#plumbing van

[inthecityofgoodabode]

February 2023: Out & About

Seen while walking: 

Back at the house: 

[hell0mega]

people are drawing Steamboat Willie Mickey doing all this crazy shit and whatnot, but you could always do that. you can do that now, with current Mickey, just fine. it's fanart and it's legally protected. hell you could take Disney-drawn Mickey and put a caption about unions or whatever on it and it would still be protected under free speech and sometimes even parody law.

what is special about public domain is that you can SELL him. you could take a screenshot and sell it on a tshirt. you can use him to advertise your plumbing business. people have already uploaded and monetized the original film.

you could always have Mickey say what you want, but now you can profit off it.

[shit-people-probably-didnt-say]

Wylan: If you wake me up out of my precious sleep I am not liable for anything that comes out of my mouth

[caterwaulingprincess]

[victorluvsalice]

Welcome back to the Chill Valicer Save, where – after introducing new member Marm L. Iser the Servo to the family last update – we get to see how Marm is fitting in on the farm and helping out at the store! How did things go for him and the rest of the fam this fine Fall Wednesday? Well –

-->I started with Victor and Alice in bed and Smiler and Marm watching romantic TV together (though if this stirred any feelings between creator and creation, they didn't act upon them). I decided to check on Marm’s enhancement status while they were both chilling, and upon learning he could indeed be enhanced, had Smiler upgrade him so he’d charge a bit faster going forward. Nice! Marm then got to recharging on the couch (apparently robots can take naps, who knew?) while Smiler lectured Surprise on scratching the furniture (Surprise, in a typical cat move, pretended to have no idea what they were talking about) before heading out to the porch to ask Shadow, sadly chewing on her ball, what was wrong. Turns out Shadow was feeling down and needed hugs and treats – Smiler was only too happy to provide, along with a brushing. :) I then had them feed Toothy before heading down into the barn basement to make some strawberry nectar – I mean, they were feeling flirty anyway, so why not? I don’t think it had any effect on the final product, of course, but it feels like it should have. :p

-->While that was going on, Victor and Alice both woke up around 3 AM – I immediately put Victor on “upgrading the tub in the black-and-yellow bathroom” duty, since he had a want to increase his Handiness (and in fact was very close to maxing it). Had him give it a water recycler (using eco parts, of course), pulsating jets, soothing jets, and a self-cleaning coating. I mean, he did all that for the shower, might as well do the same for the tub! Alice, for her part, talked to Snappy the Sixam Mosquito Trap for a bit (it was a want), then got back to working on her book. In Smiler’s room, because of course she did – never mind that I clicked on HER computer in HER and Victor’s room. *sigh* I really should lock the various computers to their owners, shouldn’t I?

Anyway, while Victor and Alice were thus occupied, Smiler finished their nectar and put it in storage (the vitality and potato nectar Victor found in the prairie grass the other day also made it in there), then went upstairs to stand by the robotics bench so I could sort out the pictures in their and Alice’s inventories and pick my favorites from the recent family reunion to put up. The best two of Alice’s pictures of the group and Marm himself, along with one of Smiler and Marm’s selfies, went into the free “column of three pictures” frames they got from the reunion and hung up near the robotics station, while another Smiler-and-Marm selfie went up in Smiler’s room, on the side wall between the windows (over their yoga mat). :) So now Marm has a presence on the walls of the house, nice. Though, while I was doing all that, I noticed there was a Potion of the Nimble Mind in the household inventory for some reason –

-->And then looked in the barn basement and realized that Victor’s potion display was missing a cube! >.< Yeah, back when I did the small house renovation and jazzed up the basement, I had trouble getting that top left corner display case to slot in, but I didn’t expect it to just POP OFF THE WALL! (If you’re wondering what happened to the shelf itself, I am pretty sure I recycled it by accident.) Even more annoying, I was actually able to move the display right below it up into that slot no problem, then add in a new case into the vacated spot. *shakehead* These snap-together shelves sometimes, man. At least I was able to fix the display!

-->With pictures sorted and Victor, Alice, and Marm all occupied, I had Smiler head into the greenhouse to clean up some cursed objects there (a slime monster and a creepy doll), then had them clean Moory’s shed (which really needed it) while making the recently-awakened Marm clean the chicken coop instead of watching Politi-Sim (trust me, Marm, you don’t wanna watch politics). Smiler then pulled the recyclable trash out of the bin, before returning to the greenhouse to drop off Elmer and Bugs the gardening bots and put them to work! Because we hadn’t used the little bots in a while, and judging by the state of the greenhouse, Victor was going to need the help. XD

-->Speaking of Victor, by this point he’d finished all the tub upgrades (without maxing out his Handiness, boo) – he went and had a little chat with Alice as she finished off her book, then showed a little love to Shadow before heading downstairs to finish off the last of the banana split waffles while I had Alice clean up some of the dirty plates around the place. And as for Marm – well, having FINALLY gotten around to the front of the house to throw away the chicken poop, he decided he wanted to play with the cowplant. I allowed this, but I first made him turn on hover mode so he’d move quicker. Because a walking Servo walks VERY SLOWLY, I have discovered. *grimace* Like, EA, seriously, what the hell is the deal with THAT?? *sigh* This is why I stick to occults like vampires and spellcasters...

[noelledeltarune]

i understand where people are coming from when they say spike was shitty to luigi but like i'm gonna be real i do not think he was a bad boss to luigi specifically 💀 i feel like people are ignoring how much more of a dick he was to mario than luigi honestly like i dont think they both quit solely because of how he treated luigi

[jamesvince9898]

Your Trusted Plumbing Experts: Sewer Inspection and Emergency Plumbing Services in San Fernando Valley and Van Nuys

Introduction When plumbing problems arise, they often come without warning, causing inconvenience, damage, and stress. That’s where New Flow Plumbing Inc. steps in, providing reliable and efficient plumbing services to the residents of San Fernando Valley and Van Nuys. Specializing in sewer inspections and emergency plumbing solutions, we are dedicated to keeping your plumbing system in top condition and giving you peace of mind. Whether you’re dealing with a sudden plumbing issue or require a thorough inspection of your sewer lines, our team of experienced professionals is ready to help at a moment's notice.

Why Choose New Flow Plumbing Inc.?

1. Comprehensive Sewer Inspection in San Fernando Valley A healthy plumbing system starts with well-maintained sewer lines. At New Flow Plumbing Inc., we offer thorough sewer inspections in San Fernando Valley using advanced camera technology to identify any issues such as blockages, leaks, or tree root invasions. Our state-of-the-art equipment allows us to pinpoint the exact location and nature of the problem, providing you with a clear understanding of the situation and an accurate estimate for repairs.

Regular sewer inspections are essential for homeowners and businesses alike, especially in the San Fernando Valley, where aging infrastructure can lead to frequent plumbing problems. Our experienced technicians will assess the condition of your pipes, detect early signs of damage, and recommend the most effective solutions to prevent costly repairs in the future.

2. Swift Emergency Plumbing Services in San Fernando Valley and Van Nuys Plumbing emergencies can happen at any time, and when they do, you need a dependable plumber who can respond quickly and efficiently. At New Flow Plumbing Inc., we specialize in emergency plumbing in San Fernando Valley and Van Nuys, providing prompt, professional service when you need it most. Whether it's a burst pipe, overflowing toilet, or a sudden water heater failure, our team is available 24/7 to handle any plumbing emergency.

Our licensed plumbers arrive fully equipped to diagnose and fix the issue on the spot, minimizing damage to your property and restoring your peace of mind. We understand the urgency of plumbing emergencies, and our rapid response times ensure that your plumbing problems are resolved quickly and effectively.

Our Range of Services

1. Sewer Line Cleaning and Repair Sewer line issues can lead to unpleasant odors, slow drainage, and even property damage. We provide expert sewer line cleaning and repair services to address these problems. Our team uses high-pressure water jetting and other advanced methods to remove stubborn clogs and debris from your sewer lines, ensuring smooth and efficient drainage.

If we detect more serious damage during our sewer inspection in San Fernando Valley, such as cracks or collapses, we offer a range of repair options, from trenchless pipe relining to traditional excavation, to restore your sewer system's integrity.

2. Drain Cleaning Services Clogged drains can be a major nuisance, causing water backups and potential damage to your plumbing system. Our professional drain cleaning services in the San Fernando Valley and Van Nuys utilize the latest technology to clear even the toughest blockages. We use eco-friendly, safe methods that protect your pipes while ensuring maximum effectiveness.

Whether you’re dealing with a slow kitchen sink, a blocked shower drain, or a more complex issue, our team has the expertise to handle it all. Regular drain cleaning can prevent future problems and help maintain a healthy plumbing system, saving you time and money in the long run.

3. Emergency Water Heater Repair and Replacement A malfunctioning water heater can disrupt your daily routine and leave you without hot water when you need it most. Our emergency plumbing services in San Fernando Valley and Van Nuys include rapid response for water heater repair and replacement. We service all types and brands of water heaters, from traditional tank units to modern tankless models.

Our technicians will diagnose the problem, provide you with a comprehensive solution, and perform the necessary repairs or replacement promptly. We prioritize your comfort and convenience, ensuring that your hot water is restored as quickly as possible.

The Importance of Regular Sewer Inspections

1. Preventing Major Plumbing Disasters Regular sewer inspections in San Fernando Valley can help prevent major plumbing disasters by identifying potential issues before they escalate. Small cracks or blockages can quickly become serious problems if left untreated, leading to expensive repairs or replacements. By scheduling regular sewer inspections with New Flow Plumbing Inc., you can protect your property and avoid the stress and cost of emergency repairs.

2. Enhancing Property Value For homeowners looking to sell, a well-maintained plumbing system can significantly enhance property value. A documented history of regular sewer inspections and maintenance demonstrates to potential buyers that your home has been well cared for, potentially speeding up the sales process and securing a better price.

3. Complying with Local Regulations In some areas, sewer inspections are required by local regulations, especially during property sales or major renovations. Our team at New Flow Plumbing Inc. is well-versed in local codes and standards, ensuring that your property remains compliant and your inspections are thorough and accurate.

Why Our Emergency Plumbing Services Stand Out

1. Fast and Reliable Response In a plumbing emergency, time is of the essence. Our team is always on standby, ready to respond to your call and provide immediate assistance. We understand that emergencies can be stressful, which is why we prioritize a swift, efficient response to minimize damage and disruption.

2. Expertise and Experience Our plumbers are highly trained professionals with years of experience handling a wide range of plumbing emergencies. Whether it’s a burst pipe, a sewer backup, or an overflowing toilet, we have the knowledge and skills to resolve the issue quickly and effectively.

3. Transparent Pricing We believe in transparency and honesty with our customers. When you call New Flow Plumbing Inc. for emergency plumbing in San Fernando Valley or Van Nuys, you can expect upfront pricing with no hidden fees. We provide a detailed estimate before any work begins, so you know exactly what to expect.

Conclusion

When it comes to reliable plumbing services in San Fernando Valley and Van Nuys, New Flow Plumbing Inc. is your go-to provider for expert sewer inspections and prompt emergency plumbing services. With a commitment to excellence, advanced technology, and a team of skilled professionals, we ensure that your plumbing issues are resolved quickly and efficiently. Protect your home from costly plumbing disasters with regular inspections, and rest easy knowing that our emergency services are just a phone call away. Trust New Flow Plumbing Inc. for all your plumbing needs and experience the difference of working with the best in the business.

[is-this-fascism]

My plan to escape homelessness. I need your help to get started before winter!

hello friends! i'm a homeless queer guy living in a tiny car. it's been like this for most of my adult life, and i'm trying to make a change! I want to convert a van into my new home! my plan involves these stages:

Stage 1: acquire a van.

while still living off donations in my car, i'm fundraising. as soon as i can afford one, i'll purchase a van. the market shows most used vans that would be suitable are around $3.5-4.5k give or take. we're already about halfway there!

I'm really hoping this stage can be complete before november, as my car is not suited to survive another winter and it could be devastating to attempt it.

Stage 2: survive winter

since winter is approaching, i'll need to quickly put insulated walls in the van and make sure i can live in it. at this point, it'll already be an upgrade to my car, but i won't be able to do much building in cold weather, so it'll just be the bare minimum i need to survive the winter.

during this time, i'll be taking measurements, drawing plans, researching appliances, and generally preparing for the build process. i'll continue fundraising to make sure i can afford all the materials and tools i'll need. i may also take care of any maintenence the van might need. i'll also clean and sell my car so i have some cash from that as well.

Stage 3: build my home!

when it gets warm enough, i'll start doing the actual build. i'll document this on video as much as i can, and post the process on my youtube channel for not only the people who helped me, but for anyone who's curious. i'll start with solar panels and an electricity system, i'll add countertops and kitchen appliances, a shower and sink with plumbing and warm water, a toilet, a real bed, lights, climate control. it'll be essentially a house on wheels, and just the right size for me!

Stage 4: whatever comes next

once i have my new home, i'll need an income. i may take a regular job to support myself at first, and that will actually be possible when i have a shower. but, i've been considering making content pretty much my whole life, and now i think i have a great chance to actually pursue that. i'll use some of the money from selling my car in stage 2 to get some basic equipment (laptop, mic, camera). i'll be posting my van build at first, and after that i'll probably start by telling stories about my time being homeless, but i'm also interested in streaming and video essays. thanks to all the generous support i've been getting from my followers and other people on the internet, i feel my opportunities are wide open!

Please consider donating to my fundraiser to help me change my life!

GFM

2115/10k

[whore-ibly-hot]

"1-800-HANDY-YAN"

Yandere!Handymen (Tucker and Billy) x Fem!Reader

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Oral sex, yandere behavior, Dub-con, perverted thoughts, misogynistic comments (mostly tucker), class economic divide? Spying, obsession, stalking, double trouble yanderes, mention of female genitalia and breasts on reader

A/N: Yeah, maybe this is eight hundred weeks late, I got super motivated then super not. But trust me, this piece is 👌

Metal tools clink together, the sound of screws and the occasional drip of left over water fills up the space beneath the sink as Tucker works on the clogged drain.

"Wrench." He sticks his hand out of the cabinet and extends his fingers while his mullet-haired friend whose sat just outside. Bill hands him the wrench, sighing as he cranes his head to see around the doorframe and into the living room of this nice suburban home.

"Alright, gimme the bolt." The skinny wife-beater clad handyman asks his broad set and chubby friend. After a few moments, he calls again. "Bill, bolt. Cmon," He groans as he slides out from the sink cabinet and look at his distracted coworker. Smacking him upside the shoulder he shakes his head. "Get your fuckin' head outta the clouds, or I'll have your fatass get stuck up under this sink tugging on the hair and shit in here." He grumbles. "What the hell are you even-" He leans forward against the tile to see forward at what's captured Bill's attention, and then sighs.

"Stop looking at the homeowner if you ain't gonna do anything, Billy. You've got a limp dick crush on her, why won't you do anything about it, huh?" He nudges his friend. "She's always calling us for little home repairs, and she never has anyone over. I mean, her beds always made too." He whistles lowly as he sees you watching the TV in the living room, eyes raking over your tits and ass as he bites his lip back a bit.

"What does her bed have anything to do with whether or not she's got a fella?" Bill asks weakly, and Tucker rolls his eyes.

"Please, no one is ever here, and her bed isn't made. She's not exactly getting rolled around and pounded in it, is she? Shit, I dont even remake my bed after I jerk it."

Bill shushes him and shoots a panicked look back towards you. "She could hear you, just... don't talk about her like that. She's trusting us to be good to her house and to, uh, to her."

"Well-" As Tucker finishes up with the drain and reattaches the pipe, flipping the sink water back on and letting it run for a minute, he pulls out of the counter. "Why don't we let her know the jobs done, yeah?"

Walking into the living room, Bill has always tended to be quiet around you. You'd seen the scruffy men around the suburb you live in before, they appeared to be everything men. They work on plumbing, fix lights and wiring, mow lawns, and they got good reviews from your neighbors. It's obvious they don't really fit in in the neighborhood. The men are scruffy, usually in dirty clothes with unkempt beards and a beaten up old van. They're from the poor end of town, a rather rough trailer park. They are treated as useful workers, but poor company by your wealthy neighbors. Still, they've been nothing but nice to you, sweet even.

"Hey guys, is the sink fixed up?" You ask, perking up from your spot on the couch and casting aside the tv remote.

"Sure thing, jobs all done." Tucker sniffs, rubbing at his chin and putting a hand on his hip. "We figured it was a super quick job, so Bill suggested we give you half off since it didn't take the full hour." He nudges his friend, who seems shocked at his attempt to get you to speak to him.

"Y-yeah." He mumbles out, swallowing harshly. "Didn't want to charge you for anything extra." He explains quietly.

"Thank you guys, that's so sweet, but you dont have to do that." You sigh and out your hand on your hip. "Well, let me go grab the money I owe you." While you get up, Tucker makes himself cozy on the couch, spreading out like hes always lived here.

"So, missy. We've helped you out quite a bit, fixed things here and there, haven't seen a fella around." He says. "Surely you'd have an easier time fixing this stuff with a more permanent solution."

"Knock it off-" Bill spits under his breath, but his friend just smile mischeviously and sinks deeper into the fabric.

"Yeah, I just haven't met a guy I'm interested in." You explain, talking over your shoulder as you get the money from your bag. "Or any guys whove been interested in me."

"That can't be true-" Bill starts, his sudden outburst makes the attention in the room focused on him. "I just mean, you seem like a real nice lady, sweet." He explains, hands fiddling with the edge of his flannel top.

"That's really sweet, thank you, Bill." You tilt your head with a soft smile and he just nods in acknowledgement, blushing a bit. "What about you guys? You two have anyone special?"

Tucker clicks his tongue and shakes his head. "Hell naw, it's a bachelor pad in our trailer. I mean, we bring girls back sometimes, but you know-" he shrugs. "Bill's kinda hopeless with the ladies, and I'm never satisfied." He winks.

Sitting up, he puts his hands on his knees. "You know, you're a real nice gal, I mean, most people won't even look at us while we work, to busy keeping an eye on stuff and making sure we don't steal. So nice in fact, my friend here's got kind of a crush on ya."

Your eyes widen as your head quickly swivels to the now sheet-white Bill, his hands out in front of him as if to show he means no harm. "N-nah, it's not like, not like that!" He exclaims, looking mortified. "Please, Tucker's talking outta his ass, don't listen to him. Really, I have nothing but professional feelings for you." He says. Hes removed his hat from his head and holds it to his chest, both as a nervous movement and a stress fidget.

"He's lying. Everytime we come here to work, I practically bruise his arm trying to get his attention. He just sits and gawks. I'm being a good friend, telling him to man up."

You set aside your wallet as you slowly approach him, every step feels heavy as you walk up to the broad-shouldered gentle giant. "Is that true, Bill?" You ask. "Do you... are you really interested in me?"

He sighs deeply, refusing to meet your gaze. "I do. I'm sorry, I tried to keep things professional, and respect your boundaries." He begins to ramble as you smile a bit. "I mean, I-I support women and their safety, I know you put a Lotta trust in lettin' us into your home. I'm a feminine!"

"Feminist, stupid." Tucker snickers, and you shoot a warning glance at him. He puts his hands up.

"Its alright, Bill. You've been nothing but sweet and respectful to me, and you guys always come when I call." Crossing your arms, you rub just above your elbow. "Its been hard adjusting to the neighbordhood, people are kinda stuck up or unkind, but you're both so real. And sweet, and-"

"Extremely sexy, right?" Tucker coos, slinging a boney arm around your shoulder. Bill seems shocked at his friend sudden physical contact with you, a boundary he's never dared cross. "She's offering you a compliment, Bill. Come on, return it. Tell her all the nice things we've said about her, like how she's got a great rack." His scratch stubble rubs your cheek a bit from where he's stood behind you. "You really do have a great pair."

"I never agreed with what he was saying, I would never, um- talk about a girl like that, my momma would be so upset with me. Tucker was the one sayin' all that dirty stuff about you." Bill explains. "I would just say you looked prettier than a peach' and he'd make it all gross."

"So..." You grin a bit as your eyes slowly trail over his body and up to meet his gaze. He's trying hard to avoid yours. "You don't like the way my tits look?"

A wild, toothy grin flashes across Tucker's face, he knows where this is heading, and his friends reaction is even more amusing.

"No, I- I do. They look, they look great. Round..."

"Round? What the fuck is wrong with you, that's how you describe her girls?" Tucker shakes his head and turns back to you, his mouth close to your ear so he could whisper in. "Tell you what, before Billy-boy says something that dries out your puss, why don't we take this up to your room? I have the advantage of knowing the way." He ever so slightly grind the front of his jeans to your ass, the growing erection obvious. "Cmon baby, we're handymen, let me clean those pipes."

You immediately cackle and lean forward, gripping your stomach. Tucker looks confused and offended as he puts a hand on his hip. "Sorry!" You exclaim, still laughing. "Sorry, that was just such a stupid line, I'm sorry."

"It wasn't stupid, it was sexy." Tucker scoffs. "Really fucking sexy, you know how many panties get dropped at bars because of 'stupid' lines like that. Don't dance around it, if you don't wanna bone just tell me." You perk up at that, seeing a rare moment of insecurity in Tucker's face. Face flushed, he seems embarrassed, actually wounded. Bill moves to stand a little closer to him, trying to put a hand on his shoulder before it's swatted away with a quiet 'fuck you, don't touch me'.

"No, I... I do. I do, you're both attractive and I haven't had anyone in a long time. You've always been good to me, but I-" You sigh. "I dont know if I can be what you want? I'm not exactly a freak in bed, and I've never been with two guys before." You begin.

Excitement reunited, but still softened by that moment of vulnerability, Bill speaks up for once. "You're perfect." He says, steadying himself. "Really, you don't have to be experienced or nothing, I'm a big clutz but trying your best is what matters. And we'd go as slow or as gentle as you wanted. And as for two guys-" He sighs and swallows harshly. "If you just wanna do it with Tuck, I'll wait he-"

"No, no, it's not that at all. I'm getting caught in my head, I want this." You hold out a hand brush over his flannel shirt buttons, fiddling with one. "I want you. Both of you, as appreciation for how hard you've worked." Looking over at Tucker, you smile. "You seem the most eager to get started, why don't you lead? I imagine you know what you're doing."

"Damn right I do, sexy mama." He gropes your waist as he plants a feverish kiss on your neck. "Glad you're finally giving some attention to lil' ol' me. Go upstairs and get all pretty, lay that pretty body out on your bed while me and Bill pack up and grab a couple rubbers from the truck."

You quickly summit the stairs, and make the most of your time by stripping down to a simple pair of underwear, you didn't figure they needed to be impressed with any lingerie, and you could see Tucker getting annoyed and ripping one of your nicer sets when it came to untying ribbons. Sitting on the bed now, you can see them through the window loading up their. They seem to be loudly arguing about something, and you can't help but laugh. Eventually, Bill comes up.

"Sorry, we forgot we had another job on the docket, I didn't wanna cancel but Tuck is being a real hard ass about all-" He stops when he sees you, in nothing but panties, sat on the bed with a slight smile. You're skin all soft and bare, pretty lights outside dimming as it grows closer from evening to night. "Geez, um, you look beautiful." He mumbles, closing the door behind him.

You tuck your knees under your chin and look at him. "Thanks, that's so sweet. So, you guys are gonna stick around, right?"

Snapping out of his, Bill clears his throat and nods. "Yeah, yeah, Tucker's on a call out there rescheduling." He taps his foot nervously.

"Well, get cozy. Cmon, take off your boots and hat, I'm sure you're tired from working." He obeys quickly, eager to please. He stops after removing his hat though, and you furrow your brows. "Its gonna be hard for us to have sex if the rest doesn't come off too, silly." You tease, but his slightly sad demeanor gives you pause. "Whats wrong?"

"I just, I don't really know if you'll like what you see. Most people think of handymen and folk as all muscular, and I've got some muscle, but I'm not really anyone bodybuilder by any means. And I'm not skinny like Tuck, I'm-" His head fully tilts to the floor. "I'm a big guy. I don't want that to bother you."

You immediately shake your head and move to the edge of the bed, holding out a hand. He shyly takes it in his own, and you run a comforting thumb over it. "Nothing is wrong with that, Bill. I think you look plenty handsome, you look soft, and sweet. And everyone has some pudge." You put his hand on your stomach. "See, I've got a bit of a tummy, and sometimes I don't like my legs, but do you think that makes me less attractive?" You ask.

"I don't think anything could make you not look pretty." He admits, moving his hand to your shoulder.

"I'll undress you, how about that?" He offers no resistance, so you slowly undo his flannel shirt, eyes trailing hungrily over his hair chest and slightly pudgy stomach. "Very handsome." You kiss his collarbone and he sighs. He works on getting his jeans and belt off, before sitting beside you on the bed.

"Can I touch ya? I mean, feel up on your chest and stuff?" He asks. When you nod, his large, callous hands come to rest over your breasts, extremely gentle in their movements. "They're gorgeous, really. And I meant what I said, as much as I love the way you look, and how kind you are, I never said no dirty things about you. It was all Tucker, he' a horn-dog."

"Some men are like that, unfortunately. Hes lucky I think it's flattering when it's him." You chuckle, making Billy laughs as well as he continues groping, a little more confident as he tweaks at a pebbled nipple.

"He's always been a jackass, but he's just trying to seem tough. He really likes you." Bill begins to explain. "Tucker isn't nearly as upfront with his feelins' as I am, but I can't tell he likes you. He don't always stick to making dirty jokes about one girl, but you've been all the talks about lately. And he always beats me to the phone for work now, he used to always make me answer, but I know he's hopin' you'll call." He's clearly packing, and the sight of his erection makes your mouth water in anticipation.

"Hey, Tell you what. Tucker might be a bit, and I'm sure he'll want to be inside me the moment he gets through the door-" Bill laughs at that. "So why don't we get you feeling good first so he can have a go." Sliding off the bed, you put a cheek on his knees, hand on his hairy inner thigh as he swallows.

"Geez, you can do that, b-but only if ya wanna. I lost the remote one day, and they had this talk show with all these ladies in-in suits, and they said that blowjobs were demeaning-"

Ignoring his continuous, (if not sweet), ramblings, you tug at his boxers until his thick, leaky cock springs loose. "Shit, nearly took my eye out." You say, trying to lighten the mood. He's thick, a bright red tip and a firm base. His balls are large, but he did admit he was backed up. He's absolutely huge, you have to admit you're worried he's a choking hazard.

"I'm gonna start slow, yeah? Just kiss the tip?" You ask, and the flushed redneck just nods his head, eyes wide as he's looking down at you. You place a soft kiss on the leaking tip, making him suck in a breath as you slowly take it into your mouth to the back of your tongue. What you can't fit in, you work with your hand.

"Shit, am I too big?!" He asks when he hears you making a sloppy gag, but you gently squeeze his thigh to calm him. You just want this poor big man to relax. Humming a bit, the lights vibration seems to soothe him. "Feels, god, your mouth feels really good, missy." His hands grip the pretty floral sheets of the bed which he had admired so many time when working on your house. "You're so pretty, um, with me in your mouth, but also- I mean, you're pretty all the time, ah~"

He can't decide what's actually getting him closer to climax, actually getting his cock sucked, or just seeing you on the floor in front of him, so lovingly tending to him. Each movement is deliberate, and to feel like you care so much to do this, and act which the educated women on the tv said was degrading, means you must really care. He threads a shakey hand in your scalp, but not to tug or push, but rather to gently pet at your scalp. He lets out a groan which ends high pitched, adjacent to a whimper.

"So pretty. You're so pretty, m' lucky. Lucky you wanna... lucky you are making me feel good, s-shit." You can feel his length twitching in your mouth. "I'm gonna finish, I know it's early, sorry, m' sorry, I gotta finish. Pull me out, can I-" he rambling. "Can I finish on your chest, or I can go finish off in the toilet, or-" You just give him one last good suck, and with a swirl of your tongue you can feel a thick, warm substance filling your mouth. "Shit! Why didn't you, I didn't mean to, uhh~ fuck..."

When you pull off, making a shoe of swallowing, you might as well have taken a puritan to a strip club. Bill looks as if it's the most scandalous thing he's ever seen. Petting his limp cock slightly with your palm, you lean your head on his knee. "Was that good for you?" You ask, and he nods.

He's clearly speechless, and can't bring himself to say much about how good he feels. "It was good." He mumbles out. Biting your lip, you sit by him on the bed, hoisting yourself up. Now, it's your turn to feel unsure.

"Are you sure? You don't seem confident about that." You mumble, hand rubbing your arm. "I haven't given one of those in a long, long time. I'm sorry if it wasn't good. Was it cause you couldn't cum on my chest, I-"

"No, no!" He exclaims. "No, it was perfect, I'm just tired. 'Tuckered' out." He jokes, then clears his throat. "That was dumb. But, that was amazing, really, m' just not good at fancy words n' stuff." Taking a deep breath, he rather boldly puts a hand on your cheek. "Can I kiss ya? I mean, least I could do. I wanna show you really how pretty and nice I think you are, and that feels more proper than getting down there and kissing you on your-" He trails off, flushing again. "Unless you'd like that, I'd do it. It's the least I could mmph-!"

You press your lips to his, and as soon as he stops tensing you feel a large, calloused hand cup your cheek, practically palming your head. He's so gentle, as if afraid to break you. When you eventually break for air, he almost chases your lips. "I-"

"What the fuck!" Tucker stands in the doorway, hands on his toolbelt and hat turned back. "I take one call and yer' already all limp dicked? Shit, Billy, horny little fucker."

"Leave him alone, Tucker." You tease, leaning on Bill's shoulder momentarily. "I offered it to him. Don't listen to him, you were great."

Billy just shyly smiles and kisses your head once more as Tucker dumps his toolbelt and wifebeater at the door. "You already got yer dick wet, Billy, so clear the fuck out. I'd let you watch, but you were a slippery snake and slipped her yer fucking snake when I was going first, so git." Tucker orders as he flops unceremoniously onto your bed and crawls up towards you. You blow a kiss to Billy as he smiles and shuts the door, hearing Tucker mumbling some stupid line about 'cleaning your pipes'.

A few minutes later though, he's ashamed. He knows he shouldn't be doing this, it's dirty. Wrong. But as he sits in your bathroom, wiring up a little camera identical to the ones now in your kitchen and closet, he can't help but remember what Tucker had told him, just before he went out to make that phone call.

"She's gonna let us fuck her, she's okay with us seeing everything in person! If anything, a cameras less invasive. Shit, just set em' up, yeah? We know this neighborhoods full of rich assholes, and her locks are shit. Think of it as keeping that hot little piece of suburbanite ass safe."

[shotmrmiller]

Toni... Blue collar worker simon....

i'm thinking of a plumber simon who doesn't (but can, obviously) fix toilets and whatnot. no, he usually installs plumbing systems in homes that are currently being built and he can do gas pipes too.

simon owning a van that has a bunch of long PVC pipes on top is making my head spin for no reason.

anyway, he gets up real early in the morning, depending on how far the job is he could be up as early as 4 am, packs his cooler for lunch which consists of sandwiches, a can or two of soda, two water bottles and a bag of spicy sunflower seeds. his lunch is shit because a lady tend to pass by in her food truck to sell the guys a proper lunch (they taste like simple home cooked meals) and its relatively cheap.

he buys lunch more often than not because of you, the lady's daughter and you're the prettiest little finch he's ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on.

you're a shy thing too, mumbling back a hello when he tosses you a greeting while waiting for his lunch to be warmed up. he likes when your eyebrow twitches every time he waits until the last possible second to ask for a drink to wash down his food.

a pest, truly.

(if only you'd give him a chance, you wouldn't have to be in that truck slaving away in the heat when he could keep you nice and comfortable at home with the ac as low as you like)

[maiiuelle]

˚❀˚

as we all know, jj is not a fan of cops. so, you can imagine how angry he’d be getting a call that you’re locked up.

it's sort of a game of telephone actually. you called kiara from the jail, pleading with her not to tell jj knowing how he'd react. but, with her parents grounding her from any more involvement in pogue business, she didn't really have a choice. so, she told pope, who immediately told jj.

luckily, your offense wasn't serious, you'd been having a bad day already and decided to go on an innocent bike ride. jj was kind enough to have slipped a joint into your backpack for an occasion like this, which you happily lit up to get your mind off of everything. your mistake was riding through the rich side of the island, some kook must've seen you and called the station to complain about who-knows-what, and the smell of weed sticking to your skin made it easier for shoupe to find you. you complied, letting him haul you in the back of his cruiser while he lectured you about drug possession and public intoxication. must be a slow day.

now you're sat in the lobby of the police station, hands bound together in metal cuffs, resting in your lap. you're barely high anymore, the light feeling in your head replaced by irritation. you hear jj before you see him, and the sound of his booming voice makes your heart sink.

"where d'ya even have her? huh, plumb?" you squeeze your eyes shut, the heat of his anger growing closer and closer.

"you need to relax, maybank." she hisses, rounding the corner before him and stopping at the sight of you. she crosses her arms, almost amused. "she's right here."

your blonde boyfriend stomps in after her, wide eyes searching the room before landing on you. he's disheveled, clearly having been in a rush to get here. you don't know what to do other than to stare back at him doe eyed. deputy plumb comes to your side and hoists you to stand with a hand on your arm, spinning you roughly so she can start to unlock the cuffs.

“alright—let’s make this quick.” shoupe’s voice draws everyone’s attention, a stack of papers in his hands that he offers to jj. “i’m doin’ her a favor, just a written warning.”

jj snatches the papers from him, superficially looking them over and then using them to point at the deputy. “you’re outta your mind, shoupe. i can’t believe—“

“i suggest—“ shoupe cuts him off, and jj’s jaw clenches. “—you kids get on home now. we’ve got some real work to do.”

deputy plumb lets you go, clipping the cuffs to her belt and nudging you toward jj. “and keep the dope on the cut.” you look back at her, keeping your mouth shut as you slink over to jj’s side.

“can count on kildare P.D., ain’t that right?” jj keeps his eyes on the officers, face red with anger as he adjusts his hat and starts walking toward the door. you stick close to him, feeling better attached to his side even if he’s angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “pickin’ on teenage girls — real tough, shoupe. pretty sure y’all got bigger fish to fry, maybe focus on that.”

on the way out of the station, he’s silent. he doesn’t look at you or say a word until you reach the twinkie, where john b is sitting patiently in the driver’s seat. you feel real bad now, realizing you brought everyone into this mess that you could have easily avoided. jj stops at the front of the van, and you follow suit, anxiously biting your lip.

“jayj, i really didn’t mean to cause a whole—“

“nobody’s upset, sugar. relax.” he takes a second to look you over, running his hands down your arms and scanning over your body. “didn’t rough you up in there, did they?”

you shake your head. “oh, no. i’m fine.”

“good.” he brushes your hair over your shoulder, letting his hand linger by your jaw to pull you into a kiss. “least y’got a little street cred now, huh?” his calloused thumb rubs across your cheek, and a warm smile spreads across his face. you’re relieved, in the end really grateful that your boyfriend came to save the day.

˚❀˚

[pianokantzart]

Could you maybe describe a little more in detail why you're sure that Mario has ADHD? Genuine question, I'm not that super familiar with ADHD I only know very minor stuff and I would be interested to learn more

Gladly! The thing that cemented it for me the most was the entire way he went about the plumbing business.

Big energy, big ideas, terrible at organizing things and dealing with the details. Him going forward making an expensive TV commercial while their van was still in desperate need of repairs is the most ADHD-coded nonsense I've ever seen in my life. He got so excited about one thing that another far more pressing (but far more boring) thing got pushed completely to the wayside.

Then there's the way that Luigi is put in charge of customer communications. Receiving, comprehending, and responding to multiple calls, texts, and emails in a prompt and organized manner is like pulling teeth for someone with ADHD, especially if they're unmedicated. Mario wants to be out there working with his hands! seeing new places! solving new problems and interacting face to face! Thankfully, he has his brother to help keep things organized and on schedule.

Oh, and don't even get me started on his impulsiveness...

...and his big emotions that he struggles to keep under control, with a particularly strong sensitivity to disapproval/rejection.

I'm telling you, this man absolutely has ADHD.

[taskmasterhistorian]

Via Reddit

There was a phone number under the name "SPO’Nage Plumbing" posted on the van in the "give Alex a five-word instruction in the most spy-like way" task in Series 9 Episode 9.

When you called the number on the van (the number no longer works), this audio played:

Transcript:

Alex: “Hello, there! You’re through to the Taskmaster…’s assistant, and part-time emergency plumber, Alex Horne. Unfortunately, I am currently either being punished, or in the basement, re-elasticating the Taskmaster’s swimming trunk collection. So I can’t answer your call, hang out, see my family, or have anything to eat. For any queries to do with Taskmaster or SPO’Nage Plumbing Limited, please either call back in two years time or write to your local MP. Also, er this is very important-“

Greg: “Alex!!”

Alex: “Oh no! I have to go now! Bye!”

[victorluvsalice]

And then added a BUNCH of wind turbines to the barn room to try and get some more power production going and rebuild that surplus! Mostly because I didn’t have room for more ground turbines, and I wasn’t sure how effective solar panels were going to be in Henford-On-Bagley -- it’s cloudy a LOT in this neighborhood! The addition of the roof turbines seemed to work for a little while -- at least, it stayed light enough for Smiler to get a drink from Alice and then join Victor for a jam session while she curled up for another wolfy nap. . .

And then midway through the music, the lights went out AGAIN. Cue them kind of coming on and off constantly all day. >( I thought we were past this nonsense, game! How many wind turbines do I have to hook up here?!

*sigh* Well, the power situation wasn’t about to stop them from celebrating -- after all, it was Egg Day, my Sims 4 equivalent of Easter! And they needed to get in the proper Egg Day mood. First on the agenda -- decorate the house! Smiler took care of this as usual, putting up a few springy banners on the fences and some colored icicle lights on the eaves. (Which I do believe stayed lit even with the problems with the power -- maybe they’re battery-powered lights.) Looks nice even with the horrible gloomy weather, doesn’t it?

Second on the agenda -- egg hunting! Alice was looking a little too Furious to start searching, so I sent her off for some zoomies to calm her down during a break in the weather, but Victor and Smiler were able to get right on the hunt. Smiler found a couple of decorative eggs on the porch and in the kitchen, while Victor found one decorative egg and two real eggs in the blue upstairs bathroom after having his shower. Yes, apparently if you have Cottage Living installed, you can find actual chicken eggs instead of the decorative ones! Victor got an orange one and a rainbow one. I was genuinely quite surprised -- especially I’m pretty sure he found one of those in the toilet. *pause* Maybe don’t eat that one.

[seat-safety-switch]

Many, many years ago, the Catholic church had a problem: fake Popes. In the time before the internet, any group of rich assholes could get together, grab a random dude off the street, and declare him to be the Pope. Back then, you couldn’t even call (not even landline!) the Vatican to check this maybe-Pope’s credentials, and unless he acted extremely suspiciously, it was hard not to justify giving him whatever he (and his backers) asked for. He’s the Pope! If you don’t do what he says, God will force your daughter to eat your ribs or something like that.

Sure, a lot of these anti-Popes eventually did get busted. Lots of them took advantage of the massive power that was presented to them through fraud, and eventually the patience of the locals plumb ran out. It’s a pretty big deal to have the Pope visit your shitty town, even now, and so eventually the church would find out and send a small army to kill you and your friends. Sometimes they didn’t get there in time, because local warlords decided that the Pope (you) was probably trying to invade their country and decided to grease them first, only to end up doing the real Pope a solid.

Although I’m too lazy to check Wikipedia or even call the local diocese, I’m pretty sure that a decent number of these guys did get away with it, though. Real smooth operators would have known how to deal with certain sticky situations, like meeting people who had met the Pope already and knew he wasn’t 6′3″ and constantly drunk. As long as you didn’t make too much noise, and especially if you were somewhere that didn’t receive a lot of news or couriers, you could comfortably pretend to be a low-key pontiff for as long as you wanted. Your rich buddies would become richer buddies, and you’d get to wear a big hat. Good trade, the kind of relationship that doesn’t exist with employers today.

Why am I bringing this up now, you ask? Well, you might have noticed that I’ve been working at this O’Reilly Auto Parts with you for quite some time. And I have been asking you to log into the register for me, because I keep forgetting my password. I agree that that is suspicious. However, I think if you step in the back, you can meet some folks who will definitely assure you that I am in fact the head manager of this store, and you can help them load this unmarked, plateless van with all the Holley carbs we can sneak past that security camera.

No, no, no. Not the billet valve covers, that’s too flashy. Have you not listened to a word I’ve been saying?

[lenreli]

The Linchpin

[AO3]

For A3 - Time Travel Org for @dreamlingbingo!

CW for a tiny bit of violence at the end!

T, 5.6k. Dream has something life-changing coming up, but it's not what he thinks it is.

-

Dream’s presentation is only a week away, and he may be good with internal workings and hypotheses, with insane ideas (his sister, his siblings), but it’s the speech that terrifies him the most. 

Mostly, he’s just staring at his speech in despair, at the questions and possibilities as he makes a list― 

There's a sound, a crash nearby but he doesn’t pay attention, focus on writing answers down as he thinks them, and suddenly a hand is on top of the papers, a black ring with a red gem on one of their fingers. Blinking, he looks up at the person who owns the hand in confusion. “How did you get into my house?” 

“The same way I’m gonna get out of your house, obviously,” the man answers with a smile, brown eyes crinkling and Dream’s stomach swoops, which feels pretty inadvisable as the man points out the window, “see that van?” Frowning, he stares at the plumbing van, nodding, which he’s sure has been out there for days, “the people inside it want to kill you!” The man says cheerily. 

“Kill me?!” He hisses, “what! You? Or―” 

“Whoa, hey, obviously not―” the man stops and tilts his head as he gapes, still wrapping his head around the news dropped onto him, “listen! I’m Hob, and I’m here to save you from them!” 

“Shouldn’t I―call someone, or,” he frowns, putting the speech into a bag nearby, along with his presentation and Hob sighs. 

“They won’t be able to help. Plus, it’d be easier to show you, I think,” Hob bites his lip and scratches at the greys of his temple. “Dream,” he freezes, phone in hand at the way Hob says his name, “I’m with the authority that can help you,” he says gently―then taps something on his left wrist, something like a watch. 

Which it’s not, clicks and whirs as screens come out of the watch, circling around above the device and Dream’s eyes widen as Hob fiddles with the device on his wrist, the blue screens showing a dizzying blur of images, the text somehow illegible to him but Hob can read through. “What,” he deadpans. 

“Do you―” Hob stops, device still glowing of blue screens as he huffs and takes the phone out of Dream’s hand and puts it in his bag. “No, but just,” Hob sighs once more and grabs his wrist, skin warm. “Now,” Hob barks out― 

-

They’re on a skyscraper. How is he on a skyscraper, plastic sheets hanging from beams, higher levels of it still being made, “how,” he wheezes, brain scrambling as he sits on the concrete floor underneath him. 

“Some place in the American two-thousands,” Hob mutters, sitting next to him, and Dream stares blankly at the screen of the device, Hob fiddling with the device and suddenly Dream can understand it. 18th January, 2005, the screen says, “should be good for a start.” 

“That,” he shakes his head, grabbing his bag tightly as he puts it over his head. “We traveled in time?! You’re a―” 

“Time traveler?” Hob grins and fiddles the device back to gibberish, the blue screens fading away. Dream gapes, head slowly wrapping itself around it, Hob looking at the sky and city underneath them. 

“So. The people who want to kill me,” he states, insides tingling as Hob gives him a soft look, even with the terror of the situation. 

“Also time travelers,” Hob confirms, gentle smile fading into a serious stare. “And they specifically want to kill you before you deliver that presentation,” Hob nods towards his bag. 

He stares at Hob incredulously, “what?! That’s―it’s a nothing, it’s just some useless―” 

Hands gripping his shoulders, warm compared to the cold around them, stops his mouth from continuing. “Actually, it could be the most important presentation in history, considering these people are willing to kill you before you do it,” Hob says quietly, eyes glittering a beautiful gold from the sun and Dream has got to stop thinking that, for fuck’s sake. He shivers and Hob sighs, pulling him up so they’re standing ― and fiddling with the device again, blue screen circling around as Hob ― puts in another time? “We should get out of here. Both to put more between us and them, and to get somewhere warmer.” 

Date apparently set, Hob holds onto one of his hands, callused fingers putting his hand onto Hob’s arm. 

Hob gives him a soft look, half of his face blue-tinted from the transparent screens. “Ready?” Hob asks, and he nods, expecting Hob to shout again, activating it―but this time, Hob pushes a button on the device, the blue screens slowly turning green, and it feels like his insides warp as they disappear. 

-

It takes two more time jumps, which he only calls them mentally ― and them sitting down for lunch at a Chinese restaurant in Quebec, Canada sometime in 2030, when he can finally ask, “and how would they kill me?” 

“They’re time travellers,” Hob points out over a stir-fry, “if I was going after someone and I also had time travel, I’d probably leave them in setting concrete of some building. Drop them in some massive earthquake or something,” Hob says with a shrug, then winces as Dream stares at him, eyes wide. “Sorry. But something like that.” 

“Wonderful,” he replies, tone flat and dull as his brain gives him rapid-fire worst case scenarios. “I could be killed in some famous disaster and I’d never even know.” 

“But you won’t,” Hob says, clacking his chopsticks together loudly. “Because I’m here to stop it.” 

“And why all the ― jumping?” He asks, still feeling a bit despondent as he takes a bite of fried rice. 

“To throw them off the trail really. There’s more of us around, so they’ll have to do some digging before they lock onto us, then they’ll have to do the same thing when we go again.” 

Dream furrows his brows, intrigued, “more of us?” He echoes. 

“We’re a whole organisation. Not for like ― crimes in time, though in your case, very much. But more just ― keeping things on track,” Hob scrunches his nose, “I’m terrible at explaining this. But, you know, very much fate and balance of the time stream! That sort of thing you see in movies, you know? Or nothing like that.” 

“Of course,” he blinks, not mentioning that things like sci-fi or time travel aren’t on his radar. Doctor Who, maybe, but that’s a whole different style of time travel compared to the one Hob has. “And why me? I’m just some ― jumped up 20something!” He frowns, loathe to use one of Desire’s insults for him, but, well. Needs must. He kind of misses when his biggest concern was the presentation, and not this.

Hob laughs, “who knows?” Hob says with a grin, eyes sparkling, like he does know, which ― yeah, he probably does know. 

“Can’t you tell me anything?” He stresses, sighing. 

“Spoilers,” Hob says, grinning even wider. Dream just gives him a flat stare. “Now eat up. We should probably go to my HQ. Need to recharge my watch soon.” 

-

The HQ ― well, the room he ends up in, is ordinary. Aside from Hob muttering to himself as he stashes things under into a drawer under the desk. Dream gets the impression that this is Hob’s room, frosted windows and a frosted door as Hob sighs, resting against the desk. “What about charging your ― thing?” He frowns and Hob huffs, looking up at the ceiling. 

“This whole thing is charging it,” he gestures to the room, or wherever they’re at, “passive charging, built into the walls and floors. Pretty sure I can tell you that,” Hob finishes off to himself. 

Dream nods, looking around at the room, finding history books behind Hob’s desk as he sits down in the chair in front of the desk. “And what will we do about the people trying to… ?” 

Hob sighs and sits on top of the desk, feet occasionally brushing against his legs. “This is more for ― research, than Minority Report! I don’t know,” Hob groans, covering his face with his hands. “I’m not cutout for killing someone, which ― they’re after you,” Hob says, voice muffled and distressed. 

Dream blinks and considers the options, “well, how far in the past could you travel?” 

There’s another sigh, Hob pinching the bridge between his nose, “we’re still working on going into 1889, so there or―” Hob frowns, staring at him, “what? Leave them in the past? Making them age and die before you’re even born?” 

Dream shrugs, “it’s a possibility,” he replies quietly as Hob continues to stare at him, brows furrowed.  “And it’d require no murder. So to speak.” 

Hob nods, looking grim―then there’s a knock on the door and Hob scratches his head. “Stay here,” he says, pointing at him as he leaves the room, and Dream leans over, seeing what looks like the end of a black coat―and gibberish between two voices, one of them Hob’s. 

The gibberish continues, whatever privacy technology being used making him unable to parse what they’re speaking about, or who the other person even is as the gibberish rises in volume, unable to keep the exasperated tone of Hob’s voice hidden. 

After some more talking, there’s a sigh as Hob comes back in, rubbing his forehead. “What was that?” He asks, unable to help himself. 

“That was,” Hob huffs ― and smiles, fond and soft, “my husband being a menace,” Hob says, affection easy to see and Dream’s insides twist in jealousy, in envy at the way Hob still loves his husband, even with the arguing they were just doing. Groaning, Hob sits back on top of the desk, checking the device on his wrist, the edge closest to him steadily glowing more green. 

“You two work together?” He asks quietly, wanting to know more of this ― odd, wonderful man who’s trying his best to keep him from being murdered. 

“For a while,” Hob says, “even when he’s being a ―” Hob huffs and gets out a thing from his jeans pocket, putting it in his ear. Hob cringes as apparently someone talks to him as he nods. “Yes, L, I―what was I meant to do? I needed charge! And to keep my eye on him,” Hob gestures to him. “L! I haven’t told him anything!” He hisses, moving to grip the back of his chair behind the desk. “I―I know, I very much know, thank you for the reminder, I’m just trying my best to keep him safe and well, your boss says to just keep going. So we keep going.” 

Conversation apparently ended, Hob groans and pulls out the ear communications, putting it back into his pocket. “We keep going?” He echoes, glad that Hob’s still―going to help him, that he’s not going to carted off to someone else, or perhaps kept somewhere until the problem’s solved. 

“Yep,” Hob sighs and goes through the drawers of his desk, pulling out various amounts of ― money, different types in cash clips, putting them in the pocket of his blue hoodie. “It should be charged now,” Hob frowns and looks at the device, a glowing green around the edges, “so we should go.” 

-

Sydney, Australia, 2028.

“You’re not what I expect a hero saving me to look like,” he mentions, looking at the various shops lining where they appeared, people milling around them. 

“Sorry, I left my tight, impractical formal suit at home today,” Hob snipes back and Dream’s brows raise. “I’m a researcher, a ― I’m not some―” Hob scowls, then stops at the windows of a store, chuckling. “Nevermind, sure, let’s get some new clothes. May help, or something,” Hob huffs and drags him into the store he was looking at―a second-hand store. 

Hob seems to be on a mission, zeroing in some clothes as he pulls them out, staring in disbelief and muttering quietly to himself. “Put these on,” Hob shoves the pile of clothes ― dark, to his chest and presses past him, and Dream can only blink in bewilderment, before Hob shoos him into a small, rectangular dressing room. 

Dark grey jeans, a black shirt that has spidery, metal-band writing on it ― and a coat, long and black, as he puts his other clothes into his bag. Coming out of the dressing room, he watches as Hob laughs with the person at the till, gesturing to him as he comes up to Hob, who pays for their clothes as he smiles brightly. Hob has a backpack now, hoodie taken off to reveal hairy arms. 

He has a husband, Dream mentally berates himself, swallowing down the want to be held by those arms, to touch the soft looking hair of them, or the scruff on the other’s face. “Thank you very much!” Hob says to the person at the till as they say have a nice day! “You too,” Hob replies, putting an arm through his as they walk out of the store. “Should probably help, considering they’re expecting us to wear those other clothes anyway.” 

Hob frowns, fingers fiddling with the lapels of his new coat, smoothing it out and Dream’s heart rate triples at the touch, light and casual. 

“Do you know why they want to―” he frowns, swallowing as he pushes down his yearning, not mentioning the hands on his coat, lest they leave. 

“Going back to HQ did help with that. It’s mere speculation, but maybe they want to steal your ideas, and pass them off as their own.” 

“What? Why would they―” he stares, baffled as Hob only smiles at him, hands settling onto his shoulders. 

“Dream, I’m not going to tell you the future. But perhaps, hypothetically, you help invent something amazing ― and maybe, they want the glory of that. And money,” Hob scrunches his nose. “In fact. Most likely the money.” 

“Greed,” he responds dully, sighing as he considers the speech, the presentation in his bag as Hob pats his shoulder in commiseration, disgust at what might be planned for his scribbles and mad ideas. 

-

Nice, France, 1973.

“Maybe I just shouldn’t do the presentation,” he says once they’ve had a ― lunch, and Hob, in flawless French, books them a room. That Hob assures him will be fine, considering the high level of time traffic to various places throughout this time. And also that his husband has twigged a setting on his device, that’d make them even harder to pin out. “Just. It’d be easier to not―”

“Ah! Nope! Not doing that,” Hob interrupts him cheerfully, knocking against his shoulder as he sits down to him on the sofa. “You are going to do it,” Hob’s voice holds no argument. 

Dream groans, sinking down the sofa, “I don’t even know how to do a presentation. Or how to ― I get so anxious, thinking of doing it, of the questions, of the judging,” he sighs. “Why am I even telling you this.” 

“We are in a pretty crazy situation right now,” Hob reminds him, eyes soft as he smiles, bumping into his arm once again. “I have some pretty good advice for you, I think,” Hob grins and Dream straightens up. “For reasons that are becoming clearer,” Hob sighs, then laughs, “my husband swears by this.” 

“And what is it?” Dream frowns, leaning in as Hob’s smile widens, and his heart skips at the lightest brush of the Hob’s scruff against his cheek. 

“Work with it,” Hob says, voice quiet between them and Dream blinks. “Insane, I know! Counter-intuitive, you’d think, right?” Dream nods, “but, you work with it. Use that anxiety to fuel your presentation. Make an off-hand mention to it, or something. The more you try not to think of it, the more it burdens you. Like being asked to not think of a polka-dot elephant.” 

“Work with it,” he repeats and Hob hums, resting his head on a hand, “your husband is insane.” 

Hob laughs. “Well, you have time to mull that over while I work on dealing with your pursuers.” 

-

Dream, a voice says, lovely to listen to ― could listen to forever as he touches a soft face, scruff scratching pleasantly, fingers going into just as soft dark hair. Dream, the voice repeats― 

A flick against his forehead pulls him back to reality ― “Dream!” That voice whisper-shouts, a rough finger pressing against the spot it flicked as he groans and opens his eyes, Hob leaning over him. Frozen, he considers the dream, hazy and sensation and feels his face heat. 

“Yes?” He scratches out, feeling young and almost like a teenager as he tries to not think of the other man, eventually flicking away the other’s man’s finger on his face as he resists the urge to hide under the quilt cover in embarrassment. 

“Much as I’d also like a full night’s sleep, they’re close,” Hob says, tapping his watch, which is ― pulsing, droning, a warning apparently. Hob pulls back, gathering their bags as Dream yawns and forces himself awake, and out of the warm, comfy bed. “Dream! Up!” Hob ― commands, voice stern and Dream’s face heats even more as he gets up, feet going into shoes as he talks his still partly-asleep brain to not get hard as he picks up his coat from the end of his bed. 

Hob glances at him and mumbles to himself in an undertone, device’s blue screens glowing as he chooses a spot for them to go. “I’m ready,” he whines, pulling his coat around himself as he tries to remind himself that he’s 23 now, and that he’s definitely not a teenager who gets turned on in a second when a beautiful man gives him an order. 

He’s married, he has a husband, he’s at least a decade older than me maybe, or more, Dream reminds himself desperately, and he can feel his ears turn red as Hob holds onto his wrist, hand warm as they disappear.

-

Rotorua, Aotearoa, 2040

“I need a drink,” Hob declares once the device stops it’s droning, and Dream can only follow as Hob stalks off down the road, Dream unable to appreciate wherever they are as he catches up with Hob. Bar found, they walk inside, and Hob sighs, crossing his arms on top of the counter as he motions for two. “Vodka shots, please.” 

Dream blinks, nose scrunching up, “I hate vodka,” he scowls as it’s put in front of him― 

―Then Hob slides it over to him, downing it and the other shot in moments. “I know,” Hob scowls and orders another two, getting out a black credit card and tapping it to pay. 

“Can you even handle your device drunk?” He asks as Hob throws back his two new shots, glass clinking as he stacks the shot glasses. 

“Stop being logical and reasonable,” Hob mutters, crossing his arms and resting his head on them. “Fuck,” Dream hears, Hob groaning as he rubs his face. 

“Are you… okay?” Dream asks tentatively, which isn’t helped with the withering look Hob gives him, bottom half of his face hidden by his arms. “Is this about letting them get close?” 

“All of this,” Hob sighs and massages a temple, “just. Everything. It’s a lot.” Hob sighs, a foot knocking against his, trapping it under the other’s food and the spoke of the bar stool. “Dream,” Hob says, tone solemn and Dream’s pulse skips as hands frame his cheeks, “I’m a historian, not some sort of―and then with the―everything! I’m dying here,” Hob pouts, brown eyes wide and shiny. 

“You’re being very melodramatic, considering they’re after me and not you,” he mentions. Hob just laughs, and Dream tries not to react at thumbs massaging his jaw. 

“Got it from my husband,” Hob mutters into his bicep, hands leaving his face to go back to the counter. “That dramatic bastard,” Hob’s voice is affectionate, even with what he’s saying. “Smug asshole, all cat-got-the-canary throughout all this. I know he is,” Hob mumbles, then sighs wistfully, putting his head on a hand. 

“It must be nice,” Dream says, heart aching with envy and jealousy as Hob makes a questioning sound, “to be loved so much.” 

“I do love him, of course,” Hob bemoans and calls for two more shots, which he thankfully doesn’t down at lightning speed, grabbing one of the shots to slide around the counter. “Arrogant prick,” Hob swallows back the shot and adds it to the small tower of finished glasses, “he’s so mysterious and teasing, when he forgets that I know him too.” 

Dream nods and asks for water, pushing it in Hob’s direction gently. “He sounds interesting,” he says, throat burning with envy as he gets another water, drinking it to get rid of the feeling. 

“You sound jealous,” Hob points out with a smirk and Dream’s insides freeze. 

“Like I said,” he shrugs, looking away as Hob takes a drink of water, throat moving from the corner of his eye, “it’d be nice to have something like that, that’s, it’s all it is.” 

Looking back, he gets the feeling Hob isn’t convinced, an eyebrow raised. “You think that―” Hob scowls and taps the glass of water to his forehead, and all Dream gets from Hob’s quiet muttering is from the past before Hob sighs. “Nevermind. I’ve had my own little meltdown. We should get going.” 

-

Barcelona, Spain, 1993

Dream’s lucky to have a book in his bag before this whole thing happened, since it’s a better thing to try and read then thinking about Hob, in the bathroom next to the bedroom, naked― 

Definitely better to think about the words in front of his eyes, which he has yet to take in. Especially with the way Hob talked in casual Spanish with employees of the hotel, leaving as they got bathroom supplies at a store nearby ― Hob getting many tiny versions, a whole routine apparently. Hob gave him a disgusted look at the 5-in-1 bottle Dream found, but didn’t say anything, the stare speaking volumes. 

While he’s definitely been comprehending his book, Hob comes out of the bathroom with a sigh, flopping down onto the bed near the door. And dressed, which Dream’s not disappointed to see. But also, for the best. “How many languages do you speak?” He asks. 

“Enough,” Hob replies, voice muffled by his face on the quilt. “Go have a shower before you ask more questions.” 

Dream huffs and puts away his book, getting his own toiletries to have a quick shower, at least compared to Hob’s. Refreshed, he gets into the comfy clothes he wore at the start of this, then flops down onto his own bed. “How are you planning to stop them?” 

Hob, who’s been looking at the device with a frown, shrugs. “Deciding the place is easy, as long as it’s in the past. The thing that worries me is you,” Dream frowns, looking at the other man in confusion. “We, or I, would have to get close enough to take these off them,” Hob shakes his wrist, “which would make it easier for them to hurt you.” 

“Ah. What kind of weapons would they have?” He asks, not wanting to think about the pain of ― any of the things he’s thinking about. Knives, swords, guns. 

“Nothing good. Probably a gun, for ease. Carrying around a bazooka or a machine gun would make them too conspicuous,” Hob sighs. 

“None of these sound good,” he groans. Hob frowns at his device, “are we gonna have to charge that again?” 

“Yep,” Hob pinches the top of his nose. “Let’s at least get a few more hours before we go do all that madness,” Hob waves a hand in the air, then crawls over to turn off the light on his bedside table, Dream watching as he crawls under the sheets. “I miss my usual skincare routine,” Hob says, voice despairing and muffled and Dream bites back laughter, keeping the majority of his unnerving sounds inside so Hob doesn’t hear. “Shut up.”  

-

HQ, ?????, ?????

Dream stares around at Hob’s office ― at least, something familiar, where he’s been before, considering they’ve been to many different countries in an amount of time. “You said you were a researcher, then a historian, who’s also a polyglot?” He ponders and Hob looks away from his charging device to look at him. 

“I started as one first, which then informed the other, and then well, time travel. And in so many different places, so I just picked things up here and there,” Hob says, pointing a thumb at the bookcase behind him, “here and at home I have so many language books. My husband keeps asking when I’m going to get a PHD in one of the languages,” he smiles, the soft affectionate one when talking about his spouse. 

“Or more.” 

“Or more,” Hob echoes with a nod. 

“So this place is to… research the past in a more concrete way?” Dream asks. 

“Basically, yeah. Though―my husband also loves theatre and I keep telling him that we should go back and record some of the theatre we’ve never seen but had an interest in, or what have you, but he’s all the ethics, Hob,” Hob mimics, voice low. “He didn’t even have any ethics in mind when he started it! It’s very much a scientific approach of we can do it, so why don’t we do it anyway,” Hob stands and gestures and Dream opens his mouth. Hob points at him, “I know, nuance and all that! But you get what I mean.” 

“I for one support you going back to record past theatre,” Dream pipes up, and Hob has a moment of smug happiness before he suddenly scowls. 

“That motherfucker,” Hob mutters, poking at the charging device and Dream’s brows raise at the sudden change, “that cheeky chucklefuck, I’m going to wring that pretty neck,” Hob continues in a growl. Dream tries not to think of Hob’s hands anywhere near his neck, face heating slightly ― and there’s a ping, which pulls Hob out of whatever he’s thinking about as he gets out a phone to read whatever message he’s got. 

“What?” Dream blinks as Hob stares blankly at him before shaking his head and putting his phone away.

“Thank you, Dream, for your support,” Hob says with a grin. 

“It’s not like it means anything,” he points out and Hob huffs, sitting onto the chair as Hob looks at the ceiling. 

-

Cornwall, England, 1890

Dream can see the sea past the trees and rocks of the coast, the sun slowly coming up as Hob turns off the cloaking on his device. “We’re going to hide,” Hob states and Dream looks around, only seeing trees and rocks. “That way, at least the sun may knock them off a bit,” Hob mutters and Dream nods as they hide behind some of the trees, Dream watching as the sun shines onto the water. 

“And how do you plan to stop them?” He asks, a knot of anxiety inside as he considers that soon he’ll see the people who are willing to kill him, Hob’s device starting a slow drone of warning. 

“My usual plan is to not die. Worked so far,” Hob shrugs and Dream gives him a worried look as the drone seems to speed up, the sound of it pulling at his teeth before Hob taps the warning off, quickly pulling the screens up to put something in. There’s only the sound of waves, of birds as they wait, and soon enough two men appear on the dirt road, blue screens flashing off as they talk quietly. “I was always thinking there were three for some reason,” Hob says in an undertone. 

Hands on his throat, fingers going into his hair make his heart pulse race, face heating up under Hob’s hands as he’s stared at, dark lashes reflecting the gold of the sun. He has a husband, he brings up mentally to not do something stupid, like kiss him.

“Stay here, okay?” Hob whispers and he nods, biting his tongue to stop himself from keeping Hob’s hands on him as they leave. 

Heart racing in fear, he watches as Hob shows himself ― in fact, runs straight at them and Dream stops himself from lurching forward by grabbing onto a nearby tree as Hob punches one of them, knocking them to the floor. The other man stumbles back and gets something out. A gun, and Dream’s eyes widen as Hob talks to the man, voice indistinct. 

The man replies in a growl, gun waving around―then there’s a shout of pain as Hob stomps the man’s shin, the gun almost falling from his hand, with Hob grabbing then fun and whipping the butt of it across the man’s face, a cracking sound echoing throughout the area. 

Stunned, Dream slowly walks over to Hob, who’s kneeling on the ground and taking off the men’s devices, “I thought you weren’t the killing type,” he offers and Hob scoffs as he stands up and crushes the other devices under his shoes. 

“Of course they’re not dead. Unconscious and in pain, yes, but not dead,” Hob points out, flicking a switch on the gun before putting it in his jeans pocket. Dream just stares at him incredulously, “what?” Hob shrugs and switches on his device, ignoring his baffled looks, “I know how to look after myself,” Hob mutters in defence. 

“You are―” A sound. A shot. Gunshot. 

As Cornwall disappears around them, Hob’s arms tight around him, he only realises once they fall off him. The masses of people don’t see them, don’t see Hob gasping as he kneels on the ground and once the shock of it all abates a bit, he rushes forward, grabbing Hob’s shoulders in worry. 

“Hob? Hob?!” He asks, frantic as Hob takes in deep breaths. 

“My shoulder,” Hob says, smiling still and Dream’s anxiety lessens a tiny bit. “Hurts like a bitch, but it’ll be fine,” Hob soothes, a hand coming up to pat his cheek. “And look, it’s time for your big presentation,” Hob nods towards the building and Dream only takes a cursory glance, “well, least an hour off, but you know,” Dream lets out a wounded sound, not wanting to leave Hob at all, and definitely not like this. 

“But you’re, I can’t just,” he implores, grabbing onto the other’s wrist as fingers go through his hair. “Hob.” 

“Like I said, I’ll be fine,” Hob’s hand leaves him and Dream helps, Hob wincing as his now injured shoulder moves so Hob can press a button on his device. RECALL, an automated voice says. “Dream. Go,” Hob says and Dream lets out a cry as Hob disappears. 

-

London, England. June 7th, 2022

It takes ten minutes for Dream to enter the building. Then it’s his phone ringing wildly, his sister calling as he splashes water onto his face as he talks to her. As he tries to think about how to spin people were trying to kill me and a handsome time traveller saved me, into ― something, he thinks which ended more like I needed time by myself to go over my presentation. I didn’t mean to worry you, sister, I’ll make sure to tell you next time. 

Sitting in the reception area, there’s another ding on his phone, and he expects his sister again ― but this time a blue screen folds out of his phone, an image of Hob in a hospital bed, grinning with two fingers up in a V, and Dream covers his mouth in relief as the blue screen fades into nothing. Looking through his phone, he can’t find it anywhere and despairs that the photo was more like a phantom text, then something that could stay.

Swallowing, he gets out his presentation and speech, staring down at them ― and decisively, tears up his speech, stuffing the papers back into his bag as he goes over everything. 

-

One Year Later

Work has been going ― well. Increasing exponentially, enough that they’ve had to get new investors and a whole team of people. Lucienne and Matthew he’s particularly fond of. Not that he shows it. 

At least it’s better than his love life. Holding the torch for some married man from the future, and all his latest brief flings never have the right brown eyes of Hob’s, this one doesn’t have the right cadence of voice. That one doesn’t hold him right, fingers in the wrong places, calluses not what they should be. They’re never right, because he’s still pining over that time they were together, even with knowing how futile it is, considering Hob’s happily married. 

Sitting in his office, sketching some new mechanisms, he tells himself to stop it. It’s not like Hob’s going to come back from the future and― 

A laugh stops him, pencil scratching over his sketch as his head jerks up, eyes wide. Hob’s laugh is familiar, having heard a lot of it, and he almost can’t comprehend what he sees. Hob talking with Lucienne, talking and laughing and―

Younger, no greys in his hair, clean-shaven as he Hob gives Lucienne a nod, a hand pointing his way. A hand with no wedding ring on it. Standing up, he walks to the doorway as Hob comes up to meet with him a smile, less wrinkles on his face but still so beautiful. And he has glasses!

“Oh. Wasn’t expecting you to get up to meet me,” Hob smiles and puts out a hand, “Robert Gadling, but you can just call me Hob.”

Dream swallows, standing up straighter as his heart races, still unable to believe his eyes. Rubbing his hand on his black coat, he holds Hob’s hand quickly, and decides that maybe Lucienne deserves a raise for who she chose for this. “Dream. It is nice to meet you,” he states, aloof to hide the hurricane of emotions within him.

[Fin]

Hob: *ranting* Dream (the husband), smug, batting his lashes: Does this mean you're not going to wring my pretty neck?