#OC: Chase the Waiter

[vargaslovinghours]

EleVeN!11!!1! (1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 10½)

Fuzzy Edgar forever. I don’t remember the context now, maybe there wasn’t any to begin with haha, he’s just so cute with slightly longer hair! And upset :)

Some Diaryfic snuggles ♥ Scriabin can be so sweet to him at the worst time ah, I love Edgar’s hard on his arm and Scriabin’s pulling his hair out of his injured eye 💕

While I was very inspired by the Red Flags meme going around (we’ll get there), I was just as inspired by Mixed Messages - this exchange is so silly and them to me. He’s just trying to flirt back, you don’t have to make it harder! That’s just what Scriabin does haha

🥐 🖕 D:’

What else did you expect Scriabin to do with texting capabilities?? I’m still very enamoured with the thought of Scriabin using emojis and Edgar using emoticons - they are sort of different generations!

Here’s the Red Flags! So gd catchy, damn lol. I was specifically inspired by the X is on a date with themself edits, it was so tempting to consider a Ladyverse version as well haha. Edgar’s uncomfortable smiles were so incredibly fun hehe ♪

Y’see because with that many eyes- you get it

Edgar’s little “Or do I??” makes me laugh haha, anything to get out of this situation!

Waiter Jake ❤️💕💖💞💗 Rescue him!

Very inspired by this one specifically, he’s totally innocent! Not offputting at all! ♥

Alright well good luck with that bye. I love Edgar being menaced into continuing this date hehe ♫

Scriabin just keeping on the pressure for this date to keep going! Slight neg in “Couldn’t you have dressed up a little nicer though? ✨” pft

Brief aside with Scriabin!Edgar out drinking with my OC Mint who has very openly had a crush on the Vargases for a while now, thanks Mint

Honestly it was all just an excuse to turn him down and have Scriabin call Edgar his “landlord” haha; I was feeling nostalgic and went back to reread some old YuGiOh fics and had been so long away that I forgot that was a term used in the fandom to refer to the bodies of people the various Yamis would take over hehe ♪ It felt very fitting!

I can call him that but don’t you call him that >:(

Angy Scriabin!Edgar, the usual

Handplates re/reading doodles!! Hghgh!!! The theses of these stories of codependent relationships cut me to my very core I’ll have you know 💕 I managed to avoid falling down the rabbit hole of Handplates!Vargas but I was this close, lemme tell you. The subtle shift in phrasing changes so much ;; I love them dearly

A kind-of leftover WOY style Scriabin, since I made his hair all pointy in my first doodles - the WOY style is quite soft and round! He looks very silly hehe

Another song that is, yes, unironically in my Vargas playlist. This is a Nny song to me and you can pry it from my cold dead correct hands. That beautiful facial hair ♪

More Handplates/Vargas, this time obviously inspired by my holiday request 💕💖💞 I honestly rather like how calm Gaster seems whenever he’s in Edgar’s vicinity, he is a fairly unassuming human haha. Is it because he doesn’t laugh very often? Oh no that’s sad actually haha

I’m not done with Blank Slate Ch. 4 just yet - hopefully soon! - but this lineup stands out to me especially since I made it while rereading Handplates. Specifically after Gaster is pulled out of the Void - Gaster having to face the people he loves who have no memory of him really spoke to me in a Blank Slate way - the scenario of being able to completely start over and have never done anything to hurt your loved ones, at the expense of never having done anything to them, as far as they’re concerned, ah! It hurts so beautifully!! That’s one of the central themes I’m chasing so it was so cool to see in that context! Very inspiring ♥

So remember how in my Sims post, one Vargas family ended up with two Todds? Well what if that but actually

Twin Todd AU, just try and stop me

The saddest little twins y’ever did see ahh 💔 Having to share Shmee because there’s just the one of him! Who has a greater need :’0

I actually went and skimmed the SQUEE! comics to get a better grasp on the Casils, I’d forgotten basically everything haha. It seemed in keeping that if they could barely keep track of the one Todd, they wouldn’t bother even differentiating between two :’) Taking Todd shifts to better share the load

At least they have each other! More helpful than a stuffed bear who eats trauma? On par at least?

I also happened to catch this screenshot of the Todds gossiping about their shadow-dad, though I’m not sure who had seen him :0 By now I have found an adoption memory-loss prevention mod - thank goodness :D - but it wasn’t installed at the time! :0 Blue Todd is the Todd who’d already been the Vargases’ kid, Red Todd is newly-adopted Todd :)

Greetings in order! One of the Todds came by to scout out this strange new person

It’s a name to go by, if nothing else

Reporting back from the field, he has served his big narrative influence hehe ♥

Uh, yeah, about that- While I don’t doubt you were seeing double at times, uhm-

Surprise! Double the sons!

Only so much space in this apartment! They’re probably used to sharing a space to sleep weh, the implications of this AU are sad! I have no one to blame but myself haha

I have never been able to give up this twisted love I have for Edgar getting flustered about incredibly silly things and Scriabin chiding him with just his name haha ♥ Real twins do not delegitimize whatever the hell you two are to each other 💕

Who me? An affinity for how names shape identity and what it means to be a whole separate person? In love with this story in particular? You must be mistaken. But really, what would their name(s) be? I also love the subtle differences even just here - one Todd speaks up for the other! Dynamics ✨

1994, 2004, basically the same year innit. Scriabin is so much more on the up-and-up about the latest technology than Edgar, that old man

In which the offscreen is me lol, I was so blown away by how much more advanced the Sims 2 was from the Sims 1 ♥ Scriabin doesn’t need a box with a program in it, he has the absolute funnest toy in the world already!

And isn’t that the most important part ♪

Scriabin immediately makes himself and hooks up with every Sim he can, Edgar uncomfortable and totally not watching a~ny of the animations hehe ♪ Honestly though, the thought of Scriabin being genuinely excited to virtually get it on with any-and-every delights me haha

Look. Look, okay, look- If I could choose what to be inspired by, I would but sometimes

Obviously Scriabin would be a long Furby lol, this exchange can be summarized to “Scriabin no D:” “Scriabin yes >:D”

He’s complaining that Edgar ignoring him sleeping is boring haha

I did briefly lose my mind over how the Furbish word for “I/me/my/mine” is all the same - linguistically it makes sense, self-possessive, but in this, in their context ♥

Based on that one Wojak format - looks into the camera like “Yes. I am in your head. Insanity tracks” pfft

And it’s @jaspravex with the steel chair!! I hadn’t drawn any of them in like a month and then all of a sudden- I was 1000% not expecting to be hit with such a huge wave of inspiration but gosh and dang did this line of thought light me up. The implication! The jealousy! Wow that’s a lot all at once I wasn’t expecting ♥ Somehow these two never ended up on my shipping chart, dynamics I swear haha ✨

There’s September through February for the fourth go ‘round! Wild when I put it like that :0 Like clockwork, these lads ♪

[ezralovrr]

STOP ATTACKING ME! - A short Helluva Boss OC Drabble

Yeah I’m not gonna lie.. I don’t really like Stolas, I’m sorry. His whiny attitude about how Blitzo doesn’t love him is honestly really annoying. So here’s my frustrations being put into a small story!

(Also this basically serves as an origin story to Raya’s rivalry with Stolas.)

Stolas likers, I’m sorry in advance. This one isn’t for you.

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The Goetia palace was lavishing as ever this evening; the crystal chandeliers sparkled in the evening light, the constellations painted on the ceiling seemed to glow, and the polished marble floor reflected the silhouettes of the avian royalty of Hell.

While Stella flounced about on the ballroom floor and squawked to her peacock acquaintances about her stupid husband, the owl prince Stolas stood 10 feet away from her, meekly sipping on some rich wine. “Witch.” He hissed under his breath. He was dressed in his bathrobes, as he couldn’t bother to get into his more formal attire. It’s not like anyone would care, anyways. Pity, pity, pity…

Andrealphus gave his brother-in-law a snide glare as he strode over to his cackling sister, who was loudly singing about what foolish things her husband had said this week. She did like to torment him, so this was nothing new to the owl prince.

Stolas huffed and ruffled his feathers, a look of sadness creeping up on his beak. If only his “star-crossed” lower-class lover Blitzo could whisk him away from the “Still Not Divorced” party, leaving his teenage daughter Octavia to sit awkwardly with her mother…

His train of thought was interrupted when he heard someone yelling mildly as they struggled to climb over the balcony rail. Stolas’s ruby eyes lit up, and he dashed over to the balcony he was standing next to, grabbing the arm to pull his lover up to the pala-

It was a human.

“Oh.” Stolas sighed. Regardless, he helped her up and into the palace, as he didn’t wish to be rude. “My apologies. I thought you were someone else.” He briskly turned to an imp waiter, trying to offer the woman something to drink or nibble on. She refused politely, though by the look on her face, she wanted to discuss something with the prince.

“It’s alright. I actually wanted to ask you about something regarding your.. affair.” The words “affair” seemed to haunt Stolas. Affair was far from what could be described about his loving, totally sincere relationship with Blitzo. “…Right then. Please, pray tell, what do you wish to query me?” Stolas adjusted his bathrobe to appear decent.

“Why do you still chase after that imp?” She shot him a subtle yet icy cold glare. Stolas felt his heart quake. “…What- What is your name..?” He asked the human. She gasped lightly and adjusted her corn-colored hair. “Raya. Why do you wish to know?” She tilted her head up at the prince. “I- …With all due respect, miss Raya… I genuinely feel a strong, warm connection to that little imp.” Stolas stared off into space as a sick warmth spread to his beak.

Raya clenched her teeth, clearly annoyed he was trying to change the subject. As he started to ramble on and on, she felt slightly agitated and wanted to square the conversation back. “No- no, you’re not listening to me, your highness.” She spoke out, causing the owl to hoot slightly and shut his beak in mild shock.

“…Like I said, you’re chasing after someone who isn’t interested in you. You deliberately harass the poor man, exploiting him for your pleasure and to keep his business afloat, and even prioritizing him over your daughter not once, but twice. You flaunted your first affair to your wife. And I get that she’s awful, but it doesn’t give you an excuse to do so. You spend all your time wailing and waiting for your imp prince to rescue you from the wicked witch, but you’re just living a fantasy. A sick fantasy in which you leave your daughter alone as feared. And no amount of coddling could change that, which is why you need to take the first step and accept that Blitz. Doesn’t. Love you.” Raya went on a long-winded rant, essentially calling out the Goetia prince for his attitude and actions.

Stolas was horrified, his legs were shaking like a great earthquake, his heart heavily beating as sweat trickled down his beak. It was true, but he didn’t want to accept it. He hated confrontation, he hated owning up to his mistakes and recognizing his flaws. And then, right before she could deliver the verdict…

“STOP! STOP IT, PLEASE, I BEG OF YOU! PLEASE, STOP IT!” Like a child, the owl prince screeched and stumbled back, crocodile tears streaming down his face as he made a scene. “No- wait- I- I didn’t mean to. Your royal highness, I apologize. Please, just breathe and think rationally for a second…!” Raya lightly raised her hand to soothe the prince.

“WITCH! SHE’S RAISING HER HAND AGAINST ME! SOMEONE, PLEASE TAKE HER AWAY!” Stolas cried out, dark blue feathers slightly falling from his body.

The orchestra paused as the royal avians turned to the scene. Andrealphus raised an eyebrow, mildly confused at the behavior of his brother-in-law. Stella, however, had a wicked, almost proud grin on her face. Two hellhounds grabbed Raya by the forearms while she was distracted from attempting to ease the prince.

“Ma’am, it’s nothing personal. We’d like for you to leave the premises at once.” One of them barked at her. “No, wait-! I’m not done! Octavia! Princess! Please just know that my door’s open if you wish to have a safe space!!” Raya called to the Goetia princess as she was dragged out of the ballroom. Octavia, while mildly confused, as put at ease as she went to go comfort her tantrum-throwing father.

Raya was tossed outside of the Goetia palace, and she hit the pavement upon impact. “Respectfully, you are disallowed from entering this palace again.” The other hellhound affirmed her as they shut the doors. “Damn it all…” Raya sighed and picked herself up. She shivered slightly, mildly irritated that her confrontational approach didn’t work out in the end.

Just before she was about to leave, the door opened and closed quickly. Raya turned around, finding a prideful Stella exiting the palace. “Well done. Really, darling, well done!” She slowly applauded the human. “What?” Raya mouthed to no one in particular.

“You really took the words out of my mouth. Although I’m still mildly disgusted that the imp-sucking excuse of my husband is being coddled right now back upstairs… you really said some things I wanted to hear for a long time.” Stella smiled lightly, offering a hand for the human to shake. Raya stared down at her hand, then pulled her lavender cardigan sleeve a bit over her palm before accepting the handshake.

“I’m… honored, I guess.” She awkwardly brushed a piece of hair out of her eyes. “Well, I must head back to the Still Not Divorced soirée. Just keep in mind though… I admire your bravery.” Stella curtsied lightly before taking her leave and re-entering the palace.

Raya stood there, flabbergasted. Although her mission was unsuccessful, she at least felt satisfied voicing her thoughts on the prince.

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And that’s the end! I’m gonna be honest, I’m not really keeping up with the show anymore, so I tried to write the characters to the best of my ability.

[izvmimi]

a/n: not me butting into other people's aus but i love @strawberrystepmom's kakashi x reader au so much!!!

cw: alcohol mention. reader is at brunch with a friend (oc)!

"so you're fucking the hokage, huh?"

you nearly spit out the drink in your mouth while maemi looks at you, unphased by the words coming out of her mouth, and stirs her drink. it's 11am, there's relentless hustle and bustle at this outdoor restaurant, and the soft breeze of early spring is not enough to abate the heat rising from your mostly bare shoulders up to your jawline.

"shhh!!!" you hiss, leaning in, as though you're suddenly surrounded by reporters. maemi blinks.

"damn, you didn't even argue with me." she laughs as your complexion reddens even more, and takes another bite of eggs benedict. you're covering your face now, embarrassment thick and unrelenting, and she chews and swallows before leaning in.

"don't worry, no one is listening in. plus i'm pretty good at misdirection - good grades in genjutsu class, remember?" she insists.

you shoot her a dirty look before rising to a regular sitting position, and adjusting the pleats of your spring dress.

"fine, a codename." maemi suggests. "are we going with your usual?"

you sigh. "That Man and I have not fucked yet."

maemi looks at you, contemplating, then takes another bite.

"he's fingered you under the table, right?" she asks.

"please!"

maemi takes a sip of her mimosa, nonchalant, and gulps it down a little too quick. "manabu told me, and if he knows, more people know than you think."

your blood seems to run cold, or is it early spring chill? you can't tell. her partner doesn't seem like the gossipy type, but he does work close enough to the hokage's office that it is feasible that he's heard something - or worse, heard something.

"you know, i could tell that once you started this job it would end up like this." she taps her forehead with the back of one of her chopsticks. "you know, the authority kink and everything?"

you take out your hand and place it on the table, palm up. "knock me out right now, to be honest." maemi looks down at your hand then looks up.

"oh no, you're gonna have to ask the alcohol to do that for you." she says, declining to waste her chakra. with that statement, she finishes the rest of her mimosa, then raises her hand up for the waiter to bring them another round of drinks. once the order is given, her eyes turn foxlike as she smiles at you again.

"hey, can you get the hokage to promote me? i'm not gonna be able to compete with nepotism baby sakura at this point, unless i have some kind of backer."

you snort. "i don't think being a former hokage's apprentice necessarily counts as nepotism. maybe she's just good."

maemi furrows her eyebrows. "listen, i may not be as good as her but i'm not garbage and i need someone powerful to back me-"

you raise a hand. "even if i WERE-" you pause, then bite your lip before continuing, "making love to current Lord Sixth-"

"is that what you call him in bed?"

you can feel your head start to pound before giggling maemi raises her own hands in defeat. "sorry, no more jokes."

you cut your eyes at her, and continue, "- what makes you think i can ask that?"

maemi leans in, brown eyes glowing with humor at her own jokes. "just give him the old spit shine and be like, so i have this really, really talented friend-"

"get out." you hiss.

your next round of drinks come, and you dig into a plate of potatoes and chase it down with iced coffee. as the conversation shifts away from the fact that you are notably entangled with the most powerful man in konoha at the moment, you consider what it might mean for your future, both as a biographer but also as someone who hopes to live quietly in this country. maemi notices you are somewhat lost in thought, and stops her tirade about the hierarchy of konoha's medical-nin, and gives you a reassuring smile.

"i know i just gave you shit, but i promise if anyone bothers you, i'll be the first one at your defense. i already told manabu to write down the names of anyone who even suggests that you're anything but sweet and sought after," she mentions. "you'll be fine."

you swallow.

"thanks."

maemi gives you another look, able to tell you're not completely reassured.

"do you love him?" she asks, her voice softer this time. "... it's not wrong if you do."

you can't give her a yes now, but you can feel your heart, slowly but surely, moving towards it.

[somany-fandoms-solittle-time]

In A Sentimental Mood: A Ruggie/Yuu Oneshot

Some quick Housekeeping! This was originally meant to be a song-fic but the only time I remembered to/felt inspired to write was nearly the middle of the night (as writers do lol) so I didn’t have enough mental energy to splice the lyrics together into the story. Instead, I listened to the song on repeat while writing, like, HALF of the fic but I thought it was cute enough to fit the vibes. The narrator's voice and descriptions were hard to keep consistent as well as concise, but whatever. I don’t think I properly matched Ruggie’s speech pattern but I think it’s close enough to ‘random, working class teenager’ for now.

Also! It’s an X Yuu but I’m pretty sure I used all GN! Pronouns so please feel free to read it as an X Reader (who’s the Ramshackle Perfect). It felt kinda awkward to not describe the character or use open descriptors (like Y/N, HC, etc.) but feel free to add any notes or styles to try out for an open reader audience. Honestly feel free to comment or message any feedback lol! I don’t have a beta reader atm (I might ask either my gf or my IRL friend who’s also into TWST) but it could be fun to have a random stranger react to my writing so they’re disconnected from personal feelings and whatnot.

 I have a fic introducing my oc a little interacting with the Pop Music Club, but it’s making out to be longer than expected so between writing for my own AU/ocs story I’ll be posting cute lil song-fics as well as crackhead interactions lol! Maybe a few headcanons as well. I’m not sure if I would have ever actually started writing fanfics (or writing in general) instead of simply daydreaming about it if it wasn’t for @twst-beam and @krenenbaker , so a quick dedication for them for lowkey lighting a fire under my ass. Not only have you opened the creative floodgates, but actually gave me the motivation to actually TRY and put it into action. Anyway…. ON TO THE STORY BITCHES!!! ENJOY THE THE SWEET HYENA BOY (who weirdly looks exactly like my Boyfriend, lol) AND COME REALISH IN THE CHAOS~

In A Sentimental Mood:

A Ruggie/Yuu one-shot

It had been a long day. Scratch that–it had been the longest year of Ruggie Bucchi and Yuu’s life! However, there was something especially trying these last 24 hours. Maybe it had something to do with how this was the first day off the both had (that lined up) in w e e k s and they STILL BOTH got called in to run some nonsensical errand. Or maybe it’s because when the First Year Squad were supposed to be babysitting Grim the entire first floor of Ramshackle got absolutely trashed. 

Something about stupid bets, idiotic magic competition, and a prolonged chase. Afterwards, Rugs and Yuu had to help clean up! The aftermath of the wreckage was too much for the Hodge Podge group of freshmen.

What really topped the day off was the mission impossible scheme the couple failed to pull off. Originally, the two were simply planning to “borrow” on one Leonas (numerous) credit cards while the latter was passed out for an all-expenses-paid date out. It’s not like they were about to rob the second prince blind! Just a few trips to their usual thrifting stops, maybe hassle with a local boutique and then some semi-fancy free grub. 

Instead they got caught two shops in when they decided to grab some food before being totally weighed down by paper shopping bags. Since they had a later start, Yuu suggested getting dinner to the new uppity wine-and-dine.

“C’mon Rugs~ When are we gonna have another chance to dine like Kings? And on a Royal Dime at that!” they foolishly (but successfully) tempted the poor Hyena into a little more Mischievous than the two realized.

Too bad their Dinner Date got cut short from one of the waiters recognizing the Sunset Savannah Royal Seal on Leona’s card. It took an hour and a half of being corralled into a backroom, 3 ominous threats of calling the police, snarky back talk and just general arguing before Leona strutted into the Restaurant and vouched for his underclassmen. Seeing the lazy Lion not only WAKE UP, but come off campus was a bit of a surprise for the thief couple. 

What wasn’t as surprising was his smug, diva face while declaring that they would need to pay him back for disturbing his nap. After hasty, and admittedly sheepish, promises to the Prince, he collected his missing card and strutted back to campus. Luckily, he was secretly a bit of a softy towards his unofficial Vice and the magicless Perfect that saved his life (and probably his status for not ratting him out to his older brother). It’s safe to say while making the switch a decent stack of Thaumarks was placed in Ruggie’s wallet.

So yeah, in a word, the day had been a bit of a shitshow. A clusterfuck of misfortunate events (and if it weren’t for Leona, Yuu and Ruggie would not only be in some kind of jail but also flat broke). 

But finally–finally–this hardworking hyena Beastman and the Ramshackle Perfect were about to have some peace and quiet! A moment for just the two of them. A small, precious moment late at night. After the longest night of their collective lives, the two were able to cuddle up and appreciate what they had. Even if all they had was encompassed by long, tiring days and horrendous luck… and having the bend to the whims of some of the brattiest Divas of NRC.

Regardless, this time isn’t about them. It’s about Ruggie Bucchi and Yuu enjoying what left they had of their day off, Damnnit!  

“Ya’ know,” Yuu hummed into where their face was buried for max comfort; Ruggie’s chest. “Today wasn’t a total bust.”

Ruggie snickered sarcastically as his left hand paused its petting motion through his significant other’s hair. He was clearly only humoring his lover's thought process, yet paying attention all the same.

“I’m just saying it wasn’t a total loss,” they began to half-jokingly argue, “I still got to spend the day with you. Besides, you gotta admit it was pretty funny watching that stupid manager’s annoying face drop when Prince Grumpy strutted in all pissy!”

“Shee Shee Shee! Fair enough, Sugar! Good thing he didn’t realize Leona’s always cranky… or that His Majesty~ was mostly just pissed he had to wake up.” Ruggie answered playfully.

“It was kinda sweet of him for letting us, mostly, off the hook though. He even let us keep our goodies along with that sneaky bonus,” Yuu mentioned while lazily motioning towards the small mound of shopping bags and the miscellaneous items inside.

“Pleeeease~ He probably spends more on a single earring than we did with his card and cash combined,” Rugs pouted enviously. To emphasize his pout, he completely encircled Yuu with his arms and clutched them tightly. He was hanging onto them tighter than a swiped snack from the cafeteria on Doughnut day.

“I don’t know,” his partner giggled in response, “Leona’s been such a softy lately… but his whole dark and brooding reputation gets in the way a bit.”

“Dark and brooding?” Ruggie snorted, “Dunno if Leona’s habits of lyin’ around counts as dark and brooding.”

Yuu tried to suppress their elated smirk at feeling the slight tremor of quiet laughter. “True, that’s more of Mal’s stick isn’t it? Angsty and depressed?”

“Nahhh, that’s Idia’s thing! Also, I still can’t wrap my head ‘round you calling Malleus by some nickname.” His laughter died down as he scrunched his nose at the thought of his partner so buddy-buddy with one of Twisted Wonderland’s most powerful mages. And a crown Prince… with servants and castles and-

“You do realize that Malleus is like a GIANT kid right? I mean, yeah he’s some super powerful wizard-”

“Mage!”

“...whatever. He’s an absolute beast when it comes to magic and whatnot, but he’s got this whole ‘homeschooled only child’ vibe going on and honestly? It’s a little pathetic, in a cute stray way.”

Ruggie didn’t really know how to feel about his partner’s revelation. On one hand, he knew they were just friends and had befriended each other longer before Yuu realized Malleus’ status. That didn’t necessarily make it any easier to cover up the inherent inferiority or the slight unsettling fear. Good thing they didn’t feel the usual pressure of this world’s social ladder… but that doesn’t mean they won’t start worrying if he stayed lost in thought for too long.

“.......what was your world like for you to turn out so weird?” 

“Hey!”

Ruggie continued to laugh, but it came out a little bit strained. Yuu finally glanced up in order to catch a glimpse of their boyfriend’s adorable pout.  His lightly scrunched eyebrows and the way his ears seemed to fold-in on themselves made him look like a grumpy puppy. Absurdly cute, but clearly bothered, and they both had had such a long day t wouldn’t be right not to cheer him back up!

“Oh, c’mere!” the Perfect said through teasing giggles as they flipped Ruggie over to switch positions.

Rugs was currently (and quite contently) snuggled face first into his lover's chest; enjoying the sound of their heartbeat along with the comfortable extra cushioning. His arms reached slightly down to wrap around their waist snuggly as the two pairs of legs naturally crisscrossed at the joints. The moment he fully relaxed was when Yuu started to softly pet his bushy hair and scratch along the base of his ears.

Pure Heaven.

“Were you getting grumpy because I kept mentioning Leona and Malleus?” the Perfect lovingly taunted now that he was trapped and attacked (with euphoric head scratches) in his weak spot. Truly, an idiots mirage of paradise.

“C’mon Sweet Cheeks! Ya Couldn’t’ve least let me keep my pride?” Rugs whined, quickly going back to frowning deeply but unable to hold it for long. There was no chance in all of Twisted Wonderland he could stay “upset” while his precious Dandelion Fluff’s fingers softly caressed his sensitive ears. At least he could cover-up the way he melted, burying himself further into their figure. Luckily, Yuu was already squeezing him closure with a burst of affection,

“Don’t worry, my silly Hyena, the only one I was focused on today was you. The only one I wanted to spend time with was you. And the only person I think of from dawn till dusk, and dream about the whole night through, will always be you, Ruggie Bucchi.” Yuu declared playfully, then slowly breathlessly serious with a sappy amount of affection as they watched Ruggie's tail wave faster and faster.

“Shee shee shee,” Rugs bashfully replied, “where did all that come from outta nowhere?”

Yuu wistfully sighed, “I guess I’m just in a sentimental mood.”

The two shared some playful hushed whispers until Ruggie had to turn his head to hide a yawn. His attempt was futile however, as Yuu caught it–but instead of teasing him over it they simply snuggled him closer and quietly sang an old, sweet crooner love song from their home world. Despite the long day, it felt blissfully short as the two peacefully drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms. 

[negative-speedforce]

Based on a convo I had with @vexic929

OCs are mine and Vexic's

"Alright, ladies and... Not ladies? Sometimes ladies? I don't know." Siv crossed her arms. Tonight's family night, take two. Now, don't give me that look, Eoland, we wouldn't be doing this if SOMEONE hadn't apparently thought that it was socially acceptable to murder your waiter because they got your order wrong. Thoughts and prayers to Kai, by the way, who's recovering surprisingly well from xir impromptu heart transplant."

"I'm not doing this." Eoland sneered.

"Do you want to be kicked out and sent back to your universe?" Siv raised an eyebrow. "Anyway, me and Berrie were talking, and we thought of something that you should be far less likely to murder someone with."

Berrie pulled a sheet off a whiteboard, which was covered in stick figure doodles shooting laser guns at each other. "We're going to Laser Tag!"

"No." Eoland scowled.

"Come on!" Berrie grabbed Eoland's arm, and Siv grabbed the other, pulling her outside.

"Get in the car, bitch." Siv opened the backseat door. "And no, you don't get shotgun because you tried to murder that waiter, and no, we can't just run there. I'm a lazy piece of shit, and Berrie's speed is acting up again."

"Why my doppelganger decided to have such an obnoxious child-"

"Don't care." Siv kicked Eoland in the butt, knocking her in the car. Eoland immediately stood up, phasing through the car.

"You-"

"I'm not scared of you, bitchtits. Get in the car before I call Barbara and tell her where you are."

"Fine." Eoland sat in the backseat.

Siv looked at Berrie. "Wanna drive?"

"I don't have my permit here."

"You have your permit from your earth, right?"

Berrie nodded. "Yeah."

"Eh, our driving laws are probably fairly similar. As long as you don't get us in a wreck, you should be fine." Siv shrugged. "Now, do you want to drive?"

Berrie cocked their head. "If you're sure."

"Absolutely. You could use the practice." Siv tossed the keys to Berrie.

After a short car ride peppered with at least three near scrapes with death and the headache inducing pounding bass of Berrie and Siv's playlist, the three Thawnes finally reached their destination, a building labelled "Harvey's Family Fun Center".

"Do we have to do this? Shouldn't we be focusing on taking down our enemies?"

"Barbara and my dad will be there in the morning." Siv approached the counter. "Three tickets for laser tag, please."

"Sure, whatever." The front desk lady, a college aged girl in heavy goth makeup, said in between blowing bubbles in her gum. "There's a group from some school here, if you don't mind being in there with them."

"That's fine." Siv replied. Eoland wouldn't kill a child, right?

"Cool, I guess. Vests and guns are in the room to the right."

"I'm not wearing that." Eoland looked down at the vests.

"You have to, otherwise they won't know if you've been shot."

"I still think this is ridiculous-" Eoland grimaced, glaring at one of the kids from the school group. "Remove your finger from your nose immediately, that's disgusting."

"He's like, eight, give him a break." Berrie shrugged. "Come on. Just one round. I promise you'll have fun."

Three rounds later, the laser tag arena was filled with the screams of terrified children.

"Die, pathetic brats!" Eoland screamed, dashing around the arena in a streak of red lightning, firing at the schoolchildren. Suddenly, as Eoland raised her gun to shoot at a kid, he shot her, her vest and gun making a loud beeping sound.

"Mommy!" The third grader who Eoland was chasing cried, a wet spot forming at the seat of his pants.

"That's right, cry for your mother." Eoland grinned, vibrating her hand. "But no one is going to coming to save you now."

As Eoland raised her hand to strike down the child, a second blurry streak of scarlet lightning hit her, knocking her over and giving the child a chance to escape.

"Eoland Fucking Thawne!" Siv growled. "What the actual fuck? I thought you were better than this! Seriously! That is a child!"

"A child that has wronged me for the last time." Eoland sneered.

"He shot you. It's not a big deal. That's literally the point of this game." Siv pinched the bridge of their nose. "Alright. That's it. If you can't play nice with literal children, we're going home. Berrie!"

"What?" Berrie poked her head around the corner.

"We're going home. SOMEONE thinks it's acceptable to murder children."

"Eoland..." Berrie sighed and shook their head.

"Come on, pack it up. No one's dying tonight on my watch."

[hypocriticaltypwriter]

bc im bored and bc i wanna see ppl rant about their ocs

i order you to rant abt ur rottmnt oc, gimme every single detail, just let it all out and have fun

OMG I've been waiting for an ask like this!!! LOL I HAVE IT ALL WRITTEN DOWN AND EVERYTHING 💀😭🙏 TYSM ^^

Tamsin is 15 years old all through season 1, 16 in season two, and 17 in the movie! While most moments with her via future, she ranges from 21-42.

Tamsin is super laid back and kinda has that Surfer dude attitude some of the older iterations of the guys had, but she's also super outgoing and ready for anything, wether it be a dance party, or a girls day out with April going mall shopping... Or fighting a bunch of Foot Clan soldiers and going on a car chase after Warren and Hypno.

Unlike her poor gal-pal, April, Tamsin has a job! While it's not the greatest, little pay, and maybe a bit rat infested, she's glad she has it. She works at a 60s themes burger joint, you know the kind with roller-skating waiters and waitresses? Yep, that's Tams. Speaking of which, she is very skilled in skating! It's one of the things she uses when keeping up with Badguys or the Turtles.

While Tamsin seems super chill, she does have this... Competitive side...

You see, she's a people pleaser - always has been since it's what she seeks from her mother and father desperately.

Her whole life she'd spend trying to seek the approval and attention of her parents, whether it be learning the piano or joint the swim team- Tamsins grown up involved in MANY things - specifically sports.

Tamsin plays baseball, basketball, tennis, softball, she's still on the swim team, and she does track, karate, and hockey.

Is she good at all of these... Depends. Does she have that scary competitive spirit that somehow makes her survive through all of these?- defitnely yes.

There is one thing that Tamsin finds herself quite good at and definitely has her eyes set out on achieving moreover in life, and that's boxing/the wrestling team.

Tamsin is a grade A rough houser who likes the thrill and easy blowing off steam exercise that is these two sports give her- and she's pretty good at it with her brute force and just ready to throw hands whenever wherever.

So yeah, you can either have a Sweet hearted, completely chilled out Tamsin. Or you can decide to invite her to some late night basketball and get a basketball to the head at least twelve times - whether on accident or on purpose. (Sorry Raph-)

Tamsin's Role In TMNT

Her role in every iteration is the one behind the camera for our one and only April O'Neil. She's her right hand in all the reports and stories April can get her hands on.

I was kinda sad we didn't get to see (or rarely saw if you consider the movie) was Rise April and her classic News Reporter role we mostly got through the iterations, but they also made her a teen still in highschool. And it got my thinking... What's something that can keep people updated or have a good gossip, but anyone of any age can do?

A podcast/YouTube videos!

And who better to help the girl out than Tamsin as the video recorder and editor!

While thinking about this too, I also noticed that in highschool, April wasn't exactly 'popular' but she wasn't like- a person people hated or shitted on, she was just kinda there, maybe a bit invisible.

So I feel the same would be for Tamsin, which is why they stick together most of the time, so their channel only had up to 2 subscribers (note, one of those subs is Tam herself)

How she met the guys

So how I feel a Rise episode would play out is Tamsin and April just finished up a little video, April being just a bit down about it, knowing they won't get as much attention on it as she likes. Tamsin tries cheering her up with an idea to go out for a bite and maybe some karaoke or something else fun.

April overall agrees, letting the two set off on a late night adventure.

One thing April kinda forgot was that she's, you know, quite a target for some of the sudden odd dangers of New York given the group of certain friends she hands out with, and it ends up with her, and a very afraid/confused Tamsin getting caught by the Foot Clan.

Of course, after some silly goofy ahh banter, four shadowy figures come to save them. April knows who it is obviously and is very relieved... Tamsin, however...

These are four tall, big, green monsters that just took down an entire freaking army of weird ass cultists, and from where she's looking, attacking her friend (group hug)

So against better judgment, a good five minutes are spent of April trying to pry a metal pipe out of Tamsins' hands as she tries to attack Leo.

A moment it's taken to explain and introduce everyone, and Tamsin is slightly put to ease, willing to give these four supposed turtles benefit of the doubt.

And hopefully to the end of the episode, April is talking to Donnie, he's explaining how he found quite inconvenient that she and her little friend were in peril just as he was in the middle kf watching their latest YouTube video.

[auxiliarydetective]

The OC Halloween Challenge - Day 11

You can find the challenge here!

Today's prompt was...

The Killer

They’re haunted and bloodthirsty, compelling in a dangerous way. Everyone has a monster within but due to some tragic backstory of abuse, hate, or ridicule, these people – or things– let the monster win. Whether they done a mask or turn your dreams into sentient nightmares, they’re the main reason why anybody shows up to movie night. Which one of your ocs looks into the reflection of the knife in their hand, and pictures themselves chopping up human bodies instead of vegetables?

First of all, R.I.P. to the killer's victims, potential killers in their own right who had to give their final bow to the one murderer to rule them all:

Philomel, who kills out of love

Honey Penelope, the silent terror who has finally snapped

Charlotte Inari, who turns killing into a child's game

And now, the blood-bathed master...

Akaito Coraline!

Zoro sat down at the bar. He had been marching through nothingness all day and desperately needed a drink.

"Waiter, a beer, please," he said lowly and was quickly served.

At the table closest to the bar sat a group of four men. One had a gun attached to his belt, another carried an axe, a third rested a longsword against his leg, and the last had a set of daggers strapped to his chest and back. They were having an intense conversation as the axe guy told a story. Zoro wasn't really interested in anything they had to say, but he picked up bits and pieces. Something about bounty hunting and chasing a pirate crew across an island. The axe man had just reached his dramatic finish, boasting about how he had almost caught up to the crew and been about to bludgeon their brains with his weapon.

"But you didn't get 'em," longsword guy concluded with a chuckle. He took a sip of his drink.

"I did!"

"But you only got half the captain's bounty?" The gunslinger scoffed. "Come on, what happened?"

"Let me guess," the dagger man threw in, "someone got him before you did? Was it Roronoa Zoro, the demon?"

"No, she was worse," the storyteller said in a hiss. "Anyone who calls him a demon hasn't met her yet."

Now, they had Zoro's attention. He eyed them descreetly, listening closely.

"She appeared out of nowhere. Damn fast, almost impossible to see. I only knew she was there when one of the pirates screamed. The next one was dead before the first one had even finished dropping to the floor. She mowed through the crowd like a devil until there was nobody left standing. Ten people, in a matter of seconds. And then she looked at me. She would've killed me too if I hadn't promised her half the bounty. But she wanted more. She wanted the captain's blood. For her collection, she said. Then, I noticed the needle pierced through her ear."

"No way!" the gunslinger gasped. "An Akaito?!"

"At least she claimed that, yeah. And you haven't even heard the worst: She uses the blood she gathers from her victims to dye her fabrics. That's why they're so fucking expensive. They're made with blood."

Zoro turned away with an annoyed scoff. That couldn't be true. Right?

[twisted-funderland]

Octavinelle OC Fun Facts

-All of them are mermaids

-Morgan is Azul's younger brother. They got along as kids, but not so much anymore.

-Tuck claims that he used to be much bigger and stronger, but he got cursed into his current small form. Nobody knows if this is the truth or not.

-If someone annoys him Claude will turn a personal object of theirs invisible and watch them endlessly search for it.

-Derek prefers not to speak most of the time. When he does speak it's usually an insult.

-They all work in Mostro Lounge. Morgan is a host. Tuck and Claude are both servers. Derek works in the kitchen.

-Morgan is very proud that he is an excellent flyer with natural talent, despite living the ocean his whole life.

-Tuck joined the Science club in hopes of finding a cure for his curse. He gets taken to the infirmary more often than others due to drinking random potions.

-The first time Claude heard somebody playing a trumpet he instantly hated the sound and decided it was his least favorite.

-Derek used to be a waiter, however Azul moved him to the kitchen staff because he kept insulting the customers.

-Morgan and Tuck were getting chased by the Leech twins when they saw the Rays and hid under the bench they were on. Claude and Derek didn't rat them out and eventually the Leech twins left. On that day Morgan declared that the two are instantly friends with him and Tuck. Claude and Derek just went along with it.

-They all do nice things for each other, even when they don't say nice things. Morgan lets Derek practice nail art on him. Derek will help Tuck reach things on high shelves. Tuck will give Claude random seashells because he knows the Ray likes them. Claude knits stuffed animals for Morgan and leaves them in his dorm room.

[ruvviks]

🖋 + one u haven’t done yet 👀

oc asks!

eren is the latest addition to the cyberponk blorboverse >:^) i'm sorry i keep adding new guys but it's so much FUN OK and he's just some guy this time. small addition to cassidy's story but adds so much flavor and i love him

eren is a waiter at a diner in the glen, one that seb and cassidy visit a lot! he was born outside the nusa and moved there when he was 14 years old, and he didn't have a lot of friends because his family kept moving around for different job offers for his parents. he ended up in night city when he was 18 and he was still some years in high school at that point because of the constant moving, and understandably so did not want to go study more when he was finally done three years later

he ended up moving out, getting his license, got a nice little job and had everything sorted out for himself basically, until at some point he got in a car accident caused by a police chase. ncpd vehicle rammed him into the guardrail and he and the car toppled over and he ended up needing eye surgery following the crash, which left him with visible cyberware around his right eye despite never even wanting cyberware in the first place :(

however, the accident made him VERY nervous about something like that happening again and he got additional cyberware (lining and plating mostly) installed around his face and on his temples, kind of as like. extra protection for his skull basically SGHJFDGKDF and it works!! but also it was mostly an out of fear decision and not really something he actively wanted. but he's grown attached to it now :) it looks very good on him

he's now moved back to his parents' home and helps them with taking care of his younger sister who's disabled and because of that can't live on her own. he loves his job at the diner and it's within walking distance so he never has to drive ever again and he's very much hoping to keep it that way forever and ever

he mostly becomes relevant in the story because he ends up being interested in cassidy who also has a little crush on him for a while. they go on a single date together but both immediately realize it's not gonna work out mainly because cassidy is just very deeply in love with someone else and is just trying to figure out what he's feeling. they DO however keep contact and become very good friends and eren often hangs out with cassidy :D he knows about cassidy's life as a mercenary and mostly just stays out of that because he's not a fighter at all but he does genuinely enjoy hanging out with him and all his other friends as long as it's just. to watch a movie or something like that SGKFDKGDFJG

eren is a very cheery guy, incredibly witty, always knows exactly what to say to cheer people up. in general very distrusting of cops and gangs alike and doesn't like being in traffic at all so he spends as little time as possible outside. he Does like going to the park though :) there's more parks in the night city in my brain than in the one in-game. he often takes his sister there :D

[brokenhcrt]

PINNED POST!

indie sideblog for my fandomless ocs. this blog is 21+, and my partners are to also be 21+. mun is 27

follows from: drummerdaines

low / sporadic activity. default muse is MADDOX LAKE if no muse is stated. opens memes navigation

maddox lake, model & bridesmade for hire, 25, sabrina carpenter | witch, bisexual phoenix hastner, receoptionist for a law firm, 25, joe keery, gay storm simms, lead guitarist & writer for vulgar crown, 22 - 29, joe quinn, pansexual theodora winifred, jobless, 140 ( immortal ), grace van dien, bisexual ashlee georgia, job tba, 25, miles robins | ghost human hybrid, bisexual mylene baines, librian, 48, leigh anne pinnock ( main ) | demon,bisexual sky carpenter, telemarketer, 50, mackenyu ( main ) | demon, bisexual whitney gibbs, horror com youtuber / gamer / twitch streamer, 25, adeline rudolph, bisexual tiffany 'tink' bell, retail worker, 26, katherine mcnamara, pansexual bianca winters, ice rink employee, 26. courtney eaton | winter spirit, pansexual harlow beaumont, ex childstar, waiter, 24 ( subjected to change ), charlie gillespie bisexual alexander wright jr, mechanic, 25 ( subjected to change ), jeremy shada, bisexual lavender henderson, lead singer of unholy martyr, 27, karen fukuhara bisexual mary castro, guitarist for unholy martyr, 26, camilla mendes lesbian

mun uses animated icons for ooc posts

blogroll:

drummerdaines ( oc drummer for a heavy metal band ; FOLLOWS FROM HERE )

piecedpirates ( mumu one piece ; main prioity / fixation )

wiildhcartsrun ( resource / writing blog ) 

hollowkidds ( ma.yahart & fark.leminkus )

rules:

basics

21+ for rp partners. this is a sideblog so follows will come from drummerdaines, who is a muse linked with storm

once sm.ut starts to happen, icons / gifs will be dropped out of respect for those who created the ones i use, a banner will be used in it's place , this made by cafekitsune

nsfw comes in many forms and i welcome all types as i do like my horror

blog runs on a queue & is low priorty ; i mainly work with muse instead of trying to force it

i am open to writing on discord, and have many more muses avalaible there too, including canon characters

will give out my discord to those intersted in it

due running three other blogs, i will be putting focus onto replies for here on saturdays and sundays. with piecedpirates getting most of my attention during the week though of course if something is giving me dopamine, i will chase that

will not

ship with muses under 18, prefered to not interact with muses under 18

ship minor x adult, incest ( inlcuding foster, adoptive & step )

write with characters like the grabber or pennywise

banned faces are: the dead, abusers, john.nydeep, amb.erheard, no.ahschnapp, chi.naannemc.lain, tay.lorswit, jos.huabassett

specfic bans, these fc aren't banned overall, i just wont engage in a romantic / shippy plot with: bar.rykeoghan fc with maddox and jose.phquinn fc with theo, gracevandien fc with storm. sorry h3llch33r fans ruined this for me

write with people writing real people, including wwe stars as their 'characters'

[firstaidspray]

Birthday Countdown Revchase Snippets - Day 19

To celebrate Valentine's month as well as my birthday month, I'm going to post a snippet of Revchase every day until my birthday, using these prompts- there are 25 so it leads right up to my birthday!! Here is day 19, which has to do with that poll I put up yesterday lol.

19- Write about your ship going on a casual date.

Pairing: Robert Chase/Reverie (oc)

Media: House MD

Word Count: 875

Rating: M (just in case it's only suggestive but yknow)

CW: Suggestive situation and dialogue

Some may argue that eating at the hospital cafeteria after their shifts end is a date. Some may argue that it is not. Reverie and Chase are the type to have this argument, because they have spent many times at the end of their shift at the hospital cafeteria, and each time, it's a conflict as to what exactly this ritual should be called.

“It's a date,” Reverie says, gesturing to the table where only they are seated. “It's the two of us alone, sitting at a table eating, hanging out and talking. We're dating. So it's a date.”

Chase scoffs. “Just because we are dating doesn't mean this is a date, Rev. If you think this is a date, I need to take you out more. I'll take you surfing this weekend.”

Reverie crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. “Just because we're dating doesn't make that a date,” she mocks him. “It's surfing together. If that's a date, so is this.”

“I'll get someone to agree with me,” Chase says, taking a sip of his soda. “Alright. If this is a date, we're going to make date small talk. How was your day, luv?”

She smirks. “It was very productive. I assisted with a particularly touch-and-go lung transplant. And you?”

“Really? Surgery is date talk to you?” Chase laughs, smiling that pretty smile of his. It makes Reverie blush.

“Yes. Now tell me about your day,” she asks, pointing at him.

Chase sighs. “Okay, we're still playing this game. Well, House got a patient that has a mysterious rash. Sent me and Park to his house, found some perfume. First, we thought the rash was from the perfume, and shocker, it wasn't. We're running some tests overnight. Tomorrow we'll know more. Now, Rev, was that really a good date conversation?”

She playfully bites her straw. “Yes, it was. Now, can I say that you look very sexy tonight? On this date?”

He scoffs and looks down at his clothes– he had no time to change back into his street clothes, so he still has on his scrubs and the grey undershirt pushed up to his elbows.

“It's so cute to me that you think this, of all things, is sexy,” Chase laughs, gesturing to himself.

Reverie continues to bite her straw and twirl her hair around her finger. “Well, you look good in scrubs. What can I say? Scrubs, wetsuits, your leather jacket, your white coat…all sexy.”

Chase smiles and actually blushes at this. “Please. You wear scrubs better than me. And wetsuits. And the times you've stolen my jackets, you looked pretty hot.”

“Not as hot as you,” she says with a click of her tongue. “Is this proper date talk?”

He shrugs. “Better than before. But you'll have to do a little more than that to convince me this is a date.”

Reverie narrows her eyes. “Fine then.”

In a stroke of possible luck, she spots Wilson walking through the cafeteria. She smirks as she gets an idea, then whistles at him.

“Oi! Wilson! C'mere!” She calls.

Wilson walks over, his thick eyebrows knit in confusion. “What's wrong?”

“Why do you assume something is wrong, waiter?” Reverie asks playfully. “My date and I will have two ice cream sandwiches, please.”

Catching on to what game Reverie is playing, Wilson laughs. “And you'll pay me back for that?”

“Yes, just go along with it!” Reverie Hisses.

“Okay,” Wilson says, heading to the counter. He returns a while later and hands them their dessert. “Two ice cream sandwiches for the lovely couple.”

Chase sighs and rolls his eyes. “Wilson, you don't seriously believe this counts as a date, do you?”

Both he and Reverie's eyes widen when Chase catches Reverie giving him the change for the desserts. But both return to the little game, and Wilson sighs.

“I'm not here to get in the middle of your date,” he says, “just to provide your dessert as a waiter. Is there anything else I can get for you?”

Chase groans and Reverie waves him off. “No, that will be all. Thank you.”

Wilson shrugs and leaves the table, and Chase unwraps his ice cream sandwich.

“Might as well eat this, not let our “dessert” go to waste,” Chase says as he takes a bite. “These are actually really good, for hospital cafeteria food.”

Reverie nods as she bites into her own. “Yep. ‘Cause they're meant for dates.”

He rolls his eyes. “Seriously, you're still on that?”

She sighs and pouts. “What can I do to convince you this is a date, luv?”

“That's for you to figure out,” he responds, biting into his dessert.

Reverie shrugs. “Okay. Call it a date, and I'll make it worth your while.”

Chase raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

He feels something under the table and looks over at Reverie, smiling innocently as she reaches under. Chase's face lights up pink and he swallows nervously.

“Okay, okay, it's a date, it's a date, this has been a date!”

Reverie nods. “That's what I thought you'd say. Wanna finish this “date” at home?”

Chase nods furiously. “Yes, oh my God, yes. Go get in the car.”

“Yes sir,” she replies playfully, standing up and heading for the door.

[yuzukult]

for write it & weep! jaehyun + fake dating + #36

title: your cherry lip gloss pairing: jaehyun x oc genre: angst, fake dating, unrequited love, best friends wc: 1945 quote: “can you just pretend? for me?” warnings: profanity, unhappy ending a/n: sorry for the delay!! and also,, sorry if this wasn't what you were hoping for HELP, i went for the angst route instead of an angst one ;n;

He’s got a smile that you’d die for.

It’s a bit corny to quote an old Jonas Brothers lyric, but something about their older songs just reach into your heart and steal the words you’ve been having a hard time searching to say. Every time you look at him, your mouth goes dry, your chest tightens, and your stomach flutters. How could just looking at someone so beautiful have the impact of Medusa’s stare? You’re locked, turned to stone, and unsure how to get out of this stance.

“Well?” He asks, interrupting your thoughts. “Can you just pretend? For me?”

If you say yes, you’ll know how it feels to be his girlfriend. You’ll finally get a glimpse into the world of being loved by him, and you'll get to live the dream of feeling his hands in yours. A kiss seems doubtful, but you’ll take the little things if it means you got a chance to know how it is to be his.

Yet at the same time, everything wouldn’t be real.

Although that didn’t seem to be a problem at the time despite you running your fingers through your hair and sighing deeply in contemplation. Eyes closed, you let yourself fully sink into the dilemma you’re in: You’re going to be Jaehyun’s fake girlfriend.

But when your eyes open, your gaze meets with the pretty boy who sits across from you at this café. Ice americano in front of him, the outside of the cup dripping in condensation, it remains untouched because he’s been anxious about your answer the entire time.

“I’ll do it.”

It was a mistake.

It was a mistake because he looks sweet. He’s charming, handsome, and nearly has you stumbling over your own toes when you’re so caught up on him. It’s supposed to remain platonic, despite the situation he put you in, but being his fake girlfriend only makes you wish this was real.

“I didn’t know he had a girlfriend,” the gorgeous woman in front of you says through her gritted, strangely overly white and straightened teeth. She seems angry, and the way she crosses her arms over her chest aggressively gives it away. Least she looks pretty in that strapless lavender dress, right? “Especially her. Why would you hide that from me, Jaehyun? I thought you said you guys were just friends.”

Jaehyun looks anxious but at the same time you notice the familiar glimmer in his eyes. It’s the same one that appears when you look at him.

He still loves her.

“I didn’t feel like you needed to know, especially since you’re engaged now. Plus, I can do as I please, without your permission. Now if you excuse me, we’re going to enjoy my sister’s wedding.”

He’s hurt. You could feel it in the way he tightens his grip on your hand for a brief moment, and when you see his jaw tensing, it only clutches your heart instead.

When you agreed to be his date to his sister’s wedding, to pretend to be his girlfriend, you didn’t know it would come to this. You knew that his ex-girlfriend would be here, and she’d be flaunting her new shimmering engagement ring that adorns her finger—it’s why he asked you here in the first place. But you’ll never understand how someone as great as him was still infatuated with a girl like that. Sure, she was beautiful, but the hideous beast inside of her wasn’t something worth chasing for.

He pulls you aside, stealing a drink off the tray from one of the waiters and doesn’t hesitate to down a fourth of a glass of whiskey. It’s bitter on his tongue, but goes down with ease, even if the initial taste had a little sting. Anything is better than how she made him feel.

“Are you okay?” You eventually ask. Adjusting your stance in those black heels you’d save for special occasions, you’d hope he would notice how pretty you looked tonight in this black slip dress of yours—it wasn’t tight and as revealing as hers but in your wildest fantasies, he’d see you and fall for you instead.

“How could she want to break up, move on, and expect me not to?” Jaehyun snarls, agitated at the meeting with his ex. He doesn’t let it go, and you wonder if he’ll ever let go of her. “I bring a date, but she makes it sound like I’m not allowed to. Why is she allowed to find someone else but I can’t?”

“She’s not that great,” you blurt, and for the first time that night, he looks at you.

It’s not that movie-like moment where the world around the two of you stops, where his eyes would finally hint that love you always dreamed to find, and he’s not stunned by your beauty nor his realization that he’s been in love with you this entire time.

He’s annoyed, angry, even.

“How could you say that about her?”

You scoff. “How could you not? She’s terrible. Led you on for years, and when you finally dated, she kept hurting you. You found her cheating on you in college with your fucking teammate, for god’s sake. She probably fucked your entire football team.”

Jaehyun furrows his brows. “They were mistakes. She was lost—she didn’t mean to do that—”

“Stop defending someone who doesn’t need it, nor wants it for that matter,” you exasperate, letting out a heavy breath before rubbing your forehead in distress. “You know what—I’m going to leave. I should’ve known this was a mistake from the beginning, I shouldn’t have come—”

Jaehyun reaches over to grab your wrist. “Don’t go. Why are you leaving? We’re just having a little disagreement.”

The fronts of your brows dip in disbelief. “Not to be such a party pooper, but it has never been about this little disagreement we have over that.”

“I keep telling you, she’s amazing. Deep down, past all those things she did to hurt me, she’s great. She’s smart, funny, kind—”

“This is what I’m talking about.”

Luckily enough, the two of you were far out enough in a secluded area where people couldn’t hear. The crowd is far, but you can see Jaehyun’s sister at the reception, greeting family and friends as they enter the venue. The wedding hasn’t even started yet and you’re already backing out. Part of you wishes that one day, it could’ve been the two of you there. Exchanging your vows, laughing luminously while sharing stories how best friends could potentially become lovers. But it wasn’t like that, and clichés seem to remain in the romcom movies for a reason.

This weekend was full of moments that felt too real. From when he first introduced you to his parents as his girlfriend, and the brightened expressions on their faces. And his sister, when she gave you that talk in the kitchen a few nights before as you both shared the task of washing the dishes, letting you know that his past shouldn’t haunt him anymore. Or when his grandparents held your hands eagerly, hoping that one day, it would be you with a ring on your finger that Jaehyun would have given.

But those things are just delusions. He made it clear that he’s not over his past, and evidently won’t ever see you in that light.

He tilts his head. “What are you talking about?”

“That you’ve been talking about your ex-girlfriend in a way that I wished you talked about me in. How you look at her with that sparkle in your eyes like she’s the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen and I’ve been standing here by your side the entire time. I’ve been trying to mend your heart every time she breaks it, and hoping that one day, as I’m picking up the pieces and hurting myself in the process, you’d see me.”

His expression softens, and he loosens his grip on your wrist to reach out to touch your shoulder comfortingly, only for you to take a step back. “But you’re my best friend.”

“And as your best friend, I’ve mustered all the courage I could to help you heal from the wounds she caused. Fuck, Jaehyun, I don’t think I can do this anymore.” And with a deep breath, you let it out in ease slowly. “I’m in love with you, Jaehyun.”

“I’m not—I don’t know what to say,” he admits, a little too truthfully. “I’ve never considered you in that way before.”

With a forced smile, you nod in confirmation.

You don’t hate him, you could never. He’s the guy you’ve been in love with for so many years, but it’s time to be selfish for once and do things for you. You can’t become the girl who sits around for decades just to wait for him to notice you’ve been here all along. You have too much self respect for that.

“Don’t go,” he calls out softly. “You’re my best friend, don’t leave.”

“Please don’t tell me that if you’re not in love with me enough to ask me to stay.”

He’s hesitant, but he finally releases his hold on you and you could feel the weight off your chest and shoulders lighten.

“I’m just going to stay long enough for them to exchange their vowels. I’ll leave after, send my respects, and grab my stuff from your room. I’m going to head back home to the city, and we could just… forget this ever happened. I’ll go my own way.”

And just like that, as he watches your silhouette go through the crowds, he feels a different kind of pain that goes through his heart.

It feels like a piercing instead of a clenching, worse than what it’s like when he caught his ex-girlfriend sleeping with his teammate in college. You weren’t some girl he dated, and the love he had for you wasn’t like the one he had for his ex-girlfriend. He felt hurt when she walked away but you made him feel like part of him was missing the moment you said goodbye.

Which begs the question: did he love you? Could he ever love you?

You were right when you said he missed the opportunity to come to the realization that he’d been in love with you this entire time. He’d been so caught up in his feelings for his ex, he didn’t notice how pretty you looked underneath these lights. How your cherry tinted lips shined from the reflection on your gloss, how your lashes brushed against the highs of your cheeks, and how melodious your laugh was when you exchanged words with his sister. His ex was gorgeous, but you were a different kind of gorgeous.

Breathtakingly.

You were there—right under his nose and he’s wondering if he lost his chances with you. He doesn’t know if he could love you like he loved his ex-girlfriend, but what he’s slowly realizing is that he doesn’t hate the idea of becoming in love with you. You make him laugh, you’re honest with him, and you challenge him to do things that’ll make him a better version of himself. You’re understanding, you take care of him, and even when he’s at his worst, you’re still there.

Have you always been this… stunning?

Was the chance of him ever falling in love with you thinning because he’d been so blinded by his ex?

When you tuck your hair behind your ear, turn to pose for a photo with his sister, his breath gets caught in his throat.

Maybe he’s been in love with you all along but he was too distracted to see it.

Was it too late?

[tommydoesntpayforsuits]

Among the Whisperings and the Champagne and the Stars

Summary: Ella goes to one of Mr. Shelby's famous Poughkeepsie parties. Safe to say she's not enjoying herself. Someone turns the night around.

Word Count: 5491 words

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Warnings: season 3 spoilers, sex references, drinking, fluff, unbetad.

Author’s Note: I really love these little celebrations Sophie does, they’re so nice and they bring the community together. I chose The Great Gatsby. I made Tommy a little bit more cheeky for no particular reason. He’s obviously not always like that, but I imagine that, like Gatsby, he would have to act a little charismatic.

I tried imitating F. Scott Fitzgerald’s style, but I think I failed miserably. Which is actually embarrassing, because I had to study his entire writing style for a year.

Posting this before I lose my mind editing.

MASTERLIST

Tommy Shelby SFW Taglist

“Do you think we’ll meet him?”

Clutching Sarah's hand, I helped her out of the cab. She had on the tallest heels I’ve ever seen, and goddamn her for it. Now I have to steer her around. If she could walk by herself, I wouldn’t care what she wore.

I rolled my eyes. “Who cares?!”

Sarah hadn’t stopped talking incessantly about the mysterious Mr. Shelby. How he was so rich, how handsome he was rumoured to be, how he donates so much for charity. I did wonder where she got all this information from, but Sarah is probably connected to some grape vine somewhere. At this point, I felt like I knew more about Mr. Shelby than Mr. Shelby himself.

“—And, supposedly, he was a spy in the war!” she added, leaning in conspiratorially as if it was some grand secret.

“Really?” I rose a sceptical brow. “And who did you hear this from?”

Sarah ignored me, and gasped. “Oh, my God…” Her eyes grew wide.

I followed her eyeline— and my jaw went slack.

Tall fountains in manicured gardens with cobblestoned pathways lead to a beautiful, modern mansion. A palace. With high towers, gold adornments and decorative vines clinging to stone walls— putting Buckingham to shame. Outside was relatively quiet, only a few people keeping out of the way. But the doorway shone like gold, music drawing us in, the beat thumping like a heart beat. The night was alive, and it was calling.

Sarah and I gaped at each other, starry-eyed. With a squeal, we scuttled inside, gripping each other’s hands and ignoring the curious stares of the loiterers, skirts billowing after us and heels clicking clumsily through the dark.

Inside was bouncing with energy and excitement. The arch doorway led to an unlit hallway, packed with people drinking and chatting boisterously. Through there opened a grand, luscious ballroom— completely paved with marble floors, high walls held up by golden pillars, the ceiling painted with swirling gold patterns. Round tables with white table cloths were stationed around the first half of the room, leaving space for dancing. There was a gold-adorned staircase where men chased giggling women up and down like teasing children. At the very top, a gentleman popped a bottle of champagne so loudly, everyone’s heads whipped to look. He roared as he sprayed it, hands dripping with foam. A few ladies around him laughed as they got soaked, defending themselves with their arms. Only a couple moved away, but one moved closer and deliberately standing in the way and opening her mouth. He directed the spray to her mouth, and she stuck her tongue out as if she was catching snowflakes.

On the other side of the hall, there was a jazz band performing. The saxophonist had a solo at that moment. I gasped as he made the most amazing trills, baffled by his talent, before the trumpeter cut in to flex his own moves. Handsome waiters sped around the room, balancing trays of drinks and cigars and snacks. One of them brushed past Sara, giving her a generous eye and slanted smirk. Her eyes followed him, evidently spellbound.

We took everything in with such wonder and astonishment. Sarah would have surely tripped and fallen on her face had she not be clinging to my arm. Not that I could talk, I was behaving like an idiot myself. It’s one thing to see it in the newspapers and hear of past visitors fantastical tales, but to be standing before it, to behold all this wealth, all this luxury— it was a spectacle one surely wasn’t to miss.

My cheeks began to ache from my wide grin.

Sarah looked back at me, a mischievous glimmer in her eye. “Let’s have some fun.”

​​

Fifteen minutes into dancing, Sarah had vanished with nothing more than a “Don’t wait for me.” Dragging the very same waiter down a hidden corridor by his wrist— what they do is between them and God alone. I wondered momentarily if Mr. Shelby would be blessing us with his presence this evening. From what I’d heard around the mill, he didn’t attend his own parties— which would lead one to question why he’s even hosting them in the first place. Why would anyone subject themselves — every weekend, might I add — to strangers waltzing into his house to eat him out of house and home, and to perform lewd acts in shadowed corners, only for him to not benefit the pleasure of their company? I rarely have any parties even on holidays, solely because it’s so much work. Though, I suppose a man who sits in these types of luxuries wouldn’t be cleaning after himself.

As a curious stranger standing in a shadowed corner of my own, sipping my drink, I felt like the most boring person in the room (which, I probably was).

Why was I here? Sarah was gone— well, surely I should wait for her, even though she insisted I didn’t. Although, I would never advise anyone to defy Sarah’s orders. Besides, she’d only been gone twenty minutes, and I imagine she hasn’t finished her– I choked on my drink— activities.

Sarah did this regularly, and every time I fell for it— like the idiot I was. She demands I go to this party, or festival, or whatever of the like, with her; and then proceeds to leave me, in a room full of people, whilst she goes off with some man or some woman (or sometimes both). I’ve tried to confront her about it, but she’s only insisted that I need to just mingle amongst the crowds alone (“You know, crawl out of your shell, a little!”).

I liked my shell. I don’t mind if Sarah wanted to have adventures of her own, but I just didn’t understand why she had to drag me with her, why she had to ignore me standing my ground because I knew how the night was going to end. For some reason, I always seem to forget how much I hate going to these things whenever she begs me.

I leaned against the wall, nestling against a pillar for my only company. Maybe I should just go home, this clearly isn’t for me. Just get into my pyjamas and read that book I was trying to get through earlier. Maybe open a bottle of wine.

A curious, almost wet sound caught my attention, followed by what appeared to be heavy breathing. I craned my head to a dark, empty hallway, where there were two dark figures. At the sight of one of them lowering themselves to their knees. For a moment, I thought that I was watching a proposal. Only when I heard what was unmistakeably a moan, did I realise what was happening.

A gasp caught in my throat. I pushed away from the pillar and rushed away before I knew where I was off to. Whatever enchantment this place put on me, the magic had long worn off.

Once the cold, fresh air hit my skin. It was stuffy and suffocating in there. My head was pounding so hard from the music and my flesh was crawling with disgust. The cold air reached my lungs. I shivered the tenseness away.

Of all the things to witness, that wasn’t what I was expecting. This undoubtedly happened in the other parties Sarah dragged me to, but I never saw it myself. I was either extremely lucky or the couples went about their business privately. Honestly, I’m surprised I went this long without seeing something like that.

I rushed down the steps, unsure where I was already. The Shelby gardens were large and abstract, almost like a labyrinth. Wandering through it, I found the deeper I went, the fewer people I found— so I went deeper. I couldn’t ignore the growing anger in my stomach with every step. Unbelievable. I swear this is the last time I let Sarah do this— and this time I meant it. I’m not falling for her begging or her demands or her incessant picking—

“Good evening.”

I jumped, snapping out of my head. I seemed to have stepped onto a little clearing between the twists and turns in the maze. There was a man in a tuxedo, siting on a wide stone bench, alone. He was limply holding a glass of whiskey (I didn’t remember that being offered at the party) in one hand and a dimly lit cigarette in the other. I couldn’t see his face very well, the only light available were the small decorative bulbs around the gardens, but I could tell he had dark hair and pale skin.

My feet were already retreating. “Oh. I’m sorry.” I said. “I didn’t realise anyone was here.”

Before I could flee into the maze once more, the man spoke again: “It’s alright. You don’t need to leave.” His words were slightly muffled, but there was a clear midland, English accent. When I looked at him again, he pinched a cigarette from his lips. “I don’t mind the company.”

I smiled politely, wandering back to my initial spot, feet planted in the middle of the little clearing. I swallowed, eyes fluttering to every bush, every twig, every tile on the ground instead of meeting his gaze. It was too quiet. As if every forest animal that must inhabit these bushes decided to unanimously stop existing, just to toy with us. My muscles ached with tension.

The man rose to hit feet, cigarette dangling from his lips as he buttoned his suit jacket. I was grateful for the rustling. “Unless you’d prefer to be alone,” amended the same muffled voice. His eyebrows were drawn, a permanent frown surrounded was clouded by a puff of smoke.

I could see him more clearly, as he stepped into a warm glow. Smooth dark locks fell attractively over his head; cheekbones, and jaw were cut cleanly by shadows; a small button nose, that almost felt out of place, but somehow worked in his favour; lips perfectly shaped and plump. He was dressed in a tuxedo, complete with the bow tie and handkerchief. His ice-blue eyes shone like stars in the darkness. He was handsome. My goodness, was he handsome.

I’d been alone all night. Why did it have to end that way?

The man cocked an elegant brow.

“Uh,” I faltered, casting my gaze away. Not that it was of any use, he absolutely knew I was staring. “Yes— I mean no. You don’t have to go.”

His eyebrow merely quirked, but there was an atmosphere of mild amusement radiating off him. “Alright.”

A plume of smoke escaped his lips. The ice-blue eyes were fixed on me, like he was waiting for whatever trick I would do next. My feet shuffled, scuffing the ground just to make any noise possible. Not knowing what else to do, really, I sat on the bench, smoothing my dress down the back of my thighs. Still, he watched me. I smiled at him. He didn’t smile back. I regarded my shoes.

Now what? Oh, god, it was even more awkward. He must think me terribly rude, sitting without conversation, without anything to say. I should’ve taken my leave when I had the chance instead of making a right fool of myself.

Unnoticing (or unbothered) by my discomfort, he reclaimed his spot on the other end of the bench, resting his smoking arm on his knee and placing his whiskey glass between us.

We listened to the crickets gossip amongst themselves, masking the silence. The man reached into his internal breast pocket and pulled out a flask, topping up his glass. He extended the flask to me, but I waved it away.

“Headache?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No, I’m fine. It’s just...” I huffed a long sigh.

He nodded slowly. “Overwhelming?”

“Yes,” I breathed, shoulders dropping free from tension. “I just don’t think parties are for me. Let alone these,” I gestured in the general direction of the mansion, “kind of parties.”

“Why?” he said brashly— though I sensed no rudeness from his tone, only general inquisitiveness.

I shrugged. “My friend made me come. She insisted it would be the best night of our lives.” Chuckling, I added, “Though, I think it’s the best night of her life, seeing as she ran off with a very good-looking waiter.”

“Is that so?” The corner of his mouth jumped; almost a smirk, not really. “Lucky girl.”

“Quite.”

I kicked my legs from the bench with a childish leisure, my heels swinging by my toes, catching them before they slung across the clearing. The man gulped at his whiskey.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

His voice didn’t have much intonation, sounding perpetually exhausted with a hint of irritation. I decided not to take it personally, it didn’t seem directed at me specifically.

“Ella,” I replied, with a polite smile. “Yours?”

“Tommy.” Tommy stuck his hand out.

I took it. “Hello, Tommy.”

He bowed his head, what seems to be a ghost of an unfeeling smile pulling at his mouth— more of an involuntary twitch, really. Like it was a habit he was conscious to break. The light caught in his eyes. They glittered, stunning blue shinning a brilliant gold. I couldn’t take my eyes away, my grip going limp in his hand.

He let go. I let it drop.

Clearing my throat, I found myself at a loss of what to say. But if I left now, I’d be ridiculously rude. Clasping the hem of my dress awkwardly, I attempted, “So, are you enjoying the party?”

Tommy sucked on his cigarette. “Can’t say it’s my cup of tea.”

His shoulders were tense, eyes fixed in front of him with a misplaced determination. Tommy seemed like he was only looking at me when absolutely necessary, and I wasn’t sure how to take that.

“Ah.” I nodded understandingly. “I seemed to have found the other introvert.”

As if he were reading my mind, Tommy turned his head to look at me with his staple risen eyebrow, and the same, microscopic quirk in his lips returned. He didn’t say anything, waiting for me to continue.

“At a party,” I clarified, “there’s always at least two introverts. We rarely find each other, though.”

He exhaled a light laugh, and my ears perked with surprise. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Not sure. Maybe it’s nature. We always seem to find somewhere to hide, don’t we?” I shrugged, letting my fists relax.

He didn’t reply. I wondered if maybe I’d offended him. It would be just like me to be unable to keep my mouth shut. Tommy silently sipped at his drink. Oh, no, I must have offended him.

Sighing, annoyed at my own idiocy, I pushed myself to stand on my feet.

“I suppose you have a point. Not exactly makin’ friends in a clearin’ on me own.” He flicked a hand to nowhere in particular, indicating to nothing at all.

I relaxed in my seat. “Well, you must’ve done something to give me a reason to stay.” I flashed him a playful grin, hoping I’d lessen the moody gloom around the both of us.

He lolled his head lazily at me, staring at me with hooded eyes, eyes sparkling with a starry quality. I didn’t— couldn’t say anything else. He must’ve known something I didn’t. I met his gaze, until he looked back to his fixed spot in the distance. Embarrassment stirred in my gut; I pulled at my lip.

“Seems like us introverts had some good luck tonight.” He threw the butt of his cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his toe. “What are the chances that you wander into a maze and find me here, ay?”

I looked pointedly at the litter on the concrete. “I don’t suppose the owner of the estate would much like that.”

I frowned to myself. Fuck. I let my eyes flutter closed for a moment, suppressing the urge to groan.

However, to my surprise, he smiled. Not a twitch, but more like a genuine tight-lipped one. It suited him, strangely. Somehow, that made my chest swell. He didn’t seem like a man who gave out smiles for free.

Tommy turned his head, as if searching for Mr. Shelby in the bushes. “Oh, I promise you, he doesn’t mind what I do.”

“Sorry,” I said, meekly, already feeling my cheeks heat up. “Always been a goody-two-shoes. And they’re never fun, are they?” I laughed awkwardly.

“So, why did you come?” he asked, not unkindly. “If you don’t like it?”

I snorted. “I could ask you that very same question.”

He bit his cheek, but I could tell he was trying not to smile. Nodding, Tommy said, “Touché.”

Oh, this was better. This was a lot better. Finally, Tommy, this very handsome stranger, was meeting the articulate, coherent Ella that had some semblance of control over her tongue. I flashed him my teeth quickly with a shy smile. “Where are you from?”

“Birmingham.”

“Ah.” I nodded. “That would be the accent.”

“It would,” he agreed, nodding. “And you?”

“Oh, I’m not from here,” I said quickly.

Tommy smacked his lips, raising his eyes brows as a small smirk stretched his lips. He turned his head to look at me, and there was a mild humour in his eyes. The way he looked at me— it felt like a reward.

“I can hear as much, you certainly don’t sound like an American.” His gaze was piercing. “Still didn’t answer me question.”

“My speciality,” I teased.

Tommy’s eyes sparked with a light humour about them. He looked at me like he was challenging me, so I returned the favour and challenged him right back.

Shrugged haughtily, I sung, “You started it.”

Hiding his cheeky smile, Tommy reached into his jacket, fetching a silver cigarette case and lighter and fumbling around with them as he lit his cigarette. He offered me one, but I declined.

“I have an idea.” I perked up. “How about we each ask each other a question, and the other has to answer.”

At the sight of his slow, interested nod and impish raised brows, I showed him my palm.

“Within reason.”

“Alright.” Tommy nodded. “Sounds fair. Who begins?”

“I will.” I cleared my throat. “Hmm. Let me think… Did you like Birmingham?”

He snorted. “Boring question, try again.”

“Maybe boring, but I want to know.”

Tommy stared at me pointedly. Somehow, I got the feeling he was holding back how frightening he could really look, if he wanted to. That was a good thing, because I probably would turn right around.

“It’s my question!”

He sighed, reluctantly. “Birmingham is a shithole full of poor men desperate to make a living.”

“That’s not what I asked. Do you like it?”

He inhaled his cigarette. “It’s all I knew,” He blew the smoke from the corner of his mouth, away from me. “I suppose in the sense that it was a world I understood how to navigate: yes.” He looked at me for approval.

I nodded, satisfied. “Fair enough.”

“I believe it’s my turn.”

Motioning for him to continue, I leaned back on my arms. I didn’t believe he even cared about knowing anything about me, or even about playing the game. He probably only wanted to ask an equally personal question, to return the favour of me doing the same. To not be the only one who said something vulnerable. Regardless, I let him.

"What do you do?"

I sighed. It was his question, I guess. "I'm a secretary for Ashford and Sons." I shrugged, sorry I didn’t have something better to say. "Pays my rent. Do you have any siblings?”

“Yes,” he grumbled. “My older brother Arthur lives in England, in the countryside. My sister Ada and my youngest brother Finn live in Boston, and my younger brother John died.”

My back straightened, and my breath caught in my throat. Fuck. Fuck. “Oh. I’m… so sorry.”

He nods. “Yes, everybody is.”

“I— I shouldn’t have asked,” I said— just when Tommy said, “It was a long time ago. Don’t worry about it, love.”

I picked at my lips with nails. What do I do? I’ve made it awkward, just my luck. He tipped his head back, drinking the dregs of his glass and set it down between us with an audible clunk.

“What did you do in Birmingham?” I blurted. I didn’t know what else to do. I don’t even know if that was appropriate.

“I was a businessman,” Tommy drawled. “I owned Shelby Company Limited and I expanded here when I moved.”

“Shelby Company…” My mouth fell open. “Wait. Tommy as in...”

Tommy’s eyebrows jumped.

I gasped. “Thomas Shelby?”.

He spread his arms grandiosely, and almost welcomingly. “The very same.”

I scoffed, shocked. Through my fit of giggles, I forced, “My god— Sarah would lose her mind.”

“I would appreciate if you didn’t go announcing it. I don’t hide it, but I’m not interested in the press hounding me.”

“Of course,” I said, soberly. “Of course.” After a moment of silence, I pressed, “So. Are you really a spy?”

He grinned a beautiful, dimpled smile. I didn’t even realise he was capable of smiling like that. It suit him so well, made his eyes brighter. “Depends who you ask.”

I couldn’t help the breathy laugh that left me. “That was evasive.”

He smiled, wide and true. “My speciality.”

Several cigarette butts surrounded our feet. Speaking with Tommy was an experience in itself. At times, he was charming. With funny one liners, and cheeky smirks. Others he stared off into the distance, not answering for a few beats too long. If he wasn’t answering adequately, I would’ve thought he wasn’t listening to a single word I was saying. Some questions he answered short and quickly, with a somewhat rude tone; others he answered calmly, with thoughtful answers. I had no reason to believe he wasn’t telling the truth, which is why I found his occasional smarty behaviour forgivable. There were things he simply didn’t want to say, and I certainly wasn’t going to push him. I generally tried to avoid harmful topics like war (men nowadays can turn in a blink of an eye at simply the mention). However, there were some things I was too curious about.

“How come you throw these parties, anyway?” I asked, after a particularly successful flare of good humour.

Tommy cleared his throat. “Well,” he said. “Why does any man do anything of this degree?” He swept a lazy arm to indicate to his booming mansion. “A woman.”

My shoulders dropped slightly. I stubbed a cigarette I had finally accepted from him. “Oh. So you have a sweetheart?”

“I did. Once.” Tommy nodded. “A very long time ago.”

“What happened?” left my mouth before I had the chance to stop it. Immediately, I slapped a hand over my mouth. “I’m sorry, Mr. Shelby, you don’t have to answe—”

“It’s no trouble.” Once again, he looked at me without anger, which I think was almost the furthest he could reach to kindliness. It was obvious I pried too much, though. But Tommy didn’t seem upset. “She was rich. I was not. Simple as that.”

“Ah.” I nodded as if I understood even a semblance of wealth. “Well... you’re rich now?” I offered, unsure.

“Yes, I suppose I am,” he said matter-of-factly. “But I can’t find her, see. We were planning to run away. Her parents didn’t approve of her affair with the stable boy. A couple of days before we planned to escape, she called everything off. Said she couldn’t live without her comfort. All I know is that she married some banker and moved to Poughkeepsie.” He shook his head before placing his cigarette between his lips. “Not sure why I told you that.”

“Is that why you’re here?” I pressed again. “In Poughkeepsie?”

He blew a long sigh, running his tongue over his bottom lip. “Yes. I am. Came here three years ago.”

“From Birmingham?”

He nodded, nonchalantly.

My eyebrows jumped. “Wow. So soon.”

Tommy shrugged. “I don’t know if she’s even here anymore. I have these parties. Hoping she’ll come one night. She never does,” he clarified casually, “but there’s always… hope, I suppose.”

“Hope is a great trait to have,” I said gently. “After the war, I find no one seems to have any, anymore.”

I tested my luck. Carefully, I placed my hand directly on his. It felt a little awkward, but he didn’t move away from me, so I didn’t move either. Tommy didn't say anything for a while.

“How come you’re alone now?” He demanded, suddenly.

I blinked, startled. “I said earlier, my friend is very convincing—”

“That doesn’t answer my question. Your friend left you, yes, but that doesn’t mean you should be alone.”

Why was he so invested in why Sarah…

Oh.

“You mean…”

He rose an eyebrow.

“I see.” I pulled at my lip with fingers. “Well, I didn’t come with a fella. And I didn’t speak to anyone after Sarah left.”

“Hm. Unusual.”

Would it kill him to present any sort of feeling in his voice?

“Girls like you always have a chap on their arm.”

I huffed a laugh, eyebrows drawing together in confusion and amusement. “Girls like me? What’s that supposed to mean?” I was ready to be insulted. At least back-handedly.

Without an ounce of shame, he replied: “Pretty ones.” He gulped the rest of his whiskey.

I scoffed. “It’s a good thing you’re handsome, because that was a poor attempt at flirting.”

Tommy pulled his lips into a wide, closed smile. “We persevere.”

I snickered, crossing my ankles, leaning back to gaze at the sky, full of stars. The moon nowhere in sight.

“Do you have a man?” he asked abruptly.

“It’s not your turn,” I chastised, not bothering to hide my smirk.

He shrugged. “Answer it, anyway.”

I breathed a laugh. “No. I don’t have anyone, Mr. Shelby.”

“Good.”

I blinked. “How so?”

He didn’t reply. “Come, take a walk with me.”

“That doesn’t sound ominous,” I teased. “Where?”

“I want to show you something,” he said. “Something pretty.”

Tommy seemed to soften as we made our way through the grounds. He walked confidently, with his back straight and his chin up, observing the grounds like a general observing his troops. But there was also this sense of leisure: he had his arms behind his back, and he stepped lazily and slowly, as if making an effort to keep up with me rather than just letting me trail behind him.

We chatted, asking questions back and forth. He participated more voluntarily now, asking question he appeared to want answers to. Tommy had a permanent smirk now, too, which made me feel very proud of myself, if I do say so myself.

A boisterous laugh caught our attention. A very short man with a pretentious moustache stood amongst a group smoking Tommy’s cigars, drinking Tommy’s champagne, talking through their stuffed mouths full of Tommy’s hors d’oeuvres.

“What does Mr. Shelby do, anyway?”

Our eyebrows jump at the same time, we stopped near them, facing each other away from them to not seem like we’re eavesdropping. Tommy glanced at me with mischievous humour. His eyes seemed to say, watch this.

“I hear he’s the great, great nephew of the Kaiser,” added the woman next to the short man.

Tommy turns and leans in. With total severity, and a gossiping, whispering tone, he said: “I hear he murdered a man who threatened to reveal his relation.”

The short man visibly paled, gulping. Tommy leaned beck to me, bright eyes and pursed lips and if he was trying not to laugh. He placed his cigarette between his lips, smiling around it. I was gawking at him, mouth hanging open and wide-eyed— and he could tell, and he enjoyed it. The cheek of his smile was blinding.​​

I leaned in, almost pressing my lips to his ear — ignoring the feel of his breath on my neck — and demanded, “So, it’s you!”

He sipped his champagne.

“You make up all the rumours,” I insisted.

Tommy’s eyes glittered like before. “Possibly.”

“Oh my god.” I couldn’t help but cackle. Tommy snickered with visible surprise. “Sarah is missing out.”

“Marie told me he’s a Stanford graduate,” cut in the boisterous little man again.

Tommy’s eyebrows jumped, giving me boyish smirk only meant for me, like he was letting me in on the joke. I couldn’t help but release the grin I was trying to hide.

“Is that where he gets his wealth, then? A nice job for an IV League man.”

“Must be.”

“It can’t be, I heard from John that he’s a war hero.”

His smile fell. The playful air that hung in the atmosphere suddenly seemed suffocating. For the first time that night, this mischievous, charming man had turned to stone. My smile melted, too.

“Really? Although admirable, a war hero doesn’t necessarily mean he’s this well-off.”

“No, I didn’t think so either, but apparently he was so brave he received a nice sum from the King for gallantry!”

“Do they even give money prizes for gallantry?”

Before anyone could dispute, another man arrived, apologising for being late, insisting on the height of traffic. Nevertheless, the guests cheered, clapping the man on the back with cheery greetings— any matter of Tommy long forgotten.

Tommy’s expression was nothing less than furious. Not knowing what else to do, I slipped my hand into his palm. He startled, almost going to recoil, but changing his mind. I started tugging. I didn’t know where I was taking him— this is very much his home — but he just needed to be away from there. Before the rest of the life bled from him.

I had no idea why I wasn’t afraid. Maybe I should’ve been, but Tommy didn’t make alarm bells ring in my head, and my gut didn’t have a funny feeling. He had reasonably calm down, cracked a couple of jokes, even resorted to tugging my hand slightly when I went the wrong way. There might have been a ghost of a smile.

I hadn’t let go of Tommy’s hand since we left those people. He was in no rush to let mine go, either. His vice grip almost hurt, but he seemed like he needed it. A left turn through some cut of hedges led us to a brilliant, white gazebo, fairy lights wrapped around the banisters and poles.

“Oh, wow.”

Still grasping my hand, he helped me up the gazebo stairs. Inside was even better. The ceiling of the gazebo was painted a dark blue, almost as blue as the night sky, with little white dots glimmering from the darkness. In the very centre, a lamp shade shone. Printed on it, was a child like illustration of a moon, with a couple of stars to keep it company. Somehow, it all worked together.

I looked at him. “It looks like something out of a fairy tale,” I breathed.

He looked like he wanted to smirk, but he was stopping himself. Some lovers passed the gazebo and had a stroll on the moonlit pathway; escaped the fray to have a moment to themselves in the night— an innocent one, thank heavens. There were no blushing noises I could hear. I couldn’t bear to stand here, in front of Tommy— looking so handsome and boyish under the golden lights— and have to listen to a couple do what they should do in private, right in his manicured garden.

“I love it. It’s very romantic.”

Tommy didn’t say anything. Only looked at me, again, like he knew something.

I gave him my most brilliant grin. “Would you care to dance?”

He stared at me for a moment. “There’s no music.”

“Would dancing to the tune of silence be so wrong?”

I pulled him to me lightly. He cooperated, stepping toward me. I put my hand on his shoulder, and he put his on my waist. Our hands were still joined, though, and I know he noticed too.

At that moment, we were alone. It was just two strangers dancing. Dancing. Among the whisperings. And the Champagne. And the stars.

He gazed at me with the same hooded eyes, the same tight smile, the same starry quality.

“You know exactly what you’re doing when you look at me like that,” I breathed.

His smirk pulled wider and a deep chuckle rumped from his chest.

I caught a glimpse of his watch. “I think it’s time I leave. I’ve got work in the morning.”

He stopped swaying. "When do you get off work?"

My cheeks grew warm. "Are we still doing the questions?"

He smiled, but he said nothing, waiting expectantly.

I gave in. "At five."

“Do you like horses?” Tommy asked.

“Um. Yes?” My heart was racing.

“Would you like to go horse riding?"

I grinned.

[weyounbathwater]

What about snart?

SNART

Ok so his backstory is a little long so I'll put the lengthy version under a cut But long story short he's my ex-Borg Ferengi oc who works as an engineer/waiter at Quark's and I love him too much. Here's a drawing of him I'm working on too:

[Image: a digital drawing of Snart, a thin Ferengi man with a pointy face and two Borg implants above and below his left eye, plus two notches in his right ear. The drawing is dark blue lineart on a purple background]

Snart's backstory technically begins when he meets his first boyfriend (who I haven't actually named yet). This boyfriend is very rich and tells Snart that he can live with him - as long as Snart does the cleaning and chores and pretty much whatever he wants him to. Snart doesn't really have anywhere else to go and he's a romantic little man so he agrees, unfortunately trapping himself into the relationship.

Soon enough, this boyfriend starts picking at Snart's income, saying he's too poor and needs to get a job or run some kind of business to make more money, and that they can't get married or anything until Snart's income is roughly the same as his own. Because of this, Snart desperately flies from one job or deal to another just trying to find the money to make his boyfriend happy.

At one point during this is when Snart gets a job as a janitor in a robotics lab where he met and befriended (@edgebug 's) Prototype Mobile Platform 2.7.

Prototype Mobile Platform 2.7 was built from stolen blueprints of soong-type android models. The first real intelligent Ferengi android. He was supposed to be the first of a revolutionary new invention: A Ferengi engineered to carry over two tons without the need to eat or sleep, the ideal worker. Plus, they wouldn't have to be paid.

However, before the project got truly underway, the FCA got wind of it and contacted the heads of the project to tell them "uh if you flood our system with workers who don't get paid you're going to fucking destroy this economy." The project is scrapped and all mobile platforms are scheduled to be dismantled and their parts recycled.

Before that could happen to Mobile Platform 2.7, Snart helps him escape and frames it as a break-in, including feigning symptoms of stun gas poisoning for investigators.

(When the android is about to leave, he expresses concern that he doesn't have a name and that he can't apply for jobs as Mobile Platform 2.7. Snart deliberates before giving him a name: Bot)

Because he was unable to stop the "break-in" however, Snart is fired from his job, leading to another huge fight with his boyfriend about how they'll never get married at this rate and they might as well drop their plans because Snart can't hold a job, etc.

This encourages Snart to reach further in his efforts for money. He gets into black market trades, interstellar intelligence, anything he could get his hands on that would throw latinum his way. Eventually he is contacted by members of a Bajoran mafia group centered on Cardassia Prime. They want Snart to negotiate a treaty with a rival gang for property.

This negotiation turns lethal very quickly. The Bajorans who brought Snart along retreat to a shuttle and Snart is barely able to escape with them. The rival gang chases them from the planet, crippling the shuttle along the way. The shuttle is forced to land on an asteroid just outside of Cardassian space.

Horribly, this same asteroid holds the remains of several other crashed ships, which is being looted by a Borg retrieval squad. Snart, along with seven of the Bajorans, are assimilated.

Snart spends a year among the hive. According to Federation crew logs and unofficial records, he was a very powerful drone, both in charge of and the cause for the collective's newest division: trades and negotiations.

It will be members of the FCA who finally discover Snart's whereabouts. After investigating an exorbitant debt, his last known location is traced to the Borg, where the Federation is notified. Snart, along with a few other drones, is isolated from the hive and disconnected.

Snart is sent back to Ferenginar after his stay at the Federation hospital to find his boyfriend gone along with all of their assets. He had moved on, sold everything, and bought a new business with the money.

With nowhere else to go, Snart scrapes by with what he has until he can afford transport to a space station at Bajor, Deep Space Nine. He is hired at the station's bar, where he has worked since.

(Eventually, the bar gains another new worker, an unusually tall Ferengi who doesn't seem to eat or sleep. It turns out to be Bot. They end up dating each other)

This is already long but I can't find a different place in the story to fit this in and it's important, Snart actually has another boyfriend besides Bot.

Decades ago, before Snart's time, a Ferengi looter's ship came across a vessel, dead in space. The only thing that worked on this ship was the cooling system, which was meant to support a race of beings from an arctic climate. Ferengi - in my headcanons - go into a state of hibernation when they get too cold as a survival instinct. Like frogs in real life.

The looters, including Krem and his cousin, boarded the ship in case it still held anything of value. They wore protective suits to prevent accidentally going into torpor, but for some reason they began to malfunction. The crew were able to escape back to their own ship, except for Krem. Emergencies made it impossible to retrieve him, so he stayed there for many years.

When Krem finally does wake up, he finds himself in a hospital on a space station orbiting Bajor. Another team of looters had attempted to raid the same ship, but rushed to Deep Space Nine when they found Krem.

After quite a few days in the hospital, Krem is released with minimal instructions. With an outdated translator, no way of knowing where he is or how to contact his people, he wanders rather aimlessly in the habitat ring, until he's greeted by Snart.

Snart is able to piece together enough from Krem's vintage dialect to offer to fix his translator. The outdated technology only trips him up a little, experience with fixing Quark's holosuites had prepared him for nearly anything. After he's done, he offers Krem a place to stay in his quarters.

Snart and Krem end up dating. Bot joins them both later. We call them the Krembort polycule.

[mamawolfblood]

Yandere Abbacchio x reader x Giorno x Bruno x Oc prt 1

You don't remember how it happened. It was a normal day out with your friends. You were scamming turrets for money life wasn't easy. While taking a brake we stop at one of the pasta shops. The three of you giggle amongst yourselves sat at a table by five men not sure if on of them is a man though. While looking ove the menu the waiter comes over giving you a glass of wine. He said it was from the gentleman in black with purple hair. You turned around your black hair looked like it was in a ad for shampoo, wiped to the side as the light makes it appear as if glowing. You give a smile to the stunned man raising the glass. You turned back to the girls. "Why did you do that? That is an invitation Y/N." Iris said playing with her red hair. That was till a glass was placed infront of her. The waiter said it was from the man in white and jaw length black hair. She waisted no time doing the same as you. Bella her younger sister got a glass and the waiter said it was from the young man with blonde hair and purple suit. She like Iris and yourself raised her glass to him. The three men walked over and sat with you. Small talk getting to know each other. You come to know the man as Leone Abbacchio and something about him told you to run as far away as possible. The six of you head out for a day of fun and you couldn't turn down a man willing to shower you in affection. That feeling still nagged at you to run. Bella,Iris and yourself felt wussy and fall into the mens arms. The last thing you see is Abbacchio smirking at you.

"Non preoccuparti, tesoro, sei al sicuro ora. Finché non mi resisti, nessuno che ami si farà male. Sono tutto ciò di cui avrai bisogno della mia bellissima moglie." Was the last thing you heard followed by the three men chuckling.

You woke in a dark room chained to a bed your head pounding. You were jolted by the sound of your friends screaming begging for something to stop. No what the hell is going on? You thought before a door opened.

"Ciao bella, sarai difficile come i tuoi amici? Spero che ti comporti bene, non voglio farti del male." Abbacchio's voice came from the door way. He was shirtless evil in his eyes. You wished you never accepted the wine. Your friends would not be in this mess if you hadn't. Tears spill from your eyes as he stepped closer to you. She quiver with fear as his hands roam your body. "Good girl seems you know how to listen." He whisperes in your ear undoing the chains. "You continue to be a good girl and you will be rewarded. You disobey me however you will find yourself back here chained up till I see fit. Do you understand me Y/N?" You nod not wanting to anger him. You didn't know what he was capable of and you didn't want to find out. You allowed him you have you. This went on for what seemed like weeks. He and his friends let you and your friends out of confinement. This however was there mistake. You had a trick up your sleeve a stand. You play that they don't have one as well. They allowed you three to sit in an old Victorian living room. The one known as Giorno said that a stand is roaming the grounds. You curse under your breath knowing this was going to be difficult. You looked at the pitiful state of your friends and thought to hell with it. You stood up catching their attention. "Pufatter!" You scream and like that a humanoid snake appears beside you. "Abbacchio honey you and your friends go I will stay here and gaurd." Giorno looked at me suspiciously. "I will reward you for this when we take care of the threat darling. You wanted to puke walking up and kissing him for luck. The three men left chasing a phantom. You always knew the right words to say to make men turn to putty. You sent Pufatter to look around the grounds. It actually gets spotted by the three men but they go about their business. Pufatter returns to you ,this gave you the opportunity to make a ruckus. The living room was a reck making it appear a battle took place blood comming from you. The three come in to find you blocking the two girls. Abbacchio was at your side the girls said it was like a whirlwind and the next thing they knew you were hurt. The three men looked shocked but commended me for fighting. This was till...

[quentinbecks]

Kinktober Day 14: Public Sex

Title: Best Laid Plans

Pairing: Rafe Adler x OC (Charlie Berger)

Words: 4.2 k

Warnings: Absolutely pure smut, but mainly fingering, dirty talk, and sex in a storage room while a firefight is happening on the same property.

A/N: Charlie’s Uncharted AU is finally here! This was originally supposed to be a simple smutty prompt from @starsandskies kinktober list. But, knowing me, I had to make a whole, entire backstory for this. Thank you so much to @johnnycranes for enabling this ship and reading it for me when I was nervous about how my Rafe came out. You’re the best 💕

read on ao3

“Are you done pouting yet?”

Charlie is brought out of her reverie by Rafe absentmindedly placing kisses to her bare shoulder. Usually she enjoys the sorts of events they’re currently headed to; soirées full of stiff members of the upper echelon whose entire nights almost always seemed to be ruined by the couple’s mere presence. But tonight, all she can feel is worry coursing through her veins.

“No,” she whispers, tilting her head up as his lips travel up her throat. “You know how I feel about you constantly chasing that fucking treasure, Rafe.”

She feels a hot breath sighing against her neck before her partner’s head drops to her shoulder. “Honey, you know how important tonight is to me. You know how long I’ve waited to have the Saint Dismas cross in my hands.”

Charlie does know how important this is to him; how much he wants to earn something of his own rather than have it handed to him on a silver platter. But, sometimes she thinks he cares more about gold and treasure than he does her.

“Of course I do,” she says, watching as the limousine pulls up into the driveway of the Rossi Estate. Throngs of their fellow black market dealers and buyers sprawling out across the premises. “But you know how much I want to leave this life behind. I just want us to be normal. Boring, even. Why can’t we do that?”

“After I get Avery’s Treasure, I promise we will. Hey,” Rafe brings his fingers up to her chin, turning her face to look at him. “Soon we can be as boring as you want. We can even start a family,” he says, a small smile playing on his lips.

Charlie tries to smile in return, but his words just feel like another empty promise. “So you keep saying,” she says leaning in to place a peck to his lips.

Sighing deeply, Charlie steps out of the car, smoothing out the velvet of her emerald dress. Taking his arm, she allows Rafe to lead her through the doors and into the ballroom.

“I know you’re not in the mood for mingling with most of these people,” her partner whispers into her ear. “Once the auction is over and I have the cross, we can head straight out. Alright?” Green eyes flicker towards her looking for a response.

“In and out. Got it,” Charlie nods, grabbing some type of bruschetta off the platter of a passing waiter. “Grazie,” she says, sending a soft smile to the young man.

“Do you want to find our table while I try to track down Nadine?”

“Of course.” Olive eyes scan the crowd containing some of society's most elite, yet some of their worst as well. If you had told her as a little girl that these were the types she would commingle with as an adult she would have been horrified. “I think I see a few of my former -,” Charlie hums, trying to find the right word, “colleagues over there anyway.”

“You sure?,” Rafe asks her.

She simply nods in response, stepping forward to place a lingering kiss to his cheek. “Yes. Now go,” she says as she steps back. “But, please, be careful.”

“I always am, darling.” Rafe flashes her a smile, placing a kiss to her lips before heading off in search of his business partner.

Charlie turns her attention to a table towards the back of the ballroom. Seated amongst two beautiful women half his age is her former associate, Mauricio. But he’s not who her eyes are drawn to.

Her gaze lingers on the older, grey-haired gentleman readjusting his bow tie in the background.

Victor Sullivan.

Deciding to keep an eye on the man, she heads over to her friend and his companions. “Rico!,” Charlie calls out as she saunters over.

“Ms. Berger!,” the older man calls out as he stands. “How long has it been now? Three? Four years?”

“Two,” she corrects him. “I see some things never change, though,” Charlie nods towards the women perched watching them.

“You know beautiful women are drawn to me. Speaking of which, querida, you’re looking ravishing as ever.” Mauricio plants a kiss on her hand, causing her to roll her eyes.

“I’m afraid I’m taken, my dear. Though, I must say, I would prefer to be living the high life in Porto right about now.”

Charlie can’t help but have her attention drift over the man’s shoulder to Victor, noticing that Nadine has now joined him. Feeling uneasy, she begins to dig in her clutch for her phone, trying to pay attention to both Mauricio and the situation developing behind him.

Noticing her distracted state, her friend turns around to see what’s taken the focus off of himself and the tale he’s begun to tell. “Victor Sullivan is here? I thought that man retired.”

“So did I. Have you heard anything about what’s brought him out tonight? What have people been saying?”

Charlie’s voice sounds crazed and she knows she sounds way more frenzied than the situation calls for, but deep in her gut she knows Samuel Drake is involved in this somehow.

She’s never trusted the man, but Rafe has always assured her that he’s dependable and that with his knowledge of Avery and other pirates, he’s closer to finding the treasure than he ever was before. That somehow their time spent in a Panamanian jail together has bonded them.

Charlie knows that’s bullshit. There’s no honor amongst thieves and Rafe would be naive to believe otherwise.

“Isn’t that your partner, Charlene?”

She nods, allowing her green eyes to follow said partner’s every move. Rafe has joined the pair now and Charlie knows that this is headed nowhere good and fast. His demeanor appears to be jovial and confident, but Charlie understands Rafe well enough now to know that underneath it all he’s seething.

“What a trio.” Mauricio lets out a low whistle before turning his attention back to her. “How do you think the general public would feel if they knew the golden boy of the Adler empire was associated with thieves and black market dealers?”

“I think they would be pretty stupid to assume that a billionaire with actual morals exists,” she says with a shrug. “But, if they haven’t found out about my past yet, I doubt they’ll ever find out about his criminal inclinations.”

“They don’t -,” Mauricio goes to say but is interrupted by a voice announcing that soon bidding would begin for the crucifix from the Trott Estate. Charlie knows Rafe paid quite the pretty penny for the auctioneer to bring it out first.

“I should probably go grab Rafe,” Charlie nods at her partner who looks less than pleased now. “He’s been quite eager to get his hands on that cross for some time now.”

“Ah, I didn’t take him for a fan of religious imagery.”

“He’s full of surprises,” she says with a soft smile. “But, hey, maybe I can introduce you two before we leave?”

Mauricio’s hazel eyes glow warmly as he beams at her. “You know I can’t turn down an opportunity like that.”

“And I bet you thought I was just going to keep him all to myself,” Charlie jokes as she goes to plant a parting kiss on her friend’s cheek. “What kind of person would I -”

“Cut the bullshit, old man.”

Charlie immediately jumps at the sound of a glass crashing to the ballroom floor. Of course, during the brief moment she’s distracted Rafe decides to get into a very public spat with Victor.

“I should go,” she gives Mauricio a remorseful frown, “before he makes an even bigger scene.”

Hiking up her dress, Charlie shoves her way through the crowd until she finds Rafe. Straightening out his white suit jacket, he tries to recompose himself.

“What happened here?,” she whispers, fingers going to adjust his bow tie. Despite his outside appearance seeming cool, calm, and collected, Charlie can feel his heart thrumming in double time.

“Somethings not right.” Rafe shakes his head as he looks down at her, green eyes boring into her own. “Victor Sullivan is here somehow. I swear to God, Charlie if he tries to take-”

“He won’t,” she interrupts him. “Tonight is your night, baby. Don’t let him get to you.”

“It’s just,” he throws his head back with a sigh. “You don’t know what he and the Drake’s are capable of.”

“You’re right, I don’t.” Charlie puts her hands on his shoulders, standing up on her tip-toes. “But I know what you’re capable of,” she says, placing her lips to his for a soft kiss.

“Just think,” she says as she pulls away, “the crucifix will be yours in oh, I don’t know,” she hums, “twenty minutes?”

“I hope you’re right about that.”

Charlie beams at him. “I’m always right.”

She takes note of how the fluorescents hit her partner just right, making him look more handsome than usual tonight. “And maybe we can celebrate on the ride home?,” she asks, running her palm down his chest.

Rafe’s eyes darken as he leans down to whisper in her ear, nosing stray hair out of the way. “I think we can do more than just celebrate.”

Charlie lets out a low whine, having to bite her lip to stifle the sound. “Well, that’s what I’ll be thinking about while you’re winning us a six digit cross.” She pouts up at him. “Too bad you pushed the bidding to the beginning of the night.”

Emitting a low groan, he cups her face in her hand. “Like you said, this should only take twenty minutes or so. Do you think you can be a good girl for that long?”

Charlie knows she can’t, but she nods “yes” anyway.

“Bidding for a crucifix from the Trott Estate will begin in five minutes.”

The voice of the female announcer over the speaker interrupts the little moment they were having. “This is what you’ve been waiting all these years for,” Charlie says as she pulls away. “I’ll be waiting for you back at the table.”

“You sure you don’t want to come watch?”

“In these heels? No, thank you. Besides,” she shrugs, “I could go for a drink.”

“I’ll come find you afterwards, alright?”

Charlie agrees, letting Rafe place a quick peck to her cheek before making her way over to the bar. After pushing through throngs of designer-clad women and men, she finally makes it to her destination.

“Un bicchiere de vino bianco, per favore,” she says, taking a seat at the bar. She can hear the start of the auction echoing throughout the room and she hopes that this is the beginning of the end of her partner’s adventure hunting. But there’s a feeling inside of her; one that makes her blood run cold, that tells her it may never truly end.

“Bene! We have one hundred thousand euros in the room. Thank you. Do we have any other bids? We now have one hundred ten thousand euros in the room.”

Giving a quick thanks to the bartender as he hands her her glass, she turns to face the stage. Charlie can hear the back and forth of Rafe and Victor beginning to haggle over the St. Dismas cross.

Why the fuck is he getting involved? she thinks. Surely he can’t afford however high of a price Rafe will take this up to to ensure it’s his.

She watches anxiously as the older man keeps on bidding after bidding. No matter what price Rafe gives, Sullivan seems to want to take it one step further. It’s infuriating and she’s annoyed on her partner’s behalf. If there was any hope of them having a good time after they left the estate, all those dreams were just dashed.

“Five hundred thousand! Let’s get this show on the road here.” Rafe is clearly agitated and anxious and Charlie is sure it’s apparent to everyone else in the room.

“Oh… thank you. We have five hundred thousand euros in the room.”

“Had me worried there for a minute, Victor. Thought I might have to kill you!”

She cringes at the threat. Rafe and the others in the room may be chuckling along, but Charlie knows that that was no joke, he would kill anyone to acquire that cross.

Within seconds the lights in the room go off, sounds of screams and shouts reverberate throughout the ballroom. She hears Rafe yelling for security to stop someone, whom she assumes to be Sullivan, from leaving.

Swiveling around in her seat, she motions to the bartender for a second glass of wine; she’s going to need it if she wants to make it through the rest of the night with her sanity fully intact.

As Charlie searches through her clutch for spare euros, she hears the familiar footsteps of Rafe angrily approaching. “Where have you been?,” he hisses in her ear.

“Trying to give you some space to cool down,” she says as she turns around to face him, fresh drink in hand.

“I don’t think I’m going to be ‘cooling down’ anytime soon, honey.” Rafe runs a shaky hand through his hair; his jaw clenched. Charlie can tell how anxious he is right now and it breaks her heart. Despite wishing that he could focus on anything but the treasure, she knows how desperately he’s longed for this.

Taking a final sip of her drink, she places the half-full glass on the countertop before hopping off the stool. Noticing that the guards are trying to keep everyone in the main building while the estate is operating only on generators, a plan begins to formulate in her mind.

“Come with me.” Charlie grabs both of Rafe’s hands in hers as she begins to pull him towards an unguarded doorway. “I think I might know of a way to help you relax.”

“Charlie…”

“What?,” she asks, daring a glance back at him. His green eyes look back at her, giving her a hungry look. “You sure look like you want this.”

She stops at the door, pulling him into her as she leans against it. Taking a quick scan of the crowd, she can see that they’re too occupied with trying to make their way en masse to other parts of the property; pushing past the security guards trying to contain them. She can also hear gunfire in the background, assuring her that no one will catch them anytime soon.

Reaching behind her, Charlie grasps the cool brass of the doorknob, pushing the door open to slip the both of them inside. After doing a quick check of the room to make sure it’s secure, Rafe pushes her against a beam in the middle of the room.

“Looks like we have all the time in the world,” she whispers, watching as her partner’s slender fingers run up the length of her side.

Rafe begins to delicately bunch up the velvet material around her waist before making quick work of her panties. “Maybe by the time I’m done having my way with you,” he purrs in her ear, “the guards will have done their job and retrieved my crucifix.”

Charlie mewls as his thumb begins to stroke slow circles on her clit. Reaching up to grab onto the lapel of his white suit jacket, she pulls him down into a kiss. Rafe’s soft lips slide hungrily against hers; his tongue teasing its way past her lips.

Her hands trail up from his shoulders, gripping and pulling at strands of hair as his lips begin to leave bruising kisses down her jaw to her neck.

“Can we not talk about treasure or crosses right now?,” Charlie pants out. “Gold can’t fuck you and it certainly can’t love you.” She can’t help the bitter undertone to her voice. She’s trying to help him forget about his friend double crossing him, but the treasure always clouds his mind.

Rafe tsks. “Oh, my poor baby,” he says huskily, placing a nip to her pulse point. “Are you jealous?” His fingers slide from her clit to down between her thighs. “You know you’re my most prized treasure.”

Charlie cries out, bucking into his hand as two fingers are slowly inserted inside of her. “Always so wet for me.”

Her legs begin to shake as his fingers curl inside of her. Feeling as if she might lose her balance, she wraps her arms around the support beam behind her back.

Damn him, she thinks. Rafe always knows how to read her; knows what makes her tick and what makes her see red. But, Charlie can’t be mad, not when she can feel the heat begin to coil within her belly due to the steady pumping of his fingers.

“Please don’t stop,” she breathes. “I’m so close.”

Rafe presses himself against her thigh, fingers picking up speed. She can feel him hardening against her, that alone bringing her closer to the edge.

For a brief moment, Charlie forgets that there are others outside as her moans become louder and begin to echo throughout the room.

“Sssh.” Rafe nuzzles into her ear. “As sexy as you sound and,” he glances down at her chest, heaving and barely contained to her strapless dress, “as sexy as you look. We don’t need anyone else hearing you, now do we?”

She can barely respond except for shamelessly moaning even louder, her walls beginning to tighten around his fingers.

“Rafe…”

“Cum for me, sweetheart.”

Charlie rolls her head back onto the beam, nails digging into the wood. With a cry, Charlie comes; her body trembling.

Closing her eyes, she tries to catch her breath, but there’s barely a chance to as Rafe eagerly kisses her, his hands going to cup her breasts.

“God, look at you.” His voice is hoarse and husky, his green eyes blown. “So fucking perfect.” Pulling away he brings his fingers to his lips, wetting them with his tongue. “Always so sweet too.”

Charlie squeezes her thighs together, feeling herself getting turned on again from the sight. Reaching forward, she pulls Rafe back to her by his belt; fingers eagerly beginning to unbuckle it immediately.

“You have no idea how badly I want you inside of me right now,” she purrs as she brings her lips to his for a heated kiss.

Rafe groans against her lips as he brings his hands to the back of her dress, tugging on the zipper.

“Hey! Be careful with that,” she whines.

“It’s just a dress, darling. We can get you another one.” He carefully peels off the tape that had held her dress up, leaning down to take a newly freed nipple into his mouth.

“But I,” Charlie gasps as Rafe wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him, “liked that dress.”

He ignores her complaints, swirling his tongue around her pebbled nipple. Green eyes peer up at her as he gives a light bite.

“Please, Rafe. No more teasing.” Charlie knows she sounds whiny right now, but she’s aching to feel him and he knows it.

She can feel him smile against her chest before standing up fully. “Always with the neediness,” he teases, pulling her towards a crate in the back of the room. “Lucky for you, I love it.”

Charlie kicks her dress away before following after him. “Am I going to be the only one who’s naked here?,” she asks as he lifts her onto the wooden crate. Besides her heels, she’s completely naked, whereas Rafe has remained completely clothed.

He just shrugs at her. “Undress me then, sweetheart.”

Grabbing at his waistband, she begins to slowly undo his dress pants. Once she sees the bulge in his boxer briefs Charlie realizes just how impatient she truly is. As gorgeous as his body is, he looks just as good with clothes on and he looks even better when he’s pounding into her with them on.

“Oh, fuck it.” She slides her hand down the elastic, beginning to stroke him. Grinning at the hiss Rafe lets out at the sensation, Charlie leans up to hungrily kiss him, tongue and teeth clashing against each other.

“Just fuck me, Rafe. But I swear,” she whispers, “if one of those guards comes in here and finds me naked, I’ll be forced to kill them.”

“Don’t worry,” he says, freeing himself from his briefs and replacing her hand. “If anyone looks at you I’ll kill them myself.”

Charlie beams at him. If it was anyone else in her past she wouldn’t have been into that subtle possessiveness, but with Rafe it’s just another one of his traits that turns her on.

She bites her lip, watching as he begins to stroke himself before lining himself up at her entrance. Wrapping her leg around his waist, he slides himself inside, soft moans falling from both their lips.

Rafe starts slowly rocking himself into her, their foreheads pressed together. “You have to stay quiet this time, understood?”

“I can be a good girl for you, Rafe.”

“Oh, I know you can,” he pants out. “You’re my best girl.”

Charlie mewls at his words, laying herself back on the crate, the wood digging into her skin. She’s sure she’s getting splinters all over her back right now, but the pain is worth it for the look Rafe shoots her; like he wants to devour her.

Her hand slides in between them to rub her clit as he lifts her leg up over his shoulder. “I swear, Charlie,” he groans, his thrusts beginning to pick up a more brutal pace. “I’m going to destroy all of them for ruining this night.”

Charlie shudders, a second wave of pleasure beginning to build up. “Harder, baby,” she whines, trying to pull him in even closer.

“Harder, you say?” He begins to pound into her now, the crate creaking underneath her from the movement.

The combination of her own digits and Rafe’s movements brings her closer to the edge. She feels a hand trail down her body before cupping a breast, pinching a nipple between his fingers.

“My perfect girl.”

That’s all it takes for Charlie to cry out, her back arching off the crate. Rafe groans as she clenches around him; nails digging into her thighs. Leaning down, he kisses her through her come down.

“Fuck, that felt so good,” he purrs into her ear, placing a light nibble to the lobe before pulling them both up again.

Charlie snakes her arms around his shoulders as he begins to bounce her on his cock. “Now it’s your turn to cum for me, baby,” she says before beginning to suck and bite at his neck. She doesn’t care if all these stuffy assholes see him with a mark from her. If anything, it might make her feel proud.

“Charlie…,” he moans, his lip slightly curling. Rafe’s movements start to become erratic, so much so that Charlie has to reach a hand behind her to hold the crate still.

After a few more deep thrusts, his body stills. Cupping her cheeks, he forces her to look up at him. “I guess now is as good of a time as any to start a family.”

Charlie smiles weakly through her panting. “You sure about this?”

Rafe nods as he pulls out, looking for something to clean them up with. “You really think I’m just going to give up because Samuel managed to get one over on me?” He gives her a look before grabbing a waiter’s cloth and heading back to her.

“Not at all,” she says, watching as he cleans up his seed running down her thigh. “Just surprised you think this will be over soon.”

Charlie hops off the crate, heading towards her discarded dress lying crumpled at the bottom of the beam. Shaking it out, she steps into it, frowning as her breasts try to break free from her attempted confinement.

“Nadine and I have been searching tirelessly through the cathedral for a while now. Her shoreliners are getting close to finding what Avery hid there.” Rafe grabs a bottle of wine before making his way towards her. “Once we find that? We’ll be untouchable.”

Charlie’s hand rests on her belly. She doesn’t want to get her hopes up too soon about Rafe finally having a hold of the treasure he’s waited fifteen years for, but the thought of them finally being the “boring” couple, despite their pasts, that she’s wanted? It’s too good to be true.

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this,” she lets out a laugh, “but I’m excited to get back to Scotland so we can dig through some relics.”

“You wanna help me?” Rafe pulls her close to him, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Charlie hums. “Well, we’re a team too. It’s not just you and Nadine.”

Rafe chuckles. “You’re right, you’re right.” Casting his gaze downwards he notices the way her gown begins to slip down. Taking off his suit jacket he throws it over her shoulders, handing her the bottle to hide underneath it.

“I suppose I’ll have to get you a new one.”

“If we’re lucky, I won’t even be able to fit in one in a few months.”

Charlie stills. It’s absolutely quiet outside of the storage room except for some light chatter from who she presumes to be staff and security guards.

“We should probably get going,” she smiles impishly up at Rafe.

“After you, my dear.”