#I’ve been listening to this song and last Christmas on repeat

[starscream-is-my-wife]

Stuck in jail with ur bestie, ur other bestie, your bestie’s bf, and Soundwave

[zepskies]

Wake Me Up - Part 1

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

AN: Welcome back to the BMD-verse! Let me tell you, I’ve had this mini series outlined for months, but now I thought it was finally time to get to it. If you’re not tired of the Break Me Down world yet, I very much hope you enjoy Wake Me Up.

**As a reminder, this story is set shortly after Love Actually, and will contain references from that three-part story. 

Song Inspo: For this whole series it’s “I Can Read Your Mind” by the Doobie Brothers. (I pretty much listened to this on repeat.)

Word Count: 5.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Starting off strong in this one: with mature themes, show level violence, angst, kidnapping, PTSD, mentions of torture (not too graphic), and character death.

💚 Wake Me Up Masterlist || Break Me Down Masterlist

Part 1: “Familiar Territory”

The start of a new year continued a steady rhythm for you and Ben. Namely, another successful mission for the Supe Affairs team.

While you were patched into the team’s communications line from the safety of your desk back at the S.A. headquarters in New York, your friends were a few states over in Denver, Colorado. They’d just arrested a supe that had been committing a series of bank robberies by literally slipping away from the police, thanks to his particular superpower.

“Somebody better get this shit off of me,” M.M. groused.

He wasn’t too happy about some questionable ooze this particular supe secreted as a defense mechanism. According to Frenchie’s research, it was the same shit that certain frogs could produce to repel predators.

“Need a good hose down, more like,” said Butcher. “You smell fuckin’ foul.”

“Like Satan’s ass crack,” Ben remarked.

You couldn’t hold back a snort of amusement.

“Let’s just get the fuck outta here,” M.M. said, his tone all surly, as per usual. You didn’t envy his plight.

“Good job, guys,” you said, to change the subject. “Now it’s just a short flight back to New York.”

“No layovers this time. I’m not being paid to rot in a fucking airport with a bunch of mouth-breathing assholes and their screaming brats,” Ben said.

Charming. You rolled your eyes, but a smile played on your lips when you imagined his taciturn face.

“Okay, your majesty. I’ll make sure it’s a nonstop flight,” you said. “I’ll be waiting for you at home.”

That last bit, you said with a hint of more behind your words. You drummed your nails on your desk and crossed your legs underneath it. A week was a long time for you and your boyfriend to be apart, and you’d been missing him.

“You better be,” Ben said. His voice was deep and cocky. He was smirking, you were sure, and you knew that he’d understood you perfectly well.

“Anybody else hearing this blatant foreplay?” Hughie quipped.

“I sense cheeks will be cracked tonight,” Frenchie muttered.

“Ugh!” you heard Annie shudder.

You knew she supported you and Ben, but you also knew that she didn’t want to hear about the gushy details. You laughed through your embarrassment. 

“Okay, guys. I’ll see you all tomorrow,” you said, before you officially signed off. 

You grabbed your purse that was stowed away in a desk drawer, fished out your cell phone, and you called Ben’s cell. He picked up on the second ring.

“Yeah?” he said. 

“I love you,” you said with a smile. “Just wanted to make sure you knew that.”

“Mhmm,” he replied. “I’ll see you soon, baby doll.”

You pouted. “Come on, say it.”

“Say what?”

You sighed. You knew he was being deliberately obtuse.

“You know exactly what,” you replied.

Part of you was upset that he didn’t say it back as often as you liked. God forbid Butcher and the others hear him express his affection for you.

But you supposed you understood that any kind of vulnerability was difficult for him, especially in front of others. As much shit as you gave him, you also knew how to pick your battles with Ben.

“I told you. I’ll see you soon,” he said.

You once again tapped your nails, on your armrest this time. After a moment, you relented.

“Okay, baby. Have a safe flight,” you said, even if you were still frowning.

When Ben hung up with you, he let out a deep sigh.

An entire week with these juvenile cocksuckers was almost too much for him to fucking take. While he often felt your presence with you on the comm line during the actual mission, and the occasional phone call on long nights in between, it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t enough.

He was ready to go home.

The flight itself was fine, though dealing with civilians and the tiring experience of a long-ass flight made him even more antsy to land. Because even when they got to JFK, he still had a hired car waiting for him to drive him from the airport to get to Scarsdale, and to the apartment he shared with you. It had already been almost a year of you two living there, in a three-bedroom spanning two floors.

Ben hadn’t thought he would get used to such a small place, but it was all right. It had become his home, far more than the penthouses and party mansions ever were, at least.

When he finally got home and unlocked the front door of the apartment, he stepped into darkness. All the lights were off.

Odd, he thought. He called your name while he shut the door behind him, then flicked on the foyer light. He realized then that he hadn’t seen your car in the driveway. Were you still working? It wasn’t unlike you to get caught up with the paperwork and other logistics after a case.

After a quick look around of each room, from the kitchen to the living room, Ben knew you hadn’t come home yet. A frown marred his face.

He went upstairs and entered the bedroom next. He unclipped his wrist guards and took his gloves off first, followed by loosening the collar of his supe suit. The bed was made, untouched since this morning, he was sure.

Then he noticed the scrap of paper resting on his pillow. He picked it up, and his brows furrowed as he read.

By the time you find me, she’ll wish she was dead.

Ben called Grace Mallory first.

When she didn’t answer, he called Butcher next. Ben’s hand shook the slightest bit while holding the phone up to his ear.

“Evenin’, guv,” Butcher answered with a tired sigh. “What’s this about—”

“We have a fucking problem,” Ben growled.

Ben pushed the limits of his Mercedes Benz while driving himself to Supe Affairs.

The others met him there in a conference room, except for Grace, who was on an active case at the moment. There Hughie and Frenchie tapped into the S.A. security footage on their laptops. 

They eventually found you getting into your car in the S.A. garage, about four hours ago. Then two later, the street cameras picked you up somewhere in the Village. Ben recognized the street. 

You probably had dinner with your friend Yvette and her family, but you intended to make it home on time to meet Ben when you left around 9:00 p.m. 

You had parallel parked at a meter on the street. According to the footage, it looked quiet and empty when you headed back to your car. 

You were stopped by someone before you could get the driver’s side door open. It looked like a man’s height and build; he grabbed you by the shoulder and threw a punch you managed to dodge.

You put up a good fight, but you were eventually knocked out with what looked to be a crowbar, at first glance. When Hughie zoomed in, it was actually a black baton. Ben watched it all with a deepening frown. Anger churned in his gut and ignited his blood as he watched your unconscious body being hauled into a black SUV.

“That looks military-issued,” M.M. said, pointing at the baton that the suspect used to hit you.

Butcher nodded, and also noted the man’s fighting style. “That’s a professional.”

“He would have to be, to take her out,” M.M. said, glancing at Ben. “And the timing. They knew you were coming home. That note was personal, besides the fact that they were casing your place…they’ve probably been watching both of you, waiting for the chance to get the jump on you.”

“The question,” Butcher said, “is who the fuck would wanna tangle with Soldier Boy that badly?”   

“Shit. That’s a laundry list, isn’t it?” Hughie said. M.M.’s glance told him to shut the fuck up.

Ben was silent, but his fury was mounting. His head turned sharply to Butcher.

“Get Mallory on the line. Now,” he barked. When no one moved quick enough for him, his temper snapped at its thinly held leash.

“I said right fucking now!”

Slowly you blinked your eyes open. For a moment, you were seeing in double vision. It soon cleared up to reveal dark, damp, musty surroundings.

It smelled familiar; after that mission to find and subdue Sapphire a couple of months ago, you’d recognize a New York sewer anywhere.

Fuuucking shit, you thought with a groan. Your head was aching. You felt a trickle of blood down the side of your neck, and you found yourself in a familiar position—seated on a metal chair with your hands secured behind your back. Your restraints felt like zip ties.

“You finally with us, sweetheart?” asked a man. His voice was smooth and commanding.

“Jackson, I don’t know about this,” whispered someone else. Another man, though he sounded slightly younger, reminding you of Hughie.

“Shut the fuck up, Tommy,” Jackson snapped.

At least you had a name. He stepped into the light that came from a couple of small lanterns. One was propped on top of a bucket by the wall. The other was on a plastic fold out table that you saw a few feet beside you.

The man who stepped into your line of vision was tall, maybe around Ben’s height, if just shy of his build. He was blonde, just like his skinnier friend. They shared some notable facial features and coloring, but while Jackson’s eyes were dark brown and self-assured, the younger man’s were blue and apprehensive. If you had to guess, they looked like brothers.

“Nice digs,” you remarked, gesturing with your gaze at your surroundings.

Jackson rose a brow, crossing his arms.

“You’re taking all this pretty well,” he said. 

You huffed humorlessly.

“This isn’t exactly my first kidnapping,” you said.

He quirked his head and drew closer.   

“All right. Well, since we’re on the clock, let me tell you why you’re here,” he said. He bent down in front of you so that his face was level with yours. “I need you, sweetheart. You’re going to tell me how to bring down Soldier Boy. How to kill him. How to end him. Then maybe, I’ll let you go without gouging out those pretty eyes.”

You stared back at Jackson with an expression that didn’t change.

Then you spat in his face.

And you expected the hard, back-handed slap that made your head whip to the side. It rattled you for a moment as you caught your breath, but you recovered enough to lean back in your seat. Your eyes met Jackson’s directly after he wiped his face with his shirt. “Tommy” stood off to the side behind his partner. He’d looked away when you were hit.

You focused on the other man, Jackson. He was wearing black cargo pants to match his boots, and a belt with a gun on his hip. He carried himself like a trained killer.

“Military, government agency, or private sector?” you asked.

His head tilted. He studied you, just like you were studying him.

“None of the above really,” he said. “Not anymore.”

He walked over to the fold out table, where he grabbed a black bag and unzipped it. A flash of silver gleamed as he pulled out one sharp instrument after the next. You had to hide your apprehension, and fear that made your insides tremble.

He glanced over at you.

“Let’s get started,” he said.

Hours later, you were teetering on the edge of consciousness.

After the last hit, you spat a wad of phlegm and blood onto Jackson’s shoes. He rotated the ache out of his hand. He looked down at you through furrowed brows.

“Damn, bitch,” he said, catching his breath. “You can take a hit. I’ll give you that.” 

“My dad was a Marine, numb nuts,” you managed to reply, through labored breaths. “He used to hit harder with his open hand than all the strength in that limp-dick wrist of yours.” 

Jackson smirked. “Christ. Daddy issues, huh? Why doesn’t that surprise me.” 

You gave him a droll look. Again, to cover your fear, because you weren’t willing to give him the satisfaction of seeing it.

Angered and frustrated by that defiance, he reached down and grabbed your neck and jaw with one hand. You winced at the force of his grip, but when he started squeezing, this was the one thing that made you truly whimper. You tried not to think about the ghost of your father’s hand around your neck.

“Don’t you get it, asshole?” you gritted out while struggling for breath. “You can’t kill him. No one can. Stronger, smarter people than you have tried.” 

Moments ticked by while Jackson contemplated your words. 

Then he released you. You sucked in gulps of air and tried not to cough out a lung.

“Maybe,” he said. “But Soldier Boy’s got a weakness. If anyone knows it, I’ve got a feeling it’s you.” 

You can’t say anything. You can’t, you can’t, you can’t. 

That had been your mantra for every minute you had spent in this hole. You shook your head.

“Look, Jackson.” You sucked in another breath to steady yourself, and blink a drip of blood out of your eyes. “He’s going to kill you. You and your brother. Take your family and run, while you’ve still got a chance.” 

“…You know what? You’re probably right,” Jackson said, scratching the back of his head with his crimson-stained hand. “But I just realized something.”

He leaned down again, until he was level with your face.

“When he finds you, drowned in your own goddamn blood…I think the look on his face might just be enough for me.”

Your eyes widened. 

It took days. Three painful days to pick up the threads, which led closer to home than anyone could’ve anticipated. 

Grace Mallory put pressure across the chain of command, and even reached out to the FBI for assistance. An alert email finally came to her phone, and she realized that an agent on her own payroll had been flagged for never reporting back for his debriefing on a reconnaissance mission.

That agent was Jackson Rawlins.

The further she read into his file, the worse her frown became. She immediately sent the lead to Ben, Butcher, and the rest of the team to run down. For the first time in years, Grace actually prayed.

She prayed that they would reach you in time. It wasn’t until then that she realized it; she hadn’t thought of you as a cog in her system for some time now—not even as leverage against Soldier Boy. She was genuinely concerned about you.

Grace worried that she was setting herself up for disappointment…if it was too late. However, she also worried about what would happen if you didn’t survive. She considered how Ben might react, with that nuclear power within him that he was still learning to control. The consequences of this mission could very well be catastrophic. 

You were losing track of time in this windowless pit. You knew it had been days, but you didn’t remember how many. The cellar was cold, and the way sound and air traveled, it felt like you were underground. It certainly smelled like it—damp and gross. It made you certain this was a sewer.

Now this is Satan’s ass crack, you thought. You winced at the pain that radiated…pretty much everywhere. Blood had dried from various lacerations across your face, neck, chest, and arms, and bruises were dark against your skin.

Your blouse was in tatters, and your jeans had bleeding rips as well, though at least he’d kept your ankle boots on. You were too weak even for hunger. And a large, heavy chain attached to manacles on your wrists had replaced the zip ties. One end of the chain was fastened between the wall and a line of plumbing.

Footsteps echoed down the hall behind you. You closed your eyes and steeled yourself.

“Are we actually gonna have a conversation today?” Jackson asked.

“Depends,” you replied, your voice dry and coarse. “Are you going to tell me why you hate Ben so much?”

An angry sigh escaped Jackson’s lips. He pointed up in frustration.

“Ben.” Jackson rolled and cracked his neck, like just the mention of your boyfriend’s real name was disgusting to this man.

“You talk about him like he’s a real fucking person. Not like the animal supe he is,” he said.

“He is a person,” you said, both in exhaustion, and in pain. “And he’s trying to be better. Look, he’s done terrible things. I’m not saying he hasn’t. I don’t know what he’s done to you in the past, but—”

Jackson shut you up with a sharp backhand. It made black spots encroach on your vision as you caught your breath.

You noticed his brother Tom come in the room as well, to watch and worry. He didn’t seem comfortable with this way of things. He looked like a civilian. Maybe you could use that to your advantage…

But you lost track of thought after that, when Jackson started in on you with either his hands, or the creativity of the instruments on the table nearby. 

You tried to block out the pain, along with his questions about Ben. If you couldn’t talk about him, you couldn’t let yourself think about him. So you couldn’t say anything.

Not about the Novichok nerve agent, one of the few things that had been found to incapacitate him. Not his imprisonment by Vought or the S.A.—nothing that your captor could one day use against Ben.

You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.

Even though all you wanted right now was him. 

Ben, please…

You zoned in and out of consciousness from there.

When you next registered being awake, mercifully, you were left alone. You raised your head when Tom came to blot at least some of your wounds and give you water. You’d only eaten small pieces of protein bars for days. 

“I’m sorry,” Tom whispered.

“Why does he want Ben?” you wheezed. “Why are you going along with this if you’re so damn sorry?”

Tom looked up at you with pain and grief in his blue eyes. He sighed and dragged a nearby chair from the table. He sat beside you while he fed you half a protein bar. It was a struggle to even get the pieces down.

“Last year,” said Tom, clearing his throat. “I lived in the building that Soldier Boy blew up when he got back from…wherever the Russians had him.”

Your eyes widened as you processed that. “You…but you made it out. Why—”

“I wasn’t home. I was at work,” Tom said. His voice was pained as his eyes became red and glassy. “Our mom wasn’t so lucky.”

You sighed, closing your eyes.

“She was retired, and I was taking care of her,” Tom said. He wiped at his eyes and sniffed. “Jackson wasn’t here. He was on a mission in Colombia. Told me he was cleaning up some cartel shit.”

At that, you had a sneaking suspicion that coiled in your gut. Ben had left a bit of a mess when he peaced out of Colombia, with an entire plane filled with drugs and weapons from whatever cartel he’d infiltrated. (In his words, he’d cut the head off the snake.)

Grace told you she’d sent a team in to handle that mess…

“Your brother—who does he work for?” you asked. Though you had a feeling you knew the answer.

Tom seemed to read your understanding, and his face turned grim.

“The CIA,” he said.

Fuck, you grimaced. So not only had Ben been responsible for their mother’s death, but Jackson had been part of the team that cleaned up his mess in South America. It explained why Jackson was somehow able to find your information; Supe Affairs had become a subsect of the CIA, thanks to Grace. 

“I didn’t know he was planning this. I swear to God. All he said was that he had a way to get at Soldier Boy,” Tom said. You let out a deep breath.

“I’m sorry for your loss. I really am,” you said. Tears welled up hot in your eyes. “But you need to let me go. For your own safety, believe me.”

You saw the guilt, the sadness, the regret on Tom’s face. The brief indecision was overtaken when he glanced down the hall. You knew then that he was more afraid of his own brother than he was willing to do the right thing.

Your tears spilled over, though you tried to breathe through it. You’d tried to save them for when you were alone, those seldom few, cold hours, but you were reaching your breaking point.

“Okay, before I go, do you have to use the bathroom?” Tom asked. There was a bucket in the corner, and Jackson preferred it away from the chair. It was the only time Tom was allowed to unchain you from the wall and let you stretch your legs.

Letting out an exhausted sigh, you nodded in agreement. It was humiliating to know you were going to have to do this yet again, in a bucket, with company. With the manacles still on your wrists, he brought you over to the “special” corner.

Tom sighed and looked away to give you some semblance of privacy.

That was when you used every scrap of energy you had left in you.

You grabbed the chain and yanked it out of his hands long enough to wrap it around his neck from behind. You cut off his sounds of strain and kicked out his knees, so he was forced to kneel on the ground.

You wrapped the rest of the chain around your thigh, giving you the leverage you needed to tighten your grip and choke him out, until he was unconscious. His body fell to the side, and you heaved for breath. Once again, there were black spots in your vision, but you did your best to blink them away.

Now set with determination, you made your way to the plastic table and searched for the key to your chains. After the manacles were unlocked, you rubbed at your raw wrists and rapidly scanned the room. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you calculated which way you should go to try and escape.

There were three possibilities in this clearing under the sewer: left, right, or straight ahead. Every time Tom or Jackson emerged, it sounded like it was behind you. The chair was facing to the east, which meant you had to take the left tunnel.

You ran in that direction and tried to find a metal ladder that would take you to whatever manhole cover these guys had detached. Someone couldn’t just open up any of those iron plates without the right tools, from the inside or the outside.

You walked as fast as you could manage, even though your entire body protested in pain. Then finally, you saw a black duffel bag lying on the ground, against the wall. Next to it was a metal ladder that went all the way up to the top.

“Jackson, don’t!”

You heard Tom’s voice, but you felt the presence behind you too late. Jackson hit you in the back of the head with that damn baton, so hard that even he grimaced at how the sound echoed on the walls. You crumpled to the ground.

Jackson stood over you with a grim set to his face. He turned to his brother with a shake of his head.

“She’s a walking welt, and you couldn’t handle her?” he said.

“This is too much,” Tom said in worry. He bent down and held two fingers to your neck. He still felt a pulse, at least, but when he felt behind your head, he found blood. His hand shook as he stared at it.

“If you didn’t want in on this, you should’ve said so from the beginning,” said Jackson. He spun the baton in his hand and clipped the hilt to his belt, from a small metal loop on the end of it.

“You didn’t say anything about…about this!” Tom argued. He cleaned your blood off on his jacket.

Jackson regarded his brother with disappointment, and he hefted you up into his arms. Tom followed him back to their setup with your makeshift prison. There Jackson left you lying on the ground, and chained you back up by your wrists for good measure. He then literally and figuratively wiped his hands of you.

“Come on, we’re leaving,” he said. “For good this time.”

Tom looked at you, then his brother in shock. There was even emotion in his eyes.   

“We’re leaving her to die,” he said, his voice unsteady. He knew then, that their mother wouldn't have wanted this in her name. If she saw both of them now, she wouldn't recognize them.

Jackson grabbed his younger brother where his neck met his shoulder. An iron grip.

“And what do you think Soldier Boy is going to do if he finds us?” Jackson asked. His gaze encouraged Tom to explore that reality for a moment.

Jackson nodded at your unconscious form. “Trust me, that bitch was never going to talk. But this is almost better.”

It wasn’t right, Tom thought. He knew it, deep in his heart, but he wasn’t strong like his brother, or even like you.

That was when they heard it. The rumble of engines dying and tires rolling overhead, dislodging a few stray pebbles and dust from the ceiling. Jackson’s eyes widened. 

“Fuck!” he muttered. “All right, let’s go.”

Jackson forced his younger brother to leave the sewer with him, and leave you chained up on the floor.

Ben, Butcher, M.M., and Frenchie had done much of the legwork in tracking down Jackson Rawlins and his brother Tom (with help from Annie, Kimiko, and Hughie of course). Frenchie had found your likely location with a powerful thermal scanner, courtesy of Grace.

Now, they’d driven up to the wide alley in the city and blocked off all the exits on the block. Ben was the first to get his boots on the ground and stride toward the point of entry, where according to Frenchie’s scanners, more than one body was holed up in the sewer. He held his shield at his side and at the ready when the manhole cover loosened, and slid open.

A small gas bomb rolled out towards his feet, but it was just tear gas, not the kind of thing that could actually affect him. Ben picked up the little round ball of metal and crushed it in his hand. While the rest of the team dove for the oxygen masks stored in the car, Ben stalked forward.

Seeing the silhouette of a man, Ben threw his shield hard enough to rattle a supe.

Jackson Rawlins was thrown clean onto his back with a force that stole the breath from his lungs, even through his gas mask. It also broke half a dozen ribs. Ben was soon bearing on top of him and ripping off the mask.

Jackson cried out as remnants of the tear gas seared his eyes.

“Got us a runner!” Butcher shouted. He intercepted and grabbed up a second man who tried to escape. Tom Rawlins wasn’t the threat, but he still wasn’t going free. M.M. and Frenchie also dove down into the sewer to try and find you after they got their gas masks on.

Meanwhile, Ben hauled Jackson up by his neck and walked him back until he hit the brick wall beside a nail salon. Jackson grunted in pain. Every breath he took was now agonizing, thanks to his now battered and broken ribs.

“Where is she?” Ben demanded.

Jackson actually laughed in his face, despite his now bloodshot eyes.

“All you fucking supes are the same,” he said. “But you…you’re the worst. Quite literally, the original asshole. And what does the government do? What does the world do? Gives you a pass on decades of indiscretions, fuck ups, and straight up murder.” 

Ben didn’t outwardly react, but he knew what Jackson’s problem was. He knew he killed the man’s family. Collateral damage—something that had caused Ben more than one argument with you in the past.

But he didn’t care.

He didn’t care, because all he could see in his mind’s eye was a metal bat hitting the back of your head and knocking you clean out. He saw you being taken against your will. Taken from him. And that, he couldn’t abide.

“Where. Is she?” Ben said, as his grip flexed around the other man’s neck. It would be easy. Easier than snapping a toothpick. And he warned, “Don’t make me fucking repeat myself.”

“Dead, probably,” Jackson spat, despite his red and bleary eyes. “Real tough bitch. I see why you’re fucking her…I had me a little taste myself.”

In that moment, Ben couldn’t compute.

His green eyes widened. His breath stilled.

Then his jaw clenched so tight that his teeth were grinding. A fire in his blood and behind his eyes, and fury that burned hot in his chest, almost giving it that nuclear glow.

His hand tightened and choked any salacious words Jackson might’ve spewed out next.

“He didn’t!” Tom shouted out. He was being restrained by Butcher. Ben glanced at them out of the corner of his eye.  

“He didn’t touch her. Not like that,” Tom said. He looked sincere.  

“Shut the fuck up, Tommy,” said his older brother. 

It earned Ben’s attention back. Jackson had the look of a man who knew he was going to die either way.

Ben’s lips curled into a sneer. He took the man’s head with both hands, and slowly crushed his skull. The scream echoed between Ben’s ears, but he was only satisfied when Jackson’s lifeless body dropped at his feet.

He turned to the other Rawlins next.

Tom had screamed as well to watch his brother’s life ended before his eyes. He now stared straight into Soldier Boy’s, pleading wordlessly for his own life. Ben started toward him.

“Please,” Tom said. He tried twisting away from Butcher, who held firm to the man’s arm. The Brit knew all too well, the rage that Ben had in his blood.

“Ben,” Annie tried, and she even stepped forward. Butcher held a hand out against her with a knowing look. It wouldn’t be wise to stand in the way.

“Hey!” M.M. shouted up from down the open hatch of the sewer. “We found her! Need help getting her loose.”

Ben paused in his steps. Tom was shaking, lips trembling, petrified.

Tilting his head, Ben let out a subtle breath through his nose. He began to turn back toward the sewer.

At the last moment, however, he drew his gun and shot Tom Rawlins between the eyes. The man was dead before he hit the ground.

Annie and Hughie flinched, but Butcher and Kimiko weren’t surprised in the least.

Meanwhile, Ben made his way back towards M.M.’s voice, and into the sewer. He heard M.M. and Frenchie arguing about first aid and head wounds, the further in he went. Ben’s dark mood blackened even more along the way.

Once he reached them, he also reached you, held in M.M.’s arms as he cradled your head.

You were unconscious with your wrists locked into heavy chains. The furrow between Ben’s brows deepened, but he got down to his knees beside you and first, broke your chains. He guided you out of M.M.’s arms and into his own, making sure to support your head. Blood was already staining his half-glove and fingers.

It was then that he noticed the small crimson pool lying where your body had been, likely from the wound he could feel at the back of your head. Ben’s mouth trembled the slightest bit, mostly in anger as he drew himself back onto his feet. Your body was littered with bruises, cuts both shallow and deep made by what looked like a blade, and God knew what else.

“I had me a little taste myself,” Jackson had taunted.

No, Ben internally shook that thought from his mind. No, you hadn’t been touched like that, at least, according to the sniveling, cock-sucking brother.

But can you trust that little cunt’s word?

Ben briefly closed his eyes, pressing his lips to your forehead. He continued walking down the hall and towards the light and fresh air of the world above.

You’re gonna be just fine, he promised you, if just within the safety of his mind.

Yeah, you would be all right.

He was going to make sure of it.

AN: 🫣 I'm sorry...BUT, I can promise it will get better (eventually). First, it's going to get worse.

Next Time:

It was a slow process, and it hurt, but you managed to turn your head. You saw a man sitting in the corner with a laptop balanced on his lap. He typed with two fingers at a time, which reminded you of your grandfather. His brown hair fell over his furrowed brows, but his beard was well trimmed.

His head soon raised, possibly feeling the weight of your gaze. His eyes widened a fraction, and he hastily closed the laptop and set it down on his seat before he went to you. You frowned when he came to sit at your bedside, and even touched your cheek with a gentle hand.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was deep and smooth. “How’re you feeling?”

You didn’t have the energy to lean away from his hand, but you did give him a look of weary confusion.

“I…I don’t…who are you?” you asked.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2

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[yellowbrokenblue]

„Just… Pretend.”

summary: in which harry convinces you to spend your summer in cape cod with his parents as his ‘girlfriend.’ but everything is just pretend, your not actually his girlfriend and you never have wanted to be his girlfriend, you’ve never seen him as more than harry styles, the singer… but by the end of the summer will that change?

tropes (so far) : fake dating

part one

“It’s just for one weekend.” He pleaded, “Then you can go back to hating me. You never even have to talk to me again, I don’t care.”

You sigh, your head falling backwards with a groan. You did not want to do this at all, but he’d been persistently asking you for days.

“C’mon, please?”

You roll your eyes, “You’re on a date with a new girl every week, I’m sure any of them would be up for it.”

“I can’t just take anyone to my parent’s place.”

“Why not? Or how about you just tell them you’re not seeing anyone right now? They won’t care.”

“I just need you to come, alright? I’ll owe you one, I promise.”

“Why me? There’s a million other people you could take, besides I’ve already met your parents at a show, they’ll never believe we’re seeing each other.”

“And they really liked you!”

“There’ll be a ton of other people that they like too, Harry. Choose anyone else.”

“I can’t.” He sighs.

“You can.”

“I can’t.” He repeats.

You look at him with tired eyes, awaiting his explanation. You’d been over this a hundred times, you had no interest in pretending to be his girlfriend while he visited his parents over the summer.

“I already told them we’re together.” He says quietly, avoiding eye contact.

“What?” You scoff, “You’ve gotta be joking.”

“They just… They met you at the show, and they really did seem to like you, and they kept going on and on about how they want me to find someone who makes me happy and stuff and I shut them up by saying we’re together…”

“You’re unbelievable.” You say, annoyed.!

The fact he’d been telling his parents ridiculous lies without even telling you about it, when said lies actually involved you had pissed you off.

Harry’s parents were lovely, and a producer on his latest album you’d met them a couple times at shows- Especially during the LA residence where you and his parents sat through the concerts in a VIP booth. His mum was lovely, always smiling and knew every single lyric. She told you that she was in Harry’s 0.5% of top listeners on Spotify last year.

You thought that was cute.


You couldn’t relate though, 5 Seconds of Summer were your top Spotify artist- Harry could never find out about that.

“They’ve been asking for me to take you to the beach house for months-“

“Months?!” You interrupt, “How long have you been telling them we’re together?”

He shrugged, “Since the end of the Forum residency?”

“Harry that was SIX months ago!” You yell, “I can’t pretend to be in a six month relationship with you, that’s ridiculous.”

He sits down on the couch, hugging a pillow.

“Yes you can. You practically know everything about me already. We spent every day of the tour together.”

“Everything about you in a career aspect.”

“Everything in general.” Harry corrects, “Sometimes I think you know more about me than I do.”

“I don’t. You’re just saying this because you’re convincing yourself that this ridiculous idea will actually work.”

“Name my first pet.”

“What?” You question. He was being stupid. There is no way you’d ever be able to spend two weeks with his parents over the summer, it was never going to work. It was a recipe for disaster.

“C’mon. You know the answer.”

He just kept staring at you. He wasn’t giving up. The longer you stayed silent the more intense his stare got. When he began to raise his eyebrows you’d given up.

“Max.” You mutter quietly, unimpressed with this whole game he was playing.

“And what am I allergic to?”

“Marshmallows, but you eat them anyway.”

Harry was grinning, and it was pissing you off. He was winning and he knew it.

“My favourite Christmas song?”

You rolled your eyes, “Christmas lights by Coldplay, but you tell everyone that it’s Merry Christmas Everyone because it’s a classic.”

Harry was giving you a ‘I told you so’ look. He wasn’t going to quit until you agreed to pretend to be his girlfriend.

You sigh softly, “Even if I agree to this… It could he really damaging for my career.”

“No one will find out.” His face was more serious now, and you could tell from the way he was looking at you that he meant it, “I’ll make sure of that.”

“But if if does-”

“It won’t.”

“But if it does, because there’s always a chance no matter what you think, then everyone will only think I got hired to tour manage because we’re ‘sleeping together.’” You say, using air quotes, just to further elaborate that this was all fake.

Harry had already got his grammy, he was at the peak of his career he’d be fine no matter what happened. But you were a female music producer in a male dominated industry, if people think you were only hired for this album because you’re fucking the singer- your career was over.

“If people find out I’ll kill you.”

“Does this mean you’re gonna agree?”

You nod, reluctantly.

“Thank you!” He jumps out of his chair, “I swear I’ll make it up to you, thank you so much.”

— — —

If you were in Harry’s position you’d be vigilant of everything, everyone, everywhere. You’d be paranoid of someone jumping through your bedroom window while you were asleep. But Harry was oddly calm. Maybe he was just like that. His lips were formed almost in a smile while he slept, and his eyes were moving under his eyelids- probably from a dream he was having. He wasn’t calm very often- recently he’d been very on edge and anxious about everything, it was nice to see him look so peaceful. You hoped for that sort of peace someday soon.

You had been in the studio going on six hours, and when he’d taken a break from recording so you could go over the tracks he’d managed to fall asleep in that short period of time.

You let him sleep while you packed up the equipment, putting things back into their assigned places, and didn’t bother waking him up until you were 100% ready to go.

“Harry,” You said softly, shaking his shoulder lightly, “Harry we gotta go.”

His eyes opened and he blinked a few times to adjust himself to the light.

“Huh?”

“We only had the studio booked until six, we gotta go.”

“Oh,” He sat up, stretching his arms and cracking his neck that had went into a cramp, “Sorry, don’t even remember falling asleep to be honest.”

“Don’t worry about it,” You shrug, “We got enough done today anyways. You deserve a rest.”

There were only three days left until the day Harry had said you were leaving for his parents place, and you had skipped over the subject every time he’d tried to bring it up. You didn’t really want to think about it because you were dreading it so badly.

“I’ll give you a ride home.” Harry said as you left the studio building.

“No, it’s alright.” You say, “I’ll just get an Uber.”

Harry glared at you, “Y/N, just get in the car.”

You glare back. But it had been a long day so getting a free lift wasn’t so bad.

“So.” He said, starting the car. “We gotta go over some things.”

“About the album?” You play dumb.

“… No.” He rolls his eyes, “Stop pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“I’m not pretending.”

“Love, you gotta tell me some stuff about you. My parents are gonna ask me shit and I don’t have a clue what to tell them.”

You groan. You should’ve stuck to your gut and got an Uber.

“Like what.”

He shrugs, “What’s your favourite colour?”

“Purple.” You reply.

“Mines is blue.”

“I know,” You reply.

“What’s your favourite song?” He asked.

You laughed to yourself a little.

“Jet black heart,” You grin, knowing you’d get some sort of reaction out of this answer, “By 5 Seconds of Summer.”

“5 Seconds of Summer?” Harry scoffs, “They’re punks!”

You roll their eyes, “They turned to pop music and half of them are married, they’re hardly punks.”

“You know one of them dated my sister, right?” Harry groaned.

“Yep,” You grin, “And wrote a banging tune about it as well.”

“Don’t remind me.” He muttered.

“Look, you asked me a question and I gave you an honest answer. You can’t complain.”

“I know, I know.” Harry said, “You got any exes?”

You raise your eyebrows, “What?”

“This is the kind of stuff I need to know! Like I dunno if I’m your first boyfriend and all that.”

“Harry… I’m 24 years old. You’re not my first boyfriend.”

You said it almost as if he was your boyfriend. It sent a chill down your spine. This was going to be a long few weeks.

“Good to know.” He said.

He dropped you off outside your apartment.

“I guess the next time I see you will be for when we’re leaving, yeah?”

You nod. There was no studio session booked until after his vacation to Cape Cod, where his families beach house was, so he was right. The next time you see him would be at the airport.

“Flights at seven.” He says.

“Got it.”

The next few weeks were going to be hell.

part two coming soon…

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[moonstruckme]

Hello lovely!!

I very humbly request decorating the christmas tree with peter and for some mysterious reason he keeps finding reasons to kiss you

the holidays and peter, a perfect combo

-🔮

Hi gorgeous, thanks for requesting!!

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 982 words

“Peter.” You’re doing your best to sound firm, but it’s an impossible task to keep the laughter from your tone. “Be careful.” 

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Peter holds up the ornament he’s just knocked off the tree, placing it back in its spot. “I’ve got it, babe, don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to your stuff.” 

“That one’s yours,” you remind him. “May got it for you last year, and she’ll totally know if you break it.” 

Peter makes a sheepish face, but the facade breaks as soon as you laugh. He surges forward to kiss you, your smiles a mirror. He tastes like almonds. 

“You’ve been eating my cookies,” you accuse. 

“They’re really good when they’re warm.” 

“Peter!” You try to push him off you, but he bands an arm around your waist, freakishly strong. You’re forced to make your complaint against his lips. “Those are for my coworkers.” 

“I’ll leave enough for them.” 

“What, like two each?” 

“Maybe three. I might be feeling generous. Season of giving and all.” 

You scoff, setting your hands on his chest to push him off. “You’re awful,” you say, no small amount of fondness seeping into your tone, “and I know exactly why.” You head for Peter’s ipod, sitting in a mug to amplify sound. “It’s this song, it makes you feral.” 

Peter tracks your trajectory and chases after you, snagging you by your belt loop. “Whoa, whoa, let’s not be so hasty. This is the song of our city!” 

You give him a deadpan look. The song of your city has been on repeat for nearly a half hour now. “We’re not celebrating Christmas in Harlem.” 

“Queens is close enough!” 

“Sorry.” You reach over, pressing skip despite Peter’s hold on you. 

He groans, releasing you. 

“Now can we get back on task?” You give your half-bare tree a pointed look. You’ve been trying to decorate for a couple of hours now, and your boyfriend (adhd personified, bless him) keeps getting sidetracked. 

But Peter’s listening to the intro of the new song, a smile unfurling across his sweet face. He dances his way over to the tree, singing the lyrics. 

Well, you think, at least he’s putting on ornaments. 

You join, and for a minute, you’re wonderfully productive. You join in on the duet, picking your favorite ornaments out of the box Peter had hauled out of the back of your coat closet and placing them delicately on the tree. It hasn’t snowed yet in New York, but you’re feeling so giddy with holiday cheer you’re thinking of going to the corner store after this for hot chocolate mix. 

When Peter whisks you away from the tree this time, you’re a bit more amenable to it, though you roll your eyes for show. He spins you across the living room, his hands warm around yours. He croons the lyrics to you, and you play along, batting your eyelashes up at him when he pulls you close to his chest. 

“The neighbors might think,” you sing in an overly coy voice. 

Peter’s overlaps with it at the end. “Baby, it’s bad out there.” 

“Say, what’s in this drink?” 

“No cab’s to be had out—whoa, this is kind of messed up, huh?” Your boyfriend’s eyebrows raise as he pays more attention to the lyrics. “Are they saying he roofied her?”

A laugh bubbles out of you. “You’ve never noticed?”

“Jesus.” Peter looks so shell-shocked you can’t help but run your hand along his stubble, a comforting touch for him and an indulgence for you as a bonus. He breaks from his reverie to smile down at you, kissing the tip of your nose. “Just for the record,” he says, dipping lower to capture your mouth, “that cider I made earlier was one hundred percent fruit, sweetheart. No alcohol here.” 

“Mmm, guess you won’t be getting any then.” 

“I don’t like what you’re implying.” You smile, and Peter kisses the corner of your mouth quickly. “I seem to do just fine without shady tactics.” 

“I don’t know—” you start to tease him further, but then he nips at your bottom lip and it’s pretty difficult to carry on speaking from there. 

Your hands have minds of their own, one gripping his shoulder while the other tunnels its fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. Peter all but sucks you in, devoting his attentions to your bottom lip while he pulls you closer by the waist. He gives the soft inside of your lip another gentle nibble, and the sound that escapes you is so humiliatingly needy that you force yourself to pull away. 

“No,” you say, trying to catch your breath. Then, more firmly, “No. We’re never gonna finish decorating tonight if we keep…doing this.” 

“We can finish tomorrow,” Peter suggests helpfully, one hand coasting up your back while he noses at your cheek. 

“Peter,” you chide, laughing. “We’ve already put it off for too long. At this rate, the tree’s going to die before we get ornaments on it.” 

Your boyfriend heaves a great sigh, pressing a final, consoling kiss to the skin beneath your eye before stepping away from you. “Alright, alright. We’ll get it done.” 

“Thank you,” you say weakly, tucking some string lights more securely into the tree’s branches while Peter stoops over the box. You do your best to calm your heart rate and try to get back into the flow of decorating. 

A second later, there’s a thwick, and you look up to see a green and red sprig webbed to the ceiling above your head.

You look over at Peter, who is also staring up at the mistletoe. 

“What?” His brow wrinkles, and he looks between you and the ceiling with his palms tipped guilelessly upward. “How’d that get there? Damn, sweetheart, I really wanted to stay on task, but you know, rules are rules, so…”

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: merry christmas eve and happy sunday! the promised andrei christmas fic (written extremely fast and edited even faster lol) title is from cher’s new christmas song which is a bop and a half so i suggest listening. going to be quiet the rest of the year to stockpile some writing, but happy new year everyone, i’ve been beyond grateful for the love my fics have gotten this year 😘

word count: 3.9k

tw: minimal smut, unprotected sex, brief fingering

summary: christmas eve at the svechnikov house is a chaotic but fun affair

“Mama?”

“Yes, my love?” You look up from the bowl of cookie dough batter. Evie was supposed to be helping after waking up at the ass crack of dawn, but the lure of rearranging all the decorations on the small tree in her room was more appealing. Your little perfectionist oldest daughter had shifted ornaments no less than fifteen times since you’d put the decorations up right after Thanksgiving.

Alina hops from foot to foot and you don’t necessarily love the sparkle of mischief in her eyes. “I catch Santa!”

You squint at her. “You’re catching Santa? Santa’s not a lizard in the backyard,” you say gently.

“I catch Santa,” Alina repeats. “Tonight! With presents!”

It clicks in your head - she means that she wants to stay up late and catch Santa leaving presents - and you laugh. “Oh, baby, you can’t stay up to see Santa, otherwise he doesn’t leave presents, remember?” You set the bowl of dough aside and scoop Alina up into your arms, sitting her down on the counter. She pouts at you, chubby little fingers reaching to play with the strings on your hoodie.

“Wanna see Santa,” she huffs. Her little pout is identical to Andrei’s and it makes you smile. You love seeing your husband’s traits and mannerisms in your girls.

You lean in to whisper conspiratorially, “guess what? Someone better than Santa is coming in a little bit.”

“Who?” Alina perks up, eyes going wide as she bounces a little. “Mickey Mouse?”

Another laugh bursts out of your mouth and Alina giggles with you, always ready to laugh with whoever’s around. “No, not Mickey Mouse,” you giggle, tickling her sides lightly and enjoying her childish laughter. “Babushka and dedushka!”

Alina shrieks happily and you catch her when she launches herself forward off the counter. The kids love when Elena and Igor come to visit and they don’t know that this trip will be extra long, as they’re staying for nearly three weeks. Once Andrei finishes his workout, he’s supposed to be going off to pick them up from the airport.

“Bring puppy?” She asks, little arms locked around your neck and wide awake considering it’s not even seven in the morning.

“No,” you shake your head, “they’re not bringing the puppy. He has to stay home where he has his bed and all his toys.”

That would be the last thing you need in the house - in-laws, three kids, a husband who’s traveling several days a week, and to add a dog on top of that? No, thank you.

“I share my toys,” she says sweetly.

You press a kiss to her cheek. “Yeah, you do share your toys with Evie and Kira. But puppy toys are different. Why don’t you go draw a picture to give Babushka when she gets here?”

Alina nods wildly and wiggles her way out of your arms and down your body before running off to the kid sized table you have set up in the den with all their craft supplies. She’ll be distracted for at least ten minutes, which gives you enough time to get the cookies on a baking tray and in the oven. Why you waited until Christmas Eve morning to make the cookies for Santa is a question for another day.

You’ve been awake since 4:30 already and your energy is starting to flag, so you make a quick mug of coffee before portioning out the sugar cookies and dipping them in the green and red sugar sprinkles. While you sip at the drink and finish the cookies with your other hand, your mind wanders to everything that has to get done today. There are a few more gifts that have to be wrapped, but for the most part you’d managed to get everything you and Andrei bought for the kids and his parents wrapped at night. You’d also wrapped all the gifts Elena and Igor had bought for the girls and had shipped directly to your house.

Dinner tonight is going to be chill and Elena had insisted on handling most of that, so you don’t worry too much about the menu. You’ll be helping her, since most of the recipes are from your childhood, but she loves cooking when she visits so you don’t mind letting her.

You decide that you’ll have Andrei take all three girls with him to the airport so you can have a minute to shower - hair wash and shaving included - without little hands knocking on the bathroom door.

Otherwise, you have to iron the girls’ outfits and tidy up the chaos before the girls hopefully go to sleep early so you and Andrei can set out the presents.

“Thinking hard?” Andrei’s teasing voice startles you out of your mental to-do list. You turn away from the counter and take him in with a smile. He’s sweaty from his workout, hair falling over his forehead that he swipes back with his free hand. Kira is on his hip, a giant four-toothed smile on her face. You nudge at her round cheeks with your knuckles, grinning back at her.

“Were you Papa’s workout buddy?” You ask her in a bubbly voice. “How’d he do?”

“Papa!” She yelps, smacking at Andrei’s chest with her hands and cuddling closer to his side. She plants a smacking kiss against his cheek, her favorite party trick to get adults coping over how cute she is.

Andrei kisses the top of her head and rests his cheek against the crown. “She’s a good cheerleader,” he laughs. And as if they practiced it, Kira waves her hands in an imitation of jazz hands. You laugh and kiss your youngest on the tip of her nose, making her giggle.

“Give me the baby and go shower,” you say, already taking Kira into your arms. She transfers easily, snuggling into your neck, one hand splayed over your chest. “I need you to take all three with you to the airport and you’re going to need to get going if you want to get your parents on time.”

He looks at the clock over the stove and frowns a little. “They don’t land until 9:30, plenty of time.”

“Yeah,” you nod, untangling your hair from Kira’s grip, “but you have to shower, the girls have to be changed and put in the car, and you have to drive to the airport. Time goes faster than you think, please just get everything going?”

Andrei nods and grips your chin in his hand to tilt your face up for a kiss. You melt a little, humming quietly. “Okay, solnyshka. We will go when everyone is ready. Do I need to pick anything else up?” He asks, tickling Kira’s back.

You shake your head, “just your parents. Next year they’re coming here earlier. None of this flying on Christmas Eve business.”

“I will tell them,” Andrei laughs before heading upstairs to shower.

Four hours later, after you’ve finished taking the cookies out of the oven, showered, and pulled together a quick little breakfast spread, Andrei’s car pulls back into the driveway. You pull open the front door with a huge smile on your face, laughing when Elena’s dragged into the house by Evie and Alina, Kira held on her grandmother’s hip. Andrei and Igor are back at the car, handling all the bags.

“Moya devushka,” Elena greets you with a warm smile and a tight hug, Kira squeaking and complaining when she’s caught in the middle of the two of you. “Ah, prosti, myshonok.” She kisses Kira’s head.

“Mama!” Evie dances at your feet, tugging on your sweater. “Babushka said she’s staying forever!”

“Mid-January, at least,” Elena shares a smile with you, helping you usher the girls inside. Kira clings to her like a koala and you love how much the girls love their grandparents.

Evie widens her eyes - Andrei’s eyes - at her grandmother, “that’s like forever! And look,” she grabs Elena’s hand, pulling her to the living room, “r’member we showded you our tree on the phone? Now you can see in real!” Alina trails along after them, clutching the stuffed Grinch that she’d recently decided was her new best friend.

Confident that the girls are handled, you head back outside to help Andrei and Igor with the bags. Your father-in-law greets you with a kiss to the cheek and waves off your help, “you have strong men. Go with Elena and girls.”

You know from past experience that it’s basically useless to fight with him, so you grab up Elena’s oversized purse from the backseat of the car and run back inside with it, wearing a sneaky little smile, before Igor can chastise you. Andrei’s laughter follows you inside.

“Elena,” you call out, “do you want your purse or should I put it in your room?”

“Oh! Bring it here,” Elena looks over her shoulder at you from where she’s sitting on the ottoman, having been oohing and ahhing over the drawings the girls made for her. “I have surprises.”

You hand over the bag, talking over the girls’ excited squeals, “you shouldn’t have. It’s Christmas Eve.”

Elena waves a hand in the air at you and if it were anyone else, you’d be annoyed at the dismissive gesture. “Small things,” she explains, reaching into the bag and drawing out little toys and Russian candies for the girls. “These were your Papa’s favorite,” she explains, handing Evie a wrapped chocolate.

Andrei appears behind you and leans forward, snatching another candy out of his mother’s hand. “Still are,” he winks at the girls. He unwraps the chocolate and pops it in his mouth before giving you a quick kiss. “I’m going to clean out the car,” he gives Kira a faux-glare, “one of the myshonok spilled her Cheerios.”

“It was Kira,” Evie pipes up, chocolate smeared around her mouth. “She spilleded out the whole bag!”

Kira, recognizing her name, giggles and chants, “Mama! Papa!”

“Our messy little girl,” you ruffle her hair gently. “Not too much candy, okay? It’s still really early.”

You know you’re going to be ignored, but you have to say it if only to stave off the mom-guilt. With the girls distracted by their grandparents - Igor’s wandered in and is telling Alina a joke she surely doesn’t understand yet - and Andrei busy with the car outside, you take the opportunity to slip upstairs and finish wrapping the few gifts that had been delivered in the last few days.

When you come back downstairs after finishing up and taking a few extra minutes to just breathe in the relative quiet, everyone’s huddled around Elena’s phone FaceTiming with Geno and his family. Everyone chatting in rapid fire Russian, even your kids, and you smile. You love that the girls are fluent in Andrei’s native language and it’s good practice when they talk to his family. The girls giggle with their cousins and you pull out your phone to snap a candid shot before joining the call, waving to Geno and his wife.

You stand behind the couch, looping your arms around Andrei’s neck and resting your chin on his shoulder, just enjoying the lively conversation. You’ve learned some Russian over the years, but you’re nowhere close to fluent and once they all start talking so fast, you’re basically lost at sea.

Andrei leans his cheek against yours, holding out his hand while he talks to block Evie’s foot from hitting him in her attempt at showing off a cartwheel. She pouts at Andrei when he tells her to sit down - that you understand, at least - and Andrei huffs in exasperation when Elena turns right around and clearly reprimands him for stopping Evie. Your head is starting to swim a little from all the noise and you press a kiss to Andrei’s cheek before standing up and heading into the kitchen.

A dog barking joins the chaos and you know Geno’s brought Igor’s dog on the screen. The girls squeal with delight and you know this means you’re going to get a barrage of begging for a puppy.

“Mama,” Evie skips her way into the kitchen, “can we show Babu and Dedu Belle’s christmas?”

The call with Geno is either done or the girls had gotten bored of sitting in one place. You nod, knowing she means the Beauty and the Beast Christmas movie, and say, “sure, bunny. Ask Papa to put the movie on the TV.”

The movie keeps them occupied for a little bit, even after Elena leaves to come help you in the kitchen. You work quietly with your mother-in-law, chatting easily about the girls and the plans for their extended trip. You’ll have a more involved celebration on January 7th - when Christmas is traditionally celebrated in Russia - with Elena making dishes that Andrei remembers from his childhood. But with the girls being raised in America, it’s easier for them to have Christmas traditions in line with their classmates and friends.

You’re incorporating some of your holiday traditions - namely the relaxing aspects of the day, watching movies and spending time with the kids - and it’s nice to not have to worry about going super over the top. Tomorrow, Andrei and his dad will grill steaks and you’re making a few side dishes and Evie helped make some cookies during the week. More than anything, you’re just excited to see them get into Christmas and to make memories with them.

The girls go down for their naps and you and Elena get to finish prepping dinner. It’s a quiet rest of the day, until suddenly it’s after dinner and the girls are bathed and changed into their matching pajamas - little candy canes printed on a white background - and Alina’s chattering about catching Santa.

“Where did she even come up with that?” You ask Andrei, laughing a little. “She said it this morning too.”

“Ah,” he gives you a sheepish smile and you’re instantly on guard, “maybe I said something. They asked about Santa and magic.” He shrugs. “I don’t know how to explain so I said to stay up and see how he does it.”

You snort a laugh, filling Kira’s bottle and closing the lid. “Yeah, that’ll do it. Better hope she knocks out like usual or we’re going to have a long night.”

Andrei settles his hands on your hips and pulls you close, kissing you gently. “I think there was enough excitement today. They will sleep, solnyshka, don’t worry.”

Resting against his chest, you loop your arms around his lower back, excitement bubbles up in your chest for the girls to see their gifts. “I know I’ve said it before,” you mumble into his chest, “but thank you for agreeing to do two Christmases.”

“Anything for you, solnyshka,” he replies, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. And then you’re interrupted by the two older girls, running in and begging to set out the cookies for Santa. Andrei lets you go and lifts both girls up onto his hips, telling them, “make sure you pick good cookies. I think he likes ones with a lot of sprinkles.”

He winks at you over the girls’ heads and you suppress a little smile while you put the cookies the girls select on a special plate. The plate of cookies is carefully arranged on the coffee table, next to a glass of milk that Evie had very carefully carried from the kitchen.

“Can we watch Frosty, Mama?” Evie asks, giving you puppy eyes. She’s already tucked up on the couch in between her grandparents, one little hand wrapped around Elena’s forearm and the other clutching her Stormy plush - this version has a little Christmas sweater on and you’d tried to resist buying it but you’re weak when it comes to saying no sometimes. Alina’s already looking like she’ll pass out any second, head resting on Igor’s chest. Andrei has Kira in his arms, rocking from side to side so she’ll fall asleep.

“Okay,” you nod, “but as soon as Frosty’s over, it’s time for bed. Remember, Santa doesn’t come if you’re awake.”

Behind you, Andrei snorts a quiet little laugh and you know exactly why, but you refuse to dignify him with a response. You press your lips together to smother a laugh of your own.

“I’m not gonna sleep,” Evie informs you, apparently on Alina’s side with wanting to catch Santa. “I’m not even sleepy, Mama.”

Her sentence is punctuated by a huge yawn and you catch Elena’s eye, both of you muffling laughter.

“It would not be so bad,” Elena says, stroking Evie’s braided hair, “to close your eyes a little, zaychik.”

Evie wrinkles her nose and shakes her head, but you’re not surprised when all three girls and both grandparents are all passed out before Frosty even gets on the train to the North Pole. Andrei’s already brought Kira up to her crib and now he helps you bring up the older girls, lifting their combined weight easily into his arms while you wake up Elena and Igor.

“Jet lag,” they both laugh tiredly, Elena giving you and Andrei kisses on the cheek before retiring to their room. Igor offers to help bring the gifts down to the tree, but Andrei says something in Russian and his father nods, closing the door behind him.

You leave the doors to the girls’ bedrooms cracked a little, hoping you’ll hear them in case they get up. Tossing Andrei a Santa hat you’ve kept around just for this moment, you grin, “let’s get this done, Saint Nick.”

Andrei jams the hat on his head and gives you a crooked smirk. “Red is my color, solnyshka,” he teases and swats at your ass gently when he follows you to the second guest room that’s been serving as your gift and wrapping room.

Between the two of you, all the gifts are brought downstairs in less than an hour. Andrei likes to deposit the boxes randomly, leaving the huge box that you know is a Barbie Dream House for the girls to share right in the middle of everything. You shake your head and move it towards the back, making sure the presents are arranged nicely and there’s room to walk around all the furniture. You spot a handful of gifts labeled in Andrei’s messy scrawl and it makes you smile.

“Last one,” he says, setting a smaller box on top of the rest. “Time for bed?”

You survey the scene, skipping over the gifts and landing on the plate of cookies. “Oops, no! We almost forgot the cookies, take a bite out of one or two,” you suggest, knowing his massive sweet tooth. Andrei bites off half of a tree shaped cookie and holds out a second to you for you to bite.

A yawn escapes as you’re chewing and you cover your mouth immediately, mumbling an apology. Andrei scoffs and rests his hand on your lower back to guide you up the stairs, “let me take my zhena up to bed.” His voice is low and deep, warm despite the tiredness lacing his tone. The Santa hat is crooked on his head and it makes him look boyishly handsome. You recognize the look in his eyes and you add a little sway to your hips on your way back to your bedroom.

“Your parents are right down the hall,” you say quietly, even as you pull your pajama top over your head and push your pants and underwear to the floor.

Andrei raises an eyebrow at you, hungrily taking in the sight of your bare body. Your nipples tighten under his scrutiny and you feel a rush of warmth between your legs. He steps forward, crowding you until the backs of your knees hit the bed and you fall back, landing flat on the mattress with your legs splayed open. He leans one knee in between your legs and covers your body with his to kiss you deeply, sliding his tongue into your mouth. You moan softly when he pulls back, one of his hands sliding up your side, over your chest, to rest at the base of your throat, “guess you’ll have to be quiet, solnyshka. Can you do that for me?”

You nod, hooking your ankle around Andrei’s hip and pushing at the waistband of his joggers. “Get rid of these,” you demand and Andrei kisses you again before standing up and stripping, his clothes discarded to the floor in seconds.

“Remember,” Andrei grins, running his fingers over your sensitive clit, making your back arch off the bed and a sharp gasp escape your lips, “quiet.”

You bite down hard on your lower lip to prevent any noise from escaping as Andrei pumps his fingers inside of you, curling and flexing them until you’re dripping down the curve of your ass. “Andrei!” You can’t help but moan his name when his fingers press up against your g-spot.

“Ah,” he tuts, pulling his fingers from your cunt and covering your mouth with his palm. “Quiet.”

With his hand muffling your noises, Andrei kneels between your open legs, lining up his cock at your entrance and sliding into you with one smooth thrust. You whine behind his hand, clenching immediately around his length, legs coming up to wrap around his waist. Sparks dance behind your eyes, pleasure building low in your stomach.

Andrei fucks into you with a steady rhythm, his hand warm over your face. You roll your hips, meeting him thrust for thrust and before you realize it, your orgasm is building and cresting, flooding your veins with fire. You bite down on Andrei’s palm and he hisses, finishing inside of you with a few more thrusts.

Everything is hazy and sticky and you blink up at Andrei, trying to focus on something other than the selfish desire for a second orgasm. Andrei’s hand shifts from your mouth to cup your cheek. His eyes twinkle with mischievous glee and you brace yourself for whatever he’s about to say.

“Santa was not the only one coming tonight, huh?”

“Oh my god,” you burst out laughing, push at his chest, “I hate you.”

Andrei kisses you sweetly, laughing too. “Sorry, that was bad,” he climbs off the bed, pulling you to your feet so you can both shower quickly and he can change the sheets before you go to bed.

It feels like you’ve only gotten ten minutes of sleep - thanks to a pair of wandering hands on your husband - when your bedroom door bangs open and Evie’s screaming, “SANTA BROUGHT PRESENTS!” She jumps onto your bed, bouncing on her knees in between you and Andrei, shrieking with delight. Andrei catches her around the waist and pulls her into a big hug.

“You’re going to wake the whole house, zaychik,” he teases, giving you a sleepy smile over her head.

“Everyone’s awake! Babu’s makin’ coffee and she said I had to wait five whole minutes before I woke you and Mama,” Evie informs him. “Can we pleaseeeee go open presents now?” She throws her arms around Andrei’s neck and pokes her lip out in a pout until he nods and she scrambles off the bed, racing for the stairs and screeching, “Papa said we can open!”

You yawn and slump against Andrei’s side, grinning tiredly, “I wish we could bottle her energy.”

“I will work on it for your birthday,” Andrei teases, kissing you warmly. “Merry Christmas, solnyshka.”

“Merry Christ—“

“MAMA! PAPA! PRESENTS!”

[thisaintascenereviews]

What I’ve Been Listening To During Spooky Season: 2024 Edition

Ah, yes, Halloween season is upon us again. I started a tradition a few years ago where I’d talk about Halloween-themed or Halloween adjacent music, and it was pretty fun! I always love writing these types of pieces, because I try to listen to different stuff with a spooky theme each year, and this year is no different. Each year I’ll try to have a theme, and from looking back to see what theme I had last year, I didn’t even post one last year. I thought I did, but I was going to write about the last couple of albums from Clipping, an experimental rap group fronted by Daveed Diggs. I’ll still talk about those albums at some point, but I really thought I did that.

My first theme was spooky-themed rock and metal bands, Alice Cooper, Rob Zombie, and a few other bands, but I don’t want to repeat myself twice. Nonetheless, I wanted to bring this series back this year, especially when this year caught me by surprise. It all started by the first thing I’ll talk about here in a minute, but it made me remember a couple of other things I found last year and never spent that much time with, so I got a bit of an interesting theme with this year. What is that theme, you may be asking? Why, my theme is 1960s surf-rock, bubblegum pop, and novelty albums! The first album I’ll talk about isn’t from the 1960s, but it’s very much inspired by it, which is…

The Boulet Brothers - Halloween House Party EP

If you read the newest piece I wrote with my buddy Jake, where we cut it up about the newest stuff we’ve been enjoying over the last couple months, I talked about the drag competition show Dragula, which is Drag Race for horror fans, basically, that’s in its sixth season currently. It’s a show that’s more so about horror, versus standard drag, so there is a lot of VFX and makeup, as well as performing and acting. The show was created by legendary drag duo, The Boulet Brothers, and aside from Dragula, they also have veered into music. I haven’t liked much they’ve done, but this new Halloween EP they put out is a lot of fun. It’s very short, sweet, and to the point. There’s a 1960s surf-rock and doo-woo feel throughout it, and despite the EP having a similar sound, all the songs are catchy enough, and they manage to make each song interesting enough, considering the ideas they have to work with.

As a side bar, music that is specifically Halloween-themed, versus just being spooky in general, is way more niche than Christmas music. Fun fact: I’ve already got some Christmas music on deck, and I may talk about it in some way this year, although, despite already talking about a Christmas album last year in the vein of Seth MacFarlane and Liz Gillies’ newly released Christmas album, We Wish You The Merriest. Halloween music has its place, but at the same time, there aren’t many things to really talk about that hold up for a whole season. Christmas music, especially the more secular stuff, can be about wintertime, versus Halloween is mainly about monsters, trick or treating, and just being overall spooky and stuff. Music that is Halloween-adjacent holds up because it has more to talk about, versus specifically Halloween-themed music.

The Deadly Ones - It’s Monster Surfing Time

During the early 1960s, surf-rock was all the rage, especially with Dick Dale, Duane Eddy, The Beach Boys, The Trashmen, and many other acts having that sound, so what’s the most logical thing to do? Combine Halloween and surf-rock to make for one of the most niche and interesting albums I’ve heard in a long time. Released in 1964, It’s Monster Surfing Time is the only album from The Deadly Ones, and the kicker is, no one knows who played on this. They seem to be session musicians from their label, Vee-Jay, but that’s it. I couldn’t find much about this album at all, but in a way, the mystery is that much more fun. This is a mainly instrumental album that has surf-rock with some spooky sounds thrown in. It’s fun, despite being relatively generic, as well as niche as all hell, but I’ve been having some fun with it.

Bobby “Boris” Pickett - The Original Monster Mash

If there is one “essential” Halloween song, it has to be “Monster Mash.” While it’s a novelty hit that comes back for a bit each year, Pickett released a whole album in 1962 with a lot of Halloween songs. The album has its name for a funny reason — another artist released a cover version of the “Monster Mash,” and put out a whole record before Pickett could, hence the “original” moniker. I’ve been wanting to really sink my teeth into this album for the last couple of years, and I finally have. It’s been a fun little listen, despite the songs being of the novelty and cheesy variety. Most of these songs are in line with a popular trend of the time, not including the title track, but they take advantage of the popularity of certain things at that time, and it can be either pretty cheesy or pretty fun, depending on who you are. I might add this to my yearly rotation, at least for a bit, anyway.

The Munsters - S/T

The last thing I wanted to talk about is one of the most niche and cash grabby things I’ve ever heard, and it’s The Munsters 1964 self-titled album. This album doesn’t have much information about it, but it’s a surf-rock album that’s touted as being performed by The Munsters, who were in their prime at the time, but it’s really just some session musicians. This record is pretty fun, albeit very gimmicky and silly, because it’s just songs about The Munsters, so if you don’t like The Munsters, I can’t help you. If you do, though, this album should be a lot of fun and get some chuckles out of you. I’ve listened to it a handful of times, but it’s a good little record that admittedly sounds dated and niche. I still enjoy this, though, at least for what it is.

[blueberry-ovaries]

TAG GAME

GET TO KNOW ME :)

thank you for the tag @grumpy-liebgott !!

NAME:

Mads / Blue

PRONOUNS:

She / They

STAR SIGN:

Aquarius ♒️

# OF SIBLINGS AND FUN FACTS ABOUT THEM (IF YOU HAVE ANY):

1 younger brother! A fun fact about him is that he is a musician! he’s a really good drummer, and can pretty much play songs by listening to them once!

# OF PETS & THEIR NAMES:

1 dog and his name is Cisco, after Cisco from The Flash TV show

FANDOMS:

Band of brothers (obviously!). But I love Marvel, DC, Star wars, Harry Potter, Game of Thrones, COD… yeah i love a lot of things

FAVOURITE COLOUR:

Blue. So much so i’ve made it my theme and name :)

FAVOURITE SONG:

That’s tough because i have a lot of favourites… But one i’ve had on repeat a lot recently is Breakin’ dishes by Rhianna!

FAVOURITE AUTHOR (OF ANYTHING READABLE - BOOKS, FANFICS, ZINES, WEBTOONS, WHATEVER!):

fanfics:

@malarkgirlypop @footprintsinthesxnd @next-autopsy @mads-weasley (plus all my other friends who write! (i just have shocking name recollection ))

books:

Oscar Wilde! The picture of Dorian Gray

Holly Jackson! A Good Girls Guide to Muder

FAVOURITE FIC TYPE:

I love me a good “they’re both in love but don’t realise”… Like they both are so in love with each other but don’t think the other one is… and it’s just so fluffy

BUT

sunshine x grumpy???? that’s my shit right there

FAVOURITE HOLIDAY:

Can’t go past Christmas! now especially because i’ve been enjoying the people i’ve spent it with the last few years :))

DO YOU HAVE A PARTNER (ROMANTIC, QPR, ANYTHING!)?:

i wish, i am literally the most awkward person in existence… i’m also like unable to tell when people are flirting with me

HOBBIES:

I play netball and softball! just socially, not competitively (any more) which also means my joints are shit.

I also love to read and bake! which are things my parents passed down, my dad loves to read an my mum loves to bake, and bakes with me a bunch!

FUN FACTS ABOUT ME:

- i’m not sure if this is a fun fact, but all my joints crack or pop. At some stage of the day i can crack any joint.

- i’ve seen one direction when 5sos opened for them in concert!

- i can sing the entirety of ‘baby got back’ by Sir-Mix-A-Lot… no i don’t know how i learned it

NON PRESSURE TAGS: @malarkgirlypop @mads-nixon @executethyself35 @whollyjoly @ronald-speirs @ronsparky

[talkfastromance4]

It’s Beginning to look a lot like Christmas—Ashton blurb

So sorry this took so long, had a block, got a case of the Christmas blues but here it is! The last of the 12 days of 5sosmas! Thank you all for reading!❤️

“It’s probably not even going to be that bad but because it’s the first storm of the season everyone is freaking out,” Ashton overhears her on the phone talking to her mother. “Yeah so our flight is canceled…I hate this, I’ve never missed Christmas unless I was sick…yeah, I know…Okay, I’ll talk to you soon.”

When he turns the corner into the living room, he finds her hunched over, body wracking as she cries into her hands. Ashton rushes over pulling her into his arms as she cries into his neck. He kisses her head and rubs her back, he has no soothing words because he knows how much she loves Christmas and spending it with her family. It was supposed to be his first Christmas with her family since they started dating.

“I hate this,” she mumbles into his chest.

“I know, baby,” he kisses her head again before she lifts it. She wipes her tears from her cheeks then starts to tell him all about home.

He listens intently even though she’s been talking about it since October. She tells him how she actually misses the cold of the winter and the snow, the tradition of her favorite meal at her grandma’s house on Christmas Eve. Decorating cookies with her mom, having hot chocolate on Christmas morning as they open presents.

For the rest of the week leading up to Christmas he’s heard their song Emotions on repeat nearly everyday, Michael’s voice is permanent in his head. He knows she’s feeling very emotional whenever she listens to that song because she told him it’s the song that explains her feelings when she can’t. She calls it her Big Sad.

At 8:30 in the morning on Christmas Eve eve, he wakes her up gently with a cup of coffee. She blinks at him then glances at the clock on the wall.

“It’s too early.”

“No, come on, we have to eat breakfast and get going,” he kisses her forehead.

“Ash, our flight is canceled, we have nowhere to go.”

“Trust me,” he grins.

After more coaxing, she finally gets out of bed, eats breakfast and gets dressed in warm clothes like he tells her to do. Ashton makes sure Christmas music is playing in his car as he drives to their destination, y/n is quiet as she tries to figure out where they’re going.

“What is this place?” she asks when she steps out of his car staring at a huge wooden lodge.

“It’s not as cold as you’re used to, but it is snow,” Ashton explains grabbing your hand. “We’re going tubing.”

They buy snowpants and boots then get a tag to put on their jackets. y/n’s not sure how you can have snow in California but the familiar crunch of it under her boot is music to her ears as they trudge to the snow tube line. Families are all around and Ashton selects a two seater tube that is yellow. They fall onto it and scoot along up the hill thanks to the mechanism. He takes photo and video of her as they scale the hill to the top.

They cheer and yelp as they go down the slope, she screeches when the tube somehow turns around and they’re going down backwards. When they roll to a stop, they roll over onto the snow in laughter.

“Let’s go again.”

They don’t leave until early afternoon and she’s buzzed from the coolness of the snow and the exhilaration of going down the hills. He picks up lunch from their favorite bistro near home and then he pulls out another surprise.

“What’s in the bags?” she asks finishing a grape from her meal as he comes out with two grocery bags.

“We’re making cookies and decorating them,” he smiles.

The kitchen counter is full of flour, dough, sugar and cookie cutters. Ashton would reprimand her for sneaking some of the dough in her mouth to nibble on but when she holds her finger up to him in offering, he takes a bite.

“Okay, it’s pretty sweet,” he allows but pulls her against him by the waist (making a handprint of flour on her hip as he does) “but not as sweet as you.”

Their kiss tastes like cookies and love, she leaves a remnant of flour on his cheek as well from their kiss but then break away from the sound of the oven going off. Somehow, they ended up making four dozen batches of sugar cookies. They’re decorated as snowmen, mittens, reindeer, Santa hats, penguins, Christmas trees, angels, and some are just decorated in a fun design with sprinkles.

“What are we going to do with all of these?” she asks staring at the assortment spread across the island counter.

“We can give some away as gifts,” he picks up a snowman and chomps off his head. He groans. “We should open up a bakery, we’re good at this.”

They spend the rest of the day watching movies and eating their cookies and sharing a nap cuddled up on the couch.

On Christmas Eve, they packaged some of their cookies and delivered them to their baristas, her nail place, his yoga studio and then finally at a children’s center. The plan was to go to Michael and Crystal’s for their get together and when Ashton and y/n arrived she was surprised at the food menu.

It’s the dinner she would eat with her family.

“Ash called us as soon as your flight was canceled asking if we could have this instead,” Crystal smiles. “Obviously I said yes, I know what it’s like to miss home.”

“You’re all the best,” y/n wipes at her eyes so the tears don’t fall. Ashton ducks his head to give her a kiss on the cheek.

The night is filled with warm food and warm company with plenty of presents to go around. When the night is over y/n and Ashton eat more cookies at home before going to bed.

On Christmas morning, y/n is the first to wake and she rolls over to wake Ashton up in excitement.

“Wake up sleepyhead,” she pokes his cheek in the spot where his dimple would be, “Santa came.”

“That’s gross,” he mumbles cracking a smile as he opens his eyes.

“Ew! Not what I meant,” she laughs but scoots closer to kiss his nose then his lips. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, angel.”

They spend ten minutes laying in bed talking about their families and times they could try and visit them both to make up for the missed holiday. Ashton yawns then pats her butt signifying it’s time to get up and open presents. They make hot cocoa together then sit on the floor in front of the tree. They each got the presents the other one wanted.

“This reminds me of when I was little with wrapping paper all over the floor,” she reminisces, staring at the mess in front of them. “My mom would make cinnamon rolls and I’d play with my new toys until it was time to go to my other grandparents.”

“What was one of your favorite toys?”

“I got a green punch bug for my Barbie, I loved that thing. There was a place for a flower decoration and it came with a can of coke to put in the cup holder.”

“I hope our kids will love the Christmas memories we make for them,” he sighs then lifts himself up from the floor pulling her with him. “Let’s make breakfast. Do you want pancakes or french toast?”

y/n stares after him in shock at the comment he just said about their own kids. He said it so casually as if he was talking about her day at work. It filled her with glee that he thought of stuff like that then joins him in the kitchen. She hugs him from behind, her face buried in his back. Ashton twists around so he can hug her properly.

“Thank you for making this feel like Christmas.”

“Anytime my love.”

You smile at each other and he tilts your chin up a little higher so he can give you a proper kiss.

Taglist: @calumance  @in-superbloom @calpalirwin @karajaynetoday @wiiildflowerrr @sunshineeeluke @littledrummeraussie @suchalonelysunflower @hoodhoran @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @sunshineeashton @ashtonsunflower​ @mymindwide​ @itjustkindahappenedreally @seanna313 @mulletcal @pandaxnienke @celestialams @in-a-world-of-fandoms @blairscott

[erins-quinn]

“about the blogger” meme

thanks for the tag @currymanganese @cruciomione and @ashluvsu4ever (some tagged sydneys-adamu but that’s still me!! lol) this is late as hell but y’all are real cool! 🩷

star sign: scorpio! as far as all that other stuff like rising and moon and sun I’m not sure.

favorite holiday: I don’t have one but I’d have to say christmas for the food

last meal: chicken soup bc winter slapped me in the face now I’m sick

current favorite musician: don’t have one! I kinda hate music

last music listened to: “I know the end” by phoebe bridgers. doesn’t help my I hate music stance but that song is great so what I will do is put that song and just that song on repeat for months and not even touch anything else. I’ve also been listening to the parade revival bcr for months now.

last movie watched: blue beetle I think? and that was kind of a while ago. but great film! a lot better than I was expecting.

last tv show watched: besides just putting stuff on for noise im gonna say jury duty. an incredible watch you should consider if you haven’t already.

last book/fic finished: it was sydcarmy but I can’t remember the title. but it’s about their first fight in the cross over between whatevership and relationship and carmen gets sick and I’m also sick so!!

last book/fic abandoned: I mean I don’t read books, so that’s abandonment all on its own and if I abandon fics im not gonna publicize that lol.

currently reading: … not a book. and honestly idk basically besides re reading I’m currently reading most sydcarmy wips. I haven’t read for a different fandom since june lmao.

last thing researched for art/writing/hyper-fixation: I think “how to make a crochet coaster” I’m thinking about starting to sell and of course idk how to go about it but I figure actually making shit is a good start? who knows.

favorite online fandom memory: this isn’t a “fandom” per se (say? idk) but back in 2020-2021 I used to spend a lot of time on twitch and I got really attached to this one guy and his community. anyways I called a pop tart and a toaster strudel the same thing and got positively annihilated by the chat. twas very funny.

favorite old fandom you wish would drag you back in/have a resurgence: hmmm idk. for the sake of not having the same answer twice I’d say maybe cobra kai. I really miss loving that show and the ship I was attached to had meta that reminds me of sydcarmy. when the engagement was high it was really fun and if people suddenly decided to start caring again I’d go right back.

favorite thing you enjoy that never had an active or big “fandom” but you wish it did: american vandal!!! it’s less that I want it to have a big fandom because really who wants that and more I just wanted to know the show was appreciated, which it wasn’t :(

tempting project you’re trying to reign in/don’t have time for: I was almost roped into embroidery and punch needling and then I had to actually consider the fact that there’s no way I could commit to that. maybe one day tho.

if u see this pretend I tagged you and do it! :)

[coffee-at-annies]

3, 11, and 18!

3. Favorite musical artist / group you started listening to this year?

That I discovered this year? That’s hard. I’m not sure I discovered much music this year that wasn’t new releases from bands I already liked or singular songs. My most listened album of the year was fob cause I’m specific and sm(f)s came out in like January. My song of the year for the second year in a row was one I discovered late last year and fell in love with. I’ve listened to all of 3 songs from the artist tho.

Jukebox the Ghost was probably last year or the year before when my partner introduced me. They’ve tried getting me into The Family Crest but it’s never been the right time for an adhd hyperfixation deep dive. I got back into Matt Maeson after seeing him live, but that was my second time seeing him so he’s not new. I got super into Sammy Rae and the Friends for a hot minute after seeing her live but I first found her during quarantine looking for songs for the moss playlist. If you’ve got a moment, listen to the song I’m gonna link. It’s good. Sammy Rae described it as for the girls and the gays.

I could maybe claim Sub-Radio after Stacey’s Dad went viral but I’ve had flashback in my Spotify likes for a while so connecting the dots was just what got me to listen to more and also follow them on YouTube. If I had to pick a single that isn’t from one of the artists I’ve listed it’d have to be Drink Water.

Maybe the obcr of Some Like It Hot counts? That came out this year. I’m only obsessed with it since I saw the show live right before Christmas last year and then had to wait months for the obcr to come out so idk if it counts.

11. Something you want to do again next year?

Answered that one here with a lot of small joys I’m looking forward to repeating.

18. A memorable meal this year?

I’m trying to think of a meal that was worth remembering. A place that was worth going back to. My first instinct is my mom’s 60th. We splurged and she got reservations for the place up on Mount Washington. The one that overlooks the point. We weren’t close to the windows cause my grandmother can’t do steps and it was rainy but it was a lovely celebration.

Oh! God this is the dumbest fucking story but it’s certainly memorable. So like I’m sure you’re probably vaguely aware that I decided I wanted to be disappointed in new and interesting ways after the Pens let me down so thoroughly last spring that I decided to fuck around and become a Pirates fan. What you probably don’t know bc I didn’t do much lbing is I watched a stupid amount of Pirates games. What you’ve probably forgotten is the Buccs had a ridiculously hot start last season. 20-8 in the month of April. One of those games was actually two - rain reschedule meant it was a double header. My best friend spent the day taking his black belt test (I forgot if he’s second or third degree now but he passed!) and wanted to go out to celebrate. There’s a new-ish chain crab place in the waterfront where the TGIF used to be. The bestie isn’t a sports person at all but my sister and I are so we asked for the tv to be switched to the game. The second game of the double header was one where the Buccs scored 16 runs off the Nats for a final score of 16-1. Watching them light up basically every Nats pitcher who hadn’t pitched in the earlier game while systematically demolishing an order of crab legs was just an excellent experience. Was the food memorable? Eh the crab is fine for a chain. The meal itself was very very fun. Like exactly what you want when watching a game at a bar/restaurant. I won’t say platonic ideal but like the vibes were certainly right.

End of the Year Asks

[lovemesomesurveys]

[joybucket @ bzoink]

How often do you wear necklaces? 📿   Well, I’ve worn one everyday since this past Christmas when my mom gave it to me. 

Would you rather wear a bracelet or a necklace? 📿   Bracelet. 

Do you own a coral sweater?   Nope. 

Which name do you like best: Emily, Ellery, or Eliana?   Eliana. 

What season were you born in?   Summer. Blehhhh. 

What season is your favorite? I love fall and winter. 

When was the last time you had a donut? 🍩   Sometime several months ago. 

Which spelling do you like better: Jillian or Gillian?   Gillian. 

Have you ever wondered how the country of Ireland got its name? 🇮🇪   I don’t think I’ve thought of that one specifically, but I always wonder where the name for everything comes from. 

Which name do you like best for a girl: Harmony, Harper, Harlow, Harvest, or Harley?   Harvest. 

What is your favorite shade of green? 💚 Sea foam green. 

What is your least favorite shade of green? 🫒   Puke green. 

Which name do you like best for a girl: Bianca, Brogan, or Briar?   Bianca. 

....how about out of these: Carly, Carmen, or Carlotta?   Carly. 

Which name do you like better: Jasmine or Yasmin?   I like both. 

Did you used to wish that you could own some of the same outfits as your dolls?   Oh, most definitely. Barbies had the coolest clothes and stuff. 

Do you think you look better with your hair up or down?   I look like shit no matter what, but I like my hair down 

What is your favorite shade of blue? 💙   Pastel blue. 

What is your least favorite shade of blue?   I can’t think of a least favorite. 

Would you rather ride a motorcycle 🏍️ or a regular bicycle 🚴?   Neither. 

What is the name of one island you have vacationed on? 🏝️ I’ve never vacationed on an island.   

Which one-syllable girl's name do you like best: Claire, Cove, Dawn, Rose, or Jade?   Jade. 

When was the last time you wore leggings?   Several months ago.

What is your most severe allergy? 🤧 I’m allergic to tangerines. 

Do you own a purple sweater?   No.

How often do you create surveys?   I don’t create surveys. 

What is one game you have cheated on? I’m no cheater. 

Do you believe it's ever ok to cheat on a test? 📝   No.

Have you ever cheated on a test? 📝   No.

What's your favorite song by Miley Cyrus? I like several of her songs. 

What was the last song you listened to on repeat?   Area Codes by Kali. 

What was the best part of your day today (or yesterday)?   Catching up with my brother about his recent trip. 

How often do you wear earrings?   It’s been years since I’ve worn earrings.

Have you ever worn a stuffed animal at an age guessing booth? 🧸   No, nor have I ever participated in that.

What is something you own that you've had since you were in high school? I have my class shirts. 

What year did you join Facebook?   All the way back in 2008. 

What was the first color you ever dyed your hair?   I had blonde highlights for the longest time. 

What is one thing most people seem to like the smell of, but you don't?   Sharpies. It gives me a headache and I feel nauseous. 

Have you ever been scammed?   Yes. Not fun.

Are you smart? 🧠   I’m like average I guess. 

What color is your dresser?   Brown. 

If applicable, what color was the dress you wore to your very first Homecoming Dance? 💃 --

When was the last time you purchased something from a bakery? 🧁 Uhhh. I don’t recall. 

....and what was it that you purchased? --

What is your computer's desktop background?   It’s a picture of water from one of the choices that came with the laptop.

When was the last time you used washi tape, and what did you use it for?   I don’t think I’ve ever used it.

List three big cities you have visited and would love to visit again.   San Francisco, Los Angeles, Boise. I haven’t been to many big cities. 

On a scale of 1 to 10, how happy are you with your life?   >> I don't know how to rate my ever-fluctuating and deeply complex feelings about being alive on a numerical scale...  <<<

What brings you joy? A good show/movie/book. 

What's your most cherished memory?   So many childhood memories and times with my grandparents who have passed away almost 15-20 years ago.

Do you believe in God? Why or why not?   I do.

Were you named after anyone, and if so, who?   No, but I recently found out Stevie Nick’s real name is Stephanie and this girl on TT said she, Stephanie, was named after Stevie Nicks. I wish that had 

When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper? 📝   Uhhh. I have no idea. 

Which spelling do you use for the color: gray or grey?   Gray, but I like the ‘grey’ spelling. 

Who has hurt you the most?   Life. Myself. 

Who or what is your happy place?   The beach. 

If you could erase horrible memories, what memory would you erase?   I wouldn’t, to be honest. 

When was the last time you cried?   A couple days ago.

If you could go anywhere in the world right now (all expenses paid), where would you go?   I’d want to really think about a huge opportunity like that. It’s not everyday that happens, ya know.

How do you feel at the moment?   I’m tired and have some pain. 

Do you believe that you're a strong person?   No. I think I’m very weak in every sense. 

What's your biggest dream? To get to a better place with my health and actually feel decent so I can be able to do things again. 

Paintings or digital pictures?   >> why am I choosing between them...<<<

Are you scared to love?   Yes.

What's your biggest fear? Losing my loved ones, never getting better/getting worse, never doing anything with my life.

Are you afraid of heights?   Yes.

Are you in love?   I am not. There’s not even someone I’m interested in. 

Do you prefer a bright or dark room?  I don’t want it bright, but I don’t want it dark either. Just a comfortable brightness to see in. Have you ever danced in the rain? ☔️ 💃  No. “I wanna know, have you ever seen the rainnnn.”

Do you have a good relationship with your parents?   Yes.

Have you ever cried because you were so happy?   I don’t recall the last time I cried for that reason. 

Books or movies? I enjoy both.

[smallbirdbigcoat]

hi!! im yr srs santa ❄️, not sure if my last message went thru so im attempting 2 attach it again! hope u hade a good christmas 🍻 this was fun! i havent heard that lemon demon album so ill have to check it out, thanks!! omg that is so cool!! thats so literally sick id love to see yr favorite page or pages. i journal too mines mostly articles & pictures i cut from magazines n poems it’s literally so fun n i did notice my mental health getting better as i did it too LOL i would say my main hobby either “crate digging” on spotify or playing guitar. probably guitar cuz i do that a ton LOL but i also love finding rlly awesome music thats not really well known cuz it honestly doesnt take too much work just some time. abt maybe two or 3 weeks ago i found this band called speed glue & shinki & they’re fantastic!! i also write poetry frequently … i like to keep busy LOL 2day i bring you a song ive been listening to on repeat! https://open.spotify.com/track/3vTehy2tTrXyEeOieYFEAd

hello!!!! it was rly fun! hope u had a good christmas as well :)

here r some of my fave pictures from my journal:

this is a drawing i did of a statue of circe that’s at the art gallery in melbourne and i was very proud of it

here’s a little self portrait i did bc i rly liked the outfit i had on at the time

these r some more little doodles i have done in sketchbooks and pasted them in that i’m happy w :) feat phoebe bridgers + bruce springsteen lyrics

and some cool stuff that i’ve found or been given, some little affirmation things someone gave me at a crystal shop, a handwritten receipt from a second hand shop and an actual physical ticket from a museum.

(i hope this is formatted correctly when i post it bc i’m doing it on mobile and the images keep moving all over the place lmao)

i’d love to be able to find cool underground music on spotify but i’ve not rly been that successful in the past! tell me your secrets!! i do watch a lot of rage which is an Australian music video program that showcases a lot of indie and alternative artists as well as a lot of local australian bands so i’ve gotten a lot of cool music from there. jenny destroys records by billiam, lexapro by voiid and end of the line by civic are some songs i’ve been listening to a lot recently bc of rage if u r interested.

applause is rly cool!! it reminds me of a song that could be playing in a fight scene of a movie, like a song that you’d wanna smash things up to. i like it

[dream-thief-forever-amen]

Tagged by @hedgewyse

Get to know you game

Three Ships

Instead of exact ships - here are my favorite genres of ships.

Doomed Ships.

I love melodramatic love / that’s impossible, that is destined to fail, that absolutely will never happen but it doesn’t matter to either of them cause they can’t stop loving each other. Even through heartbreak. Even as it gets harder and harder. Even if it kills. Cause they will find a way to be close to each other - to see each other - to pine or touch or just breath the same air.

Prime examples: Six Flying Dragons. Chicago Typewriter. English Patient. Mood Indigo. Brokeback Mountain. Free Fall. Wuthering Heights. My Mister. No Regret. Call me by Your Name. Warrior Baek Dong Su. Your Name Engraved Therein. Devil Judge.

Fate is Against It but Here We Are.

You know the stories. Two young loves are separated by fate or circumstances and reunite later. My father killed your parents. Our families hate each other. I have sworn revenge against you or your family… our parents got married… I was hired to kill you. Oh the feeeeeeels are here so fate be damned!

Prime Examples: Shark/Don’t look back, Come & Hug Me, Addicted, Bad Buddy, Long Time No See. KinnPorsche. Uncontrollably Fond. Angel Eyes.

Unreasonable Devotion.

I will die for you. I will kill for you. You are my entire world and nothing exists outside of you. I have spent my life focusing on you and you alone. This is quite possibly my all time favorite trope. The madness of obsession. The unbearable romance of it.

Prime Examples: Queen Seon Duk, My Beautiful Man, Addicted, We Best Love, history1: obsessed, Healer, Hello Monster, Will it Snow for Christmas?, Love in the Air, Werewolf Boy

First Ever Ship

A poly-romance for King Arthur, guinevere, and Lancelot. Though I did not recognize it as such at the time. I watched the 1967 movie musical Camelot at my grandmothers house when I was a kid… and absolutely pined over the sweet and endearing King… and his horny wife… and his noble, dumb knight Lancelot. The king loved them both. I loved them all. I wanted them all to stay together forever.

Same situation happened again with the trio in The King Loves! Just… stay together, all of you, and be happy!

Last Song

NCT 127 - Lemonade (working on a dumb fan vid for it so I’ve been listening on repeat)

Last Movie

It’s been a bit… uhm… Alienoid, I think.

Currently Reading

Hail Mary by Andy Weir - ugh the science hurts my brain but I’m in love with the musical space spider rock alien so… nearly finished it. Just finished Fevered Star (not as good as Black Sun but not bad). Up next… Fairy Tale by Stephen King or Weaveworld by Clive Barker.

Currently Watching

Shadow & Bone: Season 2, He is Psychometric, kokdu, the end of the world with you

Currently Consuming

whatever I want. Currently a slightly over ripe dragon fruit and some Singapore Tea.

Currently Craving

I dunno… an alien abduction? A robotic housemate? A talking plant? A close friend irl. My friends have all moved away and I am starting to forget what it’s like to enjoy someone’s company.

Wanna play? If you haven’t done this one already.

Tagging: @lilithfatale @fluidsoul31 @saturnskyline @nattawinlove @queeraroace @ronhatescoffee2

[ariondevereux]

Hello Nikka! Happy holidays to you. I hope you stay happy and healthy and have a wonderful start to the new year. It's nice to meet you out of anon too, I'm a bit shy and not that active on tumblr except for following a few blogs here and there so I usually prefer to stay on anon, but you seem really lovely so I felt comfortable to send an ask off anon :')). Also I just noticed that you followed me which djdjdj you're one of my fave blogs on here so I did fangirl a little bit. :)). Your Ocs are so well developed omg. I adore them all. P Martens and all the golden ROs are my comfort characters, whom I won't stop gushing over. They're so well written. And the pairing between Maya and P is absolute chefs kiss and her friendship with K is so cute. 🥰

I have way too many Ocs to keep track of and ever since I've downloaded sims 4 it hasn't gotten any better. You had a list of IF recs a while ago but I can't find it. If you could please link it it would be amazing. I've been in the biggest reading slump ever and have been looking for some new ifs to read and since u have great taste I would love to check out some or the ones your recommended. I've just been replaying golden and BDSI by the lovely Mila because idk what it is about her writing, it's just so addicting to read and reread. She has such a way with words. I honestly think she's become my favourite author at this point. 😊

Your voice is so beautiful, if you ever put your songs on Spotify or YouTube please lmk I would love to add them to my playlist. I've been listening to them on repeat. The way you craft lyrics is so genius and accompanied by your voice and the piano it's just wow! As someone who songs like a dying goat, but appreciates good music I can tell you your music is incredible! 👀

I swear idk why I write a thesis every time I send an ask to your inbox, but I hope you don't mind the length too much. 😭

From tokrev anon <33

you are literally an angel on earth 🥺 2022’s been giving me some last minute agonies but the christmas eve celebration was fun <3 i hope the holidays have been wonderful to you and that 2023 gives you a great start. you deserve it 💞💞

and i totally get you. i have so many ocs that idk what to do with right now and my golden and bdsi ocs are some of the few that i’m still able to develop especially maya. she’s so close to my heart and i’m happy you love her 🥰 also i’ve been in a reading slump too but i’ll add my recs tag in the tags so you can look through that <3

thank you omg. thank you thank you so much for still listening to my songs. pls my impostor syndrome is suddenly kicking in because i’m actually struggling to come up with even just one line that i really like so that’s something i wanna get back into and work on. thank you again for the encouragement. if i start using my yt again i can message you the link if you like <3 thank you again 🥺

and don’t worry i enjoy getting asks from you. i always smile when i see them. thank you again for this and like everything else. sending you so much love and happy holidays!! 💖

[guiltypleasurefandomface]

Hi! For the fanfic writers ask - 🎶 & 👀?

Hello! I am SO sorry this took so long to get to. I was shaking off the rest of this bug going around and then had to juggle uni and christmas stuff. But here we are!

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

Yes I do! But it depends on a few things at the time of writing, as to whether it’s music with lyrics or classical music. 

Just these last 3 weeks, I’ve listened to KT Tunstall’s version of Mele Kalikimaka on repeat a LOT. 

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

Ooh, an UP and coming wip! 

Well i’m desperate to finish my WIP True Love’s Kiss, but as for Up and Coming, it could be one of a few. I’ve got one I’d love to finish sometime soon that’s a Roger sick fic. He’s so very sick that he needs to be in the hospital and there are funny moments and feelings along the way. I haven’t decided whether I want it to be a shippy fic or not...

Another WIP that might be completed next is a Frian fic. Freddie’s not being a very good friend which rather sticks the boot in to poor Brian’s unknown feelings. There is much talk of edible paper!

And another WIP that I hope to complete sometime soon, is another Christmas fic I was hoping to get done for this year’s christmas but alas... Set in the 80s, Queen are asked to go visit a children’s ward/hospital. They have the choice of just handing out the presents the hospital provide… but why do that when they could go on a shopping spree in Hamleys?

Thank you so much for asking!

for the fic writer asks

[survey--s]

492.

What was the last song you listened to on repeat?   You Were Mine by The Chicks.

When was the last time you saw fireworks? 💥   New Years Eve, though someone was setting some off the other night too.

Out of all the community service or volunteer work you have done, what has been your favorite, and why?   I’ve never done any community service or volunteering.

Would you rather visit New York or California? Why?   New York, just because it appeals to me a bit more, I guess. I remember my mum going with work when I was a teenager and I was SO jealous haha. She brought me back an Abercrombie hoodie and loads of Reese’s pieces, lol.

Do you normally eat healthy? 🥗   No, I’m pretty rubbish at maintaining a healthy diet.

Which do you use more: your computer or your phone?   My phone.

Who is your favorite Disney princess?   Belle or Anna.

Have you ever tried hard drugs?   Nope, I’ve never tried any illegal drugs actually.

What are three of your favorite toppings for a pizza? 🍕   Pesto, sundried tomatoes and proper Italian mozarella.

What are three of your favorite ingredients for a salad? 🥗   Parmesan, sundried tomatoes, rocket.

What color was the last hoodie you wore?   Pale grey.

Would you rather ride on a ferris wheel 🎡 or a merry-go-round? 🎠   Ferris wheel.

When was the last time you went to the mall? 🛍️   Just before Christmas.

Are you comfortable with silence?   I am, but generally I prefer a bit of background noise - like at the moment I’m sat on my own enjoying the peace but I still have a film on in the background.

If you wear glasses, what color are they? 🤓 and what grade were you in when you started wearing glasses?   They’re black and purple rimmed ones - I’ve been wearing glasses since I was seven, which is year...2 I think.

Do you express yourself better out loud or in writing?   In writing as I can correct myself and read over what I want to say before actually saying it. In person I tend to mix my words up a bit.

What are three little things that you enjoy?   Scented wax melts, sherpa fleece blankets, peanut butter cups.

What was the last book you had trouble putting down? 📖   The “Alice” books by Christina Henry.

What is one thing you are enthusiastic about?   Horses (and animals in general).

What is the best compliment you've ever received?   Mike marrying me - I mean, someone committing to spending their life with you, no matter what, is a pretty huge commitment.

Do you believe in miracles? ✨   No.

Have you ever witnessed or experienced a miracle? ✨   Well, no.

What color is your favorite sweater?   I have three favourites - one is black, one’s grey and the third is purple.

Do you like the smell of old books? 📚   I love it. I actually have a scented candle that smells of vintage books lol.

Do you own a dreamcatcher?   Not anymore, but I had quite a few when I was younger.

Have you ever made a dreamcatcher?   No.

What are three ways in which you are not normal?   I have autism so I’m just not normal in any way, lol.

Would you rather be able to travel through time or through space?   Space, for sure.

Would you rather eat Chinese food or Italian food?   Chinese, but only decent Chinese food. I find like, cheap supermarket Italian food is better than the Chinese equivalent, but proper takeaway Chinese is amazing.

How many bracelets are you wearing right now? 📿   Zero.

Do you prefer tea or coffee? ☕️   Coffee.

What are three of your favorite things to do at the beach? 🏝️   Read, paddle in the sea and walk barefoot in the sand.

Do you sing in the shower? 🚿   Sure, all the time.

What is your favorite season, and why?   I love different things about all four seasons. Spring because of the sunshine, the longer days, baby animals and flowers, summer because of the long, warm evenings, days out and the weather in general, autumn for the colours, the leaves and being able to wear big jumpers and cosy boots, and winter for those crisp, clear, frosty mornings, snow and of course, Christmas!

What is your favorite musical? 🎭   Les Miserables, Rocky Horror, Sweeney Todd, Phantom of the Opera.

How many people have you hugged in the past year? 🤗   That’s really not something I’ve ever kept track of, lol.

Do you like hugs? 🤗   That depends on who’s hugging me.

When was the last time you painted something? 🎨   Uh, I painted the living room three years ago, during lockdown. That still feels like such a surreal thing to have experienced, lol.

What are three creative hobbies you enjoy?   I’m not really a particularly creative person.

Are you truly happy with your life right now?   Yes.

Which genre of music do you listen to the most? 🎶   It really depends on my mood.

When was the last time you lit a candle? 🕯️   About an hour ago, when the one in my wax burner ran out.

When was the last time you built a blanket fort?   Uh, about 8-9 years ago.

When was the last time you took a relaxing bath? 🛀   Yesterday - I always have a bath after my beach rides.

What are three random things you are good at?   Uh, being organised, remembering names/dates and working with animals.

What types of cancer are in your family (that you know of)?   Bowel and prostate cancer, both on my dads’ side.

When was the last time you blew bubbles? 🫧    A few summers ago.

What color are your eyes? 👀 Brown.