#i might commiserate big

[kiisuuumii]

Things will get better. Know your worth. Sometimes it’s hard to see, especially when you feel let down or unnoticed. Sometimes the best way to get what you want is to be open to it, no matter what form it comes in. You catch more fish with a net than a rod and line. Your talent and way with words does not go unnoticed, and your sensitivity is not a weakness. As a sensitive person, I too struggle with overwhelming emotions. It does however mean that when something feels good, it’s a deeper feeling than others will feel, and it also means your empathy is so strong that you will always be openly compassionate which will encourage others to do the same. You are capable of influencing others to do good deeds as well, and when you are able, the good you feel is incomparable. Focus on your light, what makes you happy by being you. Follow your bliss in yourself, then the need for another to make you happy will become less important. There are ways to create the love you so desire through writing. If you really see yourself in it and feel it for the thing you are writing of, no one can take that away.

-Sky Anon

its a bit of a curse, isnt it?—feeling so much, i mean. youre right though that that means we feel the good just as deeply. i know that things will get better, i'm not one to be so much of a pessimist that i start to really believe that things wont; i very much cling tightly to the probability, no matter how small, that ill one day live the life that i want, in the love that i want, with even more people who love and care about me for who i am, just like i want. one day the things i feel now (and maybe the things you feel now) will be just a memory; we wont remember how we felt, only that we did

i think that might be why i am the way i am in this moment, and lately (i promise im not usually so openly self-deprecating, this is just a particularly rougher patch lmao); i want to hold onto some of the feelings i have right now, for a little while longer, just to really feel them, until im spent. esp when it comes to trying to be open to other forms of the things i want. ive been trying to stay optimistic ofc, but i think if youre stuck on something, theres a reason for it; it wouldnt be smart for me at least to force myself open rn when there are things this closedness is probably trying to teach me

certainly doesnt mean im not trying to move forward tho ! if you can picture it, im always walking on a path forward, only looking back occasionally, while crying my heart out lol

also, one thing you might have a bit wrong about me is that i don't want someone to make me happy. id done a lot of looking for that in other people when i was younger, and as i separated myself from that version of me over the years, ive come to learn how to find and make happiness for myself (even if its not perfect, the way i do it, and even if it takes me a hot minute sometimes); i guess you could say im more looking for someone(s) to be happy with, to live life with, the good and the bad (even when i cant see past the bad at times), and that im trying to put aside some of my own feelings to make room for that

i feel like i sound condescending or dismissive, and im sorry if i do come across that way, but lowkey this helped me kinda see why i still havent let some things go despite my saying so; so thank you, sky anon, for taking the time to write such a heartfelt message !! i might not understand everything yet, but youve given me a piece of clarity thatll at least help me start

[nyaacatboy]

hey aros/aces of tumblr has anyone else figured out to express the sentiment "I hate it when people complain about being single to me" to allos without them launching into the perfectly valid ways in which they are unhappy with their singleness or conflating "complain about being single" with "talking about dating or being attracted to anyone."

[witchywithwhiskey]

in the woods with a couple of masked men

pairing: bucky barnes & steve rogers x female reader

summary: you've been flirting with steve rogers and bucky barnes for a month at the bar you all frequent with your friends, and on Halloween, when you tell them about your fantasy of being chased through the woods by masked men or men, they decide to make it a reality.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), threesome, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (m receiving), chase kink, mask kink, light bdsm, light degradation, praise kink, light choking, roughness, check-ins, pet names (baby, sweetheart, pretty girl, sweet girl) aftercare, halloween shenanigans

word count: 3.6k

a/n: this was my idea for my third and final halloween fic this year and i was really disappointed that i ran out of time to do a fully developed version, but i figured i'd put together something short and (hopefully) hot. this still ended up longer than i expected, but it's much shorter than my normal halloween fics so i hope that's ok 😅 happy (almost) halloween y'all!! ♡

halloween fics masterlist

"What do you want for Halloween, pretty girl?"

"I want a masked man—or men—to chase me through the woods and fuck me to within an inch of my life," you answered, a wicked smirk curling the corners of your mouth. 

Your eyes slid away from the men you were talking to, casting a glance around the dingy dive bar that was more crowded than normal on Halloween night. You cut your eyes back to them and lifted a single shoulder in an apathetic shrug, your smirk still flirting at the edges of your lips.

"Y'know, just what every girl wants for Halloween."

You were talking to Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, who you’d met a month before Halloween. One of their friends had started flirting with one of your friends at the bar you all liked to frequent, and as that relationship blossomed into more than flirting, you started seeing them more. 

You'd gravitated to the handsome best friends, unable to resist talking to them, drinking with them, commiserating with them as your friends grew more and more flagrant with their public displays of affection. Besides, Bucky and Steve hadn't seemed to mind the way you'd laugh at their jokes—even the not-so-great ones—or lean against them when you grew tired late into the night. 

Still, you didn't know what impulse had prompted you to tell them about your deepest, darkest fantasy. It must've been some deadly combination of loneliness and recklessness, and the ease you felt when you were around Steve and Bucky. But you couldn’t bring yourself to take it back. 

Not when the men reacted by sharing a look like they planning something. Just the thought that they might be thinking about indulging your fantasy made you squeeze your thighs together and lean into the heat emanating from them.

Of course, you were also a little chilly, having worn a skimpy little dress as part of your Halloween costume, but you leaned closer to Steve and Bucky in the crowded bar for warmth and to inhale the intoxicating scent of their cologne, which sent more curls of heat dancing through your veins. 

Without looking away from each other, their arms wrapped around you and they crushed you between their chests while they continued their silent conversation. You waited patiently, soaking up Bucky and Steve’s warmth until they turned to you, matching grins on their faces.

After a hushed conversation and a couple rounds of Steve and Bucky asking, "Are you sure you want this, sweet girl?" you found your friends and told them you were leaving with the men. 

You told your friends you had your phone on you and promised to keep your location turned on, to check in when you were on your way home. Your friends cackled happily for you and shooed you off with Bucky and Steve. 

When you got to the woods, Steve and Bucky each slipped on a Ghostface mask. Your breath caught in your lungs when you saw the big, muscled men dressed in all black and wearing the masks, your heart beating faster in your chest as excitement and desire churned in your belly. 

One of them said they were giving you a 30-second head start, so you turned and bolted into the trees, running as fast as you could to put as much distance between you and them in the short time they’d given you. But only 10 seconds later, you heard them start to chase you. 

You didn't have the breath to call out and accuse them of cheating, you were too focused on making the game as hard for them as possible. So you ran harder through the woods, losing them in the spindly trees cast in shades of silvery blue by the light of the moon.

For long moments, you ran without hearing anything behind you. You didn't know if you were truly giving Bucky and Steve a run for their money or if they were playing with you, but you didn't hear them chasing you until your lungs were burning and your legs were aching. 

All at the same time, you heard a twig snap, the rustle of leaves. A hand snatched at your skimpy little dress, snapping it against your skin when you pulled out of their grasp. A grunt of frustration sounded as a scream welled in your throat, but you couldn't let it loose through your panting, gasping breaths as you ran on. 

Fingers closed around your wrist and you shrieked in surprise, whirling around to wrench yourself free as you ran, turning to look over your shoulder and catching a glimpse of the eerie white Ghostface mask with its yawning, wide open mouth. 

That glance you spared for your pursuer would be what got you caught—the first time.

With your head turned to look over your shoulder, you didn't see where you were going, and you crashed right into a big, hard chest. You bounced off it with your momentum, but strong arms wound around your waist, holding you pinned to the warm body pressed flush to your curves.

"Got you, baby," came a muffled voice through the mask.

You couldn't for the life of you tell which man it was, whether it was Bucky or Steve. Although, it didn’t really matter to you, your body burned with desire for each of them equally. 

"What're you gonna give me to let you go?” the man taunted, his mask tipping down in such a way that you knew his eyes were dragging down to your cleavage, which was in danger of spilling out over the low neckline of your dress. "C'mon, slut, you look like you know how to please a man—so please me, and I'll let you go."

Arousal swirled through your body at the degrading way he spoke to you—you’d told Steve and Bucky back at the bar that you liked a little degradation and you were pleased that they were running with it. You couldn't help the impish smirk that spread across your face in response to the man’s filthy request.

"You're right, dirty man, I know exactly what to give you," you purred running your hands down the man's chest and trying to catch his eye through the mask. 

Staring into the spooky visage of the Ghostface mask, you began lowering yourself to your knees and the man helped guide you down. His hands worked open the front of his jeans, undoing them and pulling out his cock while you settled on the cold, leaf-covered ground.

Without preamble, you sucked the man's half-hard cock into your mouth, relishing the way he groaned above you. His hands cradled your head, petting you idly while you licked along the velvety soft shaft, humming happily as you felt him harden against your tongue. He tasted musky, his scent filling your senses and making you gush with wetness between your thighs.

The man’s moans were loud in the forest as you bobbed on his cock, sucking him harder and faster and pushing him closer to his release. Distantly, you wondered where the other man was, but didn't concern yourself overmuch with it as you focused on making the man in front of your cum.

When you could feel that he was just about to let go, his thick cock throbbing against your tongue, you pulled away and broke free from his hold, leaping to your feet and darting off into the woods. His ferocious, frustrated roar followed you through the trees and you couldn't help the cackling laughter that tumbled from your lips as you ran.

Immediately, you could hear the man crashing through the underbrush after you and you had to wonder if he'd even paused to put his cock away before bolting after you. 

It seemed you hadn’t learned your lesson, because you risked a glance over your shoulder, trying to get a peak of whether he was chasing you with his cock out, and at that moment, a hand reached out and grabbed your arm, towing you into another strong, broad chest.

"What'd you do to him, sweetheart?" came another muffled voice as the second man pinned your back against a tree, caging you in with his thick arms.

You couldn't help but laugh as you told him how you'd left the other man with his cock out and throbbing with need, teetering on the edge of his release. From behind his eerie Ghostface mask, the man in front of you tsked, shaking his head slowly, almost like he pitied you.

"You're gonna pay for that, pretty girl," he murmured in a husky, muffled voice. His hands slid down the sides of your body, making you shiver at the way he groped you softly, reverently. He was cupping your tits and squeezing your hips in a way that made your body hum with heat as he said, "If you're a good girl for me, maybe I'll convince him to go easy on you."

Warm palms skimmed down the outside of your thighs, fingers curling in the hem of your dress before pushing it up higher and higher… 

You almost wanted to give in, to be good for him. Almost.

Instead, you scoffed, "Yeah, right,” and shoved roughly against the man's muscled chest. Though he barely budged, the movement dislodged his hands from your body and you managed to slip away from him, taking off again into the woods.

The man's loud laughter followed you, which was even more deliciously terrifying than the other man's roar had been. 

Fleeing from both of the men, you tried to run harder, but you were growing tired—both of running and the game.

It was a good thing, then, that you didn't get far. 

It seemed Bucky and Steve were sick of the game as well, because only a few seconds after the man’s laughter died in the night sky, a large body crashed into your back, tackling you to the forest floor. 

Whoever caught you wound an arm around your waist and braced a hand against the ground so you didn't get hurt, but you still landed with a soft, "oof," of surprise. The body at your back covered you with its weight, pushing you deeper into the cold, damp leaves blanketing the dirt.

"I'm gonna make you regret leaving me like that, slut," said a gruff, menacing voice in your ear. A hand was pushing up your dress and ripping your panties down your legs while another was fumbling with a zipper, his knuckles grazing your bare ass. 

The head of a cock grazed your folds, which were drenched with your desire, and your fingers sank into the soft soil beneath you as you arched into him, biting back a desirous moan. The man's hand grabbed your waist, leaning over you so the cold plastic of the Ghostface mask butted into your shoulder. 

"You good, pretty girl?" he rumbled, his voice gentler as he checked in with you.

Your body, which had been tense an intoxicating mix of fear and arousal, relaxed at the question and you smiled, turning your head to catch the man's eye through the mesh of the mask. You shot him a playful smirk.

"Fuck me hard, filthy man," you purred, arching beneath him and pushing against the hard ridge of his cock so it slid through your slippery folds. "Show me how a dirty little slut like me deserves to be fucked."

The man groaned, shifting his hips so he could sink into your wet heat with one thrust, wringing a cry from your lips as his thick girth stretched your tight cunt. When his hips were pressed flush with your ass, he paused and you both took a moment to breathe and adjust to the feel of him inside your pussy.

You didn’t know if the other man had been watching you, timing it perfectly, but it was at that exact moment that he stepped in front of you, dropping down onto his knees as he undid the button and fly of his jeans. He spread his thick thighs and sank down onto his haunches so his cock was level with your face when he pulled it out. 

"Why don't you show me what that pretty mouth can do, sweet girl," the man cooed, his voice distractingly patronizing even muffled through the mask. "Be a good girl and suck my cock while your pussy gets pounded."

You didn't need any more encouraging than that, lifting yourself up onto your arms so you could lick along the thick ridge on the underside of the man's cock, smirking when he groaned. 

"Ya like that, perv?" you teased in between pressing wet, suckling kisses to the velvet-wrapped steel of his shaft. "Like getting your cock played with by a slut you caught in the woods?" 

"Fuck yes," he groaned, cupping your head in his hands and urging you closer to the tip. You wrapped your lips around the head, enjoying the taste of his precum leaking onto your tongue, and sucked him hard. "Oh fuck, your mouth feels so fucking good, sweetheart."

You'd planned to tease the man's tip a little longer, but the man behind you seemed to be done letting you adjust to having two cocks in your holes. He pulled his hips back and slammed inside you again, burying his full length in your pussy and pushing you forward, forcing you to take the other man deeper. 

The cock in your mouth brushed against the back of your throat and you gagged at the unexpected feeling. The man in front of you sat back quickly, pulling free of your lips and letting you suck in air while you coughed and recovered.

"Careful, dickhead," he growled, his voice still muffled through his mask so you couldn't tell whether he was Steve or Bucky. His hands idly stroked the top of your head and you found yourself leaning into the soft gesture.

"Sorry," the other man mumbled, his hands squeezing your hips apologetically.

"No, no, I want it rough," you said in a husky voice, straining your body to get your mouth back on the cock in front of your face. You pressed a kiss to the underside of the man's length, looking up at him from under your lashes. "I told you not to hold back—I want everything you can give me, please.” 

"Fuck," the man in front of you grunted at the same time the man behind you groaned, starting to thrust into you slowly, making you feel every inch of his cock dragging along the inside of your pussy. The man who'd spoken stroked his fingers down your cheeks, catching a tear that had escaped when you'd gagged. "You're gonna spoil us, sweet girl, letting us use your pretty holes like that."

"Good," you said firmly, before swirling your tongue around the tip of his cock, moaning at the taste of him. You couldn’t wait to swallow his cum, to be filled of both of them. “Then maybe you guys will do this again with me."

"Fuck yes we will, baby," the man behind you groaned, covering you with his body and pinning you into the forest floor while his hand wrapped loosely around the front of your throat. His mask bumped against your cheek as he spoke in your ear. "We'll fuck you anytime and anywhere you want, pretty girl—all ya gotta do is ask."

A delirious smile curved your lips and you were just about to make some sassy comment, but then he thrust hard into your pussy, wrenching a sharp cry from your mouth as pleasure spiraled through your body. The other man used the opportunity of your parted lips to thrust his cock inside your mouth, careful not to go too deep. 

Steve and Bucky worked your body in tandem, one of them pinning you to the cold ground and fucking you from behind, while the other held your head steady and fucked your mouth. All you could do was take everything they gave you, never knowing which one was which, moaning as they pushed you to the edge of pleasure.

You were writhing on the ground, your hands grasping at the damp leaves and the thick, jeans-clad thighs of the man in front of you, searching for something to hold onto as your pleasure spiraled higher. You were arching your back to take the cock deeper into your pussy, whining pitifully as you begged wordlessly for your release, unable to control yourself when you were so desperate to cum.

The men must've understood because they hauled you up onto your hand and knees, never removing their cocks from your holes. As they continued to fuck you, they positioned your body so that the man behind you could slip his hand between your thighs and find your needy, aching clit.

"Cum for us, slut," he growled in your ear. 

The other man thumbed the tears from your cheeks as he pushed his cock deep into your mouth. He'd opened your throat enough for him so you didn't gag too much, but he fucked you through it anyway, until his cock was rubbing against the other man's hand as it bulged in your neck. 

"Be a good girl, sweetheart, and cum on our cocks," the man in front of you urged, his balls pushing against your chin as he buried himself in your mouth and groaning when your muscles contracted as you swallowed around him. "Wanna feel you scream on my dick."

"Yeah, baby, gotta feel your sweet cunt milk me," the other man groaned into your ear, rubbing your clit unrelentingly while he pounded into you hard enough you could hear the sharp sounds of his hips smacking against your ass. "C'mon, don't you want us to fill your holes with our cum—cum for your masked men, sweet girl.”

You didn't know what tipped you over the edge—whether it was the muffled, filthy words or the fingers on your clit, or the pair of cocks ruthlessly fucking your holes—but something set you off, and you came harder than you ever had before.

A shrieking scream worked its way up inside you, making the man in front of you moan loudly when your throat constricted around his hard length. The man behind you grunted as your pussy clenched on his cock, and he buried himself to the root, moaning at the feel of your inner walls sucking him in deeper.

Pleasure consumed your mind thoroughly, overwhelming you entirely as your body trembled violently. You tried to stay in position for the men, but you knew it was their hands more than your own strength holding you up as the ecstasy of your release wrecked you.

The man in front of you came first, holding your head pinned to his abdomen and spilling his seed down your throat while you swallowed weakly, some of it spilling out around the shaft of his cock and joining the spit and tears making a mess of your face. 

The other man followed a moment later, pressing his hips flush against your ass and coming with a filthy groan, his mask pressed to your shoulder blade and his arms wrapped around your waist while you felt his cock twitch deep inside you.

In the cold, dark forest on Halloween night, the three of you rode out your pleasure together for long, hazy moments. But when the chill of the air seeped into your cooling skin and you began to shiver, Bucky and Steve pulled themselves free from your body and gathered you up in their strong arms. 

Together, they helped you stand, fussing around you as they fixed your dress and tugged leaves from your hair. One of them draped a hooded sweatshirt around your shoulders while the other used your discarded panties to clean the mess from between your thighs.

You'd lost track of who was who as they circled around you to clean you up, so even when Steve and Bucky pulled off their Ghostface masks, you didn't know which of them had fucked your mouth and which had fucked your pussy. 

You didn't care overmuch, it was fun not knowing. Besides, you knew if you asked, they'd tell you which man was which.

"Doing good, pretty girl?" Steve cooed sweetly, dropping his lips to kiss your cheek. His fingers smoothed away the grit of your ruined makeup, making you smile.

"Yeah, so good," you said in a dreamy, breathless voice, catching his eye so he could see the honesty in your gaze when you told him, "Best Halloween ever." 

Bucky chuckled at your statement and tucked you into his side beneath his arm, turning you in a direction you assumed would bring you back to the car they’d driven out to the woods.

"Let's get you home, sweet girl," Bucky murmured, brushing a kiss against your temple while Steve slid in on your other side, his arm wrapping around your waist. They held you clutched between their bodies, and you felt nothing but warm, sated and happy. "You've had your halloween fun with your two masked men, now it's time to rest."

"Yes, sir," you said on an exhale. Though you'd been trying for a playful tone, your voice was soft and sweet and you found you meant it. You trusted them to take care of you, and you let your head fall on Steve's shoulder, snuggling into him while you let the best friends guide you back to the car.

Once Bucky had tucked you into his lap on the passenger’s seat, you texted your friends to let them know you were ok while Steve drove you home. The men helped you inside and, at your request, stayed the night, cuddling up with you in your bed. 

That night, you fell asleep with a smile on your face snuggled between Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes knowing you got what every girl wants (or, at least, what you wanted): some fun in the woods with a couple of masked men—and a Halloween night to remember.

halloween fics masterlist

[faeriekit]

#attempted murder for the ask game! 🌱

"...So I'm dead now," Danny ends his story, face in his hands.

"You were dead before this," Sam points out. She takes a bite out of her perfectly carved celery sticks.

"I know, but now I'm dead dead," Danny groans, earning a pat on the back from Tucker. "Like. Dash pushed me off a bridge. And sure, it was an accident, but come on! There's no way I could survive that if I wasn't...me! I can't, like, reappear after that! I should have been a goner!"

"I mean, it was probably an accident," Tucker adds encouragingly, continuing the patting. It's well meant but not helpful in the slightest. Danny groans.

"Congrats on faking your death by accident," Sam says through her celery. She offers Danny a celery stick in commiseration. He eats it, but it tastes like nothing. "Have any big plans?"

"I dunno. Die?"

"You did that already," Tucker and Sam point out.

Danny puts his face in his hands. "I... Did he even report me? Did he even report that he probably killed me? Like...to anyone?"

Tucker pulls out his newest PDA, Pollyanna. A few taps of the stylus. Some scrolling "...Nah, dude. No news, no cops. Legally, you're still alive."

And they sit there, in Sam's room, in silence, wondering how one of their classmates managed to mostly get away with murder.

"...Think he'll cry if you show up to school tomorrow like nothing happened?" Sam mutters, more out of spite than anything.

Everyone looks at each other.

"...Ten bucks," Tucker says.

"No bet. I do the scary eyes and he probably pisses his pants," Danny snorts.

"It's a deal," Sam decides. "All in on making Dash have a mental breakdown?"

Hands go in. One, two, three— Danny and Tucker whoop as their three hands go up, the two high-fiving as Sam holds in her cackle.

"Jazz is going to kill us," Danny snickers, almost guilty.

"After Dash killed you? Please. If anything, Jazz might fetch the Jack O' Nine Tails and kill him first."

[after-nine-at-the-oasis]

OOOP o.o

Is that her husband or smth o.o bc I'm doubting brother

Oh okay step brother

Why do I feel there's a but coming

WAIT NO HE'S HER HUSBAND :OO ಠoಠ

SHE'S MARRIED TO HER STEPBROTHER???!

Oh wait no he just means she has one lol

Took me a half second to register what him being here husband meant with the brother thing and then another second to realize it actually didn't XD

Ahh okay untraditional marriage aight

I mean any character would have an issue with this as a plot or at least Something with it, yk, but Owen being Owen. . . Hmm, better be careful my man xD

Dang it is big

WAIT WHAT O.O

Oh okay it's just a tub thing

Ohhh noo o.o that doesn't look good

Btw flashbacks to the Hildy episode of OG anyone?

Anyway

But yeah o.o HOURS? Baaaad stuff o.o

UH OH

He was just standing there bc he was FROZEN wasn't he o.o

YUUUP OHHH NOOO 😳😳😬😬😬

That ain't good that ain't good 😬 :(

I mean I do hope he survived

Uh oh 😬

WAIT WHAT IS THAT LOOK

Or those looks I guess

O.O

He'll probably be okay xd

Maybe lol

But still o.o daaang 😳😬

That's the last of my last thoughts! Now it's time for the. . .

REVIEW

I LOOOVED this episode! I thought it was amazing :D. Marjan episodes are always so good, and with a side of Tarlos? Masterpieces 😌. Anyway!! The calls were great this episode - YESSSS karma for that couple from the trailer and ensuing suing incident >:) (lol yes I said ensuing suing on purpose) - and I really liked the plotlines!! I'm a bit nervous for next time o.o. Like, I don't care THAT much about Owen's love life, but it's fun anyway :). Also I feel like the second hand embarrassment will be strong with this one xd. Anyway though! This episode was great, and even though I love drama, I liked how it didn't have too much :) 🥰.

Also, once again, though it's several hours earlier, this is being written the same day as the airing of the next episode xd. Everything after the first sentence of the review is being written now lol. I do have a fair amount of time, so it probably won't be shorter because of time constraints, but it may be shorter because of motivation and memory lol. I have to run a light board after/maybe even during this (probably after though), I need to have energy. But I may get wrapped up in it and not just so my basic thoughts! Who knows :). Or maybe I just won't have much to say lol. Anyway! Onward :).

Now it's time for the individual parts!

Grace! We didn't see much of her this episode, but she slayed :D. She did great at her job, as always 🥰. I'm only partially sure we even physically saw her this episode - I think we did, but it wasn't till later? I don't quite remember XD. Anyway! I love her <333.

Judd! He was great this episode :). Again, we didn't see him too much, but he was great for what we did :). And of course he was great at his job ❤️. I love him :D.

Mateo and Nancy! Putting them together because we mostly saw them together this episode. Anyway, they were great this episode 🥰🥰. I love our little Nanteo moments :DD. Like their scene giving advice to Marjan? SO CUTE 🥰🥰. And at the restaurant too XDD. Well, we never saw them eat, so it may have just been like a tea house. Anyway! Mateo becoming friends with that guy was hilarious XD. I love him lol <3. And Nancy just sitting there like :'), then being like POPCORN, Mateo!! XD. I mean that's not literally what she said but yk the vibes xD. I love her lol <3. Anyway! They were both great at their jobs this episode 🥰. I love them lol.

Owen! He was great this episode :). Him also becoming besties with the date XD. Just a different one lol. That's not the entire reason he was great, it's separate from the first season. Also his advice was good, but his attachment to rutabaga was hilarious XDD. So sorry Owen lol <333. Anyway! I love him 🥰. He was great at his job too :). But yeah, I just love Owen being the comedic relief half the time lol.

Paul! I love him 🥰🥰. Him literally shoving Marjan to talk to the PT guy was amazing XD. Also of course his advice giving with Owen was great too lol 🥰. Also it's really sweet that he and Asha invited Marjan over for dinner :). He is a great bestie 😌. Also AAAHHHH he and Asha are officially a thing :DD. That's great 🥰🥰🥰. Lovely <33. Anyway, he was great at his job this episode :D.

Marjan! I LOVE HER SO MUCHHH :DD <333!! She was amazing this episode <333. I love how she didn't compromise on what she wanted - like, yk, she wanted a Muslim man, a chaperone, etc. Just because I feel like a lot of shows play down people's religions and, in relation, cultures with that kind of thing. But they didn't :)). Also I saw someone else mention it and yeah, it was nice seeing Marjan dating for the first time as an adult (and not just like, 20) :). I personally haven't been in that situation but I do know it isn't portrayed a lot so that was nice :). Anyway! I just LOVED that montage lol XD. It was amazing XD. And seeing everyone giving her advice and chaperoning was so sweet :)) 🥰. Also the fact that the guy was CHEATING ON HIS WIFE :OOO??!?!! AND MARJAN KINDA XDD?!?!! Several people lol. WILD! Also Marjan slayed on that scene though 🥰. Like the scene of the call/incident lol. She was great at her job this episode 🥰🥰. And YESSSS revenge on those people >:DDD!! More like karma LOL xD. Anyway! AAHHHH I'm so happy she got with the physical therapist :D. I mean, I don't care much about him specifically, I'm just really happy for her :)). Ik she didn't really get with him, but she asked him out and it was great :DD. I wish them the best :)). Also he better not hurt my girl 😤 xdd. But yeah, she slayed so hard this episode :D. I love her ❤️❤️.

OKAY I HAD LESS TIME THAN I THOUGHT SO I'LL COME BACK TO EDIT THIS LATER THE SHOW'S ABOUT TO START - I came back and added a ton to Marj's lol

TK and Carlos! LOVE THEM! BE BACK LATER LOL - I'm back xD. Before I even just said Tarlos lol, but I felt like putting their names now xD. Anyway! They were great this episode :D. That montage in the beginning was AMAZING!! It was hilarious xDD. And also AAHHH the reassurances beforehand 🥰🥰🥰. I bet they'll end up choosing somebody we know though. Anyway! Now to the meat of it xD: the kids discussion lol. I am definitely surprised Carlos doesn't want kids, but seeing the reason I'm not. Like, I was, but having heard what he said I am no longer surprised xD. It's completely valid, and even if Andrea disagrees, he really didn't have a similar relationship with his dad as TK did. I love Gabriel and Carlos, but there was a lot of tension there. I do think he would be a good father, but if he doesn't feel ready, that's completely okay. It's understandable! Even if he never feels ready. And being completely honest, I do want them to have kids xD! And I do hope Carlos is ready one day. But I respect his decision :). Because seriously, they're both equally valid! TK is perfectly validated in wanting to have kids.

Which is why the thing I really loved about this storyline is it really wasn't one of them convincing the other. I feel like most storylines revolving around kids or no kids are like that - either the no kids person is convinced to want kids or vice versa. But I really don't feel like that's what happened here. This was a mutual "We care about each other. We want each other in our lives more than anything, and that's all that matters right now. This isn't a make or break issue for us. And maybe, we will revisit it down the line." Because that's the conclusions they came to - "I love him". And you could say "oh well it's not the middle choice it's what Carlos wants" but like, it's the less permanent thing to revisit having kids later WITHOUT KIDS LOL. You can't as easily have kids and then decide "nah" xD. But like I said; I still think it's a possibility for the future. And honestly, I think this was a smart writing decision. It means they don't have to commit to one right now - they can decide later. And not only can they decide later, they can use the revisiting the discussion as a storyline later! Even if they decide not to have kids, there's still another plot in it. Anyway, I just really liked and appreciated how it was handled <33.

I may put that in its own post later but anyway lol. Now past the serious, analytical portion and onto my FEELINGS :DD 😭!! XD Not a bad sobbing lol. Anyway! LISTENNNN I just love them so much :'DD. Also AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH CARLOS GOT TK A LIZARDDDD!!!! HE GOT HIM A BEARDED DRAGONNN :DDD!!! A A A H H H H H THAT IS SO C U T E!!!!Also YES I was wondering while watching if they would name him Lou 2 XD. I guess we'll have to see if it's gonna be Lou 2 or Louis the Second LOL! Because seriously him escaping was hilarious XD. Carlos just like ":'). Help me :))))))" XDDD. This poor man lol, someone help him xD. Also as I said in my liveblog I NEED him to just randomly be referenced xDD. Either to be treated like their (human) child (as in as if he were not like they have a child and they're treating him like that child xD) or to just be one of those Things lol. Like, TK in the background or end of a conversation but the beginning a scene: . . . Yeah he got out AGAIN and we didn't even bother this time :/" XDD. PLEASE FOX!! MR. TIM MINEAR!!! I need it XD. Anyway, I LOOOVED their conversations with Owen and Andrea!!!! They were so good :'D. I love their relationships so much <3333. Plus Andrea making fun of Carlos in a "be fr" way was gold XDD. And TK, right after a really sweet and genuine part of Carlos and Andrea's conversation: I blame you personally." Slay my boy XDD. I mean he said something like that lol. Anyway, it was just great, and I loved how it was spliced together - it also made for some really nice parallels. And AAHHHHHH TWO KISSES IN ONE EPISODE :DDD!!! YESSSS SLAYY WE DESERVE IT :DD 🥰🥰🥰.

By the way, there's this thing that, in some form or another, has kind of been running through my mind (or repeatedly popping up for a while lol) like all week: Carlos is scared he won't be a good dad, because of his trauma. TK is scared, because of his trauma, that he won't be a good dad. Does that make sense? XD. I just remember seeing someone say that TK reacts immediately with thinking that Carlos is doubting his ability to be a father, which is in character for him and makes sense given his past. They might've said something about Carlos too, I don't remember, I just keep thinking about this. For a little expansion on it lol, TK jumps to those conclusions because of his trauma, and who he is. Carlos is scared that due to his trauma, he won't be a good dad. That his trauma is what would make him a bad father, meanwhile TK's trauma is what makes him scared. Idk, it's hard to explain xD, and it's not a perfect little bit, but it kinda makes sense to me, I guess. Idk lol.

Anyway! I did not I had that much to say about them xD. I probably will put my little analysis bit in a separate post as well, I think it deserves it lol. But yeah! They were great this episode :)), I really loved their storyline. And I've seen several people say this but YESS, I'm glad it wasn't like, a fight!! It was just a discussion :)). And that was great, I loved it <33. Also idk about that proof that TK can cook - sus xD. But that was super sweet :')). As was Carlos getting the bearded dragon (since we don't know if his name was decided I'm saying that lol) of course :'DD. Anyway! They were both great at their jobs this episode :)). I love them 🥰🥰. Also, I will say that even though it wasn't a fight this disagreement was still stressful 😭😭❤️. Not too bad and I LOVED it, the plotline and all that, but still xD. How could they do this to me 😭 xD. Anyway, yeah, it was amazing 🥰🥰🥰. I'm so glad they worked everything out :))). And yeah honestly I don't think they should go with any of those officiants xD. Maybe the lady who was saying ask those hard questions, but eh xD. I saw someone say Paul and yeah I'm rooting for him :D. Or any of their friends really lol. Coming back with another edit because I JUST REALIZED (due to the title of a clip I saw while watching Tarlos clips xD) that PAUL SAID HE'S ORDAINED!!! That's why people said it XDD. I don't know HOW I missed those parts of that scene but I did xDD. Anyway AAHHHHH SLAYYYY!!!!! I love that so much, it better happen :D. They wouldn't just drop that in there for nothing ;)). Unless MAYYYBE it's to bring up that someone else can do it but I don't think so lol, when Paul already can xD. Also the fact that TK was telling that whole story xD 🥰. I hope he gave a rundown of each one because that would be hilarious lol.

Overall, LOVED IT! Okay back to edit this too lol. I LOVED this episode! I thought it was great :D. I really liked all the storylines, and the calls were great too :). Like I said, a Marjan and Tarlos episode always slays lol. But seriously, it was a great episode. Drama, a bunch of humor, and some really sweet and lovely scenes :'DD. Plus, Nanteo crumbs and Tarlos are always bonuses 🥰. And Paul and Asha!!! YAYYY :DD. I'm a bit nervous for the next time o.o. Like I said, I'm not THAT invested in Owen's love life, but I don't find much of a point in not even trying to enjoy it, so eh :). It's not like I feel nothing though lol. I just might not take it as serious as if it were someone else xD. Anyway, I'm also sure I'll get bad second hand embarrassment xD. I'm excited too though! Also, one last time, I loved the date montage from today xD. Not just Marjan, and the guys, either, but everyone else's reactions too XD. And Owen and Mateo loving those two dudes LOL. Amazing :)).

So yeah! I really enjoyed this episode, I thought it was amazing. I'm excited for next time! This has been my review of. . .

9-1-1: Lone Star, Season 4: Episode 12: Swipe Left

It was great! I'm excited for the next episode, but nervous for it as well. I'll be back next week for my review of. . .

9-1-1: Lone Star, Season 4, Episode 13: Open

See you next week!

[alchemistc]

i present my latest offering of an au first meeting: the poker game.

Big Blind

Tommy's been on plenty of bad dates in his time, but this one might actually take the cake for worst first date he's ever had. They're just -- not right for one another, and it's clear they can both feel it, but for some reason Jeff just -- keeps talking. About his border collie rescue, and his sixth fourteener (this year), and the his upcoming promotion and the Cybertruck he's thinking about getting wrapped in matte black --

"Jeff," Tommy cuts in, when he starts in on Tesla stock talk. "I'm gonna pay the check and head out. It's been..." he gestures. Considers calling Stout right here at the dinner table to tell him no more blind dates with his stock broker brother-in-laws friends, no matter how gay they are.

He's gonna get shit from Stout's wife the next time she stops by with a casserole, but honestly a half-hour tirade on politeness from Heather Alexandra Stout sounds better than learning how much of an Elon Musk fanboy Jeff really is. Jeff looks like he might be offended by the implication that he wouldn't have paid, but Tommy's already waving down his server and gesturing to the bar by the time Jeff even thinks to reach for his wallet.

"You have a good night."

Andrea slides his check under his elbow with a raised brow and doesn't say a word when he hands her his card immediately, but he can tell she's judging him. Third date in a month he's barely contained his disdain for long enough to pay up, although this is the first he's outright ditched before the bill was even paid.

Gary slides a beer across the bar to him and refuses the cash Tommy tries to give him for it. "Do I look that pathetic, Gary?"

Man of few words, Gary just taps his nose and tips his chin to his date, who is doing a terrible job of trying to sneak out the door.

"You're too good for him, anyway," says Andrea, back already with his card. He tucks an extra twenty into her folder and downs the beer in silence while they watch through the window as Jeff seems to get into an argument with the Uber pulling up in front of the restaurant.

"Maybe it's me," Tommy says, and Gary hums in commiseration. Or maybe he just has gas. "Maybe I'm the problem."

It's been a string of bad dates, and before that a relationship that'd gone up in metaphorical but nearly literal flames. Tommy's spent a lot of introspective time wishing he could kill Gerrard with lasers so that he doesn't have to blame himself for staying in the closet so long that blind dates and Grindr meetups were his real introduction to the dating scene.

"Someday, Tommy, you'll meet someone who can't get enough of your morbid humor and your pessimism and your obsession with haunted cars."

"One car," Tommy argues, although that's beside the point. "I think maybe I should give the search for love a break, Gary."

Gary hums, again.

Tommy drinks the rest of his beer in companionable silence and pulls up his phone to order an Uber himself. Jeff is, thankfully, long gone, and Tommy's halfway through confirming his home address when he remembers the invite he'd received last week that he'd hesitated scheduling a date around. He shoots off a text instead, and updates the address before he slides from the bar stool.

Gary shoots him a look. "Headed home?"

Tommy shifts on his feet. Shoots a look behind the bar. "Nah. Gonna try to hit up a work thing. Pour me a shot of Tullamore for the road?"

Gary accepts the twenty this time and doesn't make a comment about the way Tommy downs a sipping whiskey, which Tommy appreciates.

He's halfway to his destination, enjoying the chat with his driver, when the text comes in from Lucy.

Had to bail, but you should go if the date went that badly. Williams will enjoy slowly ruining the remainder of your night.

Tommy taps his phone once, twice, three times before he makes up his mind not to be the asshole who changes his destination halfway through the ride. Worst comes to worst, he'll tap out early and Venmo Mehta the rest of his stake.

Better than moping at home with the pint of freezer-burned Ben and Jerry's.

-----

He's fairly rushed down the stairs once he's in, because apparently Williams is on some sort of time crunch, or something, and he's fairly certain the drinks are catching up to him as he takes in the table. Mehta and Wilson are regulars, and he's seen Rosen around, but there are two new guys settling in across the table and Tommy has to take a long, long moment to remind himself this is technically a professional setting before he can look too closely at either one of them.

Yeah. Shit, he'd definitely drank most of that second pitcher by himself, listening to Jeff talk.

"Kinard. We weren't expecting you." Rosen's eyes glimmer with amusement. He'd caught maybe six months of her probationary year, but every time she sees him she likes to remind him of the first time she'd seen him post-transfer, at a gay bar in WeHo, and introduced him to the first guy he'd dated seriously in his entire life. Tommy returns the favor by reminding her exactly how terribly that had ended for all parties. "Poker night dress code usually includes more buttons than date night," she jabs, finger circling the olives in her martini glass, and Tommy contemplates tossing one of Mehta's chips at her. Her grin goes wide.

With the momentary distraction, Tommy feels a little more prepared to face the two men now eyeing him curiously.

"Tommy," he says, leaning over the table, hand out to shake. Turtleneck raises a curious eyebrow when Mr. Red Velvet Smoking jacket practically leaps across his lap to shake back. "I'm over at 217."

"This is Eddie," Red Velvet introduces, and Tommy's gaze dances between them, curious. "I'm Evan. We're with the -- wait, 217 -- Chimney's Tommy?"

Tommy's brows dance up the same time as Eddie's do. He is still shaking hands with Evan. Or - holding is more accurate, he supposes, but for the sake of his sanity and the possible date Evan and Eddie are on, if he's reading the introduction or any of the vibes right (they're both stunning and Tommy is smarting from another shitty date, so who knows), Tommy keeps it to shake in his mind. "Well I don't think Howie can claim ownership of my person, but -."

"Sorry, no, I just meant..." Evan's gaze drops to their clasped hands, still now over the felt of the poker table. He gives one more firm pump and drops Tommy's hand. "We're both at the 118. Pretty sure you helped save this guy's ass once." He tips a thumb sideways to indicate the man he'd introduced as Eddie.

Tommy's eyes drift. He's had a few drinks, and up until about halfway through the date he'd been expecting a very different outcome for his night, so he's maybe not keeping a lid on things the way he normally would in a work setting. He's guessing the ass he's purported to have saved would look great, if it weren't firmly planted in his chair and out of view. The rest of the view ain't bad, either.

And.

Shit.

Williams is giving him a look, which means he's not being even a little subtle. "The gas main explosion," Tommy finally gathers from the cobwebs of his brain, and wouldn't it be his luck to transfer out of the 118 just in time for two annoyingly attractive men who may possibly be boning each other to take his place.

Evan grins. Beams, more like, and Tommy slides firmly into his own chair and tries not to be blinded by it. Or entranced by it. God he needs to get laid. Get this - whatever this is - out of his system.

Tommy's cool. Tommy's calm and collected and he hadn't even had that much to drink, actually, so why is he having such a hard time behaving like he's had forty years of experience dealing with attractive men?

Tommy sorts through the memories.

Eddie he can pinpoint fairly easily -- he'd shot off a message to Chim the moment they'd learned one of the 118 had been shot, and had been happy to break the news of his recovery to an anxious Harbor station in the tense days after it had all gone down. Evan, though - he doesn't have a clue who that could be. He's still got a few buddies from B Shift he talks to on occasion, but he doesn't remember any stories about an Evan from them, and Howie hasn't mentioned one, either.

Of course, it's not like either one of them does a great job of keeping in touch.

The mystery is solved a moment later when Williams tips her head at him. "Feels like we're being overrun by the 118 tonight," she says with a grin, but her gaze slides to Evan, rather than Tommy. "And we've got an honest-to-goodness legend tonight."

"You know I still can't believe you survived that, Buckley," Mehta says, and the puzzle piece slots itself into place. "Uh, although we're all glad that you did."

Buckley. Tommy shifts. Reassesses. Eyes the glance between Diaz and Buckley like he's gonna figure out their deal while he's already four and a half drinks deep into the night and hasn't already heard the larger than life tales of this duo from half-a-dozen gossipy paramedics. According to some, there's a secret torrid love affair going on behind the scenes of their codependent friendship. According to others, the ones he more or less trusts not to stretch the truth too far, they're friends -- closer than most, and maybe a little weird about each other, but friends all the same.

Buckley's a shark. Or, if Williams is to be believed, a bit of a cheat.

As the game goes on, and the conversation drifts from the morbid details of Buckley's three-minutes-seventeen-seconds of lifelessness, past the special skills near death experiences are rumored to cause, past the time out where they'd all admired the pictures of Buckley's Lichtenburg scars ("They faded pretty quickly," Evan says, with a soft little frown like he's a bit disappointed not to have any physical proof beyond a few shots of his naked brick shithouse of a chest.) Tommy can't help but admire the shift from bashful to smirking and smug as Evan keeps racking up monumentally improbable hands. He's a bit of a brat, actually, and Tommy can feel Rosen's eyes burning into the side of his head every time he ups the ante just to watch the flicker of triumph aimed in his direction every time Evan wins a hand Tommy raised.

Tommy's no slob with cards, on a normal day, but he's too busy trying not to read anything into the way Evan's eyes keep drifting to the v of the shirt he hadn't buttoned back up just to spite Rosen, or the way he keeps licking his fucking lips every time Tommy takes a sip of the whiskey at his elbow to really care as his chips dwindle to nothing. Tommy can't be entirely sure, but it seems like maybe Evan pouts, a little, when Tommy pushes back from the table to join the rest of the losers crowded around to watch Williams, Mehta and Buckley battle it out.

He's trying to think of a subtle way to ask Howie if Evan Buckley is just like that with all the men in his life when Eddie slides in beside him with a refill on his whiskey. Tommy grimaces. "I shouldn't."

"Thought you were trying to drink away a bad date?"

Tommy shoots Rosen a glare over Eddie's shoulder, but she's too busy chasing her straw with her tongue to notice.

"He was a Tesla fanboy," Tommy intones, and the braces himself for the reaction. He's used to it, now -- the constant cycle of coming out and waiting to see which new acquaintances bow out of getting to know each other any better. This is... earlier, than he usually drops it, but he hasn't been in the mood to lie about it in years, and Eddie had asked. He gets a raised brow and a grimace.

"Don't tell me you didn't know ahead of time," Eddie says, and Tommy loosens the grip on his glass.

"Hazards of blind dating."

Eddie's look is commiserating. He tips his beer bottle against Tommy's rocks glass. "Yeah, my tia keeps finding reasons for me to run into the eligible daughters and granddaughters of all her friends." Which Tommy supposes is answer to half of the question that's been plaguing him since he sat down.

Buckley gets cocky a few times, but it's clear the night is going his way even before Jeshan Mehta's pot gets swept up in Evan's arms. Williams holds out as long as she can.

"Beginner's luck!" Buckley crows, when Williams' last chip is added to his pile. Eddie's been supplying him with a steady flow of drinks for the past thirty minutes, and his smile is crooked as he tilts backwards in his chair for a fist bump. His eyes flick to Tommy's once he's received his congratulations from Eddie, and Tommy pretends he's not a little bit fascinated by the pull of his jacket over his arms, or the way his closed hand lingers near Tommy's even after Tommy has smacked his knuckles against his as well.

Evan Buckley is frustratingly adorable. Tommy's had too many drinks for any kind of decent decision making. He bows out while Evan and Eddie are collecting his winnings.

-----

Tommy's eyes flick to the readout on his phone. He doesn't recognize the number, but it's a local area code, so he picks up on the forth ring. "Go for Kinard."

"Uh - hey, hi. Hey Tommy." The voice is familiar, sweet and low. "It's Buck - Evan. Evan Buckley. I uh -- I got your number from Chim, I hope that's alright?"

Tommy's got a solid fifteen minutes before he has to leave for work, a raging headache that has thus far refused to accept electrolytes or Advil as tribute to his overindulgence the previous evening, and a full understanding that he's going to spend his shift listening to Donato swear up and down she's the better option for finding him a man, but the voice on the other end of his phone might at least give the headache a run for it's money.

"Evan. Hi."

"Hey. So -- you dipped before I could ask -- which is fine, obviously, I'm not -- uh..." He pauses. Tommy can practically picture the way he wets his lower lip while he searches for the right words. "Anyway I was wondering -- would you maybe wanna grab a beer, sometime?"

Tommy spends about fifteen seconds rearranging his entire schedule in his mind. Says, cool, calm, collected: "Sure. When are you free?"

Evan's voice goes distant for a second -- he's putting Tommy on speaker. "I, uh -- I didn't expect you to say yes so quickly. Actually I didn't expect you to answer -- who answers unknown numbers, anymore?"

"Who calls expecting to get sent to voicemail?"

The brat rises up immediately. "Uh, literally everyone. The missed call is just an excuse to text. It's basic phone etiquette, Tommy."

Tommy likes the way he says his name. Soft, sweet and slow, rolling over his tongue like molasses. This feels incredibly like flirting, but he can't get a fucking read on this kid. "Clearly I've missed out on an important cultural shift. I can hang up and we can do this the right way, if you want."

"No!" It's sharp -- louder, like he's raising the phone back towards his mouth. Tommy can't hide the grin leaking across his face. "Uh -- no, it's fine. Too late, anyway, I already know you don't know phone rules."

"Hopefully that doesn't change your opinion of me too much."

"I could be convinced to ignore it, with the right incentive."

"I'll buy first round," Tommy says, and wonders if he's got any other shirts he can play off as fitting better with three buttons undone. The flirting should be enough, but -- Tommy's still not sure drinks isn't just drinks.

"Wednesday night," Evan says, voice further away again. Tommy has a sudden, desperate urge to see what his Google calendar looks like. For all that he'd cut loose at the poker game, Tommy bets it's color coded by type of activity. "If that works. Or Saturday, any time, really. I'm uh -- I'm free then."

If Tommy bows out of trivia on classic car week Cynthia will have a whole ass bitch fit. And it makes him seem a little less eager, to boot. "Saturday. I've got a shift early Sunday, though, so maybe something in the afternoon?"

"Yeah -- yes, th-that works." The stammering isn't something Tommy can get a read off of. He'd done it just as much with Eddie as he'd done with everyone else. "There's a new brewery just off Pico and Prosser -- Chim said you were a fan of craft beer?"

Sounding more date like by the minute, but -- some guys toe the line. Could be Evan Buckley just wants to know more about flight operations, for all Tommy knows. "Text me the details. Look, Evan, I'd love to stay on this rule-breaking phone call and chat but I've got to head in for a shift. Just -- let me know the plan." He's got five minutes to brush his teeth and rue the moment he'd asked Gary for his first whiskey of the night. He's also rolling back his last few sentences and cringing at how abrupt he'd been. "And yeah -- good to know Chim hasn't forgotten the three facts I ever told him about me."

Evan laughs, just a soft little huff but Tommy already knows the grin behind that sound is all sorts of knee-meltingly sweet. "Cool. So. Yeah, I'll text you."

"I'll talk to you later, Evan."

"Yep. Talk to you -- talk to you soon."

Tommy waits a moment in silence. The call doesn't end. "Goodbye, Evan."

Evan huffs out another awkward laugh. "Yeah. Bye, Tommy."

The call disconnects just in time for Tommy to press his forehead into the cool tile beside his bathroom mirror. He might be monumentally screwed if this isn't a date. He hasn't been this fucking charmed by a man since -- well, it's been a while.

Tommy's phone buzzes in his hand. It's a pinned address from a number he doesn't have saved. Tommy swipes into the contact and updates it before the next text makes it through. Saturday 3PM?

Tommy brushes his teeth, downs the rest of his preworkout in the hopes that it'll ease some of the nastier parts of his stupid decision to keep drinking liquor past midnight, and stares at the text all the way out to his truck.

See you then, Tommy sends back, and he has to toss his phone into his passenger seat when he gets a series of incomprehensible emoji's almost immediately in response.

He holds up a hand to Donato the moment she catches his gaze, halfway across the parking lot. The brow goes up, the hand slots to her hip, and she rolls her tongue over her teeth, clearly ready for her speech about how Stout doesn't have a clue how to find Tommy a proper date. Tommy has other problems.

"You worked with Evan Buckley, for a while, didn't you?"

Her head tilt rights itself. The second brow dances up to meet the first. Whatever she'd meant to say disperses behind her eyelids as she seems to work through something in her mind. "Oh, this is compelling," she says, and practically skips forward to loop her arm in his.

[grugruel]

Say it Again

Pairings: Cooper Howard x f!reader

NSFW/MDNI

Masterlist

Summary: For a long time, there'd been a quiet, reciding fondness between you and your companion. And when you finally journey back to your old vault, feelings are stirred from the depths and brought to the surface.

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: (mentions of blood, violence, death), angst, pinv sex, passionate sex, strong feelings, "I love you", pet names (darlin', sweetheart, honey), hair pulling (squint and you'll miss it), overstimulation, creampie, praise (both recieving).

AN: Not yet proofread! Let me know what yall think about the music inserts. I figured since its such a big part of the fallout universe, I might aswell ad it in a fic too! Enjoy yall!!

The vault was open. . . It took my mind a few moments to wrap around the idea.

The thought of it being perpetually shut was so hard-wired into my being that I would've thought the gaping door a hallucination had it not been for my own departure a few months prior.

And I knew- I knew it ment nothing good. But perhaps they'd all left–alive, wandering the wasteland in search of better luck–a better life.

♪ Yes, pretending that I'm doing well

A familiar melody rang faint, barely reaching through the howling wind as it sang up a storm of scorching sand, whipping and tearing at my clothes.

In abivalence, I made my way toward the facade. Eyes examining the number 33 written in a bold, weathered font on the hefty external door.

A pang of guilt hit me–maybe I shouldn't have left, maybe I could've prevented whatever happened here. With the inhale of a calming breath, I stepped up to the construction, running the flat of my palm along the beaten but familar metal.

Then, without so much as a single thought of caution, I stepped over the threshold. The safety of a vault- my vault, was too fresh in my mind. That allong with the trust I placed in the hands of my shadow, suspecting his vigilance to be enough for the both of us.

Tracing the cool, grand archway with my fingertips as I entered, feeling the wear of oxidisation on its surface. Such a small detail I'd never payed any mind to before. How aged it was, yet still standing strong. A reminder of its resilience- of its impenetrable metal, planned to withstand outside threats for hundreds of years. And now, there it stood–wide open. The derision of the situation nagged me terribly.

♪ I'm lonely but no one can tell

When no longer veiled by the wind, the song sang clearly, its notes reverberating throughout the metal in a forboding fashion. Setting off a feeling of unease in the pit of my stumache.

While I stood familiarising myself again, I could feel a pair of eyes watching me, observing me. Monitoring my grief-struck and conflict ridden mind with a commiserating gaze. Their constant and reassuring prescence hovering behind me in semblance of a specter, keeping a respectful distance as my mind worked through what might have transpired while I was away.

♪ Oh yes, I'm the great pretender

The volume grew stronger as we made our way inside, my feet moving with slight hesitation as they clanged along the grated flooring.

♪ Adrift in a world of my own ♪

Stepping on the elevator, I steadied myself against the railing, feeling it vibrate beneath my hands with the frequency of the music. Those sweet well-known tunes only growing more and more eerie as we descended, accompanied by that strange constant hum from the bedrock, from the quiet. A white noise that only lived in vast open constructions such as this. Inhabiting the walls, the floor, and open spaces made from metal and stone.

A shiver ran down my spine, I'd never liked the quiet, despite the volume of the music, the quiet resounded. It'd always made to much noise in my mind.

♪ You've seen and you've left me to dream all alone

But when the doors opened to the floor below, a reassuring hand placed itself on the small of my back, amicably giving me a final push when I'd stood too long hesitating.

And it helped, it really did. The eclipsing stillness of the vault and the distorting of the music softened, fading and returning to that of good times–when they'd still existed.

♪ Too real is this feeling of make-believe

But the possibilities of what I might find ahead launched a gruesome assault on my mind. I tried distracting myself–thud, thud, thud. Our dull steps tapped against the floor. A pair of spurs clicking along with the steady rythm, leather groaning. Turns out I could only hear him, and I prefered it that way.

♪ Too real when I feel what my heart can't conceal

It was a better focus then the constant searching for bloodsplatter and unmoving bodies, splayed out on the floor or tucked into a corner, seeking shelter, protection–spurs, leather-

I snapped back, the lyrics echoing in my mind and bouncing of the walls simultaneously, resonating throughout the empty halls as I jumped off of that dark train of thought before it could spiral further. The hands scrunched the fabric of my clothes, silently checking on me, attempting to refocus my mind. On the music, on him, anything was better.

♪ Yes, I'm the great pretender

I followed the words, thinking of the ones before and those to come. I still remember the list of songs. They'd played during weddings and social gatherings. We had them in our houses. I remember dancing in the kitchen, with swaying to the music with those I love. It was one of those moments which you knew you'd remeber forever, which would become a core part of you. Always to be looked back on, and sure enough.

I could't help myself from smiling, such fond memories. In my peripheral, his eyes softened. Still keeping his vigilant watch over my well-being, returning my smile with no intention of ever telling me, unkowing that I had indeed noticed him as he did so.

♪ Yes, just laughing and gay like a clown

But now, as I wandered the abandoned halls of the vault, they were only a tragic reminder of a time gone by–yet, I could see no bodies, no evidence of a fight or struggle–relief flooded through me. However, I still didn't dare make my way down to the compost section, I'd walked that path to many times on my last day here.

♪ I seem to be, what I'm not, you see

The hand angainst my back brushed my clothed skin with a thumb, circling a vertebra, moving to squeeze my arm as it then fell back to his side. The loss of his touch was dissapointing, but the closeness of his body made up for it.

We took a turn, away from the chance of decaying bodies and toward the fields of crop. I wanted to see it one last time, remember that last wedding–the good times, before I left and the place had become this, before it was reduced to a graveyard of memories.

♪ And I'm wearing my heart like a crown

I found my eyes wandering as we walked, constantly sliding to the man beside me. An aching arose in my heart, the two of us could've been something real sweet. Something true, something strong. If only we had the freedom of chance and opportunity. But as it were, we simply coexist, solely striving to survive in a world swallowed up by nuclear waste and feral brutality. I don't know what I would've done without him, it was a long road for us to grow this close–we didn't get along too well when we first met.

♪ Oh yes, I'm pretending and praying that you're still around

The music tunes out, fading into quiet nothing, like dust particles leaving rays of light–simply seizing to exist. I felt the comparison too familiar for my liking, turns out anything is just a metaphor for something else.

After waiting patiently and biding it's time, that strange hum takes up again. Making me wish he'd hold me steady, a d let the drumming of his heart be the only thing I hear. A wish that frequented my mind a lot as of late.

It's interesting how much you learn about yourself and the world when leaving the safety of your vault. The most ironic thing–radiation, and the fact that its the least to be worried about on the surface, the real danger being what dwells in the midst of it. Creatures–beasts, savages and monsters. The rad mutated animals are nothing compared to the barabarians that the human species have become, I really had no idea what stripping someone of their basic needs and a guaranteed future could do to a person before I entered the wasteland. And now, I cant help but marvel at the fact that only a few have resorted to eating eachother and worshipping radiation.

Dog-eat-dog is an old expression that comes to mind. Apparently it was used way before all of this befell us, and I can't help but imagine how bad we could've been back then to create such a phrase in a law-abiding society. But they were the poeple to destroy the world and we to rebuild it, so perhaps its not that strange after all.

Either way, I don't remember it personally. I wasn't alive back then, but it was told to me by someone who was.

The next song started up, the sorrowful tune keeping the deafening white noise at bay, and as I had predicted the list, it was my favorite to be played.

♪ There's a place where lovers go

To cry their troubles away ♪

The tape, surely damaged–played a slower version than I remembered, but it was all the same to me as I let it envelop me in a veil of comfort before finally laying eyes on what we'd come here for–corn. I felt their green stems beneath my fingers as I walked along the field, it was a miracle they were even alive and surviving whatever hardships they'd encountered. Another metaphor.

There came a rustling behind me, my companion doing the same as I had. A scarred hand reaching out to slide his fingers through the crop, keeping a stunned expression on his face, the corners of his lips curling upward.

♪ And they call it Lonesome Town

Where all the broken hearts stay ♪

It must've been a long time for him since feeling something living like this. Much, much longer than it had for me. And I'd just taken it all for granted.

Keeping our pace, we followed the path through the crops until fianlly, the familiarity of a huge wall welcomed me home.

Surrounding me was a vast sky with millions of stars and endlessly stretching mountains, following a path so distant I could not spot the end, all the while the high moon cast silvery blue light upon the world. A projection of the Nebraskan countryside. I used to stare at it for hours, dreaming myself away to a place that no longer existed. 'Did it really look like this? The world- I mean.' I hatched out of me.

♪ You can buy a dream or two

To last you all through the years ♪

'It sure did.' My companion turned to face me, choosing a lesser view over the pretty one before him. He was a mere arms-length away. 'It could be real beautiful.' He said, his eyes roaming my face.

♪ And the only price you pay

Is a heart full of tears ♪

He was a brute, that is true. He was the outcome of living through literal hell, but he'd fared quite well through it all in my opinion. He had his humanity left, which is more than I can say for the majority of the population. Charming and quick-witted, dangerous and cold. He'd seen who we were and what we had become, it's no wonder he acted the way he did. But it was all the same to me, he was strong and handsome, he could even by kind-hearted at times, and I loved him through it all.

♪ Goin' down to Lonesome Town

To cry my troubles away ♪

The implication made me blush, and shy away from his eager eyes while I averted my own, leading them back to the contryside. 'I wish I could've seen it.' I tried to focus, studying the sight meticulously, jotting down every detail in my mind. I hadn't had time the last time I was here- not to dwell. Too late now it seemed, the memory resurfacing with a passion as my eyes drifted over the scorching cloud in the sky, burned into the irreplaceable film. My lips drew into a thin line as I swallowed, it was reality, it was life. But it didn't stop my stumache from churning, the stench of wet metal revisiting my nose.

♪ Goin' down to Lonesome Town

To cry my troubles away ♪

A scarred hand reached up to brush strands of hair from my face, again, distracting me mercifully. Rough knuckles gently sliding over my cheek and the neighing of my jaw. 'I wish you could too.' He grasped my chin between this thumb and index finger, tilting my face upwards, our gazes meeting eachother.

♪ In a Town of broken dreams

The streets are filled with regret ♪

I leaned into his touch, for it was rare. Rare that he allowed himself simple pleasures such as touching me, even though I would willingly give myself to him at a moments whim. 'I love you.' I whispered. 'Please, please let me.'

♪ Maybe down in Lonesome Town

I can learn to forget ♪

The music glitched, the sound warping spookily as the needle scratched and jumped the groves in the needle. Shutting off for a second and then coming back on, restarting the song.

He shook his head, eyes uncharacteristically soft as met mine. Uncharacteristic to anyone but me. 'I can't feel ya', sweetheart.' He reclaimed his hand and took a step back, squeezing it into a fist, frustration shaking it as he cursed himself. The music tuned out, and all I see was the blue light contrasting his red-burnt skin, enforcing its texture as shadows settled in the contours and the pale silver on his high points. All I could hear were his words, the frustration and insufficiencies hinding in his tone, mirroring my own. 'Can't feel your fuckin' softness, cant feel your skin.'

'You can–' I followed his movement, gaining on the distance he'd created between us. '–it might not be ideal, but it's us.' I slid my fingers along his clothed arm, grabbing his coarse hand.

'I'm here, not perfect, and that's what you can feel. Imperfection. . . It's something that belongs to us.' I gave him a faint smile, doing my best to reassure him. To truly make him understand.

'I dont deserve you.' He leaned his forehead against mine, his cowboy hat sliding up his head as he did so.

It was my turn to shake my head now. 'Oh, but if you only knew what you desvered.' My voice broke, eyes watering. 'The world, coop. You've been through so much, you survived the bombs dropping for fucks sake, and the following 200 years after that. What you did during those years was for your own survival, please do not ever feel bad about any of it.' The silence that ensued became too long, too deafening. 'I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, so beautiful in your own right.' A tear fell down my cheek.

'I dont feel bad 'bout it sweetheart, thats the problem. I aint any of that, 'm a selfish killer. There's nothin' left of who I were–the good part. . .' his hand slid down my arms, squeezing my biceps to emphasize. '. . .what little good there was, it died a long time ago.' His drawl thick as he spoke, kissing my forehead. 'You can do better, 'n I cant allow those precious years of yours to go to waste on somethin' like me.' He wrapped his arms around me, placing one hand on the back of my head, cradeling it to his chest as he pulled me close, resting his chin on top of my head. The wetness of my cheeks transfering to his shirt. 'Don't cry, sweetheart. Dont cry 'cause of me.' He kissed my forehead again, working his way downward–cheekbone, jaw and finally–my lips.

His hands slid down the outline of my body, shoulders and ribs, then settled on my waist. He pulled me closer, deepening the kiss in the same motion.

♪ Maybe down in Lonesome Town

I allowed him to kiss me for too long, I allowed him to believe his own words for too long. I pulled free, tearing away to breathe, to lock my eyes on his. 'I dont want who you were, dont you understand?' I cup his face, truly feeling him beneath my fingers, and loving every bump and dent. 'I want who you are now, scars and all. It's not for you to allow me anything. Get that in your head.' My voice had gone harsh, and even though he needed to hear it with all the conviction I muster, I added 'Please. . .' As softly as I could.

♪ I can learn to forget

The last notes of the song died out.

He shook his head as a small, breathless, humorless chuckle erupted from his lips. '. . .I love you too. . .'

♪ Only you

The next song started, the voice vibrating through his bones. A song he'd danced to when it was first released, twirling a life that no longer existed in his arms. He closed his eyes, humming along to the tune as he embraced the memory, arms wrapping tightly around its waist, hugging it lovingly one last time. Then let go.

♪ Can do, make this world seem right

He mouthed the words as he opened his eyes, finding her sweet face looking up at him, his pretty girl. It'd taken him more than he wished to admit, to say those three words. How such meak and fruitless words had cause him so much turmoil, he didn't know.

♪ Only you

Because when he looked at her now–stars projecting in her glimmering eyes, the wetness of tears remaining on her cheeks, anf with the backdrop of a countryside from a bygona era–the prevailing feeling was grief, a mourning over the precious time wasted, time he could've spent in admitant love with her. Holding her, kissing her, loving her. Things he just hadn't allowed himself to concede to, to fall slave under it. To truly feel it from the bottom of his heart–instead, reciding in the pit of it, in some dark, tucked away corner, was the feeling of being lesser and undeserving of her softness, her own kind heart.

♪ Can do, make the darkness bright

'Come.' She said, a faint smile on her lips as she grabbed his hand, pulling him with her. Away from the corn, away from Nebraska. He followed her willingly, blindly trusting her as she pulled him to wherever. He didn't care, as long as he was with her.

♪ Only you and you alone

The music grew fainter, devolving into a sweet hum, a lullig as the distance of the speakers tossed the sound boucing after them, echoing along the vaults longevous walls while they moved through them.

He turned her hand over as they walked, observing it quietly as he rubbed gentle circles into the plush skin of her hand, admiring what softness he could feel, his distorted hands dulling the sense unbareably.

♪ Can thrill me like you do

But it didnt matter in the end. Imperfection is what she'd said, and it belonged to them. His heart ached, eyes drifting over the small form leading him. The way her hair swayed and body moved, he could feel himself harden. Guilting himself. It was love for a woman, a family, that had once driven him to survive- with that life now long gone, it was that beautiful girl infrontnof him that kept him going.

♪ And fill my heart with only love for you

They passed several doors with accompanying mailboxes, until she slowed and halted her steps so suddenly, she almost collided with his chest. Her form stood frozen, contemplating, just as she'd done when they first entered the vault.

A scorched finger rose up to stroke her cheek. 'You alright, sweetheart?'

♪ Oh, only you

'Mhm. . .' She hummed. 'One moment.' And whipped around to face him, opening his saddlebag to rummage through it.

Unsuspectingly, a blush crept it's way up her cheeks, seemingly caused by the intent gaze he focused so tightly on her.

♪ Can do, make all this change in me

They'd just kissed, professed their love. Yet, it was his closeness, his warm breath against her that made her blush. He'd never want to be anywhere else. His gaze wandered, studying the home they stood infront of. Eyes landing on a mailbox, he read the full name aloud with a loving smile on his lips.

'I like the way it sounds when you say it.' She whispered, a coy smile on her lips. Suddenly- her eyes widened, finding what she'd been looking for, she pulled the object out of the bag, holding it up for him to see. An old pipboy.

"Welcome" it read, and as she turned one of the kogs, the door to the house opened.

♪ For its true

It was exactly the way I remembered it, not a detail out of place–rather an added layer of dust coating every surface of the place.

I ran a finger along the top of my scratched desk, gathering a pillow of dust on top of it. And then I saw it, standing lonely and abandoned–my old radio. Glee filled me as I turned it on, reflecting the song that was already playing outside. Filling my little house with soft waves of sweet tunes, all thr while weighing my heart terribly. Strong nostalgia splitting me in two. 'I used to love dancing.' The words left my lips in a soft murmur. 'Some of my favorite memories are from this kitchen, and now. . .' My voice broke. Inspected the dust and rubbed it between my fingers, observing how it crumbled to the floor. Perhaps another meatphor–how I myself am responsible for my old life crumbling.

♪ You are my destiny

A pair of hands found my waist, a chin coming to rest on my shoulder. He pulled me close, my back thudding against a strong chest. 'Its alright. . .' He breathed against my neck. 'We can make new ones.' Kissing my skin softly as he began moving with the music.

♪ When you hold my hand

My lips curled into a smile as I declined my head against his chest, snaking my hand behind his neck as the other fell on top of his hand, squeezing it with gratefulness. 'Thank you.' I whispered.

♪ I understand the magic that you do

He twirled me around, luring a giggle to erupt. He caught and pulled me close again, this time face to face. His eyes were still so clear, such a stark contrast to his muddled skin.

♪ You're my dream come true

The lyrics seemed to speak for us as my fingers interlocked behind his neck, my thumbs brushing his jaw. While his hands squeezed my sides, exhaling a long breath as we swayed, his eyes intently searching mine. 'I love you, sweetheart.'

♪ My dream come true

Without hesitation, my lips met his. 'Then prove it to me Coop. . .' Coyness tugged on my lips, my hands sliding to the buttons of his vest, '. . . Let me feel it.'

♪ Oh-oh, only you

He grinned against my lips. 'Anyhtin' for my girl.' And his hands wrapped around mine, helping them unbutton his clothes, skiding them off of him. Barechested as he was, he twirled me again. Back to chest, he whispered in my ear, 'Your turn, darlin'.'

♪ Can do, make all this change in me

Gladly, with my hands still guided by his touch, I brushed them along my torso, undoing every button of my shirt as I did so and slid it off my shoulders, my bra coming off next. He cupped them eagerly, a groan leaving his lips as he massaged them. Ingiting a pulse deep in my uterus. The music seemed to tune out off my mind, selective hearing I suppose.

Moaning in response, I could feel him harden as he pressed his hips into my ass. 'Need to feel it.'

'Undress.' Was all he said, removing his own clothes as I did mine.

A short moment later, he had my back pinned against a wall and my legs wrapped around his hips as he held me up with a firm arm around my waist–the other busy lining himself up with my core.

Suddenly- he pushed inside, leaving me as a whimpering mess. 'Good girl, sweetheart. . .' He whispered, doing nothing to ease the aching matter. '. . .sound so pretty for me.'

And without warning, he pulled out, and thrusted back into me again with full force. 'Mmh- Fuck!' I cried out. But his lips were on mine before I could fully register how big he was. Again and again, he trusted right into my core. His tongue fighting for control as it battled my own. My body was aching with a burning want for him, a need so strong I already felt myself closing in on my orgasm. '. . .'M gonna cum, Coop. Slow down, p- please. I stuttered the words, strained breaths dividing the sentence.

'Its ok sweetheart, you're doin' so well.' He reassured me, then took my words as a direct command and pushed us off the wall, walked over to the bed and threw us onto it with a cloud of dust kicking up around us.

Obiding my request, he backed up, hooked my legs over his shoulders and re-entered me with a shuddering moan. The feeling of my core effecting him as badly as his member effected me. With one hand burried in my hair, the other palmed a breast while his lips found my neck, gently taking my skin between his teeth as he pushed so deep inside me I almost screamed, but managed to bite my lip to keep quiet. That's when I felt him shake his head against me. 'Don't go all quiet, let me hear ya', honey.'

And so I did, releasing a string of curses disguised as moans while I wrapped my arms around his neck, placing kisses on his cheek while nuzzling my face against him. But I felt that blinding pressure building again, slower this time, but with an unrelenting force.

His warm breaths against my neck accompanied by the feeling of him inside me and the slick sound we created had my head swimming. It was too much, too fast. But this time, I wanted it. '. . .'M close Coop.' I whimpered.

'Me too, honey. Real fuckin' close.' He panted, voiced muffled as he kissed and sucked at my neck, hands fisting my hair and squeezing my breast. His thrusts began faltering as we both approached climax. 'Fuck, feel so good.' He cursed, groaning the words in my ear as our bodies rocked together, moving in sync. I was aflame, the pulsing in my body acting the accessory to his own members pulsing inside me. My eyes screwed shut, he felt so fucking good it was a simple reflex.

He kissed his way along my throat, pulling on my hair to angle my jaw for him, his lips trailing along it's sharps points, then up my cheek, settling in my lips. 'Look at me.' He breathed.

I wanted to listen to him, but my eyes did not. The pleasure was to much, the wall inside me so near collapsing-

'Look at me, sweetheart.' He ordered again, his voice sharper this time.

Having no other option I forced myself to open them. But it was worth it, listening to Cooper always was.

'Good girl.' He praised, his lips colliding with mine. And that wall burst, his words being the final battering ram. Tidal waves of pleasure rolled through me, roiling like crashing waves inside me. 'Love you, sweetheart.' He moaned.

No words would ever spur me on like those ones did, my uterus was quaking with every act of him. 'Say it again.' I pleaded.

'I love you' he whimpered. . . Whimpered. Strong and dangerous as he was, he whimpered as he came inside me. His rocking thrust strained as he continuing rutting into me, doing his best to lead us through our orgasms.

'Good boy, Coop. Again. . . Please.' I begged.

And he listened, repeating the words "I love you" against my lips, his voice pitching and breaking from the sheer pleasure he was submitted to. And when moving to softly nip at my ear, he whimpered those same three words in my ear over and over again until I felt a wetness on my cheeks–tears, I realised. He was overstimulating himself, crying as he made love to me. 'Fuck-' he shuddered the word, the slickness he'd created only coaxing more sounds out of him. 'Love you real fuckin' hard, darlin'. . .' He cried again. And I could've reached a second orgasm from that alone.

'I love you too Coop, love you so much. Youre so good to me.' I reassured him, my own voice near a cry as he was putting me through the ringer in the process. Finally, he began slowing down, his entire body shuddering from the way my insides clenched around him, milking the juies out of him. He kissed me one final time, then pulled out and collapsed beside me.

I had to take a moment to collect myself before turning to face him, my hand reaching up to brush the wetness from his cheeks.

His eyes met mine, both full of unconditional love. We laid like that for some time, loosing ourselves in eachothers gazes as we regarded one another in silent contemplation. All the while I could feel his seed leaking out of my core. 'You're a good man, Cooper Howard.' I whispered.

'I do what I can to deserve ya', sweetheart. The day I'm anythin' else but good to you-' He began. But I stopped him, not wanting his thoughts to walk down that road.

'You'll never be anything but good, Coop.' I inclined my head, kissing him softly before I nuzzled my head into the crook of his neck. 'Don't forget it.' My voice a murmur against his strong neck as I slowly drifted off to sleep within the safety of his embrace.

♪ We'll meet again

Hand in hand, our gazes stay on the halls infront of us as we walk back the way we came.

♪ Don't know where, don't know when

My eyes were on the sand as we left, attempting to distract myself by studying the way the the kernels dent beneath my weight. But with a deep breath, I stop and raise my pip-boy clad arm, looking back toward the falling night, toward the empty timecapsule.

♪ But I know We'll meet some sunny day

The words once again faint as they stab through the howling wind. I turn a kog on the pip-boy, and the vault door rolls into motion. The world around us painted in red-pinkish hues as the door's mechanics shut in the echoing vocals completley, the entrance closing with a heavy, reverberating grating sound.

I can feel my heart thudding hard, beating with a sadness and re found happiness. Revisiting my old home had given me melancholy and a new love. 'You coming?' The voice was soft, considering–unwilling to leave my mind wandering through old, lonely thoughts.

'Let's go.' I murmured, my eyes still on the weathered number 33 as the wind whipped at my cheeks.

'Look at me, sweetheart.' my love drawled, gathering my attention, and I redirect my gaze to his. 'We'll come back.'

I nod. 'We will.' A faint smile make its way to my lips as I stood on my toes to place a kiss on his lips.

Then, with his hand in mine, we wandered the wasteland. Searching for better luck–a better life.

[newtonsheffield]

Kate Sharma (Trouble) and Anthony (Edmund), Viscount Bridgerton in I fell in love with the fire long ago by Moomin_94 (newtonsheffield)

In some ways Kate had been lucky. In a lot of ways she’d been lucky in truth, even if it didn’t quite feel that way. A lot of people might not see it that way. They might not think it was lucky to have nothing but the middle name of a man who’d had so much sadness in his eyes when you’d sat down beside him in a bar with at least three empty glasses already in front of him. He’d barely looked towards her at first, which she’d been thankful for. There to have a quiet drink alone to celebrate the promotion she’d sunk so much time into that now felt a little hollow. He looked at her when she ordered, his eyes burning into the side of her face and she’d felt her stomach drop as she’d taken him in. A muscle clenched in the corner of his jaw and his hair was falling over his eyes as he stared at her.

“Are you commiserating or celebrating?”

His voice was like rough gravel and she found herself swallowing, “Celebrating. I got… exactly what I wanted, I guess. Got a promotion. I’m a solicitor.”

He nodded, “Congratulations.” He looked over to the bartender, “You can put it on my tab. Someone should be happy tonight.”

“Thank you.” Kate cleared her throat, “That’s nice of you.”

“Not really.” The man chuckled darkly, “Aren’t you going to ask me what I’m doing here?”

“I think it’s pretty obvious you’re commiserating.”

His laugh was much brighter than it probably should have been as it echoed through the bar, “I have a good reason to commiserate.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Kate settled in, enjoying the strange dynamic she was striking up. “Come on, what happened.”

He took a sip of his drink, “Today is the anniversary of my father’s death.”

Kate’s heart sank, “I’m so sorry.”

“I told you it was good.”

“That is cause for commiseration.” Kate agreed, “I really am sorry.”

“This promotion pretty big?” He was changing the conversation and she knew it but she let him do it.

“Yeah. Sort of. Just became junior partner.”

“Well, congratulations. I’m very excited for you, random beautiful woman.”

“I’ll tell you my name if you tell me yours.”

He frowned for a moment, “Why don’t you call me Edmund?“

“Edmund.” Kate found herself frowning, weighing it on his tongue, “You don’t look like an Edmund, it doesn’t suit you.”

“That’s what everyone says.” He inclined his head, “It’s my middle name. And you are?”

There was something about his gaze flicking over her that made her feel more and more bold as she took a sip of her own drink. “What do I look like.”

His teeth bit into his lip for a moment and his voice was even deeper, “Fucking trouble in that skirt.”

“Trouble it is then.”

They’d agreed in the morning, as they’d eaten breakfast awkwardly in the restaurant of the Savoy Hotel that neither of them were in the position for this to be anything. So she’d left with just his middle name and nothing else to go on with no idea that a month later she’d be staring at a positive pregnancy test with no way to contact the father of her child. Maybe that wasn’t lucky. Maybe it wasn’t lucky that she’d had nothing to give her son of his father but that name. Edmund, Neddy. But she felt lucky to have Neddy. Nearly three years old now and so beautiful it made her heart clench to look at him. she was lucky to have him. In some ways lucky that there was no traumatic break up to have dragged them all through even if Neddy was already asking questions about his Dad.

The very last place she expected to find Neddy’s father was sat on her mother’s couch with Neddy on her lap half paying attention to a viscount trying to build a new library in his constituency.

“Well, you see Rachel-”

Kate froze at the sound of his voice, her mouth falling open as her eyes fell on the man that had occupied so many of her thoughts the last three years.

Anthony, The television said. Viscount Bridgerton.

“Holy Fuck.”

“Bad word!” Neddy said as Edwina and Mary both stared at her.

“What?”

Kate swallowed, the words choking in her throat. “That’s N-E-D-D-Y’s D-A-D.”

This is probably the most unlucky she’s ever felt, walking into the office of her former one night stand turned unsuspecting father of her child armed with nothing but her diligent google search from the night before. He had a right to know. Kate told herself again. Even if he didn’t want anything to do with them, she wasn’t looking for anything from him anyway. He should know that he has a child.

“Can I help you?”

Kate tried to smile at the receptionist. “Hello, yes. I was wondering if I could… speak to the Viscount? Please?”

The woman’s eyes flicked over her. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No, I… I don’t but it’s… very important.”

The woman frowned, “Are you a friend of his? Does he know you?”

Kate swallowed, “I… He might not remember-”

A door opened down the corridor and footsteps made their way towards them. He looked almost the same, other than his suit being much neater and his hair not a mess. He was just as handsome as when he’d hugged her before she’d left the restaurant and his eyes lit up as his smile grew into a slow, lazy thing.

“Hello, trouble.”

Kate’s laugh was a choked little thing. “You have no idea”

Now on Ao3

[werecreature-addicted]

In my mind werewolves are likely to have a lactation kink. They are over the moon when you're finally carrying his pups but the changes in your body?? They'd go crazy. Your boobs being fuller get him going both because you're gonna be his perfect mate who's gonna feed his pups but also he needs to alleviate the pain of them getting fuller and to make sure they're in great condition for his babies (idk if you're into this if not sorry and pretend I never sent it 🫶🏼)

Anon your mind. I love it

Werewolf lover who is over the moon when he hears that you're with child. His child, no less. He might cry when you tell him. He defiantly falls to his knees and kisses your tummy.

He does sympathize with the pain that pregnancy puts you through. He's willing to do anything to make things more comfortable for you. No craving is too weird, and no task is too small.

He's obsessed with your tits. Outloud he agrees that it sucks how big they're getting and commiserate with your pain, but on the inside, he's drooling. He's always been a boob man at heart. Seeing how your big tits spill out over your bras drives him wild.

He loves when you forgo bras entirely, and he can see the soft outline of your nipples through your shirts. Your werewolf lover is nothing if not caring. He loves to massage your chest. He'll go on for hours if you let him.

When you start lactating he truly and fully loses his mind. Please, please, please let him drink your milk. It's spilling all over your shirt anyway, going to waste. He might as well be the one to drink it.

Before your baby is born, your werewolf lover is greedily sucking on your tits as much as he can. He loves how your body looks, he loves knowing his mate is going to take such good care of his baby, and he loves your tits.

[vechter]

today i have decided to feel insane about nightwing and cheshire interacting. how she has only met him in professional capacities but because they both love roy, it is very evident to her how much dick and roy care about each other.

in nightwing: old friends, new enemies, she hesitates to use her poison claws on him because she knows that he's only doing this for roy, a man she once loved, the father of her child. and that hesitation costs her. at this point in the story, dick has only just found out her location and he doesn't yet know roy's real motivations for asking dick for help. he's holding back because roy is awol and he doesn't have the full picture, yet.

towards the conclusion of this story, when she has been defeated and is being escorted to captivity, she calls out for him:

just. how can i not be insane about this. she knows what roy means to dick, how much lian means to roy. she has now seen both first-hand and she entrusts dick with this- asking him to take care of her daughter. this is such a big leap of faith, she's injured, has just been tranquilized, is on her way to losing custody of her daughter and probably going to prison for the foreseeable future. and to ask this of dick? heartbreaking but also, of course she can ask this. this is what dick has been doing since he found out why roy asked him on this mission- taking care of roy and by extension, lian.

another instance where i enjoy their dynamic- their shared love of roy is titans (1999) #12:

just look at his fond lil expression when he's talking about roy, arguably to one of the most important people in roy's life. their shared commiseration over roy's big heart and impulsivity.

jade's bleeding out and when she's cheshire, she doesn't usually show weakness. but she feels comfortable enough to be vulnerable enough to ask if she will make it. and how he attempts to soothe her with levity and she meets him there. he might never understand why roy loves her but at the same time, he can understand roy's ever-present affection for her. this is the mother of roy's child. and dick gets that! just look at titans (1999) #21:

just feeling insane about how both jade and dick's immense love for roy is reflected and recognized by the other. it's such a fun nuance to explore and a big contributor to my dickroy propaganda. <3

[rendy-a]

hello if u dont mind, may I request your newest post with the rumored ramshackle girl with jade, azul and floyd please?

In case you are new to these prompts, this is a series where the students of NRC suspect the Prefect of Ramshackle might be a girl and are terribly interested in confirming if this is true. In the interest of keeping my writing gender neutral, the results of this investigation are always left up to the reader.

The bootcamp Azul, Jade and Floyd had attended before coming to the surface had covered many things about surface dwellers and their lives but some things remained a mystery.  “So, tell me again why I can’t just ask the Prefect to see their little leg?” Floyd asks in an annoyed voice.  Azul sighs deeply, the conversation having gone on for quite a while, “Firstly, that’s not a leg and secondly, it just isn’t done on the surface!”  Floyd gnashes his sharp teeth in frustration.  “My, my,” Jade coos, “What an unfortunate mystery.”  Azul scowls over at Jade, “This isn’t helping anyone.  We need to sit and think about this rationally.” 

Floyd continues to mutter discontentedly but does move over to one of the sofa’s that flank Azul’s desk in the private back office of Mostro Lounge and takes a seat.  Jade slides to sit across from him in his signature gentlemanly manner.  The brusque air in which Azul plops down in his chair is testament to how preoccupied his thoughts are; even his suave persona is showing cracks.  He gathers up some pages of notes, trying to sort them before giving up and tossing the messy pile next to a stack of books.  Jade eyes the titles and smiles amused at the confused collection including such things as “What Women Want” and “How to Land Your Hunk in 10 Easy Steps.”  Azul notices Jade’s attention and quickly slides the stack of books into a desk drawer while flushing deeply. 

“Ah hem,” he clears his throat, “Sometimes even well thought out plans need to be adapted and changed.”  He looks slowly down at the stack of discarded notes, “And then changed again and again,” he softly mutters.  Jade smiles widely at Azul’s agitation.  “Ah hem,” Azul clears his throat to prepare to steer the conversation, “Now, what we need to discuss is how we are going to solve this little mystery.”  Floyd takes in a big breath and Azul quickly adds, “In a way approved by surface dwellers!”  Floyd frowns and mutters, “This blows.  Why do humans make everything so complicated?”  Jade places his gloved hand over his heart and commiserates with his sibling, “Why yes, it is a shame the Prefect isn’t attending school under the sea with us.  Things are so much straightforward with mer.”

Jade likely hadn’t intended to be helpful, as he was so enjoying the distress of his companions, and yet his comment caused Azul to take a long pause.  “Under the sea…” the pensive dorm leader trails off.  Jade narrows his eyes a bit, considering Azul.  Then he ventures a snide comment, “You aren’t planning to ask the Prefect to show you their tail fin, are you?  Because I’d certainly enjoy watching that conversation.”  Floyd shares a chuckle with his twin.  Azul glares at the duo before sitting back and steepling his hands, “Well, maybe I will.”  Floyd’s expression immediately changes into a scowl, “I thought we couldn’t ask the Prefect to show us their little leg!”  Azul’s brow knits tightly as he glares at Floyd again before he lets out a long-suffering sigh and lets it go.  “Come here boys, I’ve got a plan.”

The Prefect of Ramshackle dorm follows Jade eagerly down the glass hallway leading toward Octavinelle.  “Are you sure there isn’t some sort of contract waiting for me?” you ask again.  Jade smiles at you, appearing to be amused rather than annoyed at your repeated question, “I assure you, Prefect, that this outing is entirely for our benefit.  In fact, it is you doing us a favor and not the other way around.”  You can’t help but maintain your suspicion, “Maybe I should be negotiating for something more then.  Get the most out of this deal while Azul is being so generous.”  Jade bows apologetically, “I’m afraid, Prefect, that the potion we’re providing you complementary is the extent of our benevolence today.”  You follow silently for a moment before you can’t help but interject, “But it’s free, right?” 

Instead of answering you, Jade sweeps open a door and gestures for you to proceed him.  You’ve arrived at Octavinelle.  You always feel a certain way when you cross the threshold of this dorm.  It’s like a certain sense of foreboding that warns you that dangerous creatures lurk in the dark of the deep ocean.  As usual, you push down any minor unpleasantness and follow your eel guide deeper into the lair of your host. 

When you arrive at the lounge, Floyd catches sight of you first and bounds to his feet.  “Shrimpy, you’re here!”  Then he uses his unusual strength to swing you off your feet as you chide him to set you down.  He is in an exceptionally good mood today, for which you are grateful.  You wouldn’t want to set out on such an undertaking with Floyd in a bad mood.  “Give our guest some space, Floyd,” Azul admonishes gently, “You’ll have to forgive him.  We are all very excited for the outcome of today’s experiment.” 

This reminds you of your unusual task today.  Azul had explained it as an exercise in advanced potion making.  He was tweaking a transformation potion to not only allow for a human-to-mer transformation but one that also let the potion maker control the type of mer they transformed into.  Azul had lamented that he was unable to get the assistance of Jade and Floyd or take it himself, “For you see, Prefect, the results would be inconclusive as we are already mer.”  While that did seem to make sense, you’d long since developed a healthy amount of caution with anything the trio was tied to.  You’d have steered clear of Azul’s scheme entirely if it wasn’t for the alure of transforming into a mer.  That was an experience you just couldn’t resist.

You gaze at Azul cautiously and hesitantly ask, “So what sort of mer do you have planned for me?  It’s not something crazy like a whale or shrimp, right?”  Floyd smiles when you mention ‘shrimp’ but says nothing.  Instead, Azul sweeps in with his businessman persona to finish ‘selling’ you on the experiment.  “Of course not, Prefect!” he soothingly says as he dramatically gestures, “I assure you that we’ve chosen something simple for you.  This is just a first experiment, after all.  We didn’t plan on going into elaborate trials yet.”  You deadpan, “Just tell me.”  Jade chuckles at your reply and steps in, “It’s a Koi fish.  Nothing to be alarmed at, I assure you.”  Well…that actually sounded fine.  It was at least a fish you’d heard of, and you couldn’t really think of any objections to it.  “Once I’m transformed, you aren’t going to do anything funny to me.”  Floyd, bored with waiting, jumps in, “Come on Shrimpy, we just wanna see your tail and then we are good.”  Then he leans in toward you, “After that, I’ll take ya swimming.  Show you around the reef.” 

Honestly, it sounded like a rare experience, and you couldn’t help but be excited.  So, you ignored any last lingering doubts and held out your hand for the potion.  Jade sets the potion in your waiting hand, and you hold eye contact as you uncork the potion and throw it down your throat.  The initial taste was vile, but it had a slight fruity aftertaste which suggests Azul had at least attempted to soften the flavor for you.  You wondered at the consideration and the associated implications before feeling a twist in the pit of your stomach.  “Where is the pool?” you demand as you feel the urgent need to be in the water.  Floyd grabs your hand and pulls you along after him before pushing you into a room and closing the door behind you.  “Go on Shrimpy,” you hear him call out with a laughing voice from beyond the door, “we’ll catch up to you after.” 

You feel the beginning of a shift and quickly remove your clothing, not even bothering to fold it nicely and hastily dive into the pool.  There is an immediate sense of relief as the sea water fills your emerging gills and you marvel at the gold, white and black speckled tail emerging from your bottom half.  You arranged some shell adorned clothing you’d brought with you to cover your top in what you hoped was a cool mer-inspired fashion and decided you were ready to exit to the reef beyond.

Two shadows pass overtop of you and you startle and look around for the source.  You fail to control your surprise as a long tail wraps around your new tail and another around your arm.  You struggle for a moment before realizing this is what they want and let yourself go slack.  Jade chuckles and Floyd huffs before they release you and allow you to spin yourself around and look into their too smug faces.  “Why Prefect, how koi of you,” Jade drawls in amusement.  It takes you a moment to understand his pun and ask, “Was that what this was for?  So you could make fish puns.”  Floyd scoffs, “Nah, these days Jade is only into mushroom puns.”  You roll your eyes, “Sorry for missing the perk of it then.”  Jade and Floyd share a look, “This variety just has many hidden benefits.”  You peer at them suspiciously, “Like what?”

When neither of them answers beyond an ominous sounding chuckle, you ask again in a panic, “Like what!”  They have no time to answer as, with a sudden yelp, they are yanked from your side by a pair of dark tentacles.  “Jade, Floyd,” drawls Azul, “You are being rude to our special guest.”  Then he slowly slides to your side as you attempt to not stare at his octo-mer form.  One sleek tentacle rises and taps one of the shells you decorated yourself with.  You fluster, noticing none of the others had chosen to wear anything decorative like this.  “I thought it was a nice touch,” you mutter embarrassed.  “Why yes,” Azul quietly replies, “it does suit you quite well.”  His compliment relatives some of your tension, “Does it look strange?”  Now it was Azul’s turn to fluster.  After several false starts, he finally squeezes out a response, “I see you are the traditional sort.” 

You looked at him questioningly and Jade sweeps in to alleviate your confusion, “Shells.  Both the Mermaid Princess and the benevolent Sea Witch were said to have worn shell accessories.  You look like quite the proper mer.”  Perhaps it was the smile or the fact that you now felt like a very fashionable mer indeed, but you didn’t question them further when Azul instructs Jade and Floyd to take some measurements of your tail.   You watch them span a measuring tape around several areas of your tail to take its width.  They also appeared to have great interest in the degree of transparency of your fins. 

With each item Azul added to his notebook, he muttered, “I see, I see.”  You curiously asked, “Are these the results you were hoping for?”  He meets your eye and softly replies, “I’d have been happy either way.  It’s the knowing that is important.  You can’t plan without knowing.”  You look over to Floyd and ask, “Plan what?”  Floyd gives you a little giggle and reaches out to seize your hand, “Hey Shrimpy, this is getting boring.  What do you say we have ourselves a race?”  You privately agree that this was dragging on, so you give Azul a look as though to ask if you were free to go.  He sighs and gives you a nod. 

You give Floyd’s hand a shake in response and shout, “Alright!  Let’s give this tail a real trial now!”  Then you kick off and shout, “First one to that coral formation is a cuttlefish!”  Floyd laughs manically as he shoots after you.  Jade gives Azul a measuring glance and they share a knowing smile before he follows along, observing at a distance.  Azul makes no effort to follow and instead turns his attentions to his notebook and plans.  You spent the rest of the time your potion lasts happily swimming about the reef, blissfully unaware that three predators had firmly set their sights on you.  And, now that their little mystery was cleared up, there was nothing standing in the way of their schemes.

[matthewtkachuk]

bad at love

Breaking your brother's only unspoken rule—don't date his teammates—has never been an issue in your adult life. Until now.

pairing: jt compher x reader

warnings: angstttt, smut, a minor car accident with mentions of injury (broken bone/concussion), and the usual (alcohol, swearing, etc. etc.)

word count: 4.9k

a/n: hiiiiii @comphy-and-cozy i'm your super secret fic exchange writer! sorry this is a day late and a dollar short. one of these days @wyattjohnston is going to perma-ban me from participating in exchanges. until that date she remains my ever loyal editor. mad thanks to @thomasschabot for reading it first and telling me they loved it even though they're contractually obligated to do so and for physically being there when the fic idea popped into my head <3

It’s not the first time you’ve shown up at your big brother’s house with a face full of tears and a couple bags full of all your worldly possessions. Despite your best efforts and well intentions—if you had to guess—it likely won’t be the last. 

It is the first time you’ve done so with him being a married man, and so it’s your sister-in-law whose comfort you really seek and are expecting to pop up behind the slowly opening door in front of you. 

Unfortunately for you, and for the poor soul you really don’t know that well, it’s not Kenzy who opens the door but the over-the-summer pick-up from Colorado. 

If it had been any of the other, more tenured of your brother's teammates, you might have been waved inside with nothing more than a sympathetic glance and an unspoken ‘again?’. 

Instead, JT’s look of utter confusion has quickly evolved into something more akin to a quiet rage, and you’re reminded that he is a big brother himself. The look is familiar to you, having inspired a similar one on Dylan’s face more times than you can count. 

It’s been a really fucking long day, and you don’t have the emotional bandwidth to have any sort of reckoning with some guy you barely know in your brothers drive way. 

JT’s in the middle of some sort of sentence that begins and also ends with “What—” as you none too gently push past him in order to finally gain entry to the house. 

The mix of sympathy and feigned disinterest that greets you on the faces of your brothers teammates who occupy the large sitting room has your stomach rolling uncomfortably. It seemed like the entirety of the Detroit Red Wings were always around to witness your spectacular failures. What must they think, watching you disappear with the next great love of your life, only to reappear once again with bags packed in a manner of months?

You could hazard a guess at what your brother thinks, the variants of ‘I told you so’ that live and die on his tongue without ever leaving his lips. He wraps you up in an infamous Larkin hug that serves to fix a tiny crack of your broken heart, and so you revel in it like you used to revel in the comfort when the pain you felt was because of falling off the monkey bars when you were a kid. 

But, he has a house full of hockey players to entertain and Kenzy has a glass of wine with your name on it. Dylan returns to the living room and you slide out to the back porch with your sister-in-law, briefly catching the eye of the one who let you in. You don’t see the telltale signs of judgment reflecting back at you, but maybe something else entirely. 

Outside you pour your soul alongside the Malbec. Curled up on the wicker chair under a blanket you tell Kenzy about Owen and the promises he failed to keep. She oohs and ahs at the appropriate times, commiserating without belittling you. 

By the end of the night your heart—and the bottle of wine—feels a little lighter. There’s a little less shame as you make yourself at home in the spare bedroom that might as well permanently be yours. 

Owen visits you in your sleep, breaking your heart again and again until his face morphs into one with a ginger beard and kind eyes. 

-

Those kind eyes become a fixture in your post breakup life. If he’s not hanging around your brother's house, he’s bumping into you at the local coffee shop you frequent when you’re in Detroit. If he’s at neither, he’s obviously at the games you attend in support of Dylan alongside Kenzy. 

At Dylan’s, you barely speak to his teammates and friends beyond simple pleasantries. At your coffee shop, it starts at small talk but grows to be considerable conversations that dip just below surface level. 

It’s at Little Caesars Arena where he really endears himself to you though. Warm ups are arguably your favorite part of the games you attend. You like to look out at the signs, from the heartwarming to the obscene—picking out your favorites and giggling about the latter with your sister in law. 

Dylan’s always been really good about tossing kids pucks, and his big bleeding heart only grew larger when he got the red C strapped to his chest. Some of the other guys, even some of the so-called vets are less good about it. 

JT’s just like Dylan, maybe even a little kinder hearted. He takes the time to read the signs that are meant for him, never turns down a trade for a puck and even gives a stick to a kid whose sign says he came all the way from Denver to watch him, his favorite player, play in Detroit. 

It warms your heart. 

So much so you don’t even notice you’re staring until Dylan’s slamming himself into the boards in front of you to startle his wife. She rolls her eyes and calls him a name not worth repeating while you try to pretend like you weren’t just fixated on his teammate. 

The thing is Dylan has never outright said his teammates are off limits. Not since you were a teenager making eyes at his USNTDP teammates anyway. 

The memory keeps you from looking JT’s way the rest of the warmups, but once the puck drops your eyes can’t help but wander. 

-

Wandering appears to be your specialty, considering you’ve gotten yourself lost in the underbelly of the arena. 

Your first mistake was leaving Ken’s side—she was your ferryman, guiding you down the River Styx, and without her, you were lost in Hell. 

Were you overdramatic? Maybe. Were you lost with no hope of getting out? Still overdramatic, but definitely a possibility. 

The walls begin to look the same, and you’re half worried you’ve accidentally fallen into a back room or something stupid when you stumble upon the one who caught your eye earlier. 

‘Stumble upon’ is a gracious way of saying you absolutely smack into him and fall on your ass. 

He hauls you up effortlessly with one hand and your skin burns beneath his grasp. 

“What are you doing?” you both say in near unison before he laughs. 

“I was getting my shoulder checked out, what are you doing all the way over here? Are you lost?”

Regardless of what he was doing, JT obviously has more of a reason to be found wandering the halls of the arena. And he’s right, you’re most definitely lost but you play it off like he’s crazy. 

“Me? Lost? No, I know exactly where we are,” you bluff. 

JT’s eyebrows raise and he nods slowly. “Which is…?”

Well, he’s called your bluff but he also gave you a key context clue. “Near the athletic trainer, obviously.” 

He laughs again and it has your cheeks feeling hot. 

“Okay fine, maybe I’m a little bit lost and maybe I was contemplating how I’d be trapped down here forever before you knocked me over.”

“I’m sorry, but you ran into me.” You roll your eyes and begin to argue, but he doesn’t let that happen. “Doesn’t matter, I can help you find your way out.”

You swoon dramatically, only half joking as you reply “My hero.”

Now that you’re no longer focused on navigating your way out of Pan’s Labyrinth, you’re free to focus on your close proximity to JT. Based on the way his eyes dart between meeting your own and staring at your lips, you assume he’s just as aware.

Is this not what you’ve been wanting since you knocked on Dylan’s door? But that’s part of the problem, and you’re sure JT is thinking the same. Not only is your brother his teammate—and you’ve always been off limits to your brother's teammates to your chagrin growing up—but he’s JT’s captain, too. There’s a million ways this thing could go wrong and blow up in both of your faces. 

You could get caught, and be forced to sit with Dyl’s disappointment. You could hurt the one person in your life who consistently showed up for you and loved you and cared for you. 

Not to mention you could risk it all for nothing—could crash and burn spectacularly as you were wont to do. Could fuck it all up with not only your brother, but JT too and be left with nothing. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d gone behind your brother’s back, but you had a sneaking suspicion things would be worse than they were when you were 15 to his 16. 

Ultimately you decide fuck it, because what’s life without a little risk?

Tentatively, you slide your hand over the rough beard covering his jaw. When he doesn’t flinch or move away from you, you lean in closer. 

He’s not pulling away, but he’s also not moving closer, letting you make the first move. 

It’s probably a terrible fucking idea, but you’ve never been accused of being someone who makes good decisions when it comes to romantic partners. 

The first press of your lips to his is cautious, barely a brushing of your mouths, just to get a taste. Quickly you become a woman obsessed. Unable to get enough, the kisses turn frenetic, bordering on sloppy. 

He reciprocates in kind, his mouth hot and heavy on yours while his hands grasp and pull and hold. His very essence consumes you, taking over all of your five senses and pulling noises from you that you didn’t know existed. 

If your arm burned from his grasp earlier, your entire body has caught fire. 

You’re unaware or probably more accurately uncaring of your public nature, despite your earlier hesitance. Now you just want more and more and more of JT, as much as he is willing to give and maybe even a little more. 

He seems to be on the same page, entire body wrapping around you and pulling you deeper and deeper. 

Unconsciously your hands begin to pull at the waistband of his pants and it’s then that the two of you finally separate. 

You’re worried you’re going to find regret in his eyes and excuses on his tongue, but he’s just looking at you intently. 

“Not like this,” he says. “Not here.”

“I don’t want to wait,” you protest, but he shushes you with his mouth. 

“It’ll be worth the wait.” 

And worth the wait it is. 

-

It's sexy at first. Clandestine meetings in dark hallways, sneaking in and out of JT’s apartment that’s on the same floor as Jake Walman’s, covert texts and quiet phone calls where you get off on the sound of each other's voices. 

It doesn’t take long for you to want more, though. To fantasize about not just what his calloused hands can do to your body, but what it would be like to hold one in your own while walking down the street. To show up at a home game and have everyone know you were there to support not only your brother, but JT too. 

It’s a fantasy that is only stoked by the comfort you feel walking around JT’s apartment in just his t-shirt with his number on the shoulder. By nights spent together at his dinner table, on his couch, in his bed. By sweet texts and stupid memes and random photos of things that made him think of you. 

You don’t dare speak your desires out loud though. For fear of JT not wanting the same thing or for fear that he would, you’re not quite sure. 

It’s a tough situation to be in. One where you’re worried you're heading to a fork in the road that has JT on one side and your brother on the other. 

You have no delusions about the two paths eventually forging back together again, know that you’ve come dangerously close to that intersection marked with a big fat caution sign. 

Probably you should speak to JT, get on the same page about where you’ve been and where you’re going. Following that, assuming he secretly yearns for the same thing you do, you should probably then come clean to Dylan. 

Probably you should do a lot of things, but unfortunately what is done in the dark always comes to the light and sometimes it happens quicker than you can make your mind up. 

-

A road win presumably has JT in a good mood. He’s texted you letting you know he’ll be home before midnight, requesting your presence in his bed. 

It’s an easy yes, considering you’re already in the aforementioned bed. It’s nice to get out of Dylan’s house, of the suffocating feeling that you’re intruding in someone else’s home, on someone else’s life. 

There’s really nothing particularly sexy about the way he finds you, but his eyes darken upon finding you curled up in his bed just the same. You’re not attempting to recreate a sexy pose from a boudoir photo shoot, and one of JT’s shirts and a pair of boy shorts aren’t exactly fancy lingerie. 

That doesn’t stop him from dropping his bag dramatically and stripping from his dress shirt and pants. 

“Awfully presumptuous,” you say as if the very fact that you’re in his bed in not much more clothing than he is. 

He shrugs, “Not presuming anything. I’m fine if you just want to sleep, but I’m sure as shit not going to sleep in those dress pants. Bad enough I had to sit through a plane ride like that.”

His tone is teasing, but the implication that he would be just as fine falling asleep beside you as anything else pretty well takes all the fight out of you. 

“C’mere,” you say instead of a catchy comeback, lifting the covers and inviting him into his own bed. 

He wastes no time sliding in beside you and curling up around your body. “Hi.”

You snort and hide your face in his neck. “Corny.”

“I’ll show you corny,” he says, but you shush him by pulling his face closer to yours until your lips brush. 

“Thought I was presumptuous,” he says upon breaking the kiss. 

You roll your eyes—“Shut up.”—and kiss him again. 

He doesn’t manage to keep his mouth shut, but at least this time it’s to slip his tongue into your mouth. 

The temperature of the room rapidly increases—between the weight of his body covering your own and your body’s reaction to his fervid kiss, you feel the need to lose at least one item of clothing. 

“I need—“

Luckily he quickly understands what you’re trying to accomplish by pulling at the hem of your shirt, lifting off of you long enough to assist in removing it from your body. 

He makes a noise of appreciation at the bare skin revealed to him before diving back into your lips, this time with one hand cupping your right breast. 

Appreciative noises of your own build in your throat when that hand slides down your body to dip into your underwear. It’s teasing touches at first, until you reciprocate by cupping him through his boxer-briefs. 

Finally you both shed that last remaining layer, uncaring of where they end up in the bedroom. There’s a brief pause while he rolls on a condom and then he’s entering your body like it was made for him and him alone. 

There’s no rush about his pace, just gentle thrusts and soft moans and sweet praises. 

Sex with JT is so good, better than with anyone else you’ve ever been with. He’s the very opposite of a lazy, selfish lover. It’s like your needs and your pleasure come first, and you certainly do too. 

The positioning of your bodies is so intimate, bodies close, mouths slotted over each other with intermingling breaths. 

You worry you’re getting too caught up in that intimacy, possibly running in a direction not quite warranted and so you seek to depersonalize it a touch. 

“Let me,” you say softly while gently pressing a hand against his shoulder, indicating you want him to lay on his back. He moves willingly, even helping you climb atop him. 

It feels just as good with you on top, and the bit of distance between your upper halves means you can breathe a bit better. 

It’s easy to get lost in the feeling, to tilt your head back and focus on your movements and the feel of his bruising grip on your hips. 

Feeling the pressure build in your stomach, you slide a hand down your abdomen to where your bodies meet while the other grasps your breast just for something to hold on to. The added friction to your clit is pulling you closer and closer as you move on top of him. 

He’s staring up at you with lust filled eyes, mouth open in a mix of awe and pleasure. A look of almost disbelief on his face. His hands are still on your hips, now helping the movement of your body on his when your body lights up like the fourth of July with your orgasm. 

It’s hard to keep moving while in the throes of pleasure, but it’s like JT can read your mind, gripping your hips and thrusting up into you until he finishes too. 

Your whole body tingles as you collapse on top of him, relishing in the feel of his arms wrapping around your body. Leisurely you kiss for a minute, until your heart rate returns to normal and you feel like you’re not likely to fall over when going to the bathroom to clean up. 

When you return, you’ve slipped on one of his shirts once again. There's a soft look on his face as you crawl into bed beside him. It only cracks when you quietly whisper, “should we order pizza?”

“I think you’re the girl of my dreams,” he laughs. 

The room is quiet, filled with only the sounds of your breathing and occasional kissing as you wait for the delivery. 

Finally the doorbell rings. “I got it,” you tell JT and pull on a pair of discarded sweatpants before pulling the drawstring so they don’t fall. 

You don’t bother to check the peephole, certain it’s your food which turns out to be a giant mistake. 

Not only is it not your pizza, it’s also the last person you want to catch you with sex hair in oversized clothing that obviously belongs to the guy you’ve just had sex with. 

Dylan’s mouth has dropped so far down it would be comical if it wasn’t also horrifying. 

“Dylan I–” you start to explain yourself but pause midway through. How could you even begin to explain?

“I can’t believe this.” He shakes his head, hands curling at his side. “Actually no, I can’t believe this from JT, I can definitely believe this from you.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you snap. 

Your brother laughs sardonically, “Well you’re not exactly known for making the right decisions when it comes to relationships.”

JT exits his room, no doubt lured by the loud voices and the lack of food. “Hey man, come on, let's talk about this like adults.”

“Like adults?” Dylan is incensed in a way you’ve never seen before. “Now you want to talk about things like adults? The time to talk was before you started sleeping with my sister behind my back.”

“I’m sorry you found out like this–” JT continues to try to defend himself, defend you while you stand there speechless. 

Dylan interrupts, “Sorry I found out or sorry you got caught?”

JT goes to respond but Dylan cuts him off again. “I trusted you dude. I told you she was off limits, and not only did you ignore me, you went behind my back.” He then turns to you. “And you? My teammate? Seriously? You couldn’t have chosen literally any other douchebag to treat you wrong?”

That snaps you out of your stupor. “JT doesn’t treat me bad!”

A different kind of look crosses your older brother's face then. “Well when he does, don’t come running back to my house and crying to me.” 

Dylan slams the door and you sit in the quiet of the room for a minute with your ears ringing. 

The reality of the situation hits you. 

“I can’t stay there, God not only am I a fuck up but I’m homeless too.”

“You can always stay here,” JT offers and it really bothers you that you can’t tell if he wants you to, or if he’s just offering because of his hand in the most recent blow up of your life. 

“I’m pretty sure his baby sister shacking up with his teammate he doesn’t want her with isn’t exactly going to win me any favors with Dyl,” you reply. 

“Well I’m pretty sure he’d rather you be here than living on the street.”

Ordinarily you think that would probably be true but the look on his face when you opened JT’s door is seared into your mind. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

-

In the end you do move your things into JT’s apartment. Kenzy is the accomplice to your crime, helping you pack your things while the team has practice, wrapping you in her arms and telling you that he just needs some time. 

“He loves you,” she says. 

You’re not so sure. 

That’s probably overdramatic. You’re sure he loves you, and you sure hope he forgives you. You’re just worried that this time you’ve both done and said things you can’t take back and you’re not sure how things will move forward from here. 

It’s not all bad though. 

Living with JT is surprisingly easy, even right one might say. You fit directly into each other's lives like perfect puzzle pieces. His strict routines of practices and morning skates and games—both home and away—allow you the space to complete your own work on your own time. Cooking pregame meals together and curling up beside him when he takes his pregame naps quickly become some of your favorite activities. 

You dance around the feelings talk, never quite broaching the subject. But it can’t feel this right if it’s all one sided, all in your head, right?

He’s even kind enough to let you drive his SUV even though the price tag makes you nervous every time you’re behind the wheel. You’re not a bad driver, as evidenced by the fact JT lets you drive the Audi, but you are possibly on this side of over cautious as a result of a bad car accident in high school. 

Three home games after your fight with Dylan and approximately zero words or text messages exchanged between the two of you, you find yourself in the passenger seat. 

“I could have taken the bus,” you protest weakly, almost knowing exactly what JT’s response will be. 

“Over my dead body,” he laughs, eyes flickering over to you before focusing on the traffic in front of him. “Just pick me up after practice or text me if you’re still out and I’ll find a ride.” 

“I’m not gonna leave you stranded at the arena, of course I’ll be there after you’re done.” 

It’s oddly domestic, kissing JT across the console and then sliding into the driver’s seat that he vacates. You wait as he grabs his gear and walks away, you do really love watching him walk away. 

The moment is cut short by catching a glimpse of your brother's vehicle. He’s not in it, obviously already inside the arena, but the sight of it makes your stomach clench all the same. 

Thoughts of Dylan and his disappointment and worry that he’ll never forgive you flood your mind the entire drive. So much so that when the next light turns green, you let off the gas without realizing that there is a larger SUV running the red. 

It all happens so fast. The screeching of tires, the crunching of metal, the pop of airbags going off and then a blinding pain in your wrist. 

In the end, you’re pushed into the wrong lane of traffic, the other vehicle damn near in the passenger seat you occupied only fifteen minutes ago. There’s a distinct ringing in your ears and you offhandedly wonder if this is what it feels like to get boarded. 

“Are you okay? I’m calling 911.” The words sound like they’re underwater, and it takes you several seconds to realize they’re being spoken to you. Turning your head to the side, you try to get the words out to say you’re fine, but you’re blocked by the airbag that has gone off near your head. 

Emergency services come quickly, a perk of living in Detroit you suppose. Embarrassingly, it takes the jaws of life to peel off the driver's side door to get you out. A cop takes your statement and then you end up in the back of an ambulance. Despite your assurances that you’re fine, one raised eyebrow from the female paramedic and the idea that you’ve probably broken your wrist has you agreeing to the ER visit. 

It’s then that someone asks you if there’s anyone you want to call. Heartbreakingly, your first thought is Dylan and your second thought is you’re not sure he’ll pick up. 

Your third thought is JT and his SUV that you’ve probably totaled. 

One of the paramedics helps you dial the equipment manager’s number, the one you were instructed to only ever use in case of emergencies. If ever there was a reason…

When he picks up the phone, you have to explain that you’ve gotten into a tiny fender bender and if you could please speak with JT and yes I mean JT not Dylan. 

“Are you okay?” JT all but demands when he picks up the phone. 

“I’m totally fine,” you fib, and then concede based on that same female paramedic once again raising an eyebrow. “Okay so I might have broken my wrist but–”

“Which hospital are you going to?” he interrupts. 

You tell him, but try to say, “It’s okay you don’t have to–”

He interrupts again, “I’ll be right there.”

He hangs up quicker than you can ask how he’s going to get there without the car that you’ve wrecked. 

True to his word, he’s sitting on a chair in your hospital room when you return from getting an x-ray. He stands abruptly upon your entrance and takes the three strides to stand in front of you before hesitating, like you’re made of glass. 

You take matters into your own hands and slide your good arm around his back, careful to not jostle your injured wrist. There's a slight tremor to his body that you feel run through yours. 

“I’m okay,” you say comfortingly, rubbing your good hand along his back before pausing. “Your car though….”

The tears are already starting to pool in your waterline as he pulls back. 

His hands slide to cup your jaw as he speaks seriously, “I don’t give a damn about the car. It can be replaced, you can’t.” A tear slips out before you can stop it and he brushes it away with his thumb before kissing you softly. “I care about you. So much. And that phone call scared the shit out of me.”

Despite the less than stellar background and circumstances, his words have your heart leaping in your chest. “I really care about you too,” you whisper and kiss him again. 

“Where is she?” you hear coming down the hall and it occurs to you that your brother is still your emergency contact. 

“Did you tell him?” you ask JT who promptly shakes his head. 

You don’t even have time to step back from JT’s embrace before Dylan comes crashing into the room. JT wisely pulls away and gives Dylan the space to place his hands on your shoulders and scan for any signs of injury. 

“I’m okay,” you reassure him but the words feel hollow considering they’re the first you’ve said to him in more than a week. “Broken wrist they’re gonna cast and probably a concussion. Can’t say the same for the car.”

Eerily similar to JT, Dylan replies, “Cars can be replaced–”

“But I can’t,” you say in unison with him. “I know, JT said the same thing.” 

It’s like Dylan remembers his teammate then, eyes sliding over to where JT stands and then back down to your slowly purpling wrist. 

The room is silent except for the sounds of medical equipment and the faint sounds occurring outside the door. 

“I’m sorry,” you say in unison with your brother again. 

“No, I'm sorry,” he says first. “I’m your big brother and I’ve seen you get your heart broken too many times. I’m always going to worry about you but I was out of line.”

“I’m sorry we went behind your backs and I’m sorry you found out that way. We should have just talked to you, I should have just talked to you.” 

“Truce?” he asks, like you’re 10 and 11 again, fighting over something silly and trivial. 

“Truce,” you confirm, hissing when you knock your broken wrist as you pull him in for a hug. 

Later, when you’ve gotten over the guilt of totaling JT’s barely used Audi and the cast on your wrist is long gone,  it’ll be a fun story to tell at parties. About how it took an idiot running a red light for you to define your relationship with JT and to reconcile with your brother. 

[cakerybakery]

Adam and Lucifer have been a sort of friends with benefits, thing, for a few months now. It had been a while since he’d come back as a sinner.

They were both trying to play it casual. Sneaking around cause it’s supposed to be casual and Lucifer didn’t want Charlie thinking it was a thing and getting excited only to be disappointed before (when) they stopped, cause it was casual so obviously they weren’t going to be forever.

Even though Lucifer was caught giving Adam a t-shirt as a gift, and they both lied and said it was Adam’s birthday. Even though he doesn’t have one.

They hung out on not dates. It wasn’t a big deal.

And when they have sleep overs, Lucifer just portals one of them back to their own room in the morning. Nice and easy

But that morning Adam looked rather cute asleep, and Lucifer figured he could just go down and maybe get some breakfast and bring it back up for Adam and him. Have a little breakfast in bed.

He grabbed his shirt and pyjama bottoms off the ground.

They’d stayed up late the night before. They fucked yeah, but also the season finally of their tv show was a two parter and so they had curled up in bed to cuddle as they watched it. He was a little groggy.

Lucifer wandered down to the kitchen yawning.

“Mornin’” Lucifer muttered as chipper as he could be given how tired he was.

“Uhh, morning, dad.” Charlie smiled but it was a little tight around the edges.

His own smile wavered as he wondered if everything was okay.

Lucifer got down a coffee mug and poured a cup. He’d need the caffeine. They had a not date that night.

The opera house was showcasing a collection of Tchaikovsky’s best work and Adam was excited to go. Heaven’s version of the music had gotten a little boring after a while, according to Adam, but the one in hell was a little more theatrical and in Adam’s words, “fucked a lot harder”.

Adam had had ways around the parental locks up in heaven meant to keep things more pg. It made his band rather popular for more than just having him in it. But he was enjoying that he could just see shows and things without needing to skirt rules that dumbed things down or made it nicer for souls.

Lucifer pulled down a second cup.

It was good that they did have some music tastes in common. Rock wasn’t strictly Lucifer’s genre of choice but he did like some of it that Adam introduced him to. And he recognized some pieces just having heard them and not realized.

Adam got so excited about things like music.

His eyes lit up and he had so much fun. It was good to see since he’d been so miserable when he first fell.

After a while they commiserated together over shared pains. One thing had turned into another as one glass of wine turned to another. Soon they’d kissed.

Weeks later they did it again.

Then again.

Then they went to the movies where they entwined their pinkies in the dark and leaned a little against each other. Afterwards they went back to Lucifer’s room. In the morning Lucifer opened a portal to Adam’s room so no one would see them.

“Uhh, dad?”

Lucifer startled. He’d forgotten the others were there. “Hmm? Yes, sweetie?”

Charlie tapped her nails nervously against her own mug. “You, well, you poured two cups of coffee.”

Shit.

Shit. Shit!

Fuck.

“Oh. I guess I spaced out.” He gave a hollow laugh to try and mask his mistake as a different sort of mistake. “Must be a two cup day, good thing I already have two.”

Lucifer tried to leave but he bumped into Alastor as he turned, barely keeping the coffee from spilling.

“Why, good morning, your majesty.” Alastor gave a mock bow of his head.

He rolled his eyes and almost pushed past Alastor, because like hell he was going to go around the fucker. You moved for the king, not the other way around. But Alastor spoke before he could keep going.

“How sweet of you.” Alastor might be all smiles but his eyes never agreed with his mouth. “Bringing Adam coffee in bed this morning? I assume you’re in your room today.”

Lucifer nearly dropped his mugs and his jaw. “Wha-“

“After all, you two didn’t stay in his room.” Alastor moved out of Lucifer’s way but Lucifer couldn’t take a step.

He clenched the mugs and there was a slight crack as Lucifer gripped too hard.

“I do appreciate it when you stay in your room. I can’t hear your activities through the wall I share with him when you both retire to your suite for the night.”

The mug dripped hot coffee over Lucifer’s hand through the cracks.

“Oh dear.” Alastor’s tone mocked. “Was it supposed to be a secret? I assumed you two were telling people. Seeing as you’re wearing the shirt you got him for his birthday.”

Lucifer looked down at the Duckysaurus shirt he’d picked up off the floor and his face lit up like a bonfire. It hung loose on him. There was no way he could try to claim that he bought his own, but he tried to stammer through an explanation he didn’t remember the details of anyway.

“And the two coffee mugs?” Alastor pressed.

“I-“ fuck!

Fuck!

Fuck!

FUCK!

What had he said? What was it? He closed his eyes, pressing them together. Trying to remember.

A hand covered his. He opened his eyes and Charlie was looking at him.

“Dad. Maybe we should talk in private.” She lead his hands to the counter to put down the broken mugs.

As she hooked her arm in his and as she dragged him away he could head Vaggie ask Alastor why he did that.

“Perhaps I wasn’t clear. I can hear them through the wall!”

The trip up to Charlie’s office was quiet. She didn’t look angry, but she didn’t look happy either.

“Sit.” She let him go and he sank into one of the overstuffed chairs in her office as she leaned against her desk in front of him.

It cut too close to home and reminded him of being scolded by the other angels back in heaven, and she hadn’t even said anything yet.

“Is what Alastor says true?”

He opened his mouth and shut it again. He flushed and looked away, covering his mouth to try and hide his embarrassment.

“So yes.” Charlie sighed. “I’ll have a talk with Alastor about outing other people’s business then.”

She gripped the edge of the desk hard and he winced as her nails dug into the wood.

“Char-“

“It’s none of my business. If you wanted me to know, you would have told me.”

“It’s not-“ he started. Lucifer rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at his rubber duck themed pyjama bottoms and bare hooves. He muttered more to himself than speaking to Charlie. “It’s not serious or anything.”

“You don’t have to-“ Charlie pushed herself away from the desk and moved to the window. “It’s not like you and mom are going to get back together. I’m just... I don’t know.” She wrapped her arms around herself, she look to the ground.

Lucifer got up from his seat, “Charlie.” He didn’t want to move. Fear twisted in his heart.

What if she reject his attempt to comfort her? Rejected him?

He took a step and reached for her.

She turned and hugged him tight.

Lucifer wrapped his arms around her. Burying his face in her shoulder.

“I just didn’t want to get you excited for something that wasn’t going to work out.” He pulled her closer as his face started to burn and his eyes started to water. “He’ll leave one day. And it’s better not to get attached.”

She squeezed back just as hard. “Oh Dad.” Charlie said sadly as she pulled back to look him in the eyes. “You love him, don’t you?”

“What?” He laughed. Lucifer wiped away an errant tear as his slide down his face. “No. That would be-“ He took her hands in his and looked away. “Stupid. Really stupid of me.”

Charlie pulled him back into a hug and squeezed him until he thought he was going to pop.

Lucifer hugged her back.

“Love is never stupid.” She said into his ear. “Come on. Tell me about Adam.”

He laughed but those stupid tears were back. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Anything.” She pulled him to the window seat and they cuddled. “I just want you to let me in a bit.”

Charlie rested her head on his. “You live here now, but you’re still a million miles away. You’re here.” She squeezed him, “but you’re not here.”

“I’m sorry.”

When did his little girl get so big? So observant?

“I don’t mean to be.”

“I know, dad.”

The lapsed into silence for a bit. Just enjoying each other’s company before Lucifer spoke.

“He’s nice.” What could he say? “He’s brash. And swears like a sailor in a storm. But he’s fun. And Adam can be thoughtful too. He doesn’t care if anyone knew about us, it was just me. He snuck around for me.”

They talked and Lucifer kept finding more things to say about Adam. Things that annoyed him and made Charlie laugh. “Vaggie does the exact same thing. Seeing them together. It’s funny, it’s like he’s her dad.”

“That stumpy walk when they’re mad!”

“Oh and how they both go, ‘babe’.” Charlie giggled.

Lucifer snorted a laughed. “Ohhh! The drill sergeant voice.”

“Listen up maggots!” Charlie tried to impersonate Vaggie.

“Yeah!” Lucifer was having a fit of laughter. “That’s totally them. I took Adam to a concert and some fucker tried to mug us. Adam had him doing push-ups. “Fifty more, maggot!” It was so hot.” He flushed realizing he just called Adam hot in front of Charlie.

She breezes past it though. “So you guys go on dates?”

“Not dates. But we hang out. Alone.” He put his on his knees and kept wiggling his hooves together. “Like going to the movies. Concerts. We get dinner.”

“Those sound like dates.”

Maybe they were.

“He’s not staying. Adam’s trying to get back to heaven. We can’t be together.”

“But you want him to stay.”

Lucifer nodded.

Charlie’s fingers brushed through his bed head. He could feel her twisting small strands together and braiding little pieces of his hair. Lucifer let her play with his hair in the silence.

“Have you asked him to?”

“He hasn’t.” Adam spoke up from the doorway.

Lucifer jolted as he was startled.

Adam was shirtless and just in the sweat pants he wore as pyjamas. His chest was hairy and his stomach chubby, it was hard not to just sink into the harsh man’s soft body.

“Adam-“ Lucifer went to get up but Adam gestured for him to stay and Adam came to him.

He took a seat on the other side of Lucifer. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

A hand took Lucifer’s.

“I talked to heaven. Told Sera I was going to keep working on my shit, but that I wanted to stay down here.”

“You did?” He asked hesitantly.

Adam nodded. “Actually. Charlie got me in touch with a therapist and I’ve been going once a week to talk about crap that wouldn’t be fair to lay on my kind of boyfriend’s kid to help sort out. Shit about Eden and Eve. Crap about falling and shit from heaven.”

Pulling the hand to his lips, Adam kissed it. “I figured if I wanted this to work I should probably work on the shit that drove Lilith and Eve away.”

“If-“ Lucifer couldn’t take his eyes off their hands. “If I asked you to stay…”

“Are you asking?”

He bit his lip, the fear of rejection trying to harden his heart. Lucifer nodded.

“I’d love to stay.”

“Excellent to hear.” Alastor interrupted the tender moment. “Can I assume you’ll be moving into Lucifer’s room? Or better yet, his house. I’ll help you pack.”

Adam smiled even as Lucifer swore and Charlie gave a sharp, “Alastor!”

“Oh no, Al. My dear grandchild. I’d say it’s much too soon to move in together. But I think we’re likely to stay over with each other much more often.”

They both fake laughed and Alastor turned to Charlie. “I’d like to change rooms.”

-

This was supposed to be a funny bit about a neat t-shirt I saw that said duckysaurus and had a dino rubber duck on it.

[ladykailitha]

Grief (A Friend Indeed) Part 6

And we're back on this story. I didn't get as much Halloween stories in as I wanted, but there is still a week and half left in the month so I might get a couple of one-shots out before the big day. I have one with the older teens dressing up as RHPS characters for a midnight showing I'm part of the way through that might get done in time. We'll see.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

***

Eddie hadn’t seen Steve in close to an hour and it was starting to worry him.

He been bombarded with commiseration after commiseration from friends of his grandma and their families. All the Munson family was already here.

Almost.

As far as Eddie knew, Al Munson was still in some jail in Texas for grand theft auto. His third strike in the state of Texas. Who knows how many strikes he had in other states. Wayne wasn’t telling, and Eddie wasn’t asking.

He was standing there in his best jeans and nice black button up. It wasn’t what he was going to wear to the funeral, Wayne had raised him better than that. But he thought it was nice for a wake.

And it wasn’t as though Steve was dressed up either. He was wearing khakis and a grey Henley.

But all around him Eddie could feel the eyes of the other mourners, looking at him, judging him, and absolutely finding him wanting.

He stood in the corner, sinking further and further from view as he felt assaulted by their glares.

Suddenly there was a warm hand on his back and voice in his ear telling him to take a walk outside with him.

He let Steve lead him out of the house and onto the porch.

Steve pulled out a cigarette and lit it, handing it to Eddie and then lighting one of his own.

“You grandma must have been one hell of a lady to have that many mourners at her wake,” Steve said after a moment or two of smoking in silence.

Eddie snorted. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, pretty boy. This is just close friends and family. Tomorrow’s gonna be the real shindig. It’s going to be standing room only in the church.” He paused. “Ah, shit. That’s going to be okay, right? Going to a Catholic church?”

Steve scoffed. “Yeah, that’s fine. Not religious myself. Kinda hard to be when you’ve seen the worst of humanity and actual fucking monsters.”

Eddie look a long drag of his cigarette. “I feel that. Stopped believing in God when I heard that AIDS was one of God’s modern plagues against the unrighteous.”

Steve shook his head. “That fucking blows. I figure if there was a Jesus, he was like El, you know? Just extra human, no God required.”

Eddie laughed. “Yeah. I bet that’s what it was. Thanks for that.” He raised his cigarette. “And this.”

Steve bumped their shoulders together. “No trouble, Eds. I could hear what they were saying about you behind your back and I thought you could use the break.”

“You thought right, Stevie,” he agreed. “Not a Christian heart in a single one of those church goers.”

Steve hummed. “This is what I’m here for on this trip, okay? I will put myself between you and those hateful people.”

Eddie laid his head on Steve’s shoulder. “God, it’s on top of everything else, you know. The six hour drive yesterday. My aunt being a bitch to you even though you didn’t deserve it. Putting on my second best clothes and still not being good enough for them.”

“They look at you and see your dad, huh?”

Eddie froze bringing the cigarette to his mouth and turned to Steve in shock. “How the hell did you know that?”

Steve shrugged. “My parents used to throw these big parties for Christmas and their anniversary. Like BIG parties. Blow your uncle’s yearly wages on a fucking party, big. The last was when I was sixteen, right? And I could hear all the whispers about how much I looked like him and how I must be just like him. Booze, women, and lavish parties full of people that wanted to kiss my ass.”

The cigarette fell out of Eddie’s mouth and landed on his lap. He brushed it off quickly, cursing and patting at his crouch so that he wouldn’t get burned.

Steve laughed.

“Fuck you.”

Eddie stomped out the cigarette to ease his bruised ego. He huffed out a sigh. “Is that part of the reason for the attitude change? Because everyone credits Nancy and Jonathan for the cognitive readjustment, but it started before that.”

Steve frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Before you started dating Nancy, you stopped the big parties at your house,” Eddie said. “Hagan told me it was because your dad caught you, but that wasn’t it, was it?”

Steve’s eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. “Holy shit. I didn’t even realize.”

“You started to clean up your act for Nancy, sure,” he continued. “But you started down that path before you started dating.”

Steve stubbed out his cigarette. “I saw you listening to Depeche Mode earlier when we had finished cleaning up the house...”

Eddie straightened up. He had listened to the tape. The song Lauren had queued up for him, especially. That one over and over.

“You into BDSM there, Stevie boy?” he said with a teasing grin.

Steve laughed. “Oh god, that one. Yeah, no, man. You know the song I mean.”

“You want to tell me what went down there?” Eddie asked. “Don’t spare Nancy for the sake of my feelings, okay? You’re more important to me then some chick.”

“She had a thing for Jonathan,” he explained. “Broke up with me for a month and then came running back. I didn’t think too much of it, you know? I was just happy that she was back. I tried to be the best boyfriend I could. I don’t think I succeeded. Then I made the mistake of using the words ‘normal teenagers’ because I wanted to go to some Halloween party.”

Steve let out a shuddering breath. “She started drinking heavily that night. Like more than someone her stature should. I tried to get her stop and I spilled the drink all down her white dress. So we went to the bathroom to clean it up. She called me bullshit. Said our relationship was bullshit.”

“Holy fucking hell, dude,” Eddie whispered.

Steve shook his head. “I thought it was just a bad fight. Even though everyone at school was calling it a breakup. I didn’t believe it. I bought her flowers to apologize. Fucking roses.” He was on his feet and pacing back and forth, running his fingers through his hair. “But she wasn’t home. Oh no. Her and Jonathan were on a fact-finding mission. And a fuck finding mission, apparently.”

Eddie leaned forward in shock. “She slept with Jonathan?”

Steve stopped, frozen still. He took a deep breath and let it out slow. “I still thought we were dating. She didn’t. It’s why I don’t tell people. Because she thinks she didn’t cheat on me and I think she did.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he said, looking down at his stark white tennis shoes in utter despair.

Eddie was on his feet and giving Steve a huge hug. “Thank you for telling me. I get why the music spoke to you and I won’t begrudge anyone loving music that helped them through rough times, okay?”

Steve nodded into Eddie neck, trying to not to sob.

When Aunt Penny came out a while later she found both boys just crying into each other’s arms.

“Boys,” she said gently. “It’s time for the toast to Gina.”

They reluctantly let go of each other and wiped their faces with their hands.

Wayne handed them glasses when they entered the front room. Penny picked up her glass.

“To Gina Munson!”

“Salut!” they all cheered.

Eddie and Steve knocked back their drinks with the rest of them.

There was more socializing after the toast, but this time Eddie had Steve at his side and every time they glared at Eddie, Steve would wink at them causing them to flush in embarrassment and turn away.

Finally everyone had gone, the food had been cleared away and the mess cleaned up.

Eddie and Steve silently made their way to the room they shared.

“I wanted to thank you for earlier,” Eddie said as they slowly got ready for bed.

Steve straightened up from where he had been pulling on his pajama bottoms. “For what?”

“For everything, I guess,” Eddie murmured. “For fending off bullshit...not even relatives, but friends of the family, I guess. For telling me about Nancy even though it was clear you didn’t want to. For coming on this trip in the first place. I probably would have thrown hands already if it wasn’t for you.”

Steve pulled up his pants and padded over to him to pull him into a hug. “I do it for any of our friends, Eds. But I’m glad I’m helping. I’m glad that you told me you needed me for this.”

“Single best decision of my life so far,” Eddie mumbled into Steve’s neck. “Wayne thinks so too.”

Steve laughed. “Well if Wayne says so it must be true.”

Eddie chuckled. “He is pretty smart.”

They crawled into bed and faced each other under the blanket.

“What’s really bothering you, Eds?” Steve whispered. “I can tell there’s something bothering you, but I can’t figure it out.”

Eddie pursed his lips. “It’s the stares and snide remarks, I guess. I know that like back home they all think I did it. That I killed Chrissy and Patrick and Fred. That I’m just like my dad. Maybe even worse.”

Steve pulled him close. “We know the truth. Wayne knows the truth. The people that love you know the truth. You’re a bona fide hero, Eddie Munson. They can all burn in hell if there is one.”

Eddie shook his head. “It’s more than that, I think. It’s that despite seeing me for a month every summer, that they would even think me capable of such violence. I had grown up with these people. How could they think that of me?”

“Small-minded people will always think the worst of you,” Steve murmured. “I know, it sucks. But here’s the best part about being an adult. If you wanted to, you never have to see them again in your life. You can cut them out and that’s all the say they have in the matter.”

Eddie sighed. “Thanks.”

Steve just held on until they both fell asleep.

*

The day of the funeral dawned cloudy and grey as if nature, too, grieved the loss of Gina Munson. Cherished wife, beloved mother, and devoted grandmother.

Eddie and Steve dressed in solemn silence. Eddie pulled on a pair of black high-waisted trousers that he had found at a thrift store before they left. He put on the black button up from the night before and rolled up the sleeves. Over the top went a nice dark grey vest. He wore his nice, white sneakers. He strapped on bracelets and bangles on his wrists and chains and necklaces around his scar on his neck.

His wasn’t as noticeable as Steve’s but he had had enough of his grandmother and aunt’s friends eyes flicking toward it and sneering last night to last a life time thank you.

Steve was dressed similarly. The nice black slacks, the black button up (buttoned neatly at his wrists), a dark grey sweater vest. He wore a suit coat over the top and nice silver tie. His shoes were shined mirror bright and his hair artfully done.

Wayne, Steve and Eddie decided to all go in Steve’s car to the funeral. They pulled into the spots reserved for family and made their way into the church. As Eddie predicted it was standing room only. They walked all the way up the aisle to where the first row had been designated for the family, too.

They sat down and the service began.

Eddie sat there, tears streaming down his face, tucked into Wayne’s arm. Steve took his hand and held on as the Father droned on and on about the life of a good woman.

The pallbearers stood up. Wayne, Oliver, Eddie, Danny, and two good friends of Gina’s lifted her coffin onto their shoulders and marched down the aisle to “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” played on the organ.

They carried the casket out into the cemetery and slid her gently onto the straps that would be used to lower her into grave.

Eddie moved back to stand next to Steve and looked out into the crowd.

He stiffened as he spotted someone near the front of the throng of people paying their respects.

Steve followed his eyes to the man standing next to a portly fellow in a black suit.

He had dark curly hair shaved on the sides. He had a neatly trimmed beard that highlighted the sharpness of his jawline. His cheekbones were as hard as his jaw and eyes. It was the eyes that really struck Steve. They were the same color as Eddie’s but so, so cold.

He bowed his head and Steve could see that his hands were clasped in front of him.

Or so he thought.

The cold man shifted from one foot to the other and Steve could see the glint of the handcuffs.

There was no doubt on who this was now.

Allen “Al” Munson had been allowed to come to his mother’s funeral.

***

Pt 7|Pt 8|Pt 9|Pt 10|Pt 11|Pt 12

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @emly03 @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @vecnuthy @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @gutterflower77 @genderless-spoon @hel-spawn @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @mamafaithful @yikes-a-bee @dragonmama76

[blkdaddie]

As I pulled into the school pick-up line, I couldn't help but notice the familiar faces of the other fathers. We were all in the same boat, waiting patiently for our precious little ones. Today, the line was unusually long, giving us ample time to chat. 'Hey, Billy,' I greeted the stay-at-home dad of six with a tired smile. 'How's the brood holding up?' Billy chuckled, adjusting his swollen belly. 'They're keeping me on my toes, as always. But wouldn't have it any other way.'

'I can only imagine,' I replied. 'I'm still getting used to the idea of being a dad again.' 'I always wanted to have a big family,' Joe said, his voice wistful. ‘ My ex-husband and I had our daughter, and she's the light of my life. I thought we would have more but he said no and it was a dealbreaker for me. I still dream of having more kids but finding a partner who wants a broody single dad is the hard part.' Ethan, a newlywed, interjected with a hesitant tone. 'Guys, I think I might be pregnant again,' he said, his face a mixture of excitement and trepidation. 'I've been having some... symptoms.' Ethan fidgeted nervously, his mind racing with thoughts. 'I'm not sure if I'm ready for another round,' he said. 'My wife and I just got married, and our first is only in Pre-K. But I've been having these strange symptoms…' 'Like what?' Toby asked, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. 'Tender breasts, fatigue, and nausea. I think I might be pregnant again,' Ethan whispered, his voice filled with a mix of excitement and trepidation. The other fathers erupted in a chorus of laughter and congratulations. 'Welcome to the club, buddy!' Billy exclaimed.

Toby, an older dad nearing the end of his pregnancy via IVF, smiled gently. 'Ah, the joys of fatherhood,' he sighed. 'My breasts are so swollen, I can barely fit into my shirt.' We all nodded in commiseration but our conversation was cut short by the ringing of the bell and a wave of shouting kids. There will be plenty of time to talk; from the looks of our group, there are years of school pick ups and PTA meetings to go.

[hausofmamadas]

JOHNNY DAVIS | Cheers to a (real) wild one

The Bikeriders (2023)

∴

At the request of my beloved df (dear friend) @narcolini, who wrote this fucking FIIIIREEEEEEEE disgusting, amazing, beautiful, ridiculous, obscenely and downright upsettingly well-written Johnny Davis x Reader fic -> called white room, and also brought my attention to the s e v e r e lack of Johnny gifs out on the interwebs, I am hereby dumping some of my fav Johnny moments from The Bikeriders aka just S.E. Hinton’s The Outsiders for grownups nvm that they’re contemporary stories shshhhhh shhh it still works. So that we may all join hands together in a kumbayah-my-lordt prayer circle to levitate to the ceiling chanting spells appreciate and enjoy and gaze creepily lovingly at his beautiful, grizzled bisexually lovestruck sweet bb angel face that launched a thousand choppers eat your heart out Helen you got nothin on our golden boy and so that my df (dear friend) might regale us with additional installments of possibly the most in-character fanfic I’ve read in my life bc this man is in their bones, yall, dejame do TELLLL you like seriously go check it out, pls and thnku.

And so, without further ado I present to you the tumblr equivalent of my 7th grade diorama honoring golden boy, Johnny Davis:

Yeah, so this👇here is just him being fucking perfect and adorable, laughing at his malewife Benny’s red-light/stop-sign-running shenanigans, pretending like he’s not half as in love with him as he clearly is, him being so perfect it stuck in my memory, like gum to a subway seat and I knew, before I even got the request, before I even started screenrecording, that I was forsure, 1000000% gonna gif these

This👇here is him being fucking perfect, gazing sexily from across the bar, pretending he ain’t the big man in charge, going over to assure a reasonably sketched out Kathy of her unequivocal safety in his bar, all rolling up his sleeves, casually slow-walking over, like he doesn’t own the damn place even tho he abs does, like idc if it’s not canon (tbh bc I only saw the movie twice) but no one will convince that man’s name is not on the deed to that bar bc that’s the kinda guy Johnny is

Oh this👇one right here is just him being a perfect fucking commiserate professional club leader, offering to fight some dude who was challenging Her Majesty’s crown bc Her Majesty won’t let said dude start a Milwaukee chapter get real Milwaukee, you don’t even go here even tho after the fight, Her Majesty Johnny’s just gonna fuckin let the dude start it anyway, he wants to test a homie’s dedication, bc that’s the kinda guy Johnny is

These ones👇here are just him being fucking dreamy and perfect, all enjoying a Sunday afternoon ride into the sunset with his malewife Benny the fam, hair blowing in the breeze, ain’t got a care in the world bc that’s the kinda guy Johnny is

This here👇is him being fucking perfect, doing his best Brando-mugging at the camera, cigarette expertly hanging out his mouth by a thread, eyebrows up nearly to his hairline, all squinting like he about to fail a vision test at the DMV n giving them no choice but to take his driver’s license away, except jokes on them bc nothing and I mean n o t h i n g can keep him away from these mean streets or from his girlfriend that’s he knows is way too cool for him, Benny bc that’s the kinda guy Johnny is

This here👇is him being fucking perfect and positively heartbroken getting the news that his malewife has been attacked by some clowns in a bar from my malewife, a one Ponyboy-coded, Mr. Cal from California aka Boyd Holbrook in greaser drag and I normally am so not for blondies but by god am I here for that and plotting his inevitable revenge on those no-good mfs who did his girl so dirty, nearly taking away her ability to ride bc that’s the kinda guy Johnny is

This here👇is him being fucking perfect exacting said vengeance on behalf of his malewife, Benny aka The Girl Everyone Wants To Take To The Prom by finding the dudes who beat him up and then setting the bar on fire for good measure bc gottdammmititfkdjd nobody messes with MAH WOMAN bc that’s the kinda guy Johnny is. It’s also him hilarious with the comedic timing like look at how funny his face is just telling Brucie to burn it down SKSKSK

And this here👇is him being fucking perfect, watching the world burn enjoying the fruits of his labor, a Labor Of Love in fact, bc that’s the kinda fuckin guy Johnny is

And what’s more gold than that, right guys?? Never change. Stay gold, Johnny. Stay gold.

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taglist: @drabbles-mc, @when-did-this-become-difficult, @complete-nonsequitur, @ashlingiswriting since yall read the fic