on the bed with a groan. 

“That huge hill? You mean the one that the group of kids passed you on?” 

“Yeah that one,” she yawned, eyes softening as she sat up against the fluffy pillows. 

“I was trying to show you how to do it!” Chris laughed, a hand coming up to run through his hair as he plugged his phone in and set it down on the nightstand. 

Nat pulled the fuzzy blanket that was folded at the foot of the bed up tucking it around her lanky frame as she rolled her eyes and reminded him, “Yeah, while laughing at me!” 

“Well you looked pretty funny, babe,” he murmured, his hand coming to rest over the blanket on top of her knee, squeezing her leg reassuringly. 

She rolled her eyes but the fond smile playing across her lips betrayed her as she muttered, “Nice to know my boyfriend is so supportive of me.” 

“I’m supportive through my laughter,” he assured her with a grin, smirking as she shoved his shoulder lightly. He laid down on the bed fully and rolled onto his side, facing her as his voice dropped and he confessed,  “I know we’ve only been here a few days, but this has been so great. I’ve really loved this trip.” 

“Me too,” Nat agreed, her voice quiet and soft. “I really missed you over Christmas.” 

“I missed you too, Nattie. It just didn’t feel right without you,” he sighed. He thought it wouldn’t have been a big deal, being separated over the holiday. He assumed the chaos of the big family get-togethers would’ve been enough distractions for them both, but their nearly-constant contact over text and a couple phone calls throughout the day proved otherwise. It hurt more being apart than it would’ve been for him to suck it up and hop on a flight to be with her before the holidays, but he had not expected it. Most of his previous relationships had little to no expectation, especially less than a year in, when it came to spending Christmas together or alone with their families, but both he and Nat had their own reasons to be home. He was gearing up for what seemed to be a long year of work ahead both in Atlanta and abroad, with three projects and two press tours to handle, and Nat, to see her family, baby Jack, and spend time with them alone. 

But he’d missed her. He’d ached to be there with her, to have her by his side as he watched his Ma open up her gifts from everyone, to see Dodger bouncing around with his niece and nephews as they enjoyed the chaos of the morning. He wanted nothing more than to have her by his side, and he wasn’t surprised when he learned a few hours later that Nat was struggling with the same thing. That knowledge both helped and stung a little, but it built up the anticipation even more for their New Years getaway with the group in Washington, to the point that he was practically vibrating as he stepped off the charter flight to see her waiting in a rental car with Mark, Jamie, and Lauren at the airfield. 

Nat gave him a half-smile as her voice softly told him, “We’re going to have to get used to that with the year we have coming up.”

“I guess so,” he sighed, giving her a frown in return as his mind began racing with all he knew was happening that year. He was already committed to those three projects, involving long shoots in Atlanta, across the country from Nat. He knew that once work picked up post-pandemic that it would test them, but it certainly happened a lot quicker than he realized. The year flew by thanks to Nat’s role in his life, making him look forward to everyday for a new reason that he hadn’t anticipated this time last year. But with the reality being that it was about to be 2022, he realized just how long they’d been side by side, nearly inseparable for almost ten and a half months now. “I was going to ask you if you might be able to come out to Atlanta at all while I’m filming Ghosted but from what you said tonight, it sounds like you’re going to be really busy.” 

“Yeah I found out about Inside Out 2 right before Christmas break and I wanted to wait to tell you until I could see you in-person,” she sighed, frowning slightly at herself. Her hand landed on top of his where it was resting on her knee, squeezing it gently before he flipped his hand over and laced her fingers through his own, all without taking his eyes off of hers. “I was really hoping I would have a more relaxed January so we could spend a lot of time together before you leave but now I’m going to be even busier having to juggle both projects.” 

“It’s alright, baby. We’ll still get to spend time together,” he assured her, before he remembered what was on his calendar in early February and he frowned nervously. “Are you going to be able to get away to Palm Springs in February?” 

“That was on the schedule before I was assigned so I still get that time off,” Nat reassured, smiling faintly at the mention of that long weekend away. He knew what she was imagining – just them, phones off, no distractions, one last quiet weekend before the chaos of the year truly began. “I’m sure those couple weeks before I’m going to be swamped though.” 

Chris chuckled, his thumb moving back and forth mindlessly over the soft skin on the back of her hand. “I have a feeling I’ll be bringing you a lot of comfort food for lunch,” he laughed. 

“Chris, I think you should go home for a while in January,” Nat sighed, surprising him with those words. He thought they were pretty in sync, wanting to soak up any time they could before chaos broke loose and they had forced distance between them, but to hear that she didn’t want him out there with her made him – admittedly – nervous and a bit scared. “You know I love to be with you, but I know you’re going to need some time to recharge and be home for a bit before everything. And honestly, I think having you in LA that whole time would make my schedule worse because I’d feel so bad that I’m working so much and you’re there.” 

He nodded, understanding where she was coming from, but also trying to push aside those selfish feelings of even just wanting to be around her. “I want to spend as much time with you as I can, but I do think spending some time at home would be nice,” he finally began, shrugging half-heartedly. “I might head back home once you get busier but we can figure all of that out once we’re back in LA next week.” 

“Having been so busy, and knowing how busy both of us will be this next year, it feels so nice to have this time here. It feels so good to just not have to worry about any of it for a while,” she admitted, the soft happy look on her face warming Chris from the inside out. 

“It really does,” he agreed easily, his hand tightening its grasp on hers. A year ago, he hadn’t even met Nattie yet. He was at home in Massachusetts, where he’d spent the majority of 2020, doing all his work through Zoom and email and riding out the pandemic in his bubble. But now? He was happy. He was sharing his life with someone, someone he couldn’t imagine a future without, and he was excited for what this year could bring for them. “I’m so happy I get to start this new year with you, Nattie. I can’t believe that this time last year I hadn’t even met you yet.” 

“It’s weird to think that one year ago we hadn’t met and this year is so different,” she laughed, arching an eyebrow before she asked, “I wonder what next New Year’s will be like?” 

And at the mention of that, Chris couldn’t help but let his mind wander. He didn’t know what it would be like, his brain for a moment flickering to the worst possible thought as he wondered if there was a possibility they might not be together. But just as quickly as that thought came, it left, knowing deep in his heart that Nat was it for him. He knew just how deep his love for her ran and everything in his brain was looking at their relationship through the lens of them being together forever. 

He wanted everything with her. He wanted to go to bed every night next to her. Have dinner with her every night. Laugh at the same stupid jokes with her day after day. Celebrate holidays together and buy birthday gifts for their nieces and nephews. What it would be like to see Nat holding their own baby in her arms. Take their daughter or son for their first day of preschool. Come home to Nat ruining another one of his tee shirts as she painted furiously by the big windows in their home. He wanted every single moment of his life to be shared with her and he hoped that somehow next New Year’s, they’d be even closer than they were right now. 

“I don’t know what it’ll be like next year, Nattie, but I know I’ll still be so in love with you,” he murmured, his mind racing with snippets of what their future could look like. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.” 

“That’s what I’ve been saying to myself for months,” Nat chuckled, but her smile turned into a smirk as she turned to face Chris, her legs folded underneath her as she looked down at him. “How I managed to have you in my life is something I’ll never understand but I’m not going to question it. I’m so excited for this year because of knowing i’ll have you.” 

Chris pushed himself up, his hand running up and down Nat’s arm as he honestly told her, “I love you, Nattie. I love you more than I knew was possible.” 

“I love you too, baby,” she breathed, pausing to search his eyes. “You’re truly my best friend.” 

The softness in her voice and tears that were glistening in Nat’s eyes showed Chris just how honest her words were. Just as they always did, Nat’s words went straight to his heart, treasuring the fact that she considered him her best friend, because he knew that in every sense of the word, she was his. They could laugh, tease and joke around with each other, but then could switch on a dime to having the deepest and most vulnerable conversation, knowing their feelings were safe with the other person. Chris knew that Nat was always supportive of him, telling him the hard truth when he needed to hear it or helping him see his own faults in things, while validating his feelings in other moments. She helped him grow, pushed him to be better, and made him feel more loved than he ever had felt. 

Nat loved him just for him and nothing was more beautiful than that. 

Their arms came to snake around one another, pressing their bodies against each other’s warmth as their lips connected in the dim room. Chris just needed this. He needed this physical connection with her, unable to hold his deep feelings for her in and judging by the way she kissed him back, Nat felt the same exact thing. He wanted to hold her close, feeling her heartbeat as they kissed, Chris so wrapped up in the fact that Nat was his and he was her. 

There was so much love and tenderness in the air as they both slowly peeled each other out of their clothes, their warm bodies pressed together without a single inch of space between them. Chris swore it was like heaven getting to have Nattie in his arms, loving her in both words and actions and having that love returned to him. It certainly wasn’t the first time Chris had been in love, having had the opportunity to have some beautiful relationships in the past, but it had never been like this and he knew there would never be anything like this again. Nat was his world and he couldn’t imagine it any other way. 

A low moan erupted from Nat’s lips, echoing in his ear when he finally pushed inside of her, giving them each that connection they’d been longing for. Nat’s arms were wrapped around his waist, pulling him down and deeper into her with each slow and sweet snap of his hips. But Chris wasn’t in a hurry, just taking his time peppering her lips with kisses and showing her with his loving words in between each kiss. Nat’s eyes had been squeezed shut, drinking in every bit of this moment, but when those long eyelashes of hers fluttered open and looked at him with such emotion and tenderness, he felt his knees going weak at just the sight knowing that this sensitive, beautiful, kindhearted artist was looking at him that way and nobody else. 

His emotions for her were so pure and true that seeing this woman that he loved so deeply underneath him and hearing her gasp and moan while she gripped his shoulders was just too much for him to be able to handle. Chris could feel himself getting close, each thrust of his hips into her warmth bringing him closer and closer and he could tell by the way Nat was panting that she was barely hanging on too. He brought a hand down between them, rubbing his thumb against that bundle of nerves that had Nat crying out loudly as her fingertips dug into his shoulders and her walls squeezed him like a vice. 

With one more drag back against her velvety walls and push back in, Chris was groaning with pleasure into the crook of her neck as he emptied himself inside her. But as good as that high felt, it was this moment that he loved almost more than anything. This moment of holding each other close, still tucked inside her as they lazily kissed and soaked in the feeling of just being fully connected in every way. 

Nat’s hand ran up and down Chris’ bare back, nails dancing along the skin lightly, causing goosebumps to pop up in her wake. He leaned his forehead against her collarbone and kissed the skin there, wanting nothing more than to just stay here with her forever, protect her as best as he could, and get to step into their future, side-by-side, together. He wanted nothing more than to grow old with her, raise a couple kids, build a life and a home. And as he gently pulled out of her, cleaned them up, and climbed back into bed next to her, pulling her against him as she drifted asleep, he couldn’t help but think, once again, about how much this year flew by. With each passing day, their anniversary approached, and it put them one step closer to forever. 

A/N: Thank you so much for reading!

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Lost & Found - Chapter Twenty Two.

Well, guys, here it is. Sorry it's a few days late, but as you all know I have so much going in my life at the moment, but I made an effort to get this to you timely, the final chapter of our story. Thank you all for your continued readership, you honestly mean the world to me :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty One

Words - 3,533

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse.

“My stomach is hungry, but I’m not.” Turning to look at him, she pulled a half-scrunched face. “Is that weird?” 

“Can’t relate. Whenever my belly is demanding I feed it, I gotta do it. You know how hangry I get.”  

He made quite the valid point. Guero was like a bear emerging from hibernation when in need of food; very much motivated towards eating, and somewhat aggressive if couldn’t get his hands on what he required. “Mother fucking Mary, I do!”  

Her giggle brought a little light to her face that had been all but extinguished in the time they’d lain on the bed, Emma battling with her emotions surrounding the fact that Rocco was no more. Just then, her phone beeped, Guero passing it to her as she sat up, pressing the message icon, her heart skipping a beat.  

‘Will call you soon, darling. So relieved you’re alright. It’s all over now. Love you all the world. Mom xxx’ 

Her bottom lip wobbled, her throat pinching tight. “Oh my god.” She got that Marie was perhaps a little too distracted at present, having to play the part of the frantic wife whose husband was missing, explaining it to the kids and her family, so calling might have been difficult. A text was enough, though. It also showed Vincent’s intentions clearly. He was living up to his promises.  

“As far as mafia bosses go, he seems pretty fair,” Guero remarked, after she’d shared those thoughts with him. “I know he’s only been at the helm for like, a couple hours, but yeah. At least we don’t have to be doing nothing for him we don’t wanna be.” He paused to let her speak, but her words were halted when his stomach let out a very audible growl.  

“Somebody needs feeding,” she commented, arching an eyebrow as they both shared soft laughter. 

“Yeah, I guess I do.” 

Shifting herself up, she kissed his chest, reaching to stroke his face. “I’ll go put that pizza in the oven. Just because I don’t feel like eating, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. I can always nibble at a slice, if you don’t inhale the entire thing in three minutes.” 

Getting up, he followed her through to the kitchen. “How well my woman knows me.” 

While Emma went about jazzing up the frozen pizza with a little extra in the way of meat, cheese and olives, Guero stood and observed, handing her a tequila shot she sank in one. 

“Keep ‘em coming, baby.”  

He grinned. “As I will with you as soon as I’ve filled my stomach. If you want me to, that is?” He was mindful that perhaps sexual gymnastics might not be too high on her list of priorities.  

Leaning to kiss him, she gave his cheek a playful nibble. “it’ll be the perfect thing to take my mind off of it all.”  

It proved to be perfect for just that, Emma falling asleep soon after she’d been thoroughly ploughed into the mattress. In the coming days, though, it all whirled around her head like a small tornado, trying to find her balance and return to normal, yet one thing hung over her like a fog. She hadn’t heard back from Marie.  

Two days passed, Emma feeling confused and hurt, throwing herself into her work to deal with what she assumed to be some kind of rejection, venting all to Lee.  

“I wouldn’t worry, sunshine,” her friend began, handing her a can of lubricant to assist in loosening a rusted exhaust clamp. “She’s probably got a lot on, liaising with the police, reporting Rocco as a missing person, all the while dealing with the fact that he actually fuckin’ ain’t missing at all. I bet she’s had a lotta emotions to process, just like you have.”  

Lee’s words made a lot of sense, Emma realising that perhaps it was a little selfish given the circumstances, for her to expect Marie’s immediate attention when she too had so much to process in the aftermath. “I think you’re right, yeah. I’ll give her time on it.”  

Time. It was only natural that Marie needed some, she assumed, kicking herself a little for thinking selfishly. Of course, she had much to deal with and just because she wasn’t at the epicentre of it didn’t mean she cared any less. “You’re thirty, a grown woman. You can deal with your mom not calling you right away.” she thought to herself while returning to her work. 

Come the following afternoon, though, Emma discovered that time moved a lot quicker than she’d envisioned it would, seeing a large, white vehicle driving slowly through the yard, coming to a stop in the space between the clubhouse and the workshop. When the door opened, she could barely believe her eyes. There, looking way too glamorous for her surroundings, stood the one person her heart had ached for since her escape. 

She should have known the woman who folded her loving wings around her for nineteen years would never abandon her, now she could safely find a way back to her again. 

“Mom?” She could scarcely believe it, but there she was. There was the woman who had loved her and tried so valiantly to keep her safe all those years. Pulling off her gloves, she shot out from the workshop, running with tears pooling her eyes towards the loving, open arms that awaited her. “Mom!” Reaching out, she flung her arms around her, Marie clasping her tight, breathing in her scent, sobbing hard into her hair with relief.  

Even the most hardened of men who had exited the clubhouse to witness the scene felt their throats pinch, watching the women reconnect, the bond they had incredible. It was borne of love and loyalty, victims of similar circumstance and because of such, perhaps even stronger than that of DNA and blood.  

“Emsy, oh my god. Oh, I missed you so, so much!” Marie cried, stroking her hair, holding her in a tight embrace. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you were gonna call! Are the kids with you?” she gasped, Marie rocking her in her arms, pulling back a little to look at her.  

“No, I couldn’t take them out of school, so they’re with friends. And I was gonna call, but it didn’t seem enough. Besides, had to show my face in the interests of looking concerned about my husband going missing out here. Nobody needs to know it was my daughter who I really came to see.”  

Emma’s bottom lip quivered, Marie smoothing her hair and clutching her close again, soothing her as she began to sob. “Love you all the world, my darling. It’s over now, baby girl. All over. Shhh, it’s alright.”  

“I feel... I... so much guilt, and I don’t feel like I should be relieved... and I,” she gasped, her chest heaving with the force of her sobs, Marie soothing her. “Mom, I can’t... I don’t... I...” 

“Shhhh, my darling. You’re losing it a little, deep breaths, come on.” She began to breathe in deeply, holding Emma’s eye contact, watching as she mirrored her and began to calm. It was an exercise she’d done with her since she was ten, to calm her panic attacks as a result of what Rocco routinely inflicted on her. “You wanna go someplace to talk, just you and me?”  

“Um, yeah. I gotta check with Lee first. And, well, there’s somebody I want you to meet.” Turning to the clubhouse, she smiled, beckoning with her hand. Guero walked over, returning the wide smile Marie greeted him with. God, Rocco had really been punching. She was in her early fifties, but still an absolute knockout. “Mom, this is my boyfriend, Guero.” 

“Oh, what a nice name,” Marie began, opening her arms. “I’m a hugger, you gotta bring it in, mister!”  

He laughed softly, obliging. “Good to meet you at last, Marie. She’s missed the hell outta you, you know.” 

“Very mutual! But mother Mary, I was so relieved she was safe. So, you been looking after her, huh?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, wrapping an arm around Emma. “Always will, too.”  

Her smile was fond, reaching an elegantly manicured hand to stroke his cheek. “Mind if I steal her a while? I think we need to reconnect.” 

He shrugged, shaking his head. “No problem.” Emma kissed him, going over to Lee to both clear it with her, and introduce her mother and best friend, Lee a little stiff at being hugged, but polite all the same.  

They headed off in the rented white SUV, Marie turning the air con back up to full, bemoaning the heat.  

“Mom, this is nothing. You should try a summer here, holy Christ, it’s like hellfire!”  

Marie smiled, turning the car around to drive back out. “Remember that summer when you were thirteen, and Rocco had gone away to Atlantic City for a long weekend? You turned into a prune from the amount you were in the pool.”  

The memory warmed her, much like the sun had upon that beautiful July day, Emma remembering the taste of freedom as she gave Marie directions. “Left here. And yeah, yeah I remember it. You always tried so hard to give me little pieces of normalcy, in a situation that was anything but.” 

“Wish I could have done more, darling.” The sad smile widened when Emma reached to squeeze her arm, Marie’s hand covering it in a soft clasp, continuing through the streets until they reached the coffee shop. Parking the rental car up, they walked down to the location, Marie going in while Emma took a table outside.  

When she returned, she sat in silence for a few moments, tears filling her eyes as she reached to stroke her face in her hands. “Jesus and all the saints, look at you, my girl,” she gasped softly, marvelling at how well her daughter looked. “All tanned and happy, and these tattoos! My god! Are you going to have your entire arms covered, or just to the elbows?” 

She shrugged softly, turning her arm so Marie could examine the underside. “I’m not sure yet. I was considering getting something across my upper back, because I’ve been bitten by the tattoo bug well and truly. I know you always hated them, so I expect to get an earful of protesting.”  

Her eyes were kind, shaking her head softly. “Nope, Emsy. It’s your body, you do to it as you please. Just because it isn’t my thing, it doesn’t mean it can’t be yours, baby. Besides, they really suit you. Tell me about them, what’s this tree lady looking one here all about?” 

“She’s a dryad.” Emma began, before explaining to her all about the mythology behind it, Marie listening with interest. All the way through, she marvelled to herself at just how alight Emma looked, how she was seeing so much of her character sparked into life, the person she only ever revealed when it was the two of them alone.  

As for Emma, she was revealing the details of her job when suddenly, her voice quivered and she paused. “I’m sorry, I just... I can’t believe we’re back together. I thought I’d never see you again, and you’re right here. I love you, mom.” 

Marie fanned her face, taking a deep breath as her eyes swam with tears. “Love you too, Emsy. I can’t believe it either, darling girl. Look at us. We’re free.”  

“What’s your plan, going forward?” she asked, composing herself, taking a big sip of her coffee.  

Marie widened her eyes a little, pushing the crumbs from the brownie she’d eaten into a small pile upon the plate before her. “Play the part of the heartbroken widow after they find his remains, head back to New York, and put that damned prison he kept us in straight on the market. Too many memories, none of which I want to keep. It’s time to start afresh for us all, isn’t it?” 

Indeed, it was. In the months that followed, the plan devised by Vincent and the club ran its course with perfection, nobody any the wiser that Rocco Lombardi hadn’t been mauled by a bear after the scant pieces of his remains were recovered within the forest. With him gone, Emma was able to exist as a person, Marie was able to move on with her life, a life that included leaving New York behind for a fresh start.  

There was also one little part, or rather now not so little, that Emma could finally reconnect with, too.  

Driving up the tree lined street, Emma’s memory of the place bloomed into full colour, the memories from her childhood all coming back to her. She recognised the houses, some different, some exactly the same, her face breaking into full joy at seeing the huge guy who looked like a quarterback standing outside of the one that definitely hadn’t changed much.  

He looked just like their dad had at twenty-seven. 

Guero had literally only just braked when she flung the door open, jumping from the car and running up the bank of grass outside her grandparents' home, Dylan covering the ground just as quickly, his arms wide. It was an embrace twenty years in the coming, the siblings overjoyed to see one another again after so long, the emotions flooding out as they held one another, laughing and crying.  

“Oh my god, oh my god, look at you!” she cried, holding his face in her hands, stroking his tears with her thumbs. “You look just like dad.” 

He nodded, pulling her close again. “And you look just like mom.” Their hug was near unbreakable, Guero standing back and letting them reunite, leaning against the rental car with a smile. “Gran’s just getting her shoes on.” he then added, turning to see his tiny grandmother ambling as fast as she could, Emma sobbing as Bea held her arms wide.  

“Oh, sweetie pie!” she gasped, Emma falling into her soft hug with a sob. “I never thought I’d live to see the day! Welcome home, welcome home. Heavens, we missed you so much!”  

Dylan moved to assist their grandpa, Wilf waving his hand as he struck his walking cane into the ground. “Ahh, with your fussing, boy! I’m fine!” Reaching Emma, he suddenly stood straighter than his sore back had allowed him to in years, holding his arm out. “Give me some cuddles, babe. God, I missed ya!”  

Snuggling against her grandpa’s shoulder, she wept all over again, his lips pressing a kiss on her forehead. “We got her back, at last we got our gal home. I just wish your mom and pop could be here to see it, too.”  

All four of them stood in a loving huddle for what felt like a very long time, Emma finally calling Guero over to introduce him, where he was embraced just as warmly. They went inside, her grandpa immediately picking up his phone.  

“Family photo time! Now, where in the heck did I put my selfie stick?” He began to rummage, her grandmother rolling her eyes. “Bea! Where’d ya put it?” 

“He’s found Instagram and decided it’s his thing,” she explained, moving to reach behind the couch cushions and retrieve the errant selfie stick. “And he even does those tic-tac videos!” 

“That’s Tik Tok, gran,” Dylan softly corrected, giving Emma a nudge with his elbow. 

“Bah! I don’t know all this new aged, newfangled internet stuff! Disney Plus is about as up to date as I like to get. Now, everybody get in, come on, Guero, you too!”  

Five smiling faces were captured, a moment in time none of them would forget, a family reunited and joined by the person who had found the little lost bird, eventually returning her to the flock from where she’d came so many years before.  

The flock that now surrounded Emma was made up of three different groups, all of them her family, one born into, one taken into, and one found. Merging them was something she looked forward to, but with a little apprehension when introducing her family to the woman she called mom.  

Marie’s move from east to west coast had not been an easy decision to make, but with her only sister already out there and her parents sadly both passed, she had very little to remain on Staten Island for. She was also long done with the stigma of being a now deceased mafia bosses’ wife following her around. It was time for a change. 

It meant her children leaving the only place they’d called home and their friends behind, but her eldest was quick to remind her just how fast children adjust. Getting to run into the arms of the girl they’d thought to be their nanny, who Marie now said they should think of as their big sister definitely helped their relocation, though, when Emma met them at the airport upon their arrival.  

It would be a further three months before Emma’s flock all came together, Marie wanting to throw a housewarming dinner, inviting everyone she was close to from the club, as well as her grandparents and Dylan, plus his new girlfriend. Having explained everything that had happened to her, her family were not in the dark over the bond she and Marie had formed, yet nerves still riddled her as she paced the lounge area of the spacious Orange County abode, Guero right behind her, rubbing tension from her shoulders. 

“Why you bugging?”  

She halted, turning to rub her hands over his smooth arms. “I don’t know, I really don’t! I mean, gran and grandpa were fine about it all, Dylan too when I explained it all to them. I guess I’m just nervous about calling her mom in front of them, don’t wanna upset them or make them think I’ve forgotten Cassie mom when I never will.”  

It had been an emotional moment, back when Dylan had driven them out to the cemetery in Spokane so Emma could visit their parent’s final resting place, the siblings cuddling one another tightly as the elder had cried for all she’d lost.  

Guero was just about to reassure her that he didn’t think that would be the case at all when a call came from the front door, Emma seeing Marie moving to greet her guests in the form of her grandparents themselves. Walking over to do the same, she was presented with a truly heartwarming sight.  

“Beatrice, Wilfred, welcome to my home. I’m so delighted to have you both here,” Marie spoke cordially, offering her hand. Immediately, Bea shook her head. A nervous lump rose in Emma’s throat, for all of two seconds. 

“No, sweetie pie. We’re family, and family hug.” She watched Marie sink happily into the offered embrace looking like she was breathing a sigh of relief, her gran continuing. “Thank you for looking after our precious gal, doing what you could for her, being a mother to her. I’m so sorry for everything you went through because of that man, but I am so grateful to you for trying to make it better for Emma while she was there.”  

“Of course, of course,” Marie tremored, a million memories flashing through her mind’s eye. Secret cuddles, secret gifts, secret cake, secret love. She no longer had to hide any of it.  

Wilf beamed, opening his arms to her next. “You’re a good gal, Marie. I echo everything the wife just said, and this place you got here, holy moly! Is than one of those infinity pools you got out back there?” 

“It is,” she confirmed, kissing his cheek and moving to welcome Dylan and Evie, his girlfriend.  

“Well dang it, I should have brought my trunks, shown off this body of mine to all you ladies!” His joke had everyone in soft fits, Wilf flexing his non-existent biceps with a grin. “What are you laughing at, boy? I look better than you!” he then directed at Guero, who was as usual totally taken by the hilarity of his girlfriend’s grandfather. 

“That’s why I’m glad you didn’t bring the trunks, man. I can deal with that kind of competition.” His statement only provoked further laughter, Marie ushering them into the house to offer further introductions. Emma stood back with Guero to watch it all, this band of people all so different, from so many walks all life, all brought together because of her. Family. Her family. There they were.  

“What you thinking about?” Guero asked, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, resting his cheek against hers as she leaned back into him.  

“Just how I’ve gotten everything I ever wanted at last. It doesn’t look like I thought it would, but that’s one hell of an amazing family I have right there in all those people.”  

He kissed her cheek with a smile. “You got a really amazing immediate one right here, too. You, me, and this little one.” As he stroked the small, rounded swell of her pregnant belly, she couldn’t agree more. Six months later, their first child joined them, a daughter.

They named her Cassie Marie.  

The End.  

[obsidiancreates]

Icewild (Part 2)

(There should be a Read More link but if it doesn't show up tell me because that's been happening lately and I don't know why.)

The arrival of the newcomers is... interruptive, but not halting. There's still the matters of making sure the ogres don't turn on the humans, of tending to wounds, of having a new day.

Of breakfast.

Barnabos keeps Kremy in the corner of his vision as he works on the monkey bread. The lizardfolk clearly knows his way around a kitchen as he pulls a chef's hat out of a bag of holding, and then a little pencil which he uses to add curls to the ends of his mustache. Then he pulls out a strange belt of some kind, fastening it around his waist.

"Alright Gid. Just light me a little fire here and then hang around in case I need ya."

"Sure thing man." Gideon lights the little fire below the pot and then steps back, crossing his arms and keeping his own eye on Barnabos.

"Not the trusting sort there, Mr. LeCroux?" Barnabos asks. "No need for a bodyguard, as long as ye don't strike first."

"Who said anythin' about a bodyguard? I just like havin' Gid around."

Barnabos sees Gideon puff up a little at that with a smug yet proud smile. Ahhh, well, that makes sense. Always better to have one's lover looking out for them, even when it might not be needed.

"I'll be servin' up a feast myself this morning," Barnabos says, tossing some pork into a pan and deeply inhaling the scent as it sizzles and pops. "All sorts o' fine foods, sweet an' savory alike."

"I'll be cookin' up some Agwe classics myself." Kremy pulls a small bag of flour from his belt, as well as a small glass jar of oil. He measures both out carefully and mixes them together in the pot. "Sausage and chicken gumbo, and maybe a tarte. We'll see, I dunno if I wanna risk a beezleberry infestation here."

"... Did you hit your head when you landed here, lad? I don' understand half the words yer saying."

"Oh. Right, well, a beezleberry is some kinda... horrible Feywild monstrosity. Tastes real fuckin' good! But kind of otherwise really horrible in every other way."

"I thin' I speak for everyone when I say you'd best leave that out."

"Yeah, probably."

"Is Agwe a Feywild city as well?"

"What? No, it's a fuckin' normal city."

"No need to get up in arms, Mr. LeCroux! Was just askin', I don't recognize the name is all."

"I guess it is pretty inland for someone like yourself to visit."

"It's where you wanna go if you're lookin' for a good time," Gideon says, pulling out a cigar and lighting it with his magic. "Gamblin', sleepin' around, scammin'-"

"Sounds like you should tell Mr. Stabbaskotch about it!" Barnabos declares with a grin. "He's the scammin' and gambling sort!"

"Not surprised." Kremy just keeps stirring his flour and oil mixture. "I could taste fiendish magic all around that little fella. Hope he got himself a good deal out of it."

"We may never know." Barnabos pops the bread into the oven. "He's got some sort o' beastie after 'im, but if you ask me he just needs to face it."

Gideon takes a drag from his cigar. "Sounds like he got a shitty fuckin' deal. Hey, how big is this fuckin' breakfast gonna be?"

"I'll be makin' a feast for the whole camp! It'll be plenty to fill up on, don't you worry."

"I'm making enough gumbo for seconds too, Gid." Kremy gestures back at Gideon. "His stomach's made of fire and stuff, he needs extra."

"Well I'm also keepin' up some fuckin' gains." Gideon flexes and grins.

"I'm not so scrawny myself, lads, I know what I'm doin'. ... Speakin' of, Mr. LeCroux, are you ever going to add any food to that there slurry?"

"The rue's barely there! It's only a light caramel, I'm looking for milk chocolate."

"Yer burnin' it on purpose?"

"Cookin' it. Keep your hands away though, this stuff is fuckin' Agwe Napalm."

"... And that's a common dish there? Something that they call napalm?"

"Can find it all over, none's as good as mine though."

"... Maybe don't tell Mr. Stabbaskotch where to find your city, on second thought."

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

The breakfast is a hit.

Kremy made enough gumbo just for his own family and their "hosts", so to speak, while Barnabos fed the rest of the entire camp. Not a single crumb or droplet was left behind of either of their meals, the gumbo being a highlight.

"Holy shit!" Skrimm literally bounces in his set a bit. "How have I never had that before?!"

Jornir places his bowl away. "It was... very good." He nods at Kremy.

"I'll admit, I 'ad my doubts watchin' the process, but it was well worth it." Barnabos sops up the last dregs of it with some bread. "I'll be tryin' to make my own take on it soon enough."

"Lookin' forward to tryin' it." Kremy leans over to Gideon and, less subtly than he thinks it is, whispers, "I saw him fuckin' drown everythin' in that Ancient Estuary shit Duncan had, I'm not fuckin' eatin' that so I'll just give it to you."

Gideon tries to laugh in quiet gleeful agreement. It's also louder than intended. Everyone graciously ignores this little conversation, for the sake of the ogres and their new holiday. Otherwise Barnabos and Skrimm might be rolling for initiative over the slight against Ancient Estuary.

"Oh! By the way, not to uhhhh impose," Gricko says, making a strange hand gesture, "But um, the big fella, there."

"I am called Jornir."

"Jor-nir-aye."

"... N-no."

"Anyway! Um, I noticed you've got a little funny shedding going on," Gricko says, lowering his voice and running his words together at the tail end of his sentence as he tilts his head. "And if I'm not mistaken, my friend Kremy here should have some nice bananyas leftover because he never used them in his pie, and I think it would make a nice, salve." he folds his hands and gives Jornir a funny little smile.

"Oh, yeah, I think you're right." Kremy reaches into his bag and pulls out Bananas.

Daisy gives Kremy and Gricko a look of perplexion and judgement so strong that it's a wonder they don't take psychic damage.

"They're fuckin' magic healin' bananas, alright?" Kremy tosses one at Jornir.

Jornir catches it, and examines it. "This is... infused with magic." He looks at Gricko. "I did not believe you when you said you were a druid."

"Oh, that's fair, I'm not the usual kind." Gricko pats Hootsie on the head as she, with an intelligence more humanoid than animal, pulls a plate of muffins closer and begins eating, picking out any chunks of fruit she finds like a picky child.

"Well... thank you. I will go use this." Jornir stands and leaves the table, and just as pointed out there's a fine dusting of fur on the seat as he leaves.

When he returns, there's sure to be... more visible damage.

But in the meantime, things settle a bit.

"Well," Taishen sighs, "Before all of this happened I'd told Myelin I'd check on an issue with the plumbing system, so I'll be going now. They gave me a wonderful outfit to do it in, too!" He holds up a pair of blue overalls and a fetching red cap.

"Oh, you guys got plumbin?!" Gideon leans in. "Why didn't anyone say so, we're fuckin' filthy!"

"Well, it's not working right now-"

"Oh, I'll get that workin'." Gideon stands up. His chains fall to the floor with a heavy clang! "Just fuckin' watch. Take me to the ogre sewers, dragon guy."

"Oh, company! Excellent news!"

"Go get 'em Gid." Kremy calls after them.

"Jackasses," Skrimm snorts.

Queenie glares. "They're fixin' your water, Skrimm."

"They're also working when they could be relaxing."

"But a hard day's work can be rewarding!" Twig bounces in her seat and holds up a hand. "You get to have things working right, you get to feel all nice after you get cleaned up, you get to lick frogs you find whole cleaning out the cupboards-"

"Lick frogs?" Skrimm's face scrunches.

"Didn't you try snake poison with the ghosts, Mr. Stabbaskotch?"

"Totally different."

"Yeah, snake poison tastes bad." Twig shrugs. "Anyway, I think it's gonna be better once they get the water running."

"Yes, I... am in desperate need of a bath. I'm still... messy, from Julia and Bobby's... acts."

Torbek makes a low sound of both disgust and intrigue. Frost wrinkles his nose and shakes his head.

"Well, I'm sure they'll be returning with good news for us," Barnabos says, leaning back in his chair and puffing on his pipe. "Oh, Mr. Jornir! Lookin' much better. What do you think about all this, sending the fire lads to fix the plumbing."

"I think that it will not work," Jornir says, sliding back into his chair and smelling of smushed bananyas. "And that we will need to have everyone move before we go to take the Armament from the Princess. ... And after the blood sacrifice."

All mouths at the table fall open.

"... Talk about a mood killer," Gricko mumbles.

There's a long silence.

And then Daisy raises her hand and signs, "I nominate Bacon for the sacrifice."

[milf-n-dilf-dippin-dots]

IM GOING TO KILL IM GOING TO KILL IM GOING TO KILL

Last night my roommate and I got some drinks- i shared some soju w him and hit the hay after packing away some stuff n tidying/rinsing etc

I leave at 9am this morning, 3 bottles of soju on the table, 2 cans of sprite and some snacks on the table "oh its fine, he knows im out im sure he'll tidy and throw out some of the counter rubbish for me :>"

Come home at 4pm

The only thing thats been done is the 8 dishes that were in the sink (lil cups, 2 bowls from dinner and cooking utensil) not including the pan on the stove

Nothing thrown away!! Im going crazy!!!!!!!!!

Be so fr gang, am i like. Blowing it out of proportion? Or is the fact that im the primary cleaner of the house insane.

Important note is that i have no choice but to be the person who does mostah the cleaning- because he sleeps 12 hours a day, waking up around 2 or 3 pm and not going to bed until 5 or 6 am.

I went away for 2 nights n i come home and hes like "oh i could finally get stuff done because im only productive at 4am"

Which hey man sure dude you do you i dont care what you do in yer free time-

But my ass isnt gonna go 'yes! Sure! You can vacuum and wash dishes late at night/early am! Even though it keeps me awake because i cant close my door!'

But i also dont want to end up being this dudes damn mother the fucking manchild doesnt even know how to mop properly- or vacuum properly! And he doesnt vac the carpet! Or wipe down the oven/benches after using em! Like cmon man!!

"Oh but maybe he didnt get taught!"

Dawg i am his roommate, at what point is it my responsibility to teach a whole entire dude how to take care of his surroundings. I saw his room when he moved out- it was bad. This dude borders of raw negligence of his surroundings, and if it wouldnt cause me the harm i would stop cleaning up after him just so hed suffer. And he leaves the tap running to wash dishes.

I dont know what i expected tbh- his parents built 2 houses for their kids next to their 2 storey spiral staircase chandelier having house.

Im fighting for my fuckin life over here- 300 rent a week, 125 a fortnight for a couch, 50 a month for wifi, etc while this dudes like "yeah i paid all my rent a month in advance, and i get my money from dividense" it makes me want to break his trachea.

Like lets be fr i am blatantly not a pleasant person, moreso in high doses, and moreso when i have to deal w someone who fucks their own life even when theyve gotten dealt the perfect hand of cards to do well.

Like, yeah man im sorry you cheated on your girlfriend of multiple years for 5 whole months then got sad about it and became an insomniac but im not gonna suffer your shit schedule and not sleep well because you wont see a therapist or take meds. Like is that my problem? To be clear im not a cunt to his face, but i am a cunt. And i am annoyed at him. Maybe i should commune like a normal person, but that involves me sitting this dude down to tell him he needs to pay attention to things like 'responsibility' and 'reasonable expectations'.

He had guests over a while ago and i ended up cooking for them all!! And cleaning up after them!! And making breakfast the next morning!! He apparently makes 1800 a fortnight and he spends almost all of that. He owes me money!! Sometimes i pay for groceries n he just has to pay me back! Like dude???

[yelmor-boots]

heya, have another snippet of the fanfic I've been writing (i took a tiny hiatus but I'm fuckin back)

"Garrison survival training can eat my-"

"Please, McClain, I don't want to deal with your obscenities too."

It was the peak of afternoon, the sun was blistering hot over the desert. The bits of sand that kicked up under their boots felt like shards of hot glass brushing their legs. Their jackets had long been thrown over their heads, pants rolled up to their knees and Lance's boots were unlaced. The socks tied to his belt felt like a handkerchief Hunk wanted nothing to do with.

Although, he was bordering on doing the same since the desert sand seemed to be cooking his feet in the oven that was his boots.

Lance squinted past the collar of his jacket, wiping the sweat from his brow. There was nothing but miles upon miles of endless expanse; yellow felt like lasers boring into Hunk's eyes. The only change in the scenery was the occasional dried-out cactus, which did nothing to quell the spark of ugly anxiety rolling in his chest.

Their bags hung like heavy boulders on their backs and Hunk found himself - once again - wondering how they got here.

It went a little something like this.

[aliypop]

Back To Black : Chapter 5

latest chapters : Chapter 1  Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Word Count:  10,355

Writers Notes: Here we are Chapter 5 topping off season 4 and kicking into gear of season 5, I hope you all are enjoying the series so far, I’ve been enjoying writing and watching Peaky Blinders now am I gonna rewatch the show again oh Definitely !!!

shout to @herosneednotapply​ and her oc Florence

Warning: Show violence and language Suggestive themes

Translations :  

So roden si ek divano, = What you seek is an answer

Me gindivas ke mules. = I thought you died

Na daţar = Don’t start

Zhi kai avasa arakhliam pale = Until we meet again

Possiamo già spararle? =  Can we shoot her already

Spari quando dico spara = You shoot when I say shoot

Pairing: OC x Canon 

( Eleanor Williams ) / Thomas Shelby  

(Claudette Williams) / Finn Shelby

(Virginia Williams) / Ada Shelby

Plot: What happens When the Williams Family makes their grand return back to London from a war stricken France to only find the rocks of war and the runts of crime the Shelby family slowly leaking into their world,

 1925  14th of  April

Dear, Thomas Shelby

When you get this letter, it will be on your wedding day, which I must say congratulations on marrying the whore of the Heath, as Virginia used to tell me. Of course, I'm not jealous or anything. If anything, I want to see you happy.

 Elizabeth Stark will make you a happy wife and the mother of your children. Yes, I know you're expecting a daughter. Flo told me when you wrote her. Clearly, you didn't think we women wouldn't talk, and yet we do. I find it foolish that you sent me my grandmother's ring when you had no plan to possibly ask for my hand, and if you did, you'd have come to the states and asked me, not sent me hints that I can't comprehend. 

Tommy, I don't understand you, and yet at the same time, I do. At the same time, I can't shake you out of my skin or the memories out of my brain. Or why I feel the most alive when I'm near you, but when I'm away, everything reminds me of you. The Gin at my restaurant was yours, and it cured my sadness, a bit sweeter than I remembered, but I want to love you, but it hurts, so from now on, if you must send me letters,

London

"May it only concern business, Forever yours, Eleanor Vadoma Williams,"  Tommy growled, his brows furrowed as he threw his whiskey bottle at the wall. "Tommy, are you okay..." Virginia asked, fixing her fedora, "Everyone's waiting for you at the church," she'd seen that face before, a man in love, a man in denial, a man with no plan for the fact that she had been there, 

"Leave..." he said, tears pricking at his eyes

"Tommy,"

"FUCKING LEAVE." Tommy had been going through it with the Changretta's at his throat and Arthur spirling down to a hole he'd fear he couldn't pull him out of. The only voice he needed to hear was his own. " Cold feet, I see..." Ada sighed, standing next to Virginia, 

"Getting married again for your own personal gain..." she scoffed as Virginia looked at her, 

"He's protecting her honour." she shrugged, "I respect that,"

"Marriage is about love, Virginia, not some business deal because two people fucked, and now there's a bun in the oven! " Tommy looked between the two taking his things as he left out the house, something told him this marriage would only end in heartbreak, and perhaps it was actually Polly, 

"Charles, keep your hat on," Claudette sighed, "May I never have children," she mumbled, straightening out her dress. It had been a while since she'd been in one of those, 

"Alright, I'm ready to fuckin go,"

"Arthur, do you think Tommy's makin' a mistake..."

"Julian Tommy always makes mistakes. We just let 'em fucking figure it out 'imself." handing him a vile of snow, Julian sighed, taking some as Lorcan snorted the rest, "Now that's a fucking Shelby." 

Westerham Heights

Tucked away in the camps was a band of Caravans, horses, and clotheslines filled with hanging clothes. In the corner,  a red caravan encrusted in gold paint and green. It brought back so many memories of their mother,  " So roden si ek divano," Vadoma said as Bernadette turned around, "Me gindivas ke mules." Bernadette growled at her sister, Vadoma laughing, her gold jewelry dangling off her like a queen,

 "Thought you swore off learnin' mères tongue." 

"I got tired of the women picking on me, so, no, I learned." she smiled, 

"Come in for tea, will you?" opening the door, Bernadette had always been envious of her sister's caravan with all of its gold dressing and how spacious it was, but because it was their mothers, 

"Wine?"

"You never changed," sitting on her bed as she poured her sister a glass, "What brings you by. The only person who passes is Elizabeth Gray, the princess," Vadoma smiled, thinking about Polly, 

"Why does my daughter have our mother's ring?"

"Fate seeks what it wishes to find." Vadoma shrugged her shoulders, "Vadoma...Na daţar," she growled, 

"Only the truth of a lover can show the truth of the heart."

"Eleanor is getting engaged, and you're going to fuck it up like you fuck everything up!" Bernadette growled, 

"I'm afraid it's been you who's fucked everything up, not just with Eleanor," Bernadette scoffed at her sister. She was right, 

"The war with Luca is because you neglected your husband's dreams, Leslie taking over is because you sided with your husband and not your daughter, so yes, fate seeks what it wishes to find," Vadoma gave him a cup of wine, "Fate seeks to destroy your family, and it will if you let it." Bernadette turned away from her sister as Vadoma sighed, "This is why mother taught me her ways and father had you forever stuck in his." her skirt swept up against the floors, 

"So giving Thomas Shelby her ring was her plan..."

"You never wanted it. You wanted Louis's excuse of a ring, one only a man in vaudeville could buy you."  Vadoma laughed as her sister only began to feel small, "Vadoma Esme wants to see ya," 

" Heed my words," Vadoma warned, "And talk to mother, she'll guide you, "Zhi kai avasa arakhliam pale."

Small Heath - 1926

It had been a year, and the war was still ongoing. Standing in a trashy apartment were Arthur, Finn, Isaiah, and Claudette, "This is complete shite..." Claudette grumbled as Arthur laughed, "It'll do so you can shoot the fuckin Italian bastards, " taking a sip from the flask, "Am I in charge," Finn asked as Arthur glanced at him, "Isaiah's in charge. You make sure Tommy don't get fuckin shot, and Claudette..." he took a deep breath knowing his  sentence would drive her into madness, "Yes Arthur,"

"If you don't fuck dis up, consider yourself an official Peaky fucking Blinder,"  

"Yes, sir, I won't let you down." Claudette saluted. 

"You could learn from her, Finn." Isaiah laughed,

"Alright, so Tommy 'Ill give you a signal to be on the lookout." Finn nodded as Arthur had then left, 

 "You know, I think we should have the guns ready," Isaiah said, handing Claudette one to clean, 

"He's really trusting ya with a gun?"

"Is that a problem, Finn..." Claudette asked,

 "I don't get why you have to fight,"

"This is my war as much as it is yours."

London -The Red Ruby

"Well, Well, Well, if it ain't Ms. Williams," Luca said, sitting across from Virginia, cigarette in her right hand, dry whiskey in her left, "If it isn't the fumbling bastard who shot me in the fucking ribs." she laughed, "Jessy tells me you serviced her, I assume you paid for her private fee alongside the house fee?" sipping her Whiskey as Luca rolled his eyes, "She was just a quick fuck," he shrugged, "Yeah, that's not how it works here in my whore house Mr. Changretta,"

"Is that so, Ms. Williams, because my house my rules?" he snapped his fingers as two of his soldiers stepped up to her, "Yeah, and in my house, guns get disarmed, so good luck with the shoot out," crossing her leg, every now and then she still felt a bit of pain, but not as bad as when Ada stopped talking to her, 

"You queer bitch..."

"Thanks, I know. Now, why are you really here," 

"You crossed me,"

"Don't remember when I did..." Virginia smirked, playing innocent, "The port that night," Luca leaned in closer, trying to intimidate her. She only shrugged,

 "You shot one of my fuckin men!"

"That was one of yours?" she pretended to be shocked, "Oh, Mr. Changretta, I'm terribly sorry." she pouted,

 " You should be because I'm gonna be karma ready to fuckin rain on ya parade until you and that little girl of yours is dead,"

"I'd like to see you try."

" Possiamo già spararle?"

"Spari quando dico spara!"

"Then shoot me now, go on, kill me, but I warn you, you won't get a cent out of me. Maybe Leslie, who's been embezzling your money, taking your drugs, and doing you dirtier than any of my whores here." tipping her hat at him, 

"That's a fuckin lie!"

"Jessy, sweetheart." snapping her fingers, 

"Yes, Ms. Williams?" she walked over as Virginia gave her a passionate kiss, "Give him the copies of the books," she ordered, 

"Yes, Ms. Williams, anything else for you."  Eleanor pointed at his two goons, 

"I wanna hear words Williams, fuckin words-"

BLOW!

Jessy then signaled for two other women to remove their bodies, 

"Was that a fucking lie Changretta..." Virginia questioned, "Now. If you could, take your books and go, and never fuck with me again." her gun pointing dead center at his nose, 

"I got a bullet ready for you, right next to Tommy Shelbys,"

"Mhmm, I'm sure you do, girls." she snapped, "Get 'em out of here before Alfie gets here."

"Yes, Ms. Williams."

Manhattan 

"You know, darlin. That ring, it's really something. It doesn't look like no heirloom to me." Sally said, drinking champagne as Eleanor stood in the mirror trying on countless wedding dresses that she had no interest in wearing, "Well, it is," getting short with the woman. Sally was lucky she didn't know the truth about her son, or the fact Eleanor didn't say it to watch the lady kill over,

 "You said it's from a friend. Is it a male friend? Oh, not get her another dress. She looks like a pig stuffed in a blanket." 

"Tommy would've said I looked fine," she mumbled under her breath,

"So that's his name, the man who's gonna make my boy's wife a cheating whore." 

"If that's what you wanna-" a loud thwacking noise across her cheek, "Think," holding her face, Eleanor bit her lip. She knew if all the abuse that had happened here to her in America had happened, in London, she, like the rest of anyone who was being cross with her, would have been added bodies to the floor. 

"You are such an ungrateful bitch you know that." Sally asked, "Thinking you can just come into my son's life and ruin it. He doesn't and will never deserve you." her hand wrapped around Eleanor's neck as she pushed her down to the ground, fiddling for her gun in her garter she pulled it out,

 "Touch me a fucking gain and see what happens," Eleanor growled, that fire in her eyes still alive and present. Looking over her shoulder, she could see Tommy standing there, something that had been going on for a while. Everything was Tommy, and Tommy was everything, 

"I'm... so sorry I have to go." Eleanor got dressed and ran back to her penthouse. She couldn't take it anymore, this wasn't her life anymore, and she was losing control over it,

 " Lena, we didn't expect you to be back so early..." Carlton said, trying to cover himself and Walter up with a blanket,

 "No need, we need to talk,"

"I'll leave you two to it." Walter walked off in Eleanor's robe. Taking a deep breath, she then looked at Carlton, "We are two different people, and for us to work, I have to actually be honest with you,"

"What do you mean," 

"I mean... I'm Daisy Buchanan, and you're Tom. I'm reaching every night for a light and a life I  can't have because it's in England. He's in England,"

"I'm not following?"

"I'm not just some dopey bright eyed Jazz -singer Carlton, "

"Then what are you..."

"A sinner and I come from a line of 'em." she smiled, 

"I don't understand,"

"I do the devil's business, and I'm in love with him,"

"Lena, you're scaring me." Carlton gulped. Her eyes had looked darker than he remembered,  

"Good..." 

Small Heath

"Was that the signal..." Finn asked. It had been a week now,  and still no sign of Tommy's plans, which meant that in the meantime of  scheming, they'd throw parties and get a bit drunk, Finn and Isaiah would bring home prostitutes, and Claudette kept watch, 

"If you 'ave to fuckin ask, it's not the fuckin -"

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

Loading up the shotgun the way John and Arthur had shown her in the past was Claudette. Her eyes were focused on her target, two of Changretta's men. This must have been the signal, for nothing else could have been louder than that for it to not have been, 

"Don't you think that gun is too big for you, sweetheart,"  Finn asked as Isaiah grabbed a pistol, 

"It's just the right,"

BALAW!

"Size... Is what's the plan!" she shouted, a bit of ringing still in her ear, " I'm going downstairs, Finn top floor, and you," he smirked, 

"The roof,"

"Why the fuck do I get the roof!"

"You want to be a Peaky don'tcha,"

"Alright, fine, I'm going..."  she rolled her eyes. While on the roof, Claudette had set up her guns, waiting for the real fun to begin. Although she had in the past set traps for The Peaky's or was a distraction, this was the moment to prove herself, 

"There she is..." Leslie pointed at Claudette, 

"What should we do with her,"

"Kill her," 

Guns fired at Claudette as she hid, shooting back. This was harder than what Arthur told her, but if she could survive France during the war, she could survive this. More bullets flew as more bodies fell, but Claudette still couldn't lose, or so she thought. Reaching for her pistol, she found it missing until she felt the pressure of a heel on her hand. 

"Looking for this?"

"I'll fucking kill you!" She spat at her mother's foot,

"If you want to seem threatening, don't go straight for death. Instead, go for how you'll torture me. The way you'll destroy all I stand for." Leslie smirked, removing her foot from her hand, "How you'll blow my brains out. Or knife my eyes out whatever it is those Peakys do," her laughter twisting the knife deeper into Claudette's heart. Leslie could see the fear spread into her eyes the closer she got to her. Leslie could almost taste the sweet victory of killing the life Leslie had created for personal gain. After all, she did kill her brother to climb the ladder of success, "I'll let you grab a weapon of choice first but choose wisely. I don't like to lose." Claudette grabbed her pistol as her mother laughed, pulling out her revolver, 

"And to think you're my daughter..." 

"I'm every nightmare you've ever had."

"Is that so because last time I checked, I was every nightmare you ever had. Since the day you were born," Leslie growled, "I loved you, I really did, but you messed up every plan I had for myself," she nodded, 

"You were my beautiful accident."

"I don't understand..." 

"A passionate night in Small Heath gone wrong..." she began to pace, "I was young, useless nothings. I trusted that man, I loved him, but I was weak just like you," she laughed, "So very weak... I let him take the best years of my life, and eventually, he left and came back when you were three. He didn't want children, but I couldn't let him hurt you, so I set the house on fire with him in it. And you in hopes you'd have a better life than the shitty one I had." Leslie sighed, trying to pull on the heartstrings of empathy, 

"You left me to die... then waste away in an orphanage..." she laughed, "One where they made me use different soap from the other kids because of my skin," Claudette chuckled, "Or where they'd cut my hair because they couldn't tend to such unruly curls!" she nodded, "Yet you think you can storm back here telling me bullshit and I'd trust you!"

"What's wrong. You don't trust your mother,"

"I don't trust backstabbers who try to kill their own family..." 

BANG!

"If you see Andre in hell, tell him I'm coming for him next," the bullet  lodged in her leg,  the scream of pain from her mother causing her to laugh, 

"That'll teach you to mess with The Peaky-"

BANG!

"Fucking Blinders, huh..." Leslie smirked, "never turn your back on your enemies," 

London 

"I need to speak to Virginia..." 

"Who's askin?" Mary asked, her breast nearly hanging out of her dress, "Ada Thorne, it's important," she glanced at the woman. Was this really what Virginia was into. Sure, she'd been by the brothel a few times, but even she knew the women had nothing on her, 

"Boss is in 'er room third floor." 

"Thank you." walking up the stairs, she passed a few customers, a few clients of their own, cops on the payroll, politicians, and many other scums of London's low life, but she had to hand it to Virginia, for it to be a whore's house it was still the most beautiful thing she ever did see,  knocking on the door, Ada took a deep breath, they hadn't seen much of each other since the wedding, in all honesty, it felt like neither of the two cared enough to check on the other either, especially with Virginia and her commitment issues,

 "Who's there,"

"It's Ada..." her fur coat wrapped around her tightly, nervous as all get out to how she'd react,

 "Mrs. Thorne, come in," a cigar in her mouth as she opened the door, 

"I don't see you gettin much of any sleep."Ada commented about the bags under her eyes, "Running The Pearl and keeping Luca off my back," she sighed, sitting down in her silk robe, 

"How's Karl," she asked, "Find him a proper father figure yet?"

"Virginia..."

"Screwing some new man, I mean, I get it keeping cover," she laughed, knocking back some pain pills, 

"Virginia Claudette's been shot." Virginia dropped her bottle of Brandy on the floor, the glass splattering across as her heart sank, "Where is she..." her bottom lip trembling as her bottom lashes collected teardrops, "The boys rushed her to the hospital,

 "Who shot her, when, where-" Ada pulled her close. And she kissed her, 

"Get dressed, and I'll tell you on the way,"

In one wing, there was a killing spree, a bloody massacre. The first of its kind. Until The Saint Valentine's Day Massacre of 29, but on the other side of the hospital was Claudette, who was still in surgery. She had a bullet so close to her spine that one wrong move could leave her paralyzed. "Finn Shelby, sit down, will ya," Polly commanded, 

"Not til she's alright," he began to pace harder, trying not to panic. Linda hadn't stopped praying since they'd been in the waiting room. Meanwhile, Isaiah had been flirting with a nurse, 

"Virginia, glad you could make it," Polly smiled at the two, "Ada told me everything," Virginia sighed, looking at her. she could tell the family was still at each other's necks.

Even she knew when to step down and be cordial, flattening her overcoat as Virginia sat down trembling like a leaf as Ada tried to soothe the other woman. Virginia only had vengeance on her mind,

 " I didn't mean for any of this to happen..."

"Shush, it's not your fault,"

"But it is. Our family put you all in this mess,"

"Luca is our mess, too," Polly sighed, "But we'll get through it, you'll get through it," smoking her cigarette, "in due fucking time..." 

 Heels clicked against the floor as Bernadette entered the hospital, her Chanel fur draped around her body as her usual smile was simply a frown, "Ms. Dupont..." Polly scoffed, looking at the other woman, "Elizabeth Gray..." she smirked,

 "Lovely to see you, but I need to speak to your nephew Tommy."

"About what,"

"My daughter."

"Mother now is not the time,"

"But it is Virginia..." she turned to face her, " 

"Mum!"

"Let her speak," Polly raised her cigarette in the direction of Virginia, " The War with my sister-in-law is over..."  she smirked, "Took matters into my own hand and shot the bitch cold." Bernadette smiled, 

"She's out of our hair?" Polly asked, "Completely out of it, no one fucks with my children and lives," Bernadette sat down, "Besides, I did some thinking, and you Shelby's would do wonders with us, Williams." she winked at Virginia, who blushed at Ada,

"Welcome to the shit show then," 

The doors then flew open as a nurse came out, her hands shaking a bit," Well, how is she..." Finn asked, growing paler by the second, "She'll need some help walking again, but Claudette's going to be just fine,"

1926 25th of December

Dear Elle,

Another Christmas has passed, and I know you said to only write about business, so I'll do that. In a year, we've defeated Luca, fixed the problems your brother caused, and formed an alliance. Of course, I was told you received the ring from your aunt. However, I wonder if you're under the mistletoe now, wishing I were there. Or when you see the snow. 

Does it make you feel like you're missing home? Like there's a light out in the water you can't reach, and every time you try to touch it, it fades, like leading a horse to drink water,  

Seeing that I strayed from talking business, your mother tells me you're returning soon to pick back up on The Pearl.

 I told Arthur about the plan, and although he tried to fight Virginia, he eventually came to it. Of course, I also managed to make a few investments in America which the family doesn't know about, but you and Flo do. 

I also managed to get Ms. Eden off my trail, and I'm soon heading into politics, something Pol has always thought I'd be good at that, but nevertheless,

 I can only try my best hand with the horses that I handle and Change the world.

I know you said no more gifts, but this time it's from Charles, attached to this letter should be a box,

Manhattan

"Merry Christmas and a Happy early Birthday. May we meet again, Thomas Shelby," Eleanor took a breath sitting by the tree next to Florence, "Eleanor, I wouldn't open that box. Remember the ring?" she looked over at her, "Yeah, I do, but this is a gift from Charles, he's like a little God son of mine," she smiled, 

"You think a four-year-old would buy you a custom-made dress worth thousands. This is a french silk ribbon." Flo sighed, 

"I  have to know what's in it." Untying the ribbon, she took out the dress as a loud gasp was heard, "Do you know whose dress this is!?! Flo looked at her, a bit confused, "Daisy's from The Great Gatsby." her tone was sarcastic, "No, it's Norma Shearer's from Upstage!" she smiled, holding the fabric of the dress close to her heart, 

"I know I was being sarcastic, so tell me, why are we in here. While Carlton's in the living room."

"He's out there with Rodger..." Eleanor rolled her eyes, 

The Garrison 

"This is a big fucking day for Claudette, so everything needs to be perfect." Finn commanded, both Tommy and Arthur looking at him as if he were a new person, "It's a big day for you, Shelby's. Winning another race, getting rid of that prick Luca, And Tommy, the soon MP of South Birmingham." Virginia said, looking over at Ada, 

"The MP of South Birmingham... impressive, Mr. Shelby," Bernadette nodded, a man who could change the world,  yet her daughter was with a man who'd change whatever his parents wanted, "The Black Pearl textile factory would be happy to advocate for you. I'm sure Eleanor would be pleased to see your efforts." Tommy only gave her a nod. Eleanor was just as much of a touchy subject for Tommy as Grace was, "Alright, Claudette will be walking in any minute, so everyone just act fucking normal."

"I'm fine. Really I am," Claudette said as both Lorcan and Julian helped her walk down the street, 

"What if you fall..." Julian remarked,

"What if someone targets ya and blows yer damn brains out, Claudi..." Lorcan suggested, 

"So is this like a family meeting or a departure or... " Lorcan opened the door, Finn rushing to her side, hugging her as Isaiah walked over, 

"You look good," 

"Thanks, Is, " she smiled, hugging Finn back, 

"Missed me that much huh..." her head on his shoulder, 

"You two lovebirds make me fuckin sick." Arthur walked by them as Johnny Dog. And Virginia laughed,

 "They're in love." Ada smiled, 

"We're just friends!" Claudette's cheeks were dark pink, and Finn's freckles had a red glow to him, 

"What she said." 

"Anyways... we got a surprise for ya, Right Tommy?" Lorcan said, smoking his cigarette, 

"Is it Whiskey..." she asked, "Or another mission or money or-"

"Claudette, shut up and let Tommy speak." Virginia rolled her eyes as Bernadette sighed, 

"Thomas, continue." 

"Ms. Dupont, the watch.." he then looked at his brother, Arthur, "Arthur, you go get the other thing..." Bernadette stood by Tommy as Claudette looked  surprised and nervous, hoping she didn't do anything wrong,

 "I can't fuckin find it, Tommy!" 

"Behind the bar..." he shook his head. Finn, Isaiah, Julian, and Lorcan had all been by Tommy's side, making Claudette feel small than she looked, 

"Found it."

"Probably fuckin placed it back there..." Julian mumbled,

"I heard that. You fucking idiot..." he grumbled, 

"Alright, Tommy, I got it." Arthur walked over, 

"What's going on..." Claudette questioned,

"Ms. Dupont, Virginia, would you two do the honours." clipping the pocketwatch to her waistcoat, Virginia was teary-eyed, 

"You've grown up to be an amazing young woman. I wish I could be as courageous as you," Virginia smiled, putting the watch in her hand as Bernadette finished clipping it to her, 

" I ain't really good at speeches, but," Arthur smiled, "This little lady has been a pain in our asses since she ripped the streets of Birmingham off and had her first taste of Gin at 12 years old." he sniffled, "She's been nothing but the right kind of trouble, always askin about gettin a fuckin hat, being the one kid who's ever loved the Peaky name, and saw it as anything but a curse, and for that... Claudette Hilda, Welcome to The Peaky Fuckin Blinders. You finally got that damn hat you wanted." 

Tommy took the hat putting it on her head, as her eyes watered a little, "I won't let you down, Tommy..." she then looked at Bernadette and Virginia with a big grin on her face, wishing Eleanor could have seen her, a shadow the front of The Garrison, 

"Claudette, since you're a Peaky, I think it's time you see where we keep the good stuff," Finn said. Claudette took his hand, "What if they notice we're gone?" she glanced, "Everyone except maybe Tommy is drunk," Finn laughed, "Never really seen him drunk, actually," he mumbled, pulling Claudette into the room, cases of every illegally made type of alcohol were in that room, it was heaven for the cops and hell for any gangster if ever caught with it, she was in heaven, "The Pearl has... had a bigger supply..."  she winked as Finn laughed, "Yeah well all this is ours," spinning her around as she laughed, he loved her laughter, it always brought a kind of joy to him when he heard it, the bubbling sensation in his stomach as his heart beat faster, that was the feeling Finn craved on nights that were spent with prostitutes or empty lovers, yet Claudette was always there, "Hi..." she said pent up against the wall between Tommy's Gin, 

"The moon looks beautiful on your skin," Finn smiled,

"You'd look beautiful on my skin," she gasped, 

"I'm so sorry ... did I just-" 

"Mhmm," tilting her chin, his eyes on her lips as she became flustered, "Kiss me..." Claudette's knees nearly gave out from under her as he kissed her, the taste of tobacco and Gin on his breath. He smelled like Tommy's cologne, but that did matter. Biting her lip. Finn was pleased with the squeak that left her mouth. This was the big lead. Pulling her closer to him, he grabbed her by the waist as she grabbed him by his suit jacket, 

"We're not just friends, and you know it..." Finn said, pulling away from Claudette as she was panting, wanting more from him, 

"Finn..." 

"If you don't love me, say it..." he kissed her neck as she laughed, Finn!" Claudette laughed. Finn then bit her neck as she closed her eyes, "Damn you, you Shelby..." she bit her lip, 

"Say you don't love me, angel,"

CLICK!

The bright bulb nearly blinded the two as Tommy sighed. He wasn't surprised. After all, this hadn't been the first he'd walked in on these types of things, 

"We were just, uh..." 

"Claudette, sweetheart. Friends don't go off to an abandoned room alone to snog,"

"What about you and your women friends..." Tommy laughed, "They fuck," Finn said, as Claudette smirked, "Out fucking now!" Tommy pointed to Finn as Claudette mouthed sorry to Tommy, "You're a French trotter, and he's like Stallion, so be careful." he looked at Claudette as she nodded.

1929 Arrowhouse 

1929 was the year of a blooming new decade, the year that Tommy and Eleanor could feel their lives changing for the worst. Tommy had to deal with the stock market crash and Michael, who brought his wife and ideas back from America to England. Eleanor and her family were starting to get threats by those who once admired their businesses. She had political campaigns to attend to sit and look pretty, while Tommy had to sit and scheme and stew in the frustration that was politics, and

 "Mr. Mosley..."

"Ah yes... if it isn't Carlton Barlow... the black from America... didn't think Thomas would have the likes of your kind here."

"You'd be surprised, what people allow, Mosley, was it?"Carlton asked, "Tell me where you stand on the issues of The Red Scare..." he asked him as his eyes trailed over to something else, a dark blue gown with white beading like peacock feathers was seen from across the room as the big white feather covered the wearers face, he had remembered Tommy telling him that every woman except his wife and the swan were off limits, but Mosley believed that he had laid eyes on God's very own pearl, 

"Oh, Thomas, this fine man here has a question for us." Carlton looked at the man, almost startled by his presence and looks. He could understand why Eleanor was very much still in love with him. He would be, too, if a man like Thomas Shelby showed interest in her, 

"The names Carl-"

"Carlton Barlow heard a lot about you," Tommy nodded, "This here is my wife, Lizzie, "

"Pleasure to meet you. I assume your travels here weren't too bad?" Lizzie asked as Carlton laughed, "They were just fine, a little peckish at times, but" his wrist a bit limp as Mosley took notice, "Everything was fine, " 

"So tell me, how do you feel about the rights of homosexual's should they even have rights, Mr. Barlow." switching the subject to gain attention, "I think it's no one's business what anyone does in their own homes, Oswald." his face heating up,

 "I see, and your thoughts Mr. Shelby..."  Tommy's eyes locked with what he thought was a ghost, black waves in her hair as her brown skin complimented the dress. Beading adorning her back, he had to know if she were real or if it just was another trick of the mind like his seeing Grace was. His eyes followed her movement. Trying not to lose her in the crowd, but how could he when she was dressed better than the family hosting, 

"Tommy..."

"Tommy..."

"Tommy..."

"We need an answer, Thomas," 

"Excuse me," he walked off, Lizzie's eyes catching where his gaze went as she sighed, shaking her head. 

"Eleanor, is that you?" Polly asked as she turned to face her. 

"Ms. Gray, a pleasure to see you, and might I say you look radiant." she smiled as Polly hugged her, "Please, dear, you call me aunt Polly," Eleanor hugged her back, "I'm sorry aunt Polly," pulling away as she watched her light a cigarette, 

"How've things been?" 

"Oh horrible, they've changed for the worse, people acting more like animals than the boys do," she shrugged, downing a glass of whiskey, 

"What about you, love. Have you seen-" 

"Sorry to interrupt you, ladies," Eleanor turned to see Thomas standing behind her. The dress was a perfect fit. And it complimented him well, 

"Mind if I steal her for a moment?" Thomas asked,

"Steal... I prefer the term borrow, Mr. Shelby?"Eleanor smiled up at him as she took him by the hand. Polly stood back and smoked her cigarette, and watched the show unfold. 

"Why do we always meet at dances... is it because our life is a dance?" Tommy pulled her close by her waist, "You've changed," he mentioned having her in the middle of everyone dancing, "And so it seems you have too." swaying with the rhythm, this was where she was supposed to be, and yet this time something still didn't feel right, was it the timing, or her emotions that she tried to push deep down for him bubbling to the surface, 

"How're things in the states..."

"About the same as here but shitty, with shitty accents." Eleanor joked, "And how were things here while I was gone," 

"Shitty, but with the same shitty accents." he smiled at her as she laughed, "Same Tommy Shelby, eh," Eleanor commented as he spun her around, Lizzie had been dancing not too far away with Mosley, who wanted to bring up their past, but her eyes were strictly on Tommy, she knew she couldn't compete for Tommy's love, but Lizzie would try anything to keep her family together, yet from afar Tommy looked happier than she'd ever seen him, 

"Tommy... it's an Emergency outside..." Ada said as Virginia wasn't too far from her. That aggravated groan she had missed so much,

 "Do you need help..." she asked Tommy, as Tommy glanced at her. Outside the mansion there was a pretty drunk Arthur and a very pissed-off Linda, with Polly  trying to deescalate the situation, 

"YOU RUINED MY LIFE, DAMN, YOU ALL TO HELL!"

"Linda put the gun down..." Tommy sighed as Ada stood next to Virginia, who gave Eleanor a wink, 

"Linda, can't you come back and do this on a Tuesday..." Julian asked as she pointed the gun at him, 

"You're a monster. You're all monsters!" 

BANG!

Rushing her to the dining room table, Lizzie ran in along with Carlton and Mosley, "Who the fuck are you..." Arthur pointed towards Eleanor, "The woman who can help save your wife," she then ushered Lizzie over, 

"You ever taken a bullet out before?"

"No,"

"I have." Ada glanced over her, wondering who this woman was, especially if she was standing next to Tommy,  "Lizzie try to keep her head propped up, Virginia, stop drinking the fucking WHISKEY!" she groaned, 

"Tommy!"

"Already on it, darling..."  

"Eleanor, sweetheart, what's going on. You're scaring me..."  grabbing her by the arm, she pulled her gun on him, "I'm so sorry, " she walked out the room as Carlton followed,

"Eleanor... That's not the real you, is it..." he gulped, "What's really going on. Who are you really" she sighed,  "The penthouse we lived in,  you fucked in. Paid off by drug money. Darling, the cocaine Walter snorts I provide, the horses we visited on public outings together, race horses for races I know how to fix." she laughed, "So, to put it plainly, Carlton Barlow, I'm a gangster, and this is the real fucking me, now are you going to be squeamish or will you fucking help!" 

She rushed back in, taking her gloves off, "Here, she can use it as a tourniquet." Eleanor smiled, "Are you sure?" Ada asked as Virginia laughed,

 "Clothes mean nothing to my sister," 

"Lizzie, would you do the honours?" Eleanor asked, handing her the silk glove from off her arms. Giving her a nod, Lizzie tied them around Linda's arm, 

"Lorcan, Julian, take her upstairs, " they both nodded at Tommy, all that stress in his eyes as Eleanor only looked at him from across the table, "Everyone out..." Polly ushered cigarette in hand, 

"You too, Lizzie..."

"We should get back to the celebrating of political minds that will look at Carlton and me as if we don't belong, well he doesn't, and now he knows too much and-" Tommy kissed her, a fire behind it, Eleanor pulled away, her hand on his chest as he held it there, 

"Tommy, I shouldn't...But I want to," she sighed, 

"He doesn't treat you the way I did, eh sweetheart," 

"Tommy, you sent me my aunt's ring in the post..." she laughed, "You're kissing me when your wife is out there, and..." her eyes trailed to his lips,

 "I'm engaged to be married,"

"To the man who could give a shit about being with a woman," 

"How did you..."

"I do my research, just like you have a racehorse named Tommy. Not to mention he's out there fucking dancing with the fan I gave you," he winked at her as she pushed him playfully, "So Charlie didn't pick the dress out. You, sir, are a pain in my ass." she grumbled as Tommy looked at her, "You confuse me, yet if only you understood what it was that you do to me." looking into his clear water blue eyes, 

"Why do you think I sent the ring..."

"Thomas... I love you, but I'm not yours..." the train of her dress trailed behind her as Mosley walked in, taking a quick whiff of her scent. 

"Didn't think women of your... race could afford such lavish... fragrances,"

"I didn't think God could make such an asshole..." ignoring his gaze on her figure, "Carlton, let's go..." holding his hand,

London 

The Connolly Mansion

It was now three weeks after the events of Arrowhouse and. The mansion had felt empty to Eleanor, not because it obviously was but because the laughter in it that was her father Louis was gone. Passing the pictures in his old study. She began to remember the memories of each photo, some from when they were in France. There was one with her aunt Vadoma, her mother, Leslie, and her father all  posed in front of a Caravan, 

"Couldn't sleep?" Bernadette asked,

"I was getting some early paperwork done for Carlton. He doesn't understand a single thing about his campaign. Also, he won't talk to me," she laughed, "Something to do with being the sinners he was warned about," she rolled her eyes, 

"He'll come around, and in due time you'll learn to love each other,"  Bernadette smiled, "Just about as much as I loved your father," she took a deep breath, 

"He can't love me..."

"Oh, Carlton, I know. I was talking about Thomas. Don't think I haven't noticed how you look at him," she watched her daughter sit down, reading into his political campaign. 

"He's married, 

"So was Vadoma, but it didn't stop her from seeing Elizabeth Gray," she smirked as Eleanor pieced it together, 

"You see, fate seeks what it wishes to find, so what do you wish it to find." 

"The truth..." Eleanor nodded, "A purpose to this madness, the reason money is missing. I don't mean from the crash. We can recover from that on a horrible night," she shrugged. Eleanor had only been back for two years total, and still, she never missed a beat with the business,

 "We can trace the funds, I can meet with Tommy, and-" 

CLASH!

The sounds of glass smashing from downstairs were heard, hitting the top of the left drawer. Eleanor took her father's hidden gun out as she raced downstairs, "Virginia, fucking stop it, it's not that damn serious..."

"Ada's pregnant... Jul's," she laughed. Her hair was ruffled up, and her clothes frumpy on her, 

"I love her... I would... Would I'd give up everythin... to fuckin marry her, " she laughed harder, 

"Ginia..."

"Juls fuckin listen to me!" she growled, "I'd give up everything for that woman, the whoring, the smoking, I'd give up my life for Ada, YOU TELL ARTHUR FUCKING SHELBY THAT HUH!" she turned her face, Eleanor dropped her gun, the blood on it making her heart shatter, "You tell the damn coppers an... and the-"

"Who did that to her..."

"Nora, just a few asshole nobodies..." 

"Julian Shelby, who did that to her," 

"Nora, don't..."

"Do you want me to shoot you?"

"Alright, it was The Billy Boys, the same men who killed Aberama's son." he heard footsteps trailing back upstairs, 

"You can't fight them, Nora..."

"I had to wake up to fucking burning crosses at night in America. I can handle a group of fascists who nearly beat my sister into a fucking pulp!" 

"I'll phone Tommy for backup. God knows he'd burn the world down if something happened to you." he mumbled, "He'd what..."  she stopped walking,

"Burn it to hell, he would..."

"I'd do that for Ada..." reaching for the cocaine in Julian's coat pocket, snorting the remainder that he had left,

 "I'll replace it by tomorrow..." she grumbled, 

"Oh, and Julian..."

"Yeah..."

"If you're gonna call Tommy, tell him to meet me at The Pearl in an hour."

"Nora, I don't fuckin work for ya,"

" Just fucking do it, Jules!" she sighed,

 "Esmeralda, could you gather my papers," the young maid nodded, "Of course,"  

"What am I supposed to do,"

"Call Thomas!" she ran upstairs, passing her mother, "Where are you going."

"To put the fate of the future in my own hands." 

The Pearl

"We could get caught," Claudette laughed, standing on the stage, "Seems we always do, so fuck it." Finn winked, lighting his cigarette. She'd never seen the club at this angle in her 20 years of living. She could see why Eleanor had loved to sing on it all those years ago, "How's it feel..."

"Costumes a bit itchy, but... I can see us ownin one of these bad boys... Sex, drugs, booze, and all the jazz in the world." she laughed, "No one could tell us no, well maybe except for Tommy, but,"  she sighed, 

"I couldn't own a thing like this..." 

"And why not. You can plan a hit, shoot any target,"

"'Ave you ever heard me sing," Claudette laughed, her waved hair reflecting the stage lights, 

"No," he lied, "But enlighten me." sitting back in the booth, taking a deep breath, Claudette opened her mouth and sang the first song that came to her mind, 

" I wanna be loved by you, just you," she swayed on the stage, a smile on Finn's face as he admired her beauty, 

"I wanna kissed by you, just you. Nobody else but you." waving for one of the waitresses who was still there, she poured him a glass of Gin and sat it on the table. Claudette watched how he eyed her as if he'd have his way with her on the table. Stepping off the stage, she remembered a trick that had always seemed to work, 

" I couldn't aspire to anything higher than, filled with desire to make you my own!" she sat in Finn's lap, kissing the corner of his mouth as she took his cigarette, and smoked it, red lipstick tinting the top of it as he smirked, pulling her closer, he couldn't deny that he didn't love her, 

"Will you Marr-"

"Finn..."

"Claudette..." 

"We know, we know out..." She groaned, "At least go upstairs... if you're gonna fuck," Eleanor grumbled. Claudette rolled her eyes, "You're just mad 'cause you don't get any..." the glare her sister shot her could send chills through the dead as she went behind the stage towards her office, 

"What's gotten into her knickers..."

"Definitely not Tommy." Finn laughed, flinching when he felt a hand smack him in the back of his head. Claudette laughed as Tommy looked at the two, a smile in his eyes that only Claudette could see.  

"Where's she..."

"Office."

Eleanor took a deep breath as if she were singing. There was so much on her mind she needed to cover, but first, it had to be business, "You called..." she nodded, 

"Well, Julian called, and I was doing some campaign work for Carlton, though he's in a hotel, phones his sister," she sighed. Tommy poured her a glass of whiskey on the bar, handing her the cup, "The point, dear," he glanced at her, pulling out his glasses as she nearly stuttered,

 "Point is the stock market crashed. This is the perfect time to conjoin our businesses," Thomas looked at her, "What can you offer me that Michael couldn't..." sitting on her desk, her legs crossed, she looked at Tommy. The two took a quick glance at each other, 

"75% of the Black Pearl Company, you'd be like the chief of staff, considering you're a businessman yourself," rolling his cigarette on his lips as he lit it, 

"How would that benefit me, sweetheart..." looking up at her, her eyes catching the dim lighting in her eyes, but yet behind them was pain, a highly unshakeable pain, "How wouldn't it. We are one of the highest crime families here in London. We provide top tire textiles, drugs, women, booze,  gambling, and entertainment, not to mention our exports..." she smirked, "We're getting morphine and heroin, discreetly packaged," 

"Eleanor... "

"What more can I say, your connection for opium and our connections here, we'd be richer than the fucking king." she smiled, 

"Eleanor, darling," 

"I get it if it's a bad idea, and of course, I'd have to talk to your Board of Directors." sipping her glass of whiskey, "I don't mind. I'll get through to them all. They'll see it as I do, and-" 

"We'll have a fucking empire, my love. You are a genius," he smiled wholeheartedly, her heart melting at his smile. Kissing her hand, he helped her off her desk, 

"How fast can you be at The Garrison tomorrow." 

"I can pack a quick bag and stay in a hotel, an-" she thought, "You know what, it's my business proposal, the least I can do is welcome your family to my home," she nodded, 

"I'll get meself a hotel and-"

"You will stay with me as my guest. Julian is already there, probably drunk on the floor and not to mention Finn and Claudette and their other friend-"

"Then why the hell are we still here," Tommy joked as she rolled her eyes, "Patience Thomas Shelby," the hairs on his neck standing from the way she said his name. He hadn't felt that way in a long time, except for maybe Grace, who became more of a ghost to him than the lover he once remembered. Hitting the back of the door, both she and Tommy heard an abrupt ouch, 

"You'd think they'd stop doing that by now."

The Connolly Mansion

Claudette sighed as she sat in the study, melancholy taking over. Staring at the pictures brought her joy, in a way, comfort. That everything broken could still be fixed. In front of her was a picture of Leslie, Vadoma, Bernadette,  Andre, Eleanor, and Virginia, but in Vadoma's arms was a baby that she held as her own, looking at the year it was 1908, the year she was born, but why was she holding her instead of-

"Sweetheart..." Finn knocked,

"Yes, handsome?" she asked, looking up at Finn, who had the biggest grin on his face, "Isaiah and I are gonna go look for some trouble before the rest get here. You wanna come?" he asked, 

"What kind of trouble are we talking about?"

"Booze, some whoring maybe..." he smirked as Claudette sighed again, this one a bit worrying. He could see her face turn into concern and jealousy,

 "What's wrong..." 

"I thought maybe... tonight I'd be the only whore you'd need, but..." she looked away from him,

 "Risk your chances, I guess."  she laughed, "You know... I love you. I try so hard to excuse everything you do. Because I do everything but whore around because I don't want anyone else to make me feel good but you," Claudette stood up as Finn kept his gaze on her. She was right. Lately, he hadn't been giving her the attention she needed and should've, but here she was in front of him,

"Aye, Finn, you coming," Isaiah asked,

"Go without me," Finn smirked, 

"You sure?"

"I got something to take care of," 

Downstairs there sat a sobering Virginia, who had still been sulking about a love that could never happen. "Ya know Tommy, can I call ya Tommy, fuck it, Tommy, there comes a time in ones life where you realize, you don't wanna keep diving in the streets to be under the arms of anyone, ya wanna settle down an- and be with that one person raise a family with that one person..." Tommy took a drag of his cigarette, nodding to what she had to say in her semi-drunken state of mind, "Fuck it have an empire with that person... cause none of this?" she leaned in, pointing at everything in the living room, "Means shit without love, not any love true pure love, like in those Disney toon thingys." Virginia laughed, rolling over, hitting the floor, 

"Get my drift?" she laughed harder, "Dropped my joint!"

"I see your point..." he nodded, sitting there thinking about the times he and Eleanor shared together,

 Eleanor brought the good out of him. Her smile alone could brighten up his day, but their witty banter was always his favorite like he could be himself around her, 

"Of course, I was talking about Ada and I... But take my words... and he's gone..." 

 Eleanor sat in an oversized sweater by her window as she heard raindrops fall against her window. She could only hope that his family would arrive safely. Watching the drops come into one another, footsteps by her bedroom as she shrugged it off, 

"You know rain means unhappiness..." Eleanor  kept her gaze at the window, 

"Odd, I was told rain means many things..."

"What does it mean, Mr. Shelby?' turning to face him, her curls looming over the side of her face, "The first kiss of a first love, melancholy, lost lovers?" he mentioned walking in, taking sight of the portrait of herself on the wall, if only they knew each other during the war, 

"You're starting to sound like." she faced him,

"I haven't noticed, " he charmingly smiled, "By the way, is that my jumper," 

"It helps me sleep, " Eleanor shrugged, "Couldn't sleep with dear ol Carlton, eh," showing him her hand, the ring that was once there was gone. Tommy, on the outside, had shown empathy. But, inside, he was happy she was a freed woman. "Sorry about your engagement.."

 "He came from a family of assholes and deserved to be free from me." she laughed a little. Although she didn't want to marry him, it still hurt that he left her, that at that very moment, he was in a hotel room leaving to go back to America. 

" Elle..." 

"I mean, who would ever love a monster like me..." she looked out the window, tears blending with the raindrops, "Who would want to say, Eleanor Vadoma Williams, will you marry me," she sniffled, 

"Elle,"

"Instead, his sister and mother nearly tried to kill me!-" her breathing began to get heavy, "My father died,  I wasn't there. My brother faked his own fucking death. I wasn't there!!!" her hands in her hair, shaking her head furiously, Tommy rushed over to her, scooping her in his arms as "Hey, hey, hey it's alright I got you, love," Tommy kissed her on the crown of her head,

 "Tommy, you don't understand... I'm not strong like you..." her body shaking as he sat her in his lap, her head resting on his legs,

 "Can I tell you something," Eleanor looked up at him, "Tell me what..." 

"You're stronger than I could ever be. You are a force not to fuck with. I'm just a scared little boy still out there on that fuckin battlefield thinkin a medal, a gun makes me a fuckin man, and it doesn't, Ellie, it doesn't." he laughed as she listened to him, "I'm runnin from death, you probably laugh in his face." 

"Tommy..."

"You're right. It was a coward move of me to not come to see you. Or ask to marry you, but I was scared I would fuck up the one good thing in my life." he sighed. Eleanor looked up at him as her hand touched his cheek, a tear rolling down his face, 

"What about Lizzie or Grace. She's an amazing woman, and Grace, you loved so-" Tommy kissed her hand, then up her arm as he eventually reached her lips. Pulling him down, Eleanor flipped him over, pulling away from him, "You are the first thing on me mind, the last thought before sleep, and the truest love." Tommy said, moving her hair to the side as he  pulled her back down, kissing her neck as she moaned, 

"So you like me?" Tommy flipped her over again. Tommy rolled his eyes as he kissed her again, a bit more passionately than they had ever kissed. Her lips had a lingering taste of his Gin, while Tommy had a taste of her wine and cigarettes on them. Eleanor tangled her fingers in his hair as her leg was over his waist. Biting her bottom lip, he heard another moan escape from her mouth, nearly driving him crazy. Both of their tongues had been knocking into each other like waves on a ship as the heat between them only became hotter, 

"You tell me..."

"Ms. Williams, your guest arrived-" Esmeralda blushed, "I'm sorry I-" 

"No need, it's okay... See to it that they have drinks if you please," she blushed hard, "Tommy, you should go and uh... mmm," she stood up as her knees went a bit weak, 

"I'll be downstairs." he fixed himself up, 

"Oh, and Elle..."

"Yes, Tommy,"

"Did that kiss answer your question?" she gave him a nod as she got dressed, a pair of knickers, Tommy's sweater, and her oxfords, tussling her hair a bit,

"Nice fuckin house..." Arthur looked around. There were portraits and crushed velvet drapes, and art deco sculptures with art nouveau in the mix of it,

"Oi Lorcan, Karl, put those down before you steal something and  break something!" Ada shouted, her fur coat around her shoulders, 

"May I get that for you..." Virginia offered as Bernadette watched from the shadows, "You may..." a cold shoulder towards her as Virginia nodded,

 "What's gotten into them?" Claudette asked, her hair disheveled, " I wouldn't know," he nuzzled into her neck as she giggled, 

Last but not least was "Polly Gray..." Bernadette crept out of the shadows, "Bernadette Connolly..." she gave her a hug, 

"I assume your daughter threw this meeting together?" 

"I would assume so," she shrugged as Polly gave her a cigarette, 

"How have you been..."

"Alone, you know, it feels like something is missing," Bernadette sighed, "I know he died years ago, but he died a broken man." she sighed,

 "He died with only me by his side, not his children..." Polly hugged her tightly, "I don't want that for Ellie..." 

"You visited Vadoma, didn't ya." 

"What gave it away,"

"Everything." 

"Do we really have to go to this shit Michael..." Claudette nearly groaned at the sight of her as Finn shook his head, "Yes, Gina, we do. Let's  hear what Bullshit comes out his mouth and go from there..." Michael said, holding his wife's hand, " Look what the cat dragged in... a wet skank, I mean Yank." she heard a few laughs from her comment, 

"Oh, sweetie, maybe when you mature, you can own a house like this one."

"Gina darling, this is my house..." Finn pointed towards the portrait of her on the wall, "And Michael staying out of jail?" 

"Claudette..." he looked at her, his eyes not leaving hers, "See something you like, Michael..." Finn glanced at him as he pulled her closer,  

"I know it's late and storming, but."

"Tommy, why the fuck are we 'ere at fuckin 2am."  Arthur grumbled, "Hear him out; it's not his fault," Eleanor said from the stairwell, "It's actually mine." she stated, 

"Who the hell are you..." Michael asked as Gina nudged him, "That's fucking Eleanor Williams... " Gina blinked, "Owner of The Cell Block club in Manhattan, I own her records." Eleanor only laughed at the young girls' reaction. She could always appreciate a fan. 

"If you would all please join me in the dining room, we can all get this meeting over with," walking down the steps as Thomas helped her. Arthur took another look at her as it hit him. She was the woman from the club those years ago and the same woman who'd been sending letters. Now, something was fishy with having half her family around his own. 

"Ms. Williams, can I get you anything?"

"Tea would be great. For the table," she nodded as the maid went away, "Now, where was I," she stood up as Tommy watched, "For those of you who don't know, I am Eleanor Williams, Leader and CEO of The Black Pearl Oyster Company, my board of directors," she pointed towards Virginia and Bernadette, "To make things short I have an offer you can't refuse." 

"You think you can offer Shelby limited some fuckin thin, huh," Arthur laughed, "With the market crashin and shit,"

"You must be Arthur... The treasurer is just the man I wanna talk to," she smirked, "But not just yet. I want to talk to the number cruncher of the company," 

"That would be me, Michael Shelby,"

"Mmm, the one who ran the numbers to shit... " 

"I could cut your eyes out right here and now."  Michael gritted his teeth at her response to him, "In 1922, Shelby Limited was up to 28% in Gin sales; and being that it sold for a year at my club, that brought us to 1 billion and half of it to 500,000,000 for The Shelby company," she then looked at Tommy as he nodded for her to continue, both Bernadette and Polly listening, "In the states, we shipped over 5.4 Million liters of Gin-"

"Those are great numbers, sweetheart, but what's that going to do for us," Gina asked, "I have a baby on the way and-"

"Mrs. Gray, how about you listen and don't fucking interrupt me,"  Virginia, Claudette, and Arthur looked away as Eleanor sighed, "Now, Tommy and I were talking and thought, with the need for heroin, morphine, and opium ever rising we'd give you 75% ownership of our companies, you all would become board members, Tommy Cheif of Staff, you'd have stocks with the company and access to the inventory, so Finn, Virginia, Dette, Juli go easy on it," 

"You think we'd partner up with you so you can take down our fucking business, and a  woman like yourself at that," Michael scoffed, "Tommy would have to be fucking stupid to go through with this. It's best if you all keep in your place, Gina. We're leaving-"

Bernadette hit her first on the table, startling everyone. The fire in her eyes rose as she looked at Michael, "If I had put a bullet in everyone who took a potshot at this company for not keeping in our place..."  Bernadette laughed, "The entire shithole of a world would be littered with the bodies of dead pricks like you." 

"That's the Bernadette I remember," Polly grinned, "As the chairman of the company, I say, what have we got to lose." 

"An awful lot Pol..." Arthur said, "Ow, do we know we can trust em..." 

"You trust Virginia enough, be around Ada..."  Eleanor stated, "You trusted Claudette to make her a Peaky. We, Williams, are Loyal. We are who you want to have in your pocket, just like you, Shelby's are," 

"Now, have we got a deal."

"Darling..." Tommy looked over at her, "Are you sure about this,"

"More than rain." she looked into his eyes, the two in lovestruck bliss. They'd never seen Tommy like this before, and if they had, they couldn't remember, 

"Then, by Order of The Peaky Blinders, you have an alliance." he smiled,

"Welcome to the family," Eleanor smiled,

"Wait..." Finn said, standing up, "There's something I want to say..." 

"Spit it out, Finn boy," Julian said,

"Claudette and I are getting married."

Eleanor nearly choked on her tea as Tommy blinked,

"We're in love..." Claudette smiled, "It's only right," 

[thegreenmeridian]

Deeply regretting signing up to do holiday cover at my old shop. Firstly this town fuckin sucks, I lasted less than a year here before quitting. But also like. HR lied to me. And I *knew* the guy was lying, I am so so used to this company bullshitting me and I was *still* dumb enough to agree to come up here and deal with this horrible shop.

It was understaffed to fuck when I had it. It’s worse now. The assistant manager quit so it’s literally just me and the useless bakery woman for daytime shifts. Genuinely all she does is badly “bake” (putting frozen things into an oven with preset programs) and sit at the register doing fuck all else. Evening shifts are covered by a variety of deeply unreliable people including a woman I let go last year when this was still my shop for getting 2 hours into a shift and going “if I have to work any more I will cry”.

The guy who took over from me looks like Henry Hill in the helicopter scene of Goodfellas but without the benefit of cocaine energy. Man’s totally letting the ship and schools that order from the shop walk all over him because his sales are in the shitter, probably because he’s not got enough time or help to put products on the shelves, so now I’ll be expected to do deliveries at ridiculous times of day as well. His password for the computer is, I shit you not, “LetUs.HireStaff”.

And this is just the shop situation. When I got to this town the apartment HR supposedly sorted for me had a guy sat in it. Man was, as far as I can tell, using it as a staging area to do laundry in the building’s laundry room. Despite not living in this building. The door doesn’t lock. There is *nothing* in the kitchen so I had to buy paper plates (on the company account obvs) and I’m having to order a saucepan to the shop so I can actually cook food.

And I blew a tyre on the journey here. So I now have to figure out how to get my car to Ísafjörður and me back here outside of work hours so I can get a new one put on, because the mechanic in this town wants 60k for a single tire plus installation and it’s 19k in Ísafjörður.

I have a countdown app on my phone so I can see the days ticking down. I am trying to work out the best place to keep the (overpriced and crappy because Iceland) cocaine I acquired in Reykjavík because again, the apartment doesn’t lock and I have to give my car to a mechanic. At a minimum there’s going to be at least one day where I’m doing 8-18 and given the staff he’s got, I’m guessing someone’s gonna phone in sick at some point.

And I am trying *so* hard to be Calm so I don’t phone up the HR guy like 🎵 why the fuck you lying, why you always lying 🎵

[isaacapatow]

with @zackastor | the daybreakers : planning the start of the ranch decoy

Zack Astor: Watch out for tripwires. -Zack's command is sharp, as he trudges ahead of the raider in the general direction of the Daybreaker camp.- Fleet and I set up a couple of traps around here. Don't wanna explain how you managed to die on a recon mission. 

ike apatow: Maybe you could explain why you think I wouldn't be able to notice a tripwire. -he ranges a little behind Zack, not trying to outpace him but not following in a straight line-

Zack Astor: For the same damn reason the Daybreakers aren't supposed to notice them. -Zack casts a glance over his shoulder, regarding Ike from narrowed eyes.- There's a small grove up ahead that gives good cover. We're gonna set up camp there.

ike apatow: It's your party, Astor. i'm just here to put on a hat and pin the tail on the donkey. -he tugs his bag tighter over his shoulder- You had any run-ins with the Sunfacers yet? Personally?

Zack Astor: Not yet. -he avoids one of the traps they have set that seemingly hadn't gotten triggered yet- Why?

ike apatow: -hopping neatly over the tripwire- Exchanging information is all, Zack. You tell me about the Daybreakers, I tell you about the Sunfacers. That way when they form a fuckin supergroup, everyone's up to speed.

Zack Astor: Already told everybody what I know about the Daybreakers. Redwood made a pretty big deal about it. -he doesn't turn around- Tell me about the Sunfacers.

ike apatow: They set up in groups. Each group has a bunch of teenagers in it because they're the ones with the teeth filed the points. -they reach the grove and Ike looks around, unslinging his bag- They got some addle-brained idea that they can figure out a way to make enhanced groaners. Ones that'll be able to, I dunno -- think? Follow orders? Build a better toaster oven? Something. Anyhow, that's what the kids are for. To experiment with, so if it works, they'll be commandable walkers with piranha mouths.

Zack Astor: Sounds like they are fucking nutcases. Don't think we're gonna have to worry about them joining up with the Daybreakers. -Zack kneels down, pulling out binoculars and a rolled up tarp- Heard they killed one of yours.

ike apatow: -Ike stiffens slightly, glancing down at the crown tattoo on the inside of his wrist as he attends to his own preparations- They did. They killed Tristan and tried to see if he could turn one of their teenagers into a megazombie, or whatever the fuck they're after. I can't figure out if they are full on nutcases, or if there's something more cunning about em. 

Zack Astor: Huh. -he casts a glance at Isaac, eyes narrowing- What do you want, Isaac?

ike apatow: What? -Ike blinks, wondering if he missed a step- What're you talking about?

Zack Astor: Figured you didn't share it for fun. -he gets up again, pushing himself to his full height- Why do you wanna exchange information?

ike apatow: Beeeee-cause ... it's practical? -he shakes his head- What do you want? Are you really this fucking intent on giving me the gears every time we have to interact?

Zack Astor: Call it healthy caution, pal. -Zack grabs his binoculars, casting a look at the Daybreakers camp. He can see a patrol, slowly making their rounds.- The patrol's are bigger. And they changed the times. About time.

ike apatow: You're misdirecting your caution. It's not like I got any reason to put the screws to you. We got enough outside threats. -he watches the movement of the patrol, noting down the time, direction, number of people- From what you said, that General's some kind of prodigy at military tactics.

Zack Astor: How about I'm gonna be the judge of that. -Zack leaves it at that, crouching down onto the ground as the patrol passes by and disappears around the bend- He's pretty damn good at them, yeah. That's why he's starting up counter measures.

ike apatow: Catching on to what we've been doing to fuck with his gang. How big a fan is he of sieges? We haven't gotten too much in the way of snow yet. Might not be enough to keep him from deciding to camp outside our gates.

Zack Astor: If he has to he's gonna. He sieged a prison once while I was with them. Took a good month before they went down. If they siege us, we're fucked. General's never lost a big-scale fight like that.

ike apatow: I don't know if Redwood's ready to withstand a full-on siege. We're good, but we're not a military force. If they're equipped to outlast us they'd probably be able to.

Zack Astor: It ain't ready. Not for a full-on siege. -Zack stares down at the camp, his eyes narrowing- Our only hope is that they still haven't properly recovered from the fire. But if we're picking away at their supplies at the current pace, they're gonna be on us. We're gonna increase missions.

ike apatow: Okay. -he's quiet for a moment, then- Mostly gonna be you now, spearheading this. With both Ermano and David knocked off the board.

Zack Astor: -he doesn't respond for a moment- I'm gonna need the raiders. Outside security too.

ike apatow: -harrumphs, cutting himself off before an almost automatic objection- I guess they are both mine right now, huh, with Ermano down. Awright, boss, you got both. Should we scale back on the normies doing the outside jobs now? Figure it's above their paygrade now, if the General's stepping it up.

Zack Astor: We're scaling back. Anybody else is gonna have to pick up on their slack. -another patrol comes into view. Zack's eyes narrow. Increased intervals too.- Think they can handle it?

ike apatow: With me deploying them, yeah, they can. So long as certain people don't rush into danger because they insist on being the biggest baddest chick the world's ever seen.

Zack Astor: -he scoffs softly- She's behaving. If she doesn't, she knows what's gonna happen. -the patrol disappears again, but the tension of being on enemy territory remains- You trained her pretty good.

ike apatow: -Ike doesn't look over at Zack, both of them concentrated on the patrol moving out of sight- You had her in your Wolf pack, so I hear. She must've picked up some shit there to still count you as her friend.

Zack Astor: -his eyes narrow, though he doesn't look over- What's that supposed to mean?

ike apatow: It means she learned from you. It means you trained her pretty good.

Zack Astor: Taught her enough to keep her from killing herself.  Still didn't manage to keep her from fucking herself up for fun. You managed to leash her.

ike apatow: -he snickers a little bit at that- She's a heap of trouble, that one. Figures it would take the two of us and Ares besides to wrangle her back from being a three-ring circus all by herself.

Zack Astor: -Zack stares up ahead, even though the patrol has long disappeared around the bend- She's pretty damn loyal to you. Don't fucking waste that.

ike apatow: I don't have any intention to. -hums to himself for a moment- Would he start conscripting out of the Daybreaker prisoners? To replace the trained ones we've fucked up so far. 

Zack Astor: They treat their prisoners like shit, so he's probably not keen on handing them rifles. Not impossible, though. -he seems to work something out in his head- We don't have enough people to go and try to free the prisoners.

ike apatow: -ike's teeth skid against each other for a moment- Well luckily neither of us would seriously consider one of our available ways to eliminate that possibility of militarized prisoners.

Zack Astor: You're suggesting we kill them?

ike apatow: I'm very carefully saying that's not an option we want to dwell on.

Zack Astor: -his eyes narrow and he stays quiet for a moment- We might not have a choice.

ike apatow: Guess we're the two for that. Nobody else needs to know, if it comes down to it.

Zack Astor: Nobody does. We're gonna have to hit them hard. -Zack's considers Ike for a moment longer, before turning his attention away.- Not gonna let your lapdogs in on it?

ike apatow: This isn't something I take lightly, Astor, so lock up the attitude for a few fucking minutes. You were one of those prisoners and here you are now, getting some kind of life back together. Each one of those people could have a chance if we manage to rescue them but- -he grits his teeth, grimacing like he's swallowing back bitter- Everyone in Redwood matters more to me. We'll do what we have to, just you and me.

Zack Astor: -he takes in Isaac's tone without much reaction, aside from a tightening of his jaw at Ike's reminder of being a prisoner. His gaze still fixed on the camp, not turning towards Ike- Then we're gonna have to move soon. Figure out a plan. Maybe poison their food and water supplies and see if we can take down a few Daybreakers alongside with that too. That could give us the edge we need.

ike apatow: Do the prisoners eat different food from the Daybreakers? I don't like poison anyhow. It's... -too cultish, is what he wants to say, but doesn't- ...there's too much room for error. Can't account for how long it would take for each person. No, let's come up with something else. -he rubs his fingers in circles over his face a few times, thinking on it- We should give them an alternate Redwood.

Zack Astor: Alternate Redwood? -he raises an eyebrow- You mean a false target for them to attack? Or a refugee camp?

ike apatow: False target. A decoy. -Ike drags his fingers down his face, then lets go, jaw working as he sorts through the idea- There's a ranch west of Redwood that's big enough to seem like a viable settlement -- we could kit it out, make it seem like it's lived-in. We'll have to send some people to stay there to make it look real, but we're already splitting forces as it is. We've got our backs against the wall. Everyone's been pitching in, they're gonna keep on doing that. -he falls silent, though it's clear he's still running scenarios in his head-

Zack Astor: -he works through the idea in his head- So they're gonna focus their forces on attacking that instead of finding Redwood. It'd be easier to trap and kill them. -his gaze comes to rest on Isaac- It means whoever's there might get caught in the attack.

ike apatow: Yeah. That's exactly what it means. -Ike looks over at him- So you're gonna lead it, obviously. Since I'll have to handle Redwood. Who else are you thinking? I say ... Nicki, Silvy, Hazel. Some civilian sorts too. Sol, maybe Fleet and Val.

Zack Astor: -he seems to consider- Nicki's been behaving, but she's unreliable with that. What about Ares or Orion?

ike apatow: I don't have time to babysit her, if she wants to act like a kid sneaking out to get fucked up at raves. I love Nicki and I can't imagine her not being one of my raiders but she is a grown woman and she's gonna have to suck up her need to act crazy and put this town first. -he considers, then says- You can have Ares, if you want. It's good to keep people who love each other together for this. Keeps em sharper.

Zack Astor: Neither do I. But if they're gonna balance each other out, it's a waste not to take them both. -it's a good selection of people, at least.- Good. It's decided. You gonna tell your people the happy news?

ike apatow: -Ike grunts, still looking at Zack- You know I'm not saying this to get back at you, or any kind of tedious shit like that. You're our biggest asset when it comes to knowing the Daybreakers. There's nobody else who'd work as hard to keep that list of people safe from them like you would.

Zack Astor: -he narrows his eyes at Ike- Alright. Why the hell are you telling me that?

ike apatow: Because I know this won't be easy. And the ranch is gonna be way less protected than Redwood. So just let me say it out loud as I make a god damn list of people who might face something worse than death if we don't pull this off, fuckin' jesus christ.

Zack Astor: Jesus, alright. -he scoffs softly, considering Ike for a moment. There isn't hostility in his gaze, though he doesn't seem friendly either, which already is a shift- I ain't the one you gotta be telling that. Tell that to the people who need to trust me to keep them kicking. Can't have them go all crazy.

ike apatow: All right. I'll handle it as soon as we get back. The people on our list can opt out if they want, but let's hope they don't.  -there doesn't seem to be more immediate movement, so Ike drops back slightly, focusing on this new plan- You can have Clint, too, if that works.

Zack Astor: Clint, huh? -Zack stands up again, stretching out his legs as the movement seems to have slowed- As long as he can manage without his dog. He's the type to jump in front of a bullet for that thing.

ike apatow: He'll have to. He wants to be a raider so he can consider this an evaluation. Take Leigh too for numbers. -the tally in Ike's head clicks at that point, fulfilled,  and his frown lessens slightly- It's a defensible ranch but like I said, nowhere near as tight as Redwood. Your gang'll have its work cut out.

Zack Astor: We'll manage. We'll have to. -he responds, going over the list of people in his own head. They should be capable enough- We'll work out supplies and the likes once we get back to town. You tell most of your guys the happy message, and then we'll get to work.

[bwamp-bwamp]

Holiday Havoc

This is a roleplay starter, but I'm tempted to turn it into a writing thingy.

If it works and starts a roleplay, aye, nice. If it doesn't, oh well. Either way, enjoy reading this fuckin thing.

Bubbles = others character or the reader

Winter based holiday = Hanukkah, Christmas, etc. (Sidenote: Andy is most familiar with Christmas because that's what I'm most familiar with, but I'm leaving this section open of others to decide what gets filled in, they are open-minded to whatever their partner celebrates though and will join in if invited to do so.

The holidays were just around the corner, usually it wasn’t that big of a deal for Andy, however this year was important to him. It was the first official (winter based holiday) they would be spending with Bubbles after being together for almost a year. This would also be their first time meeting their partner’s family. Parents, grandparents, siblings, nieces and/or nephews, anyone who would be there, Andy was going to meet them.

To say they were scared would be an understatement, they were fucking terrified. They wanted to make a good impression, but what if the family didn’t like him from the get-go? They didn’t want that to happen… which is why they were standing in the kitchen with their grandmas huge, overflowing recipe book held tightly in both hands, trying to decide what to make so he could attempt to win the family over. It was a bad idea really, especially to try without their partner knowing, seeing as not a single bone in their body was capable of cooking, and could run the risk of burning their house down.

Just looking at the book irritated them, not just because they weren’t granted their grandma’s or dad’s cooking abilities, but because the pages were withered and yellow, some had water spots but the writing was still legible, half of the pages weren’t even attached, just sitting loosely in it and the recipes weren’t organized by types. The sweets weren’t together, savory wasn’t with savory, etc. Grammy really just wrote as she came across and perfected them and it showed.

They’d be damned it they tried rewriting them and organizing it though. This was the only thing that he now owned that had her handwriting in it, as well as some of their dad’s recipes too in the back. They weren’t going to change anything about it.

So, here Andy sat on the kitchen counter, flipping through pages, trying not to lose or tear any, looking for treats that they think the others family would like, twisting the ring resting on their middle finger with their thumb from the same hand. They were silently mumbling the list of ingredients that were needed as they read for recipes that caught their interest, then getting up to see if they had everything, and moving on to the next if they didn’t.

At some point they just said fuck it and went with regular sugar cookies, then would just add frosting and sprinkles after. The third batch he tried making actually made it to the oven, even if it still doesn’t seem right to them, and that’s what led to the fire alarm being set off. Taking the cookies that were literally on fire out of the oven, Andy panicked, putting the fire out with the dish towel in their hand, muttering curses the entire time. Once the fire was gone, they made quick work of getting the fire alarm to shut off, opening a window or two to let out smoke even if it was incredibly cold outside.

This was NOT how things were supposed to turn out. Andy was supposed to, in their mind at least, get a random strike of good luck and have the cookies pop out of the oven looking and tasting like perfection. But instead they ended up with shriveled up, holiday shaped, charcoal, not cookies. Why couldn’t his Grammy’s and dad’s spirit come sprinkle at least a little luck and cooking ability upon him just for today.

Looking around the kitchen they once had spotless, all they saw now was a huge mess that had them stressing even more than they were before. Tears of frustration, shot nerves and the pressure they were putting on themselves filled their eyes. ‘I should’ve just made scarves or a blanket or something.It would’ve been the easier option at this point, but no, now it’s too late.’ As the thought passed through their mind, Andy moved to the cleanest corner of the kitchen and sat on the floor before curling in on themselves, tears beginning to trail down their cheeks as they silently cried.

[tandembicycles]

the most feared triplet: O V E N

he was literally a bun in the oven

[knowlesian]

ofmd is an alternate history and fractured fairytale at once and i am going FERAL ABOUT IT.

the alternate history part is fairly self-explanatory; things did not go as planned/why and what if it weren’t like that are the guideposts they set in the first episode. ofmd takes place in a world of made up moths, a new name away from being just like the moths in our world, where crown royal bags are shovel covers, people wear crocs and funky little crop tops and pinocchio was available in print in 1717. 

these aren’t mistakes or goofs: these are purposeful narrative choices. they’re not trying to be historically accurate, but rather to create their own alternate world where shit happened when and how the writers want it to.

the fractured fairytale bit needs a moment of explanation, just in case anyone isn’t familiar with the concept.

a fractured fairytale is essentially a deconstruction of a classic fairytale. they’re usually absurdist, they use a narrative structure or story/characters people are familiar with to tell a new story with a lot more nuance and a more modern worldview, and at their best they provide a thoughtful critique of whatever they’re attempting to deconstruct.

in a fractured fairytale, you might have an exterminator named, i don't know. sal, who has a thick brooklyn accent and is fucking sick of getting called out here to deal with this ant problem and not getting paid, lady. he doesn’t say nothing about the weird little graveyard out back or the rotating cast of kids in the oven, but he draws the line at convincing a bunch of singing ants to march their happy asses away from a cottage MADE OF SUGAR for the third time this month. cast a fuckin’ no-munch spell or pay up, & etc.

you get the picture. fractured fairytales, much like their source material, also usually operate on the Rule of Cool. things happen because it makes the story best, not because linear time or real world logic must be factored in. (unless factoring it in for a second would be coolest, like when you want to do some tender brow mopping while a wound heals: then it’s allowed.)

which brings me to the part i like best.

most alternate histories tend to ask ‘what if things were worse’. that’s not the entirety of the genre; some also ask ‘what if things were different’, but there’s not a whole lot of ‘what if things were better’.

especially not for marginalized groups.

i see a lot of utility and catharsis in narratives exploring pain, whether that’s just depicting real life or investigating how things might have gone worse. my issue isn’t with their existence so much as the wildly skewed ratio, and that for where i’m at right now in life i’m painfully aware life can get worse. i know that because over my lifetime, in many ways it has. not all the ways! but enough that political pessimism (never my chosen or instinctive mode) is currently unavoidable if i want to acknowledge reality and fight back instead of sticking my head in the sand.

all that means that i am very interested in art that says: i am not here for straight-up escapism so much as i am a celebration of defiant and sometimes angry hope for better in the face of genuinely shitty odds.

the thing about landing a dart on the proverbial dartboard o’ marginalization is that you move through life knowing the world is not for you. the ways in which that plays out change depending on how many darts any of us land and where we land them, but in some way we are always, always being reminded that we exist outside the mainstream and are allowed in on sufferance and promises of good behavior.

it’s why we can’t say ‘hey, get your fucking boot off my fucking neck, who the fuck raised you’ without getting scandalized pushback for a lack of civility. ‘please, person i know is good and kind and i am not in any way angry with, would you kindly take your foot away from the spot where you have placed it? i can happily wait another five to five hundred years, of course, but i would so like to not be down here’ is how you have to word these things, or you get called angry. or crazy, or stupid, or lying— the point is, people like us so rarely get to win, and we have to be so, so nice about the shittier realities of our lives if we want to be as effective as possible when trying to get people to listen up and knock it off.

ofmd doesn’t deny the more horrifying aspects of colonization and empire exist and hold sway in the world they built. they just refuse center them or make the trauma/tragedy the point, but instead use these glimpses into a harsher reality to craft absurd and emotionally real situations, alongside characters who get to not give a single fuck about how the world thinks they should be acting and are not punished by the narrative for being themselves.

(this does not mean bad things will not happen to beloved and/or authentic characters: it just assures them the eventual win, and means the narrative doesn’t end up enforcing a bleak set of rules that unconsciously assume to push back against the status quo is to be eventually ground down or broken in some fashion.)

this is why lucius could never have been actually dead: it breaks the show, on a fundamental level. and shows a lack of thoughtfulness and intentionality, neither of which really ever seems to be an issue for this team.

this is why nana is great with pronouns but judgey about a lack of murder, and why jackie and jim have a drink instead of fighting it out, or why stede isn’t angry about ed’s pirate face/off plan and ed comes back to knock boots just in time.

it’s about the Rule of Cool, yeah, but it’s about more than that. it’s about looking the realities of a shitty world and shitty behavior in the eye and saying, but why can’t we imagine better? we can so, so easily imagine worse. why is it so hard to think: what if people were kinder and more honest? what if you got to exist in a stacked system where you are the one it’s stacked against and still win?

and then it’s also about deconstructing pirate (and colonizer) narratives and fucking around in the murky waters of identity and finding solidarity and how to live out solidarity in the first place and a million other things silly and serious and on this day, the day of our rainbow capitalism overlords FINALLY GETTING THEIR SHIT TOGETHER

i am very, very glad this show exists. because fuuuuuuck me running, did we need a win right now.

[wispstalk]

mudcrab jambalaya

When traveling the roads of Tamriel, you don't want to be dealing with a pile of dishes. One-pot meals are essential, but stew can get repetitive, so here is a recipe that makes use of those ubiquitous nasty little creatures that are preventing you from fast-traveling.

Ingredients:

2 Tbsp olive oil

1 large onion, diced

5 - 6 cloves (i am not fuckin around) of garlic, minced

2 green bell peppers, seeded and diced

1 lb spicy sausage, such as andouille

1 cup lump crab meat. If, for some reason, mudcrabs do not assault you everywhere you go, imitation is fine.

2 Tbsp Ye Olde Tony Chachere's Lore-Friendly Cajun Seasoning

2 Tbsp fresh or dried thyme

1 tsp salt

1 can diced tomatoes

2 cans chicken or vegetable broth

1.5 cups uncooked white rice

1 lemon

Instructions:

Heat the oil in a large pot or dutch oven on medium high heat or coals.

Add onion, garlic, and bell pepper and cook for about 5 mins until onion is soft and translucent

Add sausage, seasoning, herbs, and salt and stir to combine, cook for about a minute

Add tomatoes, broth, and rice, then bring the mixture to a simmer. Reduce heat to low (or rake out a few of the coals) cover, and cook for about 30 minutes until the rice is tender.

Add the crab meat and cook for about 3 minutes until cooked through. (note: sometimes you can find lump crab canned or pre-cooked, and that can just be stirred in right before serving. imitation crab also does not need to be cooked.)

Squeeze in lemon juice, stir, and serve!