#bc technically there's two people i gotta ask because both were working on them

[cicadagaze]

this just in: i refuse to let my injured wrist stop me from doing shit so i'm making a white patch based on my pathetic beast of a cat

[karliahs]

Hi! I’ve been reading your works and have greatly enjoyed your recent take on Izuku and Aizawa’s relationship. I appreciate that you give us some really good content between them while also showing their character flaws (referring in part to ‘testing, testing’). And I’ve been loving ‘a soft place to land’! So thank you for writing all this!

And curious question! I know you wrote a bodyswap between Shinso and Izuku in ‘walk a mile’- I was wondering what your thoughts would be of a bodyswap between Aizawa and Izuku? Like how do you think it might go or some concepts that you think might be interesting to explore in that scenario? (This question is just for fun though no pressure!)

awww thank you anon! they are so very dear to me...and man it's always funny to me that before i posted 'testing, testing' i was like oh people maybe won't like this one bc it digs a little bit into flaws and misunderstandings, and then consistently when people bring it up to me they're like man what i loved about this were the flaws and misunderstandings

body swaps, hmmmm...my number 1 body swap thing is chronic pain reveal, which is fun with these two because i headcanon both of them as having chronic pain - izuku's is semi-canonical (the doctor after the training camp tells him to keep moving his arms "even if they hurt a lot" which is so :() and aizawa's just seems...probable, after those USJ injuries. that and nerve damage/loss of sensation

i also think it would be fun in a sad way if aizawa's vision is affected post-USJ as well as his quirk, and that being revealed in a body swap scenario...though that makes me think about mic and aizawa body swap more than anything. like the realisation that someone you thought you knew really well had this whole massive thing going on they never mentioned...

aizawa body swap would also be interesting for like revealing his experience of the world in terms of exhaustion/sleep issues. i think it's very fun that even though there are a lot of commonly-accepted headcanons for why aizawa is so goddamn tired seemingly all the time, none of them are technically confirmed? like i most commonly see it explained as because he's working a night shift doing patrols, but iirc that's never confirmed in canon?

and okay this is a tangent but theoretically all the UA teachers have to still be doing hero work at some point, right? like if they've been teachers for years and are still active/well-known heroes, they've gotta be patrolling some time. and while underground heroics is associated with working at night, it doesn't necessarily have to be - in vigilantes aizawa is defs operating as an underground hero during the day, though that may just be plot convenience. are the other teachers also pulling shifts after school? are sundays just a real bad day to be a villain, because all the UA teachers are desperately trying to fit in a patrol?

anyway. that's a common explanation for why aizawa is Like That, but there are lots of fun ones to dig into - chronic fatigue such that he actually does sleep a lot but it's not restful, his quirk causing exhaustion, depression & ptsd, and specifically i've come across it as a ptsd thing where people nap a lot to avoid the nightmares that come from deep sleep. i think body swaps are fun for someone trying to live in another person's body and being like hey what the fuck. this is impossibly difficult actually. probably because my body swap thoughts are so disability-flavoured always...

thank you for the ask, this was fun to think about!! sorry it was like 1/3 UA teacher logistics

[batarangsoundsdumb]

guess fucking what? my inbox is so fucking full right now i'm unloading all of this shit in one post.

For the 11th gotham memes: gothamites react to bruce being jacked in a tiktok he made with kids, like super yoked, ripped as hell

fucking hilarious thanks. i think i did it in one meme post, but i genuinely don't remember which one

i dunno which of the batfam would do this but one time i was sleeping over at a friends house and ended up on the floor bc the bed was so very small and i just stayed there because the rug was soft

that's a drunk jason move i don't know what to tell you

tim and jason are "i listen to pop punk" solidarity. whenever jason highjacks the batmobile theyll go on long ass car rides blaring mcr and paramore and then never talk about it again

as they should!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! tim: no jason it's my turn using the aux cord i gotta put on my jams jason: don't you dare put on weird shit tim: don't worry, you're gonna love this *plays fearless (taylor's version)

hear me out hear me out, red hood stans 🤝 nightwing stans t h i g h s

holy shit yes.

SNL au: Bruce breaks character when pretending to superman and says something like "I'm not superman! You've seen his gps!! It's from 2001!!!" @sabeanybabe

superman flies past the snl building the next day just to say 'actually it's from 2005, i'm not a heathen'

does your back hurt from carrying the batfam fandom

it hurts more from the exotic rock collection i keep in my backpack, but thanks for the concern.

I love your posts by why would you always leave the best parts in the tags?

as a treat for the people that check the tags ;) (and also because i'm committed to the short post aesthetic)

somehow your playlist was everything i never knew i needed. i mean it. this is my new favorite playlist.

and don't you dare get a new favourite playlist!

babe ur stoner tim playlist is exactly too perfect, earth is literally blessed by ur existence

babe thanks so much! i love my stoner tim playlist because it's just my usual playlist but people think it's an artistic choice that i put taylor swift and britney spears in there, when it's just what i unironically like listening to

JANDKSKDK BILLY RAY CYRUS ON THE STONER TIM PLAYLIST I LOVE IT IT

again it's not even an ironic choice, i know every single word and i genuinely like the song

The last chapter of Fundamentals of Casework has me crying at work. Thanks I love it @dudelookitsalesbian

oh babe, i'm sorry, but also, not sorry i love chapter 4 so much it's my lovechild with the 'mental illness' tag

soooo....stumbled on your tumblr by some stroke of fate??? read your DC fanfic first. which is PHENOMENAL btw. then found all the batmemes; the funniest thing EVER bc everyone forgets about regular old gothamites. kept scrolling and your blog pops up as recommended. clicked on the ao3 for shits and giggles and waddaya know?!?!? it's YOU!!! you're LEGEND!!!! ever seen that meme? it's a video of a cat that got into a baseball field and the two announcers get really invested in his escape attempt and start giving a play by play of the cat instead of the game. memeable moment: "GREAT stuff from the Cat!!!"

i seriously think about this ask every single day and it's so fucking funny to me that i've never seen the meme you're referencing, but i still find myself going 'GREAT stuff from the Cat!!!' whenever i see something funny. but wow i'm glad you liked this steaming pile of garbage

Fav dc character overall? And fav batfamily character?

don't ask me to pick between the loves of my life, but i can tell you i've cried about every single batfamily member and also wally west (my beloved)

What's your opinion on fans having a problem with batfam being "too big"? And some even claim that batfam is just "Bruce Alfred Dick Damian" and the rest of them are just "friends and allies" (source: reddit) Personally, I like batfam because of this reason but idk

stupid. a family can never be too big. i'm not that big a fan of like huge batfam stuff with everybody from every single universe, because as much as it's funny for bruce to have like 30 kids, it just feels a little too OOC for me.

This is the best tag I've seen involving the batfam, thanks for thinking of it

This is canon now @nctxrejects

lmao yeah i think at that point alfred has had to sit through like at least a dozen coming out talks and just has a pride flag collection in the attic that he pulls out whenever a kid comes out

idk why batfam hits different as compared to any other superhero family

bc it's found family and usually the other superhero families are almost all genetically related in one way or another

I don't know if you watch the umbrella academy but I saw your last post about batcest and saw the similarities. But the thing is (although I think it's weird) in TUA, they addressed it by saying "they were raised as weapons, not siblings" or something along those lines, which is simply not the case with batfam.

yeah i watched tua but i also thought it was ridiculous and they still treated each other as siblings so i didn't like the luthor/allison thing, and am glad they stopped doing that shit bc it fucking sucked.

Hot take: Batcest shippers are the same people who believe adopted siblings are not actual siblings

smoking hot take: batcest shippers are the people who watch 'my sister got stuck in the washing machine' porn

Duke was adopted by Bruce?

not technically no, but do i, tumblr user batarangsoundsdumb, look like i care?

True story but I had to change my freaking name because it used to be "Damien" and most people would go "OH LIKE DAMIAN WAYNE" like please I'm just tryna live

true story, but i don't actually think of damian when i hear the name damian, literally the first thing that pops up is damian darkh like bruh what?

apparently dc comics company supported comic stores by giving out new titles and stuff during the beginning of the pandemic to help them run and I just think that's wholesome

ah yeah that's so fucking cool, still don't like dc, the company, because this world is a capitalist hellhole and we're all owned by warner brothers or disney with no in between.

ayo looking at tumblr head canons and finding out bruce is actually a terrible father is a punch in the gut

lmao yes, in like 50% of comics bruce is a terrible father and it gives me whiplash

oooh I just saw the jason todd vs winter soldier post and the real question is: batman vs iron man

while iron man has like hundreds of cases of armor, batman could throw out an emp and have the guy dropping out of the sky in 2 seconds.

dickfast = fastdick = quickdick = quickie

magnum hot take

hey bata(?) just thought I'd let you know I have copied the obnoxious emoji and Billy Ray post for use on simping men going forth

thank you 😘🌷 (@spacebarsidecar)

why would you do that to your followers???? i get why i did it, but why would you???

what is scarecrow made the nightwing funko pop himself, like those diy-ers that paint over other ones

oh god no, horrible take, horrible take, that's a disgusting thought oh no

I see your HC that Bruce and Oliver fucked and raise you this: Dick and Roy ALSO fucked

yes they did and it was a horrible moment for jason to find out dick has fucked both of his best friends

"at this rate bruce adds like 1 child to his family every decade or so" Duke is introduced in 2013, Damian as Damian, not as an unnamed child, in 2006. And he is already 14 years old, Robins rarely remain Robins after 16 😬 It looks like a new Robin and Batkid will appear in a couple of years

i mean i can't wait? but somebody will probably die first tho, we're due for another major character death. my money's on either cass or duke this time.

BRO you're so right all of your Bruce's ex headcanons are amazing but they aren't ships, that's kinda wild. Like I don't want any peeks into how their relationship was I just want to see everyone make fun of them

lmao YES it's just i love bruce being a slut, like good for him.

I am in love with your posts your honour thank you

omg thanks are we like,, gonna kiss now?

The justice league needs to have a meeting to discuss how many of their members/partners have slept with bruce. Because through a combination of cannon & fannon (if DC wasn’t homophobic) we have AT LEAST: 1) clark 2) lois 3) oliver 4) dinah 5) john

Thats not counting villains or random civilians @dudelookitsalesbian

yes yes yes, they'll have a yearly meeting about how many of their collective exes could be out for revenge and batman's list just keeps getting longer.

tim was like "i'm drake now" and everyone was like ahh so your fursona is a dragon and tim was like pffffft no. ducks.

and what about it?

when steph's fighting livewire and she zaps her with lighting and nothing happens and then they both just. stand there awkwardly for a second and talk. yeah i couldn't stop laughing at that batgirl steph is the BEST

oh yeah that was fucking hilarious and i think it would be so cool and sexy of dc to give steph a little comic series,,, as a treat

Hi I absolutely adore all of yours "Bruce and Oliver very badly pretending they didn't fuck each other" memes

lmao i do too

I need you to know that “Bruce Wayne had frosted tips” is one of my favorite Bruce takes of all time it’s so galaxy brained. you’re right and you should say it

he also painted his hair blonde once when he was travelling and in conclusion, this is why he's being blackmailed by the gotham gazette.

you know my thing about gordon being branded as the only good cop in gotham is its a load of shit like arguably he's a good person and not working to screw people over or anything but the fact that he also works w. batman makes him a shit cop. like yea batman is better than the mob but its still illegal its still an abuse of power he just not making bank

babe, all cops are bad cops. (but yeah youre absolutely right, working with vigilantes makes you a shit cop, but also working against vigilantes just makes you an asshole cop yanno?)

ruh roh i think i’m about to add “so not yeehaw” every time i don’t like something

that's a very good vocabulary upgrade

somehow i feel like steph already knew. like babs obviously knew but i feel like bruce got high/drunk in front of steph and started telling his boarding school stories and steph was just like “oh you fucked up i’m never gonna forget this”

steph and bruce have weird uncle/rebellious niece dynamic and they just hang out sometimes and bruce will be like 'i once broke my arm when i tripped over a hedge when i was drunk so oliver drove me to the hospital on an electric scooter' and steph will just have to sit there with that knowledge in her head.

Hello I just wanted to tell you you are So right in all your steph opinions bc she is, in fact amazing and I think that's very sexy of you. Ps. Your Bruce/Oliver fic is hilarious

babe, thank you so much and yes steph is amazing and i love her and she deserves the world and she's the best member of the batfam hands down. also thanks

In Supersons we see a couple of kids that are implied to be Damian and Jon's children and the boy has laser eyes and can fly, so I asume he's not adopted. The girl, who calls Bruce grandpa, can also fly, btw. So it's canon (probably by accident) that Jon can have kids and he must have married one of Bruce's kids. (I'm hoping for Damian, mostly because any other of his children would be waaaaaaaaaaaaay too old.) @artemisa97

lmao that was probably an accident seeing as jon is a 17 year old superhero in the year 3000 (by the jonas brothers)

You know, I'm a die hard fan of your memes, but I gotta say one thing: if Gothamites actually took gas mask everywhere with them, then the Scarecrow would just be a weird dude in a weird costume, and not a villain oh so scary. DC really should just takes notes from you.

bold of you to assume there's no gothamite anti-maskers

How does it feel being the funniest person on this app?

horrible, next question.

I can't listen to Green Day or Billy Joel without thinking of your post about how Bruce got arrested at a Billy Joel concert @nightwings-kid

yeah that's your mistake, i on the other hand can't enjoy billy joel without thinking about the glee rendition of 'uptown girl'

I've FINALLY been watching the Batman animated series and I gotta say, after watching "the gray ghost" I am CONVINCED that Batman is a closeted super hero geek who was 100% freaking out the first time he met Superman and is just REALLY good at hiding it.

superman: so what do you do in your free time? batman, thinking about the superman fanfiction he's writing on the batcomputer: i have no free time

bruce and oliver be like boyfriends to co-workers 401k (do the justice leagues get 401ks??? not that bruce and ollie would need them, but-)

lmao yes just 400 thousand words of bruce realising 'oh dip oliver is such a fucking dumbass' (also i don't know what a 401 k is but i assume they don't?)

Gothamites would totally boo superman as he saves Gotham while batman is out. @meenje

he's like 'okay think about that next time you want to be saved from an alien octopus'

I just took long break from dc comics and I come back to see ric grayson ??

i think it's very cool and sexy of dc to see dick and just think 'you know what? let's just give him a traumatic brain injury' and then didn't develop his character in any real way

SPEAKING OF RIC GRAYSON, gothamites making confused memes out of ric grayson is much needed

'dick grayson is my taxi driver? can anyone explain what the fuck happened he looks like an italian plumber?'

i hate to say it but batfam are def "marvel characters" in that sense they are characters who are human but become superheroes unlike most dc characters who are gods trying to be human maybe this is why I like batfam

fair enough

[square-blunt]

I love my friends, they make me feel alive again, or at least they remind me that I'm not even dead

I am kicking and screaming i must put this one and another Esmp fic out before tomorrow and I am very Nyoom rn so I'm sorry if this one isn't as good, I really liked the way it turned out so here have some clingyduo fluff bc yeah I can writing things that aren't angst?? What? no one dies and their best friend holds them in their arms this time?? fuckin crazy. /lh

TW- Abandonment anxiety, ptsd WC: 2530 words Ao3: :3

It was Tubbo's birthday today. Tommy had been planning something for weeks- grinding, mining, stealing, going through ax after ax getting wood. He even asked Foolish for some help, and after those weeks, he had finally built a perfect replica of the L'manberg bee house. It wasn't in L'manberg, of course, but Tommy was sure Tubbo wouldn't care.

He didn't fill the basement with wolves, but he did get two or three bees in there- he named them. Beeinnit, Ranbee, and Tubbee. Tubbo and his two best friends, but bee form. Tommy was still Tubbo's best friend, right? He knew that Ranboo was more than a friend to Tubbo, the two were married, Ranboo couldn't technically hold both titles, and Ranboo was too dumb- he needs to stop blaming Ranboo. Sitting in the bee dome, planting a few last flowers- cornflowers, poppies, sunflowers, and white tulips, Tommy realizes that he needs to stop blaming Ranboo. He needs to. Because Ranboo was a good… enderguy. And he was good for Tubbo. He had asked Tubbo if Ranboo made him happy- Tubbo nodded, and that was good enough for him. He needs to stop blaming Ranboo, and start looking at himself. Because if he and Tubbo aren't talking as much, of course, he's gonna find someone else to talk to. And he's learning to not blame himself for everything, he does blame Dream for that, but this isn't Ranboo's fault and it isn't Tubbo's. And Tommy knows that he and Tubbo are still gonna be friends. It's been him and Tubbo since the beginning, that's what he said before fighting Dream. And Tommy knows that he and Tubbo will have each other's back. He's just overthinking this, but he is still gonna try and give Tubbo everything he wants or needs. And try to give him the world that he deserves. He's gonna try and make the world a better place for him. And a bee dome is a nice, easy start. It was more tedious than anything- thank prime for Eret stealing the blueprints before Doomsday. They had the plans for every building ever created- they let Tommy have the one for the bee dome. They even brought over the bee that would become Tubbee. Tommy… wanted to forgive Eret. And he would. Eventually. Tommy kind of did that before going off to fight Dream- Eret was the last person he talked to. And Eret looked so relieved when Tommy said that he thought they were the true king. They had been there for him and Tubbo. That was good enough for him. He did think that Tubbo, Ranboo, and Eret, even, were his best friends. He knew that Puffy was his friend, and her griefing his house was just some friendly pranks, and he enjoyed having something to do. Shit was getting too buddy-buddy around here. Wilbur… he wanted to be Wilbur's friend- brother. He wanted the Wilbur who started L'manberg, he wanted the Wilbur who would sit down and play a song. He knew that Wilbur was still there. Somewhere. He stops to touch the petal of a cornflower next to him. Blue and yellow are on opposite ends of the color wheel, but they mean the same thing to Tommy. He loves, and misses, his best friends. They make him a better person. He doesn't have to be the bad guy.

Tommy shields his face, the sun setting and glaring into his eyes through a window. It's almost night, shit. He had put enough lanterns and shroomlights in the dome that mobs wouldn't spawn, but he wasn't so sure about outside. There was some pathing, courtesy of Foolish, and there was some light around, but he wasn't sure. Because mobs weren't the only thing that darkness hid.

Tubbo whispers to you: I'm here boss man

Tommy smiles. He had asked Tubbo to meet him at the community house, after his birthday party in the mansion- Tommy had left early to put the flowers in and told tubbo to meet him there whenever he was ready.

/msg Tubbo: k I gotta do one last thing

/msg Tubbo: be there in a sec

He's almost happier it's night, it'll look a lot cooler from a distance. He plants one more cornflower next to a hive. He brushes his hands off on his pants, and then brushes his pants off, and checks his reflection in the window. It wasn't too far of a run back to the community house, the dome was just to the side of Eret's castle.

"Tubbzo!" Tommy runs up behind his friend, who, unfortunately, had his back turned.

"Tommy!! You scared the shit out of me, fuck you-" Tubbo said, Tommy laughing.

"You fucking jumped, like, 30 feet in the air," Tommy says, a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Fuck you," Tubbo repeats, lightly hitting Tommy in the arm, beginning to giggle as well.

"Come on, I spent so fucking long on this so you'd better like it," Tommy says, beginning to drag Tubbo out by his forearm.

"Yeah, is Ranboo already there?" Tubbo says, walking at pace with the other.

"What? I haven't seen Ranboo since the party." Tommy says, a pit in his stomach opening up.

"Huh, he said he was going to go help you with my birthday gift. You never saw him at all?" Tubbo says, voice laced with worry.

"No, was he going anywhere before coming to me? And- and I never told him where this was- only Foolish knew. So I don't even know how he'd find me." Tommy says, his grip loosening on Tubbo's forearm so he could pull away if he wanted. Tubbo didn't.

"No, he did that weird thing though, he calls me Tubbo and talks to me like you or Foolish would." Tubbo walks a little closer to Tommy.

"What's off about that?"

"Ranboo usually calls me beloved or snow angel, and he'd talk to me like a husband would, yknow?"

"He calls you 'snow angel?'" Tommy screws up his nose.

"Oh, piss off," Tubbo smiles a little.

"But still, we can look for him on our way? Unless you wanna look for him now, the be-irthday gift can wait."

"A beirthday gift, you say?" Tubbo says, smiling.

"Oh, piss off," Tommy mimics Tubbo, "but seriously, if you wanna look for him we can." Tommy stops and turns to face Tubbo, giving a reassuring squeeze.

"No, no, it's- you made it, whatever it is, I'm sure he's fine, and I'm sure he'd want me to go ahead," Tubbo says, looking up and smiling slightly.

"If you're sure. Because fucking Prime, this shit took so fucking long and I had to practically beg Foolish to help…" Tommy continues to talk to Tubbo, trying to distract him from his currently missing husband. Eventually, the moon high in the clouds, they get to the start of the path.

"There's no way you did this." Tubbo laughs.

"I didn't- Foolish did the path but I built the actual thing," Tommy says, letting go of Tubbo's arm, "I'll race you!" and off he sprints.

"NO FAIR YOU KNOW WHERE IT IS!" Tubbo laughs from behind him.

"BYE-BYE BEE- boy-" Tommy skids to a stop, not long after rounding a corner of trees. He can see flames, high over the tree line, the light eating away and the surrounding stars, in the back of his mind he hears explosions- there aren't any explosions, Tommy, it's just a forest fire, there isn't any TNT, there isn't any TNT-

"Oh, is that… supposed to be on fire-" Tubbo stops next to him, Tubbo's hand on Tommy's forearm this time.

"No- no it-" Tommy straightens up, and he catches a glimpse of someone running away- a figure behind the trees, he blinks, and it's gone-

"Tommy?" Tubbo turns to look where Tommy was looking- where the figure was just moments before.

"N- nothing- Tubbo get- get behind me-" Tubbo's grip tightens on Tommy's arm as he pulls Drista's dagger out of his inventory, holding it in his other hand. Together, they creep up the path, until what's left of the bee house comes into view. It’s engulfed in flames, and all of Tommy’s hard work is being eaten away before his eyes. Tommy curses, puts the dagger away, and pulls out his water bucket.

"You've got-" Tommy motions at the bucket

"Yeah- and c'mere," Tubbo says, pulling on Tommy’s arm, throwing a fire res pot up. Tubbo lets go of Tommy’s arm as the shield washes over them, Tommy's skin feeling tingly. Together, they manage to put out the fire and put out a few trees that had caught before it spread anywhere else. They end in the dome, the roof all but gone, one of five beehives on the top floor remain.

"Oh, Tommy-" Tubbo begins to say, sadness heavy in his voice.

"Yeah, yeah, I spent fucking ages on it. Can't have shit- the gods must hate-" Tommy begins bitterly, collecting the last of the water, and putting it back in his hot bar. At least before his knees buckle under an unanticipated pile of weight. He hears Tubbo laughing from right behind him- he jumped on Tommy’s back, “Fuckin- Get off of me-” Tommy laughs, too. He doesn't mean anything by it, there's no malicious tone to anything he says to Tubbo- and Tubbo's one of the few people who actually understand that.

"I know exactly what this is-" Tubbo says, standing straight, a hand on his hip.

"What it was supposed to be." Tommy, out of habit, mirrors Tubbo. "See, why can't we have nice things? Fuckin, everyone else gets cool buildings and kingdoms and shit why the fuck can't we have a bee dome in the middle of the woods- what, why are you laughing" Tommy gestures vaguely at the rubble before raising a quizzical eyebrow at Tubbo's silent giggles.

"What it was supposed to bee," Tubbo says, cackling, and Tommy groans.

"Augh Tubbo, now is not the time-" Tommy rolls his eyes

"It was never meant to bee-" Tubbo laughs harder, clutching his stomach, leaning on Tommy for support. Tommy finds himself laughing a little bit,

"Ok, yeah, that was a good one- you wanna bee a hero, Tommy?" Tommy mimics Techno in a high-pitched voice- sending Tubbo into hysterics.

"We- We-hehehe- We would rather die than give into you and joi- join your SMBee-" Tubbo says between fits of laughter, making Tommy bark out a wheeze, "That was- was beeasier than I thought-"

"My unfinished symphobee-"

"TOMMY-"

"You can't control who lives who dies who-"

"-tells your storbee?"

"Yeah-hahaha! F- for Tommy to bee exiled-"

"That was so fucking stupid why'd I do that-" Tubbo shakes his head, his laughter subsiding.

"Because that's what you thought was best, you had no way of knowing what he was gonna- what he was gonna do to me-" Tommy says, the tone becoming solemnly serious.

"-If I had known I never would have done it, I would have told Dream to shove it up his ass, you know that right?" Tubbo says, reaching for Tommy's hand.

"Of course. We're best friends, I know you'd never do that to me." Tommy squeezes his hand. Tubbo lets out a breath, and he looks like a massive weight has been lifted off his shoulders. As much as he feels guilty admitting it, Tommy's glad Tubbo's been worrying about that. It means that he cares.

"Should he go in there and see what we can rebuild?" Tubbo says, rocking back and forth on his feet.

"If any, but- the bees!" Tommy breaks into a sprint, tugging Tubbo along with him with a yelp.

"Bees?" Tubbo easily gets his footing as they fly down the stairs, and all of Tommy's breath leaves in a sigh of relief. He can see three balls of yellow and black in a patch of flowers.

"Oh, thank prime," Tommy says.

"Oh, the flowers are L'manburg colors!" Tubbo reaches down to pick a poppy.

"Yeah… I tried to think of as many things as possible because I know how much L'manberg meant to you-" Tommy flails his arms out- Tubbo launching himself at Tommy- into a familiar hug, their laughter bouncing off the walls.

"It's fine, Tommy," Tubbo says, his voice bright- and Tommy becomes coldly aware of a memory- the last time Tubbo had roughly tangled him into a hug.

What am I without you?

Yourself?

"Tommy?" Tubbo's pulled back, a- at this point- very familiar concern on his face.

"I'm alright- just, bad memories. I'll be alright-" Tommy shakes his head, pulling Tubbo back into the hug.

"Are you sure? We can stop for a second- sit and talk?" Tubbo says softly from Tommy's shoulder.

"No- not on your birthday, I promise- I promise I'll be alright, this is nothing I haven't done- we haven't done before," Tommy says back, tucking his head into Tubbo's shoulder, trying to chase the pit in his stomach away.

"You sure?" Tommy can feel Tubbo's hand smooth down his hair. Tommy just hmms in response. "Do you think they- the bee's are asleep?"

"What do you mean?" Tommy looks up, he can't see the bees, but he doesn't want to leave the hug.

"The smoke, you think it put them to sleep?" Tubbo muses.

"Maybe," Tommy mutters. "Fuckin- I spent days on this." it was more of an inconvenience than anything at this point. "Do you wanna rebuild it?"

"Not right now, I'm tired, boss man." Tubbo sighs. Tommy realizes how tired he is, too, the familiar ache in his bones.

"Me too, Tubbzo, me too. Let's go home?" He says, making no move to back out of the hug. Tubbo just hums. And so they stand there, until they figure out they can shuffle together- at least to the stairs. Tommy laughs at the image this must make. Two boys, one half-cow, one half-dead, who would rather tear up the ground and trample flowers than break their hug. By the time they do eventually get to the stairs, they both are laughing. Tommy notices that he laughs a lot more whenever he's with Tubbo. He also notices he gets tired a lot quicker. Puffy would say something about Tommy feeling safe around Tubbo, enough so that he shows emotion and lets his guard down, but Tommy knows that. He yawns, he is actually really tired. Tubbo yawns too, and they help each other up the stairs and out of what's left of glass and wood. About halfway down the path, Tommy stops and looks over his shoulder, at the space between trees, where he saw-

"Whacha lookin at, big man?" Tubbo asks from beside him.

"Nothing- I thought I saw someone running away from the fire when we first got here- I think maybe they were the one that did it, but I didn't catch their face." Tommy says, half lying. It was true, he didn't catch their face, but he'd know those two glowing eyes anywhere. He knew who it was. No way he was gonna tell Tubbo about it.

Because he was almost sure it was Ranboo.

[breitzbachbea]

📓?? 👀

Okay, okay, okay, so -

Put “📓” or some other version of a book emoji into my inbox and I’ll explain the plot of a fanfiction that I haven’t written but daydream about.

The Ancient Olympics AU (which I talked about with @crispyliza )

This AU came into being after I relistened to the "The Ancient Olympics" episode of the history/comedy podcast "You're Dead To Me". It had the interesting information that a lot of Olympic winners actually came from Sicily & South Italy! So naturally I began to wonder what might have happened if my Sicilians ended up in Olympia ...

Dramatis Personae:

- Michele Vento (APH Sicily, my OC) as Trainer of the Bontade Twins - Marco & Lorenzo Bontade (Human OCs of mine) as Athletes from Syracuse - Herakles Karpuzi (APH Greece) as Athlete from Athens - Timothea Simonides (Human OC) as Herakles' Trainer - Omar Simonides (Human OC) as ... Good question? Co-Trainer to Thea ig

The Happenings™:

- Lorenzo and Marco want to compete in the upcoming Olympics as runners. Michele,probably a distant relative to them who lives close, becomes their trainer.

- The Sicilians roll up to Olympia, most likely a few days early because travelling is an adventure in these days and it doesn't hurt to have a few extra days to get accustomed to the terrain.

- Michele also definitely loses the Bontade twins 10 minutes after arriving at the sanctuary bc he wasn't looking for 0.5 seconds. So now he lost his boys at a place that currently contains approximately half of Magna Graecia.

- The reason he wasn't paying attention? Some athletes were preparing themselves nearby, bucknaked of course. Amongst them Herakles. Michele has always been a sucker for strong arms and legs, so that plus Herakles' beautiful face has him swooning from the get go.

- After he recollects his twins, they spend the next few days training, as do the other athletes, which is when Herakles notices Michele's looks.

- Christina (crispyliza) had the galaxy brain idea that Herakles intentionally flirts with Michele to sabotage the Bontades success at the games. It's an idea that he comes up with together with the Simonides - to be completely fair, it was probably Timothea's. Omar: "My, looks like you've got a fanboy." Herakles: "And what a pretty one at that." Timothea: "He seems to be a bit shy about it, though. Or maybe he's actually after those twin brothers?" (They figure out he's the Bontades trainer) Timothea: "Oh, he's a trainer! Pretty sucky at his job though if he's oogling the competition so much." Omar: "All the better for us, though." Timothea: -oil lamp ignites over her head bc light bulbs aren't invented yet-

- While we're at the Simonides: This was before it was mandatory for everyone to be naked, so Timothea managed to sneak into the games by posing as a man. Omar helps her with it, since he's trans and thusly got experience. Christina also had the hilarious idea of them having fake beards, which is just, YES. Timothea definitely cut her hair and they made whatever beard is in fashion in Athens at the time out of them. Their mother Natasa used to be a famed winner of the Heraea, the woman's games also held in Olympia.

- So let the games GreSic flirting begin

- The Problem: Michele doesn't want his boys to think he's betraying them for a rival athlete. He also really wants Herakles to rail him. The Solution: Find ways to be sneaky and secretive about it so the twins don't have to find out. Here is one of the possible scenarios I had for this: "When I first thought about this, I also had this scene in my head. Idk how accurate it works, bc it involves a tent and in the ydtm episode they didn't mention how people were housed during the games. (Like, I am sure there were guest houses, the temples probably offered some places to sleep, both of that but in upscale fancy for all the rich and important people attending yadda yadda.) Do you know that trope(?) when someone has sex but is trying to hide it? That. Just Michele sticking his head out of the tent, clutching at the fabric to keep everything else closed. Tells his twins, who looked for him, he is kind of busy rn. Tries is best to hide the fact of what is actually happening and to make them leave. It works. Kind of. Because as soon as they are gone, Michele sighs with a :| look and tells Hera to stop. "But why?" "Because you would have to nail every corner of this tent down and then they'd still find a way to spy!" Which is exactly what the twins ARE doing. They are trying their best to get an unnoticed peak from one place of the tent. But because it has to be subtle, all they get to see is feet and they either don't hear them or don't recognize Herakles' voice. I don't think he is the person to go out of his way to pick on people or pick fights in general, so they probably haven't had much interaction. So Michele smoothes out his chiton annoyed and leaves the tent, to then just stomp around enough for the twins to notice him and pretend they weren't doing what he knew they were doing."

- One day however, Marco & Lorenzo are missing their trainer and can't find him. They run into Thea & Omar, who are missing their athlete. Hm. Weird. Wonder what's that all about :)

- They end up catching Michele and Herakles in the act, just out there somewhere underneath a tree, which, naturally, makes the Bontades VERY upset. Lorenzo: "What do you think you are doing?!" Omar, in his head: 'Herakles, obviously.' Marco: "He's the COMPETITION, Michele!" Both: "You've left us all alone for THAT?!" Since the Simonides were in on the whole thing, they're not surprised just disappointed that Herakles vanished without a heads up. "Well, that ain't sprinting practice."

- The most hilarious thing is that could not even tell you who wins the race. I didn't even think about that part until yesterday. I'm kind of particular to the thought that it's somewhat of a photo finish with the three of them, but the twins come out on top. Since there can only be one winner, they flippantly let one of them be chosen by the equivalent of a coin toss. So technically, either Marco or Lorenzo has won, but they keep both parading around with the wreath and insist that the inscription to them mentions them both as winners. Now, if they got their way is another story, I didn't read any academic articles on this at. all.

- Second place is as good as last in the Ancient Greek world, but Herakles takes the loss in stride. Timothea is probably the one who's most upset. Marco: "Hah, so all your flexing - " Lorenzo: "and all your fucking for nothing in the end!" Michele: "Hey, I'd like to think I'm a reward in and of myself, not an obstacle."

Sequel Bait:

- Back home in Siracusa, Michele gets asked if he doesn't want to train his cousins, too. The ones from Neapolis. The ones Michele can't stand. However, his mother talks him into it and he agrees. Extra funny because Lovino & Feliciano were also talked into it by THEIR parents. So Michele spends the next four years butting heads with Lovino, knowing fully well their mother will rip his head off if they don't do well. Lovino is of course hiding his giant insecurities about disappointing his loving father & mother behind snark. Michele will arrive at Olympia with four athletes in two this time and looks like he aged 40, not 4 years from all the stress.

- Herakles is no competition this time, though! He wants to try his hand at wrestling this year. However, very quickly after his arrival, he butts heads with a fellow wrestler from one of the Greek colonies in Asia minor. Only thing's more annoying than his big mouth, which he shares with his wrestling buddy, are probably the flirtations coming out of it & Herakles can't wait to show him his place. (Yes, I do know that the Turkish people came into the area that is modern day Turkey far, far later, he should be of another ethnicity [and he gotta be Greek to participate, anyways] but. Is any of you really going to deny me Herakles and Sadık wrestling, bucknaked, covered in oil? I'd hope the fuck not.)

[copperpieceharlot]

Bud I’m sorry to swing into your inbox uninvited like this but my soul is having an OOTS renaissance thanks to your content in the tag and did you say Leverage AU

haha holy SHIT this got Long. but yes. i’ve been. Thinking. (also literally Never feel like you have to apologize for sending me messages. i was Hoping someone would ask me about this. now i have an Excuse to share EVERYTHING ive written abt it :3)

Obviously, Roy is the leader/brains of the outfit. He grew up having some Strong Opinions abt what’s Legal versus what’s Right due to tragic backstory involving the death of his little brother which was definitely SOMEONE’S fault for negligence but since there technically wasn’t any illegal behavior, there were no consequences for it. Also he’s still angry at his dad bc he thinks his dad is also partly culpable (and also also just a dick). He’s the Moral Backbone of the team (alongside Durkon, more on that later) in basically the same way Nate was in og Leverage. He’s actually not the best at figuring out what people want (that’s Haley and, shockingly, occasionally Elan), but once he has that info, he is the absolute best at figuring out the ideal plan of attack to use in any given case.

Haley is still a thief. I mean she maps to Parker almost PERFECTLY. Her dad was a thief & a conman, her mom wasn’t but knew about it and mostly accepted it, but she died tragically in a mugging gone wrong or smth, which made Ian crank the paranoia WAY up and taught Haley to do the same in the name of “safety”. Let’s keep the “Ian is in Trouble and Haley needs money, Fast” which is why she signs on to the first job in the first place. She’s less acrobatic than Parker, tending towards finding (or making) weak spots in security, but she can still make a tumble check when she needs to.

Elan is the grifter who is somehow an Idiot but also not???? It baffles everyone. When he’s playing a part for a con, he’s FLAWLESS, but then the rest of the time he’s just. No Thoughts Head Empty. He probably gets lured in initially because he’s decided to try his hand at being part of a full team, rather than the two-man cons he’s been running that invariably end w his partner conning him as well and stealing half of his take. Also he likes the idea of being Crime Friends. He’s that tweet where it’s like, Roy: “after the heist is over, we split up and never communicate again” / Elan: [about to unveil his Crime Buddies Forever Friendship Quilt Puppets]: “never?”

Vaarsuvius is the hacker/gadget person. They have a Vaguely Snobby Yet Unidentifiable accent, dyed(?) purple hair (nobody has ever seen their roots) and nobody knows who they “really” are or where they came from, but they’re good at what they do so everyone just accepts the mystery. They probably got suckered into the team by their initial employer (who I’ll get to Eventually, lol) framing it as a challenge to their intellect, like, “oh, I see, you’re not smart enough to make this team work for you...” to which they were like Fucking Watch Me and also melted his computer. Anyways. They are joined (digitally) by their Intrepid Friend And Co-Conspirator (his words, not theirs), a fellow hacker known only as Blackwing, or, on certain forums, Blackwing_Bird. (In the first season, V only occasionally references him when saying they’re “calling in extra help” or smth for a particularly complex hack job. He starts showing up a little more in s2 and eventually by the start of s4 is a regular & established presence, but only appears as actions in a computer interface or output.) Elan is convinced he’s an AI, Belkar doesn’t think he actually exists, Haley pretends she doesn’t think he exists, and Durkon and Roy try not to think about it too hard, as long as B and V still get the job done.

Belkar is the hitter. He is on the team bc their initial employer got him out of jail for it. He doesn’t have a tragic backstory, he just likes doing violent crimes. As the series progresses, he grows some empathy & stuff, but really only for people who actually deserve it. Assholes still get decked. It’s all very touching. (Also he has dwarfism caused by achondroplasia. It doesn’t actually bother him and is useful in fights bc his opponents frequently have no fucking clue how to approach him, but he likes Pretending to take offense at stupid things just to see how far he can go with it.)

Aaaand last but not least, Durkon is the least involved member of the team. He’s actually a career criminal and Roy’s mentor, and wasn’t a member of the initial team that [redacted, I’ll tell you later, PROMISE] put together for a couple of reasons, the main one being that he’s Officially retired in order to spend more time with his family, which consists of his mom, his friend (not girlfriend) Hilgya, baby Kudzu, and a truly stunning number of aunts, uncles, and cousins. Roy frequently calls or visits him for advice and he Occasionally shows up to help out on local jobs, but generally he avoids doing crime if he can (as part of a deal with Hilgya, who is also a career criminal; basically, they’ve both cut back on the crime in order to provide a more stable home environment for Kudzu. But sometimes, you gotta do a little crime, and in those cases, Sigdi enjoys spending time w her grandson.)

NOW. THE BIG REVEAL YOU’VE BEEN WAITING FOR. Who got the team together in the first place?!

The answer: Lord Shojo (or whatever Normal Person Name you want to assign him). Now this is where it gets tricky: he had them do a thing that they thought was good, THEN they thought it was BAD, but then when they confronted him he revealed that it Appearing to be bad was actually a test of character and would they consider working as basically internal investigators for him? But then he had a heart attack, so, rip. But THEN it turned out that he’d left them a bunch of money anyway and they were all feeling kind of Inspired so they formed the Order of the Stick, LLC (which, no, i am not coming up with a new name, actually, because I just don’t care. someone else can come up w a justification for that name, tho, i’m sure it’s possible). Also Miko was there and was unhappy abt their actions, and also their general existence.

Moving on. Villains!

Redcloak is the Sterling replacement, because that DEEPLY amuses me.

Xykon is a season-long main villain, probably one that Redcloak finds himself working for but then “teams up with” (read: blackmails) the Order to bring him down bc even Redcloak finds Xykon distasteful. That’s season 3, let’s say.

Tarquin is another season villain, say season 2. Nale probably shows up pretty early in s1, actually, as another recurring antagonist like Sterling but uh. Less good at it. Anyways the s2 final 3 eps deal with them (accidentally) discovering that Tarquin runs some Evil Empire Company, then trying to outplay him and take him down. Idk if Nale still dies in this version tbh.

Tsukiko is a one-off s1 villain who returns briefly in s4 alongside Miko, who has gone well and truly off the rails.

Season 1 finale has to do w Roy finally getting Vengeance for his little brother.

The vampire squad is the s4 finale villain who do smth terrible to Durkon and then get the Mother Of All Revenge served up to them by the Order.

I envision the show as being 5 seasons (like og Leverage) but I’m not going to sketch out s5 because I think it should be based off whatever happens in the current story arc, possibly involving some legacy of the OotSquiggle.

Other stuff!

The Order of the Squiggle is a legendary criminal team from the 60s who stole a BUNCH of famous shit & then proceeded to legendarily implode. This has no bearing on the plot I’ve sketched out, I just think it’s fun.

The Sapphire Guard members should probably be reworked as FBI. I don’t care about most of them but I do think that Lien and O-Chul could be like, FBI agents who Choose to look the other way while the Order does their very-much-not-legal-but-still-fair Justice Crime, and maybe even help them out on occasion.

So, the Final season-by-season outline, based on everything I’ve written so far:

s1 e1: getting the team together, doing a con for Shojo, then at the end he dies and the gang is like “dang what now?" and intend to split up except then they Don’t.

mid-s1: Nale shows up and tries to trick the Order, but then gets beat like a drum.

late s1: Tsukiko is an underling of the Villain Of The Week, winds up in police custody. But She’ll Be Back.

s1 finale: Roy’s Vengeance: The Vengeaning. also we meet Redcloak as an antagonist.

s2 e1: the truth abt Haley’s father comes out

early s2: The Two Live Crews Job but it’s the Order vs the Linear Guild and the Linear Guild ARE all bad guys.

mid-s2: Redcloak returns. ugh.

late s2: the sapphire guard FBI makes its first appearance, hello O-Chul and Lien.

s2 pre-finale: once again they’re in conflict w Nale over smth, he spends the whole episodes making Cryptic Remarks, they basically beat him (like a drum!) but then the stinger at the end is that Tarquin reveals himself and Elan is like “Dad?!”, roll credits.

s2 finale, part 1: Elan is hanging out w Tarquin bc he’s DEEP in Denial, the Rest of the team tries to take Tarquin down, but it doesn’t work.

s2 finale, part 2: Elan finally gets a clue and they manage to beat Tarquin. still haven’t decided if Nale dies or not, but I’m leaning towards yes. also they rescue Haley’s dad.

s3 e1: fuck dude idk.

early s3: Redcloak shows up, AGAIN, everyone groans. he has blackmail on them, he wants them to take Xykon down.

mid s3: The Rashomon Job but it’s about stealing the Talisman of Dorukan and it turns out that Nale was there too (“oh!” Elan says. “I was wondering why I looked so weird in all those mirrors! But it wasn’t my reflection, it was Nale’s!” “Sweetie, that wasn’t Nale’s reflection,” says Haley. “Huh,” says Elan, “so the mirrors were broken?”, cue eye rolling from everyone else.), and the Successful thief was Hilgya, who’d nabbed it from the owner before it even went on display.

s3 finale: they beat Xykon, actually factually, because he deserves to get his ass Thoroughly kicked, even if only in AU form. Lien and O-Chul are there, so are some other less helpful FBI people. There’s a bit where O-Chul Exact Wordses his way out of telling his superiors about the Order’s less legal activities without technically lying. King shit.

s4 e1: doesn’t really matter. maybe smth to do w some legacy of Tarquin’s company to set up the drama w Malack & Durkon later.

early s4: Durkon gets SENT TO PRISON. Malack approaches the Order abt this because sure they have Different Ethics but they’re still Friends. (Roy is surprised and a little hurt that he’s never heard of Malack, but he ignores that in favor of Let’s Get Whatever Fuckers Did This To Our Friend.)

immediately after that: Miko and Tsukiko return as a Team, preventing the Order from working on the Durkon situation

mid s4: Redcloak makes another unexpected & unwelcome appearance but he’s maybe a little less of a dick? the Order collaborates with Malack & his Crime Buddies (hello, Vector Legion) to pull one over on him tho, because “less of a dick” does not mean “a pleasant or decent person”, and also he was mean abt Durkon being in jail, so he totally deserved it. he still gets whatever he wanted tho, just takes a blow to his pride. also prevents the Order from helping Durkon. they’re having a LOT of setbacks wonder why that could be, not to make sure the season fills its whole length or anything, no sirree

s4 finale: something something taking down the organization, headed by Hel (yes that’s her real name), which framed Durkon for their Big Crime. Durkon goes free and Extra Firmly retires, For Good, He Swears, but says he “met someone new” who might be an asset.

s5 e1: minrah joins the team! and the episode is set in like, somewhere really snowy. that’s all i got.

the rest of s5: don’t know, don’t care, it’s open-ended until the comic finishes up.

[amiscreations]

Def Leppard 😌

Of course! Aka my favourite band🥰 (this was for the band ask thing a while ago sjsjs I forgot I hadn't posted it yet)

favourite song:

my all time fave is Two Steps Behind! But recently I’ve been loving We Belong, Switch 625 and Stand Up (Kick Love into Motion)!

least favourite song:

im not too familiar with their wHOLE discography (yet👀), as I’m one of those people who likes to listen to songs as and when I discover them, and not go out of my way to discover them (if that makes sense lol) so idk. there are some I like much more than others ofc, but I honestly couldn’t tell you my least favourite.

have i ever seen them live:

Nope😭 I got into them mid pandemic, so I never even got the opportunity to get tickets etc. I also live in the UK, so it would just be too expensive to go to the stadium tour. I would like to in future tho, but it’s not a burning desire. I’m happy to just rewatch old concerts🥰

favourite band member:

I honestly love them all , but my favourite member is probably Sav! Idk I relate to him a lot, as we're both shy, but also super passionate about what we love doing. I also just love watching him perform, there’s just something about his sassy energy that puts a smile on my face, and again you can just tell that he's in his element🥰 also this might be controversial but I also think he has the best hair👀 (totally not growing my own hair to look like his sssh no)

least favourite band member:

again, I love them all, but if I had to choose it would probably be Pete jUST because I know the least about him, so I have less of a connection to him as a person. I still love him tho, he’s such an important member of the band, and I don't like it when people hate him for no reason🥰

how many of their albums i have:

none😅 I’m not too into collecting physical music if I’m honest, unless it’s gifted or in a sale. Tho bc they are my favourite band, and they mean a lot to me, I’d love to own some of their music in future!

favourite album:

Probably Adrenalize! but era wise its gotta be Hysteria! I really love Slang too, but a lot of the songs on there either make me sad, or I have to be in the right mood to listen to them. With Adrenalize, I can just put it on whenever and enjoy it🥰

favorite lyrics:

”cuz the best is yet to come”

"there's a magic running through your soul"

"Just hold me and don't let go"

"do you remember when we used to play? we were right and we were wrong, dancing to a different song everyday"

"Moving to the rhythm of your heartbeat"

"Like a fire needs flame, I burn for you"

"anytime is right to be alive"

(and probably a bunch more that I'm forgetting/ haven't discovered yet👀)

favorite music video:

Me and My Wine, Armageddon It and I Wanna Touch U!🥰 I especially love MAMW, not just for the general chaoticness of it, but also because it was apparently inspired by The Young Ones, which is one of my favourite shows that i grew up on!

ever met any members:

Nope😅 tho i had a customer at work who said he used to be a roadie for them when they toured in the 90s, so I’m 99% sure he knew them personally, so I’m technically one person away from meeting them🤣 that and also Rick liked my comment on insta once, so that’s the closest I’ve come🥰

[lovelyfinch]

my summary of ranboo’s story of his character from his stream

copied from my 5 page google doc i wrote instead of doing homework

this starts at the beginning and goes until 1hr 28 minutes into the stream

(i think i got basically everything he said)

joined the server, killed by dream, received a small tour from niki

the next day, he got a tour from tubbo, president of lmanburg. they talked about how ranboo was also running for president

shaped his first thoughts on lmanburg. that it was a good place.

finding michael with tubbo!

meets tommy! tommy tells him about george and ranboo agrees to burn down georges house (in order to not make enemies since he thought they had more than him)

niki and puffy were on a date and they tried to sneakily get past (asking niki for her armor, not suspicious at all)

tommy and ranboo grief georges house, accidentally burning it down. they ran from it, thinking they got away.

puffy asks if ranboo did it. ranboo couldn’t remember and doesn’t know why.

dream started building the walls on lmanburg

dream shows them georges house, destroyed. tommy gets blamed, ranboo is questioned bc puffy says she saw him. tubbo kills ranboo with the spoon (not canon)

the meeting hall to meet with dream. 

THE MINUTES MAN OF LMANBURG - tasked with taking the notes for the meeting

there was a pig man watching the meeting

the meeting did not go well. tommy brings out spirit against dream. dream played along but didn’t truly care, only caring for the disks.

tommy stood up for ranboo at the trial. they asked ranboo about it and he said his memory was bad but they cut him off. he never said he didnt remember the burning, only that his memory was bad.

being the minutes man gave him the idea to make the first Do Not Read book, writing who to trust and not trust

dream tubbo tommy quackity and fundy on the wall. tommy being taken away for some reason. the exile.

ranboo felt guilty because tommy wasn’t the only one who destroyed george’s house.

things in lmanburg were going great, he had a house and pets and was the minutes man and technically part of the cabinet

feeling guilty, he visits tommy in exile a few times. ranboo could tell something was off with him, with dream. so he wrote letters to tommy, trying to understand what he was going through in exile.

things were good, he built the ice cream shop with fundy

one day ranboo was approached whilst writing in his memory book. quackity tells him that techno is a traitor, the reason things are bad. and that they were gonna go get him and bring him to justice. which ranboo thought meant a trial and such.

the first butcher army meeting. ranboo is confused by it, the bloody butcher outfits. 

traitors are bad right? can’t have traitors

the butcher army went to technos place. ranboo shot a few arrows, maybe intentionally missing “he is a person still”

q gets carl and so techno agrees to go with the army

the execution. no trial. techno gets executed but survived.

phil, who saved ranboo from lava, who ranboo liked, gets put on house arrest. phil is mad at the army but ranboo was saying how he didnt think itd just be an execution. so the two are on even/neutral grounds.

ranboo talks to ghostbur, who calls him an aaron burr. they go to the snow, to technos. techno immediately tries to kill ranboo, who was just part of the butcher army. threatens him until he gives back all his armor.

tommy was at technos too. with techno. ranboo is surprised and writes it in his memory book.

ranboo goes back to lmanburg. realizes he just betrayed the entire butcher army by giving the armor back and saying he doesnt know where tommy is.

he kept seeing techno and tommy around lmanburg with dogs for some reason

he was kind of on both sides, techno/tommys and lmanburgs. he doesnt want to choose so he decides to help everyone

the festival plan to try to kill dream. ranboo spent time making festival games (the trident game!)

dream arrives and starts building the wall again

before the festival ranboo met with techno and tommy.

the community house was blown up. gone. 

according to dream it was techno and tommy.

dream says hes gonna blow up lmanburg again. techno joins him. blow it all the way to bedrock.

dream calls ranboo out as a traitor in front of everyone. dream has ranboos book. the first memory book. which ranboo had lost a few days prior, and found somewhere he didn’t put it. it had been moved. dream gives it to tubbo

THE PANIC ROOM. a place for him to think. the water outside providing a white noise. 

ranboo realizes that he kept choosing sides. he decides to choose people.

ranboo wonders how dream had his memory book

he checks the memory book and just finds the smile. the first smile. “all that was left is a smile”

that book becomes the second memory book.

the destruction of lmanburg on the horizon, they band together to attempt to stop it.

he speaks out. there are lots of people watching him

eye contact. he lashes out at people, as his judgement is impaired

he goes back to the panic room

the dream voice. a voice that is him but sounds like dream. it tells him that by trying to help everyone he has just betrayed everyone. ranboo doesn’t believe the voice because all he did was give techno his armor under pressure, right?

he decides the best thing to do is help the people who have helped him. lmanburg. 

but the first memory book is still missing

“it was time for doomsday”

they thought they still had time to save lmanburg. but then they heard explosions and withers.

lmanburg. “it was falling. it was gone”

people were suddenly switching sides and in the chaos of the destruction ranboo hears techno ask “what’s this do not read book”

ranboo runs to techno to get the book, techno has it. techno gave him the book and told him to get out of there, that he has no issue with him. techno showed ranboo mercy when he could have killed him

ranboo doesnt know where he stands with the destruction of lmanburg. so he watched. “watched as lmanburg fell”

he talks with fundy, with quackity, after the fall. fundy seemed off. quackity seemed to forgive ranboo, having read the book and changed his mind.

ranboo didn’t know what to do

“someone came in and asked me if i was okay. phil. phil realized that when he blew up everything” that ranboo was one of the few who lived in lmanburg and had no more home. phil offers him a place to stay, with him and techno

the situation is awkward at first but they get through it

MELLOHI

ranboo hears mellohi. “a disk from somewhere far away” “it was from the panic room”

he goes back to the panic room. “why was i hearing this from all the way over there” and takes out the disk. but then “an old friend came back. the voice.” 

but this time with more to say. that he was more of a traitor than he thought. the voice tells him that he has been helping dream the entire time. but that he just didn’t remember that. that he had something to do with the community house and other things on the server.

the voice wasnt dream. it was what he thought was himself trying to fill the gaps with memories.

he denies the voices claims. “you have no proof”

the voice says to mine an obsidian block. behind it are two pieces of tnt. 

he still doesnt believe the voice

ranboo is very confused. did he do it? did he not?

the disk war. tommy and tubbo had begun to prepare.

“the disks were very important right?”

“and then i just… lived. for a while.”

“for the first time in a while, happy. and that was good”

and so he decides that he is done. “done with living in fear of the dream voice”

and so he goes to the dream voice

“the dream voice said, hey? you literally have a disk”

“there’s no way i could have a disk right?”

but the voice says that he hid it. he met with dream. so he searched. and he found a disk. the disk. in a chest under his house. 

“so then i realized. something’s going on. there must be a reason why i cant remember these visits with dream, right?”

he “had been sleepwalking of sorts but that was a problem for another day”

time for the disk war. everyone thought that both tommy and tubbo would die

(he forgets what happens next? canon? idk)

dream was now in prison.

he decides to call the sleepwalking state enderwalking

everything was good. except the egg, but “we don’t gotta care about that”

ranboo has the “good idea” to visit dream

so he visits the prison. everything went normally. except “dream told me exactly what i didnt want to hear. apparently i had been visiting dream. i had been talking to dream.”

“and apparently i was one of his best friends”

and dream hands him his own memory book. the entire chest was filled with memory books.

“dream disappeared. and the prison started to crumble. and i guess the entire prison visit was just the dream voice but even worse”

so he didnt know what to do “i guess i’ll keep my head down. i didn’t really do much during that time”

but he needed to visit the prison again. “for real. to actually get closure”

he gets in to the lobby. sam asks his questions. and asks when the last time he visited. “and of course i havent visited before. so i said this is my first time.” and sam said “very funny” and tells him he has visited before. 

“i had technically visited the prison in the enderwalk. i asked sam to show me the books and they were written in ender”

he looked through the memory books, the three he had now. nothing showed that he had visited before. “there must have been a fourth book”

“i dont know what the fourth book is. and i still dont know where it is to this day”

“the fourth book wasnt a memory book. it was a book of the enderwalk” so he’s searching for it

he tried but nothing worked.

“i guess i was just kind of living. i noticed my tools on lower durability and my beacon had gone missing”

“the best thing to do is just live”

visiting snowchester a lot

done cool things with techno. techno was his friend now

“i was happy”

building the bee n boo, got married for tax reasons. 

the news. “after saving michael we got news. tommy had died. tommy was dead.”

the grieving stage.

one day ranboo decided to just relax. and then he sees niki. “what was niki doing at me techno and phils house?”

decided to be “extra stealthy” and watch out the window

techno asks him about anarchy, and ranboo says “that sounds good”

ranboo “had become part of something called the syndicate” which seemed to be for conflict resolution

tells the syndicate tommy died

tommy was alive? “somehow tommy was still alive. how? how is that possible?” 

and then something happened. ranboo gets brought to a room. with two shrines and a hallway. with everything people value.

he started to remember. to hear things. 

“so dream had a revive book. he was trying to control the server by using everyones loved things against them”

he doesnt remember when punz and everyone came and saved tommy and tubbo from being killed by dream

dream had to be stopped “before he could bring back the villains”

he has michael to protect now

tommy approaches while he is with tubbo. and ranboo agrees with tommy. they build that tower

talks with ghostbur “and he seemed like he didnt want to go, which was interesting”

“so right now im trying to kill dream”

but the enderwalk is still an issue. he needs to figure out how to stop the enderwalk. “it hasnt happened in a while, right?”

the reason he is doing everything is to make sure his adopted son, michael, is safe.

and that is the story so far.

[ladybugsfanfics]

The Case of the Blue Sweater | Tom Hiddleston

Pairing: Mob!Tom Hiddleston x cop!reader

Style: one shot

WC: 10.7k 

Warnings: crime, alcohol, drinking, implied sexual content (very much so), uhh, theres no blood, also NB: THIS STORY IS INCOMPLETE AND I WONT BE THE ONE TO FINISH IT! (story is also unedited to please dont hate me for any mistakes)

Summary:  Hey so I read your Mob!Tom x reader and it got me thinking.. Could you write a Fic where Tom is in the mob but the reader is a cop? And like they’re secretly dating but technically the reader has to make it look like they’re hunting him down but they really aren’t? (If that makes sense) Idk I feel like I just need this in my life rn 😂😂

A/N: i got this ask back in january i think and i jumped on it right away, but at some point tumblr deleted it so i cant tag who asked (and i know this wasnt anonymous bc i remember but i never put it in the doc annoyingly). anyways, i started writing it, got to 10k words and lost motivation and never finished it. i really like the AU but nothing ever really happened.... im so sorry.  I hope you enjoy what i have ^_^

A loud ringing paired with the loudest on and off buzzing from your phone vibrating on the nightstand is what pulls you out of your slumber. The sounds screech in your ears and you reach over to stop it, to just slide the button over so that your ears can stop bleeding. However, as you lean out of the arms wrapped around you, their grip strengthens and you’re dragged back into the chest of the man sharing your bed. 

“Tom,” you say. A smile plays on your lips, the set of events not unusual for an early morning.

He nuzzles into your hair, places a wet kiss at the base of your neck. “Five minutes,” he mumbles into your skin. 

You shake your head slightly, as much as you can with the limited space. “Can I at least turn the sound off?” 

His grip slackens, making you able to reach the little way over to turn off the blaring alarm. The silence that comes with is welcome in every way, but the relief isn’t long-lasting when Tom drags you back into his chest, his nose quickly nuzzling back to where it was. 

Two seconds is what it takes before he’s pressing kisses to your neck. Rough, slender fingers graze up the side of your body until they reach your neck, where they brush away your hair. With Tom’s easy access, the soft kisses slowly turn into something more, something rougher, and the use of his tongue causes a slight tickle to trail through your body. 

“Tom.” You shift a little where you lay, taking away his access as you turn your head. In the shift, the man easily moves to trail kisses up your jaw, and as you whisper his name again, his lips connect with yours. 

It’s a hungry kiss. He sucks at your bottom lip and his hand grabs your jaw, holding your head in place. You lean into him, kissing him back with equal fervor, however, you’re quickly dragged out of the bliss, when your phone goes off again. 

There is no mistaking the death glare Tom sends the mini-computer. You chuckle slightly and push him off you to reach it. This time, it’s not an alarm, but a phone call. 

Your boss’s call ID lights up the screen, and you give Tom a stern look as you press to accept the call. With the phone to your ear, Tom shrugs and moves under the covers. His hands trail down your body, teasing you as his fingers trace up your inner thighs. 

“Y/L/N,” you say. 

A grunt is heard from the other side first, then, “I need you to come in ASAP.” Your boss’s voice sounds urgent, desperate. 

You check the clock. “I’m not supposed to come in in another hour,” you reply. “Is it that important?” 

“Yeah, wouldn’t have called you otherwise.” It’s like you can hear him nod and roll his eyes at the same time. “We got a lead in the case.”

“What kind of lead? And which case?”

As your boss answers, you can feel Tom’s tongue on the inside of your thigh. In surprise at the feeling you barely manage to suppress the squeal that works up in your throat, and you miss your boss’s reply. (You don’t miss Tom’s smug laugh from under the duvet, nor how he continues to work his way closer to your clit.)

“Y/L/N?” comes from the other end of the line when you gain back… well, really some of your dignity, but mostly your mind. 

“I’m here, sir.” You sigh. “Just something that happened that caught my attention. Cat nearly knocked down something made of glass.” 

(You don’t have a cat, why was that the first excuse you could come up with? Your boss doesn’t know that, though, so it’s safe.)

“Didn’t know you had a cat, but that could happen to the best of us.” Your boss clears his throat. “The lead’s pretty good, but can’t say it over the phone so you gotta come in. It’s on the case about the Blue Sweater.” 

You roll your eyes at the nickname of the case. One of the major criminals you were trying to take down is often seen wearing blue sweaters, and at a briefing you’d offered it as a code name; who knows who listens in on phone calls―they do seem to have a knack for being one step ahead of you, too. 

But you don’t mention that to your boss. “Alright, sir, I’ll be on my way as fast as I can.” 

“Make it less than half an hour and we’re good.” 

“No problem, sir.” 

Your boss is the one to hang up, and as you throw your phone down on the bed, Tom peeks his head up from under the covers. You send him a glare. “You should be happy you didn’t get started whilst I was on the phone.” 

Your boyfriend smirks up at you. “Oh, you wouldn’t have liked that?”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t like it.” 

Tom shrugs. “You got time, right?” Though before you can answer he slides back under the cover, uses his hands to steady your hips and dips his head low. God, if only you had more time. 

--

The moment the elevator door opens and you step out into the crowded office space of the police station, you hear your name being called. You wish you weren’t the head detective on the, currently, biggest case pertaining to crime bosses. Just once you wish you could come to work and not have at least five people at a time want to ask you a question or pepper you with information you already have. 

You kind of wish you weren’t the head detective for another reason, too, but that’s a minor detail. Actually, that might be the reason you need to be the head detective; way easier to steer an investigation when you’re leading it. 

Nonetheless, you have no choice in which cases you lead or not. And that’s usually the reason why there’s three people cluttering your desk as you sit down. You’re not entirely sure that’s the reason today. 

You plop down in your chair and stare up at the talking men in front of you. The three of them notice you quickly (after all, it was them that yelled your name) and the chatter dies out. 

“I’m here half an hour early and I would love to know what made me skip my morning shower.” (It would have been morning shower sex, and you are a little very annoyed that you had to skip it.)

Your boss coughs, gaining your attention. “Briefing room. Five minutes.” The man looks slightly uncomfortable, but that’s not a big surprise. You’ve been told many times that you have that kind of face that makes people squirm; just something about you is, apparently, intimidating. 

“Okay.” 

And he walks away. 

“You two doing at my desk then?” you ask your coworkers. The two men are your right and left hand in most cases, but this one especially. You wouldn’t even be half the way you are now if you didn’t have them. (Though how much that says, you’re not sure, because you really have nothing.)

“Well…,” starts Mackie. His hand goes up to scratch his neck. “...really we just naturally gravitate here.”

You squint at him, and divert your gaze to Evans (who you know is a shitty liar). Even though you’re not opening your mouth to say anything and he isn’t looking at you, you can see the big man trying to make himself smaller. 

“We were gonna try and see if you’d left a hint to who you’re sleeping with,” he says, and despite the way he doesn’t meet your gaze, he says it so casually you’re actually taken aback. 

“Excuse me?” You let out a huff, and shake your head. “My sex life is my sex life. You two” ―you point at both of them― “have no business with it.” You stand up from your chair and shake your head yet again. “And if you really think I’d leave evidence lying around, I gotta figure out how to let you know that’s not something I’d do.” 

(And if you had, well, your career would for sure be over. If not worse.)

But with that out of the way, you make your way to the briefing room. Captain Cheadle, your boss, stands at the head of the table. In his hand, he holds a wireless presenter, and a few papers are scattered on the table in front of him. You take your place at the table, and as you do, your phone buzzes to signal a new message. 

The captain gives you a shrug and that’s all the permission you need to fish your phone from your pocket and check the text. 

[08.38] twh darling, you left something at your flat

[08.38] you you talking about yourself? that doesnt count

[08.39] twh that too but no, you left your keys

[08.39] you you doing anything today?? 

[08.39] twh you know i am, but i can get them to you

[08.40] you gtg but yes please or there are other solutions…

You let out a slight groan knowing you’ll have to figure out how to get your keys without actually meeting Tom. You can’t meet in public, and there are few places where you can meet without being discovered; there’s a reason you’re always at your apartment and never at his house. (well, you’ve been there once, but that was with work and it doesn’t count.)

Whatever his reply is to the latest text you sent, you don’t get to read (though you do feel the vibration on your thigh). Captain Cheadle has called for your attention, Mackie and Evans having seated themselves in the room as well, and you can’t do anything but pay attention to your boss. 

“The tip we got is an inside tip.” The captain steps aside to let the projector show a photo of the biggest crime boss currently in New York City, Tom Hiddleston. As with every other photo he’s in, he’s wearing a fucking blue sweater. “The source is reliable, as we know of their work with Hiddleston, but we’re not sure if the tip is.” 

He clicks to another photo, which is of the same man getting into a car. Only, he’s getting into the driver’s seat, something that is unusual for someone that has his own driver. “We can’t know if the tip is true or not, but we’re guessing there’s some truth to it.”

You roll your eyes slightly (not enough for the captain to notice). “Can you tell us what it is yet?”

Captain Cheadle nods. “There’s been a mystery woman in his life. None of his men know, but based on a lift in spirits and an increase in nights gone from his own house, they believe he has to be seeing someone. Rumor amidst his men, according to our tip, is that it's been going on for a few months.”

A knot tightens in your gut. A few months is a little less than correct, but yeah… It’s been six months since you started dating Tom Hiddleston. Off work, on a weekend, you met him in a bar, you got drunk and your mind didn’t work in any other way than tell you how hot he was and how good he made you feel. There was little persuasion needed for Tom to get you in a bed, naked, and screaming out his name. And so far, he’s managed to do it most nights since. 

(The case had been assigned to you a month after your first encounter. You’d known his name well before you met him, but that hadn’t stopped you. And, even as his girlfriend, you had no evidence on him whatsoever.)

Yet, after six months of no one knowing anything, you’d been fairly certain you’d get away with it. At least until either one of you got enough of pretending. Tom has enough money for you to quit your job should it come to it, the only problem being that you don’t want to because you love your job. 

“Did your source say anything about who the woman could be? Where to find her?” asks Evans. 

You wait patiently for the reply. Your gut stirs with the thought that they’d know, that just your face (usually a poker-face no one could read no matter how much you panicked on the inside) would reveal you. But you aren’t revealing anything but being deep in thought, as you can feel Mackie’s eyes on you as your own flicker across the room and a frown has pronounced itself on your face. 

“The tip was slight, but the source believes that there might be something to check at a bar. It’s one Hiddleston frequents, High Rise.”

Oh, if only the name didn’t chime with recognition at the back of your mind. There isn’t much to do but accept your fate and follow up on the lead, only try your best to avoid being recognized as the girl who left with Tom Hiddleston half a year ago. That could be rather easy, seeing as the bar was dark and you’d been wearing more make-up than usual and the dress you wore hadn’t stood out in any way, and it being six months ago.

You nod at captain Cheadle. “Anything else we should know?” 

He nods slightly. “There came one more thing with the tip, but this wasn’t a written message.” He roams around his papers for something and eventually fishes out an evidence bag. Inside is an envelope and something small you can’t see from far away. He slides it across the table to you. 

Your heart skips a beat at the sight of what lies in the bag. The envelope easily recognizable as one you’d written yourself (though you’d used a typewriter―fancy―so there isn’t any handwriting to check), and the content a barely visible silver and gold wristband inscribed with a phrase Tom has whispered time and time again in your ear (the most intimate you’ve been outside of sex); my safe spot is with you in my arms. 

Your fingers graze over it as you look at the inscription. “That’s pretty intimate,” you say, and an agreed murmur comes from your captain. 

“You traced it?” asks Mackie. 

“Untraceable. Paid in cash, no receipt, and might even have been done illegally.” 

At least you know that that’s not true, and if they’d tried just a little bit harder, it wouldn’t be that hard. 

“Fingerprints?” you ask, though not sure exactly where it comes from. (Or, well, it comes from the fact that you’ve touched the wristband on several occasions and that, unless wiped, there should be fingerprints all over it.)

You look up from the evidence bag to see captain Cheadle shake his head. “A few around the clasp, but none enough to make a full print, and any other we could find are only Hiddleston’s. The envelope’s the same”

“The question is whether Hiddleston sent it to someone or if someone sent it to him.” Evans motions for you to slide the evidence over to him, and you do. 

“He’s the biggest crime lord in New York, he’s gotta be real smitten if he’d make that to send to someone.” Mackie shrugs, not sold on the idea that Tom Hiddleston, crime boss extreme, could be sappy enough to send it apparently. 

Well, if only you knew what Tom would do for the one he loves, if only you knew.

“Well,” you say and clap your hands together, “seems we have more to do today than reports.” 

A slight chuckle comes from the three men in the room with you. 

“I want you, Mackie, with me on a trip down to High Rise. Captain, is it possible to talk to our source other than written communication?” 

A nod. 

“Then I want you, Evans, to have a little chat with Hiddleston’s ex-buddy. Let’s see if he doesn’t have more information, and if you can’t get much, try a little harder on the wristband. There’s gotta be something to look for there, maybe mention it to our source?”

“On it.” Evans gives you a thumbs up, grabs the evidence and walks out the door. You and Mackie move to do the same, and on your way there, you fish your phone out from your pocket. 

[08.41] twh i’ll have to get back to you on that, but you can probably count me in have a good day, darling

[09.27] you sounds great but, on some not so good news, you got a snitch amidst you and i have smth that belongs to you in evidence

You don’t wait for a reply, certain he’s busy and also because Mackie is a nosy asshole and you’re not gonna get caught on a text message. 

“You know where High Rise is?” asks Mackie as you make your way to your desk. 

“GPS exists, but I have a hunch,” you say as you grab your jacket. Unfortunately, that hunch is more a hunch that your relationship is getting threatened by your work. 

(“A hunch. Yeah, right, you’ve probably been there.”

“Careful what you say there, kiddo.”

“I’m older than you!”

“And yet, I’m driving.”)

--

[09.53] twh name? and what might that be?

[11.16] you i didnt get one but one of my guys is questioning him smth i bought you

[11.17] twh ill figure it out, and that has to be my wristband. how? 

[11.17] you you tell me

Mackie nudges your arm with his elbow as you make it inside the bar. It’s mostly deserted, highly unlike the life that was there the last time you set foot in the place. A man sits in the booth in the back sipping what looks like whiskey based on the glass and the brown liquid inside. By the entrance, a woman and a man sit across each other at a table. Each of them have a beer, though only the man looks to have touched his, and the woman doesn’t look too happy with him. 

However, you turn your attention to the bar, and the bartender behind the counter. Fortunately, he’s not the same one that was here when you were. Making your way over, you note the exits (the one you came in through, a backdoor in the kitchen, and―one you noted the first time you were there―the window in the ladies’ room). You also note the man sitting at the edge of the bar counter, back hunched over and an old fashioned placed in front of him. Untouched. 

“How can I help you?” asks the man behind the counter. A bushy beard covers his chin, ruffled brown hair the top of his head, and tattoos cover his upper arm, visible where his t-shirt sleeve ends. In his hands he holds a cleaning towel and a glass, but as you sit down, he slings the towel over his shoulder and puts the glass down. “Guessing beer for you, sir, and maybe a scotch on the rocks for the lady?”

You shake your head, and roll your eyes at Mackie’s almost nod. You’re at work, you’re not gonna drink. “Sorry, mister, but we’re here on other business.” You pull out your badge and give him a peek. 

The bartender’s eyes go wide. “Sorry, ma’am, didn’t know. You could've fooled me.” He holds out a hand. “I’m Tom Hardy, co-owner of this shithole.”

“Shithole?” Mackie eyes the man. 

“Can’t say there’s a lot of good going on in here, really. Nothin’ illegal, though.” Hardy winks at Mackie and you roll your eyes. The last thing you care about is the tiny illegal things going on at the bar. “What can I help you with? There’s not been any complaints, right?”

Mackie shakes his head. “Relax, man, it’s got nothing to do with you. We’re looking for information on a man, also named Tom, but with a different last name. Hiddleston, heard of him?”

The scoff Tom Hardy comes with is barely audible, but you catch it and cock your head to the side. 

“Who hasn’t heard of Tom Hiddleston? Supposedly a big mafia boss, but the police has got nothing on him.” 

“We got word he frequents this bar. That true?”

Hardy nods. “He’s by at least once a week, sometimes more.” 

You try to drown the ache that falls over your heart knowing he still comes by. “You know what he’s here for?” 

The bartender shrugs. “Don’t get into that shit, but I know he has a deal with my co-owner, Luke Evans.” 

Mackie pulls out a pad and a pen and writes down the name. “Hiddleston ever leave here with a girl in the last few months?” 

Hardy shakes his head. “Nah, leaves with the same men, though he has gotten different. Before he used to indulge a little more with the women, but now he seems to not want to. They want him, though.” 

The ache fades a little at that. He’s loyal, he’s trustworthy, he’s yours. “Did he use to leave with girls before?” you ask. 

“Dunno. He’s usually here when Luke works, only some shifts we got together.” Hardy shrugs. “Though the times I have been here, he’s never left with a girl. He’s followed some into the bathroom, but never left with one. Gotta be some special girl for him to leave with her.” 

You suppress the smile that tugs at your lips. “Thank you, mister Hardy. Could you get us in touch with your co-owner? We wanna have a little chat with him, too.” 

“He works tonight. Sorry, can’t give you anymore.” The man picks up a glass again. “But if we’re done here, you’re gonna have me excused. I have a job to do.”

“Thanks for the cooperation,” says Mackie and pushes away from the counter. “We might come back for more.” 

You say a small goodbye as you follow after your coworker. On the way to the door, your eyes stray to the man in the back of the bar. Something about him seems off, and even more so when he holds up his glass and tips it your way with a slight hint of a ‘cheers’. The creepy smirk that places itself on his face sparks no comfort, and you let out a sigh as you walk through the door Mackie holds open for you. 

“Something wrong?” he asks. 

“Got a weird feeling from one of the dudes in the bar. Might be nothing, might be something.” You shake your head, slowly, as your thoughts whirr around in your head. “Doesn’t matter. If he’s here tonight, I might check into it, but it’s probably nothing.” 

Mackie shrugs. “We didn’t really get that much here either, though. Hope Evans got better luck.” 

“Yeah, gotta hope. But I have a feeling our source might’ve changed his mind on talking.” You open the car door and get in, Mackie following your lead. “I have a feeling Evans might not have been very lucky.”

“You thinkin’ we might end up with… homicide?”

You shrug. “Can’t be sure, but wouldn’t be surprising. Don’t believe we’re gonna be able to connect it to Hiddelston, though.” You start the engine and pull out on the road. “Don’t believe we’re gonna have any connection other than the guy’s snitching.”

“Good enough to talk to him.”

“Good enough to blow what we have if we do.”

--

The police station became a place of chaos in a matter of seconds. One moment, you’re talking to Evans on what he could find (the source had disappeared without a trace), and the next, it’s like the station is on fire. 

Evans, Mackie and yourself are out of the loop. You lean against your desk, your coworkers leaning against the neighboring ones, and look at the chaos erupted around you. People run from one place to another, screaming for help or otherwise. 

Then silence consumes the crowd as someone turns up the sound of the TV in the background. You turn to see the screen. On it, there’s a picture of a fire and countless dead bodies, burnt crisps until there is nothing recognizable left to see. 

“In just a few minutes the house, that belongs to the infamous crime boss Tom Hiddleston, went up in flames. Whether the man himself was in the house or not, we do not know. Police have yet to arrive at the scene, and the firemen are doing their best to put out the blazing fire. So far, we have no witnesses and no way of knowing what caused it. We’ll be back soon with more updates.”

You lock eyes with Evans and Mackie. 

“Our source was in that fire, wasn’t he?” Mackie makes a grimace, and then shakes his head and throws his hands up in the air. “You called it. You fucking called it.”

“I didn’t want to call it.” You shake your head. “And we’re not the force to go out there either, so we’re gonna need someone to talk to Hiddleston about this, about his source, without it being suspicious.”

Evans gets up from his place. “I’ll ask Sebastian.”

“That buddy of yours?” you ask. 

“This is the kind of case he gets called out on.” 

“Go ahe―”

“Y/L/N!” You’re cut off by the sound of your captain yelling your name. “You’re going out with the team. Take one of the boys. Don’t alert Hiddleston, but he’ll know why you’re there.”

“You got it, sir.” You turn to Mackie and Evans. “Looks like we got some luck after all. Which one of you wanna join me?”

--

When you pull up to the scene, the fire has been put out. But the fire that is the press and the countless people that’ve decided this is something they need to see live, that has yet to be handled. 

You and Evans walk up to the police barricade tape and shove it aside. An office tries to stop you, but you easily walk past after a flash of your badge. The head officer on the case is easily recognizable where he commands what looks like some junior officers. 

“What’s the deal?” you ask. 

He turns to you, and there you find Evans’s and Mackie’s friend, Sebastian Stan. He smiles at the two of you. “Got five casualties, one critically hurt on his way to the hospital. Medics think his fate’s been sealed. Other than that the fire’s been put out, and the owner of the house arrived about five minutes ago.” Sebastian points to a male figure pacing up and down the sidewalk. “Don’t know if I’d wanna talk to him though.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “We haven’t got much choice.” You’re about to walk from the officer, but you have one last question. “You got any identities on who died?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing, and so far it seems the fire was an accident. No fuel used of any kind, nothing weird about the source, and the six that were in the house weren’t close to it. Three of them were asleep.”

“Didn’t the house have a smoke alarm?” asks Evans. 

Sebastian shakes his head. “Nope. And you’re not gonna believe what they, as of now, believe to be the source.”

“What?”

“A hair dryer. Wasn’t turned off.” 

You frown. “A hair dryer? Nothing else? It’s a pretty big house. Seems like a long shot.”

Sebastian shrugs. “So far we’ve ruled out arson, and seeing how annoyed the owner is over there, safe to say he wasn’t planning on burning his house down.”

Don’t say that. He wouldn’t care, seeing as that isn’t the house he uses mostly―that’s just the public one. 

Even Evans knows that, and you give him a look as you move away from Sebastian and towards said owner of the house. 

“Hiddleston,” you say as you near him. 

The man turns around. His expression is curious rather than angry, but something tugs at his lips as his gaze flickers over to Evans. “Miss Y/L/N, what do I owe the lovely pleasure?” 

“Your house burned down. Five of your men dead, and a sixth one just holding on. We’re thinking he’ll die, too, medics said it was critical.” You shrug. “But you already knew that, right?”

Tom smiles, and takes a step closer to you. You have to hold out a hand to stop Evans from coming in between, knowing you have somewhat of a bodyguard in the man. “Darling.” Tom’s hand comes up to cup your cheek and you have to fight the urge to lean into his touch. “How could I know that? No one wants to tell me a bloody thing.” His voice changes fast at the last sentence, the annoyance creeping in. 

“Did you set the fire?” asks Evans. 

You roll your eyes. “He doesn’t mean to ask that. But we would like to know if there are any of your acquaintances missing?” 

Tom nods. “There’s one I wanted to talk to. Name’s Aaron Taylor-Johnson. Haven’t been able to contact him since last night, and that’s unusual.”

“You think he was in the fire?” 

The male shakes his head. “I don’t believe he was there at all, but I do believe he would do this. I got the impression he isn’t quite happy with me, or my decisions lately.”

He’s the snitch. 

“We’ll let you know if he was in the fire.” You use your hand to push Tom’s hand away from your face, his touch lingering a little too long to be a play (but you weren’t going to complain.) “I have one other inquiry.”

“Go on.” 

You take a deep breath before the words leave your mouth. He should be prepared, considering you told him what was in the evidence bag, but you can’t be sure. “Any girlfriends or women in your life we should know about?” 

He smiles (god, that smile). “Other than you, love?” 

Smooth. You can practically hear Evans roll his eyes behind you. 

“Yes, other than me.”

“Then no. I have a far too busy life to deal with girlfriends,” he says, and winks, “though you shouldn’t hesitate to contact me.” Tom leans in close, his lips grazing your ear and his hand taking yours―something cold grazes your fingers. “I can give you a night you won’t forget.” 

You don’t let the hitch in your breath show, and when he places a kiss to your cheek, you only stare at him as he pulls away (and let your hand find comfort in your jacket pocket where you let go of your keys).. “Don’t leave town, Mister Hiddleston.” 

“I won’t, darling.” 

And then you walk away together with Evans. He keeps glancing behind him, and the confusion is written on his face. 

“Just ask,” you say as you reach the car. 

Evans opens the door. “How are you not fazed by that?” he asks. 

You get into the car and shrug. “Because I don’t let it. He thinks it’s fun to play with me because I don’t have a reaction―” (ehehe, yeah right) “―I think it’s fun to let him. Eventually, something has to slip and we’ll be able to catch him on the spot.”

“But you gotta allow yourself to be harassed to do so?” 

You chuckle. “I wouldn’t call it harassment, hon. I call it work.”

Evans frowns as you start the engine and pull out of the parking spot. “What do you mean?”

“Haven’t you noticed? When it comes to sexual harassment, Tom Hiddleston is the least of my worries.”

--

It’s supposed to be a brief stop; get into your apartment, change into something that doesn’t drag attention at a bar on a Thursday night (probably not going to be too crowded anyways), and get out. 

But when you walk in through the door, you see a pair of shoes kicked off in the entrance hall. A coat lies draped over your living-room armchair―a coat easily recognizable. 

You hurry to close the door, and kick off your own shoes. The trail of clothes leads you further into the apartment. A dress shirt folded together and placed on the cupboard in your living room. Pants lie discarded on the floor in the doorway to your bedroom. And the man who it belongs to, you find tangled in your sheets, buck naked with the exception of the tie around his neck. 

“What do you want?” you ask him, an amused smile plastered on your face as you shake your head. 

Tom lifts his head a little. A smirk colors his face and he shrugs. “Thought I could surprise you a little, before I have to get going.” He checks the wristwatch on his arm (which you first now noticed he hasn’t taken off either). “But you’ve used quite a lot of time to get here, and now we barely have time for anything.”

You shake your head, smile gone. “Sorry, babe, but I haven’t got the time.”

“What? You have plans for the evening?” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice, but it still slightly hurts seeing as you barely get out of the apartment when you get time off. Really, six months ago was a chance meeting unlike any other.

“I have work.” You move to open your wardrobe. “But if you want, you can help me figure out what to wear.” You turn your head to cast Tom a glance, eyebrow raised. 

He turns a little, enough for the sheet that had covered him to fall off and leave him fully exposed. And with just the tie as a piece of clothing, you have to turn back around. God, what that man can do. You grit your teeth as you open the door and file through the few dresses you own, patiently waiting for his response. 

“What is it for?” he asks, and his velvet smooth voice does nothing to ease the growing arousal in your gut, not with the image of him and that tie the only thing on your mind. 

You swallow before you reply, but you don’t dare turn around. “Gotta talk to the owner of a bar, and don’t wanna drag attention with people there so we agreed to act less like police. Might have to have a drink or two.” You sigh, and close your eyes. “You should have waited with this until then.”

“What?” His voice is in your ear, warm breath fanning your neck. You bite down on your lower lip, hard. “You don’t like it? You’re not enjoying it?” His hands find the hem of your shirt. Fingers graze up along your skin and you find yourself complying when he makes a move to drag it off. 

“Tom,” you whisper. You lean into him, into the fingers tracing along your bra and the way his lips ghost over the skin on your shoulder, up your neck. “I don’t―” You shudder as he presses a kiss to your jaw. “Ba― Babe, I don’t have―”

He tips your head back and his lips find yours. Barely touching, you close your eyes, and the image of Tom in bed and you using the tie to drag him to you has you swallow, almost succumbing to the pleasure you know you’ll get. His voice is low when he speaks. “Don’t have what?” 

You don’t answer as your hand shoots up to press his head closer to yours, to push your lips together. Everything you can think about is him, your boyfriend, and in a matter of seconds your clothes are off as well, and you sink into the mattress as Tom throws you down on your bed. Your eyes open briefly, to see him study the contours of your body and, even as you do give into Tom and your desire, the haste is still on your mind. 

With determination etched into you, you drag him to you with the tie and capture his lips in yours. There is no limit to what this man does to you, and there is no limit to what you let him. 

--

With the already extra time you used with Tom, you didn’t have the time to shower. You’d tried your best to fix your hair and do something extra with your make-up, but Tom didn’t have it in him to let you dress and time was wasted. 

Evans and Mackie pick you up outside your apartment complex in Evans’s car. As you approach, the two of them lean against it, deep in conversation. They barely notice you coming, but when they do, both give appreciative looks. 

“Looking good,” says Mackie, eyes travelling up and down your body. Evans remains quiet, the way his eyes dance over you the only comment you get (and you have to admit, you’re not really complaining.) 

You’d opted for something nice, but nothing too much. A skirt that stops mid-thigh, knee high boots with a thick heel, and a slightly revealing shirt. (You’d also opted for a thigh holster so that you could still bring your gun. 

“You’re wearing that.” It’s more a statement than a question from the naked man resting on your bed. 

You nod, and glance his way. “Problem?”

Tom’s eyes graze over you, hunger evident in them. “I would certainly like to take it off.” 

You lift the hem of your skirt, revealing the thigh holster with your gun. “This too?”

“Yes, and right now.”)

In your hand, you have a clutch and you’re also wearing a coat to keep some warmth in the cool evening air. “Shall we go?” you ask. 

And the two men both get off from where they’re leaning against the car. Mackie easily offers up the passenger’s seat to you, even though whenever it's him and Evans fighting over it, it’s first come first serve. You smile a thanks and then you’re on your way. 

Evans parks a few blocks away from the bar (his expensive Audi with tinted windows certainly drags some attention), and you use the walk there to go through the course of action. 

“Mackie’s the cop-cop. He’ll talk to Luke Evans, try something else. We try to talk to some of the people there. Whether that’s as a cop or not, I don’t really care. All we really need is a lead. If anyone sees any of Hiddleston’s associates, please alert the others.” 

The two nod. “Sure, but before we go in there, you have to fix your hair.” 

You raise your brow at Mackie. “Excuse me?”

“You got sex hair.” He gives you a ‘sorry’ smile and a shrug. “Like, we’re not judging you for having it, but if you’d told us you had a visitor we would’ve waited to come to give you more time.”

“Fuck.” You shake your head and stop. “One, help me fix my hair. Two, I wasn’t planning on it. I was ambushed.” Something that isn’t really that far fetched, it’s not like you knew Tom would be there when you came home.

Evans stops in front of you and asks with his face if he can help, and you nod. His hands move to brush a little through your hair, and fix a little on what probably stands out. 

“How could you get ambushed?” asks Mackie. 

You roll your eyes. “I got home, there were some clothes lying around, I followed the trail to a naked man in my bed and seeing as it’s the guy I’m currently seeing it wasn’t a bad sight. I tried to tell him I didn’t have the time, but he can be quite persuasive.”

As you talk, Evans tugs a little harshly on your hair and you let out a pained sound. He apologizes, but continues to try and fix your hair. 

Mackie shrugs. “How long have you been seeing him?”

You shrug. “Few months.” 

“How many months are a few?” asks Evans, his hands letting go of your hair and an approving smile on his face. He steps away to get Mackie’s blessing and the man nods affirmative. 

“Uhh, six.” 

Both Mackie and Evans stare wide-eyed at you. 

“You’ve been dating a dude for six months and not told anyone?!” If you didn’t know better (and you’re not always sure you do), you’d think there was a layer of accusation in Mackie’s voice, but you don’t believe there is. 

You shrug and begin to walk again. “What does it matter? It’s not like there’s a need to know about those things.”

“I thought we were friends.” Mackie shakes his head, a small friendly glare sent your way. 

“What made you think that?” you ask, but the same friendly feel to your words as there was to his glare. “But can we let it go? I don’t want to talk about my private life.”

Evans nods. “We’re here anyways.”

And you sure are. You look up to see the blinking neon sign of the bar. The bass from the music drifts to where you stand by the door, and with a quick glance inside, you can see it’s fuller than you expected for there to be another work day of the week left. Though you do notice the age of the people; it's possible the college kids don't have class tomorrow, or don’t care. 

The three of you make your way inside, gaining a few glances as you step in, but everyone quickly turns back to their own lives. You give a small sign to the two men you came with and move away from them. 

It’s easy to step up to the bar, and you easily recognize the bartender as the one who was there when you met Tom. You’re guessing he’s Luke Evans, and you take a breath before you signal him for a drink. Hopefully, you won’t be recognized. 

“What can I get you?” he asks. 

“A whiskey, thanks.” 

He pushes away from the counter, and easily grabs a glass and a bottle and pours. When he puts it down in front of you, his gaze lingers. “Have I seen you before?” 

You shake your head. “Has to be somewhere else than here in that case.” 

“First time?” 

You nod. 

“Recommend not drinking a lot. We get some sleazy people in here.”

“I hear you also get crime bosses. This the place to meet the Tom Hiddleston?”

Luke chuckles. “Hon, if you want to meet Tom Hiddleston, I suggest you start being careful what you wish.” He nods to the back of the bar. “Best luck is sitting down in that reserved booth. It’s his usual.”

You cock your head. “He’s coming here today?”

The bartender nods. 

“Ain’t I lucky,” you whisper and smile at him. You easily get away from the counter and make your way to the empty booth in the back. 

Sure enough, a sign reading reserved is placed on the table. Who it’s reserved for doesn’t say, nor is there a time stamp. You make for sliding into it, but a hand grasps your wrist and pulls you away. 

As you fall into the chest of the stranger, you turn your head. The man who you’d seen earlier today is the one holding you back. Up close, you notice bags under his eyes and he reeks of alcohol. You pull away from his grip and raise a brow his way. 

“I wouldn’t sit down there if I were you,” he says, and slides into the same booth he had earlier. 

“Why?”

He shakes his head. “Tom Hiddleston isn’t a man to mess with.”

“And how do you know so much about Tom Hiddleston?”

The man pats the seat next to him. “Sit and I’ll tell you.”

You hesitate, but eventually slide in. You leave room between yourself and the stranger. If anything were to happen, you do have a gun.

“You got any relation to Hiddleston?” you ask (you have to admit, no matter how much you want your boyfriend not to be caught, you wish you knew more about what he did do). 

“Name’s Aaron.” The snitch. 

You motion for him to go on.

“I was hired by him three months ago. He felt the cops were gaining and wanted something, or someone to try and put a stopper to it.” 

“So, Tom Hiddleston hired you to snitch on the cops?” You want to laugh, seeing as you snitch enough for Tom to never know exactly what you know, but enough to cover his tracks. 

Aaron shakes his head. “He hired me to snitch on a cop. A specific one.” 

You frown, sure if he was hired to snitch on you you’d know and he would have recognized you. Perhaps he had. 

“The cop’s here today.” Aaron’s gaze travels into the crowd of people in the bar. You see where he looks. Evans. “His name is Chris Evans.” 

“Why did he want you to spy on him?” 

Aaron shrugs. “He never said. And eventually, I got sick of it. The guy’s obviously not a threat to Hiddleston and his business. Y/N Y/L/N is, but it’s impossible to find out anything about her. Don’t even know what she looks like.”

You try not to let it show that you flinched at the mention of your own name. And you find it weird that he can’t find anything on you. Tom did so, easily. But there’s no need to dwell on that. You glance at Aaron again, unsure how to ask. 

“You say you got sick of it. What did you do? Just stop doing his bidding, or something else?”

A smile colors Aaron’s face. “Snitched to the cops. Left a message. Anonymous, but I gave them a way to contact me for more information.” He shakes his head. “Got contacted today, but never replied. But I saw you here this morning, talking to the bartender.”

You cock your head. That could be an easy way to draw the connection to you as a cop, not necessarily as Y/N Y/L/N, but you had been seen with Mackie, and usually Mackie and Evans were seen with each other. 

“I have a proposition for you,” he says. “One that means getting close to Hiddleston, and that includes spying on him. Mics, cameras, whatever. I need him in jail.”

“I’m gonna have to say no. I was just hoping for a night, a friend of mine told me he was real good in bed.” You shrug. “But if you have angered him, I got told by the bartender that Hiddleston comes in today.”

Aaron smiles. “You’ll have to excuse me, then. I hope you don’t anger him with only the intention of a one night stand. Based on how you look, I’m pretty sure you’re his type.” The male slides out of the booth, downs his drink in one go, and waves goodbye. You watch as he moves to the restrooms, and you roll your eyes when he winks. 

[10.47] you snitch is alive, in the restrooms hiddlestons supposed to come in today

[10.48] evans no snitch in the restrooms, window’s open tho guessing it was the guy that slipped past me just now

[10.48] you guess so mackie u got anything from the bartender

[10.50] mackie that hiddlestons coming in that their deal is just renting of the venue from time to time

[10.50] you well just have to do the best of it then im sitting in his booth so if he comes hell notice

[10.51] evans sure thats a good idea??

[10.51] you would very much like to know why he put someone to spy on you evans snitch was hired to keep tabs, got annoyed he wasnt keeping tabs on me

[10.51] mackie dam i wanna know that too be careful

You look up and meet the gazes of your coworkers. Evans looks uncomfortable, worried almost, judging by the crease between his brows. Mackie gives you a look of understanding and a pair of thumbs up. 

You down your drink, try to cover the hiss as pain sears down your throat, and make to sit down in Tom’s booth. On the way in, you knock over the reserved sign, making it fall to the floor. Now, it’ll look like you didn’t know. 

[10.57] mackie Incoming

The front door opens slowly. Heads turn to look who comes through, and unlike when you arrived with Mackie and Evans, everyone’s eyes stay on the man who weaves his way through the crowd. 

Tom stops by the bar, has a small chat with the bartender and turns his head to look your way. A smirk grazes his lips as your eyes lock, but he quickly turns back to the man he was talking to. 

You swallow. You have to steady your beating heart, have to shove the thought of the night’s previous events to the back of your mind, and kill the deep swirling feeling in your gut at the sight of Tom in that blue fucking suit. God, if there was something Tom Hiddleston was made to do it’s wearing suits.

The blue color suits his very being. It’s tailored to fit him perfectly; long legs encased in blue fabric that shows off his bum, suit jacket that fits his shoulders and back in a way that has you swallow. You can see his broad shoulders and some of the tightness that drags at his muscled arms. What you can’t wait to see, is how well the shirt underneath fits him. You simply can’t wait for him to pull off the jacket. 

Thankfully, you don’t have to wait very long. With two drinks in hand he makes his way up to where you sit. He doesn’t say anything as he places them on the table, nor does he say anything when he pulls up the reserved sign from where it lies on the floor. He places it back on the table, eyes you warily, and sides into the booth. 

Long arms grasp for the drinks. He pulls them in and pushes one to you. “Can you drink, darling? You’re working, right?” 

You take the glass and swirl the liquid around inside it. “I can, actually.” And you take a sip. “But I won’t drink a lot.” 

Tom moves closer to you, knocking his thigh against yours. You take a deep breath at the touch, the only one you can return―Tom flirting with you whilst you work is no news, but it would be quite different if you did the same. “Have you been waiting long, darling?” 

“No, I haven’t. I managed to preoccupy myself.” 

“Oh, can I hear?” 

You shake your head. “What good would you have of that?” you ask. When you get a shrug in return, you roll your eyes and take another sip of the whiskey. “I have a question for you, though.”

Tom cocks a brow. 

“Why did you need someone to spy on Evans?” 

Your heart beats fast as Tom moves even closer, lips coming up to ghost across your cheek. You can see that the two in the crowd of people keeping a close eye on you flinch, but you don’t make a gesture to show any discomfort. “Have you not noticed, love?” 

You push him away by placing a hand on his chest. “Noticed what?” You try to pull your hand back but Tom places his over yours and keeps your touch on him. A small hint of the love he usually offers you shows through the blue of his eyes. 

“The man likes you, darling. A little too much. Can’t have another man try anything with my woman.” Tom’s gaze flickers out to the crowd, and as you follow it, you see how it lands on Evans and how your coworker squirms. “Now, if only I could show him.”

“Tom,” you say, voice bordering on affectionate. His eyes flicker to you in surprise; he’s only ever been Hiddleston in public. “There’s nothing to worry about, and if you try anything, anything at all, you will have a gun to your head.” 

Tom chuckles. “Are you threatening me?” 

“You know where the gun is.” And the hand that travels up and under your skirt, grazing by the thigh holster, has you swallow. You take a deep breath as his hand travels a little further, and the only way to stop him is to grab his hand. “I didn’t say you could check.” You push at him a little, creating more distance between you two (even though you would like to sit close to him). 

“I didn’t think I needed permission, love.” He smirks and you shake your head. 

You smile innocently at him. “Usually you don’t.” You go to slide out of the booth. “Bye, Hiddleston.” 

Tom grabs your arm and pulls you back to his chest. “Have you really made that big a dent in the case of the Blue Sweater?” he whispers in your ear. You writhe in his grasp, but a firm hand turns your head to him and his face draws closer to yours. “Tell me what I need to do to have the lead again, darling. I’ll do anything.” 

And you can’t stop the sound of surprise that escapes you when Tom presses a chaste kiss to your lips. The surprise is so big you only stare wide-eyed at him, not able to kiss him back (and good is that seeing as you’re in public), and when he pulls back, you push away from him and shake your head. 

“You’re an idiot,” you say (no teasing or play in your voice), and then you walk away. You rush out of the bar, feel Evans’s and Mackie’s eyes on you, and when you get out of the front door you lean against the wall. Your heart hammers in your chest. You’re panting, and you can feel the rush of adrenaline making its way through your body. 

You may like to play with fire, letting him flirt and show affection in public, but you wouldn’t ever go this far. You wouldn’t ever think he’d even risk it. 

“Are you okay?” comes a voice from next to you. Evans and Mackie have made it outside, and you push off the wall to start walking to the car. 

“We’re not talking about it,” you say. 

Neither of them make a move to say more, and you can hear them follow after you. Tom might be the worst person in history to be in a secret relationship with. Or maybe the best. You haven’t decided yet. 

--

It’s no surprise to see the people surrounding your desk when you get to work. Your two usual pests sit at their own, and though not a part of the group waiting for you, they shoot you glances as you sit down. 

You try not to glare at the group, but when they all just quietly stare at you, the anger bubbles. “What?” you ask. 

A small murmur goes through them, until your impatient glare becomes too much and one voice squeaks out, “did Tom Hiddleston kiss you?” 

He has more than once, you think. 

You don’t reply, only giving them an unamused look in return. They quickly scatter, and you can hear the chatter that bubbles up amongst them. 

Not only do you not have the patience for stupid pestering (and annoyance at Evans and Mackie for spreading the word), but your morning was the worst in a while. It’s almost become a usual for Tom to sleep over, whether because he falls asleep after sex or if he just wants to cuddle, but when you came home yesterday, there was no Tom. 

And no Tom means no morning cuddles, or a goodbye kiss as you leave out the door. On top of that, he hasn’t texted either. No saying why he didn’t show. No explaining why he risked a kiss in public. 

A text you did get in the morning, was a journalist asking for an interview. Especially interesting was the lack of respect for an ongoing investigation, and the bold way to ask whether or not you were secretly helping Tom not get caught (you want to know how they would even guess it. That’s a pretty bold assumption to make about the lead detective on a case). 

Tired, you rest your elbow on the desk and lay your head in your hand. You massage your forehead slightly, and there’s no mistaking the groan that leaves your lips as your thoughts swirl. 

A knock on your desk pulls you out of it. You look up to see Mackie leaning against it. “You okay?” he asks. 

You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter. We gotta talk about what information we got, though. But I don’t trust… I don’t want to talk out here, so, briefing room in five minutes. I don’t know if Evans heard, but make sure he did.” 

Mackie scrunches his nose slightly and presses his lips together. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Briefing room’s occupied.” 

You curse under your breath and shake your head. “We got a meeting room, that occupied?” 

Mackie shakes his head. “Not that I know.” 

“We’ll meet there.” And as he gives you a thumbs up, you get up from your desk and move to the captain’s office. With a knock and a mumbled ‘come in’ you walk into the room and close the door behind you. 

Cheadle looks up at you. “I heard what happened.” 

You nod. “Yeah, but there’s something else I’m here about.” 

He quirks a brow. “Oh? Important?” 

You pull out your phone, ignore the new message you’ve gotten and find the text from the journalist. You hand the captain your phone. “Got this this morning. I want to know how they got my number, what made them think I’m colluding with the guy I’m trying to catch, and what the hell made them believe I’d ever talk to a news source about an open investigation.” 

“That is weird.” Captain Cheadle hands you back your phone (just in time, too, because a message chimes in from twh). “When you have time, come back in here. I know you’re gonna talk to the guys now, but I’d like for it to be soon. And check if they haven’t gotten the same one.”

“Yes, sir.” You sigh and walk out again. You head for the meeting room and on your way you pull open your text thread with Tom. 

[08.18] twh darling we need to talk i think i have some information you’d like to have

[08.23] you gonna talk about smth else too or just your problem??

[08.23] twh im sorry, darling, i got caught up in work we can talk about both tell me when you have time and ill show up at your flat

[08.23] you tonight, 8 

The reply goes by you as you open the door to the meeting room. Evans and Mackie already sit down, Evans with papers in front of him and Mackie with his phone out on the table. You frown, but sit down across from them. 

“I don’t know who wants to start.” You look between the two men, and when neither say anything, you shrug. “Guess I’ll go then.” You take a deep breath. “Our snitch’s name is Aaron Taylor-Johnson, the man Hiddleston mentioned yesterday when we questioned him about the fire. He isn’t dead because he was in the bar. He says he was hired a few months ago to keep tabs on Evans, but he got sick of it because, according to him, you’re not the threat. On the other hand, I am, but he didn’t know he was talking to me.”

“Did you find out why Hiddleston got him to spy on Evans?” asks Mackie. 

You shake your head. “Hiddleston didn’t answer that. Snitch didn’t know himself, but he said he tried to keep tabs on me, too, only he couldn’t. He didn’t have anything to go on, no information, no way to know what I look like. And I find that interesting. Why would Hiddleston go out of his way to make sure they couldn’t do anything to make me a culprit or anything?” 

“Maybe because Hiddleston has the biggest crush on you?” asks Evans, and there’s no mistaking the hint of spite in his voice as he says so. “Or, he finds you that big enough a threat he can’t have his guys going around doing stuff to hinder you because you’re smart enough to be able to connect it to him?” 

“I hope the last,” you mumble. “But there was definitely something he wasn’t telling me. He seemed to know more than he let on, but I couldn’t push like I usually do because then he’d know. I want to see if we can contact him again, because he knew we tried yesterday without luck.”

“We’ll try, but I don’t think we’re gonna get much either.” Evans nods, and all three of you let out sighs. 

You motion for them to start talking instead. Evans slides you a piece of paper. Not much is on it, but the words are clear. You look up at him. 

“There were some regulars there that have witnessed Hiddleston many times. The man I talked to said that.” Evans coughs. “‘He’s always alone, at least when he sits, but he leaves with men. Never has a girl around him unless they come up to him, hasn’t had one in a long time. Only once did he leave with one. She was pretty, looked rather intimidating, actually. Don’t think it lasted.’ The man also went on to ramble about how after that, Hiddleston hasn’t been seen with a girl. Well, before you.” 

“So he has left with a girl once.” Mackie confirms. “Luke Evans said the same thing. A pretty little thing that edged in on the man unlike no one he’d seen before, and that surprisingly got to leave with him. He’s never seen the woman again, and he found that odd. He doesn’t believe Hiddleston’s got someone in his life, though.” 

You bite your lower lip. “Well, that is something. Any descriptions?” 

Both shake their heads.

“There is one thing I noted, though,” says Mackie. “If Hiddleston does have someone he likes, is with, whatever. He so openly flirts with you that that woman has got to be furious, and he probably wouldn’t have kissed you either. I think the wristband was sent to him, not from him.” 

You nod. “I believe you’re right there.” You know he’s right, but that’s details you’re not sharing. “But I have something more interesting.” You fish your phone out of your pocket (ignore the new messages from Tom) and open up the one you got this morning. 

“What’s going on?” asks Evans as you place your phone in front of them on the table. They read over the text and cast eyes up to you. Something in the look both send, they’ve seen something similar before. 

“Got it this morning.” You snatch your phone back, seeing the almost pop-up about a new text and not risking who it’s from. “I need to know who believes I’m colluding with the enemy.”

Mackie nods as he opens up his own phone and slides it across to you. “We got the same text, though slightly altered. They’re asking if we know anything about you colluding with Hiddleston.”

[06.53] unkown Hi, I’m a reporter from New York Times. I was wondering if there would be released more information pertaining to the Hiddleston case, and what you know about Hiddleston and Detective Y/L/N’s relationship to the man. I heard last night that they kissed, and maybe the reason you haven’t caught him yet is something entirely else than him being good at what he does.

“Fucking hell,” you mutter. You slide Mackie’s phone back to him and let out a loud sigh. 

Things are not looking very bright. 

--

A/N: thats what i have. if you want to, reblog this with a continuation, but please dont steal any of this and act like it’s your own. i worked a lot on this when i still had motivaton but i wanted to at least share it even if i wont finish it, to which im deeply sorry

would always want to know what you guys think... 

[maysbanks]

hold out. (jj maybank)

here it is, the second part to hypersonic missiles ! the response to the first part was absolutely amazing, the support & love in this fandom is incredible & i just wanna say a huge thank you to all of you that take the time to like, reblog & comment, every single one means so much !! gotta admit im not loving this as in it's not my best work and kinda all over the place & half way through writing this i almost scrapped the whole thing to rewrite the full series with an oc bc writing as the reader was starting to get to me lol. but alas here it is & as always i hope u enjoy x

warning: swearing, drug use, underage drinking, violence etc 

summary: after accidentally inserting herself into a treasure hunt with four teenagers, one of which could be considered her 'friend with benefits', y/n grubbs is left to deal with the complications and misfortunes that come along with it - including her ever-growing feelings for said 'friend with benefits'. 

( gif isn't mine! please let me know if it's yours so i can credit you. )

If someone had told you a week before that you would lose your father, get your house raided by two men you had never seen before in your life, make friends with a group of teenagers, embark on a two hundred year old treasure hunt with said teenagers, and be hanging out with JJ Maybank every day and willingly, all in the space of one week; you'd have laughed in their face, asked them what drugs they were on and could you have some, and then laugh in their face again.

But alas, there you were. You still couldn't quite believe it, especially the JJ part. You'd had worries at first, like would the gang really want you involved, did they secretly hate having you around, were they just being nice and letting you in on this because your dad had died? All the doubts swirled in your mind, running around like clock-work, just ticking away constantly in the back of your head. Surprisingly, JJ had been the one you'd gone to about them.

"I just feel guilty," you'd said. It was after a day of riding around in John B's boat and using fancy hotels' WiFi, and 'borrowing' a drone from JJ's dads old workplace. His eyebrows furrowed when he looked at you, confused. "I mean, you guys have been friends for like, forever. And then I just show up and you conveniently find out about John B's dad and the treasure hunt on the same day when I'm there, and it's just like - I don't belong with you guys, it's your thing and I'm just kinda, here." 

"You're part of this just as much as we all are," he'd told you, matter of fact. His body was angled to face you as you sat outside John B's self-proclaimed Chateau, a freshly rolled blunt being passed back and forth between the pair of you. "You need to stop doubting yourself, man. You're apart of us now." 

The words had warmed your heart, an instant smile being spread on your lips as you looked at him through red-rimmed eyes. Underneath the setting sun, he looked almost angelic; his golden hair blowing in the slight breeze, tanned skin exposed due to the heat. You had pretended not to notice the tense of the muscles in his arms whenever your fingers brushed when you passed the juul between yourselves. 

"You're too kind to me, Maybank," you'd grinned, boot-clad foot nudging his knee gently. "If I didn't know you so well I'd have thought you'd have ulterior motives."

"Who says I haven't?" He'd smirked back. You'd just smiled, teeth biting down on the plump skin of your bottom lip before you'd looked away from his burning gaze and focused your attention on anything, anywhere but JJ fucking Maybank.

You got along with the gang amazingly, you couldn't doubt that. Pope was the smartest guy you'd met, sweet and funny and passionate and so certain of what he wanted to do in life. Kiara, or Kie, as you'd come to call her, was very environmentally involved, almost too cool for the guys, you thought. She cared so much about so many things, and she had a great taste in music too. John B was a bit like you, you supposed. Fatherless, on the hunt for answers, things like that - but other than that he was a great guy, the makeshift leader of the little group, a little lost in life, but that was to be understood.

And then there was JJ. You felt most comfortable around the blonde, but that was kinda a given too, due to the fact you'd seen each other in your most vulnerable states that came with having sex rather regularly, something the other members of the gang didn't share. He was a spit-fire, always ready to throw a punch and fire threats at those who deserved it, head-strong and stubborn. But he was more so caring, God he cared so much for his friends, you'd discovered. He would do just about anything for them, whatever position that put him in. JJ put the gang before himself, always. You'd noticed all different types of things about JJ especially, little things you had never taken the time to notice before.

These little discoveries probably came from watching him too much, you'd thought one night. It was a bit of a problem, though you never mentioned it. The unspoken rule amongst the group was No Pogue on Pogue Macking, which basically meant everyone was off limits to each other. You understood the rule, Kie having been the only girl before you'd arrived on the scene amongst three guys, and after becoming apart of the gang you had no choice but to respect it - which also meant that JJ was off limits. But was he technically off limits when you'd already been there, so far past the line on macking with each other?

There was some sort of agreement between the two of you, that in order to make this work; your friendship with the Pogues, the hunt for the Merchant's treasure, that nothing could happen. You'd spoken briefly about it that first day, outside the lighthouse beside the Twinkie (John B's van, you'd learned had a nickname), we're cool, right? Pretend we haven't seen each other naked, conversation. It had been cut short, but it still happened. And the pair of you never mentioned it after that, a few off-handed comments here and there from JJ, but nothing specific. So you assumed yours and JJ's hook ups were off the table, and you had no idea why that had come to bother you so damn much.

On the day following your talk with JJ on John B's porch, he'd invited you to come along with him and Pope as they delivered groceries for Pope's dad, Heyward. You had almost said no, because really, you could probably do with a break from the Maybank boy, all the time spent with him was doing no favours for your little situation of Fighting Attraction While Hunting For Gold. That's what you were putting it down to in your mind anyway, too much time spent with the person you're sleeping with can begin to mess with anyone's head, and hey, maybe it was the fact that you were grieving and JJ was familiar - but you couldn't be doing with all these thoughts anymore.

Despite the angel on your shoulder urging you to turn his offer down, you'd said yes. But that was little to do with JJ and more to do with your mom and your current home situation, which was unbearable, to say the least. Your mother was barely speaking to you, as if she was scared of letting something slip if she did. In return, you shut her out, too. Told her lame excuses and empty lies when you were heading out with the gang, lying through your teeth when she'd asked where you were or where you were going.

Lana Grubbs wasn't a stupid woman, though, and you knew she knew you were up to something. But she hadn't mentioned anything outright yet, and so you hadn't said anything either. The hole your father had left was huge and gaping, evident in both your lives. You hadn't spoken about it yet, and you weren't intending to until she could be completely honest with you. You didn't want to hear anymore lies, and you were already on the path to discovering the full truth. On your own.

Her words echoed in your mind every time you left the house, voice small and gentle as she never failed to say the same thing. "Just be careful." You'd always look over your shoulder, and she'd never look back at you. She hadn't looked at you much at all since your dad had died.

It was after a certain drop-off of groceries, you'd joined JJ in his delivery whilst Pope had docked the boat and gone off to deliver his own, yours and JJ's strides matching as you walked the seemingly never-ending drive of the abnormally large house that loomed over you. The Kook part of the island never ceased to intimidate you, no matter how much you didn't want it to. There was something about it, the people that lived amongst it, that unsettled you whenever you entered it. Figure Eight wasn't somewhere you usually visited other than an odd job you'd picked up, and you were reminded why of that fact as you walked alongside JJ.

"Just think," he breathed, all starry eyed and parted lips as he gazed around the pair of you. "This could all be ours soon."

You snorted, bumping his side with your own. "Don't be melodramatic, JJ,"

"I'm serious!" JJ protested. His sea blue eyes caught yours when he turned his head to look at you head-on. The intensity of his stare almost made you stop in your spot, but you managed to carry on, gulping when his eyes continued to hold yours. "I'm sticking to my earlier statement, right, we're going to move here, and out-rich all these fuckin' Kooks."

"Out-rich?" You raised an eyebrow, lips quirking. "Your grammar is so adequate, Maybank."

"It's a word," JJ insisted, nudging your side with the point of his elbow. "Who the fuck uses words like adequate these days, anyway? I don't even think Mrs. Humphrey knows what that word means."

You laughed at the mention of your shared English teacher, the grey-haired, short, spectacle wearing woman immediately entering your mind. JJ grinned when he heard your laugh, dimples winking in his cheeks.

"Mrs. Humphrey can't even spell Wednesday," you giggled, JJ chuckling along with you as he nodded. "It's a wonder how that woman has been working there for like, eighteen years or something."

Your steps faltered as you neared the door to the house, pace slowing as you both basked in the time spent with each other, though neither of you would admit it. "She was probably a good teacher at first," JJ said thoughtfully, shuffling the groceries in his hands. (You tried not to notice the way his arms looked when he did that, muscles clenching and on full show with his cut-off tank.) "I bet each year another brain cell of hers just like, dies."

"Wouldn't surprise me," you nodded. "Mine would attempting to teach classes full of teenagers," rather dramatically, you shuddered. "Especially if one of those teenagers was JJ Maybank."

"Hey!" JJ shouted, though his grin proved that he found your jab amusing. You laughed along with him, bumping his side once more as you finally landed at the door, watching as he turned to you, expression trying to be serious and failing, rather horribly. "You better watch yourself, Grubbs. I'm serious here, I can be a pretty scary guy if need be, y'know."

You didn't doubt that, of course. You'd seen JJ in action with your own two eyes, you knew what he was capable of. But somehow, stood with you there, on the doorstep of some filthy rich Kook's mansion, groceries in hand, blonde hair shining golden in the sun, sun-kissed skin exposed to your wandering eyes, grin on pink lips; you couldn't imagine JJ Maybank hurting a fly.

"Trust me, I know." You'd said just as he knocked on the door, shooting you one last toothy grin before the door was opened and he was pulled into a conversation with the woman who'd answered it, talking about all things from the weather to the next semester at school. You watched him all the while, smile growing on your lips without your knowledge as you took him in, seemingly in his element as he sweet-talked the middle-aged woman inside the house. When he turned to you suddenly, you startled, broken from your thoughts and caught red-handed staring at him like some freak. He grinned, tongue wetting his pink lips at the same time you internally groaned.

"I was just saying, the groceries," he trailed off as he pointed to the bags in your hands in which you'd forgotten were even there. You let out an 'oh' as you quickly passed the groceries over to the waiting woman, shooting her an apologetic smile as she looked at you knowingly. JJ nodded his head in your direction, speaking once more to the woman, "New guys, huh?"

You glared at him as the woman laughed, perfectly manicured hand reaching beside her and grabbing hold of her purse, pulling a note out with her slender fingers. She held the note out to JJ, who immediately tried to turn it down, insisting there was no need, but the woman was unrelenting - sending a pointed look your way as she told him, "For your troubles, sweetie."

JJ picked the note from her hands, a gracious smile being sent to her as he nodded. "It's been a long day," he sighed heavily and your jaw almost dropped as you resisted the urge to reach out and slap his arm. What a fucker. "Thank you very much, Mrs. Ramirez. I really appreciate it."

The woman, Mrs. Ramirez, as you learned, nodded and waved a hand. "No bother, sweetie," she told him before turning her eyes back to you. You forced a smile as she simply eyed you up and down, before sending an obviously forced one of her own. "And thank you." She said curtly, and you were ready to give her a piece of your mind before JJ was grabbing your arm and dragging you in the direction of where you'd come from, shouting one last thank you over his shoulder as he walked you back towards the boat.

It was when you were a safe distance away that you shook your arm from his hold only to slap him gently on his own as you glowered, glare smouldering as he laughed, throwing his head back as he stumbled beside you.

"You're such an ass," you huffed as you tried to ignore his chuckling, speeding your steps. "I mean, she literally just tipped you a hundred dollars for showing up and smiling, I'm sure if I had a third leg down there I would have got the same treatment too."

"Are you jealous?" JJ asked, having to jog slightly to keep up your hurried pace. His smile was huge and infectious, and you made a point not to meet his stare when he landed next to you in fear of breaking your fake annoyed stance. "Maybe if you weren't too busy checking me out then you could have talked to her, and y'know, make a small fortune yourself."

You scoffed, whirling around and halting him in place. He almost stumbled into you, and you stepped back when his hands landed on your arms to steady himself, shaking his grip off almost immediately. "I wasn't checking you out," you told him, matter of fact.

JJ grinned and ran a hand through his hair as he replied, "Sure you were," he shrugged. You crossed your arms over your chest and glared, biting down on your tongue as you resisted your own smile as he motioned to his body from head to toe. "Not that I can blame you, I mean look at me."

"I've looked, JJ," your voice was low when you said it, a knowing tone to your words. "I've looked, and I've seen it all, in case you forgot."

A low chuckle slipped past his lips. "How could I ever forget?" He asked rhetorically, tongue darting out to wet his chapped lips as you tried not to follow the action with your eyes, and failed, miserably. "Trust me, that image is forever dented in my brain. I think of it, sometimes. Just randomly."

You rolled your eyes. And he's back, _you thought. _He never left, a voice at the back of your head piped up. You ignored them both. "C'mon," you said, already turning on your heel and starting off in the direction of where Pope had docked the boat. "Let's go get these deliveries finished."

The pair of you said nothing more for the rest of the duration of the short walk back, and when the boat was in your sights JJ was off running, more than likely eager to show off his one hundred dollar tip to Pope, as you idled, watching his back as he ran. When you finally landed in the boat, it was silent. You immediately picked up on the tension, heavy in the small space, and shot JJ a confused glance when he looked back at you.

Slowly, you made your way towards where the two boys were up at the front of the boat, Pope situated at the wheel. The dark skinned boy was staring straight ahead, refusing to meet either yours or JJ's eyes. When you looked to the latter, he subtly shrugged a shoulder, letting you know that he had no clue himself what was going on with his best friend.

"Pope?" You questioned softly. "What's wrong?" When there was no answer, you shared another glance with JJ, his concern shining in his blue eyes. You tilted your head as you went to ask him again, but when you did, your eyes caught on to the colour crimson that was slowly streaming down the side of his face. You gasped and JJ startled, chest bumping your shoulder as he tugged the cap from Pope's head, revealing the injury near the top of his head.

"Jesus!" JJ exclaimed when he caught sight of the wound, Pope swatting at his hands that held his hat, pulling it back down once JJ had let go. "What happened?"

"Rafe and Topper jumped me," Pope's voice was slightly wobbly as he informed you both, a tear sliding down his cheek as he recounted, "They said no Pogues on their side of the island."

Your blood began to boil just as JJ demanded, "What are you gonna do?" His own jaw clenched in anger as he looked at his best friend, beaten and bruised in front of him from the hands of some entitled selfish pricks that thought they were better than everyone because they had more money in their pockets. Rafe Cameron was a name that never failed to make you queasy at just the mention of it, and his little gang of followers including Topper Thorton were just as unbearable.

"I have something in mind." Pope spoke, voice and stance determined. And something he did, as he drove to Topper's new boat - and promptly swam over and removed the plug from it, causing the new model to sink into the water as you and JJ watched from Heyward's boat, keeping an eye out for anyone that may have spotted your trio.

And though it was bad, and you knew you probably shouldn't have taken part in such an activity, nor prompted Pope to either; you couldn't deny the rush it gave you as you watched Topper Thorton's boat begin to sink, and maybe it was the fact that you knew that Topper was a Grade A Asshole and deserved it, or maybe it was Pope's own unsure but excitable adrenaline that mixed with your own, or maybe it was just the fact that JJ wrapped his arm around your shoulder without a care in the world as he shouted his support to his friend, squeezing you to his side almost unknowingly, like it was some kind of instinct.

You thought, yeah, it probably was, as you immediately felt the loss of it when he moved to grab Pope in a hug. And then you thought, well shit.

There was a mutual share of disappointment when the gang had found just about absolutely nothing when you'd taken Pope's fathers boat out the next morning, drone ready and in hand to go hunt for the gold, where John B Routledge had marked down on the map it having been.

Granted, the Royal Merchant was there. It was just missing the one thing they were after - the gold was nowhere in sight, and the journey had been a complete waste of time. You thought it to be too good to be true, of course it had to be. Four hundred million in gold and you were expected to find it? There was no way, you thought bitterly as JJ steered the gang back to land, not one of you daring to speak as the disappointment crashed over you all in huge waves.

You'd departed with the guys not long after that, after promising Kie that you would accompany her to the annual summer movie night, making your way towards home. The bitter frustration ate away at your insides, you were mad, angry - fucking infuriated, each step the gang got closer to finding the gold, it was as if someone was stood in your path and shoving you all back another ten.

Had your dad really died for this? This seemingly never-ending hunt for promised gold that, for all you knew, could be complete and utter bullshit. You didn't understand it at first, when the pieces began to slot together, but it was like every time the chase got harder it made you want it even more; and then you understood your fathers fascination and Big John Routledge's obsession. This gold meant everything to you and the gang, and you knew, John B especially, would never give up on this chase.

"Hey, sweetheart," your mother called when you entered the house. The front door was still broken, only the screen in place, and was leaning against the wall as you maneuvered past it. Lana was sat at the couch, and when you walked in she'd shoved a box away from her, the lid laying haphazardly over the top. "I wasn't expecting you home so early."

You shot her a small and forced smile, shuffling your bag from your shoulder and onto the floor, landing with a soft thud. "Hey mom," you greeted back, noting her teary eyes and flushed cheeks. "What're you doing?"

When you arrived at the back of the couch, looking over her shoulder, you immediately recognised the box - Family Photos! _written atop _the cardboard.

"I was just looking through some old pictures," she told you, sniffling as she attempted to smile at you. "Just wanted to see his face again."

You nodded, your throat tightening at the mention of your dad. Reaching a hand up and wiping away her tears, she looked at you questioning, "Where have you been?"

"Just out," you said, bluntly and unconvincing. "Doing a few jobs here and there, y'know. Nothing exciting."

Lana hummed, quirking an eyebrow at you. "Mr. Phelps told me that he seen you with that Maybank kid the other day," she informed, your face falling for a millisecond as her words sunk in. She looked at you, tear-stained face and serious gaze, lips pulled to a thin line. "I told you to stay from those guys, Y/N."

"I was helping him deliver groceries, mom," you deadpanned - which wasn't exactly a lie, if that's when Mr. Phelps had spotted you. Most of your time spent with the gang was mainly off the land and away from prying eyes, whether that be on a boat or the Chateau, so you knew that was the safest bet of when you'd been spotted. "For Heyward's. It's not like I'm hanging out with him on purpose."

Lie, lie, lie. It was becoming alarmingly easy to lie straight through your teeth, and to your mother nonetheless, but you couldn't dare tell her anything, and why should you, when she hadn't told you anything? It took two to Tango, you thought.

"I just don't want you getting hurt," your mother reminded, and you let out a sigh as you nodded, faked closed-mouth smile on your lips. "I'm serious, Y/N, please just be careful out there."

"Always am," you promised (bull-fucking-shit). You turned on your heel, heading towards your room as you called over your shoulder, "I got invited out tonight, by the way. To the movie thing on the North Side. Is it alright if I go, please?"

You waited at your door, hearing your mother sigh from the couch. "Yes, you can go." You smiled, this one more real than all the rest, and thanked her gently. She didn't look back at you though, and the familiar unspoken tension was back with vengeance. You couldn't wait to get out of it.

The movie night was a welcome distraction from your frustrations with the treasure hunt, the haunting memories of your dad, and the tension with your mom. It was only you, Kie, Pope and JJ that attended - John B having seemingly disappeared for the day, none of the gang having heard from him. You'd managed to leave the house with relatively no questioning from your mom, and met JJ a little way down the block.

("Woah, keep two feet away from me please," you'd joked, halting in your tracks as you spotted him standing there. He'd furrowed his brows at you, frown etched on his face. "My cover's been blown, everyone knows about us!

He just looked even more confused, eyes squinting down at you as you raised a hand and layed it across your forehead dramatically. "What'd you mean?" He questioned, eyes darting around, seemingly searching for answers in the air around you both. "What, do people know we sleep together or something?"

You'd rolled your eyes, shoving him gently when you were close enough, beginning to walk away. "No, you doof," you chuckled. "Mr. Phelps ratted me out to my mom, told her that he saw us together the other day. I had to tell her that we were just delivering groceries for Pope's dad."

"Ah," JJ nodded, shooting you a mischievous grin. "We better go into hiding then, I'm thinking... log cabin in the mountains, all fur sheets and deer heads on the walls, ooh a hot tub too."

You laughed, "Trying to whisk me away there, Maybank?"

You were joking, but his eyes were surprisingly serious as he looked at you. "Always, Grubbs.")

The field was already packed full of people by the time the four of you arrived, groups of people scattered around, idle chatter filling the air. It was being held on the Kook side of the island, and your eyes swooped over the people, most of them being Kook's themselves, expensive clothing and an aura that just screamed, I'm better than you. It made you feel uneasy, but you tried not to think about it as Kiara led you through the crowds.

"I'm so glad they're still doing this," she tells you all, sighing happily. The faces of the guys revealed they were not nearly as happy to be there as she was, while you were simply just glad to be out of your house once again. "Keep calm, carry on. Back to normal, OBX life, y'know?" She stopped once she found a decent spot, turning to the three of you. "Aren't you guys glad I made you come?"

"Ecstatic." Pope deadpanned, sarcastic lull to his tone.

"My couch was pretty comfy." JJ piped up.

"I'm just happy to be out the house, I guess." You said.

You were aware why the guys were so uncertain about being there; it wasn't so long ago that Pope was sinking Topper Thorton's boat, you and JJ accompanying, and now you were all on his side of the island. Not only that, but you knew that if Topper was to discover that it was Pope who'd done his boat in, it wouldn't just be Topper that confronted him - it would be the full Happy Days Gang. Nothing was ever a fair game when it came to Kooks.

Kiara excused herself to go buy soda's from the conession stand, and you shifted as you seated yourself on the blanket you'd bought, having opted out of bringing a chair. You sat in front of JJ, his legs touching your back.

"What's wrong with you guys?" You turned your head when Pope and JJ began to whisper, the former's panicked eyes landing on you as you frowned at the pair.

"Topper and Rafe are on my ass," Pope revealed. "They know I sunk Topper's boat."

You sighed heavily, muttering a shit as JJ grabbed his friend by the arm, focusing his attention towards him. "They can't prove it, okay. Just deny, deny, deny."

Pope nodded along, muttering along with him as you watched the pair, before your eyes moved to Kie that arrived back, her eyes narrowing as she seated herself beside Pope. "Just saw Rafe," she informed, your blood running cold. You could practically feel JJ tense from behind you. "He said, and I quote, 'Tell your boy we know what he did'. What is that?"

"Um, where is he?" JJ questioned, his tone of voice revealing his hidden anxiety.

"Right there." Kiara nodded her head, right in the direction of where Rafe Cameron and his goons sat, as you, Pope and JJ whipped around, Pope practically turning his full body in their direction. You groaned as JJ desperately urged him to turn back round, and away from their taunting eyes.

"The whole death squad!" Pope exclaimed, anxiety riding off of him in waves.

"Don't stare, bro," JJ urged, hand wrapping around Pope's shoulders. You tuned out the rest of the blonde's words as he informed you all that he'd be coming out swinging if they were to corner him, and you felt dread build as you heard his last words. "If that doesn't work, I got this right here." He patted his bag.

"JJ, please tell me you did not bring a gun here," Kie practically begged. "JJ, there are kids!"

You focused your attention straight ahead of you as the guys continued to argue; Pope simply telling Kie that it might go down to her line of questioning, her brown eyes darting back and forth between you all. You refused to meet her eyes, however, and were glad when the large screen ahead of you suddenly lit up. "Oh, look," you exclaimed, laughing nervously. "The movie's starting."

And it was left at that - JJ whispering deny, deny, deny to Pope once more before you all turned your attention to the screen, trying to block out the intruding thoughts of having the knowledge that the gang of Kooks were staring you down, awaiting your next move like a predator would its pray.

All was going fine - the movie was good, everyone's attention on the black and white screen. You tried not to think about Rafe and Topper, or the gold or your dad, and definitely not the feel of JJ's legs either side of you, trapping you into his hold. You let yourself believe that everything would be okay, and then Pope had revealed he needed a piss, and everything had gone to shit.

JJ had accompanied him, and the two had set off behind the screen, hidden away from Rafe's watchful eyes. They hadn't done a good enough job to be discreet though, and you immediately took notice of Rafe, Topper and Kelce making their way towards the opposite side of the screen. You swore, catching Kie's attention as she questioned, "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Looks like that piss break just got a lot more complicated," you said, and realisation dawned on her face. It didn't take the pair of you long to locate the guys, all in various forms of fighting, as you and Kie screamed at them to stop. You grabbed Rafe's arm mid-swing, his fist raised and ready to send a hit to JJ's face from where Kelce had hold of him. "Stop it, you dick!"

You let out a scream as you were sent flying back from his shove, Rafe's blue eyes wild and crazed as he glared down at you. "Stay out of this, Grubbs!" He barked, and without a moments hesitation sent a fist hurling towards JJ's cheek.

Kiara had jumped on Topper's back from the small distance away from you, and you took a moment to ready yourself before hurtling towards Rafe from your crouched position, tackling him to the ground from his knees, effectively stopping his blows. He seemed stunned for a second, staring dazed up at you before he promptly threw you off of him, shoving you to the ground without a care. "Don't fucking touch me," he growled down at you, and you groaned slightly as the wind was knocked from you.

You heard JJ from somewhere above you, shouting insults at Rafe and repeating your name over and over. You lifted yourself from the ground just as Topper puts Pope in a headlock, his tight grip causing the dark skinned boys breath to leave him in choked gasps. You shoved at Rafe's back once more, sending him stumbling forward before he whipped around, hand reaching out and grabbing you by the face, tugging you so you stood nose-to-nose with him.

"I said," he ground out darkly, eyes boring into yours. "Don't fucking touch me."

You were beginning to fear what would come next before a sudden glow caught your eye from the side, the movie screen lighting up in harsh flames. Rafe dropped you, your hands moving to rub over the imprint he'd left, as you looked towards where Kie stood, JJ lighter in hand. Screams of terror echoed from the other side, as people began to flee, and it didn't take long for the three Kooks on your side to follow, sprinting quickly from the scene. Fucking cowards, you thought.

JJ's hands were on you before you could even blink, eyes earnest and worried as they looked over you, your cheeks red from the earlier grip Rafe had on you. "You good?" He asked you, slightly out of breath. You nodded, repeating the question to him. He smiled lightly. "Yeah, yeah. I'm good."

The night had ended promptly there, Kie dropping you off at your respected houses. You'd bid them all a good night, and as quietly as possible made your way into your home, not wanting your mother to see the marks imprinted on your face from Rafe's fingers. Luckily, she'd already been in bed, and it didn't take long for you to crawl into yours, thoughts of the day and a certain blonde running through your mind.

The next morning you'd met the gang (save for John B, who was still seemingly missing) at the Heyward's store; your morning had been spent desperately trying to hide the red marks that Rafe's fingers had left from your mom before she could notice and ground you in your room for the rest of your life. It had a been a success for the most part, and she asked no questions as you left the house, though you took note of her uncertain expression as you bid your goodbyes.

"Have you heard from John B?" You asked Kiara who was working closest to you. You had realised the brunette boy was missing from the group upon your arrival, and you couldn't help the worries in your mind at where he could be or what could have happened to him.

"No, nothing. Have you?" She returned the question, brown eyes meeting yours as you shook your head no, a short sigh falling from her lips. "Neither have the guys. What're you thinking?" Kiara eyed you, gaze suddenly sullen. "Do you think something's happened?"

"I don't know, Kie," you told her because honestly, you didn't. John B had a target on his back, that much was for sure. Son of Big John, once owner of the proclaimed death compass. Your mind thought back to the two men that had raised your home, and chased the guys on more than one occasion, and you couldn't help but think the worst. "I'm sure he's fine, though."

Kiara nodded, though she looked anything but sure. "Yeah, you're probably right." The pair of you continued on with your respected work, JJ's and Pope's voice trailing from somewhere in the store as they talked. "You're working Midsummers, right?"

You groaned, nodding. Kiara laughed at your sour expression. "Oh yeah, second year running. To be honest, I'm surprised they let me work it after last year, my customer service must be better than my right hand hook," you joked, chuckle escaping your lips as you thought back to the Midsummer's party the year before. Your dad had gotten you the gig, because he was a weasel like that - always talking people into getting what he wanted, and what he wanted was the gas bill to be paid, and his face just didn't fit the portfolio to be serving Kook's their drinks at their fancy party, and so it had left left to you to do just that.

The night had ended with Dean Kipp on his ass after his hand had fallen on your ass, and you'd been let off with a warning as the guy clutched his bloody nose and called you everything ranging from psycho bitch to slutty pogue. Your surprise was immense when you were offered a job again this year, and a large amount of the reason you'd said yes was just so you could see the look on his face when he saw you.

"He totally deserved that," Kiara remarked, grinning. You smiled back, the pair of you sharing a laugh as you returned to your work.

For a second, you let your worries wash away as you were pulled into a conversation with the gang, your spirts high for the first time in a while. You were happy, you realised. What had started off as being the worst period of your life was slowly turning into the best, the gang and treasure hunt a blessing in disguise. The four of you shared laughs and joked back and forth as you worked, and you found yourself to be perfectly content.

All that came crashing down when Pope's father entered the shop, police officer trailing behind him. "Hey, Pope! There's someone here to see you."

You stopped dead-on, the rest of the gang halting in their movements as you all stared towards the officer you recognised as Shoupe. "Evening, officer." Pope greeted, gulping.

"I have an arrear warrant for felony destruction of property," Deputy Shoupe approached your group, handing the said warrant to Pope's dad. From beside you, JJ tensed, and when you turned to look at him, his blue eyes glanced down at you, freshly beaten face pulled into an anxious grimace as his jaw clenched. Shoupe had gotten remarkably closer, hands reaching for the handcuffs placed on his belt. "Hands where I can see 'em."

Pope glanced desperately towards JJ, who shook his head quickly, his words, though unspoken, clear as day. Deny, deny, deny. But denying wasn't going to get Pope out of handcuffs, you decided as you stepped forward, tone pleading as you demanded, "Stop, you can't just do this!"

"Out of my way please, Miss Grubbs," Shoupe dismissed you, sounding almost bored as he shoved past you, beginning to handcuff Pope who can do nothing but allow it to happen, his anxious eyes focusing on one spot as reality began to sink in.

"What did he do, Shoupe?" Mr. Heyward questioned in disbelief, watching as his son was getting arrested in front of his very eyes.

"Take a look at the warrant," the cop said simply as he begun to tug Pope out of the store.

It was chaos. Everyone was shouting, demanding answers and hurling insults. JJ is screaming something about somebody paying him, Kiara is in your ear asking what the hell was going on, Mr. Heyward is hurtling questions towards both his son and Shoupe. Passbyers stared at the scene, whispering to each other as they walked by or stopped to watch. Everything blurred together, and you could do nothing but watch the scene unfold in front of you.

Those fucking assholes, you thought. Topper Thorton came to mind, tan skin and bleached ends, million dollar smile and designer clothes. You remembered his wild gaze as he held Pope in a headlock the night before, close to almost killing him. And yet he was off somewhere doing god knows what, probably shopping for a new boat to replace the one he'd lost, not that he probably cared all that much about it in the first place. Rafe Cameron's eyes entered your mind next, and you felt a shudder run through you as you remembered them boring into yours as he held your face frighteningly tight and close to his own.

JJ's voice was suddenly breaking through your stream of thoughts - "It wasn't him!" He was calling out, eyes directed on Shoupe who paused and turned toward him, Pope's face disbelieving from behind him. "It was me."

It sunk in then what JJ was trying to do, and you whirled around from his left, quickly shaking your head as you muttered, "JJ." He ignored you however, and stepped forward towards where the officer was standing, Pope still in his arms.

"He tried to talk me out of it," JJ continued. "But I was mad because he had just been beaten up, I was sick of those assholes from Figure Eight that I lost my shit." He was stood directly in front of Shoupe, almost boot-to-boot. You couldn't see his face from where you were, and you were almost thankful for the fact as you heard him direct his words to Pope, "I can't let you take the fall for what I did. You've got too much to lose."

"JJ, what are you doing?" Pope demanded. His face was confused, just as much in shock as the rest of you. For a second, his eyes leave JJ's and land on yours, a shaky breath leaving your lips as his eyes were practically pleading.

"I'm telling the truth, for once in my goddamn life, I'm gonna tell the truth," JJ announced loudly. "I took his old man's boat, too."

"What the hell?" Mr. Heyward questioned, though nobody paid him any mind. Your gaze was too focused on the unfolding scene of JJ Maybank taking the fall for something he most definitely do, and you could do nothing but watch it happen.

Your heart finally shattered when JJ's last words entered your ears, "He's a good kid. You know where I'm from."

He only looked back once as he was put into the handcuffs that previously held Pope, and that wasn't until he was shoved in the back of the police car and the door was slammed behind him. You walked closer towards it, hand on Pope's back as he watched his best friend get arrested for something he'd done, and you both knew it. When JJ glanced up and out of the window, bruised face clear behind the glass, his sea blue eyes caught yours and then he smiled.

The fucker.

You could only watch helplessly as the police car was driven away and out of sight, Pope throwing his cap down in a fit of anger as he stormed off, his dad calling after him, Kie landing to your right. The dark haired girl wrapped an arm around your shoulders, tugging you to her side gently.

"JJ'll be alright," she told you, voice confident though her face read anything but as she glanced in the direction the car had been driven off. "He always is."

But what, a voice in the back in your head nagged at you, if this time he wasn't?

And then it dawned on you: you actually really, generally, sincerely and whole-heartedly cared about JJ Maybank.

(And the thought scared you more than you would ever like to admit.)

& to the lovely people that asked to be tagged in this, love you all x @ponyboys-sunsets @mysticsthinking @danicarosaline

[mego42]

I 100% agree about wanting more fanfic lists! I honestly think it's the best way to get a variety. Everybody has personal preferences, if someone, who mostly reads long, fluffy au Brio fic, is making recs, they're not likely to mention short, angsty, canon Brio (which is understandable and fair!) so ideally someone else, who does like those, would also do recs. I'm pretty sure I've read or at least tried the vast majority of Brio fics, but the recs often make me re-read the fic and author.

YAAASSSS!!! I mean like, okay, I v much get why people have issues with rec lists, and I def do not by any stretch endorse the idea that recs/rec lists should be considered anything other than one person sharing a think they liked, but to me a lot of the issues (the same fics/authors getting recced, feeling like awesome fics/authors are going unrecognized) can be solved by more reccing, not less. everyone’s got different taste and different stuff they look/read for and I am extremely pro sharing that.

Idk, I think about it like this: in a previous internet life I was a YA book blogger and I lived and died by recs from other bloggers whose taste and preferences I knew. I mean, you know, I’d check out a book bc the premise sounded interesting but literally the first thing I would do was go to Goodreads and look for a handful of people who tended to like the same books I did and see what they were saying about it bc that was the best way to get a good idea of if I wanted to give it a shot. Or, on the flip side, there were some people whose reviews I followed bc I knew we v much did not read for the same things so if they hated a book for X, Y and Z reasons, I was probs going to like it (one thing about book blogging is if you want to keep current, you do not have a lot of time to mess around, snap judgements are key but that’s a whole other thing and idk if it’s even relevant anymore bc that landscape has changed so much). 

ANYWAY, the point is, I got in the habit and now I do the same thing with fic bc, tbh, I don’t have a ton of time to read, esp not when I’m actively writing which, with the exception of the last week or two, I’ve been doing p non-stop since I got here. All of which to say is, I am desperately in favor of fic recs for purely selfish reasons, I need them! Give them to me!!! Please!!!!!

That said, I uh, am v bad at returning the favor and I recognize that (I think I’ve made what? two rec lists for this fandom?) so I will try to do better to live by my own, idek what this is, moving on and here are 10 recs not really thematically linked by anything other than I’ve read them and loved them and don’t think I’ve put any of them on one of my rec lists yet (and if I have, my blog is a trainwreck I cannot be expected to remember what’s on it LET ME LIVE):

The Goodest Boy by EnsignDisaster

There’s a key turning in the lock and Buddy rushes over to greet his Master excited for her to meet his new friends. The door opens and he dances around Master’s feet rejoicing on the fact that she’s made it home. It's been literally forever.

“Hey Buddy what’s wrong? Need to go potty? Need to pee-pee?”

“Nah he’s good we took him out.”

Master does something very unMasterlike, she drops all the food she’d brought in on the ground and screams. It’s a non traditional avant garde type of hello…Buddy loves it. Mostly because while Master taps furiously on her small light box and sits tense in the corner opposite his new friend Buddy can lick up the egg smashed on the hardwood floor.

Buddy! The! Dog! POV! no further explanation necessary. Technically WIP, but it covers the whole pilot in a way that could be read as standalone (THOUGH THAT WOULD V MUCH GIVE ME A SAD though, when did the show forget the Bolands had a dog? so maybe that’s a tragic casualty of canon, idk)

May The Moon’s Silvery Beams by @pynkhues

Emma hums in agreement, and Rio turns her around to sit her on the counter, grabbing one of the older looking boxes of muesli while she kicks her legs out, heels bumping back against the counter, watching him. He gropes around the inside of the box, finally just opting to pull the plastic cereal bag out and peering inside. He can’t quite keep the grin off his face when he sees the wad of cash lining the bottom. This woman kills him, she really does.

Then there’s a little face peering up beside him, trying to peek into the box.

“What is it?” she asks, and he tilts the box sideways so she can see inside.

The upside to not getting here until s3 is that old fic is new to me! Huzzah!! Idk how many of y’all have already read this on but if you haven’t I highkey recommend. Extremely cute take on what if Emma woke up when Rio and came by to collect his/Beth’s/whoever's money during the shutdown. Cannot believe I’m reccing kidfic. Witchcraft!!!!!!

Maybe You’re My Fantasy by ohmisterjapan

He fucking loves the involuntary. It speaks to how he likes to unlock chaos and walk away. He's been called a control freak before and it felt like such a misunderstanding of him - he's all about self control but he doesn't want to control others. It's more that he enjoys revealing to them how little they can control themselves. It's more that he likes to stand still in the eye of someone else's storm and pick coldly through the wreckage.

Another oldie but a goodie. This fic is more like an extended character study (first chapter Rio POV, second chapter Beth) and I LIVE FOR THIS KIND OF SHIT. I really really really love the take on both characters, it really digs in and pulls out some nuances that made me sit and think about my own read of them and I love it.

A Shock Of Blue by mintletters16

“You don’t look very well. Would you… like me to get you a glass of water or something?”

Her voice is low but smooth, laced with a softness that cuts straight though to his core. Strawberry blonde locks fall gently just above the pair of magnets freezing him in place.

He can still feel the chaos tearing through his veins - emanating from the gold plated gun stuffed in his waistband - and suddenly he can’t be here anymore. Can’t meet this wide-eyed gaze that’s been locked on his for the past God-knows-how-long anymore.

Can’t see blue alive and concerned when he just left it cold and void somewhere in oblivion.

She’s looking at him like he’s on the brink of madness. He thinks maybe he is.

Apparently, it’s backlist rec day over here and I’m not sorry. This one is another technical WIP but the chapter works as a standalone (BUT if the author decided to return to it I WOULD NOT BE MAD). It’s a what if Beth and Rio met pre-canon and it works so!!! well!!!! The tension and fascination and build are all *chef’s kiss* plus the writing is gorgeous and lyrical and ugh, I love it.

for a moment we were strangers by openhearts

“We got stuff,” Rio motions with a nod to the backpack Beth hadn’t noticed when they arrived hanging on the back of one of the chairs at the island.

She swallows and turns back to the dishes, realizing Rio apparently means to sleep there , assuming the place isn’t bugged.  Or for some kind of cover story if it is.  She turns and fixes Rio with a narrow-eyed stare, studying his face, the corner of his jaw especially prominent from the angle she’s looking up at him.  He’s methodical about drying each dish and setting it back on the rack, maddeningly ignoring her hard stare, so when he goes to take the next plate from her hands she grips it tightly and gets his attention.

“Hey.”

“What you on about now?” he asks, irritated.

It gets her gut uneasy, how he’s just . . . there, settling in, in ways he never had before, no matter how nonchalantly he would let himself in through her locked doors.  

“This is,” Beth tries, failing, to find words for it, “. . . it’s weird .”

This one takes place post 204 and Rio and Marcus end up spending a long weekend staying with Beth and Emma for reasons (that work, for the record, I’m just not trying to summarize rn) and it’s domestic and cute but honestly my fav part of it is how weirded out Beth is by how easily they slip into sync. The story does an excellent job balancing where they are in canon (uneasy post-sex truce) with a snapshot of what they could be if they got over themselves (HA! as if) and Beth is DEEPLY FREAKED which makes her slow slide into realizing she could maybe sort of kind of oh shit like it/him??? that much more satisfying.

Not So Careful by @bensonstablers

When he doesn’t answer, her eyes go to his but he’s too busy watching the letter opener which is still pressed against the back of his hand. Curiously, Beth runs it up his arm, careful not to press too hard, and smiles a little as he shivers. Pulling her leg up onto the bed, she shuffles closer to him before pressing the tip of the sword to his chest and slowly circling his left nipple with it, being sure not to get too close.

“You ain’t gotta be that careful.”

And when she lifts her eyes to meet his, he’s got that look. The one that always makes a lump form in her throat and for her to fall back into bed with him without a single thought of what they have to do that day. Only thing is, this time they’ve got nothing to do for the rest of the weekend and well, staying in bed the entire time had seemed like an appealing idea so she allows herself to give in a little to that look.

It makes me EXTREMELY SAD that knifeplay ranked so low on the kink survey so I’m gonna need y’all to check out this V V V EXCELLENT example of it and come back and tell me you’re sorry and you voted wrong. I am v reasonable what are you talking about.

love (where it wasn’t supposed to be) by @lilliloves

"You know what I can't stand?" Rio asks, stepping closer. It's a rhetorical question but he pauses for a second and watches Dean sniff, watches a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead, watches him shift on both his feet as he contemplates making a run for it.

"A guy who don’t realize how good he's got it." Rio continues, looking Dean up and down in disgust. "A guy that will literally fuck up a good thing just to get his dick wet."

"Yeah, well I can't stand a guy who can have anyone he wants but chooses the married woman he's not entitled to.” Dean shoots back. "And I really can't stand the fact that you're always in the room with us even when you aren't there."

And who brings him into the room Dean hmmmmm????? Jk, jk (or am I). In this one Rio catches Dean out on the town with another woman (bc of course he is) and tries to call him out but whoops! gets called out himself. I really love the like, idk, undercurrent of wistful regret in this fic. I love Dean straight up calling Rio out on his feelings (spoilers but there’s an exchange right after this one that made me straight up holler), and, you know, obvs I am here for Rio making Dean feel like an ass. 

Hell Is Other People by makemanybraver

Rio: We're in Hell, Elizabeth! If you don't think you belong here, then repent! Don't fuck everyone in the room in hopes that you get to go out!

Beth: Why do I have to repent?!

Rio: Because you did some fucked up shit in your life, Elizabeth! You keep doing fucked up shit here, too! And you think you don't belong here!

Beth [screaming at the top of her lungs]: Because I don't!

This fic is existentially bonkers and I love it. It’s the kind of experimental format/homage/what have you kind of thing that I L O V E. Based on No Exit by Jean-Paul Sartre, Beth, Rio, and Fitzpatrick are stuck together in a room in hell for all eternity. What more do you need, honestly.

Working On Things by odenkirk

Unknown Hold up, Elizabeth. I'm really thinkin about you here.

Beth turned her face into the pillow, effectively suffocating herself for a moment, but thinking it was a good trade off for the way the cool silk of her pillowcase chilled her skin.

She lifted her head to glance at the still sleeping Dean before replying.

Beth I'm thinking about you too. But this can't happen.

She wanted him to know she wanted him, but she also thought that admitting she was already there would save Rio from trying to convince her. She wanted him, but morals had to win just once in a while.

YES this is technically Beth/Dean while also being Beth/Rio BUT it’s also sort of Rio/Dean and I am HERE FOR THE DIVERSITY OF SHIPPING leave me alone who asked you.

Five Times He Knew What She Was Thinking, and One Time He Didn't by JoeyLee

Aight, so tell ‘em I was hittin’ it. Said deliberately blunt, eyes locked on her face the whole time, just to see those blue eyes widen. She looked so shocked that he almost laughed, so he softened it teasingly just to keep her going. Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart, tell ‘em we were makin’ love.

Then he just watched her, just watched her face, just fucking fascinated. Her lips were parted and her eyes were big as saucers, and…there it was. Before she could look away flustered, he watched the thought go through her mind. Him and her together.

He wondered what she was picturing or where. Them in the back seat, her bed, a motel?  Her on top or him from behind or his face between her legs?

Whatever it was, the blush started immediately, and he watched it bloom out from her cheeks to her hair. Then she was tearing her eyes away to gulp a little.  But it didn’t knock her down for long before she was looking back. And then, wait, was she actually asking him how to go about telling a fed they were fucking?

Okay this is another technical WIP but works as a standalone. I am absolutely fucking feral for character POV takes of canon scenes and this is a supremely excellent take on Rio POV of some notable scenes from the pilot through 204. Imo it brilliantly captures Rio’s voice and I love it a lot. 

HEADS UP I am absolute shite at tracking ao3 to tumblr unless people have specifically told me someone’s ao3/tumblr name SO if you recognize any of the non-tumblr authors on please lmk so I can tag them and YES I recognize that I am asking y’all to do things for me throughout this entire post and I’M SORRY OKAY I’M A WHOLE ASS MESS LOVE YOU BYE

[sunrisetune]

for the character asks: All of them /j

But fr, 1 and/or 63 for the three of them?

[Image of Sailor Mercury doing the Anime Shining-Glasses Adjustment (tm) thing].

No but for real, thank you! <3 Referencing this ask meme (link) about RPG characters.

1. why did they choose their class(es)? their subclass(es)? Vive: Family tradition! Both her parents are druids and she was raised in the practiced and the faith. She branched off from them (... forgive the pun) in the first half of her troubled backstory, and took in Tanizah, her badger companion, a couple weeks after she left. Partly bc Vive was lonely for the first time in her life, and partly bc she was good in a fight. Partly bc Tanizah found her and was like, “Well, somebody’s gotta look after this kid” (Vive is twenty-three).

Nim: A fairly straight read from the Undine Adept archetype. (I mean she’s bisexual, of course, but as in straight from the manual.) She loved her community and wanted them to be safe, but knew she could do that better if she had more power, so one night she waded into the ocean until it was over her head and stayed there until the water spoke back. It’s kind of a blunt force way of becoming a druid, but it worked!

Theo: Occupational hazard? Her bardic talents come from poetry and monologues; she was raised in a travelling theatre troupe and once she could help out on the stage or practice for acting roles, she’d done so. She loved the poems and monologues best. Eventually the magic of theatre and storytelling became more literal for her, which helped out a lot with the razzle-dazzling (technical term) and special effects. When she set out on her own with her adventuring friends,, for reasons I absolutely know and have fleshed out,, she got better at fighting with actual weapons but she still very much prefers a battle of wita. (Or throwing wit at someone else and then hiding behind her tall paladin friend. Both maybe.)

-

63. what fight has scared them the most?

Vive: The first one she ever got into with her party. They’d came into her forest to murder some kobolds who’d been making trouble for travelers (the death kind), and Vive had quasi-rescued them by calling off the kobolds, who served the same green dragon as she did for reasons of backstory. (It’d recruited Vive a year-ish earlier by promising to not murder her parents, who were living and roaming elsewhere in the forest, as long as she scouted for it and made sure no one came close enough to disturb its schemes.) If she messed up her attempt to save the party the dragon would’ve been angry, which meant her parents would’ve been in danger, the forest itself might’ve been in danger of getting an acid bath, and her would-be party would be injured or dead. Her party had hard fights after that one but never one with so much of her life, specifically, in peril all at once. One persuasion check! One (1).

Nim and Theo: This is harder because I haven’t actually played either of them /o\ [I can make up a fight from their backstories and then it’ll be canon for them though, ahahA] Nim one time had to save a younger undine and her sibling from a few brine zombies when they swam out to a rock that was a bit too far into the shadowy place, and hadn’t come back at nearly sundown. It wasn’t the first fight Nim had ever gotten into or even the worst one that far, but it was the first time she’d used Surge (one of her Oceans domain powers) and saved two children from drowning. Also where she got the shell bracelet that’s her divine focus for her spells-- the girls’ mother gave it to her as a gift when she got them home.

For Theo, it wasn’t a battle as much as the word-fight between her parents and some of the other actors / stagehands / prop-workers etc and the ringleader of her theatre troupe, right after which the troupe kind of,, dissolved. Creative differences and all that. No one was actually hurt but it was a really big change, which is especially scary when you’re like, twelve. She’s still much happier when she’s surrounded by people who work together.

[halcyon-writings]

More Dante x pregnant so?

 pregnancy woes - dante x reader

a/n: more headcanons also the technical first part of this is somewhere in my masterlist so uh, check there if you wanna read it i guess? (forewarning, that’s one of my older writings so it’s probably bad oop)

warning(s): pregnancy, the reader is still addressed with gender-neutral pronouns but they can still have kids

Now, it’s not as if you two ever had a real discussion about kids one day, biological or otherwise. Sure you both probably thought about it, but it never really came up? And oop, now here you both are,with a baby on the way.

Your lifestyles don’t particularly fit around a baby so there’s a heavy discussion on what to do. Sure he’d be fond of the little one if you guys did keep it but ultimately it’s not his decision to make but his s/o’s. He will respect it regardless. 

Dante tries to keep his easygoing attitude up around you to hide that he’ s more afraid then he lets on. If you want to know you gotta press on about it. He’s afraid because even though the baby wouldn’t fully have demonic heritage (demonic blood? idk) they still have some of his demonic heritage and if you’re fully human, he doesn’t know how it could affect you. It’s not like he could ask his mother either.

Which is another thing that weighs on his mind, you were already targetted by association for knowing him already. But if it became known that one of the Sons of Sparda had a son or daughter or his own? He didn’t want to even think about it, but at times he can’t help but get lost in his thoughts.

You’re just over here trying to put your feet up and relax while dealing with the sudden change in your center of gravity, unbeknownst tp the whole angst he’s got going on. So when he kind of just gravitates towards you and lays his head on your lap, while you’re already feeling a little wack from symptoms and all, you both just take this moment to chill out. If the phone rings, it’s ignored. A client tries to come into the sho? Too bad the door’s locked. 

Honestly if you’re napping, he’s napping with you, and you don’t need blankets either. He’s a natural heater, which is both good and bad depending on the time of year (if it’s summer, you’re already sweaty and do not want to be wrapped in the arms of your human heater. but it’s winter, you’re set for the whole season. There are several pictures of the two of you just napping either on the couch or in bed, which Dante shamelessly gushes over. 

You also somehow end up bonding with Vergil and Nero??? Somehow??? Honestly you’re not sure yourself and at this point, you’re too afraid to ask. Kyrie is a godsend as well bc girl will cook for you and her food is great okay don’t @ me. You may or may not have cried when you ate her cooking once but that was the hormones and you’ve sworn dante to secrecy about it since. Somehow it just feels like everyone coddles you but also doesn’t? Which you appreciate immensely.

You get not being able to do some things but you’re pregnant damn it! You’re used to doing some things and if you need help reaching a mug on a shelf because you can’t reach than that’s no one’s business but your own. (Although when Dante saw you standing on a stack of chairs and other books to help you reach, a few years may have left his lifespan. You did promise him that you’d ask for help to get him off of your back though).

Cravings are a thing, and they may not be as intense as people say they are, you still have them. So sometimes it’s a battle of wills when you want him to go in the middle of the night and get you things from a local 24-hour diner. What can you say? They make a mean burger. This is also when you learn that the sad face works wonders, he also probably knows that you do use it more than you should, but when he has Lady and Trish on his back about it, he complies. 

The closer the due date gets, the more visible the nerves he has are. You don’t know how to feel. For one, you feel like you’re ready to pop, but you see how he is and you hope that he doesn’t pass out come the day your child is born. 

If a demon attacks you oh boy, you’ve never seen Dante so enraged but there’s always a first time for everything. At one point you have to try and stop him yourself because there’s literally nothing to fight anymore, much to the protests of your friends. But you say screw it, your back aches, your feet are swollen and you just want to go home with Dante. 

You pull him close, demonic form and all, regardless of the blood and gore that stains your clothing. You take one of his hands and put it on your stomach, because what the hell, but your method works. He transforms back into the Dante you know, and you give him a look that can both dress him down and build him right back up. 

He looks sheepish and you can’t help but laugh at how messy he actually looks (you’re probably gonna be grossed out later but honestly it might be the exhaustion speaking for you at this point). He hugs you tightly, head in your neck as he inhales and exhales, reassuring himself that you’re okay and that you’re not hurt. 

The moment is tender, and you don’t call him a sap like you want to because honestly? You’re a little shaken too.

And right then and there, your water breaks.

The panicked scrambling is honestly very nromal compared to everything you’ve had to deal with that day. But you refuse to go to a hospital when you’re covered in demon blood (but you also hugged Dante so I mean-).

It works out, someow, because you’re then home eventually, a baby in your arms, and life is alright for now.

[cakesunflower]

pls beta read this 1 scene🥺👉🏼👈🏼

okay hehe a bunch of y’all agreed to give the first scene of the one shot a read & let me know what you think of it. to reiterate, i know it’s just the first scene but i’m not sure if i like the way i wrote Calum even in a scene as brief as this?? mostly bc i’m probably used to writing him as snarky and lowkey moody instead of so approachable as i did in this. but yeah. also,,,,this is hella unedited like i finished writing it and then i posted it here LMAO so don’t judge any mistakes.

i put it under the keep reading tab just so the post doesn’t clog up people’s dashes. thank you in advance, y’all!

The microwave in the teacher’s lounge was sparkling clean, and Odessa took that as good of a sign as any. The one in the high school she’d taught at in Nevada had never been clean, no one ever having the decency to clean up after their mess—and Odessa refused to do it, given that it looked as nasty on her first day there as it did on her last. It was why she always brought cold lunches from home so she wouldn’t be subjected to such filth. But this microwave was spotless, and Odessa had no qualms in placing her small bowl of spinach and chicken pasta to heat up during her lunch break.

As she waited for her food to heat up, Odessa allowed for her gaze to wander around the teacher’s lounge. It was large, bigger than her last, which wasn’t surprising given that she was from a town of barely four thousand people, with square table to eat at, couches, a bulletin board pinned with colorful fliers of latest school events. There was a hum of chatter from the few other teachers who were either on their lunch break or weren’t on cafeteria duty for the current freshman and sophomore lunch period. Large windows that looked out towards the front of the school parking lot allowed for the late morning sunlight to stream in, brightening up the space and bringing Odessa a sort of comfort her old town surrounded by mountains bought her.

“How’s your first day going, Odessa?” She turned to see Mrs. Brewer, the chemistry teacher, approaching her with a kind smile on her face. Mrs. Brewer was older than Odessa—as was most of the staff at the school, truthfully—but she’d been one of the first friendly faces to greet Odessa on her first day earlier that morning.

“Pretty well,” Odessa answered with an honest smile. Technically, it was everyone’s first day, given that it was the first day of the school year. But Odessa was new to the city, so her first day was relatively different than most people’s. With a gentle laugh, she added, “I’m in the same boat as the freshman so we’ve decided we’re in this together.”

Mrs. Brewer chuckled, turning to the counter they stood by to prepare herself a mug of coffee. “Making friends with the freshman—smart.” Odessa smiled, opening the microwave when her food was ready. “Have you met any of the other English teachers yet?”

Odessa hummed thoughtfully. “I’ve met Bridget Donnelly and Justine Greggs.”

Stirring the sugar in her mug, Mrs. Brewer tilted her head as she followed Odessa towards the table. “You haven’t met Calum yet? I’m positive he’s the only other teacher here around your age,” she said with a laugh.

As soon as she sat down on the chair, Odessa’s eyebrows shot up at the name, clicking in her head like a snapping rubber band bringing forth a memory she’d forgotten about. Calum—of course! He was Luke’s friend, who Luke told her about as soon as she’d mentioned the school she’d gotten a job at. Calum was one of Luke’s closest friends, and Luke had informed her that he was the boys soccer coach at the school as well as one of the high school English teachers.

In the haste of moving out of Nevada and to California and preparing for her job as she settled down, the fact had slipped right out of Odessa’s head. She’d never met Calum, but she knew of him because of Luke, who Odessa kept in touch with even after they graduated college and she moved back to Nevada and he remained in California. She saw pictures of Calum on Luke’s social media, knew that Luke was in a band with him and two other guys. What a small world that she ended up with a job at the same school he was at—and yet she had gone almost half of the day without running into him.

“Oh, look—speak of the devil.”

Odessa glanced up at Mrs. Brewer’s words, following her gaze towards the door where she saw a familiar face walk through. Her back straightened as Calum entered, offering a smiling nod to Mr. Engels, the government teacher. Odessa easily recognized him in his pale yellow button down tucked into black jeans, running his fingers through dark brown hair and flexing the muscles on his tattooed arm. She bit the corner of her lip as she watched him make his way towards the bowl of fruit by the stove, deaf to the way her mind was telling her to look away. He was handsome, the yellow shirt downright beautiful against his inked skin, the pictures she’d seen of him not at all doing him justice.

As if feeling her gaze on him, Calum’s dark eyes met hers right as he picked up an apple, and Odessa felt her cheeks warm at being caught but before she could even think to look away, she saw recognition flash across his features. Then, to her surprise, Calum was making his way over with a knowing furrow between dark eyebrows as he asked carefully, “Odessa? Odessa Kline, right?”

Odessa told herself it was just her polite nature that brought her smile, not the slight accent he had when he spoke. She sat up, nodding as she answered with a light laugh, “Yeah, yeah. It’s nice to finally meet you, Calum.”

He grinned then, a smile that brought sharp crinkles to the corners of his soft eyes, and Odessa chalked the flip of her stomach up to her hunger and not the way he instantly pulled up a chair to sit next to her upon confirmation of who she was. His body faced hers, elbow on the table as he played with the red apple in his hand. “Yeah, you too,” Calum laughed, the sound deep and rich and dangerously fluttering something in Odessa’s stomach. “Luke’s told me a lot ’bout you.”

“Same here,” Odessa nodded, feeling a small surge of confidence as she added, “I was gonna try to find you at the end of the day so I could meet you but I guess you beat me to it.”

“Not too disappointed, I hope,” Calum chuckled, making Odessa shake her head in response. She was getting pathetically ahead of herself, but she highly doubted she could be disappointed in meeting him. Not with that smile and voice. Calum’s gaze then flickered over her shoulder and he lifted his chin, charming smile ever present on his face as he greeted, “Afternoon, Mrs. B.”

Mrs. Brewer smiled back before gesturing between the two of them, raising her mug as she asked, “You two already know each other?”

With a shake of her head, Odessa answered, “We’ve got a mutual friend.”

“Good—now you have more than just the freshman on your side,” Mrs. Brewer teased Odessa with a smile before getting up. “Excuse me, I should probably get my lesson plan ready for the afternoon classes.”

She left, leaving just Odessa and Calum sitting at the table, and Odessa faced him once more as he hummed. “Mrs. B’s right—us English teachers gotta stick together.”

Odessa raised an eyebrow, picking up her fork and shooting Calum a smile as he bit into his apple with a sharp crunch. “Against who? The students or the rest of the teachers?”

He swallowed the bite, sharp jaw working as a teasing glint flickered in his dark eyes when he let his gaze briefly wander over to the few teachers in the room. “Both,” he answered with a small smirk once his gaze met Odessa’s, earning a laugh from her. “No, but really,” Calum laughed, lightly slapping the top of the table with his free hand. “You need anythin’, let me know, yeah? Luke’ll throw a fit if I didn’t.”

Twirling the pasta around her fork, Odessa raised an eyebrow at Calum, unable to keep her smile from turning teasing as she asked, “Oh, so you’re only offering because of Luke?”

Calum scoffed lightly, giving a subtle shake of his head. “Any friend of Luke’s is a friend of mine,” he told her, and his kind words had Odessa’s cheeks warming once more. It was totally because of his subtly accented words and not the smile that accompanied them. They both took a bite of their food, and afterwards Calum spoke, “Speaking of Luke—I’m assuming you’re coming to his bar Friday night? Since the party’s for you and all.”

Odessa paused in reached for her water, head turning towards Calum with a raise of her eyebrow and tone falling flat as she asked, “The what’s for who now?”

Calum blinked in mild confusion, eyebrows knitting together as he took in Odessa’s own questioning expression. Then, almost comically, his dark eyes widened in realization and he bared his teeth, hissing as he inhaled sharply through his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut in self exasperation. “Ah, fuck, I don’t think I was ’posed to tell you that,” he groaned, free fist pressing against his forehead as Odessa kept her gaze fixated on him, silently demanding him to further explain. Sitting up, Calum informed, “I mean, it’s not really a party. He’s just having a few people come over to welcome you. You know how Luke’s always lookin’ for a reason to celebrate.”

Odessa’s expression fell at Calum’s words, a small sinking feeling settling in her stomach. “Oh, God,” she huffed, leaning back in the chair and blank gaze falling on her lunch in front of her. “He knows I don’t like being the center of attention.” Odessa glanced at Calum, a half smile curling at her lips before she added, “Except in the classroom.”

He laughed lightly, nodding along and Odessa had a feeling that he may, in some way, relate to her words. When his gaze met hers once more, a warmth that somehow had the power of making her feel at ease despite the news of Luke’s party, Calum lifted his chin. “It won’t be too bad. You should definitely still come.” Then, with a small, boyish smirk and a raise of an eyebrow, Calum added, “We’ll even perform a couple of songs for you.”

Her stomach flipped. She kept telling herself it was because she was still hungry and not because of the crinkles that appeared alongside his kind smile. And despite the warmth in her cheeks, Odessa still said, “How can I say no to that?”

[phillipsgraves]

new year's kiss

presenting my super super late birthday gift for @jmcolt: a small drabble featuring his girl jacey 🥰 i know technically you've already read it i still hope you like it!! i just wanted to do something simple for you bc you've been an amazing friend these past few years 🥺 ily

wc: 1,338

warnings: none

In a town as small as Wayhaven, Bobby didn't see the point of a masquerade party.

He could just about make out everyone beneath their masks, which made the whole thing redundant, but Amelia had been insistent on keeping the tradition alive. He decided he certainly wasn't going to rain on her parade, especially at her own party.

Speaking of her, it appears as the host herself has disappeared somewhere. Interestingly enough, Adam was nowhere to be seen, either. True enough, gatherings such as this wasn't exactly his style, but Bobby had been certain he'd spotted a tall, blonde fellow not too long ago.

Regardless, even without Amelia around, it seems like her party was doing perfectly fine at keeping itself going, some people gathered around in groups while the others were helping themselves to the food. Bobby's feeling a little partial to a drink himself and so he makes his way to the table, where he spots a familiar head of dark hair, face partially covered by her mask. With his best grin, he saunters over.

"Well, hey there, stranger," Bobby remarks, almost a coo as he places a hand on her waist. "Fancy seeing you here."

The girl snorts, and it unmistakably sounds very much like Jacey. "You say that like it's a big coincidence," she says, leaning against his embrace. "Whole town is here, someone's gotta cover it for the paper."

"Oh, c'mon, Jace," Bobby starts, gently squeezing her hip. "It's New Year's Eve, for crying out loud. Worry about work another day, would you?" He gestures over towards the party. "Besides, you don't need the papers to tell you how great of a shindig this is. Amelia's definitely outdone herself this time."

Jacey hums, as she takes a sip from her drink. "That she did," she says, but then she breathes out a sigh. "Can we take these masks off yet? Mine's all itchy."

Bobby hums as he pretends to think about it, looking at his watch. "Mm, not for ten more minutes, baby," he teases before giving her arm a small tap. He moves to lean in and close the distance, but Jacey merely stops him.

"Ah-ah, not for ten more minutes, baby," Jacey echoes, voice teasing. "You can wait a little longer. Kiss me when the clock strikes twelve, huh?"

"Oh, I don't know, Cinderella," Bobby teases, "don't you have a pumpkin to get to at twelve?" He laughs when Jacey merely punches his arm in response.

"Jackass," Jacey says with a laugh of her own. "So, I'm guessing that's a no, then? Mm, alright. Guess I'll just find someone else to kiss." She wriggles out of his embrace and gently pats his cheek. "Be seeing you," she says before trying to walk off.

She doesn't get far, however, when Bobby merely pulls her back in. "Hey, hey, I never said no," he says, grinning at her. "Like you'd wanna kiss anyone else at this party."

Jacey giggles. "Mm, I might. You never know, really."

Bobby rolls his eyes, partially blocked by his mask as he looks at his watch-- the very same one Jacey had gotten him for Christmas. "11:55. Only five more minutes, babe."

Jacey hums, settling back in his arms as they absentmindedly sway to the music. "You figure out what your New Year's resolution is yet?" She asks, drumming her fingers against his bicep.

Bobby lets out a hum of his own. "Be less attractive?" He answers with a snort, gesturing to himself. "I don't think Wayhaven can take much more of this."

Jacey shakes her head with a laugh, smacking his arm again. "Tone it down there, Narcissus. C'mon, I was being serious."

"Really? So was I," Bobby teases, laughing some more when she threatens to hit him again. "Okay, okay. I haven't decided yet," he finally answers, kissing the top of her head. "I guess… I'll try to be nicer?"

He looks down at his watch again. Three minutes left. He gives Jacey a small squeeze, resting his chin on top of her head. "Even if they don't deserve it." They exchange looks, and Jacey knows who exactly 'they' is. She doesn't comment on it. "What about you, then?"

"I figured I'd try not to work so hard this year," Jacey replies, and she only leans into him. "I know how much you worry. But I'm… trying to be better."

"Something we've both got to work on, then."

11:58. Bobby looks up with a slight furrow to his brow-- but it was an expression of determination more than anything.

"Actually, I had another one," he says, holding onto Jacey tighter, as if she'd disappear if he were to let go.

"Two minutes left, baby," Jacey teases. "Let's hear it, then."

Carefully spinning her around so she was facing him, Bobby brushes her hair behind her ear. Even behind the mask, he could still see the curiosity twinkling in Jacey's eyes as she clearly waits for him to continue. He's silent for a few moments, drinking her in.

"I wanna be a better boyfriend." Bobby holds a hand up when it looks like Jacey wants to say something, shaking his head. "I know I've messed up in the past, and uh-- well, considering we've already dated, but…" he sighs softly, taking her hands and squeezing them. "I love you. A lot, Jace. I wanna do better for you."

"Bobby…" Jacey starts, but she doesn't say anything else. Instead, she pulls him back into her arms, nuzzling her. "You're doing just fine. I couldn't ask for a better boyfriend." She looks up at him, then, grinning. "Hey. Do you hear that?" She asks, giggling when Bobby merely raises an eyebrow in confusion. "They're counting down."

Bobby looks around, and surely enough-- he hears the large group up front counting down. "Ah, so they are," he remarks with a chuckle. He looks back at Jacey, then, expression nothing short of adoring. "Happy New Year, baby."

Jacey doesn't think she could look-- or feel as happy as she does now. "Happy New Year," she says, and she can barely hear the people cheering as they ring in the new year when Bobby's right in front of her, pulling her in for a kiss. Finally.

Bobby takes his time with it, carefully angling her face up towards his so he could reach her better. His fingers thread through her hair, pushing it away from her. He gives Jacey's cheek a gentle caress, and when he pulls away she's tempted to tug him back in for more. She grins up at him.

"Okay, now can you please take my mask off? I wasn't kidding when I said it was itchy."

Bobby snorts. "Okay, okay, hold your horses. Remove mine, too, and we'll do it at the same time." He waits for Jacey to reach up for his mask before continuing. "Alright. Three…"

Jacey giggles. "Two."

"One," they say in unison, and Bobby breathes out a mock sigh of relief when he sees Jacey's face. It hadn't been long at all, but-- he's definitely missed the sight of it.

"Oh, thank God it's you," he says, though Jacey can easily hear the teasing in his voice. "Almost thought I kissed the wrong Torres sister for New Year's."

Jacey snorts, gently punching his arm. "Idiot. Like Marina would've let you go that far." A pause. "Or Mason, for that matter." Then, she sighs in relief, gently rubbing her face. "God, finally. My face was screaming."

"Hey, I can't help that I'm so charming," Bobby says, laughing when Jacey hits him again. "In all seriousness, though," he starts, wrapping his arms around her. "I'm glad I have you with me. I'm not letting you go again."

Jacey gives him an adoring look. "Better not, because I'm not giving you a choice."

"No, of course not," Bobby replies, and he leans down, kissing her nose, then her cheeks. "But, let's get out of here, huh?" He suggests, giving her a knowing look. "I've got other ideas on how we can celebrate the New Year's."

Jacey laughs. There was the Bobby she knew and loved. "Pig," she tells him, but she's already halfway out the door with him.

[thanks--for--listening]

Siren Call

okay i’ve been convinced lol so here it is. another BOP fanfic. DinahxHelena but pre-relationship bc thats my fav thing to write. also on ao3

--

It always happened in the quiet moments. The early hours of the morning, when the leftover energy from a mission hadn’t quite disappeared yet. The sleepless nights, when memories clawed their way into her mind and wouldn’t let go until her screams released them. The lazy afternoons, when the radio played softly and melodies she’d almost forgotten danced around her lips. It was only when the world went still that Dinah felt her watching. 

She didn’t remember the first time she noticed it. The staring. Maybe it was because Helena was always watching everything and everyone around them that Dinah didn’t realize how frequently that attention fell on her. How it felt different. Helena looked at the world with suspicion and anger and indifference, but not her. She looked at her with something much softer, something she hadn’t found a name for just yet. No word in her arsenal was deep enough or strong enough to describe it.

Whatever it was, she could feel it now. 

The question she longed to ask sat on her tongue but she forced it to wait. She just wanted a minute, because they were both sitting here, and the silence between them was comfortable and easy and precious. They were all still getting used to this living together thing, but right now, sitting with Helena, both of them done with breakfast but not ready to move on with the day yet, felt like the most familiar thing in the world. It was early enough that the sun had both risen and was still rising, it’s light shining through their window at an angle that, when Helena sat in the kitchen chair in front of her, made her look almost angelic. Dinah gave herself a second to appreciate the view.

“What do you see,” she finally asked, “when you look at me?” 

Helena’s eyes widened, and Dinah couldn’t help but laugh. “I—I don’t—I don’t look at you,” she said, her eyes now uncharacteristically cast towards her lap. Dinah followed her gaze, saw her hands fidget with the hair tie around her wrist. It hadn’t taken her very long to discover that the Helena who showed up during a fight was a completely different person than the Helena who showed up anywhere else. Fight Helena never got nervous, never second-guessed herself. She was all confidence and muscle and focused rage, nothing like the woman in front of her, quiet and awkward and hesitant, avoiding eye contact and twisting a hair tie in her lap over and over again. She didn’t know how she could have two completely different people inside herself, how she found a balance between that. If she found a balance. 

“You look at everyone,” Dinah answered, “but not in the same way.”

“What do you mean?” She didn’t know if it was a genuine question or a way to deflect, but she answered it anyway. 

“You know,” she said, “like Harley. Every time you watch her, you always get confused. Your eyebrows scrunch up right here,” Dinah pointed to the spot on her own forehead, and watched Helena mirror her, “and your eyes get a little squinty.”

“They do?”

Dinah nodded. “And Renee, you always look a little scared of her. Which is crazy, because you could totally beat her in a fight. Don’t tell her I said that,” she added quickly, glancing at the room where Renee was sure to be in bed for at least another two hours, “but you totally could. And yet when you’re with her, there’s always at least one moment where you get so...skittish. It’s like the elephant afraid of the mouse.”

Helena smiled, just barely, and Dinah felt a warmth that the sun couldn’t provide. “I don’t think you’re giving her enough credit,” she said softly. “She could beat me.”

“Oh, she’d make you work for it,” Dinah said, “but when it comes down to it, my money’s on you, Crossbow.” Helena’s smile grew, and she didn’t know if it was because of the sentiment or the nickname. She wished she did, if only so she could keep saying whatever made her look at her like that. “You know,” Dinah continued, “modesty is not something I would have pegged you as having after our first meeting.”

“What, you’re saying saving everyone’s asses didn’t make me seem modest?” 

“Excuse you, that was a team effort.” She joked, and Helena kept smiling, which made her smile, which left them sitting there, smiling at one another underneath the sunlight. “You know what, I take it back,” she said, pretending to look away. “You’re as arrogant as the rest of us.”

“Oh no, I’m heartbroken.” She deadpanned, and Dinah lost it. She didn’t really get it, but somehow everything was funnier when Helena said it. Maybe it was because she didn’t joke around that often. It was as if she didn’t know how to, or didn’t trust herself to be funny, but that only made it more special to Dinah when she did. 

They sat in that feeling for a while, the warmth of getting along. Dinah wanted to keep talking, but there was something about the silence she didn’t want to interrupt yet. So she watched, and she tried to memorize this moment, draw it out and stick it in her pocket so she could look back on it later and remember what it felt like to truly relax.

“Can I tell you something?” Helena said, and even though they were technically in the middle of a conversation, it still caught her by surprise. Helena wasn’t the one to break the silence. She seemed so comfortable in it. She could spend hours without ever making a sound. Dinah didn’t understand it. She knew she wasn’t Harley, who couldn’t stand any moment passing by without making noise, but Dinah still liked to have something to fill the space around her. It was what she was used to. The quiet unnerved her in a way that Helena seemed immune to.

She realized Helena was waiting for a response. She did that a lot. Stuff like rhetorical questions and sarcasm and pop culture references often went right over her head. Harley and Renee liked to poke fun about it, but Dinah secretly found it endearing. It added to her genuity. Made her really easy to trust, despite her inclination for silence. 

Dinah nodded, and Helena kept talking. “You’re why I stayed to fight. That first day.”

“Really?” 

“It was when you took the gun from Cass, when you fought for her. That’s what made me stay.”

“Why?”

“I couldn’t tell,” she said, “with Harley. What her intentions were with the kid. But you — you wanted to keep her safe. I knew it. So if you were in, and you trusted the others enough to fight with you, then I figured I could trust them, too.”

Helena finished her sentence and looked up, almost as if looking for approval. Dinah smiled at her, and she watched as her shoulders relaxed just slightly. 

“Oh, I’m definitely telling Harley that,” she said, and Helena looked almost confused, so she added, “I’ve gotta rub it in her face. She still thinks it was her rousing speech that brought us all together.”

Helena laughed, an occurrence as rare as her starting a conversation. Dinah secretly thought it was partly her fault. She’d come to realize that Helena might have looked at each of them differently, but when she was watching the group all together, it was like she was studying them. Like she was learning how she was supposed to act with them. After their first team-up, when Harley and Cass stole her car, Helena had straight up cackled, but she’d stopped when she saw her and Renee. Something in the way they looked at her made her stop. In the couple months since then, she’d never laughed like that again. 

“Hey,” Helena said, “you never told me how I look at Cass,” and Dinah tried to control her face, she really did, but Helena noticed everything. It was almost annoying, how hard it was to hide around her. She didn’t always get what it meant, but she always saw the emotional stuff. Shifts in mood, tone changes, body language, none of it went unnoticed. She was blind to sarcasm but saw sadness before you even felt it. Dinah watched her process the shift she felt happen, watched her body tense back up again. “Sorry,” She said, even though Dinah knew she didn’t know why she was apologizing, “I—um, I shouldn’t have—“

“No,” she stopped her, “don’t. It’s not you. I just—“ she sighed. “With Cass, I noticed you...you always look a little sad. And I don’t know why.”

Helena gave her a look she couldn’t quite pin down. She almost looked scared, although of what she wasn’t sure. “I don’t want Cass to think she makes me sad,” she said after a minute, her voice so quiet Dinah could barely hear her from across the table. 

“It’s not that obvious,” she said. “It’s just...it’s like you’re seeing two things at once. Like you see her happy, and you look happy, but there’s something in your eyes that sees something else, and that’s what’s sad.”

Ten seconds of agony passed as they sat there, the words lingering between them, before the silence made her too restless. 

“What do I know, though, right?” Dinah said, with a smile that was only mostly forced. “Forget about it. I’m probably just making shit up, or—“

“I think you’re right.” Her voice was soft but the words were loud somehow. Dinah waited. She hoped the silence would do for Helena the opposite of what it did for her. Minutes passed, one right after the other swallowed up by the quiet. Helena didn’t talk like this very often, but when she did, she spoke as if every word mattered, as if each sentence was a puzzle and she had to wait to find the right pieces before she could put it all together. 

Eventually, she found them. “Sometimes, when I see Cass, and I see the life she has, I think...I think that we’re too late.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I think we saved her too late.” She looked up, and Dinah felt like she was staring right through her. “I think about the shit she’s seen already. I think about how we’re all she has, and I think that we’re not enough. I think that she probably wakes up screaming like you do, and I think about whether she’ll always wake up screaming or whether she’ll learn how to stop it, and I think that’s a terrible lesson for a kid to learn, and it makes me so angry but I won’t let her see me angry because I refuse make her life worse. And then I think that makes me really fucking sad.”

Dinah had never heard so many words come out of her mouth at once, each one more heartbreaking than the last. Helena just sat there, eyes wide and breath a little shaky. She could see her hands balled up in fists, could feel the pain rolling off her like waves onto a shore. She could feel the anger in the aftermath, tension in the air so thick she wondered how there was still any oxygen left to breathe, pain so heavy she wondered how Helena walked around every day without shattering under the sheer weight of it all.

Dinah couldn’t stand it. 

“Don’t freak out,” she told her as she stood up, “but I’m going to hug you now, because I don’t know the right thing to say and because I think you need it.”

Dinah walked around the table slowly, part of her waiting for a protest that never came. Helena just sat there, staring straight ahead as if it was the only thing keeping her together. It wasn’t until Dinah placed a hand on her shoulder that she acknowledged she’d left her seat. Dinah reached out her hands, waited for Helena to take them, waited until she’d pulled her up out of her chair, before putting her arms around her. 

Helena just stood there. Dinah had her head against her chest, could feel her heart racing and her body trembling, just slightly. She realized she’d never hugged her before, and she tried to think of the last time someone hugged Helena. Had Harley or Renee? Cass? Any of the men who raised her? Or had she not felt the comfort of familiar arms around her since before she lost her family? The thought made her squeeze tighter. 

She let go after a minute. Helena’s arms never moved from their position at her side, but Dinah didn’t mind. She looked up at her, and she thought she saw tears in her eyes, but it must have been a trick of the light, because she’d never once seen Helena cry. 

“I know talking isn’t really your thing,” Dinah said, “but you know if you ever want to, you can talk to me.”

She turned, walked back to her seat, but stopped when she realized Helena hadn’t moved, was still staring at the place Dinah had stood, as if she saw something that wasn’t there. 

“You alright, H?” She asked hesitantly. 

“I don’t know.” The words came out as a whisper. She looked over, and she wished she had Helena’s skill, because her face was a mosaic of emotions and Dinah couldn’t make out a single one. “Harley says I need therapy.”

Dinah chuckled. “We probably all need therapy. Harley included.”

“Yeah,” She said, but there was something in the way she spoke that made Dinah hesitate. 

“Do you…” She started, not sure if she was crossing a line in asking but also not sure she could just leave the conversation alone. “Is that...something you want to do?”

Helena didn’t say anything for so long Dinah wondered whether she was still here or whether she’d drifted off into her own head, whether she wanted Dinah to come find her and bring her back down to earth. “I don’t want to be angry all the time,” she finally said, her voice soft and strong and tired all at the same time, “but I don’t know how else to be.”

“I get it.” Helena raised her eyebrow at her, just slightly. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m not just saying it,” Dinah sighed, the words coming out without her permission. “When I lost my mom, I spent so much time pissed off at the world. Part of me still is, I guess. It just always felt like if I wasn’t angry, then what happened to her was okay. Like, if I let go of my anger, then I’m letting go of the last thing I have of her.”

Helena was quiet again, and she knew she just had to wait for it, but she was impatient and emotional and desperate to fix what was almost certainly unfixable. “What happens when you do let go?” Helena asked.

Dinah shrugged, tried to keep herself grounded. Psychoanalyzing her traumatic past was not something she’d anticipated doing this morning. “If I figure it out, I’ll let you know.”

Helena just nodded. Neither of them spoke for a while, until the quiet became too much, left too much room for her mind to wander. “How can you stand it?” She blurted out. Helena gave her a confused look, and she elaborated. “So much silence. You never seem phased by it.”

“Growing up, I was taught to meditate. I used to—“ she stopped herself, and Dinah was desperate to know the end of the sentence but knew she couldn’t rush it, had to wait and see how deep the well would go, how much Helena would give her if she showed she was willing to listen. “I didn’t stop hearing it for a while,” she finally said, and she didn’t lower her voice but something in the way she spoke felt different than before. “The shots. The echoes. The screams. But a killer who can’t live in silence will always get caught. So I had to learn. And now,” she shrugged. “Now I don’t mind it.”

Dinah almost didn’t ask, but she didn’t think she’d get another chance. “Do you still hear it?”

Helena sat very still, before nodding ever so slightly. 

“Yeah,” Dinah sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Me, too.”

“I know.” She must have made a face, because Helena hesitantly added, “I hear you when you wake up at night. I used to scream like that, too.”

“Used to?”

“Learning to stop was one of the first things they taught me.”

“And how did they manage to do that?”

Helena looked away, and she felt a pit in her stomach drop. “Ask me anything else,” she said, and Dinah knew it was both a deflection and an invitation, one she wouldn’t let pass on either account. 

“You never answered my first question,” she told her, and Helena glanced back up, and God, there was just something about the way she looked at her that made her brave and bold and desperate in a way she’d never felt before. 

“You’re the one who’s paying attention,” Helena responded. “How do I look at you?”

She wanted to tell her that her face was a language she didn’t quite understand yet, that every movement and shift was sending a message but when it came to her, she just couldn’t read them, or wouldn’t, because she didn’t know whether she saw what was real or what she wanted to see. “I don’t know,” she answered instead. “That’s why I asked.”

Helena was quiet again, but Dinah would wait ages to get an answer. She buried that realization deep into the back of her mind, let it sit there for her to contemplate later. Or never. Never worked, too. 

“When I look at you,” Helena started, and Dinah expected her to look away but instead she stared right at her, “I feel safe. And I haven’t felt safe in a long time.”

Dinah smiled. She didn’t realize how often she did that now. Ever since they started fighting together, ever since they started spending the time in between fights together, she hasn’t felt like she was waiting for the world to fall apart, like being happy wasn’t worth it because it was temporary. She wondered if that meant she was finally living. Not just surviving— living. 

She wanted to tell Helena it had been a long time since she’d felt that way, too, but she didn’t. She had a million things she wanted to tell her, things she’d never told anyone else before, and knowing just how badly she wanted it scared her in a way she couldn’t quite describe. When Helena looked at her, when she spoke, it was like a siren call, and Dinah felt every open every wound and sealed memory beckon to be released. More than anything, she wanted to let them go.

But not today. She knew that both of them had probably already passed their limit for emotional vulnerability for the day (or week), so she left it alone, let the words die on her tongue and silently vowed to give them life again soon. She had time, a realization that didn’t feel as daunting as it used to. The thought kept the smile on her face, even as she stood up. Grabbing both of their plates, she hummed a tune as she walked to the sink and hoped Helena heard her, hoped she knew that the song on her lips was for her and no one else, hoped she recognized it for what it was: a siren call of her own.