#in your inbox or on the dash so i just put it here

[moonchild-in-blue]

Okay guys. I know some of you do in fact go there so. Help a girl out 🥺

Who is König, like. What's his deal? The mask cloth thingy? Is he shy or smth 🥺 like Mimikyu? Or is it a "face severely scarred and disfigured from war and now I must conceal the horror" type of thing? Why is he built like a smart fridge?

I'm vaguely aware of CoD (played it like a million years ago with a friend), and I vaguely know about Soapy Boy and Ghost Normal Name. What I'm actually interested in is whoever the hell Beefcake Cutiepie König is.

Much appreciated~ xoxo 💋💋💋

[cosmicsnufkin]

.

[thetriumphantpanda]

two for the price of one | joel & tommy miller

Summary | Tommy has always been the loyal and doting boyfriend, the literal man of your dreams. Ready to take things to the next step, you soon find that Tommy is unable to have children. A family is all you've ever wanted, and neither of you are going to let this get in your way. Enter Joel, dark and mysterious and willing to do anything for his little brother, including fucking his girlfriend to get her pregnant. That's what brothers are for, right?

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader & Tommy Miller x F!Reader

Warnings | Like, I literally don't even know anymore. Tommy is a cuck in this one, Joel is a dirty talking menace. Pre/No Outbreak AU. Talk of infertility, mention of consuming alcohol, Breeding kink, girlfriend sharing, masterbation (M), oral (F receiving), unprotected PiV sex, creampie, plenty of dirty talk, praise kink.

Word Count | 4.2k

Authors Note | I just want to shoutout the anon who left this request in my inbox. It rotted my brain and now we're here. Special shoutout to the JFC - specifically @sinsofsummers for telling me I could do this and @dinsdjrn and @cavillscurls for their help with some of the dialogue here. This is just filth. Pure unadulterated filth. Enjoy.

That damn piece of paper was haunting you, even from its place deep in the drawer where Tommy had stuffed it when he’d opened it and showed you. Its words telling you what you’d both anticipated but had wanted to prove wrong. Tommy. Infertile. Dashing those hopes of your beautiful babies with thick curls and big, beautiful eyes. He’d taken it hard, like it was an abject failure of his own manhood – the one thing he should be able to do beyond anything else, give you the child you so desperately yearned for, he couldn’t. 

There was a week of tension, where you treaded on eggshells, trying not to bring it up, despite desperately wanting to discuss other options. Then came his acceptance of his emotions, late at night, curled up behind you in bed. It started with a light sniffle, then you could feel his tears drip onto the skin of your shoulders, then the whole-body sobs as he held you, told you he was sorry. You’d turned in his arms, wrapped your arms around his neck and held him, whispering softly that it was okay, that it didn’t matter, that you had options. You could still have a family, just perhaps not in the traditional sense. 

Then came the weeks of appointments. You’d met with an adoption agency first. They’d talked you through the application process, what they expected of you, talked about the type of family you want, but Tommy had been adamantly against it for your first child. He wanted something borne of your blood, of your flesh, even if it wasn’t his that joined it. 

Then there were the medical appointments talk of special drugs Tommy could take, or the possibility of IVF, even a sperm donor. It had started to look like these could be an option until the cost was placed in front of you. There was no way either of you could afford it, not even together, not even if you sold the house for something smaller. You’d reached the end of the line with no answers and the thought that you’d have to resign yourself to being childless. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad? You could take all the love you’d wrapped up for a baby and put it somewhere else. You could love your niece Sarah harder, give some of it to the children you worked with each day at the school – you didn’t need to be a mother to feel complete. The longer you sat with it though, the more you felt something missing. The end of the line was frustrating and lonely. That was, until Tommy came up with an alternative. 

It's late on a Thursday evening. You’ve just cleaned up from dinner and you’re lounging on the couch with Tommy’s arms wrapped around you, your head resting on one of his shoulders. 

“Can I ask you somethin’?” He muses above, settling his lips on the crown of your head. 

“Always.” You squeeze the hand you’re resting on his thigh. 

“What if we ask Joel?” 

“To fix the back steps?” You ask, referencing the rotting steps that had needed sorting since winter cleared, “Can’t you just do it yourself?” 

“No sugar,” He clears his throat, “Y’know what, forget I said anythin’.” 

“Tommy,” You grumble, pushing yourself off his shoulder, you rest an arm across the back of the couch where he’s sitting, “You can’t just say that and not elaborate.” 

He’s nervous. You can see the bouncing of his knee, something you’d clocked was a nervous habit on your first date. He’s also running a hand along the back of his neck, exactly what he always does when he’s got to say something difficult. You can also see the start of prickles of sweat on his brow. He’s not just nervous, he’s uncomfortable. You rest a hand on his shoulder, the way he’d taught you to do it when you’d first met, when he was still grappling with the anxiety and PTSD of being a veteran. 

“I’m worried I’m gonna scare you, sugar.” 

You run a hand through his thick head of curls, “Tommy, I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Promise to just hear me out before freaking out, okay?” 

You stick your pinky up, motioning for him to join his own with yours, “Pinky swear, Tommy Miller.” 

 “What if we ask Joel, you know….” He trails off, mouth opening and closing like a fish as he searches for the words he needs, “Fuck, I don’t even know how to say it.” 

“Just take a deep breath and say it all at once.” 

He takes a deep breath in like you instructed, blowing it out through his mouth, “What if we ask Joel to help with gettin’ you pregnant?” 

It takes a minute for what he’s said to properly sink it. Your first train of thought, stupidly, is that Joel is a carpenter, not a doctor, so there’s no possible way he’s qualified to help with this. Then it washes over you all at once. Heat prickling at your cheeks, breath hitching in your throat, you think you might be sick. 

“You want me to sleep with your brother?” You ask, tone coming out far more accusatory than intended, you soften your expression and squeeze his shoulder when you notice how hurt he looks. 

“Well, it certainly ain’t my first option, or the second and third for that matter,” He sighs, “Look, it was stupid, forget I asked.” 

He moves to get up from the couch, but you’re dragging him back down, fingers gripped around his wrist, “It’s not stupid Tommy, but you gotta help me understand how this is an option.” 

He’s looking at you now, big brown eyes with a hint of sadness staring into your own. He cups your cheek in one of his palms, “I know how bad you want this sugar, how much you want a family,” He leans in to press a chaste kiss to your lips, “And I’m sorry I can’t give that to you, sorry we can’t afford the fancy drugs that would make this easier,” He sighs deeply, “The only option we have is to do somethin’ like this, and if I’m gonna let another man touch you, I want it to be someone I trust, and he’s the only person I would ever trust with this,” He rubs a hand over his face, “Least I know it might have a chance of lookin’ somethin’ like me too, instead of goddamn Steven from Ohio or whoever they’d use.” 

You feel your gut twist when he speaks. This absolutely batshit crazy idea is actually coming from an incredible place of care. He knows you want a child; lord knows you were trying your hardest together to make it happen before that damn piece of paper had to go and ruin it all. 

“You wouldn’t find it weird, knowing I’d had sex with your brother?” 

“Well, it doesn’t mean anythin’, does it baby?” 

“No, I suppose it doesn’t,” You shrug, it was just a means to an end, “You think he’ll agree?” 

“I don’t know baby,” He answers honestly, wrapping you back into his arms, “I’ll take him out this weekend, ask him and see what he thinks.” 

There’s still something here that doesn’t sit right with you. Sure, it makes sense, and of all the people who you could choose for yourself you’d probably have settled on Joel too. Stoic and sensible Joel, brooding and grumpy Joel. He’d always been kind, had welcomed you into the family with open arms, praised you multiple times for finally keeping his brother on the straight and narrow. He was a good man, loved his little girl with all his heart, would never hurt a hair on your head, but you were still uncomfortable. 

“If he does agree,” You shift nervously on the couch, “I want you to be there.” 

“You don’t trust him?” 

“No, of course I trust him Tommy,” You sigh, “I’d just feel more comfortable if you were there.” 

“Anythin’ for you, sugar.” 

It’s early on Sunday morning when Tommy rolls into bed, 3am to be exact, smelling of whiskey to tell you he’s finally asked Joel to help you. He slinks onto bed and wraps his arms around your waist, kissing over your neck and down your shoulder to wake you. When you finally grumble and admit you’re very muchawake now, with his hand gripping your hip, he’s speaking in a hushed whisper. 

“He said yes.” 

“He take much convincing?” You ask, shuffling around in his arms so you’re facing him, his face gripped in your palms. 

“He was wary, thought I’d lost my mind for a good few minutes,” Tommy leans forward, pressing a kiss to your lips, “Told him it was my idea and you’d thought the same, but he came around, think he knows how much we both want this.” 

A part of you had thought he’d say no. That there was no way that stoic, sensible Joel would ever consider sleeping with his brother’s girlfriend in order to knock her up, but he’d proved himself a man of many surprises before. As Tommy presses kisses to your lips and settles you both to sleep, there’s the bubbling of nerves in your belly, of doubt. Are you really doing the right thing? Is this going to make the dynamic between the three of you awkward as hell? Sure, you’re all grown adults and this is just a means to an end, but there’s still the unknown of what comes after.  

Tommy goes out that morning and brings back a bag, filled with ovulation tests and, perhaps a little prematurely, pregnancy tests. You do one of the ovulation tests that morning and as expected, the screen shows a sad face, gratefully showing you that you still have time to prepare for what you’re going to do. Three days later when you do the test again, there’s a grinning happy face, almost taunting you that it’s time to face the music. You show the test to Tommy, who places a palm on the back of your head, bringing your forehead to his lips. He murmurs that he’ll tell Joel, and that’s how not even twenty-four hours later, it really is time to bite the bullet. 

It's late, Joel having insisted that he needed to make sure Sarah was settled and asleep before he came over. You’re sitting at the foot of the bed, legs dangling aimlessly whilst you wait. You really had no idea how this was going to play out, so you’d dressed yourself in a simple cotton nightdress, silk robe tied around your middle for extra coverage. There was an empty whiskey tumbler on the nightstand. You’d had three, maybe four? Enough to take the edge off, but not too much that you weren’t aware of what was happening. 

You hear the doorbell chime and then Tommy’s heavy footsteps downstairs as he opens the door. You can hear his voice and Joel’s mingling together, but you can’t decipher what either are saying. You probably don’t want too either. What could two brothers’ possibly have to say to each other when one is getting ready to sleep with the others girlfriend? You listen to them talk for a bit before you can hear two sets of feet ascending the stairs. You stand from the bed, wrapping your arms around yourself for another layer of comfort when there’s a knock at the door. 

“Come in!” You call, bouncing nervously from foot to foot. 

The door swings open and Joel is stood there, dressed in his usual attire, dark wash jeans and a black t-shirt, work boots obviously discarded downstairs, Tommy knew you hated people tracking dirt into the house. He takes a moment to take the sight of you in and you think you must look ridiculous, silk robe making way to bare legs – it had seemed like such a good idea at the time, he could just push the material up, do what he needed to do and be gone, but now you wonder if it looks like you’re trying to seduce him. 

“Hey sweetheart,” Joel’s voice is soft and when you look into his eyes, they are too, and it does put you at some ease, “C’mere.” He’s motioning for you to step closer, opening his arms so he can pull you into a hug. 

You’ve hugged Joel hundreds of times before this, in much the same way. One of his arms wrapped around your shoulders, the other squeezing into the middle of your back. It’s usually friendly, meaningless really, but when you take in the press of his broad frame, you can’t help but realise you’re going to know him far more intimately than you’d ever imagined by the end of the night. 

He releases you and you’re semi-aware that Tommy has slunk into the room behind his brother, he’s leaning against the wall as he watches Joel take hold of your hand, guiding you back to sit on the bed where you had been before. God, you think, he’s not wasting his time, he wants this to be over just as much as I do. You look up at his broad frame towering over you, if this was anyone else, you’d be intimidated, but he’s still got that soft look to his brown eyes. He shocks you next, cupping your jaw in his hand and running his calloused thumb over your bottom lip. 

He turns his head to Tommy, “You wanna tell me what she likes?” 

Oh. Oh. You’d expected something much more clinical than this. You’d never imagined he’d work to make sure you enjoyed it. You also turn your head in Tommy’s direction. He’s still leant against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other with his arms crossed. 

“She likes getting her pussy eaten, don’t you baby?” 

Joel is gently coaxing your face back to look at him, staring directly into your eyes, “That right, darlin’?” You look up at him as you nod, mouth open a little in shock, “Wanna make sure you enjoy this,” He’s saying, “Gonna take real good care of you.” 

Then, he’s dropping to his knees at the front of the bed, shifting so your legs are draped over his wide shoulders. Whilst Joel is focused on kissing trails from your knee, slowly up the expanse of your thigh, you look to Tommy, who has moved from the wall to sit in the small chair in the corner of the room that you would usually use to read in. He gives you a nod and a small smile, silently telling you to enjoy yourself. Your turn your attention back to Joel between your legs, who has slowly hitched up the cotton of your nightdress to pool at your hips, exposing your pussy to him. 

You can feel his hot breath skittering across your skin and there’s an anticipation building that you hadn’t expected. You’re moving your hips, almost subconsciously, to chase the relief you know his mouth was about to bring. Joel has his big palms on your hips then, holding you steady before he’s licking up the length of your pussy, tongue dipping ever so gently between your folds to find your clit. You let out a shaky breath that you hadn’t noticed you were even holding in, then Joel is moving again, tongue dipping into the entrance of your pussy, licking all the way up again before he’s laser focused on your clit. 

Your hands instinctively rake through his hair, gripping the strands between your fingers to keep him in place as he uses the tip of his tongue to run tight, wet circles to your bundle of nerves. You’re propping yourself up with a hand on the mattress behind you whilst the other keeps its place locking in Joel’s hair. Then, you’re actually grinding your pussy into his mouth, desperate for more but scared to ask for it. 

“It’s okay baby,” You hear Tommy speak from his place on the chair, “We want you to feel good, don’t be shy about askin’.” 

You look down between your thighs and see Joel looking up at you, mouth still latched to your aching pussy, “Joel,” You groan, “Fingers, please.” 

“So polite, darlin’.” He murmurs against your skin before he’s doing as you asked. 

He’s still showering your clit with attention, the sounds of his literal slurping doing nothing to stop the flush of arousal you’re feeling right now, as he pushes two of his thick fingers inside your slick cunt. You don’t know what you’d expected of Joel in this kind of scenario, perpetually single Joel, who never really seemed interested in anyone. You knew now, as he was curling those fingers inside of you, pressing into the spot that had you crying out and gripping his hair tighter than ever, that it wasn’t because of his abilities that he was single. 

“Fuck, holy shit Joel, I think….” 

“You gonna come for him baby?” You hear Tommy ask from the corner of the room. 

“I think…” You let out a sharp cry, “Don’t stop.” 

And he doesn’t. He keeps thrusting his fingers into your pussy, tongue still running those tight circles over your bud, but now he latches his lips around it and sucks, actually sucks at your clit. You’re lost. Your elbow buckles and you collapse on your back onto the bed, crying out a string of expletives as Joel works you through your high. Pleasure has burst across your skin, finding every single possible nerve ending and setting you on fire, your thighs are gripping his face as you ride out the last of the shuddering aftershocks on his fingers, pussy walls fluttering around them as you try and catch your breath. 

You can feel Joel recoiling from between your thighs. You can hear the sound of him undoing his belt and then it clattering to the floor. You use your weak arms to push yourself up the length of the bed, head settling in the pile of pillows at the top. You turn your face to Tommy and gasp, hunger igniting in your belly at what you see. Somewhere in the middle of Joel shattering your world between your thighs, Tommy has shucked his jeans and underwear down just enough to free his cock. He’s using his fist to work himself in slow strokes at the sight of you. 

You can feel Joel’s body clambering onto the mattress with you, settling between your thighs with his wide hips spreading your legs an obscene amount to accommodate him. He’s taking hold of your jaw in his hand, dragging your attention back to his face, “You’re fuckin’ me tonight pretty girl,” He growls, “Eyes on me.” 

It isn’t a torturous job by any means. Joel is weathered, his skin holding the early sign of wrinkles at his eyes, beard starting to grey, but you can’t deny that he’s handsome. Especially when he’s looking at you with eyes that are begging to devour you. He sits back on his knees, taking hold of the belt that is keeping your robe shut across your body to undo the loose knot you’d tied in it. He’s dragging you up by a wrist just far enough to shuck the material from your shoulders, laying you back down to play with the straps of your nightdress. 

“Can I undress you properly, darlin’?” He asks. 

You gulp. Finally noticing that he’s stripped to just his boxers, outline of his incredibly hard cock visible when you let your eyes drag down that far. 

“Go on baby,” Tommy encourages from across the room, “Let him see how beautiful you are.” 

Your eyes are back to holding court with Joel’s own and you nod. He’s pulling you up by the wrist again, sitting you up so he can drag that final bit of material off your body. You lie back down and watch as his eyes drag over every single inch of your skin. 

“Pretty as a fuckin’ picture.” 

He’s got those wide palms dragging down the curves of your sides, holding you in place to just watch you for a second before he’s hooking his thumbs into his underwear and dragging them down his thighs, freeing his cock. He’s fisting himself a few times before he hooks your knees over his arms and slides himself into your waiting cunt. 

It’s all you can do to let out a high-pitched moan at the intrusion, but fuck he feels good. You look up at his face, eyes closed and breathing deeply as he stills inside you once he’d buried in you to the hilt. 

“So fucking tight, darlin’,” He groans as he pulls himself almost all the way out before starting the long, torturous thrust back inside you, “So fuckin’ perfect, ain’t ya?” 

“Fuck Joel,” You throw your head back into the pillow, “Feel so good inside me.” 

He’s picking up the pace now, thrusting into you in earnest now. The angle he’s got you folded into means his cock in brushing that fucking spot inside you that is driving you crazy, raising goosebumps and setting you on fire, drawing high-pitched whines from your throat whenever he finds it. 

“Touch yourself baby,” You hear Tommy’s throaty request, you don’t dare look at him for fear of the sight of him finishing you off, “Joel’s gonna want you to come on his cock, so show him what a good girl you can be.” 

Joel is already circling your wrist with his hand, dragging your fingers to your pussy as he watches where his cock disappears inside you. Your own movements are sloppy but the slick that Joel’s mouth has dragged from you make the movement of circles on your own engorged and sensitive clit easy. It doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to hit you, clenching your pussy around Joel’s hard cock which hasn’t let up for a single second since he started pounding into you. 

“She’s so fuckin’ pretty, Tommy,” Joel’s voice is low and husky above you, almost desperately so, “So fuckin’ pretty when she comes like that.” 

“Don’t I know it, brother.” You hear his strangled reply. 

Joel is all of a sudden flipping you on the bed, your legs straddling his hips, palms planted on his chest to steady yourself. 

“Take what you want darlin’,” He’s groaning, “Ride my cock and knock yourself up.” 

You do just that, grinding your hips backwards and forwards on his cock with your fingers digging halfmoon shapes into the meat of his chest as you lean forward, bouncing on his cock in earnest. 

His palms are gripping the globes of your ass, knees coming up to rest on your bare skin as he starts fucking up into you, meeting your thrusts halfway. The sounds of your skin slapping together is obscene but oh so delicious. 

“You like when my brother fucks you like that?” Tommy’s deep voice draws your attention to him, he’s still got his cock in his hand but he’s thrusting up into it and you can tell just by the look on his face that he’s close. 

You look him dead in the eyes, breathy moan falling from your lips when you say, “I fucking love it, Tommy.” 

It all happens at once. Tommy is moaning and you can see him start to spill across his hand. Then Joel is gripping your hips, stilling your movements as you feel him start to come inside you, filling you up with his cum, your name falling from his mouth with a tangle of expletives built in for good measure. 

“Fuckin’ take it, pretty girl.” Joel is growling from beneath you, pushing his cock impossibly deep inside you like he’s begging your pussy to soak it all up, to get it to take. 

The room is silent save for the sounds of the three of you trying to catch your breath. You collapse, somewhat unceremoniously off Joel’s body and onto the mattress, placing an arm over your eyes to try and calm yourself down. Why the fuck was that so hot? Is all you can think. You’re only semi-aware of him shifting and gathering his things, only semi-aware of Tommy cleaning his hand off on his jeans to re-dress himself. You’re almost asleep when you feel the press of a kiss to your cheek, opening your eyes to find it was in fact Joel who did it, thumb running soothing circles across the skin of your hip. 

“Thank you.” You say meekly, reaching up to cup his face in your palm. 

“My pleasure, darlin’,” He smiles down at you, “I hope it helps.” 

Then he’s gone, following Tommy out of the bedroom and back down the stairs. You can, once again hear their muted voices, but this time, instead of setting you on edge, it lulls you to sleep. By the time Tommy comes back, climbs into bed and spoons you from behind, you’re almost asleep. 

“Did so fuckin’ good for me baby,” He murmurs into your ear, “So fuckin’ proud of you.”

Through the haze of sleep taking over you, you manage to mumble out, “Hope it works.” 

He chuckles, his body shaking your own where he has you wrapped in his embrace, “Me too baby, me too.” 

Within minutes you’re asleep. So asleep that you don’t feel his hand resting above your womb, silently praying that sooner, rather than later, he’s going to start feeling you swell there. Silently thanking the good lord for giving him such an understanding brother and a girl willing to do anything for him. 

[rinneverse]

bye this is like my 3rd ask abt penacony men i’m so sorry guys .. i hope you really don’t mind me sending asks abt this <3 /gen

listen imagine boothill n gallagher bro 😭❌ whole other level igs not even that funny anymore … LIKEEEE compared 2 aventurine n sunday they’re acc more wilder istg they be eating u out at the most random places ever (yeehaw ig)

and like … this seems a lil goofy but look me straight in the eyes and tell me aventurine wouldn’t use the forbidden tongue n fingering combo on u while u order sum shi on door dash or sumn 😭🙏 struggling 2 keep ur voice stable LMAOO he’s literally a menace istg

omg don't be sorry in the slightest i do not mind at all!! i love seeing u in my inbox <33 putting everything undr a cut bc i got kind of out of hand >//////<

cw for gallagher / boothill / aven x f!reader (all separate), cunnilingus, fingering, overstim mention etc etc :p

gallagher... he's got experience. lots of it. i know he can make u cry from his tongue ALONE I KNOW IT IN MY BONES. he talks you through it too: long, thick fingers pumping into your pussy while he murmurs in that gravelly voice of his in your ears. "yeah, you like it when i do that? how about right here? you gonna cum for me?" he's so sexy he awakens something in me it's crazy.

and boothill... he can genuinely go for hours. like, he doesn't care that ur overstimulated and he's been eating u out for what feels like forever. he likes seeing you become a mess under his ministrations and he won't stop until he feels like it (which potentially could be never.. but he likes seeing u cum on his cock too, so he doesn't mind). he also has no regard for being in public so whenevr he gets the urges he'll just tug u into the nearest bathroom, mount u on the sink, and sink to his knees. he likes when u wears skirts/dresses for easy access <3

aven... he is a fucking menace. u could be on an important phone call for all he cares and he's kneeling between your legs, pawing at ur pretty cunt while u give him a Look. he doesn't care, though. he'll push ur panties to the side and go at it like a man STARVED. and don't even get me started on his rings while he fingers you... good heavens

[aces-and-angels]

seeing the influx of gfm campaigns on your dash may be overwhelming- the purpose of this post is to help others navigate through the many gfm links that are circulating here on this site- esp. those that find their way directly to you via your inbox. this advice is specific to tumblr- i cannot speak on other platforms (instagram, twitter, etc.) though some things i say may be applicable

disclaimer: i do not vet/verify any campaigns myself. i simply want people who are willing to engage with these types of posts to do so in a safe manner

read more below:

---

what to do if you get a message from an account claiming to be 🇵🇸 in your inbox:

-> step 1: do not immediately dismiss it as spam

to quote one of nabulsi's posts:

"... you cannot generalise with Gazans if their tumblr blog is only a few days or a few hours old.

Gazans on tumblr are making accounts for the express purpose of spreading their fundraisers because it is spreading amongst Gazans that tumblr is a safe place to do so.

They could often be making multiple blogs and even remaking after staff flags them as spam. But don't blanket assume that Gazans are scammers if they're on a new tumblr blog with no pfp or content.

I agree that until a fundraiser is vetted you shouldn't reblog it in case it is someone dishonest taking advantage of the circumstances in Gaza. But you cannot do the opposite and immediately assume they're a scammer. I'm seeing people harass Gazans sometimes who genuinely are people who just don't know how to use tumblr and are falsely raising red flags because of it." (read full post here)

to sum it up: don't hit 'report' right away- marinate a lil and put on a detective hat

-> step 2: background check

the following are accounts that are known to vet/verify gfm campaigns here on tumblr. note- this is not a comprehensive list:

el-shab-hussein

nabulsi

90-ghost* (edit 8/4: recently announced that ahmed will no longer be vetting/verifying new campaigns)

ibtisams* (only has done it on situational basis; is not currently vetting new campaigns- read post here)

rubashabansblog (has been promoting other palestinians who lost their tumblr accounts; currently living under occupation)

heba-20 (unsure if heba takes request to vet others personally but is a reliable source for finding legitimate campaigns)

northgazaupdates

fairuzfan (says they are less active on tumblr these days/not currently vetting new campaigns but is a reliable source)

i recommend giving these individuals a follow if you haven't already as they provide far more information regarding all things 🇵🇸. they've all put in a lot of work to make the process i'm sharing with y'all as simple as possible. also please be respectful if you try reaching out to any of them. they are likely getting a high volume of asks and may not be able to respond to you quickly

important note: it has been recently announced that nabulsi + el-shab-hussein have stopped vetting new accounts for the time being and are only focusing on campaigns that have already been vetted. read their full statement here and here

to start- check out the person's account. this can be a hit or miss depending on how new the account is. however- you may notice that the person in question has stated that they have been vetted:

good signs so far- but better to be safe than sorry. next thing to do is search the username of the person who messaged you on tumblr. it's likely if you got a message like the one pictured above, others may have received one as well and did the digging for you:

if you can't find a clear answer with tumblr's illustrious search bar/want to confirm someone's claim that the campaign in question was already verified, the next thing to do is check one of the following:

el-shab-hussein's pinned post

el-shab-hussein/nabulsi's google sheet

imo, this process is far easier to do while on a laptop/desktop vs. mobile app. ctrl+f is your friend in this scenario as is the ability to click through multiple tabs. for el-shab-hussein's pinned post, i click through the multiple lists and see if any names match. in ruba's case, she was found under List of fundraisers for my direct contacts from Ghazzah & Sudan:

and for the google sheet- her campaign is no. 90 on the list:

tip: to narrow down your search even further- ctrl+f the title of the person's gfm campaign that they've linked on their tumblr account:

-> step 3: share your findings + follow that account

if everything checks out- ✨share le campaign✨ provide the link to it in your response to the ask + where it was verified. make it easier for the next person who gets a message to figure out that the gfm is real

following 🍉accounts is esp. important since the forces that be are keen on suppressing them at every turn. the more eyes on these accounts- the easier it'll be to determine the legitimacy of any new accounts they may need to make

---

okay, but... scams 😬:

-> step 1: seek a master

people can be assholes- and anyone trying to make a profit off of an ongoing genocide can eat glass

anyways- the following are accounts that are known to identify scam posts on tumblr (again, not a comprehensive list. these are just the one's ive seen/most familiar with):

mangocheesecakes

kyra45

kyra45's pinned post contains a plethora of resources to help determine if a post/message is a scam- and not just in regards to 🇵🇸- key goes in on many types of scams. please refer to their guides (and be sure that you are reading the most recent version of key's posts)

-> step 2: if you see sumn, say sumn

we're human and sometimes things slip our radar. so if you ever see someone on here sharing a known scam, do 'em a solid and let them know about it regardless if you are mutuals or not

---

final/misc. thoughts:

it's good practice to double check a campaign's verification with these tools for yourself regardless of how legitimate it looks. note that checking for a gfm's verification is not the same as verifying them. that work should be left to qualified individuals with experience in doing so. this is why it's bad to attempt things you are not qualified to tackle also- i think it's important to remember that transferring 💵 from a gfm campaign to those in need requires a lot of pieces to be perfectly set in place. if you see 🇵🇸 blogs linking alt. methods of raising funds (ex. p*ypal/k*fi) the reason could be that their gfms were frozen/suspended for a myriad of reasons. as always- check credible sources if you are unsure about a campaign you may come across notice how the spreadsheet provided here has over 100+ campaigns listed. generating a list that extensive requires hard work that is undoubtedly both physically and mentally straining to the individuals who are involved in making it. i've seen some accounts myself that have had to announce that they can no longer continue to vet campaigns because it has taken that much of a toll on their wellbeing. do not let their efforts go wasted

other resources:

some other places/grassroot organizations where you can find vetted campaigns:

operation olive branch (oob)

gazafunds

operation poppy flower (now also linked in oob's sheet)

operation watermelon

project watermelon

strawberry seeds collective

ottawa4palestine

camps breakerz crew

gofund(water)me(lons)

flowersfromfalasteen

[sugaryapplepie]

Twinshot/Necroshot

Art by @cosmic-fishy Eyeshot AU belongs to @dynamicsimp

Tags: Yandere Content, WLM, OC x Canon, Drabble, Twinshot, Necroshot

AN: Small reminder to be respectful in my inbox pls & thank you <3

Xingshen's hand shakily grabbed at the doorframe as she willed her aching legs to move. Her sharp teeth were clenched as she forced left to go before right. Star couldn't stay here, it wasn't safe. A thump from around the corner made her pause, holding her breath as she flattened herself against the wall. Slowly, after counting out ten breaths, she peeked around the corner into th darkness of the living room. Nothing that she could see, but then again, stars eyesight was always worse in dim lighting.

It was why they kept the lights low.

After twenty more breaths, Xingshen gritted stars teeth. One...two...three...keep it quiet, keep steady...four...five...six...

Just a few more paces to the door...

Seven...eight...

A small creak. The floorboards. She paused, heart pounding, stars hand desperately outstretched for the doorknob. Thirty more breaths. No one there, must be the old apartment settling.

Against her better judgement, star goes for it. She takes the first few steps forward in a dash but wobbles, falling to the floor with a loud BANG! The lights turn on, flooding her vision. She winces and softly gasps, too in pain to scream as she shuts her eyes.

"Xixi? What're you doin' out here, you're supposed to be in bed!"

Xingshen doesn't have to open her eyes to recognize the teasingly disappointed tones. Star feels Wukong lifting her up.

"That was a nasty fall there. You're such a goof!" he chuckles, rubbing his cheek against hers. "What were you doing out here? Ohhh I know! You missed us, didn't you~? Awww, Xixi, we told you we'd be right here if you needed us!"

And speaking of the other half, a woosh told Xingshen that Macaque had arrived. The lack of brightness against her eyelids told her he had mercifully extinguished the lights.

"Jeez, Xingshen, you're so clingy. We just put you to bed an hour ago! Then again, I guess I can't blame ya."

Xingshen felt Macaque ruffle her hair. If it were anyone else star would've bitten their hand off, but she learned what happened if star retaliated. She felt herself being carried back to her bed, placed now on a body-sized ice pack. In spite of starself, Xingshen let out a relieved sigh as stars joints began to be soothed.

"Maybe we oughta get her a walker, or a cane. Or a wheelchair." "Nahhh, what does Xi need that for when she's got us? It's like we promised: she won't have to lift a finger while we're here! And since she missed us so much..." Xingshen felt Macaque and Wukong hop on the bed, crawling under the covers and snuggling close so she's pressed between the both of them, their soft fur a pleasing texture.

Wukong stroked her back with his claws. "Now this time, stay asleep. You know what the doctor said, you need your rest. Next time you get up before nap time's over we'll do more than cuddles." He kissed the top of stars head.

Xingshen sighed internally. She'd have to wait a few days to make another bid for freedom. In the meanwhile, all she could do was sink into a hazy sleep as the coolness of the ice pack washed over her body.

[chloeangelic]

addressing the drama (with receipts)

I wanted to have my ducks in a row before speaking out instead of just responding; I’m not doing this to change anyone’s opinions - it’s really not possible change someone’s perception of me even if it’s based on falsehoods - but I need to do this so I know I’ve said and shown what needs to be shown, and people can do with it what they please. 

To the readers and writers who have blocked me, unfollowed me, and mutuals who have stopped talking to me over this - I’m really, really sad you didn’t come to me first and give me the opportunity to explain what was going on. I understand if you wanted to distance yourself from drama but I also need you to understand that this was not discourse-drama I willingly got myself into. This was a month of frequent harassment and slander that eventually turned into bullying by a group of people using false info, hiding behind side blogs and anons, and I hoped it would blow over but it never seemed to stop. With anons turned off for most of the last two months, people have gone to my friends’ inboxes instead to harass them about me (and insult them in the process), and I can’t do this anymore.

I feel so alienated and disliked in this community that I can’t go on the dash without feeling like I shouldn’t interact with anyone out of fear that they’ll get uncomfortable seeing me in their notifs. People keep saying they want the community to get better and then they jump on the bandwagon of vague posting and RBing without taking a second to verify the claims, clearly not realizing how much hurt it causes to perpetuate it. If you’re reading this, I  hope your name isn't the next one they pull out of the hat when they want someone new to push off the platform. 

Explanations, timelines and receipts below. 

-

For anyone waiting for an explanation regarding the posts and anons about me that have circulated for weeks, or waiting for receipts proving or disproving that I’m a mean girl who spends my time talking shit, here you go. I am so beyond hurt, I don’t even know what to say. I’m floored, I’m so disappointed in this community and I’m so sad. In the last two weeks, I stayed up until 4am one night receiving screenshots of posts and anons about me, I cried, I tried to understand why this has happened to me, and I have sat here day after day with no answers. 

If you think I’m being melodramatic, try losing a quarter of your mutuals and having a bunch of people block you when you’ve had either no interaction with them or they’ve all been positive, and see how that feels, on top of constant rumors about you being a terrible person when you know you’ve barely had any negative interactions with anyone on the platform. I can’t be on tumblr any longer without exonerating myself and putting it out there that all of this has been one gigantic mess based on lies about me, seemingly compounded by grievances people have against Gracie (some one whose personal conversations have nothing to do with me). Either I do this, or I log out forever and only post on ao3, cause I feel like the fucking grim reaper here. Posts about me being an awful person are still circulating, despite the original post being deleted and the follow up stating that the OP has talked to me and they have apologized.

I’m not naming names in this. I will be using person A/B/C/D to make it less confusing. I’ve removed identifying information from the screenshots because even though I’m hurt by these people, I know that they will get dogpiled and harassed if I identify them, and I want it all to stop. Several have apologized to me and I have accepted. 

Sometime in December, rumors started circulating that there was a “big/elite writers discord” where they talked shit about small writers (I’m not in any discords specifically for writers and I have never heard of such a server). At about the same time, person A - someone who was very active in my own, now-deleted discord server, started frequently vagueposting about me, calling me a mean girl and, intentionally or not, made it seem like I was part of this “elite group of writers”. This is someone who I have never had a negative interaction with and who seemingly out of nowhere decided that I call myself elite and I’m a terrible person. 

Person B had some grievances with myself, Iris, and Gracie it seemed, so they went to person C and accused us of talking shit in our voice chats. I assume person A and B have talked about me at some point and validated each other’s claims, but I can't know that for sure. Person B messaged me from a burner account and apologized, then seemingly deleted the account after I responded.

Gracie frequently posted about us three chatting, and although I understand this might have felt alienating to some, many writers are open about having group chats with each other. All we did was write, edit, and Gracie sometimes made memes. We talked about non-fic stuff often, and when Gracie had an issue with other writers and she was upset, we talked about it. That’s what friends do. She knows that I believe those situations were handled poorly. One of those situations came to light recently - I had a very pleasant conversation with the writer involved, and we are still in touch.

I have spoken to person C, who posted the most “popular” smear post about me and some of my friends. They retracted their statements and profusely apologized to us, admitting it was based on stuff they heard from person B, showing me screenshots of the conversation. However, their original posts are still circulating through reblogs despite being deleted from their account. 

Person D also posted about me and my friends, however their post was sort of ridiculous, accusing me of spending more time replying to anons than writing. I found this funny, but the way they slut shamed my friend was absolutely not humorous, and dragging a random writer in to criticize them was a strange attempt at adding fuel to the fire. 

-

And for the receipts, 

I blocked person A after seeing a handful of vague posts clearly about me, and after they interacted with every single rude anon posted about me that I saw. I think that’s reasonable, no? I’m not gonna post screenshots of their posts cause I honestly just don’t want to look at them again, they make me feel kind of sick if I'm honest, but if anyone doesn’t believe me, they are welcome to DM me and I will send. 

Person B messaged me, admitted to partaking in this mess, and apologized. This is part of a LONG message:

Person C apologized over message and called me on discord. We had a conversation clearing things up, they deleted their posts and wrote a public apology. 

If you need any proof that person B’s claims were, in fact, baseless, look at this exchange between person B and person C after person C had cleared things up with me.

Person D honestly just creeps me out, cause what the fuck is this? Fine if you don’t like me based on my writing or my persona on here but… Why the witch hunt? 

ETA: Person C asked person D to take down their post and they never responded. This was sent prior to that, I know the full context, I just thought this specific part was worth sharing to show how vile some people allow themselves to be behind burner accounts.

What kind of behavior is this? This was from a sideblog, and I don't know what their main account is. It creeps me the fuck out knowing this person is lurking somewhere in the community.

I have hated every moment of this. None of this has been fun for me. This has completely fucked up my motivation to write and my enjoyment of it, it has made me anxious, it has messed with my self esteem, and it has made me want to log out of Tumblr and not come back. 

Please, I beg, if you have an issue with me, just come to me and I promise I will have a conversation with you. You can’t tell people’s tone over anon and I don’t think that’s a good way to have a conversation, especially one about something that should be solved in private, so they remain off, but my DM’s are open. 

I'm so sick of seeing vagueposts and trying to decipher if they're about me. Having to do that a bunch of times messes with your head.

I'm not sure what to do moving forward, but I needed to say my piece. I don't want to talk about this again, I want to put this behind me. I seriously hope this doesn't wreck my last remaining want to share my writing on here.

Thanks again to everywhere who has supported me in my DMs and comments, you mean the world to me 🤍🤍🤍 And if you found yourself duped by all this but change your opinion on me now or eventually, I won't hold a grudge, and I'm happy to speak again and pick up where we left off.

[lacroixqueen]

Okay not sure were my asks back to back or not, but same anon with the one just kneeled about ex bf deadpool fix

May I say the part where we spread his legs and rest our forearms on his thigh were really damn hot and made me goes feral? Okay so I went to read your knee deep honda odyssey fic as well and went the same feral when I read he spread out legs apart as he said we're not excused.... Dear lord I am unsalvageable for this man and they way you wrote him

Also, the fact he dipped his head inside the sundress was incredible hot, bless you.

AND THE WAY HE SPANKED AND SCORN US AWOOOOOOO YOU GOT ME ON A CHOKEHOLD WITH THAT YES SIR AND GOOD GIRL AFTERWARD

The way he took his time to mimic choked gurgling noise got me cackling as well, he's so over the top

The ending got me rolling because AAAA I WANT MORE BUT AT THE SAME TIME I REALLY LIKED HOW WE AND HIM MAD-DASHED TO ACTUALLY DO THE FUCKING MISSION?? SCREAMS. BUT I ALSO WANTED TO SEE IT END WITH A BANG!!

awww omg ok I've been sitting on this message for DAYS because it genuinely makes me so happy opening up my inbox and seeing someone liking my writing so much and even the lil details I put thought into this genuinely means everything so thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading and loving my fics

here is the honda odyssey fic if ppl wanna read hehe

also feel free to send more asks I'm happy to look at requests and I also love compliments sladkjdjklaslk but thank you sm again aaa

[mandiemegatron]

Why kill off the reader in the second part of losing the war? I was expecting Kidd or Killer to get hurt or something but killing the reader? Tell us you don't care about your readers without telling us you don't care about your readers. Who the fuck kills off the READER? Take the L and maybe stop acting like your writing is better than it actually is.

*deep breath*

Okay.

I've received a handful of anons similar to this one and I didn't think I'd have to come on here to break down my ideas and give reasons as to why I wrote something the way I did, but clearly some people are pretty pressed over my choices for Just Come Home. Everything under the readmore so I don't clog up people's dash.

Let's break this down one point at a time. So firstly, my choice to kill off the Reader was actually a last-minute decision while finishing it off. My original idea was reader never forgives Kid and decides to fight Kid and Killer instead, losing and being left for dead (for Law to find), but decided, why not even more hurt? More pain and more anguish, as I was asked to put Kid through via some askers/anons. I found the best way to do that, was to kill off the reader. Have them make amends only to have that ripped from Kids hands and destroyed with a simple flick of the wrist, and honestly, the fact that I had myself in tears while writing it gave me the motivation to continue with that idea.

I also wanted to delve into trying my hand at Law who felt backed into a wall and decided to spill blood, all for the sake of having an upper hand, and if that meant he had to off the reader to keep that upper hand, then so be it. I wanted to write something different from my usual angst, something a little more devastating and I feel like I hit that mark pretty damn close. Truly, I'm sorry you feel differently about it.

Secondly, don't you EVER come into my inbox and point fingers, saying I don't care about my readers. Buddy, I probably care TOO MUCH about my readers, about what they think and about how they feel when reading my writing. This is incredibly hurtful for you to come up here and essentially scream in my face that this isn't good enough. I need you to understand that if you dont enjoy something, that means it wasn't written for YOU. Not everything you come across is going to be to your taste and it's insanely self-centered and entitled of you to come in here and tell me I don't give a fuck about my readers because YOU thought it was stupid. It feels like you're taking this a little personally and I don't understand why.

Lastly, i don't sit here and brag about my writing. In fact, I feel like I stay pretty quiet other than some self reblogs of things I've written when I'm feeling that certain blorbo. It's confusing and again, hurtful, for you to come in here and essentially tell me to shut the fuck up... on my own blog. That's some strange activities there, buddy. I think you maybe need to log off for a bit, go sit in nature and do some deep breathing because this is crossing the line over to chronically online. Please go outside for a bit. Please revise your manners and remember the golden rule. You don't have to be religious for you to understand "treat others the way you want to be treated".

Do better.

[chairofchaos]

You Deserve Better, and Other Points for Reflection

Hey friends, listen up. Real talk for a second, because nobody deserves this. And, in case anybody cares, I want you to know I come with 12 years of learning on this exact debate we have been having, because I had some very excellent fandom mentors in my communities and in the form of my uncles, who to this day support me writing and reading whatever hell I please, even in the face of protest from my immediate family. There was a lot of learning I had to do to be here with you now, and I am thankful for those people who were willing to tell me so.

If you want to post memes and think pieces and jokes and poems about a fandom debate, go ahead! You create the experience you want to see on your dash, and you will find your people.

If you want to discuss a fandom debate (a little or a lot), go ahead! I’m all for thinking through how we live and act and exist as a fan community.

If you feel that you need to take those things and turn them into vitriol to pour into the DMs and Anons of people who are running a fan week, that is not okay. Not in the slightest.

There is a big difference between debate, discussion, creative protest, and joking around, and intentionally using your words to create harm in someone’s life.

“But, Chaos, this [thing not directly sent to you/not specifically intended for you] hurt my feelings!”

Okay. Get burned once? Great! You learned something: don’t touch the hot iron again. (To translate: block the tag, block the person, whatever you need, and move on. If it isn’t for you that’s ok.) Hurt feelings are to tell you what you can and/or are willing to handle. If you don’t want to see it, block. (I love blocking tags it’s one of my little joys in life lol)

“Chaos, somebody said something really rude to me to my (virtual) face! What do I do?”

Well, you can either respond or you can block. Either way, it will probably help you to move on.

If you are responding, I beg you to keep one thing in mind. I want you to picture 7 year old you at the other end of that message. Or 13 year old you. What kind of words did they deserve to hear in a moment when maybe they weren’t getting something? Use those. Use them kindly, not in a condescending way, but in a “I want to explain this as gently as I would to my younger self” kind of way. If somebody keeps being mean, it isn’t worth it. Please use the block feature and move on. They are not worth your time.

Additionally, I would encourage you to do this: the “touch grass” mentality is something I only direct at myself. (I literally told myself to go touch grass yesterday, and there is at least one person who can corroborate that.) I stand by that decision every single day. It’s kept me out of a lot of trouble. Directing it at others does not end well, but directing it at yourself can be a good way to reflect and to consider sensible actions in the face of overwhelming situations or emotions (of which I experience many).

“Chaos, people are coming into anon and being hateful. Or just rude. Or they’re dumping triggering material into my anons.”

That is on them. That is not on you. They should not do that. And I am so sorry you are dealing with that. I’m going to be honest, I don’t know if you can block from anons (I’ve never even needed to look and so help you all if this is the post that makes me) but if you can, do. I will do what I can to help, if you need it. Regardless of where you stand on any of these issues, because I will not stand for hatred.

“I’m mad about [redacted] and I am going to be rude/mean/intentionally putting triggering material in people’s inboxes and activity feeds!”

You do that and you will be in a world of hurt, my friend. A world of hurt from yourself.

Because we create the experience we think we deserve. If you create an internet experience where it is acceptable to be hateful, vengeful, and downright cruel to other people, that is the experience you will receive in return. You deserve better than that. And if you believe that you deserve better than that but the people you’re directing cruelty towards don’t, then I want you to hear me: you will quickly find that you are not welcome anywhere. There will always be someone to disagree with. There will always be (at least) minute discrepancies in the way two or more people think, even people who are deeply similar.

Hurt the hand that reaches to help you- one day it will be raised against you in hurt as well.

As for me? Well, for that, I leave you with thoughts from George Washington’s Farewell address as paraphrased in Hamilton’s ‘One Last Time’:

“Though, in reviewing the incidents of my administration, I am unconscious of intentional error, I am nevertheless too sensible of my defects not to think it probable that I may have committed many errors.”

I am not a president (and thank god for that because who wants Chaos in charge of a country?). I am simply a fandom member. A writer. A little chaos gremlin lurking behind trees in the forest.

But like Mr. Washington, I am aware that I often fail to live up to my standards and principles. And I hope, truly, though it is wildly uncomfortable for me, that you would call me out for ways I have failed to uphold them, either in the past or in the future. (It would be super great if you like… called me out in DMs and didn’t put me on blast but oh well.)

I am in at least four other major (international, GIANT) fandoms. I am not hopeful enough to think that the ACOTAR fandom will learn from the fandoms of yore. We will have to weather these storms on our own, even with the knowledge and experiences already there. I think that’s okay. Disappointing, perhaps, but okay.

Since this post was much longer than it was intended to be, I will summarize:

If you are intentionally putting hateful materials in the inboxes, DMs, and activity feeds of people you disagree with, you will hurt yourself.

You create the experience you think you deserve, and in doing so, create that experience for others. Good or bad.

Block tags, block blogs, block what you need to enjoy the space. You will find your people.

Being intentionally cruel to other human persons is how you end up finding that nobody is “your people” because you created an environment where no one wants to be. You will be lonely and sad. Don’t make yourself lonely and sad.

I am certain I fail to uphold these principles at times. Feel free to call me out if you see me failing at these. DM appreciated, but I’m the one who invited you to do so so I’m not going to say “don’t blast me on main.” My funeral, I know.

[crappymixtape]

steve harrington • requests // asks

( ANY REQUESTS AND ASKS FOR ALL CELEBRATIONS, SEASONAL THEMES, AND ONE-OFF INBOXES I GET, STEVE x YOU // mature content marked appropriately )

🔥 BECAUSE OF YOU, SERIES ( 500 FOLLOWER REQUEST )

main fic -> ( part 1 ) ( part 2 ) ( part 3 ) ( part 4 ) ( part 5 ) bonus parts -> ( baby let me in ) ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+ | ( 3.1k – little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )

👯 1000 FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION

"play it cool" – 1000 CELEBRATION REQUEST, requesting the cd because i think i need to explore more music and this seems like a good way to do that! | ( song x blurb with steve harrington x reader – this one is a lil fluffy, a lil flirty, a lil fun – recommended to listen to your song while reading! )

"don't go dark again" – 1000 CELEBRATION REQUEST, oh baby, you know I gotta ask for a song for my beloved, steve | ( song x blurb with steve harrington x reader – this just leaned real angsty, hurt / comfort for a monday morning – recommended to listen to your song while reading! )

"honey, i've got it bad for you" – 1000 CELEBRATION REQUEST, can i pls request a love note from steve <3 as for mood anything a little lovelorn and fluffy will do | ( love note steve harrington x reader, little fluffy, little lovesick, lots of sweet )

🎄 A VERY MERRY MIXTAPE – WINTER THEMED ASKS

"very merry mixtape" winter!theme REQUESTS are nested under the series / multi-part master list post *18+

👯 500 FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION

"don't make me say it" – 500 CELEBRATION REQUEST, you make me want things I can’t have prompt | ( 2k – mostly angst, dumb boi steve, and a little fluff right at the end to take you home, steve x reader )

"i hate you ( not )" – 500 CELEBRATION REQUEST, love a good enemies to lovers smutty fic – anything works, just lots of sarcasm and name calling to build up the tension • *18+  | ( 3.6k – a nice lil mountain of angst that rolls down into a big ol’ valley of smut, steve x reader )

"good love makes you hesitate" – 500 CELEBRATION REQUEST, don’t do this here prompt | ( 2.2k – all of the angst, tiny bit of fluff, best friends to lovers, steve x bff!reader )

💌 CRAPPYMIXTAPE INBOX ASKS

"you gotta help me, baby" – REQUEST -> fluffy one about you having a summer job babysitting and Steve always coming over to keep you company...idc just Steve being a massive simp as always | (  2.3k, modern!day au, fluff, established relationship, steve x you, steve x reader )

"shut up and kiss me" – REQUEST -> fluff prompt #25 "shut up and kiss me” • you get laid off and go back to hawkins for the weekend to wallow with your friends and the gang seizes the opportunity to try and get you two dummies to figure it out | ( 5.7k – fluff, a little angst, mostly fluff, friends to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

"smoke and glitter" – REQUEST -> robin's been begging you to throw a party down yb the lake on your uncle's farm, like on another level, so you finally give in and who does she drag along? some co-worker from the mall and he's a total dork...right? | ( 2k, fluff, friends to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

💌 MOOD BOARD x SONGS ASKS

"idiots -> lovers" steve harrington x you, idiots / enemies to lovers

"valentine's day" steve harrington x you, soft / intimate *18+

"best friends -> lovers" steve harrington x you, bffs to lovers

"enemies -> lovers" steve harrington x you, enemies to lovers at work *18+

[imfoive]

── IMFOIVE turned FOIVE (months) 🎉

OMG ALSO 1k Followers Appreciation!!

I just wanna make this little appreciation post because I’m so so grateful for everyone who enjoys my content and my random tag rambles and posts🥺

I don’t know how much about myself I’ve put out there especially since I’m new to stayblr and the skz writing community, but I’ve been a fanfic writer and fake text creator for another fandom and took a loooooong break before returning to write for skz. A lot has changed in the few years but I’ve received nothing but positivity and sweetness from those I’ve interacted with.

Also Wow time flies?? This blog is officially and only foive (hehe) months old and in these months I’ve started 3 series (completed 1), wrote 4 one-shots(more on the way), a BUNCH of fake texts. I’ve been more productive here than in real life lmaooo

Okay but seriously, garnering so much love and hitting such a milestone this soon not only makes me super duper grateful that so many of you enjoy seeing me on your dash, but also am so excited to share even more amazing content.

To my readers, fake text enthusiasts, the lurkers and just those who simply take a glimpse of my blog and all the activitiy that comes with it, I’m truly thankful and I hope you stick around to see me yap about my love and admiration for eight precious guys, while creating things that could put a smile on your faces.🩷

My messages and inbox are always open, so drop by with your thoughts and random rambles and I will not hesitate to respond with the same enthusiasm!

(I also have a series project planned and a masterpost will post this weekend 🥰)

So thankful, Hana

[struck-by-the-rain]

its genuinely heartbreaking how many Palestinians there are trapped in horrendous situations who need our help on here. I have been donating but i wish I could financially support every single person in my inbox.

If my posts or art have brightened your day just a bit, or if youve just happened to stumble upon this, please donate to one of the fundraisers ive rbed (tagged as #palestine on my blog, ive started queueing them so they post at peak times for most of tumblrs userbase) or on gazafunds or crips for esims (organisation that takes donations n collectively buys eSIMs for people in Gaza, ive heard good things about it).

I should probably make a post compiling all the fundraisers ive had sent to me, but im putting this up for now.

(doodle bc im hoping itll make this post more noticeable on my dash!!)

[daxerian]

Out of all, you are my favourite flower

Mick Shumacher x Reader

Warnings: FLUFF, and my wonderful grammar😜

Words: it's 3:20am please, this info is too much to ask for

A/N: So basically I'm kinda sick rn again😻🤞🏼 and I was too lazy to write another fic but here I am at 3:20am ❤️

Also I read every comment, inbox message, etc. And I am so incredibly greatful for the ideas, sweet messages and all❤️❤️ and I will be writing soon enough the ideas you guys left on here ‼️ and take care, stay hydrated and don't lose your lip balm!!! Now enjoy reading 🧁

Mick Schumacher dashed into the quiet flower shop, his racing heart matching his hurried footsteps. He had promised his friend a gift for the birthday party they were attending, but in his rush, he had forgotten to buy one. His eyes scanned the vibrant display of blooms, searching for the perfect gift.

"Excuse me, do you need any help?" a sweet voice called out from behind the counter. "Um, well yes! I'm attending a birthday party and I forgot to buy a gift in all that rush, would you mind helping in any sort of way?" Mick was honestly surprised he could say more than one sentence without stuttering because, in his eyes, he was talking to the most beautiful woman ever to walk on earth.

"Well, to save you some time, you can pick one of the pre-made flowers we made this morning or you could pick some flowers and we can do a custom bouquet for you." Y/N softly told Mick the two options he could pick from with a smile on her face. "If we did a custom one, how long would it take?" Mick asked her, "About 10 minutes? It also depends on what kind of bouquet and how many types of flowers you want" Y/N once again answered softly with a happy face.

"Ooh, I'm afraid I don't have a lot of time to wait out for that custom one" Mick told her, "Oh, no worries! You can take a look and pick out one of the pre-made ones" Y/N told Mick with this tone in her voice that made Mick feel this weird but in a good way..

"These are all so beautiful too, which one do you like the most?" Mick asked Y/N, of course, he would go with the classic red roses but he wanted to talk to her more, "Well I would choose the one with peonies and irises, since it's giving such a fresh look and never looks bad anywhere you know? And it's also one of my favorites so that's the other reason" Mick listened to Y/N carefully, making mental notes to himself that Y/N likes peonies and irises together.

"I'll gladly take them then" Mick smiled while looking at her. "Perfect choice! That would be 27 euros" Y/N told him. Mick paid, thanked Y/N for her time and was now rushing to the party destination.

"Honey, I bet he's gonna come soon again" Y/N's colleague and friend, Layla, told her once Mick left the shop. "And what do you mean by that Lala?" Y/N asked Layla with curiosity in her. "He was looking at you like you were some kind of goddess, and with these big love heart eyes" Layla was now excited to tease her friend a bit, since she only told the truth, she could have all that fun in the world.

"He wasn't! He needed help and I helped him, that's part of our job you know?" Y/N told her, trying to deny the fact that Mick was looking at her like that. "Now what exactly are you trying to deny?" Layla asked Y/N, raising her eyebrow because she saw all of those lovie-dovie looks he was giving her friend. "Nothing Lala! I'm just saying the basic facts, he needed help and that's what I did, helped him" Y/N told her.

"So you are telling me that a man that's in a rush stops his spinning world just to talk to you more? Girl, you know damn well that if someone is in a rush they just pick out these pre-made flowers that we put our souls into, pay and leave, running to their destination so they can look like they are on time. And that man stopped his rush mode to listen to you, to adore your passion about this whole flower business, and I'm telling you, he'll come back soon" Layla just told her friend the truth, she wanted Y/N to understand that the stranger that came to the shop was gonna return, for her.

-----

2 weeks passed and Layla was right. Mick Schumacher was back in the flower shop again, but this time more chilled with no intention of rushing to get somewhere. "Hello, how was your day so far?" Mick asked Y/N with a smile on his face, "Welcome again! I'm feeling perfect, what can I help you with today?" Y/N was happy to see Mick back in the shop, but she also knew that Layla wouldn't shut up about how right she was.

"Could we do a custom bouquet today?" Mick asked, "I hope we don't have to rush it this time" Y/N laughed a bit, bringing up the situation from 2 weeks ago. "No rush today" Mick laughed alongside her, oh how pretty she looked with her hair down. He thought to himself, "So a special bouquet for somebody, who might that person be?" Y/N asked him, to know a bit about the person she's gonna be making a bouquet for, because it can't be just good, it needs to be perfect.

"For my mum, she's visiting after what seems like a long time" Mick answered her question, having this cheeky smile on. "A special bouquet for a special person then," Y/N told him. "Yeah, and she likes roses kinda classic but I don't want to get her only roses, and I have no idea what goes with them" Mick told her. "They go along with a lot of types of flowers, one of the more fresh combos that I recommend to people are these pinkish roses with daisies and dahlias but maybe, for a more classic red rose bouquet, you could just do with a few baby's-breath, the little white flowers."

Mick listened, he could honestly listen to her talking about different types of flowers all day and wouldn't get tired of it."Let's do the fresh one you like to recommend to people" Mick told her, "Okay, perfect" and just like that Y/N started working her magic on the flowers. "So, I never quite caught your name?" Mick told her, "It's Y/N" She answered him, not looking at him but only focusing on the flowers. "Beautiful name for a beautiful woman" Mick told her while truly admiring her, he never met anybody with such a dedication and love towards flowers. And that's what made him like her, adore her, love her.

"What's your name" Y/N asked him, "Mick" "That's a very beautiful name, Mick" Y/N looked at him and gave him a soft smile before continuing her job. And the two of them made a small talk, got to know each other a bit more and then came the time when Mick had to pay and leave. "28€ today" Y/N told Mick, "There you go, and thank you so much again Y/N" Mick told her after he paid, "No problem, I hope your mum will like them" Y/N told him before they told each other goodbyes.

"And you didn't believe me, honey" Layla told her, feeling proud of herself that Mick had come again. "You should start listening to me more" she also added. "I will listen to you more than ever before Queen Lala" Y/N told her friend.

-----

*time skip to like a year later cause I don't have the energy to write everything 😔*

After months of being friends, Mick finally got brave enough to ask Y/N to be his girlfriend and of course, she said yes. (My dream fr, sorry) Now the two of them were having a lazy evening in Mick's apartment, a movie they weren't paying attention to and just focusing on each other's company. "You know Mick, out of all, you are my favourite flower" Y/N told him, "And you are my favourite thrilling memory, Meine Liebe"

❤️❤️

[moonrisecoeur]

Hi moon! Hope you're doing well!

Just wanted to send in a little question in hopes of getting some brain-dumping from you. But, if you want, can you talk more about Leon being needy and touch-deprived? Could be in any context (fluff or smutty) or any version of Leon (because let's face it, he's a pathetic baby across the board) but just wanted to hear your thoughts about that! <3

nicyyyy omg hi :3 i love seeing u on my dash and especially in my inbox heh !! hope you're well and work is good !! i'm doing awesome actually i got a 92 on my midterm that i could have sworn i should have failed. haha anyway!!

mostly fluff but theres a little bit of smutty thoughts too <3

hmm fluffy touchy leon is always such a favorite topic of mine ahhh i love re4r leon being touchy because like c'mon you're like his romantic second partner ever and, not even in like a romantic context, he doesn't get touched a lot!! i mean who is out here giving him hugs and giving him comfort when he's a literal killing machine? he doesn't really even feel worthy of comfort and touch, so he doesn't like asking for it. you gotta disguise it as you wanting comfort or else he'll try to push you away.

"no, sweetheart, i don't need you to baby me. really, it's fine, i don't even like it that much to begin with, it's fine," he says, but then if you say that you want a hug and you want comfort then of course he'll oblige!! and he won't notice it but the way you're rubbing his back in soothing circles as you hold him is definitely a sign that you're doing this for him!!

but also even in circumstances where he doesn't 'need' comfort, he still likes touch. you putting your hand on his arm or resting your cheek on his shoulder is enough to satisfy him in little moments like this.

i can also see every single version of leon being big fan of running his fingers through his partner's hair (or like just patting n petting their head if u got curly hair haha). like!! it's so close and soft and intimate, and he likes making you feel comfy. even if it's a brief hand on the back of your neck, scratching the base of your scalp gently as he leans in to kiss you, he can't get over it.

i also see all leons but especially re2r and re4r being especially fond of his partner cupping his cheek and holding his jaw as you look for little wounds or scratches. you know what i mean? do we see the vision? you're all worried for him, looking at him with such care and gentleness and he's looking right back at you with heart eyes good BYE !!

omggg he loves brushing a piece of hair behind your ear absentmindedly as you're talking. gawd especially like id or re6 good lord, like you're rambling about something and he just sits there listening to you, smiling because he thinks you're the most beautiful thing on this planet, and he reaches out to tuck of a piece of hair away and brushing his thumb against your cheek in the process. god my brain would stop i'd lose any thoughts in my head i would be contractually obligated to suck this man's dick im SORRY OMG

omg you know those guys who say their love language is physical touch but you know its just because they want sex like leon ACTUALLY feels love with touch both giving and receiving. like when he comes home from a mission and just collapses into your arms, poor thing!! you rub his back and press kisses to his temple and he just breaks down crying cux he misses you !! he hates being away from you but for your safety and for his too (because he knows the government would hold your life over his head too) he has to keep going on these missions even though they're literally killing him.

i think he learns to be better about accepting touch and affection overall with age. especially like di leon like he's always giving you hugs and kisses but like he just cannot get enough of you!! he gets less touch deprived and needy the longer he spends in a healthy, committed relationship. he still wants to touch you but he doesn't need it so intensely like he was younger.

also like we sometimes think of di leon like the conclusion, the ending, where he's completely or mostly healed of all his trauma. just because he's not as emo doesn't mean he's full gotten past everything. he's still trapped to some extent. sure, he's not the worn down, pathetic alcoholic old man that he was in re6 or vd and he's got friends he can rely on and he's doing better, but i still think he struggles with feeling worthy of the attention and care of others. he's probably not the best communicator of that either!! so just like with re4r leon, you might have to disguise it as for you as opposed to for him. he recognizes this but doesn't say anything or stop you.

as for smuttyyy hmm i like the idea of leon being touchy and affectionate during sex. like if he's single and it's just a one night stand he met at the bar, then no. absolutely not. he probably won't kiss them on the lips, mostly because he's deprived of that affectionate stuff and will definitely get attached. (edit: actually the more i think about it... maybe he would be overly touchy with some stranger because he's desperate and needs it soooo bad.. what if that scares them away and he gets all sad.. dawg now i'm sad) but if it's his long term partner then he absolutely wants to hold your hand, let you touch him however you like.

on days where he's more needy and touch deprived, i can see him leaning a bit more dominant, just taking what he wants. of course ur not gonna fight him because it's the one time he'll actually seek physical comfort without it having to be a battle between you and his own insecurities. he holds you tightly and possessively, claiming you as his, and gawd i mean what else do you do besides go along with it?

cuz like i don't see him as a total sub (sub leaning switch men x dom leaning switch women representation) but i do also see his neediness manifesting in him poorly communicating his needs. i mean, let's be real. he's not the coolest guy. he's shy and awkward and canonically not good with women (and i'm sure men too). but if you coax him into voicing what he wants from you... he gives in and lets you take care of him.

couple extra random notes:

re2r leon after the events of raccoon city finds it hard to be touchy feely and everything. tries to keep his distance cuz he's so in his head and upset about what happened.

re4r leon struggles a lot emotionally and mentally and thus is very in the most in need of comfort yet the least likely to get it as he can't communicate it very well :( plus he doesn't have a lot of agency/free will in his life so as much as i wanna say "you just gotta give him love!! he deserves it!!" it also feels like he would push away anyone who is too affectionate and loving with him. as bad as it sounds it feels like just another burden being forced onto him.

id leon i would say gives me the least touch starved needy vibes. i also feel like they made him a little too cool in id, he's not loser-y enough to be leon kennedy you know ?? but he's keeping himself busy in order to not have to think about his traumas and problems, and trying to ignore his obvious need for attention and companionship.

re6 leon is struggglinggggg he is barely able to keep himself together and just some gentle touches and love breaks him down to an emotionally needy mess. this is the man that would accidentally be overly loving and affectionate with a stranger he met at the bar.

[daydreamgoddess14]

Here she is! 🎉

Ella Cole - the only reject at Slough House to view her banishment as a fresh start and a chance to change her life for the better. Ella never again wants to draw attention to herself the way she did at the Park, but the past has a nasty habit of catching up with even the most cautious of people, and Ella is about to find out that keeping herself distanced from everyone is no guarantee she can keep them safe.

Taglist: @theskytraveler @moonmaiden1996 @acrackintheteacup @succulentthief

Masterlist

Warnings: *I want to be super clear on warnings so this might give away a handful of spoilers* Mentions & depictions of DV (not graphic or laboured), minor mentions of SV (not dubcon or rape, more like coercion and 'feeling obligated'), stalking, impact of all of this shit on a child, OFC is a single mother so there are depictions of motherhood. My inbox is open if you have any questions or want to talk 😘

The Escape Artist - Chapter 1

Six months. For Ella Cole, it had been six months of living hand to mouth, trying to pay for flats, bedsits or house shares with mould on the walls and mushrooms growing out of the carpet. Drug dealers on the stairs, unlicensed dogs barking night after night, bits of kids more than half her age with flick knives and vapes. She didn't bother them, and they didn't bother her. She knew this world and understood the ecosystem and flashpoints. She leaned against the front door and wiggled the key, the only way to get it to lock properly. It was still early, quiet in the stairwell bar one other person who kept his hood up and his hands deep in his pockets. 

“Lend us a tenner, El?” 

“I'm skint Dozzer, sorry.”

“Just till tomorrow?”

“No, Doz. Get down the clinic when they open, they can get you something to get you through the day.”

“Ain't allowed in there this week. ‘Ad a row with the security gaffer.” He sniffed.

“They'll kick you out for good if you keep that shit up. I've got to go, ask Mike.”

“Thanks anyway, bab.” She didn't see anyone else on the way out. The girls would still be sleeping, false lashes caked in mascara and lipstick stains bleeding into the soft lines around their mouths. She had to get out of this block, she'd only accepted it out of desperation. The black mould on the walls of the last place stank and it was wreaking havoc with her lungs. Putting her foot on a mushroom growing out of the carpet was the last straw, but after two months she'd also had enough of bumping into addicts and sex workers in the corridors, and she was sick of the girls pimp trying to enlist her. The fellas would love ya, you could make a killin’ babe he told her. Despite the early hour, the smell of weed in the building entrance was overwhelming. 

“Ugh.” A small voice next to her complained. She'd stayed quiet so far. She wasn't always keen on Dozzer, even less so when he was after money. 

“I know, baby, it's gross.” Ella wrapped her arm around her daughter's shoulders and guided her out into the street. “It's cold, zip your coat up.” If there was ever a reason to get out of their current accommodation situation, she was it. 

“Can we go to the cafe?”

“Not today, you're in breakfast club.” They navigated the street, avoiding puddles from the never-ending rain and bags of uncollected rubbish. Ella checked her watch, late again. She only had half an hour to get to the school and then on to Slough House. Lamb never said anything if she was late, just an arched eyebrow and withering stare. She still had no idea how much he knew - or didn't know - about her. She'd certainly not told him anything. She hadn't told any of them, six months of polite-ish conversation and pointed silence. Grabbing the girl's hand, Ella dashed out onto the pedestrian crossing outside the school. An approaching car slammed on its brakes and sounded the horn. Ella spun around to face the driver.

“It's a fucking crossing, you twat!” She yelled. The driver glared at her. The driver she recognised glared at her, and then quickly realised that they knew her. “Fucking hell, Cartwright, you trying to kill us?” She raised her middle finger and continued across the road and into the school gates. She waited at reception for the breakfast club staff and said her goodbyes. As she walked back towards the road, she saw his car parked up across from the school. He beeped the horn once and gestured for her to get in. 

“Sorry, I was miles away.” He said as she got into the passenger seat. 

“My own fault. I shouldn't have rushed us out.” She muttered. “We were running late.” He didn't say anything. He merged with the traffic and drove in silence to Slough House. “I didn't mean to call you a twat,” she said as he went to open his door once he'd parked up. 

“Yeah you did. You gave me the finger after you'd recognised me.”

“Yeah I did,” she replied sheepishly. “Can you umm… can you not tell anyone?”

“About giving me the finger?”

“About her.” 

“Sure.” He shrugged. “Does she… does she have a name? Am I allowed to know?”

“Thanks for the lift.” She ignored the question and slammed the car door, trudging up the death stairs of Slough House. 

“Oh, on time I see? Just about.” Lamb sneered. He perched on the edge of Ho's desk. 

“Just about is still on time,” she told him on her way past. 

“Fucking hell, a Cartwright on time as well. You pair are spoiling me today, am I dying?” He jeered as River shoved the heavy door open. 

“God I hope so.” River muttered, dragging himself up the stairs behind Ella. By the time he'd stopped off to see Louisa, Ella had made a cup of tea for herself only, and pulled on noise cancelling headphones. “Make my own then, shall I?” He dropped into his wobbly, missing-a-wheel office chair and got stuck into the files Catherine had left on his desk. An hour later, Ella looked up from her files to fingers clicking in her face. She frowned and pulled off the headphones. 

“Yes?”

“You haven't said anything for like, an hour.”

“I'm working?”

“Well, yeah but -”

“Did you want something?”

“Can I ask a question?” She didn't reply so he went ahead. “What's her name? How old is she?”

“That's two questions.” He waited, expectantly. “She's eight.” Ella sighed. 

“And?”

“You'll take the piss out of her name so I'm not telling you.”

“You really think I'm in a position to take the piss out of someone's name?” She pursed her lips to hide the small smile. 

“Her name is Clover.” She braced for laughter, or a derogatory sneer which didn't come. 

“It's nice.”

“Nice?”

“Yeah, cute. Very hippy, I don’t envy teenage Clover. Did you choose it?”

“I did. I thought… I hoped she'd bring me luck.”

“Is that why you're here? Bad luck?” She shook her head slightly and put the headphones back on. End of conversation. “Right. Good chat, at least twenty more words than usual so that's progress.” Her head had dipped again, back to the files. 

“Are you talking to yourself?” Shirley asked from the doorway. 

“No, I'm talking to… her,” he trailed off miserably when it was clear Ella wasn't listening at all. 

“Twat. Lamb wants you.”

“Two twats in one day. I am a lucky boy,” he sighed, leaving Ella alone. 

*

As much as Ella appreciated Clover's preference for the sex workers over the drug addicts in the small block of flats, it made it somewhat trickier to explain why she wasn't allowed to pop and show them her freshly painted nails - which they always loved to see - or why she couldn't hang out at their flat for any longer than it took to say hello in the corridor.

“Why do they always have visitors?” She grumbled, admiring the purple glitter polish Ella had let her have on for the weekend. 

“Because that's their job lovey, their visitors pay to come and… play games together.”

“Like monopoly?”

“Something like that.” Ella mumbled, head halfway in the oven which wouldn't light. She idly wondered how long the gas would take to kill her, then she remembered she hadn't paid the bill. “Shit.”

“What's up?”

“McDonald's for tea. Get your shoes on.” Ella sat back on the kitchen floor, stained with god knows what, and always sticky no matter what miracle cleaning products she brought. It had to get better than this. Surely it had to get better than this. She gritted her teeth, breathing in short huffs to try and keep the tears at bay. She'd felt a pang of terror after giving away Clover's name to Cartwright. For six months she'd been so careful, not daring to speak about her to anyone just in case, just in case, it somehow reached other ears. She had no way of knowing who Cartwright was in with. He appeared above board, but didn't they all? In sleep deprived delirium, she'd even researched how to change Clover's name via deed poll. She hadn't slept properly for nearly a week, hadn't paid the gas bill, but she had a fiver in her pocket and a handful of change - enough for a kids meal and maybe something for herself if she was lucky. She leaned into the door and wiggled the key, and led Clover out, passed the congregation of kids on the stairs and straight into the girl's pimp.

“Alright, El? Still got a job for you if you want it?”

“No thank you Pav, payday on Monday. I'm sure I'll get by til then.”

“A loan then? You don't even have to pay me back in cash,” Pawel Wójcik leered at Ella, a rolled cigarette caught between his teeth. 

“Nope.”

“They love a milf ya know? Could get you forty quid a go?” Forty quid sounded like a lottery win but Ella stood fast. She held Clover's hand tightly.

“Bye, Pav.” She kept it polite, always kept it polite. He wasn't a man she wanted to upset or demean, she didn't have to work for him, he still had the ability to make her life miserable. She hadn't realised how much of a sliding scale ‘miserable’ was. She'd been miserable before but at least they'd been warm and well fed. She hadn't had pimps offering her work or addicts asking for cash. Bills were paid, and Clover had her own room. It wasn't going to be for long, she soothed. She was fighting hand over fist to get back the security deposit from the flat before. The letting company were trying to lay the blame for the mould on her and were holding onto the deposit to pay for the flat to be cleaned. Another call on Monday to get them to pay up and once they did she'd be back on her feet again. Assuming she made it to Monday. They huddled in bed together, even with the lack of sleep Ella finally felt peace. Her baby in her arms, too old really to be sleeping in her mother’s bed but when there was only one bed the options were limited. Ella thought it funny how Clo proclaimed to be a big girl who wanted her own room back, her own bed back, but who suddenly became so small again when it came to bedtime. Her stomach rumbled, the small burger she’d managed to scrape together the change for wasn’t really enough. She hoped the girls down the hall would be up in the morning, they usually had plenty of bread for toast. Pawel wouldn’t allow them to go hungry, it was bad for business when the sounds of hunger got in the way of the blow jobs. 

“Fuck me, you look like shit.” Sofia told her the next morning through a cloud of cigarette smoke.

“Can we borrow some bread til tomorrow?”

“Sofia, look at my nails!”

“Oh Clo, they look beautiful! Why don’t you ladies come in for a cuppa.”

“You don’t have any visitors?”

“Nah, we’re free til lunchtime. Don't expect to see Lulu though, she's sleeping off a big night.” Clo raced through the flat to the plush pink velvet sofa and flicked on the TV. Sofia put a gentle hand on Ella’s arm. “Rough week?”

“Awful. I need to call that letting agent again tomorrow, if I had that money back we’d have a safety net. I wouldn’t be hunting for fucking change to take to McDonalds.”

“Can you even pay cash there anymore?” Sofia put a huge mug of tea down on the table. Ella cleared her throat, nodding over at the draining board which was laden with dildos. “Sorry, washing up. I’ll hide these.”

“Please don’t make me explain to an eight year old what a dildo is.” Ella grimaced. With the dildos away, a plate piled high with buttered toast made its way to the table. Ella ate until she felt sick.

“Better?”

“Thank you. I’m sorry we had to come to you.”

“Don’t be. I’d rather look after you two than a fifty year old on viagra,” she shuddered. “Heart attack waiting to happen - and my first aid at work is not up to date.”

“You haven’t heard anything?”

“If he’s out, everyone’s keeping it quiet. I’ll tell you if I hear otherwise.” As Ella left, Sofia pushed a twenty pound note into her hand. 

“I can't take -”

“You can, you will.”

“I'll pay you back.”

“You won't. I've been there babe, I promise it'll be worth it.”

*

“Cole, with me.” Lamb ordered as lunchtime drew near on Monday. Ella's face fell, she'd planned a Subway payday treat before her wages were swallowed by bills and school clubs. She glanced over at River who shrugged and then followed Lamb outside, down the stairs and round the corner into the Chinese restaurant. His usual order was on the table already. “Whatever the girl wants.” He told the staff.

“Oh, no I'm fine.”

“You ain't paying, I know you’re broke.” Ella blushed. “Saw you nicking biscuits from Ho's desk for breakfast last week.” 

“Chow mein please.” She mumbled, eyes tracing the red gingham tablecloth.

“Get her some other bits as well, will ya? Put it on my tab. Now, what I'm trying to work out is why you're so broke. It's not the old fizzy lifting powder, you're not as twitchy as Dander. Longridge is the resident gambler -”

“Just had a few big bills this month.”

“Why are you here?”

“Why are you asking me? You could just find out from the Park. Or Ho.”

“I'm asking you,” he said sternly. After a few sloppy bites of noodles, he softened. “Look, you don't seem as brain dead as the rest of the idiots upstairs. You've done everything I've asked for six months, and stuff I haven't asked for, you haven't complained, you've had your head down and got it done. Some people far more stupid than me might actually think you were enjoying it.”

“Believe it or not, I am.”

“But why?” She pushed the chow mein around her plate. 

“I was married. I am married, actually. He's a big deal in organised crime, moves things around, makes things disappear. Money, drugs, people, gold, you name it. The Park were watching the gang, he made me doctor some images and change some tracking details to throw them off. Taverner found out it was me.”

“Did they get him?”

“Only on a lesser charge. A few of the lads went down for him on the big stuff.”

“He’s a bully then. Must be if he got his underlings to go down for him?” Ella swallowed thickly. 

“Yeah. He doesn't like… disobedience.” 

“Where is he now?”

“Serving a year, but he might be out by now.”

“And Taverner sent you to me. Why didn't she have you charged?”

“My dad is a copper. Between them they made it go away.”

“Bet daddy dearest was happy about that.”

“I wouldn't know, I haven't seen him for years.”

“Disowned and yet he still saved you from the clink, eh?”

“Something like that.”

“What a pickle you're in. A fallen woman, pushed from a life of luxury into squalor. You should write a book. Make sure there's lots of pictures though, otherwise Cartwright won't be able to read it.” He laughed loudly at his own joke and followed it up with a belch. “C'mon eat up. Will he come after you?” 

“I've been staying low, I know a few people who are listening out for me,” Ella thought of Sofia and Lulu, teasing any snippets of information from clients they knew of who had links to him. Lamb nodded, seemingly happy enough with her response. 

“We'll see, shall we? And the money?”

“I ran away with nothing. I've had to get deposits and advance rent together, it's just been a bit hard that's all.”

“Let's call this your six month probationary review, eh? Congratulations, you've passed and it comes with a payrise effective right now.” He pulled a battered wallet from his pocket and handed her a wad of notes.

“No, that's not right -”

“You're on less than the others, even Dander and she's only about twelve. Someone fucked up on payroll. Accept it and say thank you, Lamb.”

“Thank you, Lamb.”

“You're welcome, now this ain't a fucking charity so that's your lot. Sort your shit out and don't bring it to my door.” Ella hesitated, feeling like she should acknowledge Clover somehow. 

“Just so you know, if everything did go to shit -”

“Oh fuck off, Standish can keep your fucking cat if the ex offs you.”

“I have a daughter.” Lamb stared. 

“What do you want? A medal?” His cutlery clattered onto the empty plate. “Alright. Say no more.”

“Thank you.” 

“Don't get all fucking weepy, you're better than that. Pull yourself together and get back to work.” Ella nodded and got up from the table, leaving Lamb alone with the leftovers and his thoughts. 

*

Feeling  buoyed by her conversation with Lamb, Ella took advantage of Cartwright going to get a coffee and called the letting agent. She was halfway through giving them an earful when he returned. She knew he was eavesdropping, the page he was reading hadn't turned despite only having a handful of text on it. Unless Lamb had been right and he couldn't read. 

“Look, you owe me that money, that flat was not fit to be lived in. I have photos from the day I moved in, I have my hospital records which show I had three successive chest infections caused by black mould and I have a solicitor who specialises in getting deposits back from fraudulent landlords. I will put those pictures on every single platform I can and tell everyone that you're putting children at risk.” She kept her voice low but it dripped with anger. The monotonous voice on the end of the phone barely registered her threats. Ella balled her hand into a fist and bit down on it to keep from shouting. She didn't notice River get up from his desk until he was leaning over hers to pluck the phone from her ear. 

“Pay her the fucking money back or I'll be down your office in an hour with the police.” Ella stared, River listened to the response. “I don't give a shit how long it's supposed to take, it's taken long enough.” There was silence again while he waited, tapping his long fingers on her desk. She watched his hand, not daring to look up at him. “Thank you.” He handed her the phone. “Check your account,” he left the call connected while Ella opened her banking app. Her jaw dropped, confirming the payment had been received. He took the phone back again, “That's come through. See how easy it was? Don't let it happen again.” When he passed her the phone again, she flinched. “Sorry, I shouldn't have interfered.”

“It's fine. Thank you.”

“You should go and get the cash out, hang on to it.” Ella frowned. Her new cash is king world was still taking some adjustment. She'd been so used to waving a platinum credit card, her phone, her watch, at a pin machine. She was amazed at how quickly she'd become frugal. The watch and her latest model phone - traded in for a basic handset - had been sold to buy a bed.

“Yeah, you're probably right.” She sighed heavily, an odd feeling settling in her chest that she couldn't quite place. Relief. For the first time in months she felt relieved. 

 

She didn't abandon her vigilance entirely, but between telling Lamb and Cartwright - a duo she never envisaged being remotely trustworthy - the bare minimum, she relaxed enough to be able to sleep at night. She ensured that her private life remained completely private. No one but Lamb knew of her ex, and no one else other than Lamb and Cartwright knew about Clover, and she intended to keep it that way. But she found herself drawn to swapping book recommendations with Catherine, and even the constant arguments between Marcus and Shirley occasionally raised a smile. And then of course, there was Lamb. 

“Turnock’s fucking teacakes?”

“They were out of jaffa cakes.”

“And you see me eatin’ marshmallow do ya?”

“Don’t turn your nose up. What’s the suitable alternative?”

“I dunno Cole, use your brain. Knew I shouldn't have told you you had half an extra brain cell than the others.”

“Hobnobs. Shall I get you some hobnobs?”

“Fucking hobnobs,” Lamb grumbled, pouring a scotch from the fresh bottle he pulled out from the bag. “Least you got the scotch.”

“As if I'd leave you hanging there.” Ella put her hand on the box of teacakes, intent on taking them back downstairs to have one with a cup of tea.

“Leave the teacakes.” He eyed her though the bottom of the glass.

“Thought so.”

“Jaffa cakes tomorrow or you’re out of here. Got it?”

“Jaffa cakes tomorrow.” She agreed. He ripped open the box.

“Oi here y’are.” She caught the airborne red and silver wrapped teacake he threw at her and beamed.

“Cheers, Lamb.”

“Off you fuck, work to do.” Ella slipped through his office door and gave Catherine a wave on her way down the stairs. She managed to find two reasonably clean mugs and made tea, popping one on the desk next to hers and one on her own desk. Headphones on, she unwrapped the chocolate covered marshmallow and took a bite.

“Bit early isn’t it?” 

“Cartwright, there is no early when chocolate is involved.” She dragged off the headset and let it hang around her neck.

“Did you get me one?” 

“Nope.” 

“So that’s how it is?”

“I made you tea.” She popped the last bite into her mouth and nodded at his desk. Next to the mug of tea was a packet of hobnobs. He smiled, small, but a smile nonetheless.

“Thanks, Cole. Still sucking up to Lamb?”

“It’s not sucking up, he actually likes me. You’ll never know what that feels like.” She put her hand to her heart and pouted. “Sucks to be you.”

“See all you've done there is lure yourself into a false sense of security,” he opened the packet and snapped a biscuit in half, dunking it in the tea, “he doesn’t like anyone.” Catherine made her way through the maze of offices with a pile of files. 

“Morning you two. Thank you for the book, Ella, very enjoyable. These are tax returns from the early 90s relating to the Havilland job.”

“Love a dodgy tax return,” Ella gratefully received her half. “I'll bring you the next in the series if you like?”

“Lovely, I've passed the first one onto Louisa.”

“That's great, I told her she'd love it.” Ella smiled. River frowned. 

“Since when is anyone actually nice to each other around here?” He muttered holding the second half of his biscuit in the tea for a fraction too long. It broke off with a solemn plop into the liquid. “Bollocks.” Since Lamb had taken a chance, Ella thought to herself. Since she'd allowed herself to feel the tiniest modicum of joy that she'd managed to escape from hell and had survived. It was far better than the self-flagellation she'd gone for originally, there might be a mountain to climb but she had to celebrate the achievement of making it to base camp. That evening, come 5pm, there was a mass exodus from Slough House and after six shit months and one less shit, almost verging on normal month, Ella felt able to actually smile at her colleagues as they departed. She walked down the slippery stairs with River, into the evening rain. 

“See you Monday,” she said, opening her umbrella. He was looking past her at the bus stop. “Oi, dickhead, see you Monday?”

“Yeah, Monday.” His brow furrowed as he looked not quite at her, his attention still on the bus stop.

“Cartwright?”

“Do you need a lift to the school? It's pissing down.”

“No thanks, I'll live. You're going to the pub with Louisa anyway.”

“You should come next time.” He said, finally looking directly at her. 

“We'll see. I should go.” 

“Have a good one.”

“You too.” He watched her leave, walking in the opposite direction of the bus stop where the figure he'd been watching had vanished. 

Chapter 2