#gotta brush the dust off the tag

[basslinegrave]

old man acquired

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Someone New 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You've had a crush on your best friend for years, but you're slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: please enjoy the first chapter!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“No, no, not the pink, red,” you cup your hand over your ear pod, “exactly what it says on the order sheet.” 

Were anyone to see you, sitting in the dirt, with a brush in hand, all alone, they might think you’re a bit out there. You, talking to the air, dusting off a clump of soil, orchestrating your own voice with the bristles. You dip your head as you focus on what the voice in your ear is saying. 

“I’m not trying to be difficult,” you argue, “I put in the order weeks ago. A red bow. I have the receipt– I mean sure, pink or red doesn’t matter to me but it’s not my birthday.” 

“We’ll see what we can do,” the woman relents. It’s not exactly a triumph but as close to as you can hope. If it’s pink, you’ll just have to take the fall. The damn fondant will be devoured by the night’s end anyhow. 

You hang up with a double tap on the ear pod and your playlist resumes. You go back to trying to uncover the shape caked in layers of muck, turning the brush to chip away the rougher bits with the pointed tip. The work is tedious but it has to be. You can’t risk damaging the relic nestled inside. 

The abrupt chiming of your ringtone once more sounds through the bluetooth earpiece. You huff and hit the pod with the heel of your hand. You greet the call with only your name. 

“Are you still on site?” Your boss, Arturo asks. 

“Yep, still here,” you still your hand and twist your arm, pulling back the end of your glove to see your watch, “just a bit longer. You know I have that thing tonight.” 

“Uh, yes, I recall,” he says dully as you hear paper shuffling, “you got time to chat?” 

“Sure,” you keep the cluster of dirt and the brush in one hand and use your other to push yourself to your feet, “I just gotta catalogue this before I finish the day.” 

“Well, I have good news and bad news,” he begins as you carefully walk between the cordoned off patches. The whole place is a maze of where and where not to step. You go into the tent and put down the half uncovered idol. It’s brittle, made of hide and yew, with a bit of bone. “Lucia is pregnant.” 

“Oh? That’s great,” you furrow your brow, wondering what that has to do with you. 

“Means she can’t travel for a while. She’s adverse to long term commitments at the moment so…” 

“So…” you trail off as you label the mound of dirt and make notes for the next day. 

“So, you want her assignment?” 

“Which one?” You peel off your gloves and shake off the excess filth. 

“Norway. It can be a bit dingy but the landscape is nice.” 

“Norway? For how long?” You close up the ledger and tuck it away on the shelf. You pass between the tables of artifacts as you pull out your phone. 

“Could be a while but I figured you never get to go very far. You’ve been pent up in-state for so long, you could use the vacation.” 

“Oh? Well, I…” you scroll through your phone and see the notifications. Emails confirming delivery, messages asking if everything is sorted. “I’d have to think about it…” 

It’s evasion more than indecision. You know you don’t want to go. You can’t go. Your whole life is here. You have an apartment and friends and… Steve. Your best friend.  

“Make sure you do think about it. It’s a great opportunity. Especially for a junior anthropologist. Lucia won’t be on leave forever.” 

“I know. I’ll think about it.” 

You hang up and pluck the earbud out. Ugh, you’re covered in dirt and dust. You don’t have time to go home and shower. You knew you wouldn’t. You have to be at the venue before everyone else. You can change there and try to wash up in the sink. Whatever, no one’s going to be looking at you anyway. It’s Peggy’s night. Yay. 

You lock the fence and tug one last time to make sure it’s secure. You drag your boots across the thinning grass to your car parked on a stretch of gravel. You drop inside and hit start. You connect to the bluetooth and get some tunes going. You buckle your seat belt as you check the mirrors. You’re probably going to have to speed there. 

You back out as the music blares from the speakers. It’s not loud enough to drown out your thoughts. Why did you agree to this? Peggy doesn’t even like you. Oh, but she likes Steve. She is his girlfriend and you are only his best friend. You’re supportive. You keep your mouth shut and smile. 

Ugh. You squeeze the wheel until your knuckles hurt. You know why you offered to help plan the surprise. You’re pathetic but you’re not delusional. It meant you got more time with him. There hasn’t been much of that since Peggy came along, not just the two of you. 

Classic, isn’t it? In love with your best friend. Friends since college. Friends forever, you vowed naively, thinking that forever would never come. Nothing lasts that long, you can only hope to outlast Peggy. 

And if you don’t, maybe this crush will finally run its course. 

💟

Red and white streamers decorate a long table set with trays. There’s a banner over it that reads ‘Happy Birthday, Peggy’, and a stack of gifts already forming in the corner. Guests drift in with anticipation as you hurry around to check off all the items on your list. 

You fix a small vase of flowers, trying to hide the droopy one in the back, and tug a wrinkle out of a tablecloth. You smile and wave at those who are early as you weave between them. You pull out your phone and lean it on the clipboard angle in the crook of your elbow. They’re on their way, okay. Keep it cool. 

As you come to the kitchen door, you nearly collide with someone else. Sam touches your arm gently as he keeps you from tripping backward. You gasp and hug the clipboard with a wobbly grin. 

“Hey,” you greet breathily, “you’re here.” 

You look down at the guest list and check him off. 

“Ah, figured I’d make an appearance,” he kids, “Rogers would take it pretty rough if his best pal wasn’t here.” 

“Please, don’t start that with Bucky again,” you warn as you point the pen in his direction, “the two of you, in fact, are seated separately.” 

“No fun!” He whines dramatically. 

You scrunch your lips at him and peer around. Yes, none of this has been fun. Caterers, servers, tables, space, food! Yes, you were going to check on the cake. Your sole squeaks as you twist sharply and go to slam your hand into the door. 

“Hey,” Sam blocks your way with his arm, “before you disappear, you’re still wearing your boots.” He points to your feet, “in case you’re wondering about the snail trail.” 

He sweeps his finger up in a gesture alluding to your previous path. You glance over at the dirt littered in your stead then down at your dusty boots. You sigh and hang your head back. 

“Fuck!” You snarl. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll find a broom,” he assures you, “while you take a breath. You need it.” 

“I can’t, Sam, they’re already on their way. I still have to get everyone in their place and… quiet,” you scowl, “ugh, this is gonna be so bad. I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

“So… why’d you do it?” He asks as he drags his hand away from the doorframe. You look at him and blink slowly. You shrug. 

“I’m a good friend,” you insist. 

He gives a skeptical hum and nods, “sure are,” he grumbles, “too good, if you ask me.” 

You throw up your hand before turning into the kitchen. You don’t have time to worry about him. Is he jealous that you’re helping Steve so much? Or does he know something else? You don’t let the seed sprout as you nearly cry out at the sight of the cake. 

A pink bow. Jeez. Of course. You check the cake off your list, nearly tearing through the paper. It’s better than nothing, even if Peggy never settles for less than the best. 

There’s no time to complain or send it back. Your phone vibrates again. Five minutes. Your heart is racing. Why? This isn’t even your party. You just want it to be perfect for Steve. You hate to disappoint him. Ever. 

You really shouldn’t care that much but you do. Like so many other things in your life. 

💟

The crowd can't keep quiet. There's a low buzz that ripples through the guests. A wave of anticipation that's spread like a deadly virus. 

You feel a nudge in your side and peek over as Bucky sends Sam a sneer and wriggles in place. Those two never let up. You hiss at them to quit and they look as guilty as a pair of unruly children. 

"He keeps tickling me," Bucky whispers. 

"No, I'm tryna fix his hair, look at this mess," Sam flicks a strand away from Bucky's cheek, "this is a nice event, Buck, not your living room." 

"Both of you," you warn.  

"You're bitching at me when Indiana Jones here brought the dig with her," Bucky mutters. 

You look down. Dammit. You still didn't change out of your boots. You roll your eyes. It's not about you. It's Steve's night. Er, Peggy's.  

You shake out your nerves and shake your head, "you two," you step behind Bucky and insert yourself between the men, "behave." 

"Yes, mom," Sam snickers as Bucky groans and tries to smooth the few shanks that have slipped free of his low ponytail. 

You exhale and give an exasperated look to the door. You really can't handle them on top of everything else. You just want this night to end already. All your hard work and you won't even get to enjoy any of it. 

"Everybody," Natasha hisses as she runs away from the doorway, "they're coming." 

The group quiets, as much as they can, a collective bated breath as you wait and listen. The lull is unbearable as the heat of the bodies around you pricks sweat down your neck and across your scalp. The door begins to open, almost as if in slow motion, and as the guest of honour is revealed, you cry out. 

"SURPRISE!" The eruption of the chorus has your head spinning as Peggy gives a melodramatic swoon, grabbing at Steve's arm as she leans on him heavily. 

She parts only to fan her eyes and squeal. "Oh my god, you guys!"  

She teeters on her heels as people holler happy birthday and her group of girlfriends flutter over to wrap her up in a cacophony of giggles and preening. You smile, a bittersweet twitch in your cheek as you watch her spin back to Steve and pull him into a kiss.  

You're happy for them really, proud to see all your effort come to fruition, but you just feel so hollow. For an instant, you think it should be you right there, gushing in glee over the celebration of another year, with Steve beside you.  

You gulp down the jealousy and wiggle your nose to ward away the tears. That's a stupid thought. If it hasn't happened in more than a decade, it's not going to happen now. 

💟

As the guests disperse into their own conversations, you finally manage to wade through to the happy couple. You approach with a small wave at Steve. He doesn't see you, he's watching Peggy as she chats with Natasha. 

"Hi," you call above the din, "so, you like it?" 

Steve turns to you, confusion stitching his forehead before he registers your questions. He nods and gives a smile, "it's amazing, you did so good!" 

The sparkle in his eyes, the perfect line of his jaw, the way he's looking at you, it makes your heart rend. You tilt your head and dig your toe into the floor bashfully, "thanks. I'm so happy to see it come together." 

"Um, the cake," he brings his index finger up, "I was hoping to bring it out soon." 

"Er, yeah, it's back in the kitchen. About that–" 

"Great," he claps your shoulder and brushes by you, "just gonna put the finishing touches on it." 

"Hm, what do you–" 

He's gone before you can finish your question. You deflate just a little, setting your feet flat as you sway aimlessly. The motion hooks Peggy's attention. You give a sheepish smile as you wring your hands. 

"Oh, uh, just came over to wish you a happy birthday," you chirp, "are you enjoying it?" 

"Ah, I didn't see you here, I thought maybe you were busy…" she gives a pointed look to your boots, "working." 

"Um, yeah, no," you fidget, "always happy to come support you two." 

"Where is Steve?" She gazes past you, shouldering by dismissively, "he was just…." 

Right. You nod and flit away in embarrassment. You can't say you ever got along with Peggy. Where you're accommodating, she's a bit too demanding. Different people, but you don't dislike her. You just don't mesh. Or perhaps it's just that you don't get what Steve sees in her. Especially when you're right there. 

Enough. This isn't about you or your stupid dumb heart. Just smile and go with it. 

The kitchen door swings open, a noise barely discernible above the hue, and the rattling wheels of a cart underline the steady drone. A lull washes over the crowd as they part. You move with the tide and face the sudden divide. 

A hush falls over the room as Steve pushes the cake across the floor. He stops before Peggy as she faces him, another feigned pout of surprise. He grins proudly at her as you stare curiously at the top of the cake. 

"Oh, pink?" She comments on the fondant bow as her eyes flick over to you. She quickly corrects herself an admires the double tiered dessert, "Steve, it's so pretty." 

You know she hates the colour. You recall the one time you wore a pink bow in your hair and she made a similar comment. Cute, she remarked in her roundabout way in her oh so sophisticated accent. 

You manufacture a smile and step closer as Steve beckons to the guest. Tension stills the air, almost paralyzing the crowd. You squint at the heart shaped box perched atop the bow. 

"Is this for me?" Peggy asks if it's not obvious. 

Steve nods, his cheeks tinting pink, as you notice how he wipes his palms on his pants. Peggy delicately takes the box from the pedestal of fondant and your ribs ache from the pounding of your heart. You curl your fingers until your nails dig into your skin as you watch him kneel beside her. 

She doesn't notice as she opens the box on its hinges. Her lips part and she stares at the contents. She looks over at Steve to find him on his knee and she claps her hand over her mouth. Her eyes gleam as she whimpers his name through her fingers. 

The scene hazes behind your tears as you stare wide eyed. Your ears ring as Steve's voice is dulled by your shock. 

"Margaret Elizabeth Carter," Steve's timbre warble just a bit, "will you make me the happiest man on earth?" 

You don't wait for her answer. You already know it. It's the very same you give in every outlandish dream you've ever had of your happy ending. You spin and storm through the crowd, blind with horror and self-pity. 

Surprise! Your whole world is crashing into pieces. 

[theolivetree123]

◇ Yuuki's New Club ◇

Yuuki stared at the poster in their hand. They furrowed their brow as their hand stiffened, trying not to tear the paper in frustration. Their other hand grew sweaty with fear, and the tape in that hand turned damp. Grim, Ace and Deuce simply stared. This nervousness was nothing new from Yuuki.

"Come on, Henchman, just put up the sign already!" Grim yelled causing Yuuki to drop the tape.

Yuuki groaned as they clumsily picked up the tape from the ground. "Ugh, its... it's not that simple for me, Grim! I mean, gosh... in my world, people treated me like a speck of literal dust! It's not unusual for me to not want to but myself out there. Ugh, why did Crowely even allow me to make this stupid club..."

Deuce walked to Yuuki, putting a hand on their shoulder. "Yuuki, if you need us to put up these poster for you, we can. But, just so you know, I think your club will be amazing! Whether people join or not."

Ace lightly pushed Deuce away. "Ugh, don't let them off the hook, Deuce! Yuuki should be able to do this themselves. They shouldn't be relying on us to do stuff for em! Do you remember last week when we had to give an entire presentation because Yuuki was too afraid to go up in front of the class? Or maybe when-"

"Okay! Okay! I get it, Ace..." Yuuki quickly interrupted Ace and then looked at their poster.

☆「Art Club」☆

Founded by Yuuki Kamiyama, Art Club will be for people to not only make art, but research it, learn about its origins, and come to appreciate the work that goes into making a masterpiece.

If you'd like to join, please meet Yuuki in class 1-F tomorrow immediately after school ends.

Yuuki stared at the words. Who would want to join this club? Who would want to join Yuuki? They sighed. "Do you guys think anyone would want to join this club?"

Grim, Ace and Deuce paused for a moment. Then Ace spoke up. "Of course, Yuuki. There's gotta be at least one person in this school who loves art as much as you do. I'm sure of it!"

Deuce smiled. "I agree. You'll surely find people for your club here."

Grim jumped onto Yuuki's shoulder. "Yeah! C'mon Yuuki, you gotta think positive!"

Yuuki sighed again and smiled as they brushed their hair to the side. "I sure hope you guys are right." Then, Yuuki tore a piece of tape and stuck the poster to the lunchroom wall.

"Okay, let's get out of here before I change my mind..." Yuuki quickly turned away from the poster. Ace and Deuce followed.

◇ Welcome to Art Club! ◇

Yuuki has made their very own club! In classroom 1-F, they hold Art Club.

Yuuki would love some new members! Would you be willing to join?

Rules:

Only NRC students can join!

Everyone can participate! Whether you're following me or not.

No NSFW!

You can make fanart, make cards, write fanfics, etc.

Tag me if you choose to make anything for this mini event!

If you choose to make a card, you can use these club card blanks from my good friend, trinket!

I made the club badges below and the classroom background above. Please credit me if you use them! I have made an Art Club badge for every single canon NRC dorm.

Dress Code:

All you have to do is wear your club shirt (a shirt with the club badge on it). That's it! Everything else is up to you.

I will be posting Yuuki's own club card, as well!

◇ Club Members ◇

Yuubeni Chōga - @bunniehunn

That's it!

If you have any questions, please ask me!

Tagging below:

@cheerleaderman @moonyasnow @ashipiko @babyghoul138 @skibidibabygirl @skriblee-ksk @oya-oya-okay @the-rini-rush @twtysevapr @taruruchi @scint1llat3 @screamintoad @bunniehunn @gimmeurmoneyagh @offorestsongs @shinysparklesapphires @beneathsakurashade @gl00myb3arz @fell-e @the-trinket-witch @boopshoops

Let me know if you don't want to be tagged!

[alloftheimagines]

joel miller | left behind

masterlist | taglist | ko-fi

words: 2.9k

warnings: angst, angst, angst. so much angst. ep two spoilers. tess's death. grief. loss. infected stuff. reader is tess's younger sister. age gap. more angst. so much angst. slightly violent reader.

synopsis: in which joel honours a promise he made to tess that means he must force reader to leave your infected sister behind in boston. resentment and a bit of hurt/comfort ensues as you head to frank and bill's.

sibling!tess x reader, reader x joel, little bit of reader x ellie

tags: @sweetbabygirlsworld

“Holy shit. She’s infected.”

You didn’t think the world could fall apart twice, but you look at Tess as Ellie's words settle in and realise you were wrong. Here you are again, losing everything. This time, you don’t know if you can survive. 

“Tess…” you whisper, shaking your head slowly. “No. No. No.” 

Beside you, Joel is deadly still. He looks at your sister with such detachment that you want to scream. This is Tess. Fucking Tess. 

But you know him. You know he’s good at switching off when things get tough. Not like you. You wear your heart on your damn sleeve, and you can’t fucking do this. You look at her again, heart breaking. You feel every tear, every shard slipping through your ribcage. Tess is motionless — resigned. She wears sadness, but no fear. None anybody but you can see, anyway. You grew up with her. You can see the fading light in her eyes in a way the others won’t. 

And you don’t know what to do.

“Let me see it,” Joel orders quietly.

“Joel…” Tess pleads. 

“Show me,” he growls. 

Bitterly, she tears down the collar of her shirt, revealing the infection blossoming across bruised veins. Your knees threaten to buckle, nausea rising in your throat. 

“No.” Tears slip down your cheeks, and you’re already searching the room again for some hint the Fireflies might have left, some sign that it won’t end like this. “No. The girl is a cure. If we can just—”

Tess is saying your name. You’re not listening. If you listen, it will be real. If you listen, you will have to say goodbye to the only family you have left. 

“Joel,” she’s saying now. “This kid… this kid is real, okay? You gotta get her, get them both, to Tommy’s. He’ll know where to go, what to do.”

“No. No, I’m not doing that,” he replies. 

You’re still rattling around, searching old papers and nooks for something, anything; as though you’ll find a miracle in the shadows. 

“If not for the kid then for her.” Tess’s voice rises. You squeeze your eyes shut, your back turned to her. “She needs you, Joel. This is the end of the road for me, but you need to keep going. Promise me."

“I’m not leaving you here!” you shout, throwing the first thing you find against the wall. It smashes to dust. “We’ll find a way out of this, Tess. We always fucking do. Let’s just stop and figure it out!” 

“There is no figuring it out.” Tess marches over to you, gripping your face in her hands. You try so hard to fight it, so hard to stay in denial, but you look at her drawn face and know she’s already half-gone. You know the worry furrowing her brows isn’t for herself, but for you. For what will happen to you now. She practically raised you, toughening you up or else cradling you through the bad nights, never any in between. It made you both strong and so unbearably weak. Not like Joel, who has never let anything touch him. 

You choke on a sob and close your eyes. “Please, Tess. Please. This can’t be it. I need you.”

“I need you. I need you to be safe. I need you to keep going. Please, sweetheart.” She softens, brushing the tears from your eyes. “Please. For me.”

“No—” 

The sound of moans and the shuffling of uneven footsteps interrupt your protest. Joel goes to the window and curses, readying his gun. “Infected. Shit tonne of ‘em. We gotta go.”

You grab Tess’s wrist without thinking. “Come on.”

But she slips out of your grasp, stepping away from all of you. Ellie has tears in her eyes, but she says nothing, looking for the first time not to Tess or Joel, but to you. 

“I can buy you some time, but you have to run. You have to go,” Tess whispers. 

You shake your head again, ferociously this time. “No. No, I’m not leaving. If you stay, I stay.”

She snaps her head away. “Joel. Get her out of here.”

You fight back a bitter scoff, fists curling at your sides — but then hands lock around your arms, nudging you away. “Come on," Joel grunts. "We have to go. Now.”

The betrayal stings. This is fucking Tess. Of all people, he should want to help her. He shouldn’t be giving up on her. 

You snarl, “Fuck you if you think I’m going anywhere!” 

He doesn’t let up, face carved from stone. “We can’t stay,” he hisses, ducking his head to meet your eye. “You want us all to die?” 

“You go! I’m not—”

“Now, Joel!” Tess is yelling. “Get her the fuck out of here now!”

He swears under his breath again and then his arms are like a vice around your waist, your feet lifting from the floor as he drags you away, kicking and screaming. 

“No!” You’re shrieking now, vocal cords ripping apart as you try to reach for your sister. "Tess!"

But she doesn’t reach back. She turns away, and you know with certainty it’s the last time you’ll see her face. 

“Tess, please!” Sobs erupt from you, and you fight harder now, but Joel is too strong, too broad, too heavy-handed to let you go. “Please! Please! Let me go! Let me stay with her! She's my fucking sister, Joel!” 

The fresh air hits you all at once. One moment you’re there, watching your sister get smaller and smaller as infected scratch and rattle the doors, and then you’re back in the rubble of the drab city, the gold dome of Massachusetts State House dwindling. 

And then exploding.

As your feet finally hit the floor and you try to nudge Joel away, the earth cracks with black smoke and you’re thrown to the ground. Joel’s warmth shields you, and you feel Ellie trembling at your side. 

Silence blankets you like ash. It takes a moment for your brain to comprehend it. Any of it. 

You shove Joel to look back at the State House. The building that is no longer a building, just debris and fire. 

The building where your sister was standing not a moment ago. 

“No.” You say the word differently now. Softer. Devastation pierces through it, through you. She’s gone. Tess is gone. 

“Darlin’...” Joel puts his hand on your shoulder and squeezes, and fury sparks through you. 

“You did this!” you scream, hitting his chest again, and again and again. “You took away my choice!” Because the truth is, you would sooner have died in there with Tess than carry on without her. “You took away my fucking sister!” Because he’d gotten her into the jobs, the smuggling. He’d done all of this. 

Joel doesn’t react, barely even budging as you slam into him. His jaw is set, trembling, throat bobbing, and finally he catches your hands and locks his fingers around your wrists. “Look at me.” 

You can’t. You can’t look at him, or anywhere else. You want to vomit. You want to disappear. 

Instead, your chin wobbles and your ribcage opens up and everything pours out of you as you wail. 

He catches you as you sink to the ground, pulling you to his chest, and you’re too weak to push him away now. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into your hair, rocking you gently. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, sweetheart. There was nothing else we could do. Nothing else I could do. But look at me. Please look at me.” He grips your jaw just as Tess had, and you flinch. You hate him. You fist his shirt between your fingers and you want to destroy it, destroy everything around him. 

Except you don’t. He’s all you have left, and the realisation makes you numb. Joel fucking Miller is the only goddamn person you have. 

You do as he asks. You look at him. 

“She bought us time," he says. "We can’t waste it now. Do you understand? We can grieve her later, but right now, we gotta go. We have to get up and keep going. For Tess.”

You hate that he’s right most of all. As you begin to shut down, shock taking over, you look back at the smoking State House and stand. And then you clutch Joel’s collar and bare your teeth. 

Ellie stumbles towards you, eyes round with fear, but you’ve lost the will to care about her presence. You’ve lost everything today.

“Don’t you fucking say her name again,” you snap. “You lost that right. I blame you. I blame you for who she became, who we’ve all become.”

Anguish curls across Joel’s features, but you refuse to feel guilty. You let him go roughly and grab your backpack off the floor, the same one you’d clutched during the outbreak just after you’d watched your parents get savaged by your infected neighbours, Tess dragging you to safety. You’d been thirteen years old, and your sister had gotten you through hell and back, that night and every other one that came after. 

“It shouldn’t have ended like this,” you whisper into the wind, swallowing your own tears. 

It’s the last moment you allow yourself to have, and then you wipe your damp cheeks and glare down at Joel again. 

“Get up. Let’s go.”

He does, looking winded as he rises from his knees to his feet. You allow him to lead the way only because he knows the city, knows his way around, far better than you did. Tess rarely let you do jobs out of the QZ, protective until the bitter fucking end. 

You wish more than anything you could have protected her. 

***

You don’t get the chance to catch your breath again until you get to Bill and Frank’s — which is empty. You never met them yourself, but you know Tess warmed to them, so to find them dead too… it feels like the last piece of good in the world is truly gone. You slump onto their couch still wrapped in numbness as Joel and Ellie gather supplies, reluctant to so much as look at you. Later, you hear them talking about showering, and Ellie thumps up the stairs, leaving the place quiet. You should wash, too. You should eat, drink, prepare for whatever comes next, but you can’t move. Can’t do anything. 

After minutes, or perhaps hours, of silence, Joel kneels in front of you with a plate of food. “You need to eat, darlin'. I know it’s hard, but you have to.”

You hate him calling you that. He never used to call you that. He barely addressed you at all, stubborn, grumpy old man he is. But he’s been family for a long time, and the three of you… 

You got by together. Until now. 

You glance down at the food and your stomach turns. 

“Please,” he whispers, voice cracking. It surprises you, that vulnerability bleeding into his words — and it seems to surprise him too, by the look on his face. You’ve never seen him like this. Not once. 

You take a bite for that alone. It’s dry in your mouth, and you find it hard to swallow, so you push the rest away. He sighs and puts it down on the coffee table, swapping the plate for his flask. You take a swig, whiskey burning like vinegar in your throat. 

“If I talk,” he asks, “will you listen?”

“No,” you answer honestly. “No, I don’t feel much like listenin’, Joel.”

Still, he takes your hand. You glare at your intertwined fingers but make no move to pull away. Perhaps part of you still needs to be coddled, taken care of the way Tess might have.

And maybe you need to know you’re not alone. That he isn’t going to give up on you the way he so easily did with Tess. Which is sick, you know, but you’ve never much been able to help the way you feel about him. The way you have always wanted to peel away his layers and understand him. Tear away his self-hatred, guilt, grief, for whatever horrors he faced before. 

“I didn’t want this. Not for Tess and sure as hell not for you.”

“I told you,” you bit. “I told you not to say her name.”

“I made a promise to her a long time ago.” He continued as though you hadn’t spoken, his brown eyes pleading. “I promised that if something happened to her, I would always protect you. That’s what I did today. I was honouring that promise, and honouring your sister. If you need someone to blame, someone to hate, if that makes it easier, go ahead. But don’t think for a second that this was a choice I wanted to make. I cared about her. I care about you. And even if I have to drag you kickin’ and screamin’, I’m getting you to Wyoming, to Tommy. You and I still have a job to do.” Slowly, as though unsure how you’ll react, he tucks your hair behind your ear. “That kid needs us, but we need her a hell of a lot more if the cure is real. And I… I need you. I need you here with me, safe. I ain’t losing another…”

He bows his head, words thickening.  “I ain’t going back on my promise to Tess, so you can make it difficult as you like. You can never lay your damn eyes on me again. But I’m getting you through this.”

A tear drips down your cheek, your entire body trembling as the sorrow, the grief, finally takes over. 

“Oh, baby,” Joel whispers, voice full of the same loss, the same pain. 

A whimper escapes you as you put your head in your hands. You can’t even hate him now, because you can imagine your martyr of a sister asking Joel to do just that. To protect you above all else. Still, you despise it — despise that your choices were taken away, your voice ignored. 

“I should have been with her,” you say. “She shouldn’t have died alone.”

“She died knowing you were being taken care of.” He squeezes your knee with rough hands. “She died knowing she saved us. It’s the best anyone could’a done. I wish it could have been different.”

“I don’t know how to do this without her,” you admit, because how can you keep it all in? All the love you had for her, all that grief… where will you put it when it’s spilling out of you without warning? 

“That’s something we’ll figure out,” Joel responds. He’s drawing circles into your lower thigh now, the pad of his thumb wearing down your denim jeans slowly. Wearing you down slowly. “You should take a shower then see about finishing your food. That hot water… it’ll help. And I won’t be mad if you use it all before I get my turn.” He offers you a small smile.

But you can’t imagine anything ever helping. You close your eyes, sinking back into the couch. “In a minute. I just need…” You don’t know what you need. If you’re being honest, you need Tess. 

As though knowing it, Joel rises, the couch cushions dipping with his weight beside you. He lets out a soft sigh, fidgeting with his fingers. You feel the weight of his gaze on the side of your face. 

A moment later, he’s draping a blanket over you, and your lids flutter open again in confusion. 

“S’okay,” Joel says. “Get some rest. I’ll wake you when it’s time to go.”

You don’t need to be told twice. But when you try to nod off, you only see Tess burned on the inside of your eyelids. Her face the last time you saw it. The bite. Her pleas for you to go.

You give up quickly, aware Joel is still beside you, unmoving. It isn’t like him to not be moving. 

Rubbing your face, you sit up, pushing the blanket off. “Joel…”

“Hmm?”

“Blaming you... it doesn't make it fucking easier. I understand why you did what you did, even if I don’t like it. But if you ever take away my choice again… I won’t go on with you. I can’t. I know you and Tess still see me… saw me,” you correct with a wince, “as a kid, but I’m not. Not anymore. And I sure as hell ain’t your responsibility.”

“I don’t see you as a kid,” he says quietly. “And I don’t see you as my responsibility, either. Honestly?” He purses his lips, tapping on the arm of the couch before he continues, “I see you as the only damn thing worth going out of my way to protect. Make of that what you will. Just… don’t expect me to let you die if that’s your choice. I can’t do that. I won’t do that. I won’t apologise for it, either.”

You’re not sure what to say to that; what it means. Why Joel, of all people, is the one to say it. You always thought he and Tess… 

“Why? That promise mean so fucking much?”

“Yeah." He looks at you as though for the first time. "Yeah, it does."

You don’t have the energy to wonder what it means anymore. Instead, you pull yourself up on unsteady feet. Your mind is racing, and that shower is sounding better as reality sets in. Just in time, Ellie returns with damp hair and fresh clothes. She offers a small, reassuring smile, and you ruffle her hair, feeling guilty that a fourteen-year-old was subjected to everything you went through in Boston. Whoever she is, whatever purpose people want her to serve… she’s just a kid, and you couldn’t hold it together for her today. That makes you a shitty chaperone.

“My turn,” you mumble, glancing at Joel a final, wary time before heading upstairs. His expression doesn’t change, but you see something new in it now. Something strange. 

Something that looks an awful lot like care.

[nerdgal27]

Story Behind the Painting

Mikey and Me

Summary:

(Part 3), (It Happened Again Part 2), and (Don't Want to Talk).

Wether best friend, family, or in this story's case both. There are times when one would do anything to keep the darkness to protect the light and innocent.

Tags: Depression, Substance Abuse, and Flashbacks.

Mikey and Me

I am not much of a morning person. Would much rather roll in these sheets and hide from the sunshine. Maybe sleep Sunday away. Yeah that sounds wonderful. If a foot wasn’t digging into my back, dammit Mikey. 

Roll from one dead side to the other. Block myself from the brownstone windows. Warm by the sunrise. Breathe in the fresh cool air float, the familiar smell of turtles. Slide my hand out from under the covers. Cold hand in search of warmth. One pinky touches large fingers. The large fingers intertwine mine, drowning my hand in his large palm. Open my eyes, golden yellow rays beam behind me. Between thin lace curtains casts  the bedroom in sunshine and floral shadows. White dust floats in the dry air. 

A mutant turtle sleeps before me. Snug under a mess of covers. Brush the top cover from his head. Unveil, and cascade his green skin in the warm glow. How his soft splash of freckles  mottle his skin. No mask on, nor needed for now. 

From how much he wears his orange mask. I wonder how soft his skin is. In this light, the floral shadows. The most beautiful morning I ever woke up to. One hand drowning in Mikey’s warm hold. Slip a free hand from under the cozy covers. Feel the massive bed head hair under my head. Careful and slow not to wake him. Stroke his sweet face, indulge in curiosity. Soft, delicate, and angelic.Who would ever think someone who eats chewed up gum off of the subway, would feel like this. Caress his cheek, his temple where the mask hides. Enjoy this. 

“Can I stay with you tonight?” 

Past Mikey whispers in my memory from last night. 

The lone turtle then. At my staircase, his fingers fumble each other as his puppy dog eyes ask the same question. His sleeping self now. Fumble fingers, quiet and holding mine now. How can I say no? But eventually questions will need to face reality. 

Can’t stay in this bed forever reality says. I’d say stay in this bed and watch Mikey sleep forever. Oh well. Innocent tight grip on my palm. Deep sleep breathing warms my smile. Lean in so quiet. Can’t resist it, I press my lips on his dear forehead. Watch his cheeks curve a smile even in deep slumber. 

Don’t ever stop being you Mikey. 

Alright. Up I get, much as I don’t want to. Leave the turtle snug in my bed. That is tucked in a brick corner. Don’t have to worry about him rolling off. 

Search through the maze on the bedroom floor. Uniforms from work, socks with no mates. I can relate to them. 

Ah ha! Bright orange fabric burns in the sun. Pull it out from the pile of clothes. A bright orange hoodie. The color that gives me a craving for apricots. Old stains litter the color. Over stretched collar, and sleeves worn by time. A bright white kitten cartoon on the front. Now in the color of creme from the sun. Take the old thing in my hands. Put it on top of the tank top. Gotta grab the collar, take a big whiff. Hmmm, home. Been so long. 

Step into a mix match pair of fuzzy orange and pink socks. To fight against the cold wood floor. Too early to be cold. Leave heaven in the bedroom. Out I go to reality. A small brownstone apartment. Creaky wooden floors, and old paint chips cabinets. Matches my selection of found used furniture. 

“Is everything okay Mikey?” 

My past memory self asks. 

Think back to all of it as I begin the day of making coffee. 

Mikey and I in the kitchen then over a cup of coffee and orange soda. Last thing I needed is a caffeinated Michelangelo at 1 am. 

“You know we can talk about anything.”

Memories dance on in my mind, as I dump the sweet bliss of coffee grinds in the filter. 

Think about everything last night. The dim kitchen lights that I haven’t fixed yet. My best friend for a turtle at the island counter. Bathed in that golden glow. Take a seat next to him. How those heavy eyes look away, deep down in the open soda can. A rare sight for someone who smiles in their sleep. My pinky brushes his. Let those large turtle fingers wrap around my small human hand. Palms rough from 15 years of battle after battle. On quiet nights light these. His thumb strokes my hand ever so gentle. 

“Can we talk about it in the morning? I want to be with you, like old times.” 

The reality me would have told him no and sort this out. Tomorrow is an early work shift. Yet, in the warm light. Bright green complexion is sheet white. His wrists clench quiet shivers his quiet hold. Matches the quiver of his small smile. Think back to his fading faith glimmering in the night. 

Lean in, same as always Mikey dips his head. Lean forward, his forehead meets my lips in the middle. Ease his quiet shivers snuggle into my shoulder for a starved embrace. 

Whisper to him, “Our times will never be old, Mikey, we can talk whenever you're ready.”

Old times. I miss them too. But this is life now. Have an apartment, a job. It’s not the greatest, the boss needs to take a chill vacation. Either way it keeps my apartment lights on. I’m happy about it. 

An old apartment in the warm sun. Create light for my dingy kitchen. Give my hanging plants some needed sunshine. Gonna have to ask Donnie when I can transfer these new herbs to my herb garden. A metal shelf in the living area, about half full of my collection. Hey, if there’s a way I can cut grocery costs in half, I’ll do it. 

Phone vibrates beside the coffee tin. Turn the phone over to see the screen. Speak of the devil. 

9:30 March 28, Donnie: Hey, Sweetheart. 

Just like old times. His nickname for me. 

Me: Mornin to U too Dee, those hangin planters r really workin.” 

Bubbles float on a white and purple screen. Set it on the counter. Press the hot water button to brew the coffee. Let the smooth aroma of rich coffee take me back to when I was little. When this smart turtle used to put coffee in my toddler mug. 

9:35 

Donnie: What’d I tell you, I’m a genius, they shouldn’t be ready to move for another couple weeks.

Me: Thanks genius

Bubbles float on the purple screen again. Boy must be busy working on something. Like that has never happened. Swear, if he didn’t have four brothers to keep him busy. Donnie would turn into a science crazy hermit. The kind that requires warning labels. Least some of us are still home. 

Take a look around my apartment. Squishy in size. Living room has enough size for one couch, one apple box coffee table, and a TV on my black shelf. Empty and quiet. 

9:40 

Donnie: Is Mike with you?

Run back to the kitchen. Fill my mug before the coffee machine drowns itself. 

Me: Yea he is asleep. Did something happen? 

Donnie: No 

Head over to my breakfast nook. Set the hot mug down on the bistro table. 

Me: Dee

Donnie: Nothing happened

Wow that text came fast. Nothing stops the brainiac’s work. Not even me. Not for a while anyway. 

Donnie: He misses you, that’s all, this is a big change

Oh, I see. 

Me: It’s a big change 4 me, when R U going to help me build those plant shelves U told me about?? 

Bubbles float. Hold the mug close in my hands. Inhale the memory of Donnie’s smell. His warmth then. 

Donnie: Soon, Sweetheart, I promise, it will be like old times. 

Bubbles float under Donnie’s message on my phone. A picture pops up. In a slender olive green palm. In a cool computer screen light is a rubik's cube. 

After all these years. He has that old thing. Hope he never throws it away. 

Donnie: I love you Sweetheart. 

Take one strong sip of coffee. Send Donnie one more text. I set the phone back into its place in my pocket. Relax in my chair, look out the large bay windows. Close my eyes to songs of pigeon wings fluttering by. The Mighty River of a city rushes. Feel the warm sunshine wake me. The streets are full of people below. Look back to my kitchen before me. No stove making smoke signals. Not a single orange skewered by a Sai. Nor the clashes and bangs of a family. Yet they say they are ninjas. An old kitchen. Quiet, clean, and bright in the sun. This is my life now. 

Warmth touches my back. No need to turn. Two freckle hands slither out between my arms. Wrap around my midsection. A soft cheek melts into my shoulder. Old life nuzzles me. 

“I’m starving.” 

“Morning starving.” I smirk on his freckle cheek. 

Squish the coffee sloshing inside me, he retorts. “Hey that’s my thing.” 

Take a sip of coffee, “And now it’s mine.” 

Set of arms recoils around me. Leave my shoulder cold. He opens the fridge. 

“No bacon for you then.” His shell faces me. 

Wait a bit for him to dig through. Swish the coffee in the mug.

 I answer his mutter, “And no bacon for anyone.” 

A turtle steps back. Hand clutch onto his plastron chest. Take heavy breaths, he gasps. “You, no bacon? Are you loco homie?!” 

“I know, I’m shocked too, it's been a couple weeks since my last pay cheque.” I answer.

And who knows when my next one will come in. 

“You’re Boss still giving you a hard time?” Mikey closes the fridge. 

An armful of something. Nothing stops him and his empty stomach. 

Get up for the second cup. I pause, stare down at the endless black liquid in the pink coffee mug. See my tired self ripple in the black reflection. 

I answer, “Not anymore, he switches the schedule pretty much to whatever he wants, I’m on casual for now, till something else pops up.” 

“New York, what a place.” 

“Work, what a concept.” 

He holds up my few selection of eggs. I answer his silent question. 

“No, those are normal, they won’t explode powder this time.”

Mikey raises an orange eyeridge, “last time you told me that, I had glitter in my shell for 4 weeks straight.” 

Chuckle at the old memory years ago. To prove him wrong I crack them on the pan for him. 

Murmur in the calm quiet. “See, no ninja smoke, nor glitter.” 

Soft shift of Mikey’s feet squeaks the old hardwood. He snorts, “Or ghost pepper powder ninja smoke bombs.” 

“That was one time.” I snicker. 

“My face still burns.”

“That was for the rubber spiders in my bed, you goon,” I giggle, “I can’t go to bed without checking the covers, because of you.” 

Toaster wires twang. Shake the proof of my old glitter prank out of his shell. 

Mikey chuckles, “Worth it.” 

One more person is here besides me. Another to make noise. Bring more light into the apartment. Hear their feet scuff on wood. Have someone help me clean. It’s nice. 

“Mike?” 

No answer. Place the dry dishes back in their cupboard. 

Dry the next, I ask, “Is everything going okay home- I mean the lair?” 

Freckle hands take the dry plate from me. He turns away. 

“Same as usual.” 

Awe come on buddy, there’s more than that. Toss the towel in the pile of laundry yet to be done. 

Wait for him to turn. Sometimes a look is needed for Mike to talk. This time Mikey doesn’t look. Nose points to the old pink mat. 

“The guys pick on you again? Did Donnie explode anything?” I ask on. 

Nothing. Turtle frame leans on the counter behind him. If only he smiles, the way he always does. Then the sunshine wouldn’t be the only thing that shines. 

Leave the sink. His three finger turtle hands lay dormant. Take his hands. Even now with great effort. Human hand can only hold his fingers. 

“Can we hang out today?” He asks my hand. 

Human thumb strokes the back of his hand. I murmur, “I would love that Mikey, but you have to remember it’s daylight now, and your brothers know where you are.” 

No need to ask who. Answer his quiet question.

“They know you’re safe with me, no one is coming unless you want them to.” 

Please let me see his eyes. Let his hand squeeze mine. Mikey whispers under his breath. “Just want to be with you.” 

Maybe that’s what is needed. No need to rush things. Nor chase anything away. The same way as it always has been. Hand in hand. Close our eyes. Lean forwards our foreheads touch. Warm each other, lean on each other. The apartment is quiet, and I am not alone. 

“Have any of those spiders left?” 

Life my gaze to him. We pull back. 

“No but I have these,” His hands pull out a handful of water balloons. 

Pull on a pair of jeans. Turtle follows me over to a window in the bedroom. A wonderful view of the next door apartment wall. The morning sun fades above the city buildings. 

“You know, Mike, this place does have a fire escape.” 

Lead him to the destination outside the bedroom window. On one window faces the main streets. Another faces the alley. In Between the black metal bars of the staircase. The two of us smirk. 

Mikey gives me his baby blue eyes. Narrow in an evil grin. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”  

“Always.” 

Open the window. Ladies first, his hands boost me to climb out. Wait for him, take his hand to pull him out. The turtle doesn't let go. Does he want to hold hands to climb the stairs?

He reads my mind. “We don’t need to climb that.” 

Of course we don’t. Throw me on his shell. Bind my arms around him in a death grip. Ignore his chuckle. One hop after a flip, and a hoist. Up on the roof. Wooden water tower, ducting systems. The only thing that is missing. Is them. I miss this. 

After endless hours of throwing water balloons at the innocent people down below. Watch them scream, shout, and laugh in cold water. Some may or may not have glitter and glue. No wonder so many become villains. 

Look over the edge down to a busy sidewalk. Wet sidewalk dried by the midday sun. Where dozens of people murmur. 

Tie off the balloon I ask, “This is the last one right?” 

Mikey’s hand waits for me to hand the balloon to him. Quiet, He mutters, “Yep.” 

His smile is here. Looking at me. This is the first time seeing him in daylight. Freckles burn in the light. A gentle breeze sways the clothes lines all around us. Sways his orange mask tails. A flame in the sun. Is it his smile? 

Reach the balloon to him. He ushers my wrist as well. Watch the balloon fall to its next victim. Neither one of us watches who the balloon hits. A turtle and human sit mid daylight together on a roof ledge. 

“Tessie?”

Hand holds human wrist. Run a hand over fair skin. Over old memories. Ones forgotten. Some are not. 

Stroke his thumb over dark bruises. Both of our freckle faces meet each other. Read each other’s silence. 

Slip my hand away, “I’m okay, it’s old.” 

A free green hand. Comb the long strands back. 

Soft words feather darkness, “You told me you were going to be okay, we made a promise didn’t we?”

A quiet nod. 

He takes both of my hands in his.

 Mikey asks, “Are you safe? Does anyone follow?” 

Pull the orange hoodie sleeve over the bruise. I chuckle, “Nope, just coffee machines falling apart on me.” 

Silence. Skin and shell shifts Mikey closer. Drown me in his shadow. Sinks my eyes further to my own hands. Draw along the old cracks that scarred this old building. 

A gentle push, he whispers, “Are you sure, that’s what happened? We don’t keep secrets, remember.” 

Stroke his hands, I murmur, “Mikey? What’s going on buddy?” 

He shrinks back. “Just want to know if you are okay.” 

Reach for him again, “Not just that, I know you why came over,” lift his chin to see me, burn the sun in my eyes, “did you think I wouldn’t miss you at all? We made a promise.” 

Nothing. Revert his focus. This is not the turtle I know. Please don’t change who he is. He slips away. No hop down the fire escape. He climbs down. Leave the fun. Hide from whatever sunlight there may be. 

Old memories mimic new. For as long as I can remember. I follow Mikey. Shell to me, saunter down the empty stairs. Back inside, the window curtains waltz in the slow air. Crawl back inside the bedroom. No turtle in the bed. Wander out to the kitchen. No turtle in the fridge. Out in the cold quiet living. Brown cold brick. One lone poster decorates the house. Green curtains drawn. Cover the room in floral shadows. One single blanket. Pink, fluffy, and covered in cartoon cats. All wrapped around a green ball of shell. 

No need to say words. Yells, whispers or anything. Not unless we break what we have. I’ve already caused enough damage before. Know what lingers in this apartment. A dark bitter blackness. 

Not now. Mikey is here. Curled alone in a ball in a dark corner of the couch. Only one person is allowed to do so in this apartment. Or deserves to be left like this.

 In pink and orange socks, given to me on Christmas from this special turtle. I climb down the platform steps. Weave around the coffee table. The shelf garden gives the room a fresh green smell. Controversial to the dark bitterness that darkens the room. Take a seat next to the fuzzy pink and green shell bundle. 

Whisper. “Mikey…” 

Silence. Fluffy white clouds roll over the golden sun. Hide away all the warmth of the morning before. Drape us in a cool gray shadow. 

“I know…what happened.” The fluffy bundle mumbles. 

Shade claps into black. Words shatter thin glass nerves. Fingers tingle, vibrate. Feet fizzle numb. 

“H-how…I-I…no nothing happened”- 

“I know everything, something did happen” Softness bitters a sharp growl. 

Uncurl himself from his tight ball. Cold ice shrinks me to look away. No, they swore they wouldn’t say a word. For his sake I never want him to know. He wasn’t there for any of it. How could he know? 

A free open apartment space all around us. Could get up and run from this if needed.Yet I am frozen where I sit. So close to his ice cold freeze. 

Memories of a storm roars. 

“That my boss is a jerk,” I smirk old news, “Most bosses are like that Mike”- 

“Stop hiding Tessie”- 

Heart leaps from the couch. Heels spin to run. Hands snatch mine. 

“Wait, wait, hold a sec.” Grip pulls me back. 

Heart thumps out all words in my throat a short scream. Run, scream all thoughts. Hide, shivers all joints. My turtle best friend. His gentle palm softens around my wrist. Yet this cold shiver. Clam all limbs to run forever. 

“…. P-please…” A child who died so long ago whispers, “L-let me go.” 

The child who found the other dead. His hand hugs mine, squeezes his plea. 

“I’m sorry sissy,” stops the pull, freezes the cold distance of what feels like miles apart.

Couch hinges creak behind. A shadow drapes over me. So many have curled me into a ball. Ready for what’s to come. This one, so many times before when I was small. 

Soft words reach nerves, “You’re alright,” 

Green freckle arms, Mikey’s arms slide around me. Drown out the cold in his warmth, he whispers, “breathe with me.” 

Wait for nerves to shiver, to breathe. His warmth turns me to his chest, to his racing heart to listen to mine. 

“It’s okay,” Michel whispers, “you’re safe.” 

Silence. Why am I like this? Why can’t I just be normal? Every training spar, loud bangs, every click of the coffee machine. It’s always like this.

“I found it all in the garbage this morning.” 

Oh no, that was supposed to be gone before he’s awake. The bottles, the evidence, all of it. How could I forget that? How can I be so stupid? Of course he knows it all. No one was supposed to know. Especially Mikey. 

The turtle pulls me from his warmth. Enough for his palms to lift cheeks up to his sweet blue gaze. Those big round eyes. Burns bright in the midday sun almost as radiant as his permanent smile. All tucked away in the shadow. Nothing can shade away the sweetness in his gaze. 

“I don’t have any more if you’re wondering.” I mumble. 

“Good,” His cheek nuzzles my forehead, “We never keep secrets.”

Think back to when that rule was made so long ago. Nudge his cheek in a nod. 

He asks, “Why did you leave us?” 

Both of us sink back down on the couch.

 I explain, “it was time, I couldn’t stay refuge forever.” 

“But you weren’t, you’re not a refuge,” Mikey sinks his eye level to mine, “did the guys ever tell you that?” 

“Mikey, they’ve been looking for my family since day one.” Curl into those old thoughts. Close them away in these hands before me.  

Fold himself on the couch. Follow him. Lay side by side. One head on the other's thigh. 

Chin on my thigh digs, “I never looked.” 

“No,” I slide the pink blanket back over his shell, “You didn’t.” 

Green fingers fiddle with the elastic band of my socks. “We promised no matter what you and I will stay together, what made you want to leave?” 

Snuggle under the blanket and his soft skin. I answer. “For this, we are above service in broad daylight, it’s what we’ve dreamed of, another kitchen to blow up, we just spent a whole morning pulling pranks on other people other than the guys, said we would visit each other all the time…why haven’t you, Donnie, or Leo, or Raphie? I tried to call you.” 

Darkness clouds baby blues. Drops to the colorful butterflies on the blanket. Hand on my shoulder slides away. Hold onto the little butterflies. Should’ve known. 

“You weren’t ready to let go, that’s why you won’t return my texts” Green muzzle hides. I take his limp arm, hold it so soft “We were never siblings to begin with, you found me, remember.” 

Tears well, soak orange mask, he shivers. “But you were mine, you were ours, so tiny in my arms. I knew you were mine. For once I had someone who thinks my pranks are cool, can speak Donnie, can out punch Raph, and talk sense into Leo when he goes leader serious,” 

“You were small too Mikey,” I add in, holding his hand, “we’re only a few years apart, from different lives.” 

More tears fall with his words and clench teeth, “And that life threw you out to the street, they left you to die. How can someone be so cruel? They didn’t know you.” 

Both human hand and turtle hand lock together. 

Smile at the thought. 

“You never left me, none of you did, you saved me my friend, you didn’t know me then either. Raphael and the others were right to look for my family. To find a solution to give me a normal life,” lost in a fog of water, heat burns all. Swim through the water, find my orange clad turtle, “Mikey, you were the one that gave me that normal life, let me make a normal life up here for all of us.” 

Crystal clear blue eyes ripple in the waves. Green complexion red as mine. Our muscles are as weak as each other. Both of us sit up from our ball. 

His round innocence. Sweet, angelic as his soft face. He trembles under water. “S-So…you didn’t leave…B-because you hated us, or something we did? T-thought you were done with your old brother.” 

Hands travel up from his arm. Freckle skin soaks in the sun and tears yet to fall. In this cold looney living room. Sunshine seeps between the curtain shadows. Shine more golden light inside. 

“Mikey, there will never be a time where I hate you, this is the next stage of life to come, would never leave you for good. Want you all of us to be a part of it. Nothing has changed, what has changed is where we are.” 

Cheeks curve in a smile. A hand on his cheek. He takes the back of my hand. Hold it still for him to snuggle into my palm. Two green hands, hold both my cheeks. Warm thumbs rub the hot tears aside. Same way he always has since day one. 

I chuckle, “there were so many times, so many pranks I’ve wanted to punch the daylights out of and have, you were always there for me, my best friend, and a brother I’ve always wanted to have.” 

A wet tongue licks a cow lick on my already messed up hair. Send gross shivers down my spine. To run to the closest thing to a shower and drown in. 

The orange turtle doesn’t let me go. Mikey chuckles, “Least I have you.” 

“Always.” 

Lean forward and our foreheads meet. Lean on each other. Arms join as well. Wrap each other in a tight embrace. Leave each other's foreheads to our cheeks, dig out noses into each other's shoulders. What may seem so unusual to the real world. Perhaps ugly or wrong. Maybe my life may have been different without him. I don’t care what my life would have been. This is my life now. 

Michelangelo the freckled turtle in orange. Surround me in his warmth and love. His own sunshine. 

No matter where life takes us. Where we may be. Whenever there is a street that needs to be terrorized by pranks. Or to text and call a bunch of brothers to build a garden shelf on walls. When the time comes when we grow older and wiser. Maybe families of our own. Or just us still on and on. There will always be, 

Mikey and me.

[wobblesthecowgirl]

I'm No O’Driscoll!

Chapter Three: Arthur's Doubts

Tags: Arthur Morgan x Femreader, enemies to lovers, O'Driscoll reader, game plot, Arthur doesn't have tuberculosis, eventual smut, age difference, 18+, mild gore

Word Count: 975

A/N: Sorry for a short chapter! Next chapter is going to be a long one...Lenny, Arthur, and Reader get drunk in Valantine! Comment how you want that to go! I've also changed the layout to see which is preferred.

Chapter One

Chapter Four

Arthur was starting to have doubts about letting both O’Driscoll’s join the gang. On the ride back to camp, he couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of them gunning down those there. Especially her. Where did she learn to shoot like that? She’s too quick.

Luckily, when he arrived, the place was calm and peaceful…or as peaceful as it could be. He scanned for the new members: Kieran was getting some soup from a not so happy Pearson, and then he finally saw her. It was clear the first thing she did as a free woman was have a wash and brush her hair.

Arthur couldn’t deny that she was definitely pretty, but her sour attitude, O’Driscoll past, and constant scowl made him hate her so much that he could look past how beautiful she was. However, when he watched from afar, he saw how she interacted with Mary-Beth: Her eyes were soft, her mouth curled up slightly at the corners, and she was even laughing lightly at times.

For some reason, this only annoyed him further. He strode over towards the two women who were sat on a blanket, looking up at him.

“You behavin’ yourself?” He asked, and there it was. Her famous scowl.

“You’re not going to give me a minute’s peace, are you?”

Now that he was closer, he could see had to look through her long lashes, and she had a small scar along her neck like Javier. Mary-Beth coughed.

“Is there something you need, Arthur?”

He shook his head, “Oh no, I was just making sure our new friend wasn’t giving you any trouble. God knows she gives it out a lot.” The woman shook her head to disagree, putting her book down.

“Not at all! She’s actually pleasant company.”

It was Y/n’s turn to talk, “I’m right here. Which, for your information, I’m a delight when I actually like the person. But, for a strange reason, I don’t like big dumb grunts who shoot me!”

Arthur rolled his eyes, “Give it a rest woman. You’re gonna have to get over that one day.”

The wind picked up slightly, making Y/n’s hair flow a little, and he was looking a bit too intently by accident. Mary-Beth stood up suddenly, causing the other two to turn to her. She excused herself, explaining she had chores to attend to, and scampered off. Arthur and Y/n stayed in awkward silence for a few seconds before she finally spoke up.

“Are you going to stand there or say something?”

He narrowed his eyes, staying stood because sitting next to her seemed too friendly, but the awkward pose of her sat looking up at him while he stood above her was just as bad.

“I’m just here to warn you that if you try anything- “

“Oh, give it a rest old man,” She spat as his eyes widened.

“Old man? You gotta be kidding, old man?”

Y/n laughed, tilting her head back slightly at his response. She stood up, dusting off her jeans. Despite being stood up now, she still had to look up. Tiny thing, she is. He asked, “And how old are you exactly?”

“Why? You interested?” She teased… flirted? He couldn’t tell, but he didn’t like either option.

He scowled at her, “Don’t be so cocky, girl. I’m askin’ ‘cos you’re acting like I’m as old as Hosea.”

“I’m in my early twenties, that’s all you’re getting.” She informed him, and for some reason, his stomach dropped. Arthur should’ve guessed she was young, she didn’t look older than thirty, but it still shocked him. Then she asked the same question. He chuckled lightly, looking away from her.

“I’m in my mid-thirties, old enough to be your Daddy.”

“Well, you don’t look a day over fifty.” She smiled sickly, enjoying tormenting the older man.

“Real mature of you.” He scoffed, before turning around without a goodbye. He couldn’t stand talking to her much longer; every single sentence she threw his way only jabbed him more and more, which would cause him to snap eventually. He found himself at Dutch’s tent, who was sat smoking a cigar and lost in thought. When he saw Arthur, his face lit up.

“Arthur! And to what do I owe the pleasure?” He took another puff.

“I just came to talk to you about that O’Driscoll girl.”

Dutch sat up straight, concern on his face, “Is she causing trouble?”

“Not exactly,” He rubbed the back of his neck, “It’s about her aim. When we were at Six Point, I was about to get shot, but she saved me. Put a bullet right between the man’s eyebrows. In seconds. That ain’t normal.”

The music was blaring from inside the tent like it usually did at this time, and Arthur could hear the rest of the members shouting and laughing. It almost drowned Dutch out.

“Where are you going with this, son?” The leader asked. Arthur paused, rubbing his chin.

“My point is, I don’t think she’ll cause trouble, but keep an eye on the guns around here.”

Dutch leaned back into his chair, a smug smile tugging at his lips.

“Or, we could use her to our advantage.” He was already planning something, a new chess piece for his board. Arthur rose an eyebrow and asked, “What you plannin’?”

He nodded his head, thoughts and ideas running through his head, “We are going to get Sean back, having her behind the scenes could be very helpful. Especially in a place like Blackwater.”

“Dutch…” Arthur groaned, “I can’t trust her. She may’ve saved my life, but she probably did it to save her own hide.”

“Well then, sounds like you two need to do a little bonding.” Dutch smirked, taking the final huff of his cigar, as he continued to scheme; much to Arthur’s dismay.

[dangerous-disposition]

52. “What did you do this time?” eddie/jeff 💕💕💕

Thank you so so so much for the request!! This was fun to write.

Please enjoy this little... prequel-ish ficlet for pom!verse 😘 gonna tag @spoookysix @xenon-demon @scarcrossdlvrs and @stobinesque while i'm at it ;p

Jeff barely reacted when Eddie burst into his room and shut the door just barely soft enough to not count as a slam— he’d heard the whirlwind that was his best friend from the moment he pulled up, let alone his thundering footsteps up the stairs. He didn’t even look up from the magazine he was mostly pretending to read, even as Eddie talked a million miles per second about something.

Honestly, all he heard was something about Gareth being an asshole about something, and Jeff knew his input wasn’t needed for this particular story, so he returned his focus to the article he was reading.

Then Eddie flopped down on the bed next to him, crawling up the length of it and settling in against Jeff’s side. Something fluttered in his chest at the closeness, at the steady heat of Eddie’s body against his, but he squashed that all down.

The only way he would be able to stay sane as Eddie Munson’s best friend is if he didn’t also have a crush on him.

“Jeff, you gotta help me,” Eddie whined, pressing his face directly into the center of Jeff’s chest as he flopped over on top of him.

Rolling his eyes and hoping he didn’t feel as hot as his face felt, Jeff asked, “what did you do this time?”

“I just told you, man,” he complained, practically wailed.

“I’m gonna be honest here, Eddie, I kinda tuned you out the second you said ‘Gareth’ and ‘being a whole dick’ in the same sentence,” Jeff sighed, and Eddie’s head whipped up to level a wounded stare at him.

“He was being a whole dick!” Eddie insisted.

“Oh no! Here I go again, tuning you out!” Jeff said dramatically, as if he was being dragged away while he lifted his magazine to start reading again.

“Jeffothy, I’m gonna call Freak my best friend if you keep being so mean,” Eddie pouted, dropping his face back onto Jeff’s chest. “Seriously, I need your help.”

“With what?” Jeff asked with another eyeroll.

There was a long pause, and for a second Jeff thought that Eddie fell asleep on top of him. Then he sighed and mumbled something unintelligible.

“Eddie, you’ve gotta speak up and enunciate,” Jeff sighed, lifting a hand to play with the ends of Eddie’s curly, long hair.

“… I need your help finding Gareth’s drumsticks—”

“Eddie, tell me you didn’t steal Gareth’s sticks and lose them,” Jeff groaned, covering his face with both hands.

“I didn’t mean to fuckin’ lose them! I swear I put them down for like two seconds, and then they were gone!” Eddie insisted, lifting his head to pout prettily up at Jeff. Already, he felt any amount of resolve against helping Eddie melting away. He never could say no to those big brown eyes, even before he had a not-crush simmering under the surface. Then Eddie’s pout got bigger, his eyes practically tearing up as he said, “Pwease hewp me?”

Barking out a laugh, Jeff shoved Eddie away and off the bed. “God, you’re so annoying,” he said lightly as he got up, ignoring the way his stomach squirmed at Eddie’s grin up at him.

“You love me, and you know it,” Eddie said smugly, hopping to his feet and brushing off the imaginary dust on his pants.

“Yeah,” Jeff agreed, smiling a bit wistfully as he followed Eddie out of his bedroom. “Yeah, I do.”

Make Me Write! Accepting more prompts until Sept. 30 @ 11:59 PM MT

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

A Helping Hand

Jake Lockley Rating: PG  Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

A/N: This was written for Enigmatist for the winter exchange. I'd posted it on ao3, but I just realised that I hadn't posted it here.

Set before the events of the show.

Summary: Jake doesn't often get days to himself. But when he does, he likes to make sure that someone is looking out for Marc and Steven.

Warnings: Gotta have some typos in there. Please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 849

Taglist: @pleasurebuttonwrites @jake-g-lockley @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @welcometostayingawake @mbakubabe @solobagginses

_________________________________________

Jake woke with a heavy sigh. 

He sat up quickly and flexed his fingers, watching carefully as they moved under his command. 

He swallowed, head cocked to the side as he listened. Silence. Good. 

Steven’s clock on the bedside table said ‘06:13’, which meant that it was ‘05:58’. 

Quickly Jake unbuckled the leg restraint and climbed out of bed. He stretched his back as he stood, his spine popping as he rolled his shoulders, before jumping over the sand circle with a practised ease, and walking over to the far corner.

He crouched, running his thumb over the floorboards for the small nick in the grain, before applying a precise point of pressure. 

There was a satisfying click and thud as the trap door in the middle of the room opened. 

It was a small space, but big enough for Jake to keep his things. 

He hummed as he got ready, taking as much joy as he could in his unscheduled time fronting. 

There was a strict pattern, a balancing act between Steven and Marc that left little for Jake. But, every now and then, there would be one of these quiet days. Time that was seemingly abandoned by the others. Time that was just for him.

He brushed his teeth: his toothbrush was hidden under the bathroom sink, wrapped in a plastic zip sealed bag and tied to a large pipe with brown string. He used Steven’s toothpaste, but Jake didn’t think he’d mind. 

He shaved with Marc’s razor, he preferred it to Steven’s. Jake had used to think that Marc didn’t hide things particularly well, but he’d come to realise in the last few years that perhaps that assumption wasn’t internally fair. It was just that they thought in similar patterns. 

With an acute precision Jake applied his moustache. The movements second nature at this point. 

He searched through the kitchen cupboards, making a quick mental list of what foods he needed to buy before heading out the front door and to the lift. 

There was a rustle of air as he stepped inside, a breeze that he had been waiting for. 

“Hello boss.” Jake said, not bothering to turn to look at where Khonshu had appeared on his left side.

“Jake Lockley, I have a task for you.”

Jake shook his head, his hands in his jacket pockets. “Not today.”

He looked up before the god could answer. 

“It’s my day off.”

Food shopping went quickly, and on his return ride in the lift he helped the nice lady on the third floor with her pram and bags - jamming the lift doors open with his metal lighter so that it didn’t travel off with his purchases.

He put the food away quickly, Steven’s in clear, obvious places, Marc’s in his hidden areas. Jake kept a few things to the side for himself. Packaged foods with long shelf lives. Things he could hide and not worry about.

Next, he scoured the flat. Tidying things away into the places that he knew Steven kept them, hoovering and doing the dishes. He loaded the washing machine, and ironed Steven’s shirts while listening to loud music. Jake hung them carefully in the wardrobe, arranging them by colour - just the way he, and Steven, liked. 

He dusted, and fixed the hook on the wall, he cleaned and tightened the kitchen tap so it was no longer dripping. 

Finally, he checked on Marc’s phone. The old flip one that he hid up in the rafters. It was still there. Still turned off. 

Jake chewed at his bottom lip as he held it in his hand. It would be so easy to turn it on. To listen to Layla’s voice on the countless messages she’d left Marc. 

He missed her. Ached for the comfort her presence always brought. The love that she showed Marc always bled through, reaching him no matter how far away Jake was. Warming him in the cold. 

He could call her.

He could tell her where Marc was. It would be so simple. So easy. She was probably monitoring the phone anyway, would probably know the second it was turned on. All her gadgets and programs to triangulate what phone towers the signal was bouncing from. She would find them so easily.

There was a reason Marc had kept this phone. There was a reason Marc hadn’t thrown it into the ocean, brought another burner and truly severed ties. 

Jake swallowed. He put the phone back. It wasn't his place to interfere like this. It wasn’t his place to turn it on, even though his heart ached to press the button. 

He sighed as he put it away, but, on impulse, he left the false panel slightly ajar. Maybe Marc would see it as a sign to call his wife. Their wife. 

“His wife…” Jake muttered under his breath as he climbed down. His shoulder slumped. 

He tried to straighten his spine. To pull his mood back to sunnier things. 

Jake looked at Steven’s clock. The day was still young. Maybe he could go for a drive.

[xxsycamore]

𝙏𝙤 𝙂𝙚𝙩 𝙍𝙞𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙚

↬ When period cramps are not enough, so you gotta have a headache too... and Theo's fingers happen to know exactly how to deal with those.

Theodorus van Gogh x reader • rating: G • tags: Menstruation; Period Cramps; headache; Massage; Fluff • wordcount:  800 • masterlist

a/n: Another fic for the series! If you happen to suffer from cramps and you want your favorite ikevamp suitor comforting you in their own unique way, I have for you: Napoleon, Comte, Mozart 💕(all fics in this series share the same opening scene)

It’s another beautiful day at the mansion, and the sun is continuing to shine brightly outside as afternoon settles in. Your list of chores is more than half-way done now, the morning was a productive one and you pat yourself on the back for pushing through at your usual pace, even if your period surprised you early this morning. Sleeves rolled up and armed with a feather duster, you march towards the lounge room to take care of another chore.

 Specks of dust dance in the afternoon sun, windows wide open, as you complete your task little by little. Soon the sections left to dust decrease and you start to tire - a minor pain in your tummy appearing as well, as if to persuade you into taking a short break. You throw a look at the grandfather clock. You’ve been a busy bee; not even the distraction of dusting off some of Comte’s highly intriguing antiques couldn’t get you late on your own schedule.

 You sit down at the spacious couch area, grab a throw pillow to hug, and fall on your side - shoe-covered feet juust hanging off the couch because it won’t be worth the effort of taking them off for just a minute or two of rest.

 Uh-oh! The pain doesn’t go away and only gets worse instead. Suddenly moving as much as a millimeter equals signing a death warrant.

 “Help” You whisper to yourself, clutching onto the throw pillow.

***

The thud of the door opening makes you snap out of it, as you peek behind the pillow to see who walked in.

"You lazing around, Hondje?"

Oh. Great.

"Hmhp."

Theo catches the throw pillow before it can come in contact with his face, thus knocking off his fedora. He takes a better look at you, seeing that you're more than just a little agitated.

"Is something the matter?"

Soon you start to regret getting rid of the fluffy barrier between you and Theo, and with nowhere to hide, you slowly rise to a sitting position.

"I had cramps. But I think they grew into a headache instead, so there's that…"

Theo hums in approval, leaving your side just to quickly grab the book he came here for, seemingly in a hurry but not so much as to leave you in that state. He joins your side in shortly.

"Can I do something for your headache?"

"For starters, take off that ugly hat…"

Theo sighs, complying anyway. "Only if you promise it eases your headache."

"Mhm!" You beam at him, albeit with a certain difficulty through the pain, watching him place the gray striped hat on the table. Then Theo goes behind the couch, for some reason.

"Rest your back and relax."

A little curious, you do as told… Theo's fingers are a little cold when they brush locks of hair behind your ears, the left one and then the right, and you struggle to stay still. Then his fingers return to your temples, and remain there, gently pressing.

Even if you forget to relax properly as per his command, it's inevitable at some point. Up till now, you haven't paid much attention to Theo's hands, much less his fingers - and even though you can't grasp them with your vision now, there's a lot to note by touch alone. The way they massage into the skin of your temples, you're able to feel how calloused they are, a result of days after days of hard work at the gallery… images blur and move as if on a film reel behind your closed eyelids: Theo moving large canvases around, Theo shaking hands with clients, Theo taking a step back and clapping his hands together, ready for the next exhibition…

"You have experience with headaches, huh, Theo…"

Theo snorts a short laugh, thumbs continuing to work the aching nerves at the sides of your forehead.

"You learn to take care of it one way or another." Noting your relaxed brows and overall posture lacking its prior tense, Theo strokes your hair back once and then takes his hands off you. "Here you go."

"Wow, it actually worked, so fast at that! Thank you, Theo."

Theo smirks at you, retrieving his hat and aiming for the door.

"I'm going to town again. Do you need something for your period?"

The question gets you off guard; Theo is very considerable today. Kind, even.

"I don't think so, but thank you either way!" You fluff up the little pillow and return it on its place on the couch. The energy in your movements surprises you, and it seems that the cramps have mellowed down along with the headache. You ought to thank Theo more.

"Wait, Theo? I was actually going to do the groceries next. Mind if I come in town with you?"

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran    @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @animeworldsposts @randomanimatedhusbandoseeker @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @pro-cat-stination @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @keen19thcenturygoatsstudent @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @canaria-blackwell @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 ​ @ikemenlover24 @violettduchess @mcofthemansion @tiny-wooden-robot @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @cilokgoang Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[p3ndeja6]

๑ˊૢᵕˋૢ๑

summary: Peter always known you had a wide variety of music, but only heard the soft music. Until one day he heard music he never thought you’d listen to

Content tags: fluff, light swearing, implied violence, implied sexual acts, slight teasing

tasm!Peter Parker xgn!reader

๑ˊૢᵕˋૢ๑

(real ones know these songs)

——————————————————————————-

Peter was out patrolling early morning, and you were home wondering what to do to kill time. you were currently listening to music, the soft indie music. You were vibing to them until you kept playing the other playlists in your library that were collecting dust

Kept skipping playlists until you stopped at one playlist you didn’t think you’d ever come back to. Something in you sparked up.

it got you up on your feet and straight to the speaker to connect.

beep!

connected

“ignore the hate, ignore the fake, ignore the funny shit, cause if * violate, we got hunnid clips”

you’ve always been a fan of this music but things change, eventually you came back to the music you swore you’d never listen to again

you were singing and shouting, and dancing to the music

all the hype got you cleaning yours and Peter’s shared bedroom

“These bitches love sosa! O end or no end!”

the music really helped you stay on task with the house hold chores

“just got some top from a stripper bitch, she from Kankakee”

at this point you now drifted to the kitchen to clean all while the music still played out

“I’m out here in Miami! Looking for the hoochie daddy’s!”

while the commotion was going on, you heard the keys jingle and you quickly went to the room to turn off the music before peter could fully hear the music and the lyrics.

He opened the door and you stood there out of breath and smiling

He gave you a confused smile

“why are you out of breath?” He laughed

“oh um.. I’ve been cleaning! you know me”

he laughed and brushed off the odd event

you love Peter really, but him knowing you like rap music kind of cringes you, since you both made fun of it often. So him knowing you like it too, he’ll tease you.

the next day

Peter left for work and you again were left at home on your day off

you turned on the speaker, and played your current favorite playlist, and got to cleaning

“Triple homicide, put me in a chair, yeah!”

and this is how you cleaning

bathroom, “she wanna go viral! Keep fuckin’ for hours! That pussy got power! That pussy got power!”

bedroom, “riding through New York, finna go shoot up New Jersey!…. We gon come and blow New Jersey up”

living room, “ I gotta * that fuck me so great! Whenever he wanna eat it, I just put it in his face!”

while singing, you were trying to remember why you stopped listening to this music.

it was character development in all honesty

you were so into the cleaning you didn’t hear the door open.

“Know a little freak in Hollywood, sucks on dick, does it real good!”

as you were rapping these lyrics, dancing, you turned around and met with your boyfriend who had wide eyes at your explicit language and the music choice you chose

you froze and widen your eyes that you were finally caught and you couldn’t deny the truth. You’re heart beating due to the combination of singing, dancing and cleaning.

you grabbed your phone and pressed pause

“who am I dating?” He said in sarcastic disbelief

“awh noo, I didn’t want you to see me like this!” You exclaimed

you were embarrassed, like genuinely

“why?”

“Cmon Pete, aren’t you surprised?”

he paused

“yeah actually, I never knew you listened to this music” he said with a hint of disgust

“well I don’t but I have been recently… I used to like rap music years back but I stopped” you admitted

“and I missed it, this music really gets you pumping and full of energy”

he admired your truthfulness, but still wasn’t convinced this was you

“you keep looking at me as if I’m lying to you” you said

he laughed, “can I be honest, I want to believe you that you like this music but .. I just can’t” he said between giggles

“stop Peter I’m serious, I do like this music”

“right…”

“look click any song from here and I can sing with ease, I swear”

he was skeptical but he did anyway. He intently looked at the titles and see if he can loophole and find a song you don’t know… he was wrong

“ah okay this one!”

he played “X” by 21 savage

you proved him wrong, you do know this song

the song only started a few seconds and you told him the name of it and he stood there in shock

“woah”

“I told you”

a few moments of silence and he started dying of laughter

you knew he wouldn’t let this live down

but now you listen to that music and he has to listen

he would be lying if he didn’t find himself singing along and bumping his head.. but he wouldn’t admit that… ever

๑ˊૢᵕˋૢ๑

[maxslibrary]

I see your requests are open

May I request a Frye with a Gender neutral reader doing bandit stuff together?

Doesn't need to be romantic I just wanna spend time with her

Ruins With Rewards (Frye x GN!Bandit!Reader Oneshot)

"HEY Y/N!" Frye yelled from another room, startling you. The yell almost caused you to stumble over some loose boards. You and Frye had started looking around some human ruins. She had found them while scouting around and decided to invite you to tag along. Just for some one on one time. "WHAT IS IT?" You yell back as you walk around, looking around for her. You put a sack of random trinkets you've found in this building so far.

You looked over at Frye as she stood from outside of a room, half of her body still inside. She waved over to you, motioning for you to come close "C'mon I PROMISE it's cool." She smirked. You rolled your eyes as you smiled, a bit of a skip in your step as you walk over to her. As you step, you make sure to avoid anything that'd make you trip. You gently move some pieces of rubble to the side using your feet. You finally make it to the room Frye is in.

What ever it is she sure does look excited. She kneels down and uses her hands to drag a box out of a closet. Once she managed to get it out she brushed off her pants. She looked back at you.

"You gotta see this, Y/N!" she steps to the side, allowing you to inspect the box. You step forward and gently open the box. Inside you see a black and rectangular device. Alongside it was a device with a screen and buttons. It was some sort of ancient human device.

"Whoa... Aren't these those ancient human devices?" You kneeled down and gently picked up the smaller device. You used your other hand to trace the cracks on the screen.

"Yeah! I've only seen them in museums!" She chirped. Frye knelt down at the other side of the box, watching as you placed the smaller device back inside. "Just sitting there.. collecting dust." She smiled as she placed her hand on her cheek.

You chuckle as you close the box "And you aren't gonna be bringing this to one are you?" you kneel down in front of the box. Frye shook her head.

"Want to bring this back home? Shiver and Big Man are gonna have their minds BLOWN!" She made a mind blown motion with her hands. This caused you to laugh a bit "Yeah! Let's get this thing out of here.".

Frye jumped onto her feet and slammed her fist into her palm "Let's do this!" She cheered.

With that you two got ready to move all your findings out of the ruins. With a haul like this, who knows, maybe you'll come back someday!

[the-laridian]

Art Therapy (25947 words) by laridian Chapters: 24/? Fandom: Fallout 76 Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Beckett/Male Resident Characters: Male Resident (Fallout 76), MODUS (Fallout), Beckett (Fallout 76), Original Male Character(s), Sage (Fallout 76) Additional Tags: Diary/Journal, Illustrations, Phobias, Fear of Thunderstorms Series: Part 2 of Ironwood Summary of Chapter 24: Beckett's discovery in the mine proves to be a golden opportunity for both he and Willow.

“Hold the light higher?” Willow peered at the door. “This has gotta be pre-war,” he said. “Maybe it’s someone’s bunker.” “If it is, they haven’t been out this way in years,” Beckett said, as Willow ran his fingers over the edges of the doorframe. “You saw what the boards look like.” “Yeah. ‘Course, whoever’s this is, they might still be in there and just aren’t using this exit.” Willow brushed at the lettering, then scrubbed harder with his thumb at a dark line under it. “I think this… Yeah. It’s a card reader.” “Okay?” “Yeah, see?” Willow pointed. “It’s recessed like that, and with the dirt and crud it just looked like a line.” He dusted off his hands. “I’m gonna go back to the camp and get a few things, and I think I can pop this door open.”

[nucleariguana]

The Lyrics To Every Song In “Mandatory Fun”

My maid is cleaning the bathroom, so I can't take a shower When I do, the water starts getting cold after an hour I couldn't order off the breakfast menu, cause I slept in till two Then I filled up on bread, didn't leave any room for tiramisu Oh no, there's a pixel out in the corner of my laptop screen I don't have any bills in my wallet small enough for the vending machine Some idiot just called me up on the phone, what!? Don't they know how to text? OMG! I got

First world, first world problems (First world problems) First world, first world problems (First world problems) First world, first world problems

I bought too many groceries for my refrigerator Forgot my gardener's name, I'll have to ask him later Tried to fast forward commercials, can't, I'm watching live T.V I'm pretty sure the cookies in this airport lounge ain't gluten free My barista didn't even bother to make a design in the foam on the top of my vanilla latte

First world, first world problems (First world problems) First world, first world problems (First world problems) First world, first world problems

Can't remember which car I drove to the mall My Sonicare won't recharge, now I gotta brush my teeth like a neanderathal The thread count on these cotton sheets has got me itching My house is so big, I can't get WiFi in the kitchen Uh, I had to buy something I didn't even need just So I could qualify for free shipping on Amazon

First world, first world problems (First world problems) First world, first world problems (First world problems) First world, first world problems (First world problems)

First world, first world problems (First world problems) First world, first world problems (First world problems) First world, first world problems

I'm waking up, in Cheeto dust My belly's covered with pizza crust I'm using my inhaler now I'm out of shape, fattening up I'm sipping Coke from a Solo Cup Donut crumbs are upon my lips, whoa

The TV's on, I really hate this show I can't reach my remote control Welcome to my new place, to my new place Sorry it's a cramped space, but it's my place Whoa oh, whoa I'm, really inactive, I'm so inactive Whoa oh, whoa I'm, really inactive, highly inactive

My muscle's gone, I'm atrophied Always lose my fight with gravity I rest my bones, and just chillax, whoa My NordicTrack's collecting dust And my StairMaster's a pile of rust This is it, The Inertia, whoa

I can't get up, this couch is part of me I'm growing cobwebs on my knee Pretty sad for my age, sad for my age I could break my rib cage, here is my age Whoa oh, whoa I'm, really inactive, yes, quite inactive Whoa oh, whoa I'm, really inactive, not very active

Near comatose, no exercise Don't tag my toe, I'm still alive

I'm giving up, my energy is shot I'm never moving from this spot Never move from this place, move from this place I'll stay here in this place, right in this place Whoa oh, whoa I'm, really inactive, just so inactive Whoa oh, whoa I'm, really inactive, not so attractive

Tuesday morning, 8:15 I was riding to work on the Jackson Park Express Seemed like any other day Then my whole world changed In a way I never could have guessed 'Cause she walked in Took the seat right across the aisle I knew we had a special connection The second I saw her smile

She smiled as if to say "Hello, haven't seen you on this bus before" I gave her a look that said "Huh, life is funny, you never know what's in store By the way, your hair is beautiful I bet it smells like raisins"

She looked at me in a way that asked "Did you have a nose job or something? I'm only asking, cause your nose looks slightly better Than the rest of your face" I arched my eyebrow, ever so slightly Which was my way of asking "Do you want my old Hewlett-Packard printer? It still works, kinda And I got a bunch of ink cartridges left"

Then, she let out a long sigh Which, I took to mean, "Uh" "Mama, what is that deodorant you're wearing? It's intoxicating Why don't we drive out to the country sometime? And collect deer ticks in a zip-lock baggie", oh yeah

I gave her a penetrating stare Which could only mean "You are my answer, my answer to everything Which is why, I'll probably do very poorly On the written part of my driver's test"

Yes, it all happened On the Jackson Park Express On the Jackson Park Express On the Jackson Park Express On the Jackson Park Express

I knew she was starting to fall for me 'Cause she crinkled her nose, which unmistakably meant "Baby, lets wear each other's clothes And speak in a thick German accent And, maybe someday we can own and operate Our own mobile pet-grooming service" I couldn't hold back my feelings I gave her a look, that said "I would make any sacrifice for your love Goat, chicken, whatever I could never hold you close enough Let's have our bodies surgically grafted together Oh, surgically grafted together"

She picked up a newspaper, and started reading to herself Which I'm sure, was a way of telling me "When you're cold, I will warm you When you're shivering, I will hold you When your nauseous, I will give you Pepto-Bismol every hour For as long as the symptoms persist" Oh, I, I never, ever want to see you cry So, please let me cauterize your tear ducts with an arc welder Then, I glanced down, at her shirt, for a second In a way that clearly implied "I like your boobs"

Yes, it all happened On the Jackson Park Express On the Jackson Park Express On the Jackson Park Express On the Jackson Park Express

I cleared my throat quietly, and then, I looked away And I'm sure it was obvious to her, just what I was trying to say I was trying to say, "Hey I'd like to make a wall-sized mural out of all the dead skin cells That you slough off while you sleep at night" Whoa-o-Oh, "I'd like to rip you wide open And french-kiss every single one of your internal organs Oh, I'd like to remove all your skin, and wear your skin, over my own skin But not in a creepy way"

Then, I'm pretty sure, she looked at me, out of the corner of her good eye And, though, she never spoke a word, this is exactly what I heard She was saying, "Oh! I wanna make out with you, in an abandoned toll-booth, in the middle of a monsoon I wanna ride dolphins with you, in the moonlight Until the staff at Sea World kicks us out I want you inside me, oh, like a tapeworm"

I pointed to the side of my mouth, as a way of indicating "Hey, I think you got something on the side of your mouth" She licked the corner of her lips, as if to say "Here?", I nodded, implying, "Yeah, you got it"

And, then the bus stopped, at 53rd Street, and she got up suddenly "Where are you going?", pleaded my eyes, "Baby, don't you do this to me Think of the beautiful children we could have someday We could school them at home, raise them up the right way And protect them from the evils of the world Like Trigonometry and Prime Numbers, oh no Baby, please don't go"

She brushed my leg, as she left the bus I'm sure that was her way of saying "I'm sorry this just isn't working out You're suffocating me I need some space to find out what life's all about So, goodbye forever, my love"

And deep inside, I knew she was right It was time for us both to move on And no, I never got her number, oh no no She never bothered to leave her address, oh But, as long as I live, I'll never forget Those precious moments we shared together

On the Jackson Park Express On the Jackson Park Express On the Jackson Park Express On the Jackson Park Express On the Jackson Park Express On the Jackson Park Express On the Jackson Park Express On the Jackson Park Express

We must all efficiently Operationalize our strategies Invest in world-class technology And leverage our core competencies In order to holistically administrate Exceptional synergy We'll set a brand trajectory Using management's philosophy Advance our market share vis-à-vis Our proven methodology With strong commitment to quality Effectively enhancing corporate synergy Transitioning our company By awareness of functionality Promoting viability Providing our supply chain with diversity (versity, ooooh) We will distill our identity Through client-centric solutions And synergy (Oooooh oooh oooh)

At the end of the day (At the end of the day) We must monetize our assets The fundamentals of change Can you visualize a value-added experience? That will grow the business infrastructure and Monetize our assets Monetize our assets Monetize our assets

Bringing to the table Our capitalized reputation Proactively overseeing Day-to-day operations Services and deliverables With cross-platform innovation Networking, soon will bring, seamless integration Robust and scalable, bleeding-edge and next-generation Best of breed We'll succeed In achieving globalization

And gaining traction with our resources in the marketplace It's mission-critical to stay incentivized Against this purple-poster-flexible-solutions for our customer base If you can't think outside the box You'll be downsized It's a paradigm shift! (Hey, Hey! Look out!) Well, it's a paradigm shift, now! (Here we go! Here we go! Here we come! Here we come! Ha!)

We clawed, we chained our hearts in vain We jumped never asking why We kissed, I fell under your spell A love no one could deny

Don't you ever say I just walked away I will always want you I can't live a life, running for my life I will always want you

I came in like a wrecking ball I never hit so hard in love All I wanted was to break your walls All you ever did was wreck me Yeah, you wreck me

All the other kids with the pumped up picture You better run, better run, outrun my gun All the other kids with the pumped up picture You better run, better run faster than my bullet

And we danced all night to the best song ever We knew every line, now I can't remember I think it went ooh eh ooh I think it went oohla eh ooh I think it goes eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh

Eh, sexy lady Po, po, po, po Polka Gangnam Style Eh, sexy lady Po, po, po, po Eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh

Hey, I just met you And this is crazy But here's my number So call me, maybe And all the other boys Try to chase me But here's my number So call me, maybe

I wanna scream and shout (hey!) And let it all out And scream and shout (hey!) And let it out We sayin', "Ohh, wee ohh, wee oh wee oh" We sayin', "Ohh, wee ohh, wee oh wee oh wee ohh, wee oh wee oh"

Now you're just somebody that I used to know Now you're just somebody that I used to know

It's going down (hey!), I'm yelling timber You better move, you better dance Let's make a night you won't remember I'll be the one you won't forget (Timber! Timber!)

I'm sexy and I know it Girl look at that body (He's sexy and he knows it)

I wear your grandad's clothes I look incredible I'm in this big old coat From that thrift shop down the road (Hey!)

That's right! (He looks incredible) I do! (He's in that big old coat) It's large! Hey, lets go! (From that thrift shop down the road)

I'm gonna pop some tags Only got twenty dollars in my pocket I'm hunting, looking for a come-up This is super awesome

She's up all night 'til the sun I'm up all night to get some She's up all night for good fun I'm up all night to get lucky

We're up all night 'til the sun We're up all night to get some We're up all night for good fun We're up all night to get lucky

We're up all night to get lucky We're up all night to get lucky We're up all night to get lucky We're up all night to get lucky We're up all night to get lucky We're up all night to get lucky We're up all night to get lucky Up all night to get lucky

Yes, we're up all night to get Can get lucky, we're gonna get lucky, let's all get lucky We're up all night to get lucky! (Hey!)

I saw a baby drive a truck I saw a junkie eat a tuba I saw a stripper kiss a duck Behind a dumpster in Aruba

I saw this fat, psychotic guy His underwear was made of crickets He pawned a skeleton to buy Some old expired lotto tickets

I saw a naked vagrant giving Mouth-to-mouth resuscitation to his cat I probably could have gone my whole life Without seeing that

With my own eyes I see things that'd drive a normal man insane Wish I could disconnect my brain From my own eyes

I saw a mime get hacked to death With an imaginary cleaver I saw an old man's final breath I watched him die from Bieber Fever I saw these diabetic chicks In an abandoned 7-Eleven I watched them snorting pixie sticks While they were belching Stairway To Heaven

I saw two drag queens trying to see how many crackers They could shove up each other's nose I'd like to erase my mind completely but I suppose That's just the way it goes

With my own eyes I see things that'd drive a normal man insane Wish I could disconnect my brain From my own eyes (my own eyes) Those visions haunt my memory Oh, there's so much I wish I could unsee With my own eyes

Some priest got drunk and stole a circus zebra And he trained it to massage his back My guinea pig committed hara-kiri So we used him to play hacky-sack My neighbor's kids sold weapons grade plutonium And frosty ice-cold lemonade They took MasterCard and sometimes Human organs in trade, that's how we paid I have to say that it was really darn good lemonade

With my own eyes I've seen thing that'd drive a normal man insane Wish I could disconnect my brain From my own eyes (my own eyes) Those visions haunt my memory Oh, there's so much I wish I could unsee With my own eyes With my own eyes With my own eyes With my own eyes

Everybody shut up, woo! Everyone listen up! Hey, hey, hey, uh Hey, hey, hey

If you can't write in the proper way If you don't know how to conjugate Maybe you flunked that class And maybe now you find That people mock you online

Okay, now here's the deal I'll try to educate ya Gonna familiarize You with the nomenclature You'll learn the definitions Of nouns and prepositions Literacy's your mission And that's why I think it's a

Good time To learn some grammar Now, did I stammer Work on that grammar You should know when It's "less" or it's "fewer" Like people who were Never raised in a sewer

I hate these word crimes Like I could care less That means you do care At least a little Don't be a moron You'd better slow down And use the right pronoun Show the world you're no clown Everybody wise up!

Say you got an "I", "T" Followed by apostrophe, "s" Now what does that mean? You would not use "it's" in this case As a possessive It's a contraction What's a contraction? Well, it's the shortening of a word, or a group of words By the omission of a sound or letter

Okay, now here's some notes Syntax you're always mangling No "x" in "espresso" Your participle's danglin' But I don't want your drama If you really wanna Leave out that Oxford comma Just keep in mind

That "be", "see", "are", "you" Are words, not letters Get it together Use your spellchecker You should never Write words using numbers Unless you're seven Or your name is Prince

I hate these word crimes You really need a Full time proofreader You dumb mouth-breather Well, you should hire Some cunning linguist To help you distinguish What is proper English

One thing I ask of you Time to learn your homophones is past due Learn to diagram a sentence too Always say "to whom" Don't ever say "to who" And listen up when I tell you this I hope you never use quotation marks for emphasis You finished second grade I hope you can tell If you're doing good or doing well About better figure out the difference Irony is not coincidence And I thought that you'd gotten it through your skull What's figurative and what's literal Oh but, just now, you said You literally couldn't get out of bed That really makes me want to literally Smack a crowbar upside your stupid head

I read your e-mail It's quite apparent Your grammar's errant You're incoherent Saw your blog post It's really fantastic That was sarcastic (Oh, psych!) 'Cause you write like a spastic

I hate these Word Crimes Your prose is dopey Think you should only Write in emoji Oh, you're a lost cause Go back to pre-school Get out of the gene pool Try your best to not drool

Never mind I give up Really now I give up Hey, hey, hey Hey, hey, hey Go away!

Your sports team is vastly inferior That simple fact is plainly obvious to see We're gonna kick your collective posterior Of course you realize we're speaking figuratively Our stats are thoroughly impressive Our coach really has the Midas touch Our players are fast and strong and brave And your guys, eh, not so much

In fact we've played teams across the nation And you're the worst one we've come across Try to assimilate that information And it just might help you cope with your impending loss Oh, and if somehow we are still failing To affectively articulate the points at hand Allow us now to summarize them in a manner That your feeble brains can understand

We're great (we're great) And you suck (you suck) We're great (we're great) And you suck (you suck) We're great (we're great) And you suck (you suck) You see there's us (we're great) And then there's you (you suck) We're really, really great (really great) In contrast, you really suck (really suck) Okay, full disclosure, we're not that great But nevertheless, you suck

Your sports team will soon suffer swift defeat That theory's backed up by empirical evidence We're gonna grind up your guys into burger meat Again, of course, we're speaking in the figurative sense What's the use of even going through the motions When you know that you're gonna lose anyhow So why don't you save us all some time And give up now (you suck!)

I never seem to finish all my food I always get a doggie bag from the waiter So I just keep what's still unchewed And I take it home, save it for later

But then I deal with fungal rot, bacterial formation Microbes, enzymes, mold and oxidation I don't care, I've got a secret trick up my sleeve

I never bother with baggies, glass jars, tupperware containers Plastic cling wrap, really a no-brainer I just like to keep all my flavours sealed in tight

With aluminum foil (Foil) Never settle for less That kind of wrap is just the best To keep your sandwich nice and fresh

Stick it in your cooler (Cooler) Eat it when you're ready Then maybe you'll choose (You'll choose, you'll choose, you'll choose) A refreshing herbal tea Mmm, lovely!

Oh, by the way, I've cracked the code I've figured out these shadow organizations And the Illuminati know That they're finally primed for world domination

And soon you've got black helicopters comin' cross the border Puppet masters for the New World Order Be aware: There's always someone that's watching you And still the government won't admit they faked the whole moon landing Thought control rays, psychotronic scanning Don't mind that, I'm protected cause I made this hat

From aluminum foil (Foil) Wear a hat that's foil lined In case an alien's inclined To probe your butt or read your mind

Looks a bit peculiar ('culiar) Seems a little crazy But someday I'll prove (I'll prove, I'll prove, I'll prove) There's a big conspiracy

One time I was in the checkout line Behind Steven Seagal Once I'm pretty sure Mr. Jonah Hill Was in the very next bathroom stall My best friend's brother Well, he was an extra in Wayne's World 2 My neighbour's baby sitter Dated three of the guys in Motley Crue I swear Jack Nicholson Looked right at me at a Laker's game

I got a lame Lame claim to fame

Check it out, I bought a second hand toaster From a guy who says he knows Brad Pitt I got me an email from the prince of Nigeria Well, he sure sounded legit My sister used to take piano lessons From the second cousin of Ralph Nader Last year I threw up in an elevator Next to Christian Slater Well guess what, my birthday and Kim Kardashian's Are exactly the same

I got a lame Lame claim to fame A really lame Lame claim to fame

Once at a party, my dentist accidentally Sneezed on Russell Crowe I posted first in the comments On a YouTube video I tried to sit by Steve Buscemi But he told me this seat's taken I know a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy Who know a guy who knows a guy who know Kevin Bacon

I had a car that used to belong To Cuba Gooding Jr.'s uncle A friend of mine in high school Had jury duty with Art Garfunkel One time I was staying in the same hotel As Zooey Deschanel I used the same napkin dispenser As Steve Carell at a Taco Bell Well I don't mean to brag but Paul Giamatti's plumber knows me by name

I got a lame Lame claim to fame A really lame Lame claim to fame I'm talking lame Lame claim to fame A really really really lame Lame claim to fame

Ow, let's get lame boys

First things first, I'm a craftsman (craftsman) Remodelling is my only passion (it's my passion) And I'm the greatest in the business Want referrals, yo My clientèle will bear you witness (right, right) I can help when your door jamb sticks (heh?) There is nothing in the world I can't fix (yeah) I do tiles, I do stone, I do bricks Call me, I'll come rushing over with my bag of tricks (bag of tricks) Where you go when your disposal is rusted (rusted) Termite problem making you disgusted (yuck) When your front window is busted (hey hey hey) Just one man that's always trusted

I'm so handy, you already know I'll fix your plumbing when your toilets over flows I'm so handy, I'll bring you up to code When your dishwasher's about to explode

Now you see that your furnace is needing some service I'm fully bonded, no need to be nervous Perhaps you would like a new counter Formica Maybe I'll hook up your dish washer combo dryer But all your pipes are antique Your water pressure's too weak You got an attic full of dry rot Because your roof sprung a leak Your fridge is starting to reek Your hardwood floors really squeak But don't you worry I'll just show you my amazing technique Now let me glue that, glue that and screw that, screw that Any random chore you got, well I can do that, do that Or maybe I'll just rewire your house for fun I got 99 problems but a switch ain't one

I'm so handy, everyone said so I'll grout your bathroom, resurface your patio I'm so handy, I'm the guy to know When your leaf blower doesn't blow-oh-oh-oh

Patch the drywall, clean your gutters and mow the lawn Make that phone call, I'll install anything you want Yeah, check my big staple gun, my socket wrenches are second to none I won't quit 'til I'm done, don't even care if I hammer my thumb (OW!)

Still rocking my screwdriver Got the whole world thinking I'm MacGuyver Your heating bills are shocking I can solve that with some duct tape and some caulking Your house is a disaster, huh? Need a guy whose a master with the plaster, huh? Let me be your stripper Taking off lacquer, no one does it quicker

I'm so handy, you already know I'll beat all price quotes, my hourly rates are low I'm so handy, you should call this pro I'm in the phone book and se habla Español It might seem crazy, wearing stripes and plaid I Instagram every meal I've had All my used liquor bottles are on display We can go to see a show but I'll make you pay

Wear my belt with suspenders and sandals with my socks (Because I'm tacky) Got some new glitter Uggs and lovely pink sequined Crocs (Because I'm tacky) Never let you forget some favor I did for you (Because I'm tacky) If you're okay with that, then, you might just be tacky, too

I meet some chick, ask her this and that Like 'Are you pregnant girl, or just really fat?' (what?) Well, now I'm dropping names almost constantly That's what Kanye West keeps telling me, here's why

Wear my Ed Hardy shirt with fluorescent orange pants (Because I'm tacky) Got my new resume it's printed in Comic Sans (Because I'm tacky) Think it's fun threatening waiters with a bad Yelp review (Because I'm tacky) If you think that's just fine, then, you're probably tacky, too

Bring me shame, can't nothing Bring me shame, I never know why Bring me shame, can't nothing Bring me shame, I said Bring me shame, can't nothing Bring me shame, it's pointless to try Bring me shame, can't nothing Bring me shame, I said

43 Bumper Stickers and a YOLO license plate (Because I'm tacky) Bring along my coupon book whenever I'm on a date (Because I'm tacky) Practice my twerking moves in line at the DMV (Because I'm tacky) Took the whole bowl of restaurant mints. Hey, it said they're free (Because I'm tacky) I get drunk at the bank And take off my shirt, at least (Because I'm tacky) I would live-tweet a funeral, take selfies with the deceased (Because I'm tacky) If I'm bit by a zombie, I'm probably not telling you (Because I'm tacky) If you don't think that's bad, guess what, then you're tacky, too

[bakedbakermom]

Stained

Chapter 8: Safe // start at the beginning

tagging @today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr

safe adjective 1. free from hurt or injury 2. rendered harmless --- Miracles at Sunnydale General

Scully came back to herself slowly, unsure if or how she had a self to come back to. She blinked lazily against sunlight streaming through the window, warm and thick as honey, little flecks of dust dancing through it; then she saw Mulder, and woke all at once.

His head lay on her bed, on top of the thin blue blanket that seems to come standard in every hospital across the country. The sunlight shining in his rumpled hair set off highlights of red and gold. His hand, curled around hers and carefully avoiding the line of her IV, was beautifully warm. She stared at him, transfixed by the steady rise and fall of his shoulders with each breath.

He stirred as if sensing her stare, his hand tightening around hers before his eyes had even opened. A smile broke across his face when he saw she was awake. “Hey there, Scully.”

“Hi,” she managed through a throat tight with tears. Her mouth opened and closed, her mind spinning through too many questions. “Mulder, you—? You’re—?”

He smiled. “One-hundred percent, grade-A human. Accept no substitutes.” He pressed their joined hands to his chest; she felt the beat of his heart beneath his ribs, strong and steady as a drum. Scully closed her eyes and let it wash over her like music, tears spilling down her cheeks; it was a song she never thought she’d hear again, a song she could listen to forever. Eventually he lifted her hand to his lips, brushing a tender kiss across her knuckles. “You saved me, Scully.”

She reached her free hand to her chest, expecting swathes of bandages, broken ribs, maybe even a shattered sternum. But she felt nothing but a sore ache; when she peeked down the front of her hospital gown, she saw only a bruise, larger than her spread fingers but already shifting from purple to pink and yellow. “I’m okay. How am I okay?”

“Honestly, we have no idea; we were actually hoping you might have some insight,” he said as she looked at him in stunned confusion. “When the knife made contact, there was this burst of light—intense, blinding. By the time we’d all recovered from it, you were unconscious on the floor and I had a pulse again. The knife had shattered into a million pieces. Giles was pissed; I think the poor guy turned purple for a minute there.” He chuckled and squeezed her hand. “I gotta say, Scully, you’re not the first woman who would rather die than be with me, but you are the first who tried to make it happen.”

His words were flippant, but they tugged at Scully’s heart just the same. She smiled at him briefly, then looked down at their joined hands, overcome with an uncharacteristic vulnerability. How could she even begin to explain to him what she had seen, what she had done, how it had felt to cradle her own heart in her hands—to place it inside the hollow place where his heart had once been? She took a deep breath. “Mulder—”

He shook his head, already retreating, already prepared to go back to the familiar steps of their dance. Already anticipating the same rejection he had felt all his life, as if the idea of anyone loving him was just too ridiculous to contemplate. “It���s okay,” he said softly, his pain veiled to anyone who hadn’t learned to read him like she had. “Buffy told me everything while you were out. But if you’ve changed your mind, or she misinterpreted or—”

She huffed out a small laugh, as much at herself as at him. What a pair we make. The only woman on earth who found it easier to die for him than to say the words out loud; the only man who could be restored to life by the fire in her heart, and still wonder if she’d meant it in a “just friends” kind of way. 

“Mulder,” she said again, more firmly, the you idiot implied in the tilt of her chin, the lift of her eyebrow. He ducked his head, smiling bashfully; she tugged on his hand and he followed her unspoken request, climbing up onto the narrow hospital bed so she could curl herself against him; she lay her head on his chest and listened, letting the sound of his heart fill her.

“I’m not even sure where to begin,” she finally said. “I remember the church, the spell; I remember the knife coming towards me. There was a light, and then I—I think I died. I felt my heart go into you.” The memories were already softening around the edges, the way a dream dissolves in the first light of morning. She told him as much as she could remember: about the Morrígna who were a multitude, a trio, and a single being all at once; reliving her memories of that night in the cave, from within her body and without at the same time; the forgiveness and certainty that washed over her when she saw him again for all that he truly was.

Tears spilled down her cheeks and she stumbled over the words. Heartfelt confessions and revelations had always been Mulder’s domain—and, for some reason, usually in the hallway of his apartment building—but he held her, and he listened, and when his warm tears dripped into her hair, she turned her face up to meet his eyes.

“I held my own heart in my hand, Mulder, and when I looked into the empty place where yours should have been, I knew where I belonged. I tucked that brilliant light into your chest, put that most important piece of myself inside you, knowing that even though I would never get to tell you the words myself, you would carry me forward with you. I gave you my life, so you could live knowing that I—” She stopped, swallowed hard past the lump in her throat. Beneath her hand, Mulder’s heart was pounding; it matched her own. Of course it does. The synchronicity gave her the courage to speak, though her words were barely a whisper. “I love you, Mulder.”

His face lit up beneath the sheen of tears, and before he could say a word, Scully ran her fingers through his hair and pulled until his mouth met hers.

He froze for a moment, panic-faced, and then melted into the lush and hungry heat of her mouth. He kissed her like she was a wine to savor, a mystery to explore. She rubbed her thumb along the stubble of his jaw and sighed as his fingers twined gently through her hair to cup the base of her skull. She opened her mouth to him, and the first sweet slide of his tongue on hers felt like coming home. His heart danced under her palm, keeping rhythm with hers, point and counterpoint, and she felt in her blood the heat of the flame that now lived in them both.

A giggle from the doorway snapped them apart, Scully blushing so hot she thought she might combust, Mulder stammering something that may have been an apology as he scrubbed a nervous hand over his face. The Scooby Squad stood just inside the room, expressions of unabashed glee on their faces—though Giles was at least attempting to look embarrassed. The giggle must have come from Buffy, who was trying and failing to hold her laughter in with a hand clamped over her mouth; Willow and Tara were clinging to each other, making squeaking noises in the register normally reserved for bats and dolphins. 

Xander beamed like his face might burst. “That was even better than the movie!” 

Scully’s blush deepened and she hid her face against Mulder’s shoulder; somehow, knowing that they had seen The Lazarus Bowl was even more embarrassing than getting caught with Mulder’s tongue in her mouth.

“Oh my God,” laughed Willow, “remember the first time we saw it, at the midnight premiere?”

“And we cheered so loud at the kiss scene that they almost kicked us out?” Buffy choked out, nearly doubled over.

Anya was the only one who looked unhappy. “Yeah, but now I owe Spike twenty bucks,” she grumbled.

Scully stretched closer to Mulder’s ear and murmured, “I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t survived after all.”

He squeezed her hand—which, she realized, he hadn’t let go of since she’d woken, and probably not for hours before that—and smiled. He turned so that his warm lips brushed against her hair. “I’d host a citywide drive-in screening, and make all the snacks and drinks myself, if it meant I could get you alone in the back seat.”

Scully’s chest fluttered, her blood fizzed, and she was grateful when Mulder cleared his throat, loudly, pulling the group’s attention to himself while she regained her composure. “Hey guys. What brings the whole Scoobie gang by?”

Giles stepped awkwardly from the group, revealing a bouquet of flowers hidden behind his back, marigolds and lavender and chamomile: flowers of health and healing. He set them down on Scully’s bedside table, then stood a small card beside the vase, bearing an alien in an Elizabethan recovery cone, bidding her get well soon. “We just wanted to see if you were all right, Miss Scully. You gave us all quite a scare,” he said gently. He put a fatherly hand on Mulder’s shoulder, as if to say some more than others .

“That’s very kind of you,” Scully told him, touched by the gesture, the concern. Later Mulder would tell her of the barely-contained panic that had passed through the group in the church as the light of the spell faded, how his freshly restored heart had cracked upon seeing her so pale and still, how Giles had run seven red lights on the way to the hospital; but even without knowing that, she saw the pain in Giles’ eyes—and the relief that, just this once, they wouldn’t be burying anybody.

They chatted for almost an hour: Willow, Tara, and Giles wanted a full recounting of her experience with the Morrígna, and Scully did her best, promising a more thorough report upon her release; Xander and Buffy peppered Mulder with questions about the changes he underwent, while Anya tried to explain that he should pay half her bet to Spike. “It’s your fault, anyway, you know. You and your lips.”

The whole time, his thumb never stopped drawing small, slow circles across the back of her hand. She ran her fingers along the ridge of the tendon in his wrist until she found his pulse, sweet and strong under her touch. When the group finally left, extracting promises of visits and emails and snarky insinuations of wedding invitations, Mulder pulled Scully back into his arms. He pressed a long, slow kiss to her hairline, inhaling the scent of her as she curled against his chest. For everything else the spell had done, it had left her exhausted, and she was just sinking back into the warm, fuzzy embrace of sleep when she heard him murmur, “I love you, too, Scully. In case you were wondering.”

She smiled, nodding against the soft cotton of his shirt. “I know.” And she drifted into sleep with the soothing beat of his heart, alive, and hers to keep—miracles both—beneath her cheek.

Honestly my only notes for this chapter were, "Bitch thought she could just die for him without ever telling him how she felt. Get loved, idiot." I don't write unhappy endings. These two deserve happiness - but I couldn't resist a little Scoobie cockblock. For their own good. They BOTH just got done being dead, after all. I may (okay will, eventually) write some post-ep sex for them, but let me get through Kinktober (and actual October festivities) first. The Scoobies saw Lazarus Bowl at least a dozen times. Xander absolutely makes them autograph his commemorative themed popcorn bowl before they go.

[eternalwritingstudent]

🍌 In your opinion, what’s the funniest joke/reference/pun you’ve made in a fic?

(from the ask tag!)

I have to be brutally honest and say I don't know. I've written so much over the years that I can't remember. I know I've written amusing stuff, but no examples come to mind.

There's one scene in Thief where Freedom is teasing Valric about some things he said in his sleep. It starts out pretty amusing. But that's the only thing I can think of off the top of my head. Here's part of the scene:

"Um… Valric? I appreciate the compliments, but we gotta go."

Valric's eyes popped open as I reached back and poked his ribs. "Mmm… what?"

His eyes met mine as I gazed back at him. It took a moment for the sleep to clear his mind and realize he'd cuddled up to me. His eyes grew wide, a blush spreading across his cheeks and neck. He bolted up, hitting the side of the tent.

"Whoa! You'll tear the tent down." I couldn't help laughing at his reaction as I reached out to keep him from falling backwards. I wasn't healed enough to be that fast.

He pitched backwards as the sand shifted beneath his feet. Arms wind milled as he plummeted backward. The tent spikes on my side pulled free from the sand and I found myself under the open night sky, a breeze blowing my sweat dampened hair. The sudden jerk of the tent had pulled the floors ties free from the tent, so I got to pleasantly sit, while Valric thrashed and yelled.

I laughed, the feeling and sound a relief after my awful waking. It was loud in the silent desert. Akira's tent opened. He was rubbing his face as he stepped out, watching the tent flailing through the sand.

"Don't ask. It's ridiculous."

"It looks that way." Akira walked towards me and the moving tent. "Wanna roll him up and leave him in there?"

"Don't tempt me, big man." I smirked at him. Nickname me, I could do it to him too. Of course he smiled and didn't seem to care.

I stood, shaking my head as I walked towards Valric, dusting the sand off. I kicked him in the hip, causing him to still.

"Are you done yet? We need to get moving." I couldn't keep the amusement out of my voice as he untangled himself from the material. "Now you get to sort it out and roll it back up."

He spilled out into the sand, face first. I let out a sharp laugh, unable to hold it in. When he lifted his head, it got worse, his thick lush beard was full of sand, as were his eyebrows. I waved my hand, turning away. I snorted, having to put my hand over my mouth and walk away. He spat sand, and I lost it again.

"Shut up." He spat a few more times as he stood and brushed himself off. "Did I say anything in my sleep?"

I shrugged, walking over to pull up the cover on the horses, wanting to feed and water them. I shouldn't tease him. If he knew I'd been crying cause he touched me, I'd never hear the end of it. Still, did I listen to my good sense? Not usually.

"You might have said something… baby." I glanced over at him. "Now, shhh, we have to go."

The red came back to his cheeks, and he groaned as he wiped more sand out of his beard. "I will never live this down."

[bubblin-trouble]

(no ur totally cool with the tag lol)

{ - meanwhile . . . - }

"I should pummel 'im raas into the goddamn grung! Do evriwan sum good, eh? Ahuu do he think he is? Messin' with me, like I can't rock 'is world."

Calypso twitched as she paced, around and around The Hall of Mirrors. Her wings flapped furiously, her new, sharp talon-like claws dug into her skin, drawing prickles of dark crimson blood. She felt like she was on fire - every inch of her. But that was okay.

She liked it better this way.

"Can't stay here no longer. Needa hunt. That bastard ‘as slipped tru my fingers one too many. ‘Im wants me to be compliant, eh? I’ll show ‘im who’s gonna be bowin’ down on their knees by the end’a this.”

A wide, manic grin spread across her face at her own words. What was this feeling, that she had experienced before faintly, but was now washing over her entire being like a hurricane wave? Ah, so that was it.

Rage. Sprinkled with a bit of bloodlust. Alright, and maybe just a bit of resentment.

But it felt good to be like this. Felt freeing. After all of this time, putting up with the bullshit she just took from everyone else…but that was no more. She was sure she had at least half of the student body hypnotized by now. The other half? They’d come around, maybe sooner or later. She’d find a way to get to them. After all, what’s an apex predator without its instincts?

Calypso’s feet seemed to move for her as she began to walk out of The Hall of Mirrors. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but her body did. She let her feet and wings be her guides.

She brushed and pushed past the hypnotized students, ignoring how some of them tried to follow her like mindless drones, before somehow emerging in front of the Seven statues. She studied them for a moment, with her head tilted to the side.

“Hmm. Maybe I misjudged you all at first. Or, maybe not. But I’ll hand it to y’all, it does feel good to have the power in your hands. Now…”

Calypso looked around for a moment, pleased to find that she was virtually alone. Then, she had an idea.

“Can’t get many viewpoints from down ‘ere…”

Her gaze drifted up to the high towers of the school, and she grinned again. She looked over her shoulder, at the dark feathers that now sprouted from her back.

“I s’pose I could…take these for a spin.”

She gave the wings a few tentative flaps, before she felt she finally got the hang of moving them. And, after a few moments, her feet lifted off of the cobblestone. Her heart soared and her veins filled with adrenaline, before she aimed upwards and beat her wings furiously towards the sky.

After what seemed like merely a few seconds, she perched herself on one of the towers.

“Faith, trust, and pixie dust, was it?”

She quoted with a laugh.

“Seems like a load of bull, to me. You ain’t need all of that to soar. You just gotta take that chance.”

Calypso let out a small laugh as she watched the campus below, her eyes scanning the students, under her spell or not, like little ants beneath her.

She wouldn’t do anything for a little longer, maybe just survey everything. Watch their movements. See through their strategies. Emerge top of the food chain.

Watch. Wait. Like a stone gargoyle on a cathedral. Waiting for someone to walk into her maw.

STUDENTS OF NRC:

WHATEVER YOU DO, DO NOT LISTEN TO HER MELODY. SHE IS TRYING TO LURE YOU TO HER. DO NOT GIVE INTO TEMPTATION.

SHIELD YOUR EARS. GUARD YOUR MINDS. SHE IS NOT HERSELF.

AVOID ANY INDIVIDUALS WITH A HYPNOTIZED GAZE, AND ESPECIALLY AVOID AREAS WHERE HER SONG IS HIGH IN VOLUME.

DO NOT LET HER CATCH YOU, SHE HAS NOT BEEN MERCIFUL THUS FAR.

GOOD LUCK, AND BE SAFE, STUDENTS.

Prefect??? Open up this instant! It's an emergency!

Yuna PLEASE let us in ASAP! It's not good out here!

*James knocked his fists against the door and Lewis stood behind him anxiously. Yuna opened up looking a bit frustrated, but also concerned for the odd behaviour as the two second years pushed their way in and slammed the door behind them. Lewis had his headphones tight on his head and James had on a custom pair of thick earplugs*

What's up, Squeaky? Hatter? You guys look like you've seen some shit. Is something wrong?

Something is MAD WRONG out there. Like crazy wrong- it's- I'm-

We were recording an episode for today and... There was some notification that came up on our phones. We didn't know of anything until it showed up. Thankfully the booth is soundproofed and so we had time to prepare but once we stepped outside it was total madness.

I think know what you're talking about. I've got headphones in myself to keep an eye on things but... I have no clue what's going on. James, you said it was madness out there? Is there anything you or Lewis might be able to tell me?

*Lewis was visibly shaking, his typically calm demeanor falling apart as he tried to compose himself*

We... We stepped outside and it was like we were about to get jumped. There were tons of students just... Mindlessly wandering about and their eyes were like... Totally fucked up? We didn't even get two steps outside of the studio before a group of em saw us and started chasing us like crazy.

We were going to return to... One of our dorms to try and escape the chaos but... The Hall of Mirrors was completely inaccessible due to the sheer volume of students acting off. We had no choice but to run until we thought of or found a safe place... (I still feel quite weak from using my unique magic so many times for not one but TWO people...)

Alright... Just... You two take a breather real quick then, hm? Im gonna have to go get something real quick...

*Yuna turned around and disappeared down a hallway as James and Lewis took a seat on a nearby couch*

*sigh* wonder who it is this time... Guess I can't have a moment of peace, can I?

*Yuna moved to a closet and fished around before pulling out her baseball bat and returning to the group*

How do you guys feel about helping me take out an Overblot, huh? I know you're a bit tired from running all over but... I can't really go do this alone? At least, that's what I promised.

*sigh* very well. Allow us a moment to rest for a bit and then we shall aid you however we can...

Wait we're seriously gonna go fight an overblot?

Well, what other choice do we have, Lewis? We can't just sit around and wait until we get attacked again...

I'll leave you two to figure that out... Just meet me by the door whenever you're ready, yeah?

(✨ @bubblin-trouble haiiiiiii hope u don't mind the tag but I loveeee Overblot arcs and I'm choosing my fighters teehee)