#i was so prepared to get a bottle of hard liquor and have a breakdown in front of my entire office

[lupismaris]

We have survived the traditional winter ritual sacrifice known as The White Elephant. Praise be.

[xxx-cat-xxx]

Razzmatazz

TW alcohol consumption and mention of alcoholism. Thanks to @whumphoarder for beta reading and @newnewyorker93 for your support!

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For all the ways Rhodey mentally prepared himself to find his best friend the weekend after his breakup, he somehow missed adding singing along to 90s pop to the list. 

“Noone’s gonna care if you don’t ca-all when you said,” Tony screams off-key in a fake British accent along with the vocals blasting through the workshop.

Bit of an obvious choice, Rhodey thinks, recognising the lyrics, but keeps that to himself. What he calls into the room instead is, “Anyone home?”

“Platypus, so good you’re here!” Tony’s voice comes from somewhere behind half a mountain of old Iron Man suit parts that currently take up most of the workshop’s assembly platform. “Come ‘ere, you have to check this out!” 

Rhodey obediently steps towards the source of the noise and finds his friend in dirty black jeans and an even dirtier undershirt in front of a virtual wall of holographic screens, motor oil and a smug grin decorating his face. “All these little things…” he hums, swinging his hips and suggestively wiggling an eyebrow at Rhodey when he comes into view.

I don’t care, Tony’s attitude says. 

I care way too much, Rhodey reads in his always-too-expressive eyes, in the way he pops the consonants just a little bit too hard, and in the half-empty bottle of Bourbon he’s gripping loosely. Rhodey notices the last thing with a tinge of sadness―Pepper had just gotten Tony to limit the hard liquor exclusively to weekends and parties. But then, if Pepper were still here, none of this would be happening.

“Tune it down a bit, FRI,” Rhodey orders and feels his ears ringing with the sudden lack of noise when the volume drops to less assaulting levels. 

He steps through the virtual screens and lays a hand on Tony’s shoulder, taking in the blue-tinged landscape of multitasking spread out in front of them. The engineer has set down the bottle and is now modifying the design schematics for a pair of glasses that’s inexplicably named BARF.

“These VR glasses or something?” Rhodey asks, frowning at the specifications. 

“You wish.” Tony twists around on his swivel chair and snaps his fingers at Rhodey. “It’s better. Way, way better. But that’s not for tonight.” 

He hits a virtual enter key and then minimises the screen with a flick of his hand, apparently forgetting what it was he’d wanted to show Rhodey originally. Instead, he offers the bottle.  

The sadness in Rhodey’s chest spreads like cold water, settling in to stay, but he accepts the drink, because tonight it’s either both of them getting hammered or Tony inevitably kicking him out after two hours to continue alone, and that’s not happening on his watch. 

So, minutes after midnight, they find themselves driving down the seemingly endless and fortunately empty forest road connecting the compound to the city, more than a little shitfaced. Tony has backtracked another few decades in music history and is now letting Black Sabbath blast into the woods and probably traumatising half a dozen wild bird species.

“This is fun, honeybear!” he shouts, taking his hands off the steering wheel for a dangerously long few seconds to punch Rhodey in the shoulder. “It’s been so long! The taste of freeedom, baby!"

Rhodey doesn’t call him out on his lie; he doesn’t have to. Nor on the drunk driving, because apart from being the world's first self-made superhero and holder of four PhDs, Tony Stark is possibly also the world’s most high-functioning alcoholic, and even in this state, Rhodey knows with certainty that he won’t crash them.

Instead, he just watches him, and waits. For the end of the night, the end of the charade, and the inevitable breakdown.

*

The woman on the porch has voluminous, dark red curls and is wearing nothing but an oversized AC/DC t-shirt, and for a very weird moment, Happy has a vision of Natasha stealing some of Tony’s clothes. Then her face comes into view and he sees that she’s got at least 15 years on Nat. Well. 

When she kisses Pepper good-bye on the lips, he turns reflexively to check the opposite side of the street for paparazzi. Not strictly necessary in this part of the city, but old habits die hard.

“Nice evening?” he asks conversationally when Pepper deposits first her oversized handbag, and then herself, into the backseat. 

“Very nice,” his boss responds with a sweet smile on perfectly red-painted lips. “This was long overdue.” 

Happy winks at her through the rearview mirror and pulls out of the parking space, joining the early morning traffic jams of tiredness. 

“Thanks for picking me up,” Pepper says. “I’d have taken a cab, but I got a high-level call with China in twenty that I wouldn’t want any of the taxi drivers to overhear.”

“No worries,” he assures, then curses when he narrowly misses a blindly opened door of an SUV half stopped on the sidewalk. “Amateurs,” he hisses. 

By the time they leave Douglaston, Pepper is already scrolling through her phone, the relaxed smile from earlier replaced by a tightness around her lips and a slight crease on her forehead. Happy doesn’t have to ask what she’s doing. He’s well aware of her morning ritual―knows that she’s going through the email alerts she set for the mention of Tony Stark, knows that the tensed facial expressions will only disappear once she’s positive that Tony didn’t get killed, kidnapped, or taken into police custody the previous night. 

“Pepper…”

“Stop reading in cars, I know I know,” she waves off without looking up. 

Happy wasn’t about to say that, but he doesn’t disagree. Instead, almost softly, he adds: “He’s fine.” 

“Yeah.” She nods and closes her eyes briefly, exhaling. Glances back down at her phone. 

“I texted with Rhodey this morning. Long night, they’re both hungover, but otherwise alright. Now stop before you actually make yourself sick.” 

Relief blooms on her face for the fraction of a second before she catches herself and covers it with professional indifference. “Good to know,” she says, in a tone as if he’d told her there might be snow tomorrow. 

And if Happy was any other person, he’d probably let out a sigh loud enough to wake the whole block. But he’s a boxer-driver-forehead-of-security and friend, so he just takes a deep inhale, in through the mouth and out through the nose, and turns on the radio. 

And quietly smiles to himself when his boss declines the offer to drive her back to Douglaston tonight. 

Because Pepper and Tony might not know it yet, but there's a small piece of jewellery hidden away in the pocket of his suit jacket, the weight of which tells him their story's far from over.

___

All my fics

Pepperony Series

[dadzawa-adopt-dabi]

secret baby ch7

Chapter 7

Hawks is exhausted during patrol. It seems like he can never get enough sleep lately. Not since Touya, did what he did. Since he blackmailed Hawks and left him wondering what exactly he could have done to make him stay. If someone like him could have made someone like Dabi stay anyways. 

He no longer goes out clubbing at night. It’s not a huge loss. He had only been going out as an excuse to run into Touya anyways. He doesn't think he can try and find someone new yet.

He leaves his phone on at night just in case Touya calls. It only rings when the Hero commision calls demanding he gets somewhere as fast as he can.

He starts showing up to Hero training early. He’s never been able to sleep in an empty apartment and would rather be working towards something than lounging in bed. Sometimes he starts training at dawn and sometimes he starts well before. Hawks throws himself into heroics with a new passion, he stops complaining about the long hours and aching muscles. He wants to believe that if he climbs high enough in the rankings when he debuts Touya will think he’s worthy of being the number 2 hero’s son's mate , boyfriend, friend, anything. It’s bullshit, Hawks knows where he started out, knows he owes every inch of progress to luck and the grueling training the commision puts him through.

“Hey, we're getting lunch.” Miroku interrupts his internal moping and patrol. She throws an arm around his shoulder to trap him on the ground with her. He wants to be upset at the action but her scent envelops him and he finds it too soothing to be upset at her. Unblocked omega scent with notes of carmel and grass.

“Sure, I get a break in a couple hours.” Hawks answers knowing she hadn’t actually been asking.. He knows that eventually she would come around and start asking questions. She had actually left him to come to her longer than he had given her credit for. He loved Rumi like a sister but damn she was noisy.

“Nope now, it's been weeks and you've been dodging me.” She grabs his hand and drags him along to a nearby restaurant. They have a diverse menu and it's usually their first pick for eating out. They can both get something they want and Hawks can avoid getting in trouble with the hero commision for ‘showing off’ his predatory appetite again.

“I'm worried about you, when was the last time you took a break?”  She asked after their waiter took their orders for drinks and left them with menus. Cutting straight to the point. 

“What breaks”Hawks laughs and resists the urge to order something alcoholic. He has to go straight back to patrol after this. 

“Is this about that boyfriend? Did you guys break up?” She grins sharply, digging for juicy details.

“He wasn't my boyfriend, we weren't anything. We broke up, there was,he got pregnant.” He really wants that drink now. He’s worked too hard to end up like his parents though. Fuck does he want that drink. Something hard enough to make this conversation hurt less and then something to help him sleep until he feels like facing his problems like an adult.

“Wh- HOLY SHIT KEIGO” Miruko swallows her drink wrong and has to cough hard to clear her throat. Her scent changing to shock and excitement for him. She never wears blockers so the changes are easy to distinguish. She’s the closest thing Hawks has to pack and he doesn't want to do this to her.

“Would you shut up Rumi? I was supposed to leave that name behind, remember?” Hawks hisses and gives up looking dignified for the moment and puts his head into his hands. He doesn't really want to have this conversation. However he also can’t stand the thought of no one else knowing about his baby.

“What happened to the boyfriend then? The baby? Where is he? Hawks you've always wanted to start a family.” She sounds so happy for him. Already supportive despite how young Hawks is and the fact that she knows nothing about Touya.

“He um,Rumi it wasn't my choice to make. He didn't want to keep them and I couldn't-.” There wasn’t going to be a mate and a baby in his future. 

“He had,fuck, Hawks I’m so sorry.” It's a dam near whisper and neither of them move to eat when the food comes. Hawks doesn't think he’s ever heard her this sympathetic before. It just makes him feel worse. She probably has better things to do right now.

“ wasn’t my choice to make. “

“So what happened to him? Are you two going to try and work through it or?”

“I don't know Rumi, he just disappeared. I can’t get a hold of him. I just, I wish I knew what I did that caused him to run off.” his eyes water and he wipes at them.

“I’m so sorry Hawks. There’s no hint to what scared him off?”

“I think he just didn’t want to be with me. He ignored me for a while and then he just showed up out of nowhere to drop the news on me and get some help to -to , he needed money for it, and i gave it to him.”

“He did - what? What the hell Hawks! Why did you let him do that? Who does this omega think he is?” 

“I’m pretty sure that he had something personal going on Rumi. For a while I had thought there was some kind of past abuse going on. He threatened to go to the press, so I gave him the money. It was his choice in the end either way b- but I didn’t even get a chance to talk about it with him.It’s probably for the best anyways,It's not like I really have time for a kid right now anyways. Not if i want to be anything like Enji, and be a top hero.” Hawks tried to refocus. He just had to focus and be determined like Endeavor. He also doesn't want to have a breakdown in the middle of a restaurant. He’s held himself together so far, he can do so for a little longer.

“I don't get your obsession with that guy? You have a crush on him or something?” Rumi finally grabbed her salad and gracefully took the hint at the much needed subject change. Her scent was still heavy with sorrow and she was also trying to send calm at him. Hawks wanted to just give up and let her comfort him and let her familiar scent wash over him.

“No, I mean Rumi he, he doesn't give up. No matter what. He’s the best and if I keep going one day I can say I did everything I could, just like him. He isn't number one yet but he never gives up. I want to be that determined and strong.” Hawks picked at his food. Usually the raw meat and peppers make his mouth water in hunger. The plate is a rare indulgence; he doesn't let himself indulge in it often.

“I just don’t see it, but if you do then that's all that matters.” She reached over and gripped his gloved hand.

“Are you going to be okay Hawks?”

“I think eventually I will be but right now I'm just, I’m doing my best to bury myself in work.” 

Hawks lets Rumi carry the conversation for the rest of lunch.

Weeks pass and sooner than he had thought Hawks finds himself preparing to make his big public debut. Touya is probably somewhere out there watching.

“We want to clip your talons, they’re just too dangerous looking, if your gloves come off they could sink your popularity ratings. We don't want you scaring any-”

“I don't think-, okay. If you think it will help me climb the ranks.” Hawks pulls off his gloves. The hero commision has always insisted they be part of his hero costume, to hide his tiny talon like nails. He had suspected that something like this might eventually come up, had even planned out what to say. Counter arguments and everything. It just seems pointless to argue it now, if the commision wanted to take his talons in case his gloves came off or whatever excuse they wanted to feed him they could. The issue doesn't seem as big now as it had before. Maybe it was the loss of Touya and all that had happened or maybe it had never been a big deal.

“It won't hurt a bit,-” The poor commision appointed handler paused in the middle of his argument, obviously having expected some resistance. 

Hawks smiles at him. Big and bright like he’s been taught to give the press. It does hurt and Hawks wasn’t even surprised.

“Anything I have to give, anything I do,I do for the chance to be a Hero.” It's worth a little pain in order to climb a little higher he reasons. The talons are just the start, soon Hawks finds the hero commision suggesting things left and right to “help him”. How to dress outside of work, what to say, how to get rid of his accent.

Hawks is still so tired even after the Hero commision starts focusing more on his appearance rather than performance. They may have moved on but he still pushes himself to train every day. He takes to drinking so much coffee the office workers joke about it stunting his growth. Rumi jokes about it being easier to just do cocaine instead and he laughs it off. He’s still so tired. His secretary makes a joke about getting him an IV for his coffee. 

He still misses Touya but Touya didn't want to get to know him, what did he do wrong? What could he have changed? He’s starting to think he will always miss Touya, that there isn’t another omega for him. He marks down His baby’s birthday and takes the day off when it arrives. Allows himself one day where he spends the it hidden under his comforter with a strong bottle of alcohol. Maybe it's a couple of bottles. He’s nothing like his parents and is going to be a hero through sheer determination and training,just like Enji todoroki, right after he’s done moping over an omega and what could have been. He only allows himself that one day, He’s not his parents drowning their issues in liquor. The morning after what would have been their birthday he heads back into work with a pounding headache and a plastered on practiced smile. What would Touya think of that kind of behavior? He hates that he even asks himself that. Touya left him just like everyone else does, he doesn't get to judge him.

He’s going to become the best damn hero he can be. So he can’t slow down now, not for anything. He’s got a job to do.

@ruelukas22

[alpha-centari27]

“Robotnik Hates Christmas”

Title: “Robotnik Hates Christmas“  -- I know not very creative, but I can change it later.  The important part is just to write.

Characters: Stone & Robotnik and some other filler characters.

Warnings: Mentions of self-harm behaviors and mental breakdowns so be advised.

Plot Summary:  It’s almost Christmas and Robotnik’s work has come to a grinding halt because of the miserable and detestable holiday.  Stone learns more about Robotnik’s past and Robotnik as a person.  Hopefully, they can both survive the holiday.

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It was a chilly and overcast day at the research facility and military base Agent Stone called home for the time being--or at least that is what his phone said a few minutes ago.  He wouldn’t know what the atmosphere outside looked like being cooped up in the air hanger like structure that housed Robotnik’s mobile lab, prototypes and other assorted works in progress, spare parts, tools and testing equipment.

Agent Stone mentally went through his to do list.  He had already stocked up on food for Robotnik’s fridge, freezer and pantry.  He would need to consider making a grocery run to pick up some fresh produce in the near future, but otherwise they were in good shape.  The drones were fully charged and had earlier been inspected for any wear and tear that required maintenance and repair.  The mobile lab itself was in tip top condition.  Tool boxes and spare parts bins had been inventoried and he had already given his list to the Dr. for his approval and given permission to make the necessary orders.  Everything seemed to be running smoothly.  The trash, recycle and hazardous materials bins had been emptied.  After disposing of the waste and recycle there was cleaning and tidying up to do, which was also complete.

“Huh...“  Agent Stone hummed to himself as he patrolled the aisles and open spaces for anything out of place, anything he might have missed that required a little tender loving care.

“I think I really have done everything that I can do for the time being.  Better check in with Robotnik to see if he needs anything.“  He whispered, setting his course for the mobile lab where he was sure he would find the man at his work station.

Agent Stone climbed the stairs of the mobile lab, being careful to tread lightly on the steps.  Stone couldn’t help but smile seeing Robotnik at his computer, flicking and thumbing through the visual displays.  It still amazed him that he got to be a part of this.  It was like he was the sorcerer’s apprentice--watching the raw act of creation from nothing but an abstract, intangible thought that was turned into an idea, translated into a testable hypothesis or experiment and then given physical form.

“Good afternoon Dr.“  Stone announced as he made his approach.  Lazily Robotnik paused and turned over his wrist.

“So, it is afternoon already.“  Robotnik said with an edge to his voice.  Stone guessed that the Dr. was not in the mood for chit chat and instead focused his eyes on what Robotnik was reading.  It seemed like the Dr. was refreshing his pages and menus just waiting for something to happen or a new message to pop into his inbox.  Sure enough, Robotnik refreshed one of the pages again and a new unread message appeared.  Robotnik opened it immediately.  Stone could make out Robotnik’s expression reflected off the screen, he was not pleased at all.

“I hate Christmas!  I hate the whole holiday season!“  The Dr. decried.  “Why?”  From what Stone could make out the message was an automatic reply message stating they were out of town for the holiday and would return a week after the New Year’s.  He knew all too well Robotnik could be moody, but did this really warrant such a dramatic reaction?

“Christmas isn’t so bad Dr. the lights and presents and food.  It’s a chance to take a break from work to be with family.“  Stone immediately regretted saying that.  This was the worse possible thing he could have said.

“Not so bad...  Agent Stone.”  Robotnik said rising to his feet in a way that was slow and menacing.  “I cannot progress my work because everyone is on vacation and unavailable!  Don’t even get me started on the forced sentimentality of being nice to the people you can’t stand all year.  Santa isn’t real and the story of Jesus is an exaggeration at best.  Good will to all men for this holiday season, but every other time of the year--who cares?”  Robotnik said flippantly, baring his teeth.  “The expectation of always being happy, happy, happy, happy, happy, happy, happy--joy, joy, joy, joy.”  The Dr. said clapping and speaking in a parody of an upbeat cartoon character.  “It all makes me sick.“  Stone just stood as stiff as a board and took it.  He should have known better.

“Is there anything I can do for you Robotnik?”  He asked trying to steer the conversation in a more constructive direction.  “By my assessment everything is in good repair, we have adequate supplies of spare parts and what we are running low on has been put on order.“

“No.”  Robotnik said while shaking his head.  “If everything has been tended to and cleaned up then, no.“  Robotnik faced his screen again and shut it down.  For a while he just stood in place without saying a word.  “Why don’t you take some time off Stone?“

“Time off?“  Stone repeated.  He never expected to hear those words pass through Robotnik’s tight lips.  This coming from the man who was the definition of a workaholic. 

“I insist you take some time off.  If I have nothing to do than you have even less to do.“  Stone was lost for words and didn’t know what to say.  He wouldn’t mind having a break for a few days, but he wasn’t sure if that would be allowed.

“I think I need to check with my contacts first.“  Robotnik frowned, but said nothing at first.

“Of course.“  He muttered.

Stone excused himself to step outside and find a place to make a phone call out of earshot of Robotnik or anyone else who could over hear.

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A segway was useful for getting from one end of the base to the other, but it still took a while. It took a ridiculous amount of time to find a private spot for a phone call, but there was little sense in whining now that he found what he was looking for.  He had seen it numerous times by now, but never ventured outside the base to look at it more closely.

Not far from the installation there was an old phone booth.  The phone had been removed, but for some reason the glass and metal case remained standing.  Maybe it was left in tact for this exact purpose.

Agent Stone thumbed through his list of important contacts and stopped on Lance Bringum.  He tapped the name and gave a second tap for the call icon before raising the cell phone to his ear.  Hopefully, his contact had not skipped town for the holidays too.

“Hello?“  A voice answered on the first ring.

“Ugh, hi.  Mr. Bringum, it’s agent Stone calling.“  A deep sigh was Mr. Bringum’s immediate reply to Stone’s greeting.

“What can I help you with today Mr. Stone?“

“The reason I am calling is to find out if I can get some time off--that’s all.”  He said with a shrug, not that Bringum could see that he was shrugging nonchalantly.  “Christmas is almost right around the corner and it seems as though Robotnik’s work has ground to a halt.  He even suggested that I take some time away from him.“  There was a prolonged pause that dragged on for more than a minute.  Stone began to wonder if maybe he hung up or they got disconnected.  “Sir, are you still there?“

“Agent Stone, the answer is no!  As I have said before this is a 24/7 assignment and your assignment is Robotnik.  We considered you for this post in part because you have said you have no close family to visit around the holidays.  If he has no work for you to assist him with than kick your feet up, read a magazine, watch some TV, while still keeping an eye on him and tending to his needs as he sees fit.  The only way you are cashing out your PTO is if you quit.  At this point I am amazed you have stuck this out for so long.  Are you sure you don’t want to quit right now?“

“I am not quitting Sir.“  Stone answered firmly and politely.

“Good, good because I wouldn’t let you quit your assignment at this time of the year anyway.  You would have to wait till the beginning of January at the earliest.“

“Why is that Sir?“  Stone asked out of curiosity.

“I have said too much...  But maybe you should know so you can be prepared.  You have never been around Robotnik at this time of the year.”  Now Stone was even more curious.  What did Mr. Bringum know that he did not?  He had been told repeatedly not to ask questions to leave well enough alone and not to trouble Robotnik’s mind with personal questions.  This was also a lesson he had quickly learned the hard way early on when he first started working alongside Robotnik.  Stone steadied himself before speaking again.

“Prepared for what Mr. Bringum?“  Silence, then a deep sigh.

“You didn’t hear this from me, understand?”

“Yes, I understand.” 

“This is just what I have heard.  I cannot verify this for myself because it’s--“

“Classified.“  Stone said finished the sentence for him.

“Right.  A number of years ago Robotnik had some sort of breakdown around Christmas.  He locked himself inside some sort of solitary confinement cell or high security storage area.  It’s believed that he did this intentionally and there was no foul play involved.  Why he would do this to himself is beyond me.”  Stones eyes widened in shock and he had to brace himself to maintain his balance.  “Anyway...”  Mr. Bringhum drawled.  “When they found him he was almost dead.  He was unconscious, badly dehydrated and malnourished, some bottles of liquor were found close to him.  He had probably been in there for at least two days before he was found.  From what I heard he made a quick enough recovery physically...  Mentally, I suspect he always has and always will have a few loose screws.  I think they tried to evaluate him psychologically, but he refused to cooperate.  You know what they say about leading a horse to water.“  Stone nodded.  His mind was racing.  This changed everything, this one sliver of information into Robotnik’s past was re-writing everything he thought he knew about him, which admittedly was not much.   

“You’re not pulling my leg are you?”

“No, Agent Stone--I’m not.  But like I said I cannot view the files myself.  Something happened and it was serious enough to make us re-think how we handle him.“  Stone paused again.  He didn’t like the phrase ‘handle him’ as if Robotnik was some kind of animal snatched from the wild and coerced and conditioned to perform.  Stone always wanted to know more about the Dr. and now was his chance to get some answers.  May as well make the most of it and push for as much as Bringum is willing to share.

“Ok, so he refused a psych evaluation.  What happened next?“

“Well, despite his insubordination--it’s not like we could let someone with his talents and expertise slip through our fingers.  If he wouldn’t submit to a psych evaluation and a treatment plan then we had to think of something else that would at least be tolerable for him.“

“Wait, this is why the Dr. has an assistant assigned to him isn’t it?“

“You’re right on the money Stone.  They made some adjustment to his workload, made it more manageable for him, or so I heard.  Although he was never evaluated by a psychologist after that incident they suggested that he might benefit from having an assistant.  Someone to talk to, someone to help him relax and curb any self-destructive tendencies just by having another person constantly around him.”

“It sounds like what you are describing is a friend.”  

“I suppose in a way, yes.  At first we gave him a small group of assistants to help him out.  Turns out that didn’t work.  I think it’s just too challenging for him to handle a small group of people.  All he needs is one person he can trust and rely on to be a buffer between him and everyone else.  That and he found it a source of amusement to pit the assistants against each other.“  A smile came to Stone’s face.  He would need to keep this in mind when he was on missions with the Dr. and they were assigned a team of government agents to make the job easier and more efficient.  Though from what he could remember the Dr. seemed content to let Stone boss them around.  His smile faded when he returned to what Bringum had confided in him.

“Hmmmm....  What do you propose I do with Robotnik?“

“Huh...find a way to keep his mind occupied that doesn’t lead to trouble.  I wish I could tell ya something more than that.  You should get back to your post and I should shut up now.  Good day and good luck Stone.“

“Thank you, Mr. Bringum.  I won’t let you down.“  Stone heard the sound of a click.  The call was over and he had so many unanswered questions.

The government wrote his paycheck, but Robotnik was the boss calling the shots and telling him what to do.  If he made a suggestion would Robotnik actually listen to him?

“Well, I guess there is only one way to find out.“

Stone hopped on his segway and passed through the entry gate after showing his government ID and hauled ass back to the hanger where he assumed Robotnik would be.

Stone wondered and worried if Robotnik asking him to take time off was intended to be a diversion or distraction for the Dr. to do something stupid.

He parked and dismounted the segway outside the mobile laboratory.  Tracing his earlier steps up the stairs.  The Dr. was no where in sight.

Stone was stricken with a sense of panic.  Where could he be?  Standing in the middle of the lab, Stone’s phone began to vibrate.  Robotnik was calling him.

“Hello.“  Stone said, trying to sound natural.

“Where the hell have you been?  I got tired of waiting so I tossed together some lunch.“

“Oh...  Sorry, about that.“

“Did you go all the way to the moon to make your call?“

“No.  Ugh, where are you right now?  I’m by the mobile lab.”

“My personal quarters.“

“Ok, that’s not too far.  Just give me a few minutes.  Oh, and one more thing.  I’m staying with you whether you have work or not.  I’m not going on vacation.“  Stone ended the call and put his phone away.

The Dr. had what amounted to his own house on the premises that was in close proximity to the hanger.  “I wonder what he made for lunch.“

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Author notes:

Yay, it’s done for now!

I want to continue this, but I am not entirely sure how.  I got some ideas, but I need to think about how this fanfic is going to progress and how it’s going to end.  If I know how this ends then I can work my way backwards to build up to the ending I have outlined.

If this does get a few more chapters I probably will change up the POV and have some stuff from Robonik’s POV.

I don’t imagine this turning into sexy times or Stone trying to be anything more than a friend and someone Robotnik can confide in.

This happens before the events of the movie.

[yesloverboy]

Never Let You Go (mgk! Tommy Lee x Reader)

Requested: Anon

“I have 2 requests but they are completely up to your interpretation anyways, so for one like tommy taking care of his drunk girlfriend or friend or whatever you want and then another request would be tommy (lol love my tommy) where like the reader and tommy are friends and they’re at a bar and readers ex is there and shit goes down. Hopefully those make sense, do what you want!”

Note: Listen, I know it’s been a hot minute but my love for Tommy and Crüe will never die so thanks for being patient! Love y’all bunches and I will be posting about my updated writing schedule shortly. 

word count: 2,712

[Warnings: blood, violence, cheating, toxic relationships, swearing, and alcohol mention.]

permanent tags: @colsonbakersnoseringmain, @lululovesgwtw, @kingbouji3

mötley tags: @lauravic 

tommy tags: @chlobo6

 After your breakup, you were almost certain that not even all the alcohol in the world could drown your problems. Heartache left an unfillable void in your chest that wanted to suck every last bit of your happiness deep down inside, never to be seen again. Luckily, your best friend, Tommy, was determined to spend the entire weekend proving you wrong. According to Tommy, alcohol can drown any problem if you’re with the right people– and he just so happens to be your favorite person in the entire world.

 If someone were to ask you weeks– maybe even days –ago, you would’ve claimed that your boyfriend Kyle, of three and a half years, held the position of favorite in your heart. That is, until you found him grunting and thrusting into a woman that most definitely wasn’t you. Hell, she wasn’t even a woman you knew. As it turned out, your beloved boyfriend had been fucking other women on and off since they day you’d met.

 Teary-eyed and utterly brokenhearted, you went to the only person you knew who could hold you together at a time like this– Tommy. In his usual fashion, Tommy had greeted your desperate raps on his door with a goofy grin and open arms. However, once his blue eyes met your red-rimmed ones, his chipper mood quickly dissolved into concern.

 “Hey button, what’s the matter?” Tommy asked, using his long arms to envelop you in a tight bear hug. Button had been his nickname for you ever since grade school. Tommy had always been bad with names, and the rainbow buttons of your first-day-of-school overalls sealed your place in Tommy’s memory from that day forward.

 You had prepared what you were going to tell Tommy on the cab ride over but, the moment he uttered your nickname, everything fell to pieces. Big, fat tears welled up in your eyes, dripping onto Tommy’s shirt like heavy rain. To your relief, he didn’t press any more questions your way. Instead, he shushed you softly and tucked you through the doorway with a protective arm.

 It wasn’t long before Tommy had you curled on the couch, wrapped tightly in a quilted blanket with your head resting comfortably in his lap. He gave you time to cry out the rest of your frustration as he ran his long fingers through the snags in your hair. Tommy didn’t say much, even if seeing you in crisis mode devastated him to the core. You were always the strong one of the two of you, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to keep it together while you crumbled at his feet.

 After a while, your sobs eventually devolved into pitiful sniffles, allowing you to catch your breath enough to finally speak. When you finally mustered up the courage to tell Tommy what your boyfriend– well, ex-boyfriend – had done to you, his blood began to boil incessantly beneath his skin. Tommy wanted Kyle dead. Hell, deader than dead. If you hadn’t just been sobbing in his arms for the past hour, he’d already be on the phone with Nikki to plot your ex’s demise.

 Tommy physically couldn’t comprehend how a slimeball like Kyle could possibly have it in him to cheat on a girl like you for so long. You were patient, kind, and positively beautiful in Tommy’s eyes. For most people, a guy like Tommy is a lot to handle, but you never asked him to shrink himself in the presence of other people. You loved Tommy’s ‘too-much-ness’, as you affectionately called it, and wanted nothing more than to bottle it up and save some for the rainy days. Unfortunately, this day had been the rainiest of them all.

 Although he would never admit it, you were Tommy’s dream girl, and he would do whatever it took to make you feel like your old self again. Even if it were only for a few, fleeting moments in between bloodshot eyes and broken cries.

...

 It’s that same desire to make you happy that has Tommy dragging you to some sleazy new wave club halfway across town. You and Tommy are renowned metalheads in the L.A. music scene, but you can’t deny the way that the heavy synth and pounding bass lifts your spirits from the inside. As much as you despise its trendy nature, the appeal of cheap pop music isn’t entirely lost on you, and going to the last place anyone would expect to see you is exactly what you need right now.

 The club is packed full of patrons, each demonstrating new and interesting ways to incorporate nylon and neoprene into their glowing ensembles. You and Tommy undoubtedly stick out like sore thumbs, but you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face as he takes your hands and swings you across the dancefloor. You Spin Me Round blares through the sound system, causing the light-up floor to vibrate obnoxiously beneath your feet.

 Tommy picks you up and begins spinning you around in his arms at a dizzying pace, causing you to erupt into a fit of cringes and laughter. The two of you haven’t even made it to the bar yet and you’re already giggling and shoving each other like a pair of carefree idiots. Tommy’s childlike sense of fun and comforting grasp bandaids the gaping hole in your chest for a moment, but the fear of your all-encompassing sadness leaking out again makes you shiver beneath the strobing lights.

 As if he can read your mind, Tommy’s roughhousing ceases so he can stop and look at you. His dark blue eyes scan yours for any sign of an imminent breakdown on the horizon, but you quickly plaster on a brave face. You have no reason to hide the wave of sadness passing through you, but figure there’s no time like the present to practice looking fine in front of those you love.

 Before Tommy can ask if you’re okay, you bounce on your tiptoes and grasp at his shoulder for leverage. “I’m going to get us some drinks, okay?” you project your weak voice into Tommy’s ear, practically yelling over the pulsating music.

 Tommy seems to get the idea and offers you a weak smile as you turn towards the bar. Stay here, you mouth and Tommy shoots a reassuring thumbs up in your direction. With a shaky breath, you maneuver your way through the energetic crowd, doing your best to scout out the farthest available bartender. Initially, the crowd and the noise did a great job of clouding your memory, but now you needed a little extra help from some good, old fashioned hard liquor.

 You belly up to the bar, relieved that the music is just quiet enough in this corner of the club that you don’t have to strain your voice as much. Giving the bartender your best fake smile, you order yourself a double vodka soda and a Jack and Coke for Tommy. It feels like it’s going to be a long night, and you could use all the help you can get to even dream of keeping up with Tommy’s excessive drinking.

 Just as you’re about to grab the glasses and search for your lanky companion, you sense an all too familiar presence at your side.

“Y/N? Baby, is that you?”

 You suck in a breath, the sickly sweet tone of Kyle’s voice driving an icy stake into your palpitating heart. No, no, no, no, you flounder, this can’t be happening. You turn around, mouth running dry as soon as your eyes meet the confident gaze of your ex-lover. It was a look you had seen a hundred times before, and yet the familiarity of it all is exactly what’s bringing you to your knees.

 Kyle takes a step forward and you immediately find yourself taking an instinctive step back, the base of your spin quickly bumping harshly into the bar’s edge. Kyle rests a casual hand on the bar next to your hip, not exactly pinning you to the spot, but making it more than apparent that he doesn’t want you to leave just yet.

 “Thought that was you, sweetheart, I’d recognize that tight ass anywhere,” Kyle purs, looking down on you with a predatory gleam in his eyes, “Miss me yet?”

 The ice in yours and Tommy’s drinks rattles in its glasses, giving away the tremor in your nervous hands. You want to yell, scream, cry– anything, but you find yourself frozen to the spot. The memory of Kyle on top of that mystery woman in your shared bed replays in your head like a threat, reminding you that he never really loved you at all. Feeling small and pathetic in front of the man that abused your trust for so long, you silently pray that the floor might swallow you up.

 You grit your teeth as hot tears blur your vision, but do not speak. A sob starts to build in your throat and, before you’re able to release it, a flash of movement catches your eye. Looking past Kyle, you’re relieved to find Tommy storming over to the scene with bared teeth and clenched fists.

 “Hey asshole!” Tommy growls, jerking Kyle’s shoulder back in an effort to yank him away from your trembling form. The look of overwhelming fear and anxiety in your eyes fans the fire in Tommy’s chest, and it takes all of his strength not to drag your ex to the floor right then and there. In all your years of knowing Tommy, you never imagined he could ever look this furious and you find yourself getting scared.

 You aren’t scared of Tommy, no, you could never be– you were scared for Kyle.  

 Kyle just laughs and brushes at his lapels for show, raising his hands in mock surrender, “Easy there, man. I was just about to ask my girl if she wanted a ride home, is all. Isn’t that right, hon?”

 The cockiness in Kyle’s voice turns your stomach as he looks back at you expectantly, silently willing you to comply. Your eyes dart between him and Tommy, and you can already picture how the next couple of minutes are going to unfold.

 Tommy steps directly into your ex’s personal space, the visible height difference making Kyle shift his jaw nervously. To anyone passing by, Kyle probably appeared to be in total control, but you knew him well enough to recognize the look on his face. He’s in deep shit, and he knows it.

 “Funny you call her that, Kyle,” Tommy spits, his voice dripping with venom as he presses an accusatory finger into Kyle’s chest. “Make no mistake, I heard you had a girl– actually, a long list of girls. But Y/N? Yeah, she ain’t one of them. Never was.”

 Kyle laughs nervously, puffing out his chest in a weak attempt to seem taller. “Is that right? Then what is she, then? Your girl?”

 “And what if she is? What the fuck are you going to do about it?”

 Tommy’s face is only a few inches away from Kyle’s, the tension in the air so palpable that even the bartender across the way seems to be frozen it. The bass from the dancefloor thumps ominously in the distance, its hollow thud matching the heaviness of your heartbeat.

 To your surprise, Kyle is the first to relent. Casting you a bitter glance, he shoves Tommy’s chest away from his and begins backing slowing out of the room. His eyes never leave Tommy’s, watching him with the same caution as a zookeeper getting ready to feed a hungry lion. You breathe a sigh of relief, but it comes far too soon.

 “Fine, have her,” Kyle hisses, “she’s a lousy lay, anyways.”

 The moment the insult left your ex’s lips, his fate was sealed. Tommy’s restraint melts away as he lunges forward, his fist swiftly connecting against Kyle’s nose with a sickening crack. Blood spurts out from Kyle’s face and onto the glowing floor like a broken spigot, instantly causing your stomach to flip queasily. Even in the low lighting you can see splotches of ruby red seeping into the fabric of his stark white shirt.  

 Kyle stumbles backward, falling disoriented to the floor. He cries out in agony but Tommy continues to stalk forward, relentlessly hunting him into a corner like some kind of feral animal. You know it can only get uglier from here and, as much as you’ve enjoyed seeing Kyle eat his words, you really don’t want to add bailing Tommy out of jail to your to-do list.

 Before Tommy can cock back his fist for another hit, you catch his arm. The glasses you were previously grasping in your hands clatter noisily to the floor, the watered down alcohol and soda pooling lazily at your feet.

 “Tommy, that’s enough,” you warn, but the words are cushioned by tenderness you feel for him. All ever Tommy wanted to do was shelter you from all the bad things in the world, and you’d be lying if you couldn’t admit that he did it well.

 With an angry sigh, Tommy begrudgingly allows you to pull him to your side. Snaking his arm protectively around your shoulders, he frowns slightly as you shiver beneath his touch. It pains him to see you this way, shaking with anxiousness in the presence of a man you used to give all your love to– a love that he didn’t even deserve. Without thinking Tommy presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, the touch so faint you almost miss it.

 “I’ve got you, button,” Tommy whispers, his voice barely audible over the music. Your heart somersaults in your chest as you gaze up at Tommy, your watery eyes connecting with his soft blues. Even panting and red-faced from his encounter with your ex, he still has the same happy face that drew you to him all those years ago.

 Without a second thought, you lace your fingers with Tommy’s, holding his arm in place as it rests on your frame. “Let’s go home,” you sniffle, nuzzling his bruised knuckles with the side of your tear-stained cheek.

 You lead Tommy out of the club, leaving Kyle moaning pathetically in a pool of his own blood. Not even a bartender or a bouncer cared to bat an eye at his pitiful display, and you can’t help but wonder if he would look the same after suffering a broken nose. Kyle may have left a permanent stain on your heart, but Tommy made sure he wouldn’t be able to so much as look in the mirror without remembering what he had done to you.

 The summer air is balmy outside the club as you and Tommy await the next available cab. You stand in comfortable silence, your form still pressed firmly against his side as he puffs on a cigarette absentmindedly. Tommy’s free hand curls around the ends of your hair, the small, intimate gesture causing you to blush.

 “So,” you say finally, breaking the silence, “your girl, huh?”

 Tommy’s eyes widen, his blue irises swimming in orbs of white. “Oh, uh, that? That was nothing– just, uh, don’t worry about it–” he stammers, his face flushing pink with embarrassment.

 With a grin, you rise to your tiptoes and place a gentle kiss on Tommy’s cheek, stunning him into silence. “Someday,” you whisper, “Maybe not today, but someday soon.”

 Your words tumble through the night air like a promise, intertwining with Tommy’s ever visible heartstrings and grasping tightly. Tommy always fell for girls hard and fast, but with you it was different. His love for you only grew with each passing moment, embedding itself in every look and every action until it all culminated into a single punch. You were what he had always been looking for, and he was exactly what you had been missing all along.

 Tommy holds you tight for the rest of the evening, playing with your fingers on the cab ride home to eventually tangling his legs with yours as the two of you collapse in a heap on his couch. No matter what happens, no matter how long it takes– Tommy would be yours forever, and forever isn’t nearly long enough.

Masterlist

[unlucky-watcher]

 “Oh, princess there’s nothing to worry about. I’ll make sure the initiation isn’t too hard on you. Something as pretty as you shouldn’t be hurt.”

  “I’m not a doll! What’s next frilly skirts and panties?”

  “Oh, now you’re just giving me ideas.”

Steve wanted nothing more than to be in a fraternity, after all his father was in one, and his grandfather was in one. It was almost a tradition he had to uphold as a male member of the Harrington family.  

Except fraternities have changed a lot since his father's time. It was less formal and more.... harsh. Drinking, fucking, partying and not even mentioning the hazing that happens just to get IN the frat. 

 But as his father drove him to the campus, he words were "Steven, the only way you'll survive college is to get into a fraternity. Now I don't know any of these places, after all I went to a much more formal college then you did, but the rules apply everywhere." 

 So Steve was left with really no choice. He managed into the only place that would accept a twenty year old first year student, thanks nervous breakdown for preventing him to attend school for two years. 

Their name was Delta Theta, also known as the Down To Fuck frat. 

 Steve was hoping to steer clear of most of the rampant fucking, if he was honest with himself, he never quite got over Nancy and he could still go a few more years before the sexual frustration took over. It also didn’t help that his gaze had been wandering across the guys in his classes.

In the lead up to the start of the initiation He spent all that time preparing for it, not hyping himself up too much, to remain cool, calm and do whatever needed to be done. He wasn’t Steve the former king, the guy who had a fall from grace and a nervous breakdown. He was better now, those old titles from high school didn’t mean anything.

It wasn’t like anyone he knew was going to be there.

The day finally came and with his head held high he walked into the large doors of the house the first day with the rest of the so-called 'newbies'. But was quickly stopped in his tracks as he saw one Billy Hargrove standing there in a cut off muscle take, tight jeans and holding a very large bottle of liquor.

When their gazes met, Billy lips curled into a wicked smirk.

  “Oh hello, King Steve. How does it feel to not have the crown anymore?” After all Billy was now the head of Theta Delta.

[drinkinginformation2018]

Tasting Room By Lot18 Reviews

Lot 18 Tasting Room bad wine.

It has always been my notion that an enterprise whose dreams are to satisfy their client’s needs, to serve their patron’s social interests, and to function their enterprise in an honest, moral, and open manner was sure to be greater a success than the ones which do no longer.

Indeed, there are many studies, now not to say real-global examples of this being the case.In the instant case, we have a business, which does no longer aspire to these desires.

In reality, every conversation to us coming from Lot18/Tasting Room thus far genuinely shows that their enterprise version is wholly committed to garnering the maximum profits feasible, with none regard to customer needs, pursuits, and without a lot notion given to moral issues, openness or honesty.

First, let me begin via declaring factually that I have made several attempts, with the aid of various way, to cancel my Tasting Room Wine Club Reviews. That this has been admitted to using the agency should be evidence enough that something of their enterprise operation is amiss. However, that isn't all that is wrong.

The very day I acquired the notice through electronic mail from Lot18 indicating that my ‘cargo changed into prepared’ become the very same day I sent another electronic mail soliciting for cancellation of my club. I had previously despatched an electronic mail request, as recounted by their workforce: (email photograph connected)

Tasting Room by Lot18 Wine club reviews

With all the wine clubs obtainable it could be hard to come to a decision. Happily, Wine Turtle is right here that will help you wade through the many options and find the membership it's first-rate for you.

What each club has it is selling points, and those things that detract from it, however, as with most things, human beings can also disagree on which might be the attractive and unattractive capabilities of a club.

We're going via the large golf equipment and giving you an in-depth appearance so you can locate the quality membership for you whether you are ordering for yourself or as a present.

Tasting Room with the aid of Lot18 is a wine membership this is pretty tons unbeatable irrespective of what you are searching out in the association - from the start of the experience thru the deliveries.

The club starts by using sending the member a small box with six mini bottles of wine. The wines on this first shipment cowl a broad spectrum of patterns, mouth feels aromas and flavors.

Individuals flavor alongside an online video, following easy instructions. Contributors click their alternatives, and a profile of their possibilities is built and used to devise their shipments each month.

About Tasting Room by way of Lot 18 reviews

Tasting Room by way of Lot18 makes a specialty of excessive first-rate wine that contributors will like primarily based on their tasting profile. Four instances a year they receive twelve individual bottles decided on for the member.

The wines are excessively high, possibly well worth more than the in step with bottle breakdown. They recognize wine and palettes and also offer a few terrific education.

Tasting Room with the aid of Lot 18 – Wine Subscription reviews

A few days in the past I posted about how the Tasting Room by Lot 18 extended the states that they deliver to for their wine subscriptions. I used to be SO enthusiastic about their growth because Pennsylvania turned into on the list! I suppose I signed up for this subscription inside minutes of announcing the brand new nation listing!

A bit history on how the Tasting Room works:

You sign up and get a Tasting box (what I’m reviewing). It fees $nine.95 with free shipping.

You acquire six mini wine bottles to taste and supply feedback on. (FYI this box ships u.s.a.and you should sign for it).

You rate the wines on their web page, and that they customize wine choices for you.

In a few weeks, they deliver you a case of 12 wines (6 distinctive forms of 2 bottles every) based on your wine profile. This primary case is $84.99 with free shipping – $7.08 a bottle. (This pricing is a 50% off bargain from the same old rate).

In three months your subsequent case ships at the same old charge of $149.99 plus $19.ninety-nine transport. ($14.16 a bottle).

you may usually cancel every time – just electronic mail or name.

First-class Wine membership transport carrier: Tasting Room with the aid of Lot18

Melissa Kay

In vino veritas – Latin, for, “In wine, there is a reality." And the fact is instructed, whether or not we are eating a stinky bite of cheese, a piping-hot dish of spaghetti carbonara, or in maximum instances, anything's in the fridge, we need a respectable glass (or plastic cup) of wine to go along with it.

We're not wine snobs, but we want a decent lens to percentage with pals. Here's every other little bit of truth: it is first-class to examine at the least a bit of which wines pair high-quality with our favorite foods.

Would not it make you feel higher to have even just a little extra knowledge approximately wine? K, but wherein to begin? This is wherein Tasting Room comes in.

Too many journeys to the liquor save, and you will begin to seem a little Charlie Sheen-ish. It is why wine clubs or subscription offerings have emerged as any such fantastic alternative.

At the same time as there is a gaggle of options online, there may be no question as to that is my favorite. Enhance a glass to Tasting Room by using Lot18.

Based in 2013, Tasting Room stands out from the percent – first and main because it is not a “club" as all of the others are. Tasting Room is a customized service catered in your precise alternatives, and you honestly get to flavor wine that will help you decide which grape sorts, patterns, and areas you like.

No other online carrier lets you flavor first. At the same time as different clubs ship you the wines they suppose you may need, handiest Tasting Room is going the extra mile to study – and ship you – wines you will love. It's basically like Netflix for wine.

WSJ Wine club: offers two primary plans: their Discovery membership at $149.ninety nine for 12 wines, or their gold standard club at $239 for a case of tiny-production releases. There seems to be only one shipping alternative of 12 bottles introduced quarterly.